In just those first few moments when the goblins only knew that fire existed, three of them ended up falling as the web and wood floor they stood on just started smoking and falling away. None of the spiders seemed to be bothered, yet, but that was only because they lived higher up in the trees. Until the next volley of flaming arrows was launched into the outer edges of the settlement.
Burning from the center outward and from the outside in, there was no where left to go but down as the heat of the flames rose. The surrounding swamp was brilliantly illuminated with flickering orange and yellow firelight that darkened the still living trees around them. Bodies were falling more and more swiftly and many of them were landing on roots but a few were still somehow landing safe in the water.
The spiders, though, simply moved to the outer trees by leaping and gliding with webs from their superior heights. These were all 'small' giant spiders so they were not that strong but they were roughly two hundred pounds apiece and there was still a couple dozen of them. If two or three managed to jump onto someone like me or the tankers and hold on, we'd be screwed without help.
Our tankers were casually strolling forward with their shields and weapons at the ready, splashing hard into the water with every other step to draw attention to themselves. Even if goblins were actually smarter than people gave them credit for, like Poniard, the only enemies visible were the tankers so all the goblins still capable of moving were moving on their position.
Like moths drawn in to their deaths on a candle flame.
One of the first goblins to get out of the tree roots area was a little smaller and skinnier than the others, a usual sign of goblin youth. Even Poniard was just over four feet tall, now, so he was basically almost fully grown for a goblin. However, this goblin was leading the pack and if I jumped out now I would only mess up the plans. Instead, I could only look to the tankers and point at the goblin forcing its way through the water with a naked wooden spear in hand.
The middle tanker nodded and said something to the others, who all looked toward me and then nodded as well. They seemed to get the hint that I wanted that goblin alive. I could only hope they managed to keep it alive.
The next few goblins were all fighting against the water to get out of the root trap we were dropping them on but all the biggest goblins in sight would suddenly fall down among the roots. The tallest goblin in this second wave took an arrow straight to the face from sixty yards away. The only goblin in this wave to make it out was one about Poniard's size.
It was still young but it had already been impressed upon by goblin 'society' and would be harder to break than a fresh one like Poniard. So, I simply dismissed that goblin with a wave of my hand and a shimmering wave of air sliced across the distance to remove the goblin's head. That wind mage knew what they were doing, but an attack like that was surely costly.
The fighting was fairly slow until the spiders finally got to the water level, waiting on goblins to make it passed our ranged attacks while minimizing the numbers that actually reached the tankers. By the time the tankers actually killed something half of the goblins were already dead. The spiders held little value at these sizes and ranks and could barely float near the surface of the water as they awkwardly strode forward like striders.
In the water that was barely up to our waists, these enemies were little more than sitting ducks. It could be said that this was one of the easiest dungeons I had ever taken part in as I finally left my hiding spot with a revolver in either hand. Even as small as they were, the spiders were easy targets making linear dashes to surf just under the surface of the water.
My shooting attracted the enemies closest to my location, but one of them happened to be a goblin smaller than Poniard. They were the reason that I came out of hiding at all. When they and their closest fellows turned towards the sounds of my splashing and shooting, I had already halves the distance to them and killed all the spiders in our area.
The only enemies left were a couple of spiders and goblins surrounding the tankers and three wounded hob goblins who were carrying a wounded fourth fellow through the roots. Unlike goblins who sometimes had a waiting list before being housed by the Bureau, hobgoblins were more sought after for being bigger and stronger. These hobs would just about be worth their weight in contribution if they could be captured and they would be kenneled the same day they were caught.
Holstering my empty sidearms, I let the bigger goblins in the small group come up to me first before savagely punching down on the tops of their heads. Their skulls cracked and caved around my fists, sometimes gushing out bits of gore and fluids that floated on the surface of the dank water. Then it was just a matter of holding the smaller goblin's ear to keep it still and its head above the water while letting it tire itself out.
I did not even bother taking the goblin's stone knives away, I simply held it out at arm's length while it thrashed with its feet off the ground in the water. Some might consider this cruel, but considering the alternative was killing the little guy then I was happy with this method. Besides, if they were as smart as Poniard's group then they would all learn to calm down in a minute.
