by Pirateaba
“Ur.”
The girl turned in fright. A Goblin was glaring at her. She turned to run, but he wasn’t raising his sword to attack. Instead, he was pointing.
What? The monster girl looked around wildly, and then realized.
She was in the way! She was blocking the doorway! The Goblin edged by her as she scrambled aside. She looked fearfully at him, but he just snorted at her and marched out the doorway. He came back in a few moments later with a pot he’d filled with fresh snow. He glanced at her as he walked back towards the fire, but did nothing else.
They didn’t care about her. They didn’t fear her or—or her face. The idea struck the creature dumb with shock. She watched, awed and amazed as the Goblin with the pot hung it over the fire. The snow began to melt in the pot, and she realized they were going to make dinner.
From what? The thing looked, and saw something lying in a corner of the room. Were those rags?
No. Bodies.
Suddenly, her heart froze in her chest. The monster stared as one of the Goblins approached the corpses of Humans and one Goblin, knife in hand. That was right. Goblins ate the dead, even their own.
They were monsters just like her.
Suddenly, the horror felt a pang in her stomach, and realized she was starving. Even if she forgot for a moment, she was always consumed by it. The unrelenting, unending emptiness in her stomach.
She stared at the corpses, salivating quietly. She longed to eat the frozen bodies—even if they were rotten and foul. She would eat her own kind, even though her soul revolted. She would eat the Goblins too, and her own flesh it if meant filling the hole inside of her.
The monster edged towards the pile of bodies. Food. The Goblins were looking at her now and then, but they wouldn’t stop her, would they? It was food. If they stopped her, she would bite them, tear at them. She had to eat. She was so hungry—
Her jaw opened. The thing reached for a body, and then saw something move towards her. Something big.
She turned, and saw the Hobgoblin stand up. He’d been sitting quietly amidst his fellows while they worked, helping to chop wood into smaller bits to feed the fire, but now he stood. He was clearly the leader of the group—even the former young woman knew that. She’d heard tales of Hobgoblins, feared even by Silver-rank adventurers for their strength and cunning in battle.
And now he was looking. At. Her.
The Hobgoblin grunted as he slowly walked over to the monster. She stared up at him, awed by his sheer size. He was massive, tall as a tall Human man, and far wider. But all that flesh wasn’t fat—it was muscle, rippling, tough, raw—
She tore her eyes away from his body. Fearfully, the monster girl retreated a bit. What was he going to do? Was he going to—
The Hobgoblin pointed at the thing and it—she—froze, about to dart away, back into the darkness of the city. But he didn’t grab for her. Rather he opened his mouth and spoke.
“In.”
It was a word! An actual word! The young woman froze, eyes wide. Goblins could speak? He could—speak?
Yes, he could. The Hobgoblin concentrated, frowning mightily. He forced out more syllables, his voice thick with concentration.
“Inkreepr. You. You innkreeper?”
Innkeeper? The girl had no idea what he meant. He pointed at her and repeated the word.
“Innkeeper. You? Clss.”
Her class? He was asking…?
Slowly, wide-eyed, the horror shook her head. She’d never been an [Innkeeper], never even considered it. She had been—she’d used to raise flowers. Even the thought made her heart ache. Flowers? Who needed flowers in this broken place?
The Hobgoblin stared down at her, looking surprised and even a bit irritated. He moved—she flinched again, but he just turned and growled something at another Goblin warrior sitting by the now merry fire. The Goblin stared at the girl. He was a normal-sized Goblin warrior, much like the others. He scratched his head, and muttered a word in another language.
The other Goblins stared at him, the head scratcher. One reached out and punched him on the shoulder. He grunted, but didn’t punch back. Then they all just turned and stared at the monster-girl.
For a minute they stared, and then one of them shrugged. He pointed towards the fire and beckoned towards her.
“Urg?”
Almost disbelieving, she crept forwards. She expected them to grab her at any second, to tear her clothes off and—no, even they wouldn’t sink that low, would they? But she expected them to stab at her, or to chase her away?
But nothing happened. The Goblins just stared at her, and let her inch closer to the fire. One of them sniffed at her—the other one poked a finger into his ear and wiggled it about. Then they went about their business.
They didn’t fear her, and clearly they had no idea what to make of her. The girl stared at them, and then saw three Goblins go over to the corpses.
Flesh.
She was there in an instant. She wanted to bite, to tear at the frozen bodies, but the Goblins had other ideas. When she grabbed a leg one of them grabbed her. She froze in fright, but the Goblin just pulled her away, grunting disapprovingly.
