Glub was a Goblin. A Goblin who was recently named for his scouting efforts and for surviving another year of living in this harsh world.

The morning after the naming ceremony was relatively normal, albeit there was the issue of several hung over Goblins. Which was a rare thing. Goblins usually did not drink alcohol. Nor did they frequently party. It wasn't that Goblins did not like to party. Far from it. But it was just that there was often little to celebrate. And besides if they partied all of the time, they'd probably all be dead in an ambush.

Glub had awakened at his usual time, having not partaken in the mass drinking. He was one of the few Goblins waking before the dawn to get to work. Goblins were not lazy creatures. They could dream of being lazy. But only dream. A lazy Goblin was a dead Goblin.

So Glub woke up and made himself a busy Goblin.

He was a Level 2 Scout. Which meant he did scout... things. He was sure he wasn't very good at scouting if he was only Level 2. But then again, most Goblins didn't rise above Level 10. Most requiring to Rank Up into a Hobgoblin like the Chieftain. The Chieftain hadn't really explained to Glub what a Scout was or what a Scout was supposed to do. Though the Chieftain had sent him out into the wilds to look for potential food and dangers. So Glub assumed that is what a Scout was. Someone who scouted.

Glub was a Goblin born into the Bitter Bow Tribe with the Scout Class. A Goblin tribe well known for poisoning their arrows as well as having the best Goblin Archers this side of the mountains. At least that is what their Chieftain told them. And Glub and the rest of the tribe believed him. Even though they had never met another Goblin tribe. They believed their Chieftain because he was the Chieftain. Goblin rule was simple. Obey the Chieftain. Protect the Chieftain. And the Chieftain was responsible for the tribe.

So if the Chieftain told Glub to find food and enemies. Glub would do just that.

The Bitter Bow Tribe was located near a swamp. Some mountains were visible. There was a road nearby that Humans liked to use. And there were lots of trees. Let it be known. Goblins were not the best at geography, not traditionally at least. A Goblin would always be able to navigate the land. But if you asked a Goblin where the nearest city was or what continent they were on? Expect a slow scratching of the head and a shrug.

The Bitter Bow Tribe didn't have very many Scouts. Which made Glub's job all the more important to the tribe. Or so Glub liked to believe. He didn't interact much with the other Scouts. The Chieftain sent them off in different directions anyways. Except for the Scouts near the swamp. The Chieftain always had them going off in pairs in case they happened into a bad run in with the nearby Sneaky Swamp Tribe. Apparently the Chieftains did not get along. Glub hadn't been alive for it. But older Goblins remember skirmishes between the two tribes near the swamp. For years now, neither tribe had come across the other. Glub wondered if the Sneaky Swamp Tribe was extinct. The Chieftain didn't seem to think so.

And out of all of the Goblin Scouts in the Bitter Bow Tribe.

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It just so happened that Glub was the Goblin Scout who was sent towards the road. The Chieftain had told Glub about the previous Scout assigned to the road. Killed by adventurers. Humans. When the Goblin Scout hadn't returned to the tribe the Chieftain himself went out to look, finding a headless Goblin corpse on the side of the road. Despite having a name, Glub probably didn't look that different from the previous Scout assigned to watch the road. Glub being the same as an average Goblin, roughly four feet tall, green skin, pointed noses and faces, long and pointed ears, eyes that glowed in the dark, and little to no hair.

Glub was practically naked except for a small loin cloth hanging from his waist. Few Goblins in the tribe had anything more than a simple loin cloth. Even the Chieftain only wore a loin cloth. Some of the females had a little more to cover themselves but Glub didn't know why. Sometimes he wished he had armor or something to protect his legs while he was walking through the woods. Or at least something to protect his male parts.

The woods surrounding the Bitter Bow Tribe and the road was filled with hostile plants. Plants with thorns. Plants with poison. Plants that would snare and strangle unsuspecting prey. Plants that ate small animals including Goblins.

Glub hated poison plants the most. They made his legs and privates unbearably itchy. Every other plant was easy to avoid because there was obvious signs of an abnormal plant.

See a plant with red or purple flowers? Thorn Plant. See a vine with bright blue and pink flowers? Snare Plant. See a very big flower with roots coming out of the ground in odd circular patterns? Eater Plant.

It was easy to see the differences. Or maybe he had an easier time of it because of his class. He was a Level 2 Scout. Scouts were supposed to see danger right? So... with more levels he could see even more danger?

Speaking of danger...

This part of the woods looked very familiar to Glub. As it should. He's been walking along this route for months now.

Glub clambered over a massive tree root and jumped over the waiting Eater Plant. He would jump over the hungry vegetable and carry on his journey just like he did every day. The odd roots surrounding the flower leapt upwards, trying to grab at the prey it sensed. Only to miss by an inch just like always.

However. Glub hit the ground on the other side of the Eater Plant and tumbled. A root shot out and wrapped itself around Glub's foot, finally having caught this elusive Goblin meal after all of this time.

Glub felt the Eater Plant pulling him backwards. Glub turned his head and screamed as the Eater Plant opened up and revealed rows of sharp green teeth.

Another root grabbed onto Glub's leg.

Glub sat up and began to claw at the roots with his claws. His nails and fingers began to bleed, but he was tearing well into the roots. He doubled over and bit at the roots with his naturally sharp Goblin teeth. The root let go and wriggled in Glub's mouth. Glub held on and bit harder until there was a loud snap and the root broke off inside Glub's now bleeding mouth.

The Eater Plant recoiled, withdrawing its remaining root and leaving Glub alone.

Glub sat there. Watching the Eater Plant and chewing on the root. It was hard and very crunchy. Glub frowned and spat up the root. A small and curved dagger like tooth was lodged into the side of the chewed root. Huh?

He looked up and stared at the trembling Eater Plant. Then he looked up into the sky through the treetops above and smiled. It was rare for a Goblin to escape an Eater Plant and live. If Glub got away from one by only losing a tooth?

Glub felt at his bleeding mouth and spat up some more blood.

It could be seen as a sign of bad luck. After the hundreds of times Glub had jumped over the same Eater Plant without getting grabbed. Only to be grabbed today. But he had been caught and he had escaped. A Goblin's natural talent when faced with overwhelming odds. Glub considered that today was shaping up to be a very lucky day.