Once I had the little goblin tied up and under the watch of the young healer who seemed to actually be afraid of the small enemy, I calmly walked back out of our small root blind while reloading my revolvers. The tankers had finished the last of their enemies and were carrying two lightly wounded but unconscious young goblins between them. The enemy hobs still alive had come to a stop just inside the roots under the crackling glow of their old home.
The flames had died down to only a few burning piles above the water and large patches of smoldering fibrous bark, but it was still plenty of light to illuminate the area in a bright red glow.
Holstering my reloaded revolvers and taking off my coil of rope, I stand in place twenty yards away from the hobgoblins and start calmly cutting long lengths of rope free with a throwing knife. Letting lengths of multiple feet of rope simply float around me, I toss the rest of the rope toward the tanker not carrying a goblin before silently pointing at the hobs. Pointing was a challenge among these primitive species
The face of the first hob I pointed at hardened into a narrow glare and they stepped forward without hesitation. Regardless of the fact that my body size was now comparable to an ogre, hobgoblins usually had too much pride as a higher member of the social circles to back down. Some, though, had no problem traumatizing young human men.
This hob was, thankfully, a male so I had no reasons to feel bad about closing the distance and launching a gorilla like slap down at them from the side. They were armed with a pair of hatchets, as was common for hobs, but they never even had time to defend before my enlarged hand basically covered the side of their head and knocked them sideways off of their feet into the water.
Snatching up their ankle in one hand and I length of rope in the other, I turn my body to build momentum and swing that hobgoblin around in a circle to keep their body stretched out. Stepping once for every one hundred and eighty degrees of spin, I gradually slow down as I start tying the end of the rope around the hob's ankle. Once the ankle was secured, I let go of the hob while holding the rope so they flew a few feet out before the rope went taut and they splashed down into the water.
The ground in this area was relatively clear of debris so I was not worried about the goblin actually hitting anything in the water, but I still swiftly reeled him back up and in to catch his other ankle. With the other ankle in hand, I quickly tied his feet together while they were dizzily trying to tell up from down. With my insane new strength, all I had to do was toss the hob up with one hand and then wait to catch one of its arms while they fell.
Tying the rope around the top of their forearm behind the hob's large carpi muscles, I simply let the tired and daze hobgoblin hang half in and half out of the water while pitifully looking to its companions. The goblin had lost its hatchets as soon as I concussed them with a slap, so I took my time in wrangling its arms and then tying its ankles basically to its elbows.
With one successful hobgoblin capture complete, I pointed at the next hob in line who was wielding a large stone ax. Unlike the two remaining and like the first, this one was clearly a male from its physique and the way it wore its hides as a loin cloth instead of full coverage skirt. However, after looking at the currently captured goblins, the ropes still floating lazily around me, and the remaining pregnant female hobs, this hob seemed to realize the intent here was not to kill them.
Probably because it did not want to be slapped and thrashed like the first one, the second one merely tosses what could have been a nice trophy into the water off to the side before walking forward. Seeing that the others had all be tied with their arms behind their backs, this goblin held his arms behind his back while walking slowly forward. It was almost enough to make me drop my guard.
A weaker goblin would have actually given up and I had seen how a female hob would try to ensure its survival, but a healthy male hob who barely even had any blisters from its burning home? No sooner than when I let the goblin come within reach did it suddenly leap forward up out of the water and rush its clawed hands forward.
I simply struck forward with a stiff-armed punch that caught the hobgoblin in the middle of its chest and knocked it a few yards back into the water. This five-odd-foot tall hob goblin probably weight about two hundred pounds but was completely redirected backwards from the force of my punch.
I was actually afraid that I might have killed the hob, but after splashing into the water it quickly started slowly getting back up again. It was definitely hurting. However, it was not finished fighting.
Were this hob born a human instead, I would have probably liked them. As it was, I could not allow myself to grow attached to a monster already on its way to a kennel. Once it was standing back up again and moving forward, I ruthlessly kicked it back down into the water. Then I reached down to grab its ankle and started spinning.
Even though I was faster than goblins and hobs before my operation, this was insane. Even though they were being held back by the swampy terrain even the movements of their arms looked like they were moving in slowed frames. The extra strength that was STILL accumulating from the surgery and MP increase was nothing to laugh about, either.
