Dear Diary, the humies write in these things. Why can't I use 'em too?

It's my first time writing something, or at least the first trying to share it, and so I'll do my best, both as a goblin, and as a... uhm... writer.

I'm sure you will help too.

A week ago, just after I was created, I attacked the village with the others. It was quite fun, and I took my first book. The others thought I was weird: it was not a piece of flesh and the skin in it wasn’t something I could use. I hate the fact that gobbos can take only skin or something to eat. But books don’t stink, and that one had interesting pictures. The voice in my head said: “take it”, I said: “Why not” and took it. Smart gobbos hear the voices. Smarter ones listen to ‘em.

I took the book, and the others took all the rest. Well, they fought, and I did too, but not like an idiot. The stupidest always stay on the frontline.

After the raid, I joined the bat-riders gobbos.

Day 1

Today the humies came directly into the den: hundreds of 'em, I was excited.

The more they are, the better the loot.

I was near the bats, as I usually am.

Our giant bats love large caves with open spaces. The bats told me that they can’t get out of them if the caves aren’t big enough. And our den is as big as a cave can be.

It’s at least as big as what the humies call a fortress, it has many tunnels and entrances, and the largest one takes directly to the outside, and it’s at least 50 humies wide. Saw ‘em, and counted ‘em, they were standing as the walkers gobbos in front of ‘em did, all grouped, like two, opposite, large herds of idiots.

Gobbos. These lowly things, I'm nothing like 'em, don't like 'em, and they don't like me: it's better that way. Being part of ‘em doesn’t suit me. I don’t even know why the shamans stay between ‘em.

At least I’m one of the bat-rider gobbos.

Anyways, all 15 of us, the bat-riders, had seen the humies from a distance as we started to approach them riding on bats. That was quite a view.

The humies in the frontline had shiny metal hats and leather armor, and formed 4 lines of 50 men each; all had spears, and all the spearheads were sparkling with the sunlight from behind ‘em. They were standing right at the entrance, with the gobbos in front of them, who were half the size of the humies but twice as many.

The 5th line had a bunch of archers, no more than 30, and 2 mages. They were shooting the gobbos in front of ‘em.

In the back of their formation stood the big prize: in golden armor, protected by 5 knights, and holding a banner similar to the one we had taken when I was one of the walkers gobbos.

Behind them it was possible to see the fields where there was the first village we attacked.

We had some black bombs with us. The stinkies gobbos made ‘em.

When we were 15 feet above the ground with humies below us, we let the bombs fall over the pack of idiots. And BOOOM.

The huge bats we were riding on were all frightened. Even I was. But the other batriders weren’t. The stupid gobbos left their mounts flying and jumped down shortly after the bombs. They wanted more loot.

Maybe they were right… I thought.

Most of the humies were dead.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The fight was easy… I thought.

I felt it in my gut: I must jump.

The voice in my head said : “Don’t”, after waiting a moment, I said: “Why not?” and jumped down.

As I was falling I heard other explosions. I hadn’t seen what mages can do when I went to the village because they weren’t there.

But, at the entrance of our den, they cleared all the gobbos below me with flames.

Interesting… Maybe I’m stupid as the other gobbos are… I thought.

Nope, impossible.

And then I landed.

The sight was the same as the one I saw after the BOOOM, when I was still up, in the air, on a mount, and quite safe.

Corpse everywhere, some still crawling. Both the humies and the gobbos troops had made a 50 men wide and 10 men long carpet. Red and shiny. Some carbonized.

On one side there were some humies with the spear, the archers, the mages, the one with the banner and the five knights.

On the other side, all the walking goblins of the den came out. They were a few hundreds, but they were each the size of one gobbo and half. Between them the goblin shamans, who were in the rank of the gobbos during the first carnage, were running behind the walking goblins.

My gut feeling, the one that made me jump down from the giant bat, disappeared.

I was the only one standing in the middle of the battlefield.

“Voice, I’ll see you in the afterlife” I mumbled in the middle of it, while the ranks of each army were readying to start a new assault.

“Not yet. You idiot…” said the voice.

“Take that shaman’s hat, and that staff.” I looked on the ground. There was a corpse with a mage hat and a staff. I took ‘em.

“What now?” I asked.

“Run!!” As the voice said it, I started running.

Looking straight in front of me I could see the humies’ arrows turning towards me.

You may ask: why did I see that, while I was running?

Well, I was running in the wrong direction. Yes the humies-direction.

If you are wondering: No, I did not die, reincarnate, or anything else. No miracles.

I was just too short for being hitten by an arrow that was directed behind me.

And luckily after the first volley of arrows and the second one I managed to turn back, run and squeeze in between the ranks of the goblins and reached the shamans of the tribe.

When they started chanting and raising their hands to a big circular green ring of liquid mana above them, all the other goblins started advancing, and I was moved by that gut feeling I had before, and started charging at humies like the walkers goblins.

“Not now” shouted the voice in my head.

And so my gut feeling stopped.

“Imitate the shamans” said the voice, and I raised my hands and arms to the ring of mana.

They arrived at least at the height of the elbow of two shamans near me as I’m quite on the verge of becoming a full fledged goblin, but I was still too short.

I repeated the words of the shamans.

Well, a few days and I will be a complete goblin. They are less stinky, less stupid, and taller. Quite better in my opinion. But still, most of ‘em are stupid. Some aren’t, and some won’t be, like me. Or so I thought.

And after a short while, the humies were all dead.

The Big Boss arrived, he had been waiting for the right chance to strike.

At least that was what he said.

He came up to all the shamans and me. He is a fat big goblin, he’s taller than all humans I saw, and holds a big mace the size of my body.

He is strong, very strong, or so I heard.

He saw me and grunted: “The new one?”

“Yes.” said the voice in my head.

“Yes?” said I.

"Mmmph” he grunted again. And then he went to the battlefield, as all the shamans and I followed him.

I could take all I wanted, as long as I was near him. And I took both the backpacks of the mages. They had only books inside them.

Even the shamans are stupid: they didn’t care to take what wasn’t shiny and didn’t even know what books were.

But the Big Boss saw me picking ‘em, stared at me and seemed troubled for a moment.

After a while, he returned to picking the corpses that had the most metal on ‘em.

I guess I was lucky. In one of the backpacks I found you, dear diary.

And here I am, in one of the tents of the shamans, writing on you.

You may ask how I even know how to write and read. I'll just say that the illustrated book was helpful.

Smart gobbos hear voices, smarter ones listen to ‘em. The voices said you could help.

I’m sure you’ll do.

Gob