Snow pellets tapped against the wooden window, making faint, crackling sounds.
Kurzadh sat beside the stone slab in the boss's hut, a rough map drawn with charcoal spread out before him. The cave circled near the quarry stared back at him like a dark, hollow eye.
He had been pondering all night. greenskin minds weren't naturally suited for complex planning, but since this matter concerned the survival of the tribe, he stayed up until his eyes were bloodshot, finally coming up with a reasonably reliable plan.
"Damn it, those sons of bitches in that cave haven't dared to show their faces for so long; they must be scared of the dwarves."
Kurzadh jabbed his finger at the cave on the map, spit splattering onto the mark for "Gezhik." "Last time, the dwarves and the beastmen fought in the canyon; the commotion was so huge they couldn't possibly have missed it, plus the dwarves cleansed the Forest of Gloom this year.
They're probably scared of getting shot by a dwarf's firelock if they wander out, which is why they're holed up and not moving."
He rubbed the stubble sprouting on his chin, a sneer twisting his lips: "Since they're scared of the dwarves, we'll give them something extra to worry about.
If they dare send their Boyz out to scout, whether they are hobgoblins or goblin, we'll take care of them all and toss their chewed-up bones at the cave entrance.
When they look out and see, 'Hey, there are still dwarves milling around outside,' they definitely won't dare to come out.
This way, we can focus on construction in peace until our Boyz are strong enough to beat beastmen, and then we'll circle back and deal with them!"
The plan was crude, but it fit the greenskin logic—if a problem can be solved with a fist, don't overthink it.
Kurzadh stood up, stretched his stiff neck, and decided to lead the team himself.
The situation near the cave was unclear, and he didn't trust anyone else to go.
"Wreelx! Dragu!" he roared.
Before long, Wreelx ran in, carrying an iron spear, his greenskin still dusted with bits of straw from sleeping; Dragu followed close behind, his sheepskin hat askew on his head, clearly having just been woken up.
"Boss, what's up?" Wreelx asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Bring your archers, pick ten with good aim."
Kurzadh pointed at Wreelx, then looked at Dragu. "You go too, Dragu, and lead ten spearmen. Bring all your weapons.
We're going to stake out the cave and take care of every greenskin that comes out!"
"Got it!" The two hobgoblins immediately perked up, turning and running out, shouting as they gathered their forces.
The tribe quickly became lively.
hobgoblin archers shouldered their wooden bows, their quivers filled with iron arrows, each one jostling to get into the line; the spearmen carried iron-tipped spears, their beast-hide armor gleaming slickly in the snow, pushing each other and shouting "Waaagh!"
The goblins also gathered to watch the excitement, only dispersing grudgingly after Scarface kicked them a few times.
"Listen up, all of you!" Kurzadh stood at the front of the line, gripping his iron axe. "When we get there, be quiet and don't make any noise!
archers hide behind the trees first, spearmen squat in the bushes, and wait for my signal before acting! Whoever messes this up won't get any meat when we return!"
"We know!" the greenskins answered in unison, their eyes flashing with excitement—being able to fight and steal things (even if they were stealing from their own kind this time) was exactly what greenskins were meant to do!
Kurzadh nodded with satisfaction and waved his hand: "Move out!"
Twenty hobgoblins followed behind him, treading through the deep snow toward the quarry.
The footprints in the snow were quickly covered by fresh powder, leaving only a faint trail.
No one spoke in the line, only the rustling sound of spear tips scraping against branches and the heavy breathing of the greenskins .
After walking for about half an hour, when they were still half a *li* from the quarry, a sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from ahead.
Kurzadh signaled the team to stop. The archers immediately hid behind trees, nocking arrows and drawing bows, while the spearmen raised their long spears, watching the front warily.
They saw Dragu leading three goblin scrambling and stumbling through the snow. His greenskin was smeared with mud and blood, his sheepskin hat was gone, and he was panting heavily, clearly terrified out of his wits.
"Boss! B-boss!" Dragu rushed up to Kurzadh, coughing as he leaned on his knees, unable to speak coherently.
