Deep within the Forest of Gloom, the Blackrock Clan's camp was no longer the crude settlement it had been a year ago.
The previously scattered tents had been replaced by stone-built low houses, their roofs covered with dried mushroom skins, which served both as rain protection and insulation; a newly constructed forge in the center of the Blackrock Spire camp emitted wisps of smoke, and the chimney of Stonewatch was twice as tall as last year, with the sound of forging 'ding-donging' from early morning until late night; the mushroom field had been expanded threefold, with large patches of giant green mushrooms standing in the field like small umbrellas, and goblin pushed small carts, carefully harvesting the ripe mushrooms and delivering them to the nearby brewery.
Kurzadh stood in front of the incubation shed on the east side of the camp, holding a round Furball in his arms—that was the squig beast cub, a reward from the cloth Brotherhood campaign, which had now grown to half a person's height, its entire body covered in thick, soft green fur, like a giant ball of yarn, and at this moment, it was rubbing its small head against Kurzadh's arm, making 'woo woo' sounds of endearment, looking exactly like a 'green-skinned puppy'.
His gaze was fixed on the giant egg in the center of the shed; the eggshell was larger than a bucket, its surface covered with silver-gray patterns, like a layer of hard armor, and it was currently shaking slightly, with a thin crack appearing on its shell.
"Crack… crack…"
Faint cracking sounds came from inside the eggshell, the crack grew wider and wider, and silver-gray fragments slid off the eggshell, revealing a small light-green body inside.
Not long after, the eggshell burst open with a 'bang', and a palm-sized Arachnari Giant Spider crawled out—its body was like a jade green gem, its eight slender spider legs were covered with fine fur, and two small compound eyes topped its head, making it look not scary at all, but rather somewhat cute.
"It's out! It's out!"
Outside the incubation shed, a group of night hobgoblins crowded at the entrance, their eyes wide, shouting excitedly.
Keziaz was even more agitated, stomping his feet, almost dropping the short bow in his hand, wishing he could perform a unique green-skin war dance on the spot—the Arachnari Giant Spider was a legendary war spider, capable of growing over five meters tall when mature, its silk tough enough to block iron arrows, and it could also spray paralyzing venom; if it could be trained as a mount, the night hobgoblins' combat power could at least double!
A proper giant beast unit!
"All of you, quiet down! Don't scare it!" Keziaz suddenly turned his head and roared at the night hobgoblins behind him, but his voice was full of irrepressible excitement.
He carefully walked into the shed, squatted beside the giant spider, extended a finger, and gently touched its spider leg—the giant spider not only didn't shy away but instead crawled up his finger onto his shoulder, rubbing its small head against his cheek.
"Hehehe… my little darling…" Keziaz's eyes narrowed with a smile, and he quickly pulled out a piece of dried poisonous mushroom from his embrace, offering it to the giant spider's mouth.
The giant spider bit into the mushroom, eating it with relish, which made the surrounding night hobgoblins envious, and they all clamored, "I want to feed it too!" and "Let me hold it!"
Kurzadh looked at the lively scene before him, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up.
A year ago, the Blackrock Clan only had over two hundred greenskins, with a variety of weapons and equipment, and they couldn't even get a full meal; now, the number of greenskins in the tribe has already exceeded a thousand, including not only orcs, hobgoblins, and night hobgoblins, but also over twenty green-skin slaves sent by Antonio (mostly deserters from other tribes), the camp has expanded tenfold, and life is becoming more prosperous.
All of this was inseparable from the control of the Khyprian road, and even more so from Antonio's Golden Rose Merchant Guild.
After annihilating the cloth Brotherhood last year, Antonio, as agreed, handed over the southern section of the Khyprian road to the Blackrock Clan for "Actual management"—the greenskins didn't need to show themselves, only to set up a hidden checkpoint near the forest; when merchant caravans passed, people from the Golden Rose Merchant Guild would collect the "management fee" on their behalf, and then distribute it to the tribe proportionally.
Over the past year, more and more merchant caravans have passed through, and the tribe has earned a full five thousand gold coins just from "management fees."
