"Look if you can't use tools it's fine. I'm more than eager to use them and there's plenty of other things for you to do. So the least you could do is decide what's being done by who, you know, boss things." Herman said.
"Right, yeah. I guess that works. Give me a minute while I write down some stuff."
Lex dug through the boxes picking up a notepad and a pack of ten ballpoint pens.
He tore open the packet, always more of a pain than it should be.
"Never easy to open these things." Mumbled Lex, not missing the judging snort from Herman on the side.
Grabbing one out of the packet he clicked the pen and got to writing on the first page of the notebook.
'So tasks... Herman on the tools... which would be fixing shelving, and unstable structures which would be half the bloody store...
Then there's that tree in the corner,' He thought, looking over at the sprouting tree with a helpless expression.
He sighed, 'don't really have the means to get rid of it so I'll ask him to clean it up as much as possible... maybe just make it less in the way.'
He tapped the pen on his chin as he continued to write, looking at the debris around the warehouse and front of store.
'There's no replacement for the glass at the moment which means we will have to make do with what we have... either keep it open or board them up.'
He ended up writing a list from top to bottom of the page, a reminder of the long day they each had ahead of them.
"Man. I've got to remember what I'm doing here, luckily trade skills don't really go away, kind of like riding a bike." Sighed Herman, who was inspecting the building while Lex wrote.
That said, Lex couldn't help but notice a slight smile on the man's face, as maybe this is the first time in a decade he'd finally be working honestly.
Herman was tough to read for Lex, as he led a very different but eerily similar life. One moment he'd be insulting, next minute he'd be flipping out, accusing him, and the next he'd be the most helpful person he could have asked for.
Lex clenched his jaw, 'I hate to admit it but this squatter is more useful than me at the moment... I'm actually quite embarrassed.'
He then frowned.
Lex near hated how easily Herman found his footing.
The man had been sleeping in the warehouse like a raccoon with drinking habits, and yet the moment tools were involved, he looked almost respectable.
Almost.
Still, Lex had given him the job. Lex had opened the door for him. Lex was the one who started this.
That had to count for something.
He wasn't a tradesman. He knew that much.
But he'd chosen business for a reason. Maybe the course was mostly useless theory from a university nobody cared about, the idea behind it is still there.
If he wanted out of squalor, he needed to learn how to operate.
And right now, this broken shop was the first real thing he'd ever had to manage.
Lex smirked.
'Well, shop is a bit of a stretch at the moment...'
He looked back down at the pen and paper in his hands.
Now it was time to write his own tasks, consisting of clearing rubble, designating areas, clearing the checkout once done he'd try help out Herman with his tasks.
After he was done it was time to check in with Herman, who was outside looking at the sign.
Walking out the front door, he hailed Herman.
"Alright, I've made the list." He offered the task list to Herman. "Have a look over it."
Herman kept looking at the sign mumbling, "This thing's held up by hope and two nails..."
Only after he grabbed the paper did he look down.
Herman laughed as he read the list.
Lex felt his face flatten, and sighed, "What's up?"
"Nothing, nothing..." Herman smirked at him, "But I can tell you aren't the greatest at giving clear instructions."
Lex shifted awkwardly, "How so?"
Herman shook his head and held the list facing Lex, pointing at a line. "Make the tree less in the way."
Lex stared blankly.
Herman face-palmed.
"Dude. Listen. When you give people a task, you've got to give it some thought. More specification. How are they doing it, what they should focus on, the details man."
"Imagine I worked construction and the foreman walked over and said, 'build a house.' That's it. No drawings, no measurements, no materials list, no nothing. What do you think happens?"
Lex shrugged.
"Nothing. Or worse, something fucking stupid."
Lex nodded, then said, "But I'm not asking you to build a house, nor am I an architect."
Herman pointed, "True, which is why it's fine since I know what to do. It was merely a metaphor, but what I'm really trying to say is be specific and descriptive. The terminal already told us what needs done. Your job is making it clear enough that people know where to start."
"I'm just letting you know for the future." He finished.
Lex crossed his arms, "I see... But is it clear enough to know what needs to be done for both of us?"
He nodded his head somewhat. "I suppose it's fine for now. It's not like we're doing major renovations or a refit of the store."
"Then we're all good?" Asked Lex
"Aye, it'll do."
And so they started.
