The sun was setting in the great forest of Celebos as a small humanoid-looking figure left the shelter of his cave with a small bag over his shoulder. He hesitated and looked back to the cave, reluctant to leave the safety of the tribe so close to nightfall. But he had no choice, the order to dispose of the failures was directly from the chief.

His body was surrounded by a warm green glow as he felt the energy of his gift course through his body. Gifted by Hermes he was one of the quickest in the tribe. And unfortunately, that also made him the most suitable to send for errands such as these.

He quickly made his way through the undergrowth of the forest and when he deemed he was far enough away not to attract any unwanted attention to the tribe, he chucked the bag he was carrying as far as he could, before quickly making his way back to the tribe, hopefully in time to get his part of the day's hunt.

On his way back he felt a sliver of remorse for the three newborns. Not being given a gift by the gods was the worst thing that could happen to a member of the blood-fang tribe. The chief hated weakness and nothing were more of a burden than taking care of a Goblin without a gift in the cruel Celebos forest. The three newborns without a gift were fed mildly poisonous berries. Not enough to harm an adult goblin, but more than enough to be fatal for a newborn.

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The Goblin was broken out of his thoughts when he noticed the dimly lit entrance of the cave in front of him. He hurried back inside and a smile came to his face when he noticed that his tribemates had remembered to leave him his share of food. He quickly sat with the rest of the tribe as they ate together and talked about the day's events.

Unbeknownst to him, the small bag that he had thrown shook slightly as one of the goblins in the bag opened his eyes. He had piercing slit red pupils and was shrouded by a blood-red glow.

The little goblin felt a great hunger shoot through his body as he tried to move his feeble limbs. The sent of death hit his nostrils and he looked back inside the bag where the bodies of the other two newborn Goblins rested, already cold with death. 

The little Gobin crawled towards the nearest body and tore it apart with his small but sharp fangs. Having eaten his fill he fell asleep in exhaustion, still not recovered from the effects of the poison in his body.