"What are you panicking about?" Kurzadh frowned, thinking the greenskins from the cave had emerged. "Did some Boyz show their faces? Good, let the archers practice their aim!"
"N-No!" Dragu suddenly raised his head, his eyes wide, his greenskin pale with fear. "That... that tribe... it's been wiped out!"
"What?" Kurzadh was stunned; the axe in his hand nearly dropped to the ground. "Say that again? What do you mean wiped out? We haven't even made a move yet!"
Not only was Kurzadh stunned, but the hobgoblins behind him erupted in noise. "How could it be wiped out? Did you see wrong, boy?" Wreelx walked over, carrying his bow, looking completely unconvinced.
"It's... it's really wiped out!" Dragu swallowed hard and pointed toward the quarry. "Didn't I send three hobgoblin Boys inside the cave to keep watch before?
Last night... last night a horde of monsters rushed out from the depths of the cave. They looked like giant rats, furry, with red eyes and sharp teeth showing. There were tons of them, a black, surging mass!
If we hadn't sensed something was wrong in time, we would have been stuck there too."
He took a breath and continued: "That greenskin tribe was completely unprepared. The Boyz inside the cave said they first heard 'squeaking' sounds, and then the screams of the greenskins . It didn't take long before everything went silent.
This morning, I had the hobgoblin Boys sneak in and take a look. The cave was full of greenskin corpses; some were gnawed down to the bone. That tribe... truly, not a single one survived!"
Kurzadh's face instantly darkened, his brow furrowed so deeply it could squash a mosquito.
Monsters that look like rats? And a lot of them? He suddenly remembered the information he had seen in the system before—Skaven! Those scumbags hiding underground loved to launch sneak attacks in the dark. They were as numerous as cattle hair, and every one of them was vicious.
"Damn it, it's the skaven," Kurzadh cursed under his breath, a chill running through him.
He had originally thought the greenskins in the cave were the biggest threat, but he hadn't expected a skaven tribe to appear out of nowhere.
These things were harder to deal with than greenskins . greenskins fought with brute force, but skaven played dirty: poisoning, ambushes, tunneling—they used every dirty trick imaginable.
"Boss, then... are we still going to the cave?" Wreelx asked cautiously, clearly frightened by the word "Skaven."
Greenskins weren't afraid of a straight fight, but they were terrified of things that lurked in the dark.
Kurzadh was silent for a moment, then looked up toward the quarry.
The cave entrance in the snow was covered by thick snow, looking unremarkable, but who could have imagined that a massacre had just taken place inside?
"Go! Why wouldn't we go?" Kurzadh tightened his grip on the axe, a fierce glint in his green eyes. "We'll go take a look and see if those skaven are still there.
If they're gone, it's the perfect chance to pick up some things—since that greenskin tribe had beastmen, they definitely had iron gear!
If they are still there... we retreat immediately. Don't engage them head-on!"
The greenskins exchanged glances and nodded. The temptation of stealing loot ultimately outweighed their fear of the skaven.
"Stay sharp, everyone!" Kurzadh instructed. "archers scout ahead, spearmen follow behind. If anyone sees those rat-like monsters, shout immediately!"
"Got it!"
The team set off again, but this time no one shouted. Everyone crouched low, their eyes warily scanning the surroundings.
The silence of the snow was broken by footsteps, but quickly swallowed by the cold wind, leaving only the greenskins' heavy breathing and a faint "squeaking" sound coming from the distance, whether it was the wind or something else, they couldn't tell.
Kurzadh walked in the middle of the line, his mind racing.
Since the Skaven could wipe out a greenskin tribe that included beastmen, their strength must not be weak.
Would they come out of the cave and run rampant on the Blackrock Clan's territory? If that happened, could the tribe's palisade hold them back?
He touched the iron axe on his back and looked at the hobgoblin archers beside him—their quivers were full, the iron arrows gleaming coldly in the snowlight.
No matter what, they had to figure out the situation inside the cave first.