Goblins
Fuzzy echoes tickled the Goblins’ ears as snippets of conversation jumped from wall to wall, several small factions talking in whispers as they camped in a sizeable cave. It had been a short but harsh journey, and it showed as in the cave were thirteen Goblins instead of the fifteen that had left at daybreak. They had been attacked several times through the arduous walk, the worst one being when the Nightwolf had attacked in the yearning of not food but rather entertainment. And entertainment it had got, it had chased one of the leader figures of the village, Withil, into a fear induced frenzy. Most of the Goblins didn’t mind though, after all due to such attack they had wolf-meat to snack on during the tedious wait for nightfall.
After killing the Nightwolf, the Goblins had rushed to find comfort within a cave before they encountered another beast on a hunt for night snacks. It had been their luck that a befitting cave was found not far from where they had faced off the Nightwolf. The cave had a small passage way inwards, which explained why other beasts hadn’t yet taken it as their home since even the Goblins had to crawl to get in, though the crawl was well worth it as what followed was a sizeable cavern. It had been 5 hours since they had arrived, and a further 17 hours to waste before they could leave.
In order to pass time, the Goblins had arranged themselves into a few factions in order to talk the day away. At the far end of the cave sat Withil’s faction which consisted of Withil himself and 3 warriors, one being Roger who was Withil’s right hand Goblin. At the moment the warriors were circled around Withil himself who was critically injured due to the Nightwolf. One of the warriors who had a bit of herb knowledge was applying different pastes over his injuries, which seemed to have worked well as the sickly green skin a few hours back had transformed into a more hearty green.
At the other far end camped Raraak’s standard which included himself and 4 warriors. There were obvious differences between Raraak and Withil, which if were to be simplified would just be that Withil focused a lot more upon his brain while Raraak had sole focus on his brawn. And this showed upon his warriors who were on the whole more muscular and ferocious looking than Withil’s group.
And near the entrance of the cave sat the 4 remaining pack carriers, including Damon, who purposely sat a fair distance away from both the competing factions. This was due to the fact that at this point it was unsure who would become Chieftain and none of the pack carriers wanted to ruin future chance by casting foolish allegiances now. Or that was how it had been…
But it was different now that Withil was injured and unconscious whereas Raraak was fit and well. It was an open secret to nearly all the Goblins that this hunt for the bear was just a farce and instead just a competition between Raraak and Withil to see which one would get the edge to win leadership. And Withil’s chances had only slimmed after such a disastrous start, which seemed to have quite an effect as 2 of the pack carriers had already edged closer to Raraak’s banner…
Not much happened till an hour later when Withil finally opened his crusted-over eyes, gasping in pain as he apprehended his situation. A few minutes later he and Roger were talking intensively about the fight with the Nightwolf, after all it made no sense to Withil that an unconscious Goblin stayed alive all throughout a fight with a beast. It was then that Roger explained him the situation which seemed to clarify the fog in Withil’s head. A few minutes later Roger walked over to Damon before calling him over, all under the scrutinising eyes of Raraak and his lackeys…
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Goblins – Damon POV
I awoke quickly from my daze as I saw Roger call me over, before walking over to their corner. I knew this could potentially ruin chances with Raraak in the future but this was too much of an opportunity to just throw away, after all Withil himself wanted to thank me. I could feel my heartbeat fasten in anticipation, what if this was my lucky chance?
I entered their little circle with a recovering Withil on the wall with Roger next to him, while the two other warriors flanked me in order to make sure Raraak didn’t hear anything going on.
“Boy… I heard you saved me.”
It was very different to how I had imagined, that was talking to someone of power and influence directly. I knew he would thank me and I had already prepared a response but that seemed to get stuck in my throat. Should I act humble or accept his thanks?
“You know boy, I was confused when I awoke how I was still alive! Roger filled me in on how you gave cover to my men as they dragged me off the scene. You know I’m impressed with your knife-throwing skills, I was amazed during that fight at the village but I feel in greater appreciation now that you saved me with those very skills”
Pride and joy rose inside of me. I deserved to get praised and I knew it, else I wouldn’t have spent countless hours per week practising. But it felt so much better hearing it said to me, especially from someone so powerful.
