The tribe is ready.

The slow beating of drums echoed through the forest as you left the hut. The entire tribe formed a large circle near the center. Some goblins were beating on small drums, others were banging sticks to go along with the drumbeat. And all of them had white markings over their naked bodies.

Yes. Every single male and female goblin was baring their all.

Your goblin escort led you into the circle and towards the center. Reaching the middle, Scar stops and gestures for you to do the same. Glancing about, you notice the goblins not playing the instruments were passing around what looked like a bowl of something. Your observation stops when the beat suddenly picks up.

Murook enters from the other side of the circle, flanked by his personal attendants. The burly orc strides forward with a confident smirk on his face. He didn’t have his vest but you notice that he has the same markings you have with the only difference being they are red as oppose to your blue.

“Iamta tgefl le.” Scar mutters the same thing under his breath. You glance briefly at the goblin in confusion. What did that mean?

“Ah, so you’ve been marked as well, my friend.” The orc’s voice boomed your way as he stood across from you. His attendants bowed before leaving to join the circle. Scar stood there for a moment, growling albeit briefly before shortly bowing and walking away as well. You watch as he leaves before hearing Murook chuckle.

“Of all the goblins, that one still has some bite left. Killing the old leader didn’t stop him from holding a grudge.” He turns to look at you. “That scar over his eye was me reminding him of who’s in charge, among other things. But he is a persistent one till the end.”

So that’s why Scar doesn’t like him. The music then begins to speed up and get louder. A loud shout draws your attention to the left of you as the beat continues to quicken. Reta appears, followed by two other female goblins, and make their way towards you.

Her staff in hand, she now had additional markings on her skin, a small animal pelt draped over shoulders, two golden anklets on each foot. Her two assistants had the same white markings as the other goblins yet wooden masks covered their faces save their mouths. Both of them carried what looked like wooden cups in front of them. The three of them soon reached where you and Murook stood.

The music silenced faster than you could notice. The entire area was quiet except for cracking from the bonfire. Reta raised her arms and began speaking to the gathered tribe. You couldn’t understand what she was saying this time and could only watch her speak. She turns to the females that followed and gestures to the both of you. Nodding, the two walked in opposite directions until one stood in front of both of you. They then presented the wooden cups to you

“Moon is high. Duel will commence. Now drink.” The shaman tells you both. “Drink for Troika!”

"Troika! Troika! Troika!" The village chants

You look down at the cup being presented to you. Hesitantly, you reach out, take it and bring it to your face. Whatever the concoction is, it had a greenish-purple tint to it with bits of leaves floating on top and a weird smell to it. The cup felt warm in your hands and it looked like the brew was still simmering.

“What’s wrong, friend? Scared of a little refreshment.” You look up and Murrok all but swallow his in one gulp. Belching loudly, he tosses the cup for the goblin to catch it. “Go on and drink, it may put some hair on your chest.”

Glancing, you see Reta staring intently at you, her eyes glowing but you don’t know if it's from the fire or entirely her. Looking back at the cup, you close your eyes, steel your nerves and bring the cup to your lip. Tilting your head back, the thick potion slowly worked its way down your throat with each gulp. The slimy texture and foul taste made you gag but you manage to drink it all. Retching a bit and covering your mouth, you give the cup back while trying not to empty your stomach on the ground.

“Preparations ready. Fighters here. Now shall begin.”

“H-hold on a s-second.” You manage to speak out, your body warming as you **** back the potion. “I know me and him are supposed to duel but I st-still want to know what you have to do in this, Troika. What exactly do you do?”

“I admit, as much as I’d like to begin, even I’m curious. How is a victor declared? Beating one into submission?” Murook asks.

“…In sense.” Reta says cryptically, that mischievous smirk on her. She stamps the ground with her staff twice and begins chanting. Suddenly, you double over and cry in pain.