Fisha Inuit

Aside from their primitive ironworking skills, this tribe of kobolds seemed to lack any other notable technology. They didn't even wear clothes, making them appear more primitive than Leo had imagined. Yet, they possessed numerous well-woven wicker baskets and finely crafted linen bags, far surpassing the handiwork of the village women from Leo's own settlement.

Leo couldn't believe these were made by the kobolds themselves.

The Husky Kobold stood there with his mouth open, staring dumbly at Leo, saying nothing.

Leo's suspicions grew. This was why he didn't want to let the kobold tribe go. Ideally, he would have preferred to eradicate this nearby threat to Riverbend Camp. But a hundred kobolds, fighting to the death, were as formidable as a hundred organized wolves. It wouldn't be an easy battle, and many of his militia would certainly perish. 

Moreover, half of his fifty men weren't even as strong as the kobolds; they were there more for show than for combat. Driving the kobolds away wouldn't guarantee they'd leave quietly. They might band together with other nearby tribes and launch a retaliatory attack, or become guerrilla fighters, ambushing isolated villagers and patrols.

The best strategy, therefore, was one of conciliation—a tactic as old as China itself: winning hearts through relatively gentle economic and political means.

As it turned out, this recent "submission" quickly revealed a kobold secret. Under Leo's increasingly stern gaze, the Husky Kobold finally muttered a word Leo understood: "Wildlings…"

Leo's expression became deadly serious. Wildlings were the opposite of vassals. Vassals paid taxes and served their lords in exchange for protection, while wildlings refused to pay taxes or serve and received no protection in return. If vassals were the tamed sheep of the nobles, wildlings were the wolves of the wild. More commonly, they were known as bandits and raiders.

Centuries ago, the Northmen, who were still in a clan society, joined the powerful Atlantis Empire. The High King of the North, the Great Chieftain of the clans, and the bloodline of Tyr the War God became the Grand Duke of the North. Many clan chiefs became imperial counts, and village leaders with arms became knights. However, numerous lesser chiefs and village heads refused to submit to the empire's rule or relinquish their power, leading to countless "rebellions."

These rebels were the ancestors of the wildlings, who hid in the deep forests, surviving by fishing and hunting, and raiding noble lands. Over the centuries, lacking the means to sustain prolonged warfare, the wildlings faded into obscurity, and the term became synonymous with bandits and raiders. The Northmen, already labeled as barbarians due to their backward culture and long alliance with the beastfolk, now saw the wildlings as barbarians among barbarians.

To Leo, wildlings were far from benign, even though he himself could be considered one of them. Traditional wildlings, bandits, or raiders were all bad news for a fledgling settlement like Riverbend Camp. He also understood why the Husky Kobold spoke the human language and was willing to communicate—they had dealt with humans before. This kobold was much smarter than the previous chief.

Seeing Leo's grave expression, the Husky Kobold began to explain: "Wildlings… good… trade… we peaceful tribe!"

"Peaceful tribe?" Leo questioned, "How peaceful?"

"Peaceful. Iron trade. Baskets and bags. Food repair," the kobold stammered in broken Imperial.

"Where are they? How many?" Leo pressed.

After a long silence, the Husky Kobold pointed to the distant waterfall. "Lake. Good. Peaceful tribe."

Back at the camp, Leo placed the kobolds in a secluded area guarded by twenty militiamen. Then he took the Husky Kobold to meet Ulyan and the camp leaders for a meeting.

"What? A basket for a basketful of iron ore?"

"A linen bag for a bagful of iron ingots?"

"They call that fair?"

"Cruel! Deceitful! Heartless! I feel sorry for the kobolds!"

Listening to the Husky Kobold's broken narrative and the information Leo had gathered, the camp leaders were outraged. Ulyan, equally furious, barked at the Husky Kobold, "Those vile merchants! Liars! Never trade with them again! Whatever they offer, we'll double it!"

The surrounding leaders nodded in agreement, showing their disdain. 

The Husky Kobold, however, grew wary, stepping back. "Woof! Humans deceitful. We leave."

Leo quickly intervened, "Wait, you name a price first. We can negotiate."

The Husky Kobold, prepared for this, clearly stated in Imperial, "Trade, wildlings, same. Food, one bag, ore, five bags. You stay out of mountains. Half the oak forest for us."

"Deal!" Ulyan slapped the table, extending a hand to the kobold. "One bag of food for five bags of iron ore. Half the western oak forest for you. No backing out!"

The Husky Kobold scrutinized Ulyan and then looked at Leo.

Leo immediately confirmed, "Deal. No backing out."

The Husky Kobold glanced at the mace on Leo's belt, growling, "No backing out. We peaceful tribe."

With this unexpected boon, the camp leaders were in high spirits. One leader, eyeing the Husky Kobold, suddenly remarked, "You're female, aren't you? Are there no males left in your tribe?"

"I am the chief, daughter of the chieftain, a princess," she replied.

Another leader laughed, pointing at Leo, "Why not form an alliance through marriage? That would ensure peace!"

The group burst into laughter. "Leo, marry a kobold princess. You'd have a story to tell for a lifetime!"

"Shut up, all of you! Show some respect!" Ulyan roared before Leo could retort. "This is an ally and future neighbor! Understood?"

"Yes, sir…" Ulyan's military authority silenced the room, even intimidating Leo. The leaders quickly sobered up, lowering their heads.

The Husky Kobold, also taken aback, almost exited the tent but wagged her tail slightly. "Neighbors!"

Outside the tent, Leo looked at the Husky Kobold, smiling. "My name is Leo. What's yours?"

"Fisha. Fisha Inuit."

"Are you the new chief of your tribe? What happened to the previous one?" Leo asked, suddenly pausing.

"Dead. Bitten to death," Fisha Inuit said, staring at Leo with clear, fluent Imperial.