Goblins have always been a tricky subject,
Like many races, such as minotaurs and orcs, the feral versions of them often led to negative connotations associated with these races.
Perhaps goblins had it the worst when the feral versions of them were most well know for their... breeding capacities.
All right, because they're pretty apt rapists and that they get spit out of the womb like there's no tomorrow.
And like many feral vs sapient creatures, there is an easy way to separate the feral from the not.
Sapient goblins have hair for one thing, and their famous features, those large noses and sharp ears are recessed a fair bit, still apparent by all means, but the difference is noticeable to any decent adventurer.
Oh, and they actually wear clothes, and not just loin clothes. Yeah, pretty obvious difference.
Their quality of life is also very different, as they live in decent settlements, and even have guard posts and walls. This is because sapient goblins live in places with higher mana, and while they are slightly stronger than average goblins, numbers are still their strength, so they rely on many tactics that align with humans.
It's not like sapient goblins don't do the rapey goblin thing, it's just not common amongst them, at least not anymore than it is among humans. And when they do, it's more like slaves than just a tool meant for use.
Sapient goblins live for 20 years, a far cry from the 10 year lifespan feral ones live.
So yes, it is pretty obvious how to differentiate as long as you look.
And so Grant looked, as he slit the throat of the first goblin he killed.
It was a quick kill.
doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Grant thought silently as he quietly sneaked behind a goblin on the outer rim, the closest thing to a border guard. Once behind it, he said the last word it would hear.
"Boo."
Slick
It didn't even have a chance to register the words as the tarantula hair slid into his neck, immediately poisoning and killing the goblin.
The tarantula gauntlets had the neat benefit of shooting needle-like hairs, perfect to dip in poison and fling at people. Or stab them, since it injects all the same.
"It has a shirt..."
A scavenged one admittedly, he noted as he quietly dragged it off and dropped it behind a tree.
Sure, he could burn them, but in times like these where he's basically pulling a hitman, he decided to instead just hide the bodies.
Worse comes to worse, they find the bodies, surround him, and he then bodies them. Oh well, game over.
After slitting four more throats, he confirmed many were wearing shits. No pants unfortunately, but he suspected those were more difficult to scavenge, or perhaps they couldn't be bothered. Who knew.
What he did suspect however, was the involvement of a higher race. Maybe a feral goblin shaman, or a sapient goblin, orc even.
Feral shamans are still feral, but just like feral goblins, there's a set amount of knowledge inside their blood, bloodline inheritance, hence how feral goblins are able to even competently build basic shelters in spite of their stupidity.
And feral goblin shamans are a step above them, acknowledging the concepts of shirts, and higher up the rank feral goblins understand higher concepts, but ultimately, do not actually understand them.
The difference between an ai and a human Grant supposes. They may know, but they do not truly understand, and thus can't really build on these concepts.
As a result, Grant never really held the actions of feral goblins against them, since ultimately, they're just doing what they've been instinctually driven to do, like beasts.
So far, Grant is leaning on goblin shaman, since the level of competency wasn't that high.
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There were orcs too, maybe 1 to every 20 goblins that existed in the area, those pig-faced bastards.
Unlike the goblins however, he pocketed those for later use, since feral orcs taste like quality pork.
Not sapient orcs though, those taste more like people.
Looking through the numbers, Grant did have some suspicions, but he decided to continue investigating.
No women so far.
That could be a bad thing, or a good thing, depending on circumstance.
Grant wasn't here to save them, so much as enjoy himself, but hey, he may as well help them since he can.
Eventually, he came to a giant structure, something that had been hastily hidden by an illusion magic spell.
It was in fact, one of the reasons he was more inclined to feral goblin shaman than sapient goblin, since he had noted early on the traces of poorly crafted magic covering the area, something equivalent to this world's five star magicians.
So as far as he saw it, the illusion was rather flimsy, only spared destruction because he wanted to avoid alerting the whole of the goblins for now.
No point in doing the spy thing if he wasn't going to try.
