Greetings all; I hope you'll forgive a later update. It's been a busy few weekends, and since that's when I get the majority of my writing done, it's been a little difficult. But a new chapter is here. I hope you enjoy it on this Wednesday evening.

Chapter 3

Piling On

"I'm loving the Tiefling influence here. I don't get the string on the horns, but the LEDs are superb." The young woman had not ceased circling him. Jim stared at Claire, hardly daring to breathe. What if she got too close and noticed his skin was true stone? Claire met his gaze and he shifted slightly, wishing he could be anywhere else. "I guess if there's a complaint it's that you're nowhere near ugly enough to be a 'beast.' Even with the teeth, you're still not very vicious-looking. But attractive monsters are in right now. I even don't mind the glowy claws, gives a kind of 'magical' feel, you know?"

Jim might have been flattered if he wasn't freaking out. What was she talking about? "Uh. Thanks."

Claire coughed. "Kim, I –"

The woman, Kim, turned in a whirl of brown curls. "You're an angel! I swear, I was at the end of my rope. There are no people around that are willing to play the beast for this, none!" Jim focused on her, startled. They had no beast? Claire had said there was a role that needed filling, but the beast? One half of the title characters was kind of a big deal.

Everything clicked. The woman thought he was trying out to fill the role and had worn a costume to the theatre. He groaned inwardly, remembering the terror of the Romeo and Juliet audition. Someone up there loved to see him squirm. Jim exhaled deeply, trying to keep his voice steady. "Claire, think you could help me with one of the horns? It feels kind of loose."

Claire nodded. "Of course. Guys, I'll be right back. Give us a sec?" The cast stepped back so they could sidle around the chairs and into the hallway, Claire leading him to a broom closet. They slipped inside and she shut the door before her eyes grew round and she gasped. "That was so close. Too close! Is the brownie okay!?"

Jim felt the lithe creature slither out of the chest plate, popping its head up under his chin. Claire scooped it up and it dove gratefully into her purse with the other two. "You three are in trouble once we figure this out!" Claire ran her hands through her hair, trembling with nerves. "Blood goblins in the rafters. Of course there are. What are we going to do about them?"

"If we can hang around until after rehearsal, I can get rid of them. They won't attack if they know they're outnumbered and that a bigger troll is guarding the area. Heck, they might am-scray by the time the students leave." Jim scratched his head, glad for once of the way his troll form made it easy to ignore his human emotions. He needed to keep his head if it was Claire's turn to spaz. "There's no beast for the play? Since when?"

"I just found out a few hours ago, Kim's going to read the beast's part for practice." Claire lowered her eyes to her hands, fingers tangling together uneasily. "Jeff's got mono and the understudy broke his leg. She's looking for people that might be willing to play the role…oh, I'm so stupid! If you don't at least try out they'll be crushed!" She lifted her chin, calculating. "But if you do try out, and you do really badly, they won't insist you play the beast…"

"Wait, time out. What happens if you can't find anyone else?" She hesitated and Jim crossed his arms loosely. "Claire?"

"She's still looking. But if we can't find someone…well, you can't have Beauty and the Beast without the beast anymore than guacamole without avocado. We might have to cancel." She poked his chest with a finger. "But you are way too busy to worry about this. Which is why I didn't even mention it."

Jim leaned against the wall, glancing over the shelves. A mop was propped up beside one set and cleaning supplies filled the room. It was cramped, and he was close enough to see the worry on her face. Claire had been so patient for a role, waiting and working. And now the play might not go on? Jim lowered his head so he could meet her eye. "Are you sure you don't want me to actually try out? This play is important to you."

She shook her head sternly. "Maybe, but you're more important to me than a play. We'll figure something out." Jim's entire core warmed at her firm statement. "Come on, let's go. Channel your inner Tommy Wiseau."

"Who?"

"Er…okay, go for Keanu Reeves on melatonin supplements." She poked her zipped purse. "And you guys stay in there! You're safe with people around, the goblins won't attack now that they know the Trollhunter's here."

Jim followed her out of the closet, breathing deeply. Be a bad actor. He could do that. He didn't really think he was much better than passable anyway, especially compared to Claire. The students were back up by the theatre, Kim typing furiously on her tablet. She looked up as they approached, eyes bright. "So, you want to check out the stage? We'll try a scene, I've got a copy of the script. No judgment here, we're all learning."

