No Good Deed

"As I said," she whispered, "colorful phrases."

"That's what they call humans?" he hissed back, hand still on his weapon.

"Humans have been slaughtering goblins by the dozens at every opportunity for decades, Samuel. Think of it as a sign of respect."

"And you're convinced they won't immediately return the favor?"

"They are aware that this is a diplomatic mission. And you promised to keep an open mind. Have faith, Samuel; I expect to have more need for your silver tongue than your steel blade."

"I... very well," he said, returning his hands to his sides.

"[As I have demanded,]" Isobel said to the goblins.

"'Diplomatic,' you say."

"I told you the translation is imperfect. That's what passes for 'thank you'. Also, do not introduce yourself; hobgoblins consider it a sign of weakness. Now follow me."

The goblins backed slowly into the mouth of the cave, parting as Isobel and Samuel came forward. The light of the torch led them into the hillside, twisting back and forth as the passage continued at a slight downward angle. As they walked, Samuel cast a keen eye on the walls of the tunnel. It had been carved out to a comfortable height and width for him, which meant it was enormous by goblin standards. But if there were in fact a handful of hobgoblins who also used this passage, they would need the extra space.

Another set of guards made way for them as the passage opened out into a much larger cavern filled with dozens of goblins. The cacophony of voices set Samuel's senses on edge, and his hand twitched again. A table of goblins drinking and gaming were the first to notice them, and a wave of quiet immediately spread across the room.

"[Mind your business!]" shouted the goblin with the scepter. A low murmur began to rise, as the shock of seeing human visitors was replaced with hushed whispers and spreading rumors.

"Think of it like the common room at a tavern," said Isobel, "or last night's feast. That's all it is. Just people being people."

Samuel muttered under his breath. "Ugly, pointy-eared--"

"Save it for the negotiations," Isobel said with a smirk.

"[You will follow me to the clan-chief's palace room.]"

"[As we have demanded,]" said Samuel, eyes wide with mild shock at what he'd just said.

"See, you're getting used to the language already," said Isobel.

A short walk from the common room led them to an audience chamber. A throne that was carved from stone, decorated with bone fragments, and far too large for a goblin to sit on rested on a short dais on one side of the room, with a slightly smaller chair on one side of it and a much smaller chair on the other. The goblin crossed the room and pounded on a door with his scepter, then turned to sit in the smallest chair.

Two goblins pushed the heavy door open from the opposite side, making way for their hobgoblin chieftain. He was the size of at least three goblins put together, broad-shouldered and taller than Samuel, with dark brown skin and coarse fur that matched.

"[He is Trokdon the Fifth,]" said Isobel. "[Clan-chief and war-champion.]"

"[She is Isobel, of the blood-stealer's wizards,]" the chieftain said, stepping onto the dais.

Isobel's eyes widened slightly as a second hobgoblin stepped through the doorway, only slightly smaller than the chieftain. She climbed the dais as well, and sat in the other chair.

"[She is Kalath of Grendor, my life-mate and leader of the hunt.]"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Trokdon looked Samuel up and down, but Isobel was still staring at Kalath.

"[This one I do not know,]" said Trokdon.

Samuel turned to look at Isobel, removed his helmet, and subtly bumped her with it, drawing her attention away from the chieftain's mate.

"[Ah, yes. He is Samuel, of our clan-chief's warriors.]"

"[Tell me,]" Trokdon said, "[why has our clan-cave been gifted with the presence of two blood-stealers?]"

"[Your green-skins have been raiding our farms for prey-meat,]" Isobel said. "[This is against our peace-deal.]"

"[And your blood-stealers have stolen our trees, chased away our prey-meat, and claimed our lands for your own. All of this is also against our peace-deal.]

"[There are new elders of our clan, and they say--]"

"[Two hundred trees!]" he roared, slamming his fist on the arm of the throne. "[Ripped from the ground. Lands that the green-skin clan held and hunted in, gone. Stolen! For what?]"

"[A farm-wall can be built with rock,]" said Isobel calmly, "[and the prey-meat will stay where it is told to go. But the clan is afraid. And battle-walls require wood.]"

"[Battle-walls? The blood-stealers steal our trees to build battle-walls, and then say it is our fault!]"

"[The clan builds battle-walls to protect their prey-meat from your raids.]"

"[Troll crap!]" exclaimed Trokdon. Samuel's face twitched at the bizarre epithet, but he quickly regained his composure. "[Your battle-walls do not protect your prey-meat. You are building a fortress, and you will strip the entire forest to the naked ground to build it!]"

