Bob got lost far too easily. He had made the first mistake of any explorer not marking a path back. Reality had made it a personal mission to crush Bob's dreams of adventure. It was using the simple reality to destroy any hope in Bob's power fantasy. He made no preparations; had no proper tools and made no trail nor any note of the path he walked. Worse of all he dashed off into a foreign forest that he had no familiarity with. It was a suicidal decision and the tool of murder was annoyance via sound and pests.
It was far louder than expected. He had thought it would be simple. A quiet trot through the forest to maybe his first companion and his first victory. Just like it was in the anime and other fantasy media. Why would it be difficult to walk around in some woods? It was a foolish belief, and this world punished him for it. Bob could only grind his teeth as the natural orchestra sang into this new world. The birds were the strings pushing a strange tune of a vibrant tempo. The whistling winds were a swirling flute carrying the melody of the tune. White mist watched Bob's torment from the treetops a ghosty audience to his pain. Insects acted like a constant accompaniment, volvas chirruping and wailing. Last, large animals, dogs, foxes, and more cried out like brass completing the song.
But for Bob, the greatest musicians in the forest were the mosquitoes, as they decided to dirge just for him. But that was a happy accident for the mosquitoes. They have another job as his executioners. He tried to fight them off, flailing about through the clouds of black buzzing. However, every swing of his hands offered the mosquitoes more chances to feast. The only thing worse was his choice of footwear.
His sneakers were simple and cheap. Basic black composite leather with a basic rubber sole seemed perfect for activity. But the problem was the poor quality of his shoes and the rough, uneven terrain around him. Sharp rocks prodded on the bottom of his feet, scraping the bottom of his shoes. That and the sharp thistles that ripped the composite sides of his shoes, scarring them. Luckily, he wore sweatpants, stopping the mosquitoes from having a complete feast. However, it came with its consequences. The damned thing kept catching and making movement much worse. His pants clung to every branch, every thorn and weed. It made the walk much worse and far more difficult, but at least the insects did not roost on his legs.
The trees were giant arbiters of life within this forest. All seemed to bend around it from the brush's weeds, vines, and beasts. The ground was damp, drenched in the deep homey scent of dirt and earth. Moss, small shrubs, and other life in the forest thrived in the wet soil, dyeing the ground in their colors. Even the dead played a part, with large logs and dead plants laid uncared for as the living used them to further their own lives. But the terrain was against Bob, making his movement quite hellish. Fallen trees blocked his path, some rotten trees that gave out when Bob leaped onto them. Then the land being a disjointed mess covered in slick moss, gave Bob reason to hate it all. Wandering about desperately, he slipped, falling down a minor ledge. Another mistake.
I should have stayed home. Bob groaned, forcing himself up off the ground. He had already lost track of time, and now he even felt hungry. It was really a bad time.
How could he go back? Which direction did I come from? Bob complained in his own head. His head was ringing as he slipped about in the cool earth staining his shirt and face. Bob’s body ached. This amount of exercise was a shocking change to Bob’s withdrawn lifestyle. At least he thought there were no enemies around, he grumbled. Then a shuddering twig snapped behind him.
Slowly standing, he saw a rat. His eyes widened as the rat had not yet noticed him. It was huge, bigger than any rat he had ever seen before. About the size of a large dog, that rat seemed to have been chewing on a large red thing, with ragged black fur and constant squelching about some strange meal. The long tail was a red noodle that seemed to flick about with its focus on something. With the long claw and crimson teeth, it was clearly in its own world. Bob prayed it was some kind of fruit, but it was a fool’s prayer, and the forest laughed at the intruder.
A liquid leaked out onto the ground with a hellish scent up into the forest. Red fluid stained the ground and painted the beast's legs. It was blood flowing from some corpse, one that seemed to be human. Bob gulped, his hand wrapping around his knife to understand what exactly was in front of him. This was his life on the line, and he needed to strike first. With all the grace he could muster, he tried to stand up silently, only to step on and snap a twig. This alerted the monster to his presence.
Its beady eyes hated him and fear seemed to spark a new resolve in Bob's body. For the first time, Bob found the will to live. At that moment, Bob and that rat were bound by life's oldest scenario. They could either flee from each other or ignore each other. But that would not happen. The rat just saw another meal and charging forward at Bob biting at him. Bob narrowly dodged the rat's first attempt to bite off his face, leaping to the side. Sliding back, Bob could barely breathe as the beast wheeled quickly and charged back to him.
