What are Friends for?

The orc tried his hand at the alchemy table but even though the plants said they were major components it seemed he was missing the minor components, namely jars and a liquid medium. He also had one hundred and thirty eight fame points, though most of his options were still inaccessible. He could level up his Liegelord ability even if it didn't immediately help him, but another option seemed a better benefit for the cost

Empower Minion
Suo, Slime
Choose Empowerment

Two new options appeared: combat and worker. He made note of the worker option but quickly pressed combat. The music that accompanied a level up blared and Suo bobbed a bit, but otherwise gave no outward hints at the changes his fifty points of fame had bought. Still it was at the very least another level up. Suo needed all the help it could get, especially considering that the slime couldn't equip items to improve its combat abilities the way he could.

Unsummoning the skeleton to regain his MP, and leaving the golems to finish their construction and watch over his dungeon, the orc and slime set out. He didn't stop to gather resources. He stayed off the well traveled paths and avoided fighting. This morning's goal was saving time. The quicker he arrived at his destination, the more quickly he could move on to the more important parts of his plan. Though this first part was going to be tricky no matter what. He was going to need all the help the silver tongue feat could give him.

Pointed sticks and stone knives filled his vision before he made it into the clearing. The little green monsters bared their teeth and claws and hissed their disapproval at his sudden appearance. Not quite the welcome he had imagined but thankfully they weren't attacking... yet. In truth they looked unsure what to do as the orc calmly stood before them holding a slime at bay.

"Stupids!" came a shriek from the clearing.

A blur of green and blue ran towards him.

"Stupids!" the blur repeated, "Why you attack Smart Orc?!"

A confused chorus of "Wha?" "Smart Orc?" and "Chief Fucker?" greeted him from the assembled goblins as the chiefess rushed forward and wrapped her tiny green arms around him protectively.

"Me miss you!"

"Suo" the slime burbled in warning at the stranger clinging to its master.

"Suo, behave yourself," the orc admonished his minion. "They are friends."

"Very good friends!" the chiefess agreed, her hands already wandering across his new clothes.

The hostility of the group gone, they quickly followed the chiefess and orc to the center of their small settlement. He learned the goblins were on edge because adventurers and other monsters had taken to stealing their huts. It took some clarification before the orc realized that they did in fact mean 'stealing' the huts. Apparently the piles of resources that made up their dwellings had not gone unnoticed and the village had become something of a farming location all its own. The goblins fought when they could but otherwise retreated and rebuilt. Even though they still had the friendly green status above them, and presumably him as well, between their unease, the new name in his status, and his strange new clothing; the goblins had erred on the side of caution. The orc still wondered if perhaps the goblins were color blind or simply too stupid to understand that green meant friendly.

He was thanked for his recent donation of food and he regaled them with his own tale of the events from the last few days. He didn't admit to finding the Claimant Crystal or building a dungeon exactly, but he did tell them he had killed an adventurer and had the shirt to prove it and it was clear he was stronger. Finally the question came, what was the reason he had returned?

"I need your assistance," the orc admitted. "Or rather I need 5 of your strongest fighters."

"Yes, we help," the chiefess easily agreed as she clung on to his arm even as they both sat near the center fire. "Who you fight?"

The orc took a breath. This was the tricky part.

"I'm going to the Ruins of B'dha."

The goblins were quiet. Some were quietly shaking their heads. The chiefess herself gave a sharp intake of breath. Besides Mount Imporne itself, the Ruins of B'dha were the biggest landmark in the area. They were old, possibly older than the great forest itself, and located deep in the wilderness. It wasn't a true dungeon. There was no actual boss monster present. But the ruins continuously spawned low class monsters and higher class monsters were attracted to try and claim the ruins for themselves. As impressive as the overgrown ruins were, because of their remoteness, lack of treasure, and unknown monster encounters; adventurers rarely visited them. It wasn't the ever present specter of adventurers that scared the goblins now, it was the knowledge of the hordes of monsters there as well as all those lingering between their clearing and the ruins. A clan of goblins might be able to beat some of the lowest level monsters, but they would be overwhelmed by the sheer number that could pour from the ruins. To go there with only five goblins and an orc was suicide.

The orc could already see the arguments and rejections forming. He opened his inventory and dumped the new scrap metal weapons he had created.

"Before you say anything, I want you to have these."

The three short swords and two spears were roughly crafted and ugly. They were uneven and rusted. But to the goblins who had only had crude stone weapons or wooden clubs, they were beautiful.

"Where find?" the chiefess asked as she examined one of the swords with a tinge of awe in her voice.