"[If it is strong,]" said Samuel, "[it is only to defend the clan-home.]"

"[Defend? How can you claim defense, while your starve us and steal our lands?]"

"[Starve you?]"

Kalath spoke from her seat. "[Your hunters,]" she said. "[They drive away our prey-meat.]"

"[I know nothing of hunters on your lands.]"

"[Your ignorance amuses me, warrior,]" she said with a deeply unsettling laugh, "[but I will play your game. We see the hunters sneaking through our forest with their bows and arrows. They do not hunt, not even for sport. But the prey-meat leaves and it does not return. And the clan starves.]"

Samuel's mind whirled. Human hunters in the forest, chasing away the goblins' prey with bows? It fit with Clarissa's story from the night before.

"[I will not allow this clan to starve,]" said Trokdon.

"[And I will not allow our clan to starve,]" Samuel replied. "[What do you demand from us?]"

Trokdon leaned forward, considering Samuel carefully. "[The forest belongs to the green-skin clan,]" he said. "[The blood-stealers must not steal our trees.]"

"[Then the green-skins must not raid our farms.]"

"[You will demand nothing!]" The chieftain began to roar again, but Kalath grabbed his arm.

"[The green-skin clan has no need for the blood-stealer's prey-meat,]" she said, "[if we have prey-meat of our own. We demand your hunters stop chasing it away.]"

"[Is this all? We will demand it of our elders.]"

"[But our prey-meat is already gone, and you must replace them.]"

Samuel paused, unsure of the translation. "[You demand prey-meat from the blood-stealers?]"

"[We demand prey-meat.]"

Samuel looked at Isobel, but the mage's face was as maddeningly blank as ever. It even seemed like the very edges of her mouth were starting to curl up, but that could mean anything. Samuel had backed himself into a corner, and it didn't seem like Isobel was inclined either to help or to stop him.

He looked back at the hobgoblins and drew himself up with a practiced stiffness, saying "[You will have prey-meat, as you have demanded.]"

Trokdon smiled and leaned back in his throne. Kalath's smile was softer, but somehow even more predatory, as she fixed her gaze on Samuel.

"[The blood-stealers are weak, my life-mate,]" she said. "[They know they can not beat us in war.]"

"[Not so,]" said Isobel. "[We have seen your clan. Your numbers are small, and if the blood-stealers come in war, you will not survive.]"

Suddenly, the smiles were gone, and both hobgoblins stared at Isobel, fuming. Samuel looked at her in horror, his mouth agape. They'd come to an agreement, however shaky it might be, and now she decides to point out their weaknesses?

"[Leave, Gorrin,]" said Trokdon suddenly.

The goblin sitting to his side looked up, startled to have heard his name. "[Clan-chief, I must be here--]"

"[Leave.]"

A pregnant pause hung in the air while Gorrin considered his options. Finally, he stood.

"[As you have demanded, war-champion.]" He exited through a side door, which closed with a thud.

"That," Trokdon said quietly, "was what I believe you call a 'low blow'." His face curled into a grin, and Kalath put her hand over her face to cover her laugh.

"I'm sorry," said Samuel, "he speaks Common?"

"Of course," said Isobel. "But making jokes is new. I'm impressed, [clan-chief]."

"That is because I make him practice," said Kalath.

Samuel's mouth hung open in shock, looking at the two hobgoblins. "They both--! Then why..."

"The goblin mayor," said Trokdon, "believes he needs to know all clan business, but he does not speak your language. I will pretend to translate the rest of our conversation for him later."

"You did an excellent job, Samuel, of helping us put on a show for him. As did you, Kalath."

"Thank you. But when you said you did not know about the hunters, I could not stop myself from laughing," Kalath said.

"Er, that part was true," Samuel said.

Trokdon and Kalath looked at each other with concern. "They do not come from your village?" said the chieftain. "Then who sent them?"

"I'm not sure. But I fear that someone is trying to anger your tribe in order to get them to attack the village. And I believe the new mayor is that someone."

"This explains much," said Trokdon. "But it also demands new questions."

"It does indeed," said Samuel. "But first, you must tell me: if these negotiations were only a show for the goblin mayor, then how much of it was false?"

"Very little," said Trokdon, rising from his throne. "Isobel is correct that our tribe is small. We will not starve this winter, but our hunt has not been good. And I can not stop them from stealing your [prey-meat] while we have none."