Bob’s hands were heavy, slow, and far too ineffective. He tried to slash it but the rat slipped it, nearly taking Bob's hand. Stabbing the blade forward, he hoped that would be enough. The blade found its mark in the beast's eye. Squealing, the beast broke the bob’s grip on the blade with a brutal shove. Bob swiftly shifted to the left as another bite took a bit of soil beside him. Bob quickly shuffled steps as the rat just kept trying, biting into his boot, ripping it. His right hand scraped across onto the ground as he simply gripped a stick. He swung it upward with all his strength. This blow forced the rat’s head upwards, forcing the knife to shake, pushing it backward a step.
Capitalizing, Bob slammed this new weapon down, slamming it down onto the rat’s head. With a mad savagery, he slammed the stick down again, to the squealing yelps of the creature. Bob had killed it with this blow. The adrenaline and desperation of a true predator pushed him. He had to ensure it was dead, and that urge blinded him. This continued for a minute until exhaustion stopped him. It was then he finally took a breath, observing his work. It was a brutal sight.
The body still twitched with its brain splattered on the ground. The blows deformed the rat's jaw, shattering it. The right eye was destroyed and the left eye was implanted into the skull by Bob's knife. Its own blood streamed downward, leaving the rat's last impression on the world. Bob shuttered, glancing at the rats’ former meal.
"Well then, it is one of those grim dark Isekai. Hopefully, there is only more violence, not other things.” Bob grumbled.
A short, faceless creature lay dead ten feet away from Bob. This sparked a debate in his head. Should he loot the body? Was it moral? Was it even dead? Bob thought about moving closer to it. He poked the stick just to check if it was truly dead. Thankfully, it was.
The rat mutilated the body. It was a short humanoid that died in worn discolored clothes that smelt like rotten molded meat. The little monster had a sword belt and gloves but it all looked horrible. It was worn dirty and discolored. The boots were strangely firm but still dirty and scared by forest travel. It seemed strong or at least fit with green skin laced with scars and brown gloves covering its hands. There was also a weapon, a strange blade that hung loosely from a worn belt.
That confused Bob, as he did not expect to find a dead body already. Sudden surprise shook Bob as he kneeled to this clearly inhuman creature. It would happen during his quest at some point, but it was far too soon. And a demi human too. Or was it? He could not tell at all. The body oozed fluids that wet the clothes, making the smell much worse.
“Green skin, I wonder. A type of lizard man? Strange beast man? Maybe a goblin. “Bob mused grimly. “Still, I should gather my stuff.”
Shaking, he turned back to the rat, reaching forward to the knife. He struggled for a moment to pull out the blade as it sat firmly in the beast's skull. However, Bob pulled out the blade, but the blade became drenched in rat blood, emitting an undesirable smell. Then he pulled the stick close, bracing on it, thinking about what to do next, glancing at the body. Should he take it? Surely he needs it for future battles.
“The first rule of RPGs is to always loot the body.” Bob justified his grave robbing. "Plus, it is a monster. This is a net positive."
Grumbling, he turned with a cold resolve. He needed better weapons, and surely the body had one. He barely needed a second to locate the weapon, swiftly grabbing and pulling it free from the dead. Like his class, it was a basic weapon and, hopefully, he would find others.
It was a rough weapon blade that was a kind of sword, but without a proper finish. It was about the size of Bob's forearm and roughly shaped in a crude triangle with a simple hard crossguard. The dull metal was covered in a simple black liquid that had no smell. Bob’s hand could barely hold the blade, his palm wrapping around most of the handle’s rough wrapping. He assumed it would be a kind of long sword to the creature, but for him, it was barely a dagger.
Stolen story; please report.
Honestly, this is kinda cool. Bob thought, twirling the blade around. He then saw the gold on the belt and looked away from it. It would be a waste to leave it. But he had no more pockets or free hands. This gave him a sudden idea of moving to a spot in the ground. Utilizing his knife and stick, he dug a shallow hole tossing the bag inside. Then he covered it the best he could. With an x marking the spot, he felt smart. Now He could always come back for it later.
Sighing, he turned unsure of what to do. How would he get back home? Glancing about, he looked for something to tell to guide him back. However, all he saw was a massive deer that stared at him. The white beast seemed out of place in the natural environment. It was like an angel with strangely intelligent eyes that seemed to connect with Bob’s mind. The hooves seemed to hover over the ground it stared at. His mind had realized that he was charmed and clearly under the sway of this beast. However, it was far too late and Bob became the beast's greatest fan. Thus, he simply followed the majestic deer.