She reached into her backpack and pulled out a copy. Jim accepted it and turned it to the beast's first scene with Belle, acting as though he had to look for it. "Okay. So…want to try the meeting scene?"

"Sounds perfect." Kim jumped up and ran to the center of the stage. "Belle will enter here, calling for her father. You'll be over here – pretend there's a wall you're hiding behind along the tape here, you'll be watching her – and she'll act like she heard you." She fixed her eyes on the pair. "Belle is frightened, scared for her father, lost in a strange, forbidding place all alone. The beast is angry at the intrusion, cold by nature, but also just a bit curious." She raised a hand as if she'd seen a vision. "He sees this beautiful creature, and she just doesn't belong there in the dark. He tries to get her to leave but she won't! She's too loyal, too bold. He respects her for it, even though she's terrified when she sees him." She put her hands together. "Okay, let's try this. Whenever you're ready." Scampering from the stage, Kim ducked behind the curtain and watched intently.

Jim glanced at Claire and made his way to the place Kim had indicated. His heart pounded in his throat. Be a bad actor on purpose. As if he would be good enough to be in a production with Claire and college actors anyway, right? And there was no way he could handle a play on top of the stonescale, and looking after the market, and his schoolwork –

Claire "entered" and in that moment they weren't on a stage, they were in a dark, stale castle that smelled of damp. She wasn't Claire, she was Belle, and her brown eyes gleamed with fear. She turned in place, checking to make sure nothing was creeping up on her, and Jim stared at her.

This was her element. Her passion. He couldn't let her lose this. No matter what.

He shifted slightly to make the "noise" that Belle would hear. Her head swiveled, startled. "Who's there? I hear you!" Her voice trembled but she spoke clearly, loud. She projected well.

Be a beast. A creature locked in the dark by a magical being. It shouldn't be too hard. Jim lifted his head. "The master of this castle. The one you trespass in." Was that him? He sounded cold, angry. The way an animal locked in a cage would sound at the first sign of a stranger. Claire blinked, temporarily out of character, but she delved back into the role.

"I…I beg your pardon. I'm seeking my father, an old merchant man. Have you given hospitality to such a person? He hasn't come home and he was due yesterday, but his horse arrived!" She dared to take a step forward. Jim turned his face toward her, pretending to be obscured by a wall.

"He rots in my dungeon. He too trespassed in my home, and I suffer no disturbance in my solitude. You at least had reason." He glanced at the script – it called for the beast to move around the "wall" to be behind Belle, prowling. Might as well go all out. He moved to the other side, eyes narrowing. "Begone and do not return, or you won't find me so lenient."

"No! My father – he would never have come here unless he had to! The weather must have forced him to seek shelter and your home was the only place. Please, show mercy on him!" She hit her knees, weak with terror, with loss. "We would never return, never disturb you again! He couldn't have known!"

"He has had the misfortune of seeing my face. I cannot let him leave and speak of me, or hunters will come daily to my door. Leave before you too see it and must join him. I will not put myself or my subjects at risk!"

"Oh, but he wouldn't! He's old, tired, no one would believe him! They would think he'd taken ill in the forest! I…"

She hesitated and Jim waited. Her eyes shone with fire. "I'll stay. I'll take his place. If – if he goes back into town without me, speaking of a…person…they'll assume I was killed by bandits. They'll think he was overcome with grief." She pressed one hand to her chest. "Please. Take me as your prisoner."

Jim scoffed. But he mulled it over, still prowling. "You would stay as long as you live? Swear on your life girl. Is an old man that surely has ten years, if that, worth trading your own young life for?"

"He's my father. I won't let anything happen to him!" she snapped. He drew up short. "I'm not afraid! Come out in the light and we'll strike the bargain, unless you're too frightened to face me."

Jim slowly stepped toward her and she fell back, eyes wide and horrified. It was completely believable, pupils widening like an animal ready to flee. This beautiful creature had seen him – what would she say? At last she closed her mouth and stepped toward him, staring straight into his eyes. She held her shaking hands to her chest. "I swear on my life. I will remain here if you let him go."

He nodded, their faces inches apart. "Very well. We have a deal. I will send him home, and you…you will stay in the eastern wing of the castle. I'll have a room prepared." He turned away from her and crossed the stage.

"A room? Isn't my father…in the dungeon?" He stopped and turned to look at her.

"Would you prefer such quarters?" She shook her head. "Then follow me. If you've a more sensible question I might answer that."

"…I do have one question. If I'm to stay here…what should I call the master of the castle?" She looked small under the lights, frail, and he laughed sharply.