More importantly, Antonio's merchant guild continuously supplied the tribe with materials: thick canvas fabric, enough to make two vests for every green-skin; pig iron transported from the dwarf Federation's Gezhik, which filled the warehouses of Stonewatch, keeping the forges running non-stop; and various tools, food , and even green-skin slaves—whatever the tribe needed, Antonio always found a way to deliver.
But Kurzadh knew very well that constantly taking would eventually lead to problems.
Antonio helped them because the Blackrock Clan could help him guard the Khyprian road; once the tribe lost its value, or if something happened to Antonio's merchant guild, this "Cooperation" could break down at any time.
Therefore, he had been pondering how to develop a trade product belonging to the Blackrock Clan that could both facilitate equal trade with the Golden Rose Merchant Guild and establish a stable source of income for the tribe, laying the foundation for long-term development.
He had considered selling mushrooms—the tribe's giant green mushrooms had high yields and were nutritious, but mushrooms were difficult to preserve and transport, and humans and dwarves had low acceptance of green mushrooms; he also considered selling poisoned arrows—night hobgoblins' poisoned arrows were powerful, but these were weapons, and Antonio dared not purchase them in large quantities for fear of arousing the suspicion of the Katushir city lord.
It wasn't until a few days ago, while drinking the mushroom wine sent from the brewery, that he suddenly had a flash of inspiration—wasn't green-skin mushroom wine the best trade product?
The green-skin mushroom wine is made from the tribe's unique giant green mushrooms, along with honey from the swamp and wild fruits from the forest, brewed through a special fermentation process; it has a high alcohol content, a mellow taste, and a unique mushroom aroma.
More importantly, this kind of mushroom only grows in the green-skin mushroom field, and the fermentation process is also unique to the greenskins; other races simply cannot imitate it, so there's no need to worry about business being stolen.
And the one in charge of brewing was Zaggur, the Bartender of the green mushroom tavern.
Zaggur was a hobgoblin, even shorter than an ordinary hobgoblin, with a waist as thin as a chopstick, which earned him his nickname.
He had no combat power, but he was born with a talent for brewing—when the tribe's brewery was first built last year, he was just a goblin helping to move things, but through his own experimentation, he improved the mushroom wine's fermentation process, making the wine taste more than twice as good; now he has become the head of the tribe's brewery, and all the wine in the green mushroom tavern is brewed by him personally.
"Furball, let's go to the tavern." Kurzadh stroked the Furball in his arms and turned to walk towards the green mushroom tavern in the center of the camp.
Furball 'woo-wooed' twice, tightly hugging Kurzadh's neck with its paws, hanging on him like a small pendant.
The green mushroom tavern was the liveliest place in the tribe, and it was also built specifically by Kurzadh—the tavern walls were made of stone bricks, the roof was covered with the largest mushroom skins, and a sign made of green mushrooms hung at the entrance, written by Kurzadh himself.
As soon as they reached the entrance, the sounds of greenskins singing and laughing came from inside—Orc Boyz held large bowls, singing the green-skin war song in unison, their voices rough and bold; night hobgoblins sat in a corner, drinking mushroom wine and chatting about their last swamp reconnaissance mission; hobgoblins gathered around a table, gambling with dice using their teeth, and whoever lost had to drink a bowl of wine, making the scene as lively as a festival.
Even more noticeable was that every green-skin wore a black vest—this was ordered by Kurzadh to be uniformly distributed last month, made from the canvas fabric sent by Antonio, with the Blackrock Clan's emblem (a black bone pattern) printed on the back.
The uniform clothing not only made the tribe look neater but also inexplicably enhanced the cohesion of the greenskins; many greenskins even couldn't bear to take them off, sleeping in them.
Kurzadh pushed open the door and entered the tavern; the greenskins immediately noticed him, and the singing and laughter instantly stopped as they all stood up and bowed to him, saying, "Hello, boss!"
"Sit down! All of you, sit down!" Kurzadh waved his hand and walked to the bar, where Zaggur was busy pouring wine for an Orc Boyz; seeing Kurzadh enter, he quickly put down the wine jug and respectfully said, "Boss, you're here! How much do you want? I'll pour you the strongest!"
"Two big bowls." Kurzadh smiled and sat at the bar with Furball in his arms.
