The fight began instantly with two dagger goblins rushing the human that was preparing the food. To my surprise it was an even fight for a while, if you ignored the fact that the human was fending off two goblins with just a ladle. The sound of metal clashing quickly alarmed everyone in the camp.

I turned towards the other two goblins as they finally reached one of the startled sleeping girls and jumped on her with dagger and claws, just to get repelled by some round and translucent energy field. A shield I supposed and reveled for a moment in just how fast my thinking was going at the moment.

As I was going to act and rush into the battle, I noticed that I didn’t know what to do. Helping the humans was the obvious choice for me, years of being one still ingrained deeply in my mind. My instincts for their part pushed me to help the goblins.

The fight was in stalemate that was slowly tipping towards the goblin side as their enemies were simply too underequipped to deal with their vicious and relentless attacks. Their uncaring nature meant that little wounds didn’t scare them and their single-minded focus made them ignore the fact there was magic preventing them from harming the girl.

That was until the ladle human finally reached his sword and with a quick glance towards the mage girl, they began their counterattack.

“Dodge!” I yelled on instinct and one on each of the two pairs of goblins reacted in time. The other two died instantly, one beheaded the other crushed under the force of some magical spell.

Then my instincts took over and I threw my spear, aiming towards the warrior’s legs to try and stop him from reaching the now scared and running goblins.

To my utter surprise the warrior extended his hand towards my actually perfectly aimed spear and caught it midflight.

“Run! Hide!” I yelled as I began leave as fast as my legs could take me. As a reward my face got grazed by one of the warrior's spears.

Luckily his spear was properly made and maintained so it didn’t break so I took it and kept running. I kept running even as I heard the other two goblins give their final death wail. I kept running even as my legs burned and the panic finally caught up to me.

I found a river and simply jumped into it, letting it take me in its stream for a while. Then I steeled my resolve and stayed underwater, using the spear that I wedged between some rocks to stay still. Then I began counting seconds while holding my breath.

Seconds turned to minutes and after twenty minutes the adrenaline finally wore off completely. My mind started to wander to my past life and just how out of my comfort zone I was.

Coming from simply office worker with very little skills related to surviving, fighting or even some kind of deep knowledge of fantasy. Just basics, lots of basics and superficial knowledge that was completely and utterly useless, at least for now.

Now here I was, having killed sentient creatures just to survive and willing to even put a spear through a man’s leg after being part of the ambush group. What a wild ride that was.

“Time to step up my game” I thought to myself “There was less than a finger of distance between that spear and my death and I can’t stop thinking that maybe I’m acting too carefree unlike how I used to be. All that anxiety, double and triple thinking, suddenly gone was making me make mistakes, dumb ones. It would have been easy to make rules with my party, make them follow my command or even have simple hand signals. So many things I could have done in hindsight.”

Then it struck me and suddenly all made sense. This was the goblin way. React and adapt against whatever it is thrown at you. Humans plan and learn easily from their and other’s mistakes, goblins simply die without learning much because they simply jump into action without a second thought.

No more, time to stop that from becoming normal. Yes, it was probably just me trying to convince myself, but no time like the present to make changes.

--

I stayed around half an hour under the water and it felt as if I could have stayed even longer. There was some inkling of panic at drowning, but whatever goblins were made off it gave off resilience beyond the norm.

I slowly moved away from the river, eyes stinging from the morning sun. It felt like when your face is suddenly assaulted by a flashlight at the middle of the night, just permanently and with little chance of my eyes to adjust. Goblin senses are too strong.

Luckily, I didn’t feel too cold and my sense of smell was slowly getting more and more comfortable with the overwhelming sensation. Focusing on specific smells was making it easier.

Also, after taking that good soak inside the river I didn’t smell like shit anymore. In fact, goblins didn’t smell too strongly. Maybe the bad smells help them find each other? I sure hope it’s not that.

I decided to move towards the den, but stopped a few minutes into my trek. Again, instincts kicking in, telling me exactly where I had to go to reach home.

Focusing myself on that I could sense as if my nose and memory was guiding me towards that place. So, feeling a bit more in control of myself I decided to move towards the clearing the adventurer were using.

I had a feeling that after smelling them so close last time I could probably tell if they were still there or already left before getting there.

They had already left, after pilling the four goblin corpses. They took their ears and probably tried to burn the corpses but ran out of time to start their travel, or maybe some religious thing.

There was also some clothing, cloaks and a tent left there. It was full of goblin blood and other internals, probably from the one the mage killed.

I sat there for a while, feeling emotionally tired. They died so easily; those adventurers will probably forget them soon. How can I even give them some kind of respects? Mourn their deaths or even give them some kind of prayer if they didn’t even have a name.

It was sad. To die after surviving the chief war in the den, surviving the starvation of being the smaller batch.

Maybe goblins as a whole deserved the hate they get, but this group in specific never did anything wrong. Yes, they attacked first, but when it is that or die to the bigger goblins and without anyone telling them what to do...

Guilt once more made me cry. I hoped that it was just the goblin body making my emotions more intense, but deep down I knew it was not.