"Call me the beast. What am I to call you?"

She drew herself up. "Belle. My name is Belle."

He gazed at her for a moment. This beautiful flower blooming in the darkest of places was brilliant as the sun. "It suits you."

That was the end of the scene – the beast and Belle spoke again later, after a change of scenery. Jim stood awkwardly, Claire clearing her throat and waving hand in front of her face. She'd actually managed to produce slight tears. Talk about an actress.

"You two are electric together!" He'd nearly forgotten Kim staring at them. "You move in that costume like well-oiled machinery! And the tone shifts were just perfect!" Kim was enthused, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad you found him Claire! The chemistry between you two is amazing, have you acted together before?"

Claire blushed, brushing her hair back. "Um, well, yeah. In our high school production of Romeo and Juliet. We were the lead roles."

One of the women in the seats nodded. The other students were watching from the first row. "Looks really good from here too. Just…hon, can you make your face a little meaner?" She pointed to Jim. "When you were trying to scare her at first, your voice was great. But you've got a really sweet face, so you'll need to push the emotion to make it believable. Those pretty baby blues aren't good for looking nasty."

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll try."

Kim nodded thoughtfully. "Excellent point Natalie. Maybe some makeup to darken his features, increase the contrast…hm. Well, I was thinking we would rehearse tonight, but with a new beast that probably needs to read through the lines a couple times, why don't we try for Monday night? I know we've all got some projects due by Monday morning." Several of the actors muttered and Jim bit his lip. His Spanish assignment loomed like a gargoyle overhead. Oh, he was going to regret this.

He glanced at Claire. She looked exasperated but a euphoric flush filled her face. Maybe he wouldn't regret it after all.

"Come ready to go through the whole play." She turned to Jim and Claire again, gratitude radiating out of her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even catch your name. You two are really saving the day."

"Oh. No, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Jim." Her brows rose.

"Ohhh…that Jim." She beamed at Claire. "He's a keeper."

Claire sighed. "Yes. He definitely is. We'll show up without makeup Monday night."

"Good idea. How quick can you change out of that stuff? There's only about ten seconds where we obscure you from the audience," Kim said suddenly, concern marking her face.

"That should be enough time. It's really flexible and movable. Uh…trade secret by the guy I commissioned it from. If he told me, he'd have to kill me." Jim forced a laugh. "But it absolutely can't get into sunlight. It'll be damaged beyond repair." Kim made a note in her tablet.

"Of course, we'll do everything we can to keep it in good condition. I'll bring sandwiches on Monday, we'll be here a while. Any dietary preferences, food allergies? Gluten okay?" He was struck by the thoughtfulness of the questions and by the directness of her movements. Kim seemed a little awkward, but when it came to the theatre, it was obvious that nothing would escape her in her laser-like focus. He couldn't help but glance at Claire – a kindred spirit.

When the students began to leave, he balked by requesting the bathroom. Upon reaching the hall, Jim doubled back to slip up the stairs and hide in the mezzanines. As the students wrapped up, Claire among them, Jim took the time to hunt for the scent of goblins. He sniffed and paced across the balcony, staring up at the rafters.

The goblins had done the smart thing and fled. The scent was old and there was no movement. Jim stared into the rafters and knew that there was no tracking them in a populated city, even late at night. Too much exhaust in the air, pollution, people, rodents.

He took care to run his hand along the railing, even rubbing his head against the nearest wall. If the goblins returned, it would be to a place with the scent of a troll, one they had seen and knew was no friend to them. When he heard the door creak and knew the other students had gone, he switched back to his human form and descended the stairs. Claire waited, holding the purse like a baby. They stopped by the seats they'd left the crates of ginger in. "So," Jim began, "I guess we're in a play together. Again."

Claire sighed. "Jim…that was really sweet of you. Just don't run yourself ragged, okay? I couldn't stand it if the play is what pushed you too far."

"Hey." He drew her close, arms looped around her waist. "Did I or did I not manage to pull off a half-decent Romeo after killing Bular with the others?"

"You did." She leaned against him, moving her purse so it hung off her shoulder. "More than half-decent. But that was when Trollmarket was well-established and people weren't going crazy with stonescale. Not to mention that school program." She rolled her eyes. "And our new furry friends."

"It might do me some good to focus on something creative for a change." Jim swept a stray lock away from her forehead. "And I'd be lying if I said I minded spending more time with you. I love seeing you onstage." She gave him a small, sly smile and pressed her lips to his in a fond, tender kiss.

