My Big Goblin Space Program [COMPLETE]

Chapter 109 - Just a Swamp Thing

Chapter 109 - Just a Swamp ThingI circled the bluff, joining the pattern of gliders already filling the airspace. We’d been gone a few weeks, and I wanted to see the extent of the changes.

As we climbed, I got a look at the upper suspended platforms where goblins worked at workshops, turned lathes, tuned engines, slept, or crafted. The top-most layer had stockpiles of raw materials and workshops for clothing and armor. The balloons keeping the whole thing suspended were thick canvas, and looked like they had once been a ship’s sails. Braziers of scat fed them with hot air. I suppose several-hundred goblins created more than enough fuel to keep them lofted but I wasn’t sure what we’d ever do if they needed to come down.

Buzz pointed out various facilities and workshops as we passed. “

Good to see things hadn’t changed. I pushed the stick forward and took us low. The forest had been pushed back even more, now at least half a kilometer from the edge of the bluff in most directions and even more to the west, where the paddocks held dozens of herd animals captured and brought in from the plains. A clutch of 20-30 captured hoppers bounded away from our low pass, and near them a dozen oryx drank from a trough. Small packs of cliffords ran freely across the grass, keeping the herds together. Wranglers rode alongside on dirt-bikes with prods and clubs.

There was one form I didn’t recognize right away, until it raised its head and I saw the large, pronged tusks jutting from the wide, flat face.

“ I asked, dumbfounded.

“”

Having placed in the Stampede, we now had a right by the orcs to hunt game in the plains, and that meant being able to build up our herd animals. But that wasn’t the only food project. I angled us north, where we’d cleared all the way to the river for farm-land. Though, looking at what were supposed to be tilled fields, it looked more like the zen-garden of a dyslexic dog than the ordered rows of an industrial farm. Here and there, an odd plant poked through the surface and the occasional large hole pocked the area.

“said Buzz, “

I grimaced. “I said.

As I flew over, a fountain of dirt shot into the sky, leaving a new smoking hole in the field. The reached us a moment later.

“ I asked. Buzz nodded. Our one successful agricultural venture thus far had been the bomb-fruit orchard created primarily by accident when trying to create safe storage for the volatile fruits during my first days on Rava. Whatever else they were, bomb-fruits were extremely efficient at scattering their seeds. Back then I’d only had a couple dozen goblins in the tribe, and the loss of even a single one was devastating. Now, System didn’t even alert me unless there was a significant drop in a short time.

I angled the plane north toward the river, where an extensive network of docks jutted out into the water. Small boats floated up and down, powered mostly by manual impellers and the rare gas outboard engine. The fishermen were using anything from small, 3-goblin canoes to the big 10+ goblin pontoon barges. Upstream, I could see several wooden towers dotting the banks, poking up above the tree-line.his tribe was already starting to become.

<

System was a damn liar. I chuckled. Off to the northwest, I spotted another smoke trail and shaded my eyes. “

Buzz followed my gaze. “

I frowned, looking at it. Had the wayward king of Daytona managed to burn down his own castle? Somehow, I doubted it. I dipped the wings and angled the glider towards the swamp king’s domain.

As we got closer, I could see that there was definite damage to the outer walls and huts of the island. A shredded, untethered hide balloon draped across the tree-tops, and several primitive boats were smashed on the shore. The keep’s perimeter wall was damaged and smoldering in several places—absolutely not by accident. Someone had attacked Ringo. Of the boglins, there was no sign.

“ said Armstrong, leaning so far out of the plane he threatened to throw off our CG.

“,” I said. I circled around for a lower pass and spotted a group of croc-knockers watching us as we flew by. Which struck me as odd, for some reason. As I passed over, they opened their mouths—despite the fact we were clearly out of range of their prills. Rather than iron, a cloud of red mist streamed up from their nostrils and mouths, taking the form of a narrow lance that shot up towards us.

“” I shouted.

I jammed the throttle wide open as Armstrong scrambled for the rifle under his seat. He fired several shots back at the thing, which seemed to have no effect. But we built speed, and the thing apparently reached the end of whatever tethered it to the crocks, because it doubled back and shot towards the pack of reptiles once more. My stomach just about lurched into my throat, and my heart thumped in my chest. That was the same type of creature or spirit or I’d seen take over the cliffords we brought to Huntsville and wreck up our first camp. We hadn’t had any problems with them since, but clearly something had changed.

I angled us back toward Huntsville. “

“

I didn’t want to delay electric motors and generators any longer, but this situation couldn’t be ignored. Ringo was my canary in the coal mine, and he had clearly stopped singing. I wanted to know what he saw, which meant I had to find him.

“

I needn’t have asked. The burly scrapper was already uncinching his safety harness and slinging the rifle over his shoulder. He shot me a quick salute, and I nodded. Buzz and I awkwardly switched places with my lead builder assuming the controls. He wasn’t a great pilot—in fact he was kind of terrible and terrifying—which was why he was in charge of building things instead of running the air wing. But he got us relatively over-top Huntsville. I grabbed an emergency glider from the cockpit and scrambled out onto the wing. When I was sure I was clear of the prop, I leapt off the wing and opened the glider, catching the air and starting to circle over the bustling village Huntsville had become in my absence. A few seconds later, several blue, furry forms plummeted past me.

Armstrong and his secretive service hadn’t bothered with the gliders.