--

I did the best I could burying them. The hole was not too deep, goblin claws are good, but my young body was still not used to heavy workloads. Still, it was better than simply rotting and being eaten by who knows what. I finally put the three daggers and my old spear above the grave, not knowing what else to do.

Then I took the clothes and tent towards the river to clean them.

There was a hooded cloak with a blackish purple color, which made me wonder if the color purple was just as rare and pricy as it once was back in my previous life Middle Ages.

After some teeth cutting, I made it more my size, leaving it a bit long because I had a feeling my growth was not yet over. The remnants became a good-looking loincloth.

The tent took a lot of time to cut as it was made of some kind of leather, but with that and the other clothes I quickly made a bag that I kept under my new hood. The rest of useful parts safely hidden inside of it.

I decided to go back towards the den after securing some food. The adventurers made me realize I was not ready to tackle this new world at all. So at least, if I managed to stay back there, I might be able to train and grow safely.

Managing to pilfer some eggs, find a half-eaten deer carcass and more of those weird round fruits, I arrived at the den in the middle of the night of the next day.

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The seasoned hunter was standing there, probably guarding the place and he looked at me carefully.

“The group?” He asked as he squinted his eyes.

“We found-” I stopped myself from using words I didn’t know at all yet “-taller creatures wielding better weapons and bright lights. I got this spear and some of clothes, the others did not survive.”

He snarled “Damn, we need to stop losing able hands. That damn fat pig.” He said the last bit too low to hear, but his lips were easy to read. “Go inside, keep the fruits.”

As I stepped into the den, I was glad I had some meat before arriving.

--

The younger goblins were weary of me now. I was among the few that had some kind of clothing or armor. That and my spear was a lot more robust than the ones the common goblin could get.

Chief Gortag simply laughed and told me that “No amount of clothing will make you wide enough pipsqueak Gyhiehiehie”. With that I was dismissed and finally free of the weight of proving myself to the stronger goblins.

I made my way towards the elder room, gave him a few fruits with a nod and almost fell face first into the ground from exhaustion.

Turns out not sleeping for way over a day is not healthy for goblins.

--

I woke up in a corner of the room, behind some of the tribal clothing and wood carvings of the elder. I could hear the elder answering questions and explaining words to the newest batch, so I decided to simply go back to sleep.

--

The second time I woke up was to the elder moving the wood inside the brazier, the fire sputtering for a bit before calming down.

I was a bit nervous knowing that I had to asks some important questions to the elder, as I didn’t trust any other goblin to know, care or answer much.

With nervous steps I approached and cleared my throat, though the sound that came out was more like a growl. “Elder, I need to ask some questions.” That part was easy, it was the same way I asked questions about the words we used. “What do we do when... some of our kind dies? Do we leave them behind? Bring their bodies? Bury them? I do not know what to do after losing my group.”

Yeah, that could have gone better. Nervousness sure messes up even the all-mighty goblin brain, but with that began the most nerve-wracking stare contest of my life.

I don’t know how much time has passed when the elder finally smiled. That toothy grin that would scare most humans back in my world was just as creepy.

“It seems we have to speak a lot.” He said as he scratched under his chin. “Not now. During the next raid, when the chief is not around. Then you can come to me, and we will speak without risks.” Then he turned around, back to tending his fire.

I was left with many doubts about what the elder wanted to tell me. My questions still burning in my mind.

I stared at the old goblin for quite some time and noticed something. He was not even squinting at the sight of the bright fire.

--

Days passed in a more comforting routine. Training, fixing my clothes and getting more food for me and the elder was common.

I changed my routine to practice with the spear, adding kicks, knees, elbows and even shoulder charges into my repertoire. Thankfully I didn’t need too much guidance, at least for now, for the most basic stuff. The ability to simply repeat stuff until I find some way of doing it was wonderfully useful when I could repeat moves from movies.

Not that it made me look cool, because any fancy move I tried ended with me eating shit on the ground. I could almost swear I heard the elder chuckle a couple times.

I also stole some needles and thread that some fatguard (which is how we started calling collectively the ‘royal guards’ of Chief Gortag) kept for himself, probably because it was shiny and soft.

With that I managed to make some bracers to protect my forearms and shins with the remnants of the leather tent. I also put some around my abdomen, just enough for some comfort because the vivid memory of the old vest saving my life was still fresh.

I also started going outside just to escape the stench, walk around, and pretty much just relaxing outside. I even managed to start talking with the seasoned hunter and found out his name is Tolio after I told him mine.

After that he gave a few tips about hunting which was enough to bring some meat to the den.

Life was pleasant enough to calm myself. Until I noticed that I have never cooked any of the meat I have eaten. I have been eating raw meat without even flinching and it makes me worry about my sanity so much I decided to simply ignore that and put it with the rest of my existential problems in the darkest corner of my mind.

--

The relaxed lifestyle ended quite quickly. My back now hurts every day because for some reason I grew taller than most goblins, and being taller than an older or stronger goblin was a quick way for getting shanked, bitten or clawed to death.

So, I was now hunching enough to appear smaller, aided only by my hooded cloak.

Goblin status was a pain in my back.