Zaggur immediately picked up two wooden bowls larger than a human head and scooped out amber-colored mushroom wine from the barrel; as soon as the wine was poured, a unique aroma diffused, and Furball sniffed it with its nose, letting out two 'woo-woo' sounds, seemingly wanting a taste as well.
"This wine, it's getting better and better lately." Kurzadh picked up the wooden bowl and took a sip; the mellow liquid slid down his throat, carrying a hint of spiciness and a faint mushroom aroma, tasting much better than last year's.
Zaggur scratched his head, a proud smile on his face: "I've added some wild honey from the swamp recently and extended the fermentation time, so it tastes sweeter and stronger! The last time Mr. Antonio's people came, they got drunk after one bowl and asked me if I could get more, saying they wanted to take it back for the merchant guild members to try."
"Oh?" Kurzadh's eyes lit up, "Did he really say that?"
"Really!" Zaggur nodded vigorously, "That person also said that if this wine could be brewed in bulk, they would be willing to buy it at a price of one gold coin per barrel!"
Kurzadh calculated in his mind—one barrel of mushroom wine weighed fifty pound; at one gold coin per barrel, the tribe could brew twenty barrels a day, which meant twenty gold coins a day, or six hundred gold coins a month, even more stable than the "management fee"! And this was just the starting price; if the wine gained fame, the price could still rise.
"Zaggur, starting tomorrow, expand the scale of the brewery." Kurzadh put down the wooden bowl, his tone serious, "Find ten more hobgoblins to help you, separate the mushroom picking, cleaning, and fermentation processes, ensuring that thirty barrels of wine can be brewed every day, and the quality must not decrease."
"I understand!" Zaggur excitedly agreed, his eyes full of drive—if the brewery could expand, he would be the "Great Bartender," and he would have more face in the tribe in the future.
Looking at Zaggur's busy figure, Kurzadh thought of another matter—standardized weapons.
Over the past year, although the tribe's weapons were much better than before, they were still varied: the Orc Boyz' iron axes, some forged in Stonewatch, some plundered; the night hobgoblins' short bows, some with hemp strings, some with animal sinews; the hobgoblins' iron spears, with inconsistent lengths.
This not only made them look untidy but also made repairs difficult when weapons broke in battle, greatly affecting combat effectiveness.
He planned to have Stonewatch specially forge standardized weapons: Orc Boyz would use half-person-high crude iron or cleaver axes, with blades uniformly ten inches wide and handles three feet long; night hobgoblins would use standardized short bows, with oak bow arms and Arachnari Giant Spider silk strings (now that they had Arachnari Giant Spiders, they wouldn't have to worry about spider silk anymore); hobgoblins would use standardized iron spears, with three-inch spearheads and five-foot handles.
This would not only enhance the cohesion of the army but also make repairs convenient and reduce forging costs.
He just didn't know if the Orc Boyz' craftsmanship could achieve this.
In addition, he also had to consider training the Arachnari Giant Spider to quickly grow into a mount for the night hobgoblins; arranging for Keziaz to scout the lizardman tribe again to ascertain their specific strength; and finding more food for Furball to help it grow quickly and become the tribe's charging beast… Kurzadh picked up the wooden bowl and took another sip of mushroom wine, looking at the lively scene in the tavern—the greenskins drank wine, sang songs, their faces full of happy smiles.
He knew that the tribe still had a long way to go and many things to do, but as long as these greenskins followed him, and as long as the tribe could continue to develop, one day, the Blackrock Clan would become the most powerful force in the Forest of Gloom.
"Boss, I toast you a bowl!" An Orc Boyz held a wine bowl and walked up to Kurzadh, saying loudly. Other greenskins also gathered around, raising their wine bowls and shouting in unison: "To the boss! WAAAGH!"
Kurzadh smiled and raised his bowl, clinking it against the greenskins' bowls; wine splashed out, landing on Furball's fur.
Furball 'woo-wooed' twice, stuck out its tongue, and licked the wine off its face, immediately narrowing its eyes, looking a bit dizzy, which made the greenskins laugh heartily.
The singing in the tavern started again, louder and bolder than before.
Amber-colored mushroom wine swirled in the bowls, green figures moved through the tavern, and Furball, nestled in Kurzadh's arms, gradually fell asleep.