Vektor and Urog were sitting in a corner of a burned out building that was their meeting area. The Gang had grown strong in this time, and the area was augmented with greenery, wooden fillings and coverings that didn’t completely soak them during the heavy rains. They were passing urya between them, as they often did before things got complicated with the Great Northern Army and the United Tribes of Der’al (he really hated using Earther terms).
Vektor had just come home from his journeys to Unen and reported all to Urog. The Mag Buskt and his state of mind were of concern to Urog, but Vektor had handled the situation as well as could be expected. They then did the usual round-up of resources. These conversations used to only take a few moments, but these days it would take hours. As they finished taking stock of everything, calling in tribal members to confirm counts and provide status reports, Vektor and Urog took a seat on two stone banks in the room. Vektor then asked the question that had been bothering him during the entire process, “Urog, this is a long way from having just enough supplies to carry on our backs if a rival gang comes for a fight. What plans do we have to protect it all?”
Urog inhaled deeply as he smoked the urya, and smoothly exhaled as he passed it to Vektor. “I was thinking about that the other day, Vektor. Do you remember what Auf Ur’sa said to Hikiti and Tusk? There is enough for all if we gather what we need and only what we need.” Vektor chortled, “You’re too soft on Hikiti…” Urog laughed at his friend, “I may be, but he has a point. We have more than enough of what we need, except perhaps maklal. And here we are, counting rhug earned from battle and trade. So I ask you, Vektor, what is the most important thing we have?”
Vektor studied Urog closely before answering. He knew Urog enough to know it was a loaded question. Every Brezan would say og, a weapon, and/or tla. But these were all things their gang had in abundance. Most of the tribals wielded tla’or, making Brez’s most scarce resource almost an afterthought. They also had more weapons than what they knew what to do with…especially since they were used to grabbing rocks and using them as stone axes. The rooms filled with hob’tor spears and axes were unheard of in Brez. Being able to field an army with them was almost unheard of. Vektor then thought immediately to what a Karovan would think… the dreamers and their cultural heritage. They’d say their mounts, without which they would be unable to travel the desert… or perhaps their hides, out of which tents were made for homes. Vektor stroked his fur across his chin. Tla’loc’al would probably go on and on about some mundane detail of olgog culture that was most important, and the Unenese cared about their boats and weapons. After a few moments, Vektor had no idea where Urog was going with it, and so he answered honestly.
“Our most important resource are the hob’tor mines. We’re the only ones who have it… they keep us alive, they are useful weapons, and are probably the only thing we can’t replace or trade for… not including the sylvan boons. Without this hob, many battles we have fought would have been lost.”
Urog nodded. Vektor had a good point. Brutally practical in his assessment, in many battles they had fought the hob’tor was the difference between victory and defeat. A few weeks ago, Urog would likely have agreed with Vektor. But then he remembered the battle that Vektor had fought against the Mag Buskt. Hob’tor was useless in that battle. You can’t say your most important resource is something that isn’t always useful, thought Urog. He pondered the thought, and then responded.
“Vektor, your logic is sound and the hob’tor has served us well. But I do not agree that it is our most important resource. It is too material. Vektor, what is it that Brez lacks most?” Vektor hated Urog when he got preachy. His patience waning, he said, “Historically, tla.” Urog shook his head, “Wrong! Knowledge.” Vektor did a double take. “What?!”
Urog smiled. “Tla is only a problem when you lack the means to procure it. We can conjure it from thin air, we have a resevoir to keep it in. But not everybody knows how to do that. Heck, we don’t even know how to get the tla from the pit in the ground to the rest of the city. We lack knowledge. Only recently have we learned to farm. We have spent years eating vermin that run through the streets and now we don’t have to. We can grow lal when we need it, conjure ka to heat ourselves, frozen tla to cool ourselves, and clean der to breathe if we need it. Tusk has taught us how to make weapons. We can summon creatures to do our bidding. Even Dreggs, the most useless gang member ever, has learned to heal others by touch. We have learned to fight on stalkers as one strong unit. We have learned to create items embued with Leyas that can help us always.” Vektor nodded his head, wondering what Urog’s final point would be.
“Vektor, if we were to lose every item we owned, would we be able to survive?” Vektor thought about it for a second, “yes.” Urog nodded, “Why?” Vektor responded, shaking his head knowing he was just outthought by his Goblin King. “Because with few exceptions, we’d be able to recreate everything we have. The tla can be filled in another pit dug out with lalhob’or, artificed with tla’or, and protected by us all. We can use lal we summon to make new weapons, and our Leyas knowledge is stronger than ever.” Vektor sighed, hating to admit the rest, “We could even recreate our own farms… and now that we have allies throughout the lands, we wouldn’t even have to stay in Brez if we needed to move.”
Urog smiled and nodded, knowing he outwitted the usually sharp Vektor. “But the only thing we cannot replace, Vektor, is our olgog. If we lost our lowest gang members, we’d have no songs to protect us. It would strain our ability to create tla to survive. If Tusk were lost, we’d lose a teacher. If the Ur Rhug were all killed, we’d lose so much of our mobility in battle. If you were gone, I’d be just a dreamer with no sense of practicality. If Shirley …” Both olgog smiled, each having what would likely be similarly amusing, if not completely different, answers; they laughed, leaving the thoughts unsaid. “My point is that our most precious resource is what we’ve all learned. Every olgog and pup in this Gang is what is most important to its survival. If we lost too many of our gog, we’d lack to the og to defend ourselves, make new weapons, feed ourselves, and survive. Things can be replaced… or stolen again. A lost olgog cannot.” Vektor thought back to a few months ago… when an Ur Rhug was consumed by a nightmare and could not be revived… and for all those lost in the battles of the Great 'Uf. Those losses were worse than any item that was won or lost. Urog was right, and they both knew it.
Vektor responded, “Together we must stand, my Goblin King Urog. May we leave no one behind.”
Urog smiled as he remembered the lessons he learned from Auf Yyanyi. “When the the militiagog of Kolgol came, the Auf responded by hiding. It was a brutally effective tactic. Of course, we could not afford to look weak or risk losing our rhug, so we fought… and won. But I never forgot what he said. And if the militiagog came today, I believe that if we wanted to, we could afford it.” As Urog took a last puff of the urya, he grinned slyly. “Being able to make that choice, Vektor, is the definition of power. Not og, but power. This gang, and all our olgog… they are the true source of my power. Without them, and I’m just a gog with great og and a mighty large penis.”
As if on cue, Shirley walked in to the room. Vektor and Urog break out into uproarious laughter. Shirley smiles, not caring what caused such a stir, as she reminded them both that there was work to be done.