He had a knife in his hand. He used it to cut at the body, removing flesh swiftly, cutting away the most palatable parts. The thing salivated. It reached for the food, wanting to eat it there and then—
But the Goblins stopped her. They shook their heads at her and pulled her back. Not understanding, confused, the young woman stopped. She watched as the Goblins took the meat they’d cut and brought it over to the pot.
It was a big pot. The Hob had carried it no doubt, and it was boiling with water. Even as the monster watched, the Goblins added meat to the pot. And then…they began to cook with it.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. What were they doing? Cooking meat? But it was—it had been part of Humans and even other Goblins. It was still flesh. It was still—but it was different. The Goblins cooked the meat like…well, meat. They seasoned it with ground up spices and even added some flour to the soup they were making. And a carrot? Yes, one of the Goblins pulled out a wizened carrot from his belt. Another had a handful of pepper. And then they turned the horrible, terrible thing they’d taken from corpses into something else. Something almost wonderful.
Soup. The smell made the girl’s mouth water. The memory made her eyes water. It was soup. She hadn’t eaten soup since…
One of the Goblins, the one who seemed to be in charge of stirring and sampling the concoction, decided the food was done. He grabbed a wooden bowl and began ladling the steaming soup into bowls, passing them to the other Goblins. The girl watched, remembering and drooling, until one of the Goblins passed a bowl to her.
At first, she recoiled from the heat and the sudden nearness of the Goblin. She stared into crimson eyes, looked at the clawed hand holding the bowl. What? He was giving it to her?
To her? But she hadn’t helped. And yet, the Goblin was offering it to her. The creature struggled with the act of kindness, but the starving thing in her greedily took the bowl. She wanted to say…to thank the Goblin, but she had no words.
And the Goblin had already taken his own bowl. Grinning with delight he set near the fire, making some remark to the other Goblins. So the monster stared at the bowl in her hands, warming her cold body.
Generosity from a Goblin. The bowl was warm and let off steam that dissipated in the cold air around her. The monster stared. Then she ate.
Slowly, clumsily, she lifted the bowl. Her hands felt unused to the motion, as if they’d forgotten how. But some things didn’t fade. Slowly, the young woman blew at the soup, licking at it tentatively until it was cool. Then she tilted the bowl up and tried to eat it as fast as she could, to satiate the thing in her stomach. She slurped the broth greedily, gulping down the chunks of meat and grinding the rest between her sharp teeth. Only when the girl had half-finished her bowl did she realize she was the only one eating this way.
The Goblin warriors
were eating, yes, but they were eating…civilly. They didn’t immediately gulp down the soup like she did. They put it into bowls and ate efficiently, some even using knives to fish the meat out and pop it into their mouths. The monster stared at them, soup dripping down her dirty chest.
They ate like people. And she—
She was ashamed. But she was also hungry, so she finished the first bowl they gave her, then the second, the third.
After that, the beast in her had had enough. Which was good, because she’d eaten more than the Goblins had expected. They brewed a second batch of soup, eying her oddly but saying nothing.
They didn’t say much. Rather, each Goblin seemed to know what the others were thinking. That was how the monster-girl found herself sitting at the fire as the others sat around her. They didn’t say much, but that was because they were busy.
They were staring at her. Now that they’d eaten and taken care of the essentials, the Goblins studied the strange Human, the monster that had followed them to their camp. They eyed her from head to toe, unabashedly scrutinizing every part of her.
They didn’t seem to know what to make of her. She didn’t know what she was either, so she just stared back, part of her still afraid. The other part…
Curious.
What would they do? They hadn’t hurt her so far. Instead they’d been—she hadn’t seen other people—other Humans of her kind, that was, making soup in the city. But these Goblins had made fire, cleaned up the building, even offered food to a stranger.
They could speak! They had words! And she did not.
What were they? What was she? The monster felt anguish in her heart—
And then a stone fell into her lap.
She nearly shrieked in surprise, but it was just a pebble. One of the Goblins had thrown it. He immediately received a kick from the others, but now they were all staring at the monster, waiting to see what she would do.
The creature stared at the stone in her lap and picked it up awkwardly. She held it in her hands and stared at the Goblin who’d thrown it. He looked vaguely ashamed. What did he want from her? She didn’t know.
Slowly, hesitantly, she threw the stone back. And missed.
Her aim was terrible. Rather than hit the Goblin who’d thrown it, the pebble flew up and to the left. It struck the Hob sitting behind the Goblin, who’d been eating another bowl of soup
The pebble bounced right off of the Hobgoblin’s head. He blinked as it splashed in his bowl of soup, and slowly looked down. His chest had been splattered by the hot liquid.