Knowing better than to simply call over a female hob after the last time I was capturing them, I leaned to the side to pick up a nearby length of rope first. Instead of pointing to the ground in front of me, I pointed at one of the female hobs and then to the rope in the hopes there would be no confusion. The last thing I wanted was for complete strangers to start calling me the gob whisperer.
Looking between the other remaining hob and I with obvious uncertainty, the female hob I pointed at starts to walk forward when the others splashes passed it through the water. Both hobs were armed with stone-tipped spears by the faster hob took the other hob's spear and dropped both of them in the water. Then, without doing anything with its arms at all, the other hob just briskly walked forward to get things over with.
Being attacked was what I expected to happen when they walked up, but instead the mother-to-be simply stood in front of me and turned around before holding the arms out behind their back. For this one, I did not bother with the feet but simply tight the arms together an extra time and then pointed toward the others who had gathered together around the captured goblins.
All of the captured goblins were staring at Poniard in dumbfounded shock, probably from never having seen a goblin in proper armor with proper weapons before. Sometimes one of the goblins would growl and hiss and Poniard would just stare at them, but every now and then he would make a few short sounds in reply. This actually seemed to help keep the gobs and hobs calm, though.
The female hob that took a moment to realize I was telling them to walk started over in Poniard's direction, probably feeling more comfortable around the goblin more than the humans. Honestly, though, she could probably tell that Poniard was potentially the strongest non-human present. He was certainly the best armed and best looking, as far as I cared.
With the obvious difference in treatment between compliance and resistance, the final hob dejectedly walked forward with its head lowered and then turned around in front of me. They did not hold their arms out for me, but I did not care because one was lightly charred at the shoulder. Less than a minute later, she was standing on Poniard's opposite side from the other female hob.
Once that was over, everybody went around and looted whatever looked good to them and I let Poniard eat all of the goblin hearts that he could stomach. The captured goblins looked both envious and angry while licking their lips or baring their teeth in Poniard's direction. Poniard, though, disregarded them completely.
For loot there was not much of interest since the greater portion of hobs were still alive, but between eight people that was half a hob worth of contribution and two of them were pregnant. Bonus points. However, I still gathered up plenty of hide clothing to be recycled and printed and a dead hob's burnt body to recycle its bones into weapons.
Poniard not only carried the pelts and hides but he also fetched the large pinkish flint headed ax the second male hob had discarded to try and trick me. I was a little pleased by this, but once we got out of the portal with our cargo I was pleasantly surprised. The flint head of the large ax had accumulated over two hundred MP which, as an inorganic item, would not degrade.
The first time Poniard ever saw a vehicle it was the same as the large white Bureau van with one front seat and three back seats that my small group was now faced with. The sound of the engine had him trembling in the ropes I carried him by like the straps of a bag but now he knew better. After almost two months on Earth with constant internet access, I was pretty sure he knew the vehicle itself was not the problem.
On the other hand, the three goblins and two female hobs I decided to keep for their intelligence were scared of even approaching the large shiny metal monster. After Poniard calmly walked up and opened the passenger side door by stepping up onto the side of the van, he simply hissed and pointed inside at the hobs. While he put the two arm-bound hobs in the middle seat, I merely tossed the goblins in the back seat.
Both of us sat up front and the hobs began clicking their teeth and hissing to one another as soon as Poniard slammed the van door shut. Instead of going straight home, though, I had the van driver park beside a small super market and went in to buy some basic necessities like a couple of tents, bedding, and the like. THEN I had him drive to my new property.
Even though the inside was not yet fit to house 'numerous' goblins and such, the building itself was cleared to house at least six with only minimal necessities. For just these two hob goblins and for only a couple of days, I was not too worried. After teaching Poniard to set up one tent I had him help the hobs set up the other four-person sleeping space.
Next came what was potentially the most important factor in training primitive species. House breaking. Not only did I have Poniard show the hobs what litter and their litter boxes were, I even had him illustrate how to use and clean the boxes. It took Poniard forever to figure out how to clean up after himself, so I had little hopes for the hobs right now.
*