Although the walk was just as difficult as before, all that mattered to Bob was the deer. How it smelled, the majesty of its walk, and the silkiness of the fur. Every step was beautifully overwriting the forest as it led him somewhere. This lasted thirty minutes, and it had led him to an opening in the forest that had smoke rising. Shaking his head, he felt the charm fade and shame fill his body. Bob rubbed his head, moving closer to opening, hoping this experience didn’t awaken something within him. Luckily his ears heard the gibbering and high-pitched voice of something alien. So as stealthy as possible he could muster, he crept closer to the monster conversation. As he grew closer, the voices became understandable and seemed to be within a worrying conversation.
“I told you Gray Blade is a bastard. He still has those slaves, but we still work in mines. And the hobgoblins are saying we have to conquer all the forest before the end of the year. Listen, the light damn near broke everything and made everything so much harder. Then there is that damn thing with those gold things.” One voice shrieked loudly from the distance.
“Yeah, it nearly took mi head. '' Another spoke in a softer high-pitched tone. “You gonna try to get out ?”
“No point,” replied another in a scuffed reply. “The hobs would just put us back.”
“How close are we to the source of gold bois?” mused the softer tone.
Bob laid his back on a simple tree as his eyes saw something familiar. His grandmother's house was close by, barely a few meters from the clearing. At any moment, they could find it and do something horrible to his grandmother and his house. He smiled for a moment as he realized this opportunity. It was his moment to shine. Finally, his true journey would start here. With a sudden burst of energy, he leaped out, jumping over to the group. It was then he realized what he was facing.
The first thing Bob noticed was the smell. Somehow it smelt worse than the dead body by the rat, and even more miasmic. It almost made him stop gagging under sudden shock, but the thought of what could happen pushed him forward. The second was the nose. The long hooked noses flared to reveal unkempt nose hairs that shook with each twitch. They had sharp teeth that desperately needed a dentist and a long tongue that licked the nose. Floppy long ears curled upwards in horror as they stared confused at Bob’s charge. Those crimson cat eyes widened in shock as Bob mass rocketed toward one, slamming it to the ground. It was then Bob noticed how small they were, barely child-sized, and the fact they were green.
The poor goblin flew two feet away, hitting its head on a stone. Then the remaining trio simply stood looking at each other. The two goblins crouched as low to the ground with their eyes firmly on the stranger. Bob, far more upright, aimed the stolen blade and stuck it forward at the two creatures that stared at him. Those goblins had grabbed their weapons, only small daggers they hid behind their backs. Normally they would have attacked, but clearly, the human was crazy or powerful.
“So human, you suicidal?” The gruff creature mused, standing up suddenly. Stretching its neck. It wore a loose scarf with a brown leather breastplate. Marching forward it moved toward Bob like a sarge heading to private. “Your form is all wrong, too.”
“Excuse me? Are you ?” Bob responded by attempting to shorten the distance to his home. “Wait, you guys are goblins right ?”
“Yeah. Do you think you're some kind of hero?” It responded. “Honorable guy and all that.”
“No, but do you?” Bob retorted, looking at the other one.
“I dunno, maybe we should go,” the other, much more timid goblin replied. “He can’t be that stupid to jump into a fight like this. “
Bob's eyes narrowed, wrenching forward as a new feeling sparked within his body. It was hot, like spicy pepper in his mouth, his face growing sweaty and coughing. Stumbling back, the braver goblin capitalized, thrusting its knife forward to skewer. It was then Bob burped, accidentally activating his power, which made a sudden burst of fire. This sudden power threw off the goblin’s attack and hit the goblin square in the face. It had set him ablaze, much to the shock of both Bob and the other goblin. They watched the other goblin as it then dashed off into the forest screaming in pain.
“So, “ Bob asked, “You want to fight ?”
The remaining goblin looked at Bob, horrified. A whipping from Gray Blade or the mines were much better than being set on fire. Doing its very best to seem submissive, it looked down grabbing a pack from behind a stump. Packing what it could, it slowly shuffled away from Bob.
“No Sir. I will just go if I can, " It said, stepping back.
Although Bob was tired and wanted a bath, he was sure he could defeat a mere goblin. Still, the risk was there and frankly, he could barely hold the blade up. Hoping he looked cool, he simply stared at it silently. Clicking his teeth, Bob grinning wildly doing his best manic expression.
“Sure. Go one then” Bob said, moving back but with his eyes firmly on the goblin. Thus the two left watching the other go. It was only when Bob could no longer see the goblin that he turned his back. Then sprinting as fast as he could back home, locking the door behind him. That was enough of a surprise for one day.
The first thing he did was drop his weapons. Clattering to the ground, Bob moved to the bath, pouring as much water as he could, along with soap and perfume. Then, after soaking, he scrubbed as much as he could. Once he cleaned himself, he got out of the tub, drying off with a towel. Bob finally smiled as the day's event finally solidified. He just had his first fantasy adventure and fight. Joy filled his mind as he moved to get something to eat, grabbing a small tin of sausage and a bit of bread. With a haphazard sandwich that had the bread slipping and sliding with every step Bob took, he moved to the couch.
