Diving off the branch so I can fly between the gaps of the Lament Willow branches, I ride a current of air towards the source of the angry calls.
A large nose with flared nostrils, scrunched up at the stench of the goblins. Longer canines that looked more like tusks that grew out the corners of his mouth and lower jaw. Skin colored a darker green, highlighting the toned and increased muscle mass of his body like a bronzed-up body-builder. Albeit a short one.
Wow! Was that Greenie!?
But he was big now. Large enough to tower over the goblins as he stood outside the ring of trees. A little less than the average height of a man, and with defined muscles on his arms and chest to boot. A few large scars, bite marks marred his darkened green skin, chunks of flesh off his chest that the rats had ripped off.
Hmm. Evolution had healed him but not given him a brand new body.
Appraisal!
Ding~!
---Status---
Name:
Greenie
Race:
Savage Goblin Rare
Title:
Raven's Pet, Guard New!!
Magic:
N/A
Abilities:
Special Skill [Luck]
Skill [Stab]
Skill [Quick Punch] New!!
Skill [Gross Eater]
Skill [Night Vision]
Skill [Call]
Skill [Escape]
Skill [Odd Weapons Crafting]
Skill [Hard Skin] New!!
Skill [Body Slam] New!!
Resistances:
[Poison Resistance] [Rot Resistance] [Pain Resistance] New!!
------
Wow seeing all the new skills he had made me a bit jealous.
His eyes, now slanted into higher slits that made him look perpetually angry were searching around as if he was looking for something. Though he shrank back a little when the smaller goblins shook their spears at him threateningly.
I knew what he was looking for.
Greenie was looking for me!
"Kraaaaawk!"
I call out to him in greeting and dive down to rest on his much meatier shoulder. So comfortable!
Greenie grins widely when he sees me, patting me on the back with 4 meatier fingers.
Letting him pet me, I settle myself on his shoulder so he doesn't accidentally knock me off. There was more space to relax on now, but also more flesh. I had to be careful not to pierce with my talons.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
His teeth necklace was gone, as was his belt that he'd chucked at the rats to save me. The only thing he wore now was his loincloth, which thankfully, the rats hadn't destroyed.
M...Master?
Swiveling my head around to check my surroundings, I look for the source of the voice that spoke in my head, just like the system lady did.
The voice had called out for a master. Who's the master?
Oh. The lightbulb goes off. I'm the master! No one had ever called me master before. It felt weird, unsettling, like wearing a pair of wet socks. Let me try the Thought Transmission thing again.
Greenie?
A response quickly came after my tentative call.
Master!
Greenie! I call back to him, flapping my wings in happiness.
I find you! Greenie keeps smiling at me with a silly look on his face.
Yes, yes you did Greenie. I wink back at him, opening and closing one beady eye.
"Kieeeek!" The goblin cries interrupt our moment together.
Can't you see we're having a moment!? My feathers ruffle up as I ignore their cries.
Are you okay Greenie?
He tilts his head back at me in confusion.
Okay?
Ah, maybe my phrasing was difficult to understand.
Does your body hurt, Greenie? Using my new wingtips to tap at one large scar crossing over his shoulder, I peer up into his face.
No pain, Master. Greenie almost wiggles in his excitement, looking pleased that his master was caring for him.
Suddenly his happy expression disappears, hand moving forward to catch something out of the air.
Plunk.
One of the goblins had thrown a rock at us. A few others jeer, baring their teeth.
Who are these goblins, Greenie?
Taking another step back and making sure the shoulder I perched upon was further away from the agitated goblins, I can hear Greenie transmit his thoughts back to me.
His fingers clench over the rough rock in his hand.
Woodspeaker Tribe, Master.
They don't like you. That was obvious. Their anger was directed at Greenie. They'd ignored me after I'd escaped from Scarface's clutches.
No, Master. Greenie rubs a hand on his thickened arms.
Too weak me.
Not hunt. Stay in too much.
I was starting to get the picture.
How about a family?
Adding a picture of a female and male goblin, the female holding a baby goblin in her arms, I hope Greenie understands what I'm trying to ask. Though I wasn't sure what a goblin family would look like, after I'd seen the human women who'd been used and discarded after giving birth.
Greenie doesn't smile when I hear his response in my head.
...Greenie alone. No tribe.
Not Woodspeaker anymore.
Raven. What you want?
Another voice interrupts our conversation, and I jerk in surprise.
Greenie growled, crouching low as the goblins hissed at him in anger. Some of the spears they pointed at us shook a little. They weren't just angry. The goblins were scared too.
Of us.
Who was it? Who spoke just now?
Searching across the twisted goblin faces, I look for the source. Then there was movement at the back of the group, behind them was one old goblin standing up.
He was the oldest, spotted goblin there, with skin as dark green as an evergreen tree. I'd been ignoring him as he sat with eyes closed, leaning against one of the trees. I thought he was dead.
The old goblin used his spear decorated with a few scraggly feathers to push himself upright.
[Rare Forest Goblin]
He was the same as what Greenie had been before evolution.
You not welcome.
The gravelly voice echoes in both Greenie and I's minds.
Aha! Thought Transmission did work.
----------------------------------------
The three slaves stood outside the swirling mists that marked the entrance into the Wildlands. The Mioldri Priest rolled away on his cart, the oxen moving at a slow, steady pace. He never looked back to the slaves, glad his part of the mission was done.
"I'm guessing we've arrived?" The blind dwarf was the first to speak up.
"Yes" The minotaur grunts, twisting his neck to loosen the slave collar wrapped around his throat. There was nothing he could do to scratch at the skin that itched where the collar met his flesh. For he had no arms to scratch with.
The green-haired hag, still connected to them with the chain that stretched between the three stays silent.
"And you. Will you be alright?" Turning to the ugly hag, the minotaur asks her. It was impossible to see his expression as his head was that of a bull's but his tone belied his resignation to their fate. He was going to die, sooner or later. The moment he'd lost his arms, he was a dead minotaur. Or was he? The priest's words still reverbrated in his mind..
"It's going to happen soon..." The hag whispered to herself, fingers digging into her stomach as she clutched at it, eyebrows furrowed in pain.