Tiny squeaks and chitters interrupted the moment. The brownies were peeking out of the purse. Claire sighed and picked up her crate. "Guess we should get these guys back to New Trollmarket for now. I hope the others weren't too worried. Think they've gotten everyone up to speed about the brownies?"

"I don't know. I hope so. If not, I'll just have to explain everything to the trolls." Taking the other box, Jim followed her to the door. "I'm sure Toby and the others managed to handle these little guys for a few hours. Right?"

Claire stared at Toby. The young man stared back. His shirt was torn, his hair looked like something had been chewing on it, and his pant leg was burnt. "So. Not great?"

Toby shook his head. "The introduction was…rocky."

Jim was already in the heartstone chamber trying to figure out what to do. Claire heard snatches from the tunnel.

"Got into the quartz lamps in my shop-!"

"They're spitting on everything! Everything!

"I yelled at them to leave and they attacked me! I've got marker everywhere!"

"If one of those things gets anywhere near me, I'm stepping on them-!"

Claire opened her purse and the three brownies leaped out, ears pricked with interest as they scurried off. "We got the ginger. And Jim's in the play now."

Toby nodded. "Ah. Interesting." A mean-spirited cackle broke in the next room, followed by the sound of something shattering. Claire made her way into the heartstone chamber to see the damage and was not disappointed.

The heartstone itself was unharmed. It was also covered in spittle. Twenty brownies were perched atop it, spitting furiously onto it and rubbing the liquid with their paws. It smeared across the crystal in a thin film. Blinky was trying to use his staff to scoop them off the heartstone and onto the ground, but the brownies hopped over it each time, laughing wildly. "I insist you climb down this instant! This is not making a good impression!"

Another bunch dashed by, chasing Bagdwella, who was batting them back with a broom. "They're worse than gnomes! They jump higher!" she shrieked. "Every single quartz light crystal in my shop, demolished!" The brownies diverted around the broom, a furry tide. Claire grabbed a few of their tails, holding them to her chest. They wriggled but did not bite, and Claire exclaimed in anger; Aaarrrgghh was holding a set of his own, and they were spitting on his arm.

Maybe spitting was a greeting to brownies, maybe it wasn't. But the sight made her furious. She swallowed harsh words and gave the creatures a deathly glare. They ceased spitting, noses quivering in surprise. "What is going on here?"

Toby followed her, grabbing a few brownies himself. "We gathered the brownies in here to bring Trollmarket in to meet them, kind of give them the lowdown on how things work around here. But the second they spotted the heartstone they went nuts and started spitting on it. Just…just spitting!" He waved a hand emphatically. "No warning. And then another group ran in, I think they were eating rock candy or something because the changeling kiddos were upset. And these little guys are hellions on sugar."

NotEnrique came barreling in, dragging the toy bin from the changeling children's room. "Use this thing to box 'em up until we figure out what to do!" Claire deposited her batch and Toby mimicked her, the brownies protesting as the lid was shut.

"I'm sorry! It's not permanent, we just need to get things under control!" Claire held it down until NotEnrique could climb on, pinning it shut. Aaarrrgghh made it to them, dumping his armload in and grimacing at the saliva on his arm. "Anyone who doesn't want to go in the box, calm down now!" Claire yelled.

The room slowly came to a halt, like a dryer shutting off and settling into a warm heap. The brownies climbed down from the heartstone, Jim carrying eight of the ones that had been chasing Bagdwella under either arm. He placed them on the ground and pushed his hair back. "Everyone needs to take a deep breath. No spitting, no running, no talking. Just. Breathe."

Blinky came over, puffing for breath. Jim let his hands fall to his sides, gesturing for NotEnrique to open the box. The brownies within buzzed with irritation. "Sorry about that. But you guys are acting a little crazy." He knelt beside the box and the free brownies bounded over. "I think we're getting off on the wrong foot here."

"That's putting it mildly!" Another troll poked their head from one of the tunnels, staring at the mob of furry creatures. "We're itching our brains out and then these little freaks start spitting and hollering and running everywhere! We're already full up as it is, now we're housing these nuts?!"

Jim inhaled deeply. "The housing situation is in progress. Please leave them alone for right now, we're all a little frustrated."

"That's a fine thing then! Where was our Trollhunter when the brownies started rampaging?" Jim flinched and Claire saw guilt bloom in his eyes. She glared at the speaker. Oh, she was not letting this start up.

