The sun lingered just above the horizon, coloring the world in a red hued glow.

There would be some that would inevitably compare the redness of the sunset to the color of blood, but it was evident from the juxtaposition between the celestial object and the blood soaked earth that the two colors were only remotely similar.

A multitude of corpses were strewn haphazardly across the landscape. Some were leaning against the trees, while others were partially covered by shrubbery and tall grass. Most were still leaking vital fluids, tainting the ground and fouling the air with a repugnant metallic scent.

The battle had been won, but at a great cost. Over seventy goblins had died, and around a hundred forty had suffered some sort of injury. A handful were just barely hanging on to life, and several more could be expected to die from infections.

Chief among the dead was the High Priestess Goma, who had expired just as the humans were starting to rout, holding onto her last breath all the way until victory was ensured. The condition of her body was almost pristine, and the expression that she wore was one of serenity. Still, Uma couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn as she looked upon her dead master.

The emotion that Uma most predominantly felt was not grief, for she knew that her master had no thoughts of regret at the moment of her death. Through the spirit link, Uma could sense her master was feeling truly relieved in her final moments, but Uma, who survived, knew that the toughest trials had yet to come.

The human unit had been broken and decimated, but not annihilated. In an effort to limit the number of casualties that the tribe would suffer, Uma had told the goblins to open up one side of the encirclement when the human had become visibly desperate, to allow them to rout. While the tactic had been a success, and a subsequent squeeze was able to slay a majority of those attempting to escape, there were a dozen or so human soldiers who were able to flee with their lives, along with the three rangers who had also gotten away.

While Uma did not know how many humans existed in this world, and how many of those were allies of the invaders, it would be laughable to think that this small unit was the entire human population. Just the fact that the human officer had commanded two of the rangers to escape immediately upon engagement hinted that there was somewhere for them to run. Perhaps there was a nearby settlement, or even an allied force, somewhere beyond the horizon.

And if they were anything like the humans that Uma knew, there could be a town, a city, a country, or even a coalition of them existing beyond the small world that the goblins knew and had to themselves.

The gravity of this knowledge weighed heavily upon Uma’s mind, along with the burden called responsibility which now sat upon her shoulders. While she contemplated the future, and helped triage the wounded, her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of distant bleating.

Uma looked up, and saw a herd of bulky, deer-like animals, mewing and bleating their way through the forest. They were “deer-like” by virtue of their all too plump bodies; these animals would be to deer what pigs are to boars. While they were indeed stronger than the deer Uma remembers, they also happened to share the same jittery and flighty nature, which made them ill-suited for being anything other than a beast of burden or a source of food.

“Uma… No, Great Mother. The shepherds have arrived with the Merr herd, but the sun’s setting and there’s too much loot for just one trip. How should we harvest our spoils?” asked Duna, a seasoned warmaiden from the Weaver family. Duna captained the priestess’s bodyguards and acted as Uma’s temporary lieutenant.

Uma was barely an adult even by a goblin’s standards, and so she had feared that a power struggle might break out upon news of her master’s death. Thankfully, her expectations were averted, as the goblins merely demonstrated a somber acceptance towards the High Priestess’s death. They immediately started showing Uma an almost undue respect upon her automatic succession to the position. Perhaps there was more loyalty towards the capabilities and religious significance of the office itself, rather than towards the High Priestess as an individual.

It’s not to say that goblins had no sense of personal love, but to goblins the dead only served as a memory to be cherished.

It was quite a strange experience for Uma to hear a grown woman almost two generations older than her calling her Great Mother, but Mother was a title as much as it was a relationship in goblin society, so Uma resisted the urge to correct Duna.

“Prioritize the bodies of our people, the tall goblin rations and the metal equipment. The rest can be up to individual discretion,” answered Uma. The first priority was probably unnecessary for Uma to mention, but there was a real possibility of the goblins giving up some of the equipment and going for the human corpses.

Goblins, unfortunately, really loved meat.