"I didn't 'find' them," he corrected her, "I made them. And with your help I want to make more!"

The chiefess looked hopeful for a moment as she considered the incredible gifts, but it was just for a moment. She sadly put down the metal sword and shook her head.

"Ruin bad," she looked at him with a mixture of pleading and regret. "No go..."

He wasn't sure if she was saying she wouldn't send the goblins or if he shouldn't go or both. He considered the small blue-greened haired gobliness. She was cute in her own way. He hoped to enjoy her again. But first he needed to succeed in this negotiation. That meant he had to give in a bit as well, as he had always planned.

"We won't go..." he conceded. As her face lit up he pressed on, "for now. First we hunt!"

The hopeful look on her face faded to confusion once again. These goblins had a hard time keeping up with him, but that was fine. He would be the brains as long as they supplied the manpower. Carefully he began to reveal his plan to her.

"Lend me your five strongest fighters and we will hunt what we can kill: beasts and weaker monsters. The experience will make us stronger, but so will the resources. I will take what we kill and use it to make better weapons and armor. The rest of your clan who isn't hunting will also help. They will gather resources, especially stone and ore, but I will also take any wood or plants. I will take it all and I will use it to make us strong! Only then, when we are ready, will we go to the ruins. We will find the weakest monsters and kill them all. Over and over. We will take all the experience we can. Until we are strong enough to kill the strong monsters."

"Good plan," the chiefess agreed after consideration. "You is smart but..."

She was afraid, he realized. He wrapped her up in his arms protectively and patiently waited for her to continue.

"You make fighters strong, but me not fighter." She spoke slowly and low enough that the rest of the tribe nearby couldn't hear her. "Fighters... some fighters... not like me Chief. Fighters get stronger, clan get stronger, good. But fighters get stronger, fighter become Chief... not me."

"I will not allow that to happen," he growled quietly to her. "I am a friend to your tribe because of you and no one else!"

They held each other for several moments as the chiefess choked back quiet tears. Finally curiosity got the better of him.

"What class are you then?"

"Enchantress," she whispered, a mischievous glint returning to her large yellow eyes. "Me Chief because clan like me best. Me make men happy... sometimes women happy... Clan stop fighting itself."

Well that was one way to keep a bunch of rowdy goblins in line. It also explained his initial encounter with the tribe. She was accustomed to using her charms to get her way. The memory had an effect on him that the chiefess quickly felt.

"Ooh!" she cooed as she wriggled her rabbit fur covered ass on his growing hardness.

The female goblin slid from his lap, taking his pants down with her as she went. She grabbed his exposed shaft with her small green hands, feeling the length and weight. Her wide mouth parted allowing her tongue to roll free and trace the veins on his cock.

"Me miss this!" she murmured almost to herself.

This wasn't what he had intended to do by coming here, but now that it was happening he didn't exactly want it to stop. Well he was asking the goblins for a favor. Best keep the chiefess in a good mood, he reasoned. The orc easily reached over her to cup her plump fur covered butt cheeks. He tried to **** his hand inside her pants but they were simply too tight, there was no room for his thick digits.

"Stand up" It was an order not a suggestion.

The female goblin begrudgingly tore herself away from his over sized appendage and got back on her feet in front of the seated orc.

"Now strip!"

She eagerly hooked her fingers into the tight waistband of her rabbit fur shorts and pealed them down. Her fresh green slit was already heavily leaking its honey. Still wearing the small fur booties, now with no bottoms, she started to unhook the vest holding in her impressive cleavage. However, the orc had other plans. She was taking too long. He scooped her small body up and spun her around, holding her freshly exposed and drooling cunt up in the air. The aroma was intoxicating. He buried his pug like face in her. His tongue, almost larger than the average goblin cock, went to work. He enveloped her sex as he licked up her tasty juices. He pushed aside her nether lips and buried his squirming tongue deep in her sex lapping up as much of her as he could. He stimulated the tiny nub of her clitoris to **** more of the fluid production. Her small, muscular legs clamped like a vice to his head as he worked. He couldn't see the look of rapture his efforts were producing on the chiefess but he did know his own cock was going unattended.

"Suck!" he commanded, momentarily twisting his head free of her thighs.

He soon felt the pleasant wetness on his cock. He wasn't sure if it was the upturned chiefess, another goblin, or his slime minion; and at the moment he didn't particularly care. It wasn't long until he brought the goblin to a squealing orgasm. Her juices squirted out, splashing his face and soaking his beard, but he didn't let up. Even as he brought her to a second climax and she begged him to let up, he didn't relent. He was finally quenching his thirst and he wanted every drop of her dew. The female goblin's wails and protests also meant she wasn't working his cock nearly as well as she could have. His own climax was still far away while she was climbing towards her third.