They slipped into their gear - safety gloves, steel toed boots, couple of hard hats.
Herman sorted the tools making sure it was all laid out correctly, he had his hammer, nails, saw, ladder, sandpaper, he found whatever he needed in the supplies given to them by the store.
Lex got all the cleaning equipment out, heavy duty bags, brooms, dustpans, cleaning materials, etc.
And they silently got on their way, subconsciously distancing themselves, Lex going to the warehouse to clean all the crap Herman left during his squatting and to designate an area for debris and rubbish out the back.
While Herman took the front of the store, setting up the ladder to start fixing the store sign, which was left hanging by a couple nails and rope.
***
( Meanwhile Vargis' POV )
( Tribe Guram )
Vargis and his group of scouts broke through the perimeter glades surrounding the encampment of Tribe Guram just as the sun started to set on Durim Forest. The golden evening sky flittered through the leaves and branches as he and his party were eager to arrive home.
It was a fortified keep, with large wooden rustic palisades surrounding the edge complete with archer towers and a large gate with guard posts at the top and bottom.
Danger in the Durim Forest was commonplace, if it wasn't magical beasts, it would be the other goblin tribes or the varying races dotted around the forest, they were always on guard toward anything that approached the village.
"Oi!" A gruff, worn voice hailed Vargis and his group from atop the gate. "Who are you and state your business here."
Vargis kept walking forward, his steps filled with confidence. Although the same couldn't be said with the party in tow, who were all shaking in their boots more and more the closer they got to the gate.
Vargis scoffed, "Shut it Bitek. Have you gotten so blind you can't recognise your own people?"
They stopped their steps a few metres away from the gate, Vargis' firm gaze staring up at Bitek, the gate captain.
Bitek looked old, with long grey hair, a blinded eye, and scars visible on any exposed skin. It was clear this man was no stranger to violence, not to mention the muscles still firm and vivid all over his body, showing he still takes care of himself and trains regularly.
Bitek snorted. "Hmph. Header Vargis, I'd recognise that prideful tone from a mile away, what news of the trembling centre of the forest?"
Vargis smirked, "Interesting to say the least. I've never seen such a thing in all my years of leading the scouts."
"Hoh. Something even you didn't expect Vargis?" He gave some approving head nods.
"Mmm, now you've got my interest piqued."
"Hah. Well you'll have to wait. Need to report to Chieftain Guram and my father immediately.
This could be a great opportunity for us." Vargis shrugged.
"Come on, Vargis, is that what I trained you for? To withhold confidential information for the Chieftain first?" Bitek groaned.
Vargis raised his eyebrow, "Yes?"
"Maybe aye... but gimme something damn it. I'm old and it's boring out on guard duty."
Vargis smirked, "You know I'm supposed to go to Chief Guram with information first... But what would you think about a merchant group that doesn't mind selling to monsters."
Bitek narrowed his eyes, "That it's a ridiculous suggestion, and not a funny one."
Vargis shrugged. "I said what I said. Now let me through."
Bitek scrutinized him for a moment before waving him off, "Bah. Alright you stingy git."
"Pollok, open the damn gates already, poor Vargis out here is going to get a cold!" Bitek yelled the other guards.
In contrast to Bitek, Pollok was a skinny goblin. His body was thin, and he was untested in real combat - hence the gate duty.
"B-but you said to not let them in unless they give you ans- *Gulp*"
Pollok stopped talking, as right now Bitek was giving him the deadliest glare, sending shivers down his spine.
"Did you not hear me, welp? We've got all the answers we're going to get. Open. The damn. Gate. Already. Unless you want extra drills?" Threatened Bitek.
"R-right boss..." Pollok said, scurrying off to pulley the gate up.
Bitek held his hand up to hold the group off from going in before it was fully up.
The gate slowly pulled up dragging along the wooden supports. Bitek then effortlessly jumped down from the tall palisades landing in front of Vargis with a thud, leaving an imprint where he landed.
"Welcome back Vargis." He grinned and then looked over at the runts of the group.
His gaze was fierce, and his tone was absolute.
"You lot meet me in the training grounds. If you cower and shake every time you reach the gate you are clearly not the scouts I want to be out with Vargis."
The scouts grimaced, dreading what was in store for them
Bitek was not only the guard captain but the best instructor the tribe had for combat training.
