He was slipping in and out of consciousness, his thoughts fuzzy and incoherent. A fever was running through his body and cooking his mind. He was exhausted and unable to move anything and he felt as if the world was turning upside down, threatening to drop him sideways constantly. His mouth was so dry, but he could barely move his tongue, let alone seek water. Water was something nice and beautiful, quenching thirst and cooling your hot body down. He remembered the cool clean spring of water that flowed down from above in their camp.

As a child he used to run through the water and splash it everywhere, cackling with joy and pleasure, as the grumpy old people had cussed at him for splashing water on them. It was great fun to elicit a response from the old people. They tended to do their best to ignore him and the other kids.

Except for Rogh, the big and powerful [Shaman] of the tribe, he remembered how stern he could look at them after they had been mischievous. He stood there under the water stream, letting the water tickle his mouth, whilst making funny sounds that bubbled out weirdly from his mouth.

Lir was giggling at his gurgling and Tor was hitting his thighs in a supporting drum beat. Lir’s giggle was infectious and soon he had to laugh too, which did not mix well with his mouth full of water, and soon he was hacking and coughing, to the hilarity of his mates.

After he regained his composure, he cupped his hands full of water and splashed it in a spray of droplets over his friends, causing them to scream in mock panic and to run away. He gathered new water in his hands and ran behind them, laughing evilly at them.

“I’m the water monster and I’ll drown you in my water.” He yelled after them.

He was closing in on Tor, who looked over his shoulder and screamed in mock fear. With a daring jump he closed in on Tor, ready to unleash his watery fury on him, but then he tripped. Falling face first, his water left his cupped hands, flew past Tor, and hit Bukr square in his groin. This made Gra laugh out loud in surprise.

“Hey Bukr, you pissed yourself!” She exclaimed between guffaws whilst Crag picked himself off from the ground, his face lightly scraped.

Bukr was stunned for a moment before anger started to show on his face and he started to rise, his massive bulky frame towering high over him. Crag was filled with shock and fear. He had brought shame to the [Chieftain]! As Bukr took a threatening step towards him, a wet stain on his loincloth bearing witness to the source of his ire.

Running away as fast as his legs could carry him, he made his way through the camp, jumping over beds, sprinting through groups, hearing the curses and swearing of the [Chieftain] behind him. After having lost track of the [Chieftain] he took shelter behind a crate and tried to make himself as small as possible.

He heard the [Chieftain] approach with angry curses and loud stomps, hitting everything in his way with a loud racket. When the sound was too close for comfort, he bolted away from his hiding spot and went to the storage corner. Weaving through the crates and baskets, keeping low so he would hide where he was running to from the [Chieftain].

He could hear the [Chieftain] behind him, and he chanced a look behind him, the [Chieftain] making a straight line towards him, knocking baskets over and kicking crates out of the way. Crag cursed himself. Of course the [Chieftain] could see him, he was much larger than his friends!

Panic grasping his heart, he bent deeper, crawl running on all fours, making sure to keep out of sight of the larger [Chieftain]. Suddenly there was a sharp short sound from his right, and he saw his friends Lir and Tor holding up a great basket from under which they peeked, motioning him to join them.

He took a look back to gauge where the [Chieftain] was, then hurried over towards them and quickly slipped inside the basket, which they let down quickly.

His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and thrummed in his chest as if it would wish to spring out of it. Holding his over his mouth, he tried to silence his panicked breathing, trying to stay as silent as possible. As he heard the loud passage of the [Chieftain], miraculously passing by their hideout without noticing them. His mates grinned at him and he dared a wan grin back to them, still keeping an ear cocked for the position of the [Chieftain].

As he heard the sounds of the [Chieftain] making his way back, some sounds he hadn’t heard before were there. He looked questioningly to his mates, but they shrugged and didn’t know what it was. Keeping his ears opened he listened to the angry grunts and the strange sounds and thuds.

Realization hit him like a cold shower. The chieftain was lifting crates and baskets, looking for their hideout.

He motioned the movement of picking up and looking into his imaginary object to his mates and their eyes grew large and concerned. Before they could hatch an escape plan they felt their basket move, but it didn’t lift as they had feared and braced themselves for, hiding their heads between their knees.

The gruff voice of Rogh sounded above them.