It wasn't hard to slip through the illusion, and once he did, he found a shelter significantly more complex than the ones outside, which were mere mud huts.
It was a log house. Basic, sure, but it did certainly get him to reevaluate the possible leader.
Maybe sapient goblin shaman, or even a feral orc shaman.
Grant pondered this as he walked into the log house, his face turning into a grimace as he looked at the carnage.
He wrinkles his nose.
It's gross killing goblins mid-coitus after all.
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After he finished killing the ugly little critters, the women who had been captured had shown various emotions, from joy to relief, anger to hopelessness, and some even tried to take their own life.
pap
pap
pap
pap
They all got a quick hit on the neck and a quick route to sleepy time.
Grant had thought himself finished with all the important tasks at the moment, but he noticed another section.
A door, leading to another room, where the scent of blood was strong, and the aura of pain and agony bled through.
Clearly, he had missed something.
The sounds of struggling could be heard from behind the door.
Curious, Grant opened the door, finding... a child.
Not a human one though.
An ogre child was bound before him.
Orc's evolve into ogres, where their skin takes on a reddish tinge, and they become more human-like, a jump from the sapient orcs, who also looked more human than hobgoblins and goblins.
Their canine fangs recede a great deal, no longer protruding from their mouth, but east to see when one looks in their mouth.
Horns begin growing on their head, a signal of their future evolution into an oni. Stubbier for sure, but the horns were developing.
None of this mattered to Grant however.
What mattered to him was that the kid was in chains; when goblins usually killed kids, monster or not.
They had chosen to bound this child.
Etchings were written on the child's flesh, seemingly taking the form of a magic circle.
They looked painful, dried blood surrounded these spots.
The child, restrained by chains, lunged at him, baring his teeth.
The eyes were filled with rage, the azure eyes filled with fury.
But in those very eyes he saw something else.
Deep inside those eyes... was agony, despair that a child shouldn't have.
Grant could barely hold himself back, and yet did so, for the child in front of him.
The room was filled with remains, parts strewn all over the place.
What really stood out to him was a basket with assorted body parts, that chilled him.
Not because it was body parts, no.
The body parts were red, the very same color tone as the child's.
One finger stood out, a ring sitting upon a ring finger.
Grant reached for a finger, holding it up to the boy, causing the boy to flinch, to move backwards
The boy stared at the finger, as hatred and anguish swept through the child's eyes, and yet desire persisted as well, not hunger but longing. Throwing the finger aside, Grant touched the child's head, as the child struggled, lashing out in his pain, but Grant pushed through that, sifting through the surface memories of the child.
It was clouded, distorted, quick jumps of memory, the type of thing only people have truly suffered ever demonstrated, when their mind undergoes great stress.
-Fed---Mother-Father--Shaman--- Monster---Scary!----Alone...
Thought's flew through the child's mind, fleeting, but enough for Grant to get the picture, as his face twisted, and anger bubbled to the surface.
Even as the goblins began surrounding the log house, Grant paid no mind, as his anger grew greater and greater as he saw the crime done to this child.
They may just be feral beasts, but the one behind this...
...He would pay
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-Many years ago-
-They're beautiful.
-Of course! We made them after all!
-Hmmph. What do you want to name them?
-I want to name the girl Cleo! After a famous queen I read in one of my father's libraries! So that she may grow to be a smart and cunning woman
-Then I will name the boy Ulfbragi, the wolf of Bragi, may he speak well, and may you always bring joy to those around you with your words and companionship.
-Tch, what an exaggerated name
-I would say the same thing, given you've named the girl after a ruler. Who's family name should they inherit?
-... yours
- Then they will be Cleo Thorsten and Ulfbragi Thorsten
-Thorsten... I like it
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~900 years ago~
Do you know why you lost them?
It was because you were weak.
Content to stagnate, content to remain weak, for you had nothing to protect, nothing to lose.
But when the day came and you had something to lose, you didn't have the strength to protect that which you cherished most
It was foolish, and you moved too little too late
But now, now you have the will, the determination
What will you do to take back what you've lost?
To avenge yourself?
- Flamel