The goblin head chef was nestled among the stores of water and dried herbs, hiding from both the sun, the orcs, and the supervisory goblins. The sun was reason enough to look for shade and water. As a creature of the wastes, the chef instinctively knew of the importance of a good shady spot and a store of water. These kobolds had it good. He lifted a large water skin to his mouth and drank more deeply than he could ever remember drinking.

　　The orcs were also a good reason to hide. At first it had been the hunting party that captured his troupe. Too many orcs to fight and not enough will among the other goblins to flee. A lone goblin in the wilderness was only a bit more dangerous than any other wild animal. All goblins knew the strength of numbers, despite not knowing how to count. Now, there were many more orcs in the camp. Not more than his fingers and toes, but way more than when those others left. It was sensible to hide from them.

　　Experimentally, he pulled down a bundle of dry, fragrant leaves. The thin rope by which they hung snapped at a tug, leaving him holding a brown, crunchy bouquet. He took a bite. No delicate nibble, but a mouth filling chomp. Spices filled his sinuses and overwhelmed his tongue. His throat dried up as the potent shards of leaves clung to every damp surface. He spat out as much as he could, tears welling in his eyes. He took another draught of water in desperation, and when the sensation had passed, he noted these leaves were good stuff.

　　Finally, there were the supervisory goblins, the suck-ups. He was leader with as much right as any goblin in the troupe. Now that they had been captured and imprisoned, the order was upended. He was more rebellious and unruly, having grown accustomed to power. The others were more accustomed to complying to power, so they sucked up to the orcs. Some of them were rewarded with a little power of their own. The chef felt nauseous, and it wasn`t just from the leaves.

　　At any rate, his distraction had been good enough for him to slip away unaccounted for. The others would do the hard work and he`d reap the spoils, as it should be. He felt for the comfort of his chef`s hat, which was hiding the goblin secret, the brown mushroom to which he had been entrusted as head chef. It wasn`t there. It had toppled from his head when he had been flavor-blasted. What`s more, he heard the presence of someone at the door flap to the food stores.

　　He ducked behind some earthenware jars, covering himself in darkness. The intruders, as he thought of them, were regular size, which is to say they were not orcs. He could smell the fatigue of day labor on them in the confined space. They were unmistakably goblin. He didn`t dare to peek past the jars. Only the suck ups would be entrusted with pulling stock.

　　The goblin chef remembered his hat. It wasn`t back here in his hiding spot. He wailed internally, cursing his luck in a putrid rainbow of forbidden gobbeldygook that would sour milk if he had uttered any of it. It had fallen off his head, he reasoned. It had rolled out towards the door. These suck ups would find it and know he was in here. Worse still, they would take the beloved mushroom to the orcs. The thought sickened him, but still he stayed concealed.

　　They shifted a container wordlessly. The sounds of the suck ups came from further into the room than he would like, but off to a wall. They would likely have their backs turned. The panic stricken goblin chef finally snuck a look at the room beyond, hunting for his hat.

　　It had come to rest behind some jars between his hiding spot and the door. He saw the two suck ups looking into one of the containers against the far wall from him. It would be a straight shot, grabbing the mushroom on the way to the exit before they turned back around. He made a goblin decision to go for it halfway through the planning.

　　After the couple steps to the hat, he ducked low to pick it up and turned to the door with speed. One of the suck ups had turned around and spotted him, but it was too late to stop him. His brain finished baking his idea right about now, and he decided it was time to rough it in the wilderness. He`d go back to the camp and finish the goblin boil. The resolution filled him with purpose, bolstered by the weight he carried under his arm, wrapped in a chef`s hat. He scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue as he ran past.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

　　He didn`t see the other goblin hefting the lid to the jar they had been examining. He met the ground with complete surprise and the sound of pottery shattering against his skull.

　　The two came over to look at him, clutching his hat in the fetal position, closing his eyes to the stars and colors and swimming vision. He couldn`t focus on what the suck ups were saying, but they were talking over him. At a command, one took his legs and the other took his arms, leaving the hat resting on his mid-section, and carried him away.

　　He was dragged bodily into the tent with the orc and medicine woman. They dropped him in front of the seated orc. An obviously embellished explanation came wheedling out of them.

　　"Double work load," the orc said dispassionately. "He`ll take half of each of yours."

　　The two goblins bowed and ran giddily out of the tent.

　　"Get it on its feet, medicine woman," the orc said to Auntie. She instinctively hastened to the goblin despite her lingering disgust.

　　She muttered to herself the same thing that got her through the several other goblins that had needed her aid, "You might take some load off of my kobolds out there."

　　The world was coming back into focus for the goblin chef, but his head smarted intensely. There was a disturbance outside, a booming sound. A wave of pain from the headache made him groan.

　　"They`ve toppled the rock pile," the orc growled, "Again!"

　　Finding only one useless goblin and old crone at his disposal, he rolled his eyes and crawled out of the tent to administer more justice.

　　Auntie diagnosed a near-concussion, noting with a snort how lucky the thing was. She tried to remove the chef`s hat it was clutching and met resistance.

　　"Give it here and let me get a look at you. I need to see if you`ve got any other injuries," she said testily.

　　The goblin hissed like a cornered animal, clutching tighter.

　　"Gods confound you!" she shouted. There was no telling if it knew where it was, or what she was doing, or that it could even understand her.

　　She threw her hands up and went over to her medicine stores. There was nothing left for a headache, as she suspected would form with a bruise like that in early bloom, but she did have her secret store of stronger stuff.

　　She hesitated. She was saving this to use against her orc captor. As best as she could figure, it would give her an edge or widen an opportunity. It would at least stagger him if she could somehow administer it, and at best knock him out completely for a couple minutes.

　　In the end, the goblin gave another pitiful groan. It made her angry. All this time, these goblins and orcs were here to take her tribe`s land, eat their food, and drink their water. On its feet indeed, she thought haughtily. She separated a small portion of the drug and dissolved it in some water. She didn`t know what it would accomplish, but her anger made her want to rebel. This would knock the goblin out for some time. At least long enough to find out what was in that hat.

　　When she had knelt to administer the water, only a few dribbles in, the sound of screaming arose outside. It wasn`t typical goblin chaos or orc commands. She had become used to those. This was different. It was filled with blood-curdling panic.

　　She got back up and made it to the door of the hut, only to be blasted with sunlight. She had been inside the shady shelter for too long, tending the wounded. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the mid-evening light. But she could hear screams close by. Another booming sound filled the air, but it came from the sky. It sounded like a roar.

　　The moment she was no longer dazzled, she saw the disarray caused by goblins stirred like an ant`s nest. She saw the orc face down on the ground, the remaining few rallying, weapons drawn, looking at the sky. Following their gaze, she saw a golden god hanging above them on translucent wings. It was a small thing, and one she recognized when she looked carefully. It was Chicken, though she couldn`t believe it. His face was twisted in a terrifying expression, his eyes like holes to the blue sky beyond, his open mouth issuing fire. He had come to save them, she realized, though she didn`t know how it could be like this. She prayed desperately that their people would survive the attempt.