“It is so good to see our chieftain concerned with the state of our wares”

“Mrrr, looking for the stupid kid who made me wet. Teach a lesson.”

Huddled in silence they looked at each other in fear of the wrath of the [Chieftain]. Then their basket moved and then bent inwards as if a heavy weight was pressing down on it, nearly evoking a yelp in surprise from Crag, but he managed to keep his shock contained.

“They are just kids playing. I remember us playing like that too when we were kids.”

“Hmpf, they made Gra laugh at me. As if I pissed myself.” Came the gruff reply.

“Pah, she saw you last week when you had drunk too much of that keg and had fallen asleep covered in vomit, a little water is nothing.”

“She told you that?!”

“Yes, she invited everyone to your cabin to have a look at our great and glorious [Chieftain]” Came the reply from above with a small snicker.

With a bellow of rage that made the trio shake with fear, stomping sounds and crashing sounds, more fearsome as what had chased them before. Those had been downright peaceful in comparison to this.

When the footsteps were gone in the distance, the weight removed itself from the basket. They heard a rustling sound and then the basket was lifted from them. They bolted in three directions, but a gruff voice commanded them “Stop!” and they did, compelled to stop by something they couldn't resist.

“Come back here.”

Crag turned around and saw how Rogh put the basket down, as his feet started carrying him back towards their former hiding spot. Rogh set his massive frame on the basket, which bent inwards again. The tribe's [Shaman] was easily twice his size, his muscular arms covered in tattoos in strange patterns that made his head hurt if he tried to follow them with his eyes.

His nose was short and pointy and his brow a bony ridge that jutted out over his eyes. The sparse hairs on his head had beads of various colors bound in them, rattling with every movement of his head

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Crag was joined by his friends that had also been compelled to come back. Shamans were unfair in that they could use magic to affect their tribe and command them to do things they wouldn't do otherwise.

Pretending to study his feet he could feel Rogh’s gaze burning in his scalp, like an ember pressed against his flesh. He shifted a bit on his feet because it made him uncomfortable.

“Well then cubs, what have we learned today?” Rogh asked with an intense tone.

Eying each other sideways, nobody dared to speak up at first, fearful to give the wrong answer.

“Well?”

Crag felt a spring of cheekiness suddenly well up in him and replied impishly.

“Do not make the chieftain's wife laugh at him?”

At that Rogh burst out in a sudden and hearty guffaw, and the trio relaxed a bit. Laughing was good in Crag's opinion. Laughing people rarely beat one up.

“I would have gone with, be careful where you play, but this works as well”

Taking on more a serious pose Rogh looked at them with an intense gaze and the merriment left him entirely. He looked so serious that Crag was getting worried about it.

“Now my cubs. The time for childishness is soon over for you. I am here to take you on your quest to gain your first level. After you’ve gained it, you will have to participate in the tribe by bringing food and useful tools from your foraging.

A shock went through Crags's body at the revelation. They were to become adults. Full members of the tribe! Excitement quickly replaced shock and he could hardly wait to get going. His friends looked equally eager, with Lir even hopping from one foot to the other with eagerness.

Rogh stood up from his basket, which had given up on returning to its old form, and walked out of the storage corner of the camp, and the trio followed him, whispering excitedly amongst each other.

------

He woke up with pain in his body. His voice croaked something as he tried to grasp back at his friends that were with him just now. He tried to move his arm, but it wouldn’t work. Why wouldn’t it work? he pondered. Oh, that’s right… he broke his arm…

-----

He screamed out in pain. The fall in the pit had landed him unluckily on a pile of rubble. With a loud snap, followed by a flare of pain like nothing he had encountered before. As he laid there cradling his arm and moaning in pain, he saw how his worried friends clambered down, more cautious than they had been moments before, checking for loose rocks as they made their way.

He cursed his carelessness on his way down, not checking the stones for their stability. That loose brick had given away and taken him with it on a mad tumble down the pit. He gritted his teeth together and took a look at his arm, only to feel his stomach contents coming up. A piece of bone was jutting out of his arm in a bloody gash, and his arm seemed to have two elbows.

His vision went red and then green for a moment in flashes before he felt himself go limp and his head fell back on the rocks, the world turning black. He felt thirsty for some reason.

