The tribe was in the middle of a roaring party.
No goblin could say that they had ever eaten dragon meat. No shopping bag could boast that it had ever been stretched over a whole dragon before.
Which was something the shopping bag producers were going to use for advertising for the next 100 years.
But that was beside the point.
Nikola was there, helping with the butchering, wondering if he was going to get something out of it all.
He had tried to keep the dragon's gold, only to be taxed mercilessly by Goglina.
He had tried to get himself a bone or a scale, just as a fond memory, only to be taxed mercilessly by Grog.
He was staying there, by the goblin bone throne, where Grog was eating the already boiled dragon heart. Goglina was stirring a pot to the side.
Nikola had rights too, darn it!
He felt overworked, underpaid, and not to mention, not appreciated at all!
"I killed a dragon for you," Nikola said, as he looked Grog in the eyes. "And you won't even give me a couple of scales, so I can make myself armor?"
Grog swallowed his mouthful, brushing his pants to get some of the juices off it.
"You are not thinking in perspective, Niki," the goblin chief told him, as he took another bite out of the heart. "Tell me, what do you think about my throne?"
It was a strange question to ask someone who was one false eye movement away from giving his notice, but the goblin chief either didn't care, or was being obvious.
Nikola figured that the man was trying to teach him something, but he had no idea what.
"It is a status symbol?" Nikola asked, as he looked at his own meal. A lovely steak, grilled over coals that were steeped in goblin mana.
It must be tasty, Nikola figured out.
But if he ate it, would he sell his soul to the goblins? Admit that he had nothing against being exploited?
Forced to lie that their rights were more important to him than his own?
"And do you know how many goblins try to challenge me because of it?" Grog continued.
"There was this one youngster last week," Goglina piped in, as she placed some finely cut parsley in the stew she was making.
Nikola's stomach growled.
Maybe the goblins were not the gourmet chefs that elves were, but that didn't mean that they couldn't cook.
In fact, they were masters at it.
"I had to spank him in front of the whole tribe," Grog said, as he shook his head. "I just didn't want to throw his life away. That one will haunt me until the end of my days; I tell you what!"
"Then there was this other chieftain last week!" Goglina said, as she carefully stirred her stew. Nikola could see that the dragon meat on the bone was so well-boiled that it was falling off.
His stomach grumbled again.
"Yes! Him I had to kill. You know, to keep the tribe from becoming extinct," Grog sighed, as he ate the last of the heart. "But you don't really need to know all of that. What you need to know, is, that I am doing this for your own good!"
Nikola nodded. He finally took his meat and began to eat.
"Because," the brunette said, as he tried to think of a logical follow-up to all of these actions. "If I have something as fancy as dragon scale armor, will I become a target?"
"And waste the scales. No offense, but you are no fighter," Grog told him, who should know such things.
Considering he had seen Nikola attempting to fight his way out of an extended shopping bag before his oxygen ran out.
Something Goglina had helped him with. Right before she spanked the young goblins who had tried to eat the food delivery man.
"We can carve the scales!" Grog told him, as he continued to eat his dragon heart. "And you can sell them! How about this? You may sell 5 of the scales, finally carved, the best pieces, for personal use! Do with the money what you wish!"
Nikola blinked.
If simple bones were worth their weight in gold, then he didn't dare to dream what dragon scales would fetch him!
"And because you did kill the dragon," Goglina continued, sharing a nod of understanding with Grog. "We will allow for you to take 10 gems from its hoard. The rest goes towards feeding us. And by us, I mean you as well."
Nikola bit into the meat with the gusto of a true goblin.
He already had a plan.
He didn't kid himself. That, which was happening between him and the goblins was actually him becoming a part of the tribe.
Which didn't necessarily mean slave labor, but it was exactly that. Not because the goblins didn't like him, but because their society was set up like that.
"And you may get 100 dragon sausages. You are too thin, Niki," Grog said, as he ate the last of the heart. "Meat!"
Goglina giggled like a schoolgirl at her husband's yell and handed him a grilled piece of meat.
"I don't think we have ever eaten so well," the alpha female said, as she took the stew pot off the fire. "We are eating so well, that the children are paying attention to their lessons, instead of searching for bugs to eat!"
"At this rate," Grog said, his mouth full of aromatic and juicy dragon grilled haunch. Or, at least, a very small part of the whole. "I think that we might even manage to get our farms up and running!"
"There is one small thing, Grog, Goglina," Nikola had not forgotten about the gnomes. They were even waiting outside the tribal grounds.
He had not wanted to take up their case before the goblins were happy and stuffed with meat to the gills.
"A tribe of gnome tax evaders would like to man your farms. They can be food foresters and mini farmers!"
Grog nodded.
"Approved. And if they don't do their job, we are selling them as garden ornaments in Big Capybara!"
Which was still better than ending up in stewpots and their bones being carved.
Nikola smiled.
Ready to deliver the good news.