Duna nodded, evidently having comprehended the reasoning behind Uma’s command, and proceeded to pass the message along by yelling. Those who heard the message would then scream towards their comrades farther away, until everyone had either heard or misheard Uma’s command.

Uma subconsciously shook her head at the scene. She didn’t know how to make a radio, so that was another reason she needed to train her spiritual powers harder. Mass telepathy was too convenient of a tool to forgo when she had to lead a group of this size.

The Merr herd had around fifty adult individuals, and the goblins had also managed to seize the two horses and three mules that were still dumbly grazing around a hundred or so paces away from the battlefield. The mules were already loaded with rations and equipment, so the goblins had to throw away much of the humans’ camping gear in order to pack on some more of the useful stuff.

In the end, the tribe was able to load all the dead and some of the heavily wounded, all the human swords, a few sets of lamellar, and a few hundred pounds of dried human rations onto their animals, forming a grand and morbid caravan. They had to leave behind a few hundred more pounds of dried food, and all of the freshly killed human bodies, which some goblins eyed regretfully.

But just as they were about to leave, a commotion broke out towards the fringe of the goblin formation.

“Get it!” “Don’t let it get away!” “Yaaaaaa!” “Argggh!” <%!$!$!!>

Some of the goblins who had been scavenging through the human corpses had discovered someone who was just pretending. The individual sprung up and futilely attempted to run, only to be cut in the thigh and dogpiled by nearly ten goblins.

Just as the human was about to be eviscerated like all of their fellows, Uma realized what was happening and shouted, “Wait! Stop! Leave him alive!” as she raced over to the scene.

It was a good thing the goblin responsible for execution was now wielding one of the heavier human swords, the increased weight delayed his movements for a few split seconds, long enough for Uma to get her message across.

The goblins looked a bit confused at Uma’s sudden outburst, but nonetheless obliged.

“Great Mother, do you wish to perform the kill?” asked one of the goblins, who presented Uma with their weapon.

Uma shook her head, wincing slightly from the smell that was coming from between the soldier’s legs.

“No, I wish to speak with him. Remove his weapon, restrain his limbs and flip him over.”

The goblins were perplexed, but they followed Uma’s directions as Uma’s bodyguards surrounded her protectively.

“Great Mother, please stand back. The tall-goblin is a dangerous beast, and might injure you when it struggles,” advised a worried Duna. It was a bit uncomfortable to the human part of Uma’s psyche how the goblins kept referring to humans as a sort of animal, but the advice itself was sound so Uma didn’t complain.

The human soldier, once flipped around, revealed himself to be a young man probably in his late teens. He had a thin stubble above his lips, but his features were youthful and his skin was without wrinkles. His expression was locked in a state of abject terror; his eyes darted feverishly, and his knees clattered uncontrollably under the weight of several goblin warriors. Although he was being held down by the limbs, he seemed to have given up struggling, lying vacantly on the ground like some sort of jittery corpse.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The young human looked wretched, but Uma didn’t know if he deserved any pity. On one hand, he was at an age where by modern standards, he wouldn’t know any better, and his agency on whether he wanted to fight the goblins was probably limited, but on the other hand, despite all his possibly extenuating circumstances he still chose to lift his sword in slaughter, making him an enemy.

That being said, the soldier could prove to be much more useful alive than dead, so the moral quandary had only briefly crossed Uma’s mind before practicality won out. Uma searched her mind for the appropriate vocabulary in a language she had hardly mastered, in an attempt to communicate with the human.

{You, can you understand, the Common Tongue?} She asked, but to Uma’s disappointment, there was no inkling of recognition in the young human’s eyes. He just stared blankly, no different from when Uma was speaking goblin.

{Who are you? Where do you live?}

Not to be discouraged, Uma tried a couple more phrases that she knew, but she was met with predictable results. The young human soldier did not understand the Common Tongue.

Well it was a result that could be expected. The humans evidently had their own, separate language, and since foreign languages were typically the domain of elites, it was understandable that this foot soldier did not have the privilege of learning the Common Tongue.