As her squirming increased yet again, he finally released her. Her green nether lips were puffy and engorged, covered in a sheen of his saliva and her juices. Pulling her back right side up he saw how the spotted green patterns on her upper body and head had flushed from the flow of blood. Her wide yellow eyes were unfocused. She was drooling slightly and still mumbling to herself.

The orc licked her drool off her chin and traced his tongue to one of her pointed ears.

"Beg me," he breathed into her ear as he nibbled the green lobe.

"Whu?" the poor thing was incoherent.

"Beg me... To take you," he repeated as he played with his cock head against her green belly.

"...please..." she whimpered.

Not near good enough.

"Please, what?" he coaxed her.

"...Please... take... me..."

He pulled her up eye level until her eyes finally regained focus and made her stare into his eyes. She bit her lip nervously as he moved his cock down and teased her slick opening. He was waiting for her to finish. They both knew it. But neither was sure she would.

"... sir..."

As soon as the whisper left her top lips, he fully penetrated her bottom lips. Her soaked pussy offered no resistance even to his overly large member and he sank until he felt the pressure of the opening to her womb.

"Chief Fucker!" the chorus erupted around them.

Part of the orc's mind wondered if all goblins were so oversexed to compensate numbers for their overall weakness or if this tribe in particular had been overly influenced by their chiefess. Most of him was too busy to care. There was no gentle caress or lover's whispering, this was pure animal rutting. He had engraved himself on her opening in their previous encounter, he didn't need to go slow until she had adjusted to him. Indeed he had probably ruined her for other goblin cocks, not that he really cared. He grabbed her soft wide hips with his larger hands and pumped her up and down for his pleasure.

His breathing was erratic, his arms burned with the exertion, but he continued to single-mindedly pummel the goblin's tight opening. He could see the outline of his cock pressing her stomach from the inside. Her beautiful breasts bounced and jiggled to his rhythm. She babbled incoherently as her limbs tried and failed to find any purchase. She was a mere plaything for the orc's pleasure. She was nothing but a living breathing sex sleeve and she loved it. The realization and acceptance brought out her delayed third orgasm. The new fluid served as further lubrication as he increased his tempo.

He finally erupted in his own release, again overfilling her tight tunnel. This time as the excess fluid trailed between them and fell to the ground, the slime quickly moved under them to catch it. It followed its master's orders and didn't touch him, but it did absorb the waterfall of cum dripping free. The orc was too busy to care as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

The orc recovered quickly enough but the chiefess took a while longer to return to her senses. Not that it really mattered, the negotiations had been more or less concluded by their time together. Five goblins would go with the orc while the rest of the clan would hunt for resources. The orc added the condition that at least one of the goblins in his group would be able to disassemble what they caught for its items. In the end three of them had the necessary skill. They were normal looking, bald goblins, with simple wood clubs, and not much for brains. These were the goblin scavengers. Another goblin was thinner, more dexterous, with wavy light green hair, and a simple leather sling for a weapon. He was a slightly rare goblin trickster who could make simple traps. The final member of the group was the female goblin with the half shaved, half short braided dark green hair with feathers in it. She was large for a goblin. She was harder and more muscular than the soft rounded chiefess, but not without a certain fit charm to herself. She carried a simple stone ax and called herself a barbarian.

That almost made the orc laugh. A goblin fancied itself a barbarian. Orcs were barbarians. Giant brutish thugs who swung trees as clubs. This was a three foot lump who looked like she couldn't lift a decent shrub. But he held himself back in order to not lose the goodwill he had so carefully created. The female barbarian was also the highest level of the goblins at a whopping level three. The barbarian, the trickster, and the hardiest looking of the three scavengers each got a sword while the remaining two scavengers took the spears. Though he made a point to tell the trickster to keep the sling. Ranged weapons were always useful.

He made the small group aware of his basic plans and once he had drilled them enough to be reasonably sure they weren't more a danger to themselves or him than to anything else they would find in the forest, they set out. The group used his tactics: hide from anything too strong, ambush whenever possible, and using the slime to soak damage. The orc was pleasantly surprised at how well the rag tag group followed his orders. The goblins could be rather insubordinate but they weren't stupid. The clever little creatures even had their own methods for creating snares and ambushing prey. As it neared nightfall they returned to the encampment with their trophies.