--

One of the main hunting parties came with a whole stag and the chief let everyone get their share from it, which slowly turned into a party when the fatguards took out some buckets with some old round fruit in it.

It smelled rotten, but also a bit like rancid wine. The taste mattered little when goblin stomachs could easily withstand whatever you put in them, and I quickly discovered our livers hold no superior resistance.

Drunk goblins are silly, with crude jokes flying around and everyone bullying each other in turn. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe some of those jokes were actually fun, in any case I did laugh a lot.

Especially when the fatguards started laughing at how the chief had designated a goblin as his back scratcher because his fat didn’t let him reach his back.

It was a really fun way to bleed away all the stress of the past weeks. Watching silly goblins being just that, instead of the mean murder happy creatures they usually were.

By the time some goblins managed to pull out some drums there already was a big fire going right outside our cave, and with that the dancing, chanting and laughter redoubled.

It was a big party all night long. Some of the goblins that were unconscious because of the booze woke up for the second half and by the dawn everyone was happily tired, drunk and well fed.

I couldn’t shake some weird feeling, like when you are being watched. The only reason I didn’t shake it off was because I could tell Tolio the hunter, even in his drunken state, was looking around constantly.

--

The rest of the week after the party I had a lot of troubles sleeping. The elder without much warning told me to find somewhere else to sleep for a while.

I found a relatively clean spot to sleep a bit away from the older ones but close to the younger goblins. Any other place would be prone to get me into trouble as age and experience was a big deal around here.

Still, it was a lot of work to fall asleep and was easier to simply stay half-awake even as tiring as it was to be constantly vigilant.

It did save my life when some upstart youngling tried to stab me one night, but a quick kick, and some growling while standing straight on my full height was enough to tell him and the rest of the goblins around to stop messing around.

I was so glad my instincts were reliable enough to do make me do that kind of stuff for me. I couldn’t imagine the old office worker ever kicking someone and intimidating a crowd.

--

After another month I felt like my height finally stopped. My back was getting used to my hunched position, but still I could tell I was twice as tall as the fatguards and three times taller than the regular goblins.

Having to show myself smaller took a lot of learning. Trial and error made me start using not only my legs but my long arms (a bit longer if you think about proportional goblin bodies) to help me move around. It gave me this air of feral beast, like gollum but less ugly.

The elder renovated his cave, dividing parts of it with totems carved in wood and a mismatch of old and new clothing sewn together in makeshift curtains. It was nice for the eye of the young and learning goblins as they didn’t have to stare at the burning fire in the center directly.

I was allowed to sleep there once more after promising the elder to not go over his things. The fact that he took my word as if I was some kind of honorable creature and not a goblin was heartwarming, so I started bringing even more food to the elder than before.

After that was done, I finally started working on my first few plans. For one I had to actually explore deeper into our cave as most of the areas I used to creep around were the ones closer to the main opening.

There were a dozen caves, some carved and some natural, that were close to the entrance and were living places for everyone, plus the more hidden baby room and food storage.

My exploration ended quite early as the only way deeper was beyond the “Throne Room” that housed Gortag and his fatguards so that way was blocked for now until I could secure some reassurances about my stealth skills. I did hear faint baby crying and some more feminine noises that only piled more and more questions for me to ask to the elder.

So, with my exploration over I decided to snoop around the storage room instead of just taking the food that was around. Inside I found some old boxes too heavy for me to move alone. Inside most of them were just clothing and some silk weave.

I almost started drooling just by thinking of what I could do with my new loot.

The final box was another jackpot. There were weapons, lots of weapons. Hammers, swords and daggers. I noticed most of them were quite unfinished, some even just the blade without the handle or lacking the edge where they should have it.

Inside that box I saw this weird looking blade, almost two feet long with handle half as long. The blade was as if someone tried to make a dagger and messed the proportions and made it big. Or maybe a sword that came simply too short?

In any case the blade was thick and wide ending in an incredibly sharp point, yet the rest of the blade was most likely unfinished, lacking any kind of edge to it.

I wondered if it was a goblin thing to crave loot this much? Because when I came to my senses, I was stealthily making my way away with a bunch of silk and the dagger-sword hidden under my hood.

--

I used the silk to make some more comfortable underwear. The elder kept looking at me as I worked in his cave. His intense look only stopped when I made him his own underwear.

That was interesting.

After that I used the last bits of leather to make something like a scabbard for the sword. It was ugly, like every other piece of clothing I had made, but for now it was practical enough to suffice.

--

I sleeping peacefully in the elder room when I heard a stomach-churning wail. It was almost an exact copy of the goblins that died from my group during that first hunt.

I shot up and instantly looked around, more than a bit disoriented from waking up like that.

“An invasion.” The elder added walking towards me from his side of the room. “I heard magic chanting echoing before. Probably elves or humans.”

“Adventurers” I said and the elder gave me a quizzical look before nodding.

“Stay hidden, you are still too young to fight.” That was true, I saw a goblin ambush barely scratch a group before and I shuddered just by thinking how strong they could be if prepared to fight.

Then I heard the baby goblins cry and I remembered that only happened to me when we saw light. I didn’t hear what the elder said as I was already sprinting into the darkness.