Chapter Thirteen: Raiders From the Ridge in Holler Goblins

  • Aug. 12, 2025, 12:44 p.m.
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The day Pa stepped away, the holler shifted.

He didn’t make a fuss about it. Just called Ma and Uncle Kinxy aside, voice low and steady.

“Gotta handle some business outside the ridge for a spell. I’ll be checkin’ in, but I need the two of you to steer things while I’m gone.”

He didn’t say for how long, and Ma didn’t ask. She could see it in his eyes. Whatever this was, it mattered. The kind of thing that pulled a man from the ridge but never from the clan.

He looked to both of them, Ma with quiet trust, Uncle Kinxy with a spark in his eye like he’d just been handed a crown and a chainsaw.

“I got it,” Kinxy grinned, already pacing like he could see the war map three steps ahead.




“Together,” Pa said, glancing at Ma. “You both got it.”

But Pa hadn’t made it past the edge of the woods before Kinxy had the reins clutched tight. And he wasn’t sharing.

*************************


He came in under a different name.

Just another recruit. Just another set of eyes and hands. C-Note blended in clean. Didn’t strut, didn’t brag, didn’t act like someone who’d been on a thousand scrolls. He played it quiet. Familiar.

Then one morning, before the holler woke, Ma found herself at the firepit with him alone.

That’s when he told her.

Who he was. Where he came from. That he ran with a crew that floated between clans, bringing capital gold, seasoned troops, and a promise of fast growth.

“We like helpin’ clans with potential,” he said. “Not here to take over. Just pass through and leave y’all stronger than we found ya.”

He said it easy. Like it was a gift, not a deal.

And Ma… she listened. Because the truth was, they could use the help. The holler was growin’, but it wasn’t fast. Resources were tight. Walls were slow. And C-Note was offerin’ a shortcut dressed as generosity.

She wanted to believe it.

But somewhere in her gut, she knew: all gifts come with teeth.


The first war was fine. Mostly.

Their own goblins were in. The scroll had names Ma recognized. Uncle Kinxy barked orders, reassigned targets, and pushed for a fast close.

They won. But not everyone got to hit. Some logged in late and found their assignments gone. Quiet grumbles. Shrugged excuses.

Then came the second war.

And with it, the real shift.

Uncle Kinxy asked the raiders to bring more fighters. And they did. Friends from other clans and from outside the holler. Folks Ma had never seen around the ridge.

The war scroll ballooned. Familiar names thinned out. Goblins who’d signed up woke to find their targets already wrecked, or that they weren’t placed at all.

Uncle Kinxy acted like it was normal. Efficient. Tactical.

Ma watched it happen. Silent. Uneasy. Not wanting to make waves. She was a female in a sea of experienced males and wasn’t sure of her voice in the midst of it, but the pit in her stomach told her this was a takeover.


Pa had signed up for that war. Said he would be by and planned to hit. Ma saw his name on the scroll, same as Kinxy did.

But the day of the war, he hadn’t shown yet as it was still early.

“Take Pa’s target, Ma,” Kinxy said. “Let’s finish this.”

“No. That’s his.”

“He ain’t here.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s his.”

“We can finish this now. Just hit it.” Kinxy insisted.

Ma was resolute. “I’m not taking Pa’s target, Kinxy. No.”

Kinxy didn’t argue. He just changed the scroll and scribbled Ma’s name in place of Pa’s now marked off name.

“It’s yours now.” he told her, triumphantly.

Ma walked off. Didn’t respond. Hoped Pa would return in time. This wasn’t  how they did things and she did not like being put in this position. She also didn’t want conflict in front of the visitors.

But Kinxy followed her. Not figuratively. Not politely. He followed her. Everywhere she went.

“Ma.”

“Ma.”

“Maaaa!”

She couldn’t take a breath without him behind her.




“Hit the base, Ma.”

“It’s ready. Just do it.”

“MA!”

Finally, she spun around.

“Fine. But if Pa’s mad, that’s on you.”

She launched the attack, sick with nerves, and landed a three star.

The raiders roared and cheered. They’d been spectatin’ the whole time.

And still, the first thing she did was tell Pa the moment he showed up:

“I hit your target. Kinxy made me. If you’re mad, be mad at him.”

Pa just laughed.

“I’m proud of ya,” he said. “you handled that well.”

It helped. A little.

But the holler was changin’. Fast.

Firepit seats once filled with goblin kin now belonged to strangers. Scrolls once written in goblin hands now carried voices Ma didn’t know. Kinxy was givin’ access to the strangers that strangers shouldn’t have.

Kinxy had his war crew, and they moved fast, loud, and hard. The goblins started fallin’ back. Not all at once. Not with protest. Just… quietly.

They stopped signin’ up. Stopped speakin’ and remained scarce, feeling out of place in their own home.

And the stumps stayed full.

Just not with kin.


Side Blurb: Down by the Orchard

Nickie sat on a barrel, arms crossed.

“I’m thinkin’ about leavin’,” she whispered.

Ellie Mae didn’t answer right away. Just tossed a rock, watched it skip.




“Feels like this clan don’t belong to us anymore.”

“It’s temporary,” Ellie said finally. “Just be patient. It will be over soon and they’ll leave.”


And Ma?

She didn’t speak on it. Not yet.

She watched. She kept scrolls tidy. She made her rounds. And she let Kinxy run the show.

But every night, when the fire burned low and the laughter came from mouths not born in the holler, she’d sip her nightly sleepy tea and whisper to herself:

“Just a little longer. Another week or two. They’ll be gone. And we’ll get back to normal.”

She had to believe that.

Because the only other option… was war. Within the clan.


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