The one who was most likely to know the Common Tongue would be the officer, but the officer, as the morale pillar of the unit, was one of the prime targets during the battle. It was obviously too late now to un-kill him. Magic was real, but Uma knew nothing of necromancy.

Uma sighed. The breakthrough that she was hoping for didn’t turn out the way she wanted, so her source of information was once again limited to just the eyes and ears of her tribe. It felt like she was attempting to cross a bridge on a cloudy night, with only her sense of touch to guide her; just one misstep and she would fall into the bottomless chasm of destruction.

Since the soldier was worthless as a conversational partner, there was only one more purpose he could serve.

“Let him go,” said Uma.

The goblins holding down the soldier took a while to comprehend Uma’s words, because what she had said was just so contrary to their expectations.

“You mean let it go free, Great Mother?” asked one of them.

“Yes, indeed. Release his limbs and let him run away.” Uma nodded. She did not explain herself any further as there still existed a slim chance that the soldier actually understood the goblin tongue and was merely acting, or was able to read the expressions of the goblins, which shared many similarities with that of a human’s.

Luckily, it was a small enough issue that no goblin felt the need to challenge her on it. They got off the soldier’s limbs, but kept their weapons ready, with some of them telling the human to leave both verbally and gesturally. The soldier seemed to have been scared witless by his predicament, and took a good while to realize that by some miracle he was allowed to keep his life. He hastily struggled to stand, and limped away as quickly as his injured leg could carry him, disregarding anything that could possibly slow him down.

The poor chap didn’t even have the sense to grab one of the weapons lying on the ground on his way out. There were carnivorous beasts living in this forest, and while they may not be brave enough to attack a large enough group of humans or goblins, a lone, injured individual would be fair game for them.

Perhaps the soldier may not even have the chance to take advantage of Uma’s mercy, and that would be a pity.

Uma watched as the soldier’s silhouette shrunk to the size of a finger, before calling for Duna once again. “Duna, please send four of our best hunters to follow that tall-goblin. He may know the way back to the rest of his people, and I want to know where they are and how many there are.”

The young priestess knew every member of the tribe, but most were just a profile to her. The experienced warmaiden Duna probably had a more nuanced understanding of the capabilities of the more martially inclined individuals, and so Uma leaned heavily on her advice.

Duna called over two males and two females, who were named Dar and Har, and Tua and Wura respectively. Dar, Har and Wura were close to Uma in age, while Tua was a few years older, making her the most experienced of the bunch. The logic in Duna’s selection was immediately apparent to Uma; goblins were matriarchal and respected hierarchy, but that did not mean that there were no differences in opinion. To prevent disagreements from being an issue, Duna selected two females who were both skilled but had a vast difference in seniority to have a clearly and firmly established chain of command, with two of the stronger males to serve as their helpers.

Uma nodded internally and addressed the hunters: “You may have already heard from Duna what I want you to do, but I will also clarify that I want you to prioritize your lives. Follow only from a safe distance, and do not attempt to interact with the tall-goblin. Do not try to save him if he’s attacked, and do not try to take his corpse if he is killed. If you see any large groups of them I want you to count how many there are, but if there are any signs that you are seen, I want you to run.”

“It’s just like hunting wolves!” quipped the younger Wura, who immediately had her hair ruffled by the older Tua, “aaaaaaah, I’m not wrong Auntie! Why are you rubbing my head!”

Every goblin female who was older by at least a generation, but wasn’t called mother or Mother was called an Auntie. Tua could only be considered Wura’s cousin, but then again, everyone in the tribe was technically a cousin.

“The Great Mother knows, so you don’t need to show off to her,” said the older goblin matter-of-factly.

“But I want her to know that I know!” exclaimed Wura. “That was the entire point!”

Uma smiled a bit at the interaction and made note of the two women. Tua seemed like a reliable source of advice while Wura had a rare clever spark that impressed even Uma.

