Chapter 9 – Homely

“Seriously, has no one around here ever seen or used a broom before?” Henderson shouted as goblins all around him shuffled their feet on the floor, trying their best to understand what he meant when he kept saying he wanted the place ‘cleaned up’.

“This is a goddamn castle, not a stable! Try to at least think about what that means!”

Henderson had spent the better part of an hour trying to instil a sense of cleanliness into these creatures. Grim had simply stood there the whole time with a smug, self-righteous grin plastered across his face. The progress he’d made, in the very nicest of terms, reminded him of what it would be like to watch a toddler imitate its mother cleaning the house.

Only here there were six toddlers, all goblins.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help me here?” Henderson spat at Grim, who stood a little straighter once he realised the Lord of the castle was addressing him.

“My Lord,” Grim said slowly, “I believe you’re expecting a little too much from these creatures. They simply have base intelligence, and your instructions lack the specificity they require. For example, when you say 'clean this place up,'” Grim used a tone that could’ve been mocking, “they have no frame of reference for 'clean' or 'this place.' If I may, my Lord, try something more like this.” Grim placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. “You,” he said, gesturing to the closest goblin who froze and looked more terrified than ever. “I want you to go and get a broom from the stores. You know - a long stick with smaller sticks on one end. Hold it with the smaller sticks against the floor and sweep from one side of this room to the other. Make a pile of the dust and dirt. Do you understand?”

The goblin stared at Grim for a long moment with its teeth protruding from its bottom lip. Then it smiled and nodded, scurrying off presumably to find a broom.

Henderson stared at Grim. “You couldn’t have done that an hour ago?”

“You didn’t ask, my Lord.”

“Do I have to ask for advice on every little thing? You know what, never mind,” Henderson said, placing a hand on his forehead again. Grim had annoyed him to a maddening level, but he managed to tamp down his frustration to concentrate on the task at hand.

A minute later, after Henderson watched the goblins scurrying about aimlessly, the goblin Grim had sent off reappeared with a broom in hand and a wide grin on his face.

Henderson watched as the goblin, without any further instructions, began sweeping the floor with the broom, mostly successfully, from one side of the throne room to the other. It was awkward and clunky at first, but eventually, the little idiot got the idea and the muck on the floor began to pile up where the goblin finished his sweeping.

Finally, Henderson could smile.

“Right!” He raised his voice. “You goblins, look at what he's doing!” He pointed toward the goblin with the broom. “Go get yourselves brooms and copy. Once this room’s done, do them all!” Then he had a thought. “Grim, how many rooms does this place have?”

“Sixty-four, my Lord,” Grim replied. “I have no doubt that this task will keep your minions occupied for quite some time.”

Henderson scratched his chin. Judging by the time it’d taken for his little minions to clean up this room, it was going to take a long time to get the castle into an acceptable state.

“Housekeepers,” Henderson announced with a smile. “Three goblins on permanent housekeeping duty.” Then he pointed at three goblins in turn. “You, you, and you. Your job is now to sweep every room in this castle and take the dust outside. Got that?”

The three goblins he pointed at seemed thrilled to have a job to do and turned their attention back to dust on the floor. It was a crude way to get the job done, but Henderson couldn’t help but let a devious grin cross his face.

You have unlocked a hidden quest:

A castle fit for a king. Make your castle clean and keep it that way.

Reward: CP

Henderson stared at the notification that now filled his vision. He’d practically given up on the idea of ever seeing something like this again. This text was presented as a deep, jagged red, coming directly from the God of Chaos herself, and he chuckled at the idea that a being of chaos would reward him for ‘tidying up’.

“My Lord,” Grim interrupted Henderson’s thought process. “If you use three of the goblins as cleaners, then you only have three left to send out in search of food. I believe that…”

“The hobgoblins are better at fighting, aren’t they, Grim?” Henderson interrupted. “Why don’t you go tell them that four hobs are to hunt for meat, and four are to gather from the vegetation? A balanced diet wouldn't hurt, so it wouldn’t do to go without either meat or veg.”

“Uh… very well, my Lord,” Grim replied with a wince. He wasn’t happy about sending his kin out of the castle at such low levels, and Henderson shared this concern, but they were the best option he had.

“They can take the wolves too. No doubt they need a walk,” Henderson added.

“I… yes, my Lord.”

“Is there a problem, Grim?” Henderson asked, knowing the answer.

“Well, at such low levels, my Lord, there would be a significant risk to the individuals sent out on this expedition.”

“You mean your kin?” Henderson asked.

“Yes, my Lord. But that has nothing to do with it,” Grim added quickly, returning to his official tone. “Losing our inhabitants would severely impact our ability to grow and thrive, perhaps even to the point where our castle could fall.”

“So what would you suggest?” Henderson asked. “Send out all the goblins and keep the hobs here safe and warm? Because I have to say…”

“That is not what I would suggest, my Lord. I would propose sending out all of the hobgoblins, goblins, and dire wolves so that the low levels of our creatures are outweighed by sheer numbers. I would suggest sending the ogres too, but they would likely cause more trouble than they are worth, especially if our minions need to escape from aggressors quickly.”

Henderson sighed at the realisation that his cleaning quest would have to wait for now.

“Alright,” he said. “All the goblins and the hobs, along with the wolves. We’ll try our best to avoid conflict and gather what we can in a day. I want everyone back before nightfall, then we’ll work out a plan for the future.”

“Very good, my Lord,” Grim replied, seemingly placated by Henderson’s plan. “That should allow us to collect enough food to last us a good week.”

“And water?” Henderson added.

“Ah, well,” Grim said.

“Well, what?”

“Well… we have a well,” Grim replied. “It’s a part of the reason many castles in the wilderness are built like this one: we sit low in the water table, allowing the well to fill and provide a never-ending source of water to the castle.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” Henderson asked, suddenly realising he could’ve had a drink long ago.

“Well…” Grim began.

“Say 'well' again,” Henderson growled.

“Yes, my Lord. Would you like me to fetch you a drink now?”

Henderson nodded slowly and silently, not taking his eyes off the annoying hob.

Grim then clapped his hands once, and one of the goblins, who was wandering around with a broom immediately dropped it with a clatter and ran off. A minute later, he reappeared with a wooden tankard filled to the brim with water.

Henderson stared at the goblin with a grimace. Not only did the water look like it needed a good filtration system, but to prevent spilling, the goblin had placed his hand over the tankard, causing whatever dirt he had on his hands to wash into the drink.

Henderson shook his head, shrugged, and took a gulp of the water. It was cool and refreshing, though not without the slight undertaste of well water, dirty wooden tankard, and dirty goblin hand. He wiped his mouth and sighed. He hadn’t realised just how thirsty he’d been, but after that drink, he felt much better.

“I’m coming with,” Henderson announced to Grim. “What about you?”

“I cannot leave the castle, my Lord. I advise you to do the same. If you fall outside these walls…” Grim began.

“Oh,” Henderson interrupted. “I didn’t mean I was going to physically go. I have a rather special ability. It allows me to take control of a creature of Chaos, but my physical body will remain here.”

“Ah, that is very handy, my Lord,” Grim replied, acting as if Henderson had mentioned the most normal thing in the world. “What is the limit of this ability in terms of range and time?”

Henderson blinked. He’d been expecting Grim to be surprised by such a marvellous gift, but the hob's response was filled with questions that Henderson hadn’t thought about and really had no answer to.

“You know what, Grim?” Henderson said. “I have no idea. But I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”