The morning light seeped into the camp like an unwelcome guest, one that Lance was hoping would never show up.
He could take in the scene all around him in greater detail now, burnt-out tents and blood-soaked dirt all around. The goblins moved about with grim determination, patching up wounds, repairing defenses, and gathering their dead.
Inside the cage, Lance sat with his back pressed against the splintered wooden bars, his mind racing. The news of his execution at dawn echoed in his head, but the dawn had come, and he was still alive. That had to mean something, right? He clung into the slightest bit of hope.
Before he could dwell on it further, a sharp voice cut through the ambient murmurs of the camp.
"Bring him out!"
Lance looked up to see the tall goblin who had interrogated him the night before, flanked by two older goblins who looked to be her age with deep scars etched into their green skin. Lia's yellow eyes burned with authority, but there was something else there now, curiosity.
The cage door creaked open, and two goblins grabbed Lance by the arms, dragging him to his feet. His wrists were still bound, the rope biting into his skin.
"On your feet, human," one of them snarled, shoving him forward.
Lance stumbled but managed to stay upright as they marched him to the center of the camp. A crowd of goblins gathered, their eyes glinting with distrust and malice. Lance could feel their hostility like a physical weight pressing down on him.
The goblin from last night that interrogated him stood at the center of the gathering, her posture radiating authority, he could guess that she was the leader. Beside her stood the other two goblins her age, their wizened faces etched with skepticism.
"Human," the leader began, her voice sharp and deliberate. "You claim you're not our enemy, yet you appear in our camp during an attack. You speak our language, but not the tongue of the humans or any other race. Explain yourself… convince me why I shouldn't end your life right here."
'A CHANCE.' Lance thought to himself.
Lance swallowed hard. His throat felt dry, his mind scrambling for the right words.
"I don't know why I'm here," he said, his voice trembling but steady enough to be heard. "I woke up in the forest, saw the battle, and acted on instinct. I've got nothing to do with those guys who attacked you. I don't even know who they are!"
The crowd murmured, their whispers a mix of skepticism and intrigue.
"That's convenient," one of the elders sneered, stepping forward. "A human who just happens to show up during an attack? Do you take us for fools?"
"No!" Lance said quickly. "I'm not lying. I'm not even from this world. I don't belong here at all."
The leader's eyes narrowed. "Not from this world? Do you hear yourself? That's a child's excuse. You expect us to believe such nonsense?"
Just then, Lance realized his mistake, slapping himself mentally at the dumb mistake. Now, he had to leverage this or at least, come up with something to remove himself from this ditch.
"I don't expect you to believe anything," Lance shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "But it's the truth. You think I'm with those attackers? Then why would I attack one of them? If I'm a human spy, why can't I speak common?"
At that, the murmurs in the crowd grew louder. Lance didn't know what common was, he had only heard it being mentioned the previous night, but judging by their reactions, his ignorance was working in his favor.
The leader crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "It's true. When I questioned him last night, he didn't understand a word of common. Every human, elf, dwarf, orc, every race, they all know it. Even those bastards who attacked us speak it."
One of the elders spat on the ground. "That proves nothing. Perhaps he's some halfwit cast out by his own people."
"Then how does he speak goblin?" the leader countered. "If he's not one of us, and he's not one of them, where does that leave us?"
"You also mention attacking one of them?"
Before anyone could respond, another voice cut through the crowd.
"I saw him."
The goblins parted as a slimmer looking goblin stepped forward. She was shorter than Lia, with short, spiky black hair and a jagged scar running down her left arm. Her eyes burned with the same wild ferocity Lance had seen during the battle.
"He attacked one of the male goblins during the fight. He saved one of the children as a result, and was ready to face the goblin to death, luckily for him, I stepped in and killed the bastard," she said, her voice firm and unwavering.
The crowd fell silent, all eyes now on Lance.
The leader's gaze bore into him, sharp as a blade. "Is this true?"
"Yes," Lance said, his voice steady now. "I couldn't just stand there and watch. He was going to kill her. I didn't have a weapon, so I did what I could."
The younger goblin nodded. "It's true. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look like one of them."
The elder goblins exchanged glances, their skepticism softening slightly.
The leader stepped closer to Lance, her eyes searching his face for any trace of deceit. Finally, she spoke.
"Let's say I believe you," she said, her tone measured. "Let's say you're not with the bastards who attacked us. That still doesn't explain why you're here, or why we should let you live."
Lance's mind raced. He needed to think fast.
"You need me," he said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess himself or even think what he was saying through.
The crowd erupted into murmurs again, but Lance pressed on.
"You're vulnerable," he said, his voice growing stronger. "Last night's attack… it wasn't the last. They'll come back, and they'll bring more with them. You don't have the numbers, the weapons, or the defenses to hold them off."
"And you think you can help us?" one of the elders sneered.
"Yes," Lance said firmly. "I don't know how I got here, and believe it or not, I am from another world, and my knowledge can help you, this tribe, tremendously.. I know strategy. I've seen wars, studied them. If you give me a chance, I can help you prepare. I can help you survive... win." He said, pulling words from wherever to make sense of what he was saying and make himself look valuable.
The crowd grew quieter, their expressions shifting from hostility to cautious curiosity.
The leader studied him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. "You think you can save us? Why would you even care?"
"Because if I don't," Lance said, his voice steady, "I'll die with you."
The silence that followed was deafening. The leader's gaze remained locked on Lance, her expression unreadable. Finally, she turned to the elders.
"We're out of options," she said. "We can kill him now, or we can give him a chance. If he proves himself useful, we survive. If not, he dies with us."
One of the elders grunted. "Desperation doesn't suit you, Lia."
"No," the leader, whose name is revealed to be Lia, said coldly, "but survival does."
She turned back to Lance, her expression hard. "You'll get one chance, human. If you betray us or fail to deliver on your promise, I'll kill you myself. Do you understand?"
Lance nodded, his jaw tight. "I understand."
"Good." Lia gestured to the guards. "Cut him loose. Let's see if this human's words are worth any merit."
The guards hesitated but eventually sliced through the ropes binding Lance's wrists. He rubbed his sore arms, looking up at Lia with a mixture of relief and determination.
He had bought himself some time. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep his promise.