"He was helping me pick up supplies for the itch relief. Thank you." Claire crossed her arms. "We'll talk to the brownies. But everyone needs to do their best to be patient. They just got released from a magic box, there's going to be a learning curve!"

"I agree. Though I think the spitting needs to stop." Blinky swept the room with a weary look. "There are a few more running about, but this should be the majority." The brownies scowled and went quiet, several tails lashing. "What? I know you're probably cross, but this behavior is not conducive to getting along!"

Several brownies blew raspberries at him and Blinky made an affronted noise. Jim glanced at Aaarrrgghh. "Are you picking anything up?"

"They say…brownies do good deeds. Except for marker face. And eating lamps. But they hungry, and trolls are big and mean and angry. Brownies do not like being yelled at for doing good things." Aaarrrgghh wiped his arm, making a face at the layer of saliva that still clung to it, covering his patch of stonescale. "Not sure what good spitting is…"

At this the brownies made a wave of noise, angry and disappointed. Jim put up his hands. "He didn't mean it that way! We're just not used to people spitting on stuff. Maybe that's normal where brownies come from, but it's gotta stop. At least until we get you guys a part of the market where you can stay. Okay?"

Most of the mob made grudging sounds of agreement. Jim looked around the room haggardly. Muttering from the next tunnel made Claire squint. "Come on out guys. The situation is contained."

Several of the changeling children came into view, eyes wary. "The brownies ate all the rock candy we made!" one complained, a younger one sniffling. "We worked hard on it!"

"Aw guys." Toby put his hands on his knees. "I'm sorry. The brownies were probably really hungry and didn't know it belonged to anyone. Tell you what, we'll make a fresh batch later. I'm sure Dr. Lake and Strickler will understand. And I think Claire and Jimbo brought back some new books for you guys!" The frowns immediately lessened. "Dr. L is still helping the trolls with the worst stonescale, and I think Strickler's in his hidey hole grading papers." Toby turned in a circle. "Guess we should clean this place up. There's spit everywhere."

"I'll get a mop," Jim said. Claire hesitated, and the concern must have shown on her face because Jim met her gaze. "We can go over lines once this place is passable. And then I'll finish the Spanish."

Toby checked his phone uneasily. "Dude, it's already eight. You planning on sleeping?"

"I'll take troll form. I can go longer without sleeping in it." Jim left the room and Claire chewed her lip as they waited for his return.

"He knows if he does that he's only going to crash later, right?" Toby asked after a moment.

"Yeah. This is why I didn't say anything about the play needing a replacement beast. Oh yeah," she added, seeing his surprise, "Jim's the beast now, it's a big role. I wouldn't feel so bad if it were some one-off part…"

"Well, let's just help get this place fixed up. One step at a time." Toby brushed off his clothes and winced at his burnt pant leg. "Eh, I guess these can be a snack for someone. I'll change into another set."

"How did that even happen?" Claire asked. She started picking up broken crystal and stone, putting it in the empty toy chest.

"Um. Well, let's just say the brownies found a lighter we use to start the fires in the Troll Pub. They like fire. Oh, and the pub is a wreck."

Blinky shook his head; he'd been examining the heartstone with hawklike focus. "Aaarrrgghh and I will handle that room. I'm sure a few others will pitch in. I just hope the brownies will stay in the Hero's Forge for the night. I hope this spit doesn't harm the heartstone…"

"Aaarrrgghh keep watch when done." With that the four parted, two heading into the tunnels and the other two looking around in exasperation.

Jim did not fall into bed. It was more of a lurching crash. And it was only the dull panic of realizing his assignments weren't done that made him sit up. "Claire?"

He stumbled to his feet. Four hours. Four hours of scrubbing the room and sweeping and cleaning. The brownie saliva still hadn't completely come out of the heartstone, leaving a gross film on the surface. Troll form had kept him stable, but reverting had a price – the energy expended as a troll did not translate well to a human, and the room spun as his eyes ached.

Claire sat in the chair in the corner and let out a sigh. The only practice they'd had that evening was basically them saying the lines they could remember while they cleaned. Jim hoped he could remember it all. "Okay. Let's look at the Spanish."

"Right. Yeah." Jim blinked hard and considered switching back to troll form, deciding against it after a second. He had difficulty writing as a troll and the urge to be out in the night was too much of a distraction. Jim turned to his desk and shuffled a few pages around. "I think…this one. It's a short essay about the landmarks of South America. Has to be a page and a half." He sighed. "I was about half a page in." Rubbing his eyes blearily, Jim felt her looking over his shoulder. "A very rough half page."