His methods were notoriously brutal, having accidentally killed a couple trainee goblins before.
"Oh great lords... not again." One said, literally shivering.
"You're scared? I'm actually pretty excited to train under Bitek." Said another.
The group unanimously looked at him with pity, one of the more seasoned scouts patting him on the shoulder.
"I remember my first time training with Bitek... I almost lost my arm... not to mention the lashings... Thankfully I only lost a couple fingers" He said as his voice shuddered, holding up his hand that missed his pinky and ring finger.
Bitek yelled at them. "Did you not hear me? Report to the training grounds immediately. If you're not there in 5 minutes I'll start handing out punishments."
Bitek had that glint in his eye that made the scouts immediately start sprinting through the gates.
Vargis laughed. "If you weren't such an old fool you'd be still feared among the main force."
The head scout was correct. Bitek used to be known throughout the races in Durim Forest for being a warrior to be reckoned with.
"Watch your tongue, you're still just a boy, only more talented than the rest. Remember who trained you." He smirked. "Go, the Chieftain will undoubtedly want to hear about your findings."
Vargis nodded, and made his way in through the gate.
***
Although not lavish, the Great Guram Keep had a presence of its own. As the tallest and grandest building in the tribe, it imposed an air of authority and intimidation to not only external forces, but it's own people.
The goblin's worshipped their leader, as the Guram Keep had held strong generations upon generations. It was a testament to their resilience within the Durim Forest, where others fell, the Guram Tribe survived through the ages.
Vargis pushed open the grand heavy door, entering the Chieftain's throne room, the walls were lined with sconces made from the horns of formidable beasts and monsters defeated by their tribe, and between two long tables that reached both ends of the hall was a fire pit with a Great Hog being spit roasted in preparation for the feast, filling the air with a delicious aroma that made Vargis' mouth water.
'It's been one hell of a day. Could do with a whole leg off that hog.' He thought as his stomach grumbled.
At the end of the hall stood a throne made entirely of bones, with the skull of a Lord Ogre cresting on the top. It was so large that any normal goblin sitting upon the throne would look like a mere child, but for the man currently sat on it? Not at all.
He was big. The biggest goblin Vargis had seen since birth. A true goblin Chieftain, an entity that kept any intruders at bay due to the mere thought of his power.
On his left side was the tribe's top shaman, or magic caster, Wraith. His specialty was necromancy, making him truly feared on the battle ground and a pillar of the Guram Tribe's force.
You couldn't see his face due to the long draping hood that seemed to hide it beneath a veil of darkness, he was dressed head to toe in black robes, donning a collar of bones and a long staff headed with a goats skull and horns
And on the right was Farkas, Vargis' father and the Chief Advisor to the Guram Tribe.
He was a little more refined than the others, the red and silver robes he donned weren't that of a warrior or a mage, but rather a scholar. He was clean and tidy with his hair tied back.
However, despite the murmurings he'd heard around the tribe, Vargis knew that there was more to his father than meets the eye, far more than a mere scholar. Farkas was not to be meddled with in his own right as the previous head scout who provided quality information on the happenings in Durim Forest for over two decades.
Most goblins thought the scouting party had it easy. That the risk was low, and mortality rate lower. But this was not the case.
Being the head scout meant more than just surveying the surrounding areas. They were sent out to any incident that they lacked information on related to Durim Forest, meaning they lacked any advantage and had to encounter the danger before anyone else, alone.
This meant that if anything, it was one of the most dangerous positions in the whole tribe, requiring a skilled veteran to guide the others, even then, sometimes he's the only one who makes it back.
Vargis sighed internally, 'But unfortunately... that's all the tribe needs. One person. One goblin who has the information they require. The others are disposable, their positions only to be filled with new goblins.'
Vargis walked toward the throne, along the hides of beasts slain laid like a red carpet, under the eyes of experienced warriors and his seniors, his steps were controlled and measured, as if he were meant to be here.
"Vargis." Chief Guram addressed, his deep booming voice silencing the great hall.
Vargis got down onto knee and bowed to the goblin chief, just a couple meters from the throne. He felt the heavy gaze of not just the chieftain, but Wraith and his Father - three of the four pillars of this tribe, the fourth being Bitek.
"Chief Guram," Vargis spoke carefully, "I am here to report about the trembling within the centre of Durim Forest, I have news that is of utmost interest to this tribe."