[@Aristocles]

Koglan stopped at the door.

Then opened it slowly and carefully.

Far more careful then he would be in many things.

And there on the floor, tiny mewling goblins. Babies. The Kits of the Goblin people. He gulped, and set the basket of food beside the door and the dancing chime atop it.

Oh how he felt awkward and out of place. Male Goblins did not usually make themselves a huge part in their offspring. But here these would likely have his blood in them. He picked his way past the kits as they rolled and slept on the mat. And made his way to Siwa, and there saw the oldest. The resemblance he could see clearly enough, the eldest Goblin is indeed his. The same sharp nose he can see, which would grow to the spear point that rests on his own face. The same slightly grey-green skin. He nodded, "Hafinjal, after my great grand sire. Before me, one of the greatest Smiths we ever had in this clan. Or so the stories say." He said proudly, "If you will still allow me too Siwa, I will train him when he is older. Pass down what I can. With any hope when my time draws nearer I can pass on my forge to him, and he can be our next smith."

Koglan carefully knelt, and looked down as one of the crawling Kits made it over and latched onto his leg hugging it softly. The old Goblin smith getting a soft look in his eyes as he looked down at the kit. He then looked back to Siwa, "You said there was something else?"