The goblin lieutenant was openly dubious but managed to rally valiantly. “So we now have a zombie goat. This is… progress?”

“You’re going to carve it up,” I told her. “And put munitions in it.”

There was a moment of silence until Robber’s convulsive laughter filled it.

“Oh Gods,” he gasped. “Juniper’s got a fortress and our answer is suicide goats.”

“I’m not sure if that’s technically accurate,” I frowned. “I mean, they’re already dead.”

Another burst of laughter. “Undead suicide goats,” he corrected himself breathlessly. “Very sorry, Captain. For the record, I don’t care whether we lose this one anymore. This is already a victory in every way that matters.”