Three days later, as sun filtered through the canopy of branches and leaves hanging overhead, casting soft sunlight over the goblin camp and its surroundings, Lance stood at the edge of a clearing, arms crossed, surveying the scene before him. A group of goblins was gathered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism as they stared at the wooden tools laid out on the ground in front of them.
"Let me get this straight," Rynne said, tapping one of the crude wooden plows with her spear. "You want us to dig holes in the ground and plant food there? Like… burying it?"
Lance sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Not exactly. You plant seeds in the soil. They grow into crops, and then you harvest the food. It's a sustainable way to eat without risking your lives hunting all the time." He explained.
Rikka, who had been leaning casually against a tree, snorted. "Sounds slow. We could just kill something and eat it now."
"Sure," Lance replied, meeting her gaze. "And what happens when there's nothing left to hunt because the forest's been overhunted? Or when the bigger predators come after you because you've stolen all their food?"
Rikka's smirk faltered, as she gave her answer in a tone that contrasted her expression, "we move away."
Lance appeared dumbfounded for a second or two, mostly because she had given quite a reasonable answer, but having to runaway every time didn't feel enticing, Lance was not ready to live a nomadic life.
Lance turned to Lia and the rest of the elders present, Mira, Rynne and Zarra, some of them watching the exchange with quiet interest. "Look, I'm not saying you should stop hunting. I'm saying we need more options. Farming isn't about replacing what you already do, it's adding to it. Giving the tribe a way to thrive instead of just survive."
Lia nodded thoughtfully, her yellow eyes glinting. "You have a point."
"Of course he does, he's our chief after all!" Mira said as she also gave a few reasons why it was a good idea, drawing some looks from her fellow elders.
Without further ado, they got to work. The first step was clearing a small patch of land near the camp.
Lance worked alongside the goblins, his hands blistering lightly as he showed them how to till the soil using makeshift plows and sharpened sticks, showing a man who didn't have much experience himself.
Mira and Lia proved to be his most enthusiastic helpers.
"This is… interesting," Mira said as she scattered seeds across the freshly tilled earth. "We usually forage for plants like these. I never thought about growing them ourselves."
"That's the beauty of it," Lance said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Once the crops are growing, you'll have food without having to search for it. It's less dangerous and more reliable."
Zarra grunted as she hammered a wooden stake into the ground. "Reliable, huh? We'll see about that."
…
A week later, the goblins' initial skepticism began to wane as the first signs of progress appeared. Tiny green shoots poked through the soil, and the tribe gathered around the fledgling crops with wide eyes.
"They're growing," Rikka muttered, her tone grudgingly impressed.
"Of course they are," Lance said, smirking. "I told you this would work."
Rikka rolled her eyes faintly but didn't argue.
With farming underway, Lance turned his attention to hunting. With most of the adult goblins around, it was a good time to address this.
"You're already great hunters," he told the goblins as they gathered for his next lesson. "But what if we could make it safer and more efficient? Instead of everyone running into the forest, we could organize into smaller teams with specific roles. Trackers, trappers, archers, you focus on what you're best at. You already have something similar, so we will improve on that."
Rynne crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "And what happens when we run into something bigger than us?"
"That's where strategy comes in," Lance said. He gestured toward the traps he'd helped design during the last attack. "We use the terrain to our advantage. Ambushes, decoys, baiting predators into traps. Hunting isn't just about strength, after all."
"There's truth to that." Rynne said thoughtfully.
"Right. With that in mind, I'll communicate the rest with you, Rynne, so you can enforce it on the others." Lance said.
"Very well."
The goblins took to the idea surprisingly well. Lance was expecting murmurs or some form of resistance, but everything turned out well.
Lance went ahead to share his ideas with Rynne and Zarra since they were both tasked with hunting prior to this, just on different days.
Under their leadership, the ones set for hunting, which was all the scouts and fighters, practiced working in teams while utilizing Lance's strategies. Since they were already doing similar actions it was very easy to adapt to and modify into their usual pattern.
The results were immediate. That very evening, the hunters returned with larger hauls, their faces alight with pride. The tribe's food stores began to grow, easing the ever-present fear of hunger. Though now, they had to regulate their hunts to be precisely accurate, so stored food would not go to waste.
Now, apart from meat, they had other options like vegetables and mushrooms. Even though it was only so much, it was still an improvement above only meat.
One evening, as the tribe gathered around the central fire, Lance stood with Lia and the elders, surveying the bustling camp.
"You've done well," Zarra said, her sharp features softened by an approving smile. "The tribe is stronger because of you."
Lance shifted a bit uncomfortably. "It's not just me. Everyone's played a part."
"Maybe," Lia said, her voice thoughtful. "But you brought the ideas."
Lance glanced at the goblins, who were laughing and sharing food. The camp felt different now, less tense and more unified. Lance felt a little relief seeing it that way. Surely, the role of a leader had started attaching itself to him, either that or it was the other way around, but there was progress…
As the days turned to weeks, Lance continued to introduce small but meaningful changes. He helped Kaeli build better tools for farming while throwing a few ideas at her to work with, and brainstormed new ways to fortify the camp with Rynne and Zarra. Though, with Rynne, it was always almost amidst their spars. Slowly but surely Lance felt himself getting better.
The goblins' trust in him grew with each passing day, their initial hostility replaced with respect and admiration.
One night, as Lance sat by the fire, Mira approached him with a bowl of freshly cooked mushroom stew he had thought them how to cook.
"For you," she said, handing it to him with a shy smile.
"Thanks," Lance said, taking the bowl.
"You know, I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done." Mira said, sitting beside him.
Lance glanced around the camp, watching as the goblins laughed and worked together. He felt a strange warmth in his chest… a sense of belonging he hadn't expected.
"What for? It's my duty as a leader after all," he said softly.
Both of them sat in relative silence while enjoying the soup. With the rarity of much ingredients, it was a subjective delicacy, one that Lance was still on track of getting used to.
"We might need to start thinking about trade and commerce very soon." Lance said softly, more to himself than anything else.