Over the next few days, or whatever passed for days in these strange caves, nothing noteworthy happened.

  Every day at noon, when the moss's glow was strongest, the workers fed the pups green goop from the gourds. Before 'night,' when the glow started dwindling, the female group which Richard dubbed the nurses came and fed a small portion of the pups. These were not chosen randomly but were the same goblins who got three rounds of goop. Richard was fine with the arrangement; the thought of being nursed by goblins disgusted him. The goop wasn't appetizing, but it was still better than the alternative.

  With plenty of time on his hands, Richard focused on understanding the new world he'd found himself in. First, he examined the strange, opaque message that appeared whenever he thought about the word 'status'.

  #########################

  General:

  Name: None

  Path: None

  Patron: None

  Stats:

  Body: 1

  Mind: 12

  Spirit: 6

  Exp: 0

  #########################

  He went over every single point, trying to interact with it in any way he could. Alas, nothing worked. He even tested related words—menu, settings, window—but no new screens appeared. His only small victory was learning he could at least control whether the window appeared when he thought of status. This was mainly done by focusing his intent on whether he wanted the status window to appear or not. With nothing else to do, he practiced thinking status—sometimes with the intent to summon the window, sometimes without. To his surprise, after a while it felt like discovering a new muscle, giving him control over the window.

  As the days passed, Richard noticed his energy dwindling, while his hours of sleep steadily increased. This culminated on the seventh day, when one of his neighbors—who, like him, only received a single portion—failed to move at feeding time. The worker goblin prodded and shook the pup for a while, then, getting no response, simply grabbed it by the arm and dragged it toward the cave's entrance. Moments later, the worker returned and carried on feeding the others as if nothing had happened.

  During that feeding session alone, Richard counted at least three such incidents. Not a large number, considering there were likely a couple of hundred pups in the cave.

  Normally, Richard's response after feeding was to sleep—but this time the sweet pull of slumber no longer tempted him. Sensing danger, he summoned every ounce of willpower to resist. His gaze drifted to the cave entrance where the presumably dead pups had been dragged, and his body began to shiver.

  Pulling himself together, Richard reviewed the events of the past week and came up with two theories. Maybe it was some kind of sudden death syndrome—Stone Age societies weren't known for low infant mortality, after all. Or maybe the goblins were starving. He hoped for the first, but some deep instinct told him it was the second.

  Still, the second theory had flaws. Why feed them at all if they were just going to let them die? It didn't make sense. Also, the fact that the starving pups made no fuss—even as they literally died—made him even more suspicious. Every animal wanted to live—so why weren't the starving pups fighting or at least crying for attention? Sure, they had limited options, but to go down without a struggle felt deeply wrong.

  As the adrenaline faded and sleepiness crept in, Richard glanced at his neighbor—sleeping soundly with a content smile—and suddenly it clicked.

  He remembered. He was sixteen, at a party in Frank's apartment. Bored by the crowd vying for his attention, he went looking for Frank so they could slip away somewhere more entertaining. Not finding him in the main room, Richard began checking the others one by one until he found Frank in the master bedroom, asleep beside a girl. At first, he looked away, not wanting to see something he'd regret—but to his surprise, both were fully clothed.

  "Typical Frank—so drunk he passed out before enjoying his prize," Richard smirked to himself and decided to wake the doofus. After shouting in his ear and shaking him, though, Richard was struck by an overwhelming sense of wrongness.

  The details after that were blurry. He remembered shouting, someone calling 911, and then—never seeing Frank again. What stayed with him was Frank's face: placid, calm, the face of someone at peace. And now, looking at his neighbor pup, Richard saw that same expression.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  At that moment, he realized—they were being drugged. It had to be the goop; it was the only thing they ate.

  That left him with a problem. On one hand, he wanted more food. On the other, it made him sleepy, docile—and who knew what else. Strangely, acceptance came easily. He didn't want to die—not again, not even as a goblin. He needed food.

  Richard was certain the food distribution was tied to the stone beads given out by the feathered goblins. That meant he needed a plan to get more. The obvious choice was to steal them from the other pups.

  Though tired and weak, Richard found his coordination had improved greatly over his seven days in this strange world. With new determination and a rough plan in mind, he pushed aside the hide blanket and got to work.

  The first step was choosing a target. He didn't feel comfortable stealing from pups with only two beads, but those with three were fair game. Even in his previous life, he'd understood that wealth wasn't built by only playing fair.

  Looking around, Richard spotted the nearest three-beaded goblin not far to his left. He clearly remembered how every evening that one was taken to the nurses to be fed. Slowly, he dropped to all fours and crawled into the space between the rows, inching step by step toward his goal. It was strenuous, but straightforward.

  His target lay on the usual bedding of hay, wrapped in a hide blanket; the pup itself was significantly larger than its neighbors. The real challenge would be removing the beads—taking one for himself—then slipping the rest back without being noticed.

  Richard's eyes fixed on the coveted beads around its neck. Intimidated by the pup's size, he pressed on anyway. For a moment, he considered swapping his one-bead necklace for its three, but the risk was too high. The workers or nurses might notice how gaunt he looked, or spot the absurdity of a well-fed goblin wearing only one bead. And even now, he refused to suffer the disgrace of being nursed by a goblin.

  He would remove one bead, then add it to his own necklace. With that plan in mind, Richard positioned himself by the goblin's head and reached for the necklace. Working from two opposite points, he slowly tried to shimmy it upward. But the pup's thick neck and large head left little room to maneuver. Worse, each time he freed part of the necklace, the goblin rolled its head, resetting all his progress. After five failed attempts, Richard realized he needed a new plan.

  Looking at his own necklace, he got the idea that instead of removing it the conventional way, he could just cut the string and tie it back together afterward.

  First, he tried chewing through the string—starting with his own necklace—but to his disappointment, it was strangely resistant. Not ready to give up, he searched for a sharp stone. The cave was full of them, and soon he found one the size of his thumb with a jagged edge. Testing it on his necklace, he found luck was finally on his side; after a few minutes of scraping, the strands began to fray. Five minutes later, he'd cut it clean through. Pumping his fist in triumph, Richard carefully set it aside.

  Clutching his new favorite stone, Richard wedged it between the larger goblin's neck and necklace, working it up and down. Giddy with anticipation, he was too slow to notice the pup stirring. With a snarl, the larger goblin shoved his hand away and sat up. Panic shot through Richard—he scrambled back, crawling as fast as his short arms and stubby legs would carry him.

  With some distance between them, Richard's thoughts cleared. He knew he didn't stand a chance against the larger pup—better to flee than risk a real beating. Deciding to try again with another target, he glanced back at his necklace lying near the goblin. Unfortunately, the larger pup had noticed it too.

  Intrigued, the larger pup picked up the necklace and sniffed it. Then, to Richard's horror, it slipped the bead off the string, tossed the cord aside, and swallowed the bead with an audible gulp.

  Rage, fear, and desperation battled in Richard's mind as he clenched the sharp stone in his hand and glared at the larger pup.

  But once again, fear won. The last hour's exertion, piled atop his starvation, had drained what little strength he had left. Barely managing to crawl back to his spot, Richard closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.