"We must convince the village to stop stealing the clan's lumber and leave their lands alone. I expect that is already part of your plan, Samuel. But I also expect that Trokdon did not chase the mayor out of the room because he wanted to continue to discuss business," Isobel said, smiling. "And in the meanwhile, you needn't worry about the cattle." Kalath snort-laughed, while Isobel approached Trokdon and boldly reached out a hand to stroke him through his loincloth.

"I can't help feeling like I'm missing something," said Samuel, watching with fascination as Isobel traced the outline of the chieftain's stiffening cock.

"I suppose I should have told you," said Isobel. "The Goblin word [prey-meat] translates a few different ways; it's a bit of a pun, I'm afraid."

"So it doesn't mean 'cattle'?"

"Oh, it does. But outside of diplomatic circles, it is also one of their more colorful expressions."

"It also means 'ass'," said Kalath. "As in, you are a fine piece of ass, [warrior.]"

"Ah. So I've just signed myself up to be--"

"[Prey-meat,]" said Kalath with a leer.

Trokdon reached over and grabbed Kalath's long braid, twisting her face towards his and kissing her forcefully. "[Go and prepare our chamber bed,]" he growled. Kalath grinned and headed off towards the door they'd entered from. Trokdon looked at Samuel for a moment, then turned to Isobel. "You will come, yes?"

"[As you have demanded,]" she replied.

Samuel had never seen a smug hobgoblin before, but he was pretty sure that was the expression on Trokdon's face as he followed his mate back to their chamber. Isobel went to follow them, but Samuel coughed, catching her attention instead. "Sister, do you think you could assist me with my armor for a moment?"

"Of course, Brother." They withdrew to the far side of the cave, Samuel removing his tunic as they did. "What is it?" she said quietly.

"You remember, back in my chamber, when I said we'd met before?"

"I do. But this is not the time for storytelling." Isobel held the weight of his breastplate while Samuel undid the straps, pulling it slightly away from his body.

"No, it isn't."

"You are not under a vow of chastity, are you? It would be most unlike the Queen to impose--"

"No, Sister, you misunderstand. I'm not at all averse to engaging in the sorts of diplomatic relations that you're steering us towards. But I do require your help."

Samuel reached for the sides of his undershirt and parted them to reveal his chest, which was wrapped with a horizontal bandage, binding his breasts against his body.

Isobel paused, searching her memory. "Of course," she said. "I didn't recognize you in your armor."

"I underwent an attunement test with the Order many years ago," he said. "You were my examiner, and you rejected me."

"It is an unfort--"

"I'm not interested in your pity, or your explanation," he said hurriedly. "It's what led me to become the man I am now, and I'm far happier in the Guard than I ever would have been in the Order. No offense."

"None taken; I'm happy to hear you've found your place. But surely you have already sought out some appropriate transformation magics?"

"I have, and if I'd known what this trip was going to entail, I'd have brought them with me and we wouldn't be having this little chat. And while I'm on the subject, if you'd informed me of your little ruse in advance, the negotiations might have gone somewhat more smoothly."

"They were more realistic this way. Consider it my way of paying you back for agreeing to take on Lord Erick without consulting me first."

"That hardly seems-- oh, fuck," he groaned.

With her back to the hobgoblins' chamber door, Isobel thrust her hand down Samuel's pants, quickly casting a familiar spell. Her palm pressed against his crotch, and as she dragged her hand upwards, a thick column of flesh grew in her wake. Samuel's eyes widened as his cock took shape, fully erect and extremely sensitive, not to mention nearly poking out of his underclothes.

His eyes darted down to Isobel's hand, still wrapped around his member. "That... that's enormous," he said. "I've seen some big energy dick before, but..."

"All the better to please the chieftain's mate with, wouldn't you agree?" she said, softly gripping him.

Samuel groaned as his eyes rolled back. "She's not the only one who's going to enjoy it. You're, uh, a very talented mage."

"Why thank you, Brother," she said sweetly, tucking him back into his pants.

Chapter 6

Trokdon and Kalath's chamber was, Samuel had to admit, luxuriously appointed. Soft, clean animal furs lined the floor; tapestries hung on the walls; there was even something that appeared to be a writing desk on one side of the room. But the bed was the centerpiece. It was easily the largest he'd ever seen, built to hold hobgoblins, and more than two by the look of it. Heavy rings were embedded in the wood all around it, and it was piled high with blankets and furs.

Both hobgoblins had shed their clothing and Kalath lay with her head in Trokdon's lap, sucking his cock while he reclined against the headboard. He waved the two humans over to the bed, letting a deep-throated moan echo across the room.