-----

With a dry hiss from his throat, he tried to summon his status, but he couldn’t focus his thoughts enough to call it forth. The status was such a strange thing. He remembered when Rogh had explained it to him the first time…

-----

Through actions within your tribe, you have become a true specimen of your species

[Goblin level 1]

[HP +5]

[ST +2]

His eyes grew large and he waved with his bandaged arm to get the attention of Rogh instead of shouting, as not to disturb his friends in the difficult art of weaving a basket for their tribe.

Rogh motioned him to come and they moved towards the sewer canal that their tribe had dammed up so it would be dry and stopped in front of the wall made from treasures and loot found in the sewer.

Rogh put a hand on the wall and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking to him, in a solemn voice.

“This wall was built by Arrhi and Nra, the first of our tribe. They toiled for years to make this haven for their children, our tribe.”

Crag nodded at that. He had heard the names in the old tales of the tribe’s heroes, the escape from the wildlands, their treacherous travel through the human city, to find this hideout safe from monsters.

“They were my father and mother, they were your great grandparents.”

Crags eyes went wide at that. He had not realized that the nearly godlike heroes of his tribe had been his great grandparents. He felt pride in that knowledge, his chest puffing up a bit. In him coursed the blood of heroes!"

“Building these walls cost them their lives. They were searching the sewers for materials to strengthen it, when they were killed by humans they chanced upon. They lured the humans away from the tribe and tried to escape through an exit tunnel they knew. They had almost made it.”

Crag was shocked! His grandparents killed by humans? When they were at work for the tribe? He would avenge them! Rage was building in him.

Rogh knelt before him and put his massive hands on his small shoulders.

“I know you are angry now, but conquer that anger. Humans can’t be beaten by goblins. They are too large, too strong. They would wipe us out if they knew we were here, and all of us would be gone. Arrhi and Nra gave their lives for the tribes so the humans would be misled over our existence. They believed they had crept in via that exit, which saved us.”

“But that isn’t fair! They killed them!”

“Sadly, life isn’t fair for us. We are universally hated by most intelligent races although I do not know why.”

With a sad shake of his head, he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, the beads in his hair still rattling from the movement.

“Through their deaths, we learned that we need to hide away, and not be noticed by the humans above us.”

Gesturing at the wall behind him, whilst encompassing Crag with his other arm he spoke with pride and sorrow.

“We need to hide, to keep our tribe safe, we need to hunt and gather resources to strengthen our walls, to build support for our tunnels, find food for the tribe to eat. This wall reminds us every day of what lies beyond, and the risks if we are found.”

Crag eyed the wall in wonder. He had never considered the wall in this way, the solemnity that was held within the build. This wall was nearly holy to them, the most important thing in their tribe.

“When you go out there, stay away from all dangers. Don’t allow yourself to be found by humans. If you find yourself on the brink of death, make your way to the water, it will flush you out of these tunnels, keeping us safe.”

“But what if I don’t manage that?” He asked uncertainly.

“Don’t try to get in situations where you wouldn’t be able to. But should it happen, well then I hope that Arrhi and Nra smile upon our fates and cause high water that will flush your body away for you. Otherwise, it’s the end for us with certainty.”

“I will do my best!”

Rogh nodded good-naturedly at his enthusiasm and stood up from the crouch he had been in.

“Now that you are a full-fledged leveled member of the tribe, you will need to level. You can level by doing things for the tribe. Gather resources, mend things, hunt for food, cook. When you reach level five you will get a specialization. I’m a [Shaman], Bukr has the [Chieftain] class. His wife is a [Forager].”

Crag scratched his head and was about to ask a question why it was important to specialize when Rogh continued.

“By doing things that benefit the tribe, you gain experience. The more experienced, the better you get at things. Sometimes things you do become skills and then they become extremely powerful and easy to perform. As long as you have the endurance for it.”

Walking through the canal towards the other wall and Crag following him, listening with rapt attention to these pearls of wisdom, he continued his lecture.

“By doing things repeatedly you form skills, then as you gain experience you get better at those skills and they cost less energy to perform. So try to practice a lot at the skills you have received. This has the added benefit that you will level faster when you improve your usage of your skills”

Having arrived at the other wall they watched the two exit holes in it, high enough for Crag to walk through and for the giant Shaman to crawl through.

“It is time for you to go and make a path for yourself young Crag. Go out there and be a hero to your tribe.”