“Let me offer you something as a reward boy. What do you think about coming under my banner, eh? I’ll be perfectly honest with you and tell you that I will win the position of chieftain, that’s a fact, not an assumption, ask any of my men. That Raraak is a meathead, nothing is in there other than muscle and we all know that he won’t be rushing to recruit you anytime soon, after all he only picks the thickest and dumbest looking ones as his men…”
I could hear the 2 warriors behind me chuckling as they heard this.
“… And you’re not dumb boy, not at all. So how about you instead use your skills and talent to aid me and my boys during the hunt. I promise you I’ll make sure you evolve, someone of your talent not evolving would just be a waste of resources. Don’t you agree boy?”
Inside of me the pride and joy increased. I sneaked another glance at Raraak’s camp before agreeing in my mind, all of them did look muscular and strong but Withil could beat them any day, couldn’t he? And my talent would be just wasted if I kept waiting; I had trained for so long to get noticed, why was I hesitating now that I had that golden opportunity in front of me?
With a weak, faltering voice I answered: “Yes Withil, I will join under you and help you win”. They seemed not to mind my voice though as he smiled before grasping my hands and pushing them up in the air in celebration. From a distance away I could hear a few grunts as Withil clearly showed what had transpired within that little meeting to Raraak’s squad in great clarity.
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It was only a short while later I would learn that I had under-estimated Withil. Raraak was the strong one for sure but I had not fully understood at this moment what was meant by Withil being the smarter one…
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Goblins
The hours passed quick after that as most of the Goblins went to sleep. They awoke a short while before the moon reached its peak in the sky. At that time Withil spoke out to the whole company.
“Fellow Goblins, it is time to hunt the bear, eh? I’ve been thirsty for some blood for quite a long time now”. His bedraggled appearance nor salves still on his injuries helped create an inspiring image but no Goblin challenged him.
Rather Raraak followed his lead, “Yes fellow brothers. Just as Withil said, it is time for us to go and kill that bear! We will win this, after all we are just against a bear. FOR THE VILLAGE!” The contrast cast seemed to be like night and day, the tall, muscular Goblin creating bloodlust and courage within all the Goblins’ hearts. He had done a good job at one upping Withil and he seemed proud as he and his group led the way out, eager to hunt the bear.
What had been inspired in the cave had been by no standard false bravado but even their true courage would do little in the fight against the bear, after all it would be a joke if a peak tier 2 monster crumbled to a few tier 1s, wouldn’t it?
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The Trolls-???
Blood surged through his veins, the giant Troll’s blue skin being dyed dark purple as more and more hot blood surged. It was almost as if the giant’s lungs were being pumped up as they ballooned up, air rushing in as his voracious appetite was shown in full.
“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGRRHHH”
What followed was a harrowing bellow, the clamour surrounding the arena instantly silenced as all cheers stopped. The hound had used that time to retrieve an axe from the ground, he could sense something had changed in the giant Troll but was unwilling to be the first victim to the maddened beast’s rampage.
But what followed was not a reckless charge or anything of the sort as the giant just smirked while thick blood continued to spurt out of his chest. Breaking all expectations the giant then cast his hands in front of himself before he clenched them hard, which was followed by an unnerving guffaw.
The whole procedure had frightened the hound who dared not move, not because he didn’t want to but rather because he couldn’t as his feet felt stuck to the ground.
It was almost like whatever had come over the giant was something completely foreign to his body as he finally noticed the blood flowing down his chest in streams. The giant Troll’s full lower half was dyed in red and brown, and the flowing blood would only keep draining until the Troll died from blood loss. In response the Troll firmly placed his hand over his chest. Following that the Troll looked confused as he suddenly gritted his teeth, showing clear expenditure of energy as sweat formed all over his body. 10 seconds later the giant Troll began to madly grin before revealing the wound to the world, now fully patched up with light blue skin where the wound once was.