Claire picked up the papers, taking them back to her seat to look them over. Jim wondered if he ought to look at the vocabulary worksheets but couldn't find the will to do so. He'd been okay earlier, dicing up ingredients for the stonescale treatment, but that mocha was not in his system anymore.

This was just another late night in a series, and it seemed as if they were finally catching up with him. He disliked coffee but drank it for the caffeine, but something told him even a double espresso wouldn't wake him up properly at this point. He'd probably have weird nightmares too. Caffeine always did that when he drank soda too late…like the one with the flying Food Magic blender and the ferrets…

"Jim? Jim." Claire's voice jerked him out of his reverie. "I was saying that the assignment looks good. It's a page and a half, look."

She held up the pages and Jim stared at them. "I swear I was only half a page in."

"Well, maybe you forgot working on the rest. Although…no offense, but this is better than your Spanish usually is." She frowned deeply, turning the page. "Strange."

Jim blinked slowly. "Does that mean it's sleepy time?"

She smiled at him with a sympathetic twist to her lips. "Yes, that's what it means. Get some sleep Jim. I'll look over these and then I'll sleep in your mom's room." Mom and Strickler were in New Trollmarket as often as not, and so a room was always ready for her – or any human really – so they could be comfortable in the underground. Jim wanted to protest that she was tired, that he would just look it over when he got up, but the second he sat down on the edge of his bed the world faded to the delicious, deep black of sleep.

Hoboken was never quiet, even at night. But in an alley tucked behind several buildings, with a few dumpsters bunched together, just behind a taco shop, the sounds of long-limbed creatures could be heard. Unwary passerby and homeless wanderers assumed rats and hurried away. Small animals caught the scent of foreign creatures and gave it a berth.

The goblins that lived inside the dumpsters had been there for years. They were old creatures, wily and content with the seasoned beef and old cheese and paper wrappers. They weren't so foolish as to go after humans. Rat and cat were nearly as good and much easier to obtain.

The oldest of them was a deep green, dark-eyed creature known as Tagga. He had guided the goblins for a decade, ever since their last leader had unfortunately been crushed under a tilting port-a-potty. It had been tragic. He sat atop one of the dumpsters, chewing on the remains of a rotten piece of lettuce.

He straightened, peering over the edge. Red eyes peered up at him. Another batch of goblins? He sniffed – blood goblins. They were powerful and fierce, but a seasoned goblin like Tagga did not scare easily. His pack crept out from under the garbage, a couple dozen of them, muttering warily.

"Why you in our territory?" The goblin tongue was quick and sharp, indiscernible to most other races. The blood goblins came into view, an even dozen.

"Darklands fall. Many escape through cracks. Looking for home. Share this place? Have information." The largest blood goblin climbed onto the dumpster to speak with him. "Brownies have returned."

Tagga faltered. Every goblin had heard the stories of the delicious, juicy, crunchy delicacy known as the brownie. They were small with hard feet and soft bodies, combining the firmness of stone with the sweetness of meat and blood. The parent goblins had heard stories from their parents, and their parents before them. "Have proof?"

The goblin put out his fist, tiny hairs clenched in his fingers. "Smell." Tagga sniffed it – the fur had a delicate, sweet smell, one that made his mouth water – and waited as his pack followed suit. "Protected by mixed-up monster. Human and troll, but not exactly changeling. Trollhunter."

Tagga growled. "Not making war with a Trollhunter over snacks."

"Coward. Goblins always follow, follow, follow. Never do what we want. Gunmar gone. Janus Order fractured. Goblins rise?" The blood goblin shrugged. "Brownies full of magic, make us stronger. Trollhunter can't protect them all. Make mistakes, we eat them."

Tagga's pack muttered with interest. He cocked his head. "Why you ask us?"

"Need bigger group. Too many for us. Plenty for all, and to keep for future brownies." The goblin put out his bony hand. "Deal? You and me lead together?"

Tagga glanced down at his hungry, downtrodden group. Even if they did want to refuse, blood goblins were not known to forgive those that didn't do what they wanted. He put out his hand and shook the blood goblin's, foreheads knocking together. They sniffed each other and with the peculiar magic known only to goblins, linked their minds so their packs could operate as one. "Deal."

End of Chapter 3