“Yes, like hunting wolves. Except, the tall-goblin is even more cunning and dangerous.” Uma affirmed Wura’s words, and added, “also, the tribe will be migrating to the summer grounds. If you return to find the camp empty, it means that we have already moved. Make sure nobody is following you when you make your way back.”

The four hunters responded affirmatively, and left with their equipment and a week’s worth of food; while its cleanliness was often questionable, water was plentiful in the climate the goblins inhabited. This was the first time the goblins had moved solely based on her decision, and so Uma sincerely hoped that they would come back safely.

It was twilight when the goblin war band finally returned to the tribe grounds, but it was not a problem for the goblins and Merr who had excellent night vision. Uma suspected she had lost the perception of a few colors in exchange for this wondrous boon, but it had been too long since she was a human to actually tell the difference, and she wasn’t the visual type so she didn’t really care that she may be colorblind.

The campsite had already been dismantled and packed up as per Goma’s orders, and all the goblin belongings were bundled up into tight packages and were ready for transportation. The Merrs which had followed the war band were loaded up to their absolute limits, and everything else had to be carried by the able bodied goblins, primarily the men.

But before the goblins set out, Uma called for the surviving members of the patrols, who had converged earlier to help with the battle.

“We need to send a message to the Rivercrest tribe and the Venomblade tribe and tell them what has transpired. I fear that there are more tall-goblins out there than we can even imagine, and we will need more comrades to help combat this threat. We will be holding a Pash at our summer grounds, and they are invited to attend.”

A Pash was a large inter-tribe gathering that could only be called by a High Priestess. It was a forum by which the more powerful goblin tribes could discuss territorial rights, clan mergers, and collective defense against dire threats, like troll incursions. Their tribe, also known as the Manimerr tribe by other goblins, was the largest goblin tribe in the area, but there were also two more of comparable size living a contactable distance away, and now was a time that demanded unity for their collective survival.

Many of the patrols were exhausted from the extremely long day they had to endure. They would wake earlier than other goblins, and had to fight as part of the war band against the humans. One of the more outspoken members of the patrol couldn’t help but voice her complaints.

“Great Mother, we are already very tired. Can’t we wait until tomorrow to set out?”

It was the first time Uma had been rebuked in her short tenure as High Priestess, but Uma couldn’t find the will to chastise the girl speaking out. Even she, who had a far superior spiritual strength, was starting to feel the lull of rest.

Uma thought for a moment before saying, “Take two of the Merr, and each messenger team can take turns resting on the animal. I understand that it’s been hard, but you are the ones that know the forest best. We cannot afford to delay our message.

Although the other tribes have their own patrols, if we can warn them earlier, they can be alert and have more time to plan. If we had known a half, or even a quarter day earlier, far fewer of us would have died. We need every ally we can get, so helping the other tribes to preserve their people will go a long way.”

Some of the patrol still looked reluctant, but they all understood Uma’s reasoning. Not even the hunters knew the land as well as they, and speed was of the essence here.

One of the leaders of the patrol took a deep breath, and responded affirmatively:

“Alright, it will be as you say Great Mother. We will go as fast as our bodies can take us.”

The messengers quickly vanished into the night just as the tribe had finished packing up. They, too, would be heading off at night to get head start on the humans, although probably at a much more manageable pace compared to what was demanded of the messengers.

Uma took one last look over the clearing that served as their spring home. She did not know how long it would take to return, for they would be heading deeper into the forest to evade the humans, towards their summer lands. Although the goblins were a semi-nomadic race, this land was still part of their traditional territory, and it just felt bitter that they would be chased from the place they’ve inhabited for generations.

When Uma first arrived in this world, there was a time when she thought that her new life would at least be stable, in the routines of the wilds. There was sadness at times, sure, but nothing which pressured Uma to change the way that she and the goblins lived as much as this.

Uma didn’t know if any of the other goblins had felt this, but the arrival of the humans had awakened a sense of existential threat. Hiding was only a temporary solution; the day that she would need to face the threat head on would eventually arrive.

She was not afraid though. As much as it had cost her, she was in the unique position where the limit of possibility was within her grasp.

We’ll be back.