It was magic. None of the Trolls in the village had learnt magic, including the giant Troll who was currently taking in the scene around him…
The hound had now long regained control of his body from fear but he still didn’t make any moves against the giant Troll. There was something different about him, something sinister yet regal that made him unwilling to make a move. He somehow knew that he wouldn’t win… The only reason why the hound had made it so high up the social ladder was because he could read situations very well, and deep inside him he felt the warning signs.
“Arggh. I give up, I know when I can’t win a fight and I certainly can’t win a fight against such a strong and brutal Troll!”
He made sure to emphasise the words “give up” and more so the words “strong and brutal Troll”, after all a good bit of boot-licking never hurt anyone, right?
The giant Troll’s face lifted upwards, clearly amused at what had just happened. Though the Trolls in the audience didn’t seem to be sharing in the same joke as they felt confused and lost as to why the Hound would suddenly bootlick the giant Troll that he had just been trampling over.
Taking a deep breath, the giant Troll talked out to the crowd. “So who are the next ones to fight? I’ll take you all at once”. The context alone of the speech was interesting but what was horrifying was the voice, as what had come out of the large, muscular troll was not a deep and growl-like voice but rather one that was shrill and pleasing to the ear but certainly not to the eye.
The Trolls in the audience at first all had their gazes upon the giant Troll but soon collectively transferred them onto the elders’ area where all the elder Trolls stood. This cue was enough…
Knowing something weird had happened, the elder’s tensed their bodies as they stared down the giant Troll. The troll in question though seemed nonchalant about it as he slowly walked over to his dropped bludgeon before picking it up. He then tensed his muscles as they bulged out monstrously as he snapped the wooden hold off from the lump of metal at the end.
At the edge of the circle of Trolls stood the 6 elders, all confused as to why the giant Troll had just snapped his weapon in half. It wasn’t smiles that filled their faces when they found out though, rather several faces of shock and fear and a single face of a lump of metal…
The gore splattered all over the rest of them, the broken skull pieces acting like shrapnel as they stabbed into their surroundings. It was unfortunate that the elders had come to enjoy a fight and not fight themselves as their weapons lay a few metres away. But the feeling of the very real danger was enough for them to wake up, at once scrambling towards their metallic partners. But they couldn’t…
This wasn’t due to fear like the hound had felt but rather due to some kind of force, chaining their feet up as all of them instead tripped over. Perhaps with time they could have broken it but they knew that was a luxury out of reach as they heard the thunderous steps rapidly close in.
Hearing the footsteps, one elder only had enough time to turn his head before a towering, thick foot smashed into his face, caving it in as blood splattered all over the foot. The next elder had enough time to get up but not enough to react as a stupidly fast and yet weighty knee slammed into his hip, ramming his lower body away from his upper half as the spine shattered.
Rather than awaiting his death, the next elder had struggled enough to break off the incorporeal chains over his feet, as instead he jumped into the air with his hands wrapped around each other in a hammer shape. Knowing this was potentially his only chance, the elder used all strength possible in his body as he struck downwards towards the giant Troll’s head. It was a pity that his attack never made contact as he was stopped short by an arm with corded muscles seizing his neck. The giant Troll held the flying elder in the air with one hand for one dramatic second before he squeezed…
The elder’s eyes began to roll backwards, his clenched jaw loosening up to the point of releasing pathetic whimpers, his royal blue skin turning visibly paler.
*Crack*
The elder’s body collapsed down without the arm to support it, crumpling into the bloody soil as the snapped head laid perpendicular to the rest of the body.
Knowing what would come next, the last two elders immediately surrendered as they prostrated themselves on the floor in front of the giant Troll. Their dignity meant nothing when compared to their lives.
Standing tall, taller than ever before, the giant Troll was covered in blood and sweat that continued to wash it off him. But he seemed not to care as he smiled once more. He was the new chieftain…