Samuel climbed onto the bed, still wearing his underclothes. Kalath released Trokdon's cock for a moment, looking over her shoulder at the paladin. "Good," she said. "Don't be shy."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he quipped. He let his hands fall onto her shoulders, kneading the muscles there and casting his eye over her prone form. Kalath's tawny brown skin rippled under his strong hands as he worked his way up to the back of her neck, making her purr.

"[I demand you learn to rub me like this, life-mate,]" said Kalath.

"[I will demand a lesson from the blood-stealer.]"

"Anything to improve the relations between our people," said Samuel, drawing a laugh from both of them.

Samuel turned his body around, leaning over Kalath to rub her lower back, working his way down past the slight flare of her waist and over her butt. He ran a strong hand down the back of one leg and she bent her knee, opening herself to him slightly. The powerful scent of her arousal filled his nose, making his dick twitch in his underclothes. He brought his hand between her legs, gathering some of her wetness and spreading it around, hearing her whine and feeling her press her hips back against him as he did it.

"Don't be gentle, [warrior]," Trokdon grunted. "She's used to fucking me."

"If you insist," Samuel said. He ground his palm against Kalath's cunt, probing through her folds when she lifted her hips, then finding her clit and stroking it roughly. Trokdon snickered as she moaned around his cock, but then she took him deep into her throat and he let out a guttural stream of half-words that Samuel didn't understand.

Kalath popped up off Trokdon's cock. "Put your hand in me, you dirty--"

"Language," Trokdon said, palming the back of her head and forcing her back down onto him. "Do whatever you like. She wants to be filled, but she sucks my cock better when she doesn't get it."

"Well that's quite the dilemma," Samuel said, smirking. He reached for Kalath's clit again, pinching it between his thumb and finger. She shrieked and tried to lift her head, but Trokdon held her in place, groaning his approval.

The bed moved, and Samuel looked over to see Isobel climbing onto it. He was briefly awestruck at her nudity, having shed her clothes in a perfect pile. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with Trokdon's darker brown as she snuggled up to his side, running a hand over his incredibly broad chest, flicking his nipples and causing him to shudder. His hand nearly encircled her entire thigh as he wrapped his arm around her narrow frame. Samuel found the two of them quite distractingly pretty, albeit in diametrically opposite ways.

"You should definitely put your hand in her, Samuel," Isobel said. "If only so that I may have a turn with Trokdon, here."

Kalath gushed over Samuel's hand, soaking his palm and fingers. He swiped them over her clit again, drew his hand up until he found her opening, and then plunged his entire hand into her all at once. This time, Trokdon let her up when she lifted her head to moan, and Isobel immediately took her place, wrapping her hand around his cock.

Kalath got her hands underneath her and began to buck backwards as Samuel fucked her with his hand. He draped himself sideways over her hips, finding both a comfortable angle and enough room to curl his fingers around and make a fist inside her cunt. Kalath howled out her pleasure, riding his fist and clenching down around him.

"She's so beautiful," Isobel whispered in Trokdon's ear.

"Especially when she comes," he replied, eyes fixed on his mate, cock twitching in Isobel's hand.

Isobel slowly ran her fist over his cock with long, smooth strokes, taking advantage of Kalath's saliva, her fingers grazing each of the firm ridges ringing his shaft as she went. "Not so fast, big boy," she said, nibbling on his pointed ear and squeezing his balls. Trokdon groaned, but it turned to a growl as he gripped her leg more tightly.

Kalath lifted her head again, locking eyes with Trokdon, her mouth hanging open. "He's told me all the stories from your visits," she said to Isobel between moans. "How you treat him like a [farm-serf]." Samuel listened intently while trying to keep pace and match Kalath's rhythm. "How you never let him fuck you."

"Fuck me? He's lucky if I let him come," Isobel said, firmly drawing her hand up his cock from base to tip.

Trokdon growled again. "Someone's about to get lucky whether you want him to or not," he said. Kalath laughed, and Samuel took the opportunity to pick up the pace, slamming his hand into her with as much strength as he could muster. Isobel smiled, relaxing her grip and speeding up her hand job along with Samuel.

The two humans drove the hobgoblins towards their orgasms. Kalath fell against the bed as Samuel fisted her. Isobel squirmed out of Trokdon's grip and lowered herself to his lap, opening impossibly wide and sucking the head of his cock into her mouth while continuing to jerk him off with her hand. Kalath's moans turned deep and guttural while Trokdon's became higher and more shrill, both of their bodies tensing up as they raced towards their peak.