“So…”

An awkward silence filled the space between bird calls. The Elluwaryn woods near Berics were nowhere near as untamed and dangerous as those further west, the namesake for the forest didn’t begin for another dozen miles leaving this area quite tame. Even still, there were plenty of animals about, and thus, plenty of noises. That didn’t make Nerick’s pauses any less awkward.

“The chief of your goblin clan was named…”

“Goblin Chief, obviously.”

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. The goblin was undoubtedly shrewd and intelligent, but the ways in which his mental faculties fell short were… concerning. The problems that would come about from the naming system as described were so numerous that he could barely begin to count them. It made the trek through the woods more entertaining at least, but consistent exposure to the goblin was sure to leave him less human than before.

Or at least less intelligent. Based on the answers he was getting, there might not be a difference.

“Presumably this Goblin Chief wasn’t born as your chief, yes?”

“Of course,” Chef explained very slowly in the most deliberate and obvious display of patronization that Nerick had ever seen. “Before him we had Goblin Warchief. Before that there was a different tribe altogether since Warchief brought us to the cave in the first place.”

He listened to the goblin talk while, again, slowly shaking his head.

“Then what did you call Goblin Chief before he was a chief?”

“Goblin Smasher.”

He just looked down at his small green companion for a while as they continued to walk.

“So a goblin that smashes or someone that smashes goblins?”

“Yes.”

Once again, Chef looked at him like he was being simple. As if he was the crazy person here for thinking that naming someone after their job was incredibly stupid, especially since getting a new job would mean getting a new name.

And what kind of useless answers was he getting now?

“Why would anyone be proud of that? That would be like a human going around calling himself Goblin Killer just because he kills lots of goblins. How reductive and useless is that?”

“You seem to be confused. Goblin Smasher is an incredibly nuanced name in our language. Perhaps it’s a translation error. You see, ‘smash’ means to pound something hard and thoroughly. So by saying that he was a smasher of goblins—”

“Please stop. I can’t take much more of this.”

The goblin shrugged while they continued their walk. Every other step somehow seemed to land on a small or not so small piece of wood, adding loud cracking and snapping noises to the cacophony of sounds accompanying them in their journey. How wonderful.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

The perfect companion to a now even more awkward conversation: snapping twigs. Great.

“Look, he picked the name, not me. It’s a bit shit, but most goblin names are. Mine is the exception.”

He actually thinks that his name isn’t confusing or stupid. How did he possibly come to that conclusion while insulting their other names?

“But what if there was a second goblin chef?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Nerick could feel the flexing of a vein on his forehead as he forced himself to remain calm and listen. “After all, there’s only one of me.”

Remain calm, Nerick. It could just be an elaborate prank to elicit a reaction out of you. Even if it isn’t, you can’t get mad at someone just because they’re ignorant. If you do, they won’t ever learn.

“See, that’s my point. I was asking what would happen if there were a second goblin with a chef class, not if there were a second you. But because your class is your name, you didn’t even understand my question. That’s a flaw with your language and naming convention.”

His companion stopped walking and put a tiny hand to his chin. Was Chef even a him? Nerick had never met a female goblin before, not that he was aware of at least. Did they have breasts?

Oh great, now I’m imagining Mr. Chef but with tits. Wonderful, now I’m scarred for life.

“I would rename him.”

The goblin kept walking after his statement as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I considered changing my name to Executive Chef, but I would be spitting in the face of goblins everywhere if I did that. Then I considered Goblin Executive Chef, but that’s just too long. So, I would just change that goblin’s name and keep mine. Maybe Goblin Cook or Goblin Helper.”

What in the hells kind of logic was this?

“What, you’d rename another goblin to avoid the confusion? You can do that?”

Once again, large black eyes looked up at him like he was the idiot here.

“I’m strong. If he doesn’t listen, I’d just kill him.”

The mentality of a goblin was truly different from that of a human. It was somewhat frightening.

“Ok, but what about all the newborn goblins. They grow up and start doing work, how do you tell them apart. Surely you just don’t go ‘Hey you, goblin’ each time.”

Chef shook his head slowly, imitating Nerick’s behavior almost perfectly. He felt another vein bulge in his forehead.

“You just don’t get it. A goblin is named Goblin Peon at birth. It is only by growing up and distinguishing themselves that they earn the right to a name. Otherwise, they’ll be a peon for life, which is not uncommon.”

It made a strange sort of sense, but it was still an absolutely insane system. There were just so many problems with it.

“Then how do you tell the difference between peons? How do you order just one at a time or make friends or any other individual thing?”

The patronizing look returned and Nerick resisted the urge to lash out. The creature beside him, small as it was, could easily rip him in half if it were so inclined. But conversing with him about this was so infuriating! Why couldn’t the goblin understand how stupid that system was?! It was smart enough, it just refused to listen!

“Oh humans and their individuals. No, you don’t care which peon does which activity. They’re peons. If one of them was good enough at something to be singled out, then you’d just name them. Like Kek or Chunk.”

Nerick stared at the goblin incredulously.

“You named two of your peons Kek and Chunk? Chunk I can understand, but what distinguishes a goblin named Kek?”

A smile crept onto Chef’s face as his eyes twinkled with nostalgia.

“As you pointed out, Chunk was fat, and so he was the first emergency ration. But Kek, well he laughed a lot. So, he was often the watch duty since he was loud enough to wake up the whole cave. He was also an absolute moron that couldn’t be trusted to do much more than sit around and make noise.”

Nerick looked down at his goblin acquaintance, since companion felt like too strong of a word now, with an unreadable expression.

“So, he was named Kek because that’s the sound of goblin laughter… and he was a joke…”

“Yea, more or less.”

They continued on in silence for a while as Nerick struggled to comprehend this deep dive into goblin naming. All his thoughts circled back to the same conclusion.

“Goblins are really cruel.”

The smile on Chef’s face grew nearly to his ears as his eyes twinkled.

“Yes, yes they are.”