The other goblins didn't know what to do.
They just… stood there.
Weapons half-raised. Eyes darting. Looking at each other like someone had unplugged the hive mind. Their chief—apparently—had my jagged blade kissing his throat, and none of them seemed eager to volunteer for "next in line."
The night stretched tight.
Then from the trees, yellow-orange hues flickered to life.
Torches.
The flames danced wildly, pushing back the darkness in ragged circles. Shadows stretched long and thin across rocks and shrubs, twisting the goblins into warped silhouettes. There was a burst of back-and-forth shouting from within the trees—harsh, guttural, incomprehensible. It sounded less like strategy and more like a chaotic family argument at dinner.
Then finally—
A torch popped out from the tree line.
It illuminated the clearing in jerking pulses of firelight—grass, stone, splintered branches, and me with my sword pressed against goblin neck.
Two older goblins emerged slowly from the forest.
Behind them followed more—some holding pointed sticks, others gripping rakes, crude spears, bent farming tools turned weapons. Several carried torches, their flames crackling and spitting sap-scented smoke into the night air.
"Please, good sir, no more blood spilling, I beg you!" the leading goblin pleaded.
She was old. Slouched. Draped in ragged cloth that hung like torn curtains around her thin frame. Her ears drooped. Her eyes, though dimmed by age, held something sharp.
Beside her limped another goblin holding a torch. His left arm was in a sling stained dark red. Cloth wrapped around his left eye, also soaked through. He kept pace despite the limp, jaw clenched, breathing hard.
"I am got it under control!" the big goblin under my blade barked, trying to sound authoritative.
I nudged the tip of my sword closer.
He gulped.
Under the moonlight, a bead of sweat rolled from his temple, slid down his green skin, and dripped onto the jagged edge of my blade.
"Not one more step or he gets it!" I said, letting my voice harden. "Trapping us won't be a good idea either."
The two elders stopped.
Behind them, the goblin mob snarled and growled, teeth bared, weapons shaking in nervous hands.
"Kkrrrraaaw!" the elder female growled sharply without even turning around.
Then louder—
"Stop!"
The mob continued their low rumbling hostility.
She slowly turned her head, glaring.
"But if you really wanted to die badly—go."
She stepped aside dramatically, motioning toward me as if presenting an exhibit.
"Go," she repeated.
That did it.
Several goblins visibly hesitated. One actually took a half-step forward before another pulled him back. A few lowered their weapons just slightly.
"Too much blood has shed," the elder continued, voice steady but heavy. "Our chief is dead. How much more do we wish to throw away to this madness?"
"Them kill us, we kill them!" one goblin shouted from the back.
"Yes!" a few others echoed.
"And then what?" she asked.
Silence.
A goblin scratched his head. Another looked at his friend. Someone shifted awkwardly.
"And then…?" she pressed.
Nothing.
It was painfully obvious none of them had thought that far ahead.
"Too much talking!" one goblin suddenly snapped and charged toward us.
He didn't even finish his second step.
"Ptew!"
Kala's laser punched a clean hole through the goblin's chest.
The body dropped instantly.
Dead quiet.
The goblins recoiled. Weapons went up again. Growling resumed—louder, angrier.
"Come on!" I shouted, shoulders protesting from holding my blade at this awkward angle for what felt like an eternity. "We don't have all night! Are we doing this or what?"
Honestly, at this point, the drama was killing the vibe. Part of me wanted to just fight them all and get it over with.
"Please, good hero—and oh, young mighty beholder," the elder goblin said, bowing slightly. "We do not wish to see more of our kin perish. We wish to have peace. Your kind attacked our dwelling and almost exterminated us. I beg you—no more."
Her words hit differently.
Your kind.
I had assumed they were just mobs. Creatures to farm for EXP and loot drops. Annoying little green inconveniences.
But they were… talking. Arguing philosophy. Pleading.
Sentient.
Great. Moral complexity unlocked.
My mind argued back fast: Bad position. Surrounded. Showing weakness equals risk.
"We did not attack your home," I replied calmly. Coolly. Honestly, I surprised myself. "And obviously, we did not attack first. But we will finish whatever this is."
Maaaan. I sounded cool.
My chest swelled a little. Hero vibes activated.
"Put away your weapons!" the elder shouted suddenly.
Some goblins lowered their sticks.
Others hesitated.
"Put away your weapons!" she repeated more forcefully.
She grabbed the ragged cloth of a goblin near her who was clutching a pointed stick like his entire identity depended on it. He bared his teeth, but one sharp hiss from her made him back down. He slowly lowered the weapon.
Alright.
They were listening.
I really didn't feel like fighting anymore.
Maybe… maybe I should lower mine too.
Diplomacy. Symbolism. Trust-building exercise.
"Kala," I thought.
"Yes, K?" he answered instantly.
"Stand down. But be cautious."
"You got it."
I slowly lowered my sword.
Then I shoved the big goblin—apparently still important—away from me.
He stumbled backward, tripped, and scrambled away toward the elder, dignity leaking out behind him.
"Great brain, Urkap!" he cried desperately. "Give me sword, we kill them!"
My awareness pinged.
Elder goblin identified: Urkap.
Urkap slapped the big goblin across the face so hard he spun.
"Ooouuuchhh!" it wailed, clutching his cheek before collapsing into a fetal position. "Why hurt?"
"I raised you better than this, Durbab!" Urkap snapped, raising her hand again just in case.
Big goblin identified: Durbab.
He flinched dramatically.
"All of you—come. Let's go home!" she commanded, waving her hand toward the forest.
The goblins obeyed.
Weapons lowered.
Torches lifted.
They began forming around Urkap.
Then she looked at me.
"Good hero, we wish to invite you to our home as our guest."
My brain short-circuited.
"Uhhhh."
They tried to kill us five minutes ago. Now we were… invited?
"Do not worry, hero. You have my word. No one will attack you."
I glanced at Kala floating beside me.
"What do you think?" I asked telepathically.
He stared at me blankly.
"I'm hungry."
…Seriously?
"That's your strategic assessment?" I thought back.
"I am very hungry," he repeated solemnly.
I opened my mouth to argue.
Then my stomach betrayed me.
Grrrrrrr.
Oh.
Oh no.
We hadn't eaten. Not since… I couldn't even remember. Adelaide. Running. Fighting. Nearly dying repeatedly.
I was hungry.
Badly.
Traitorous stomach.
"Uhhh," I said out loud, trying to maintain dignity. "Is there food?"
Urkap's eyes softened slightly.
"Yes. That we have. Come. Follow us."
She turned, then casually kicked Durbab in the back.
"Let's go."
Durbab whimpered and scrambled up.
And just like that, we were moving.
The goblins surrounded us—not aggressively, but close. Torches bobbed ahead, casting swaying light through the forest. Shadows crawled over tree trunks. Night insects chirped nervously.
Kala floated beside me, glowing faintly.
"You better not laser anyone at dinner," I muttered internally.
"No promises if they touch my food," he replied.
I sighed.
This day was unbelievable.
Ancient horrors. Near executions. Philosophical goblin debates. Now a midnight dinner invitation in the woods.
Honestly?
I just hoped they had something edible.
Because if this turned into another fight before I got a meal—
I was going to lose it.
And probably yell something dramatically heroic again.
But first?
Food.