His cheerful tune was a knockoff version of a random song as he simply sat down in the living room. The noble hero lounged on his couch with a simple sandwich at his side. Only managing two bites of the sandwich, exhaustion finally claimed him.
His eyelids slowly fell, as he slowly leaned forward. Yawning, He debated moving to his room but he just couldn’t manage it. His muscles were far too tense, stretching out seeking more comfort. Growing ever more tired, he had a simple thought.
Did I lock the back? Bob half mused, only to shrug. He could always check after a quick nap. Finally falling asleep, Bob dreamed of the marvelous adventures and glories he was yet to achieve. However, he did not lock the back door.
The goblin known as Jil” bili *Grinny slowly stood up with a concussion. Of course, she would never know what that was, only the throbbing pain of a blow to the head. The tiny form of the goblin stood out and was easy prey for any beast or bird. A wounded goblin in a wild forest had a short lifespan. Dusk was ending, and she was alone in pain. It was normal for her. Every goblin learned quickly how to manage a blow to the head. Rubbing her head, she looked at the foreign building that appeared one day. The tiny red eyes stared up wearily at the new castle; the building towering over her. Her hood was bloodstain and the gash on her head painted her naturally black hair red. The sword she had was still in the holder and her body was still in working order. She even had her boots on.
Thank Relolock. She thought. It could have been much worse. At least she was alive enough to be scared. Her nose had a slight crook and was damaged by the fall, but it caused no trouble. Goblin noses could take a beating without becoming useless, they merely bent under the pressure. Coughing, she looked about for her companions in a vain hope she was not alone. However, Jill was alone. As expected for a goblin.
Goblins were simple savages, and none really liked them, not even other goblins. They always put their own lives above anyone else, often to the detriment of any teamwork. Not that they were fools,in many respects, they were much more industrious than orcs and hobgoblins. However, they lacked bravery and often avoided any battle as best they could. The only thing worse was their teamwork . So they cheat. This was the reason that goblins were well known for mobbing, backstabbing, and the most dishonorable actions.
Kindness was also a rare trait in goblins, often beating out their masters, the world, or any goblins. Howling in pitches beyond the human ear Jil paced back and forth attempting to signal to her fellows. It was the goblin ears that allowed them to communicate in secret. What to others would be a large screaming would be a deep conversation between goblins, discussing their lot in life. Most of their gods were enslaved or bound to much stronger gods, including their own. It was beneficial sometimes. However, this leads to their constant fear often freezing when too confused. This instinct helped them avoid beating and bigger things but it also made being in fights much worse.
After thirty minutes of high-pitched yelping, she began to cry. Wet, messy tears streamed down her disgusting face, leaving slimy dirt trails. What else could she do? If she didn’t get back, the masters would kill her, but being in the wild, she would surely die. Sniffing, her natural instincts screamed at her to find cover and find somewhere to hide, but where? Grey Blade ruled the forest he would find her. She panicked. Well, there was one place her savage mind responded.
Turning to face the foreign building, she shivered in fear. The warrior could come back and he could find her ,she debated in her head. Or give protection. Her instinct responded. Her legs walked up to the strange gate, confused and scared. However, the howls of a large dire beast gave her motivation. Sprinting around the side she enters through a strange insection at the left; slipping inside the yard. It was clearly some ritualistic channel for blood, it would explain why that stranger so easily defeated her.
It was strange with things Jill had never seen. The ground was a black stone that smelt like the oil in the pit the orc would use to hurt anything. It smelt like burning leather and some meat; she kneeled scraping at it. It almost stopped her, but the further howl shook her mind free of the trap on the ground. Leaping back, she ran back onto the rocks that looked real. Strange-shaped stones littered the ground as a path, clearly for trapping fools. However, she was a goblin and far too nimble for such a simple trap. Moving as quickly as possible, she leapt onto the tiles.
Her legs slipped under the suddenly slippery feel of the tiles. It was so smooth and vivid, even better than the tiles in Grey Blade place. Skittering quickly, she moved to find the wall. She expected wood at best. But her hand felt cool, hard stone. Leaping back, she looked over like the forest, like the overseer. The sight was truly beautiful, seeing life and, for even a moment, being safe. This suddenly disappeared as she realized how exposed she was. Her mind raced, wondering what to do now. But then she smiled, her jagged teeth shining in the dusk sun.
She simply walked inside using the door, closing it behind her. Ensuring one’s own success and closing the way for others was also quite goblin-like.