The monster immediately wanted to run and hide, but she was paralyzed by shock. She stared fearfully at the Hobgoblin. So did the other Goblin warriors. They stared, and then one of them made a sound.
He hooted, and pointed at the Hobgoblin. He slapped the ground, and laughed! So did the other Goblins.
They laughed! In an instant, all of them were roaring with uncontrolled laughter, all, except for the Hob who was still processing his reduced bowl of soup. But the other Goblins were filled with mirth. They laughed like people, slapping their sides with mirth, hooting and pointing fingers at the Hobgoblin who picked the stone out with two fat fingers and hurled it over his shoulder.
He glared at the monster, who cringed, but with no real anger in him. Instead, the Hob reached out and flicked the head of the Goblin who’d thrown the stone at her, and then downed the remaining soup in his bowl in a single go. He sighed, chuckled ruefully, and then he laughed too.
Laughter. It was something that was Human or rather—reminded the young woman of Humans. But the Goblins and Humans laughed so much alike, even if the Goblin’s voices were higher and they had an odd cadence to their tones. But they still laughed, needing no words to tell her what they meant.
They laughed, at such a small accident with all the good cheer the young woman had ever seen. And—the girl thought—almost as if they were just relieved to have an excuse to laugh.
At last, the Goblins stopped laughing, but the mood remained. They sat around the fire, exchanging short, sometimes monosyllabic bursts of chatter, but clearly speaking to each other. The thing couldn’t understand, but it lay by the fire, somehow contented just to be.
It was so strange. She’d never felt this way. Not for…over a week. And few times in her previous life, to be honest. But here, among the Goblins she needed to do nothing. She just existed, and that was enough.
Goblins. The crimson eyes of the warriors sitting around her flashed in the darkness. But they weren’t heartless eyes. And their faces, however different they were from Human faces, were still capable of expressing emotion.
Soon, they began to go to sleep. They rolled into their blankets or just sat with a back against the wall and closed their eyes. Then the monster stirred.
She shouldn’t be here. That was what she felt. They were sleeping, but she—
She wasn’t safe here, was she? They’d given her food, but somehow, she still felt like an invader, or a monster living amongst people.
She should go. This had been—enough. This moment.
The monster crept away from the fire, heart aching. But she couldn’t stay. The fire was dying down and with it, the fear was coming back. The terror.
The city was full of darkness. Darkness and death. The dead were coming back. There was violence in the streets. Other people—
She had to hide. Find a tiny crevice to hide in while she slept.
That was what she thought. But the young woman paused as she crept towards the door and saw the Goblin standing watch.
He was sitting, actually. But he was sitting high up, on a broken ledge that allowed him to look out at the streets surrounding the building they’d barricaded themselves in. The Goblin had a bow in his hands and he narrowed his eyes at the monster-girl as she scrambled up to stare at him.
He didn’t smile at her, but neither did he kick her off and down onto the street. The thing looked at him, fearfully, but after a moment he just went back to studying the darkness. She looked as well and her eyes—able to see in the night like day—spotted shapes, moving in the distance.
Zombies.
She shuddered, and the Goblin on watch looked at her, almost amused. He nodded, and tapped the bow at his side. Then he pointed. The young woman turned, and saw a shape lurching down the snowy street towards them. Her heart twisted in her chest as she saw a zombie coming straight at them.
But the Goblin wasn’t afraid. He raised the bow at his side and grinned at her. He pointed, tapping his chest, and then put an arrow to the string with one swift movement. He drew the arrow to his chest, and sighted down the shaft.
Fft. The arrow streaked across the void, and thunked into the zombie’s forehead. The young woman stared, and the Goblin grinned. He pointed again. She looked, and saw another zombie, far off, not coming this way.
But it had been marked, and so the Goblin archer drew another arrow. He nocked, aimed, loosed in a single motion. The zombie staggered and fell.
Twice more the Goblin did this, pointing out targets to the monster girl and downing them. Each time he grinned at her, and tapped his own chest. His self-satisfaction was obvious, and he was unashamed of it. He was a master at his craft, an expert showing his skills off to her, like the [Hunters] or [Marksmen] who’d do the same with targets at fairs.
After the fourth zombie had fallen, the Goblin seemed done. He went back to studying the landscape. He looked at the monster, and nodded to the dim embers of the fire inquiringly. She hesitated, and then nodded back, awkwardly.
It was warm near the embers, so the creature crept closer. She lay down there—so close she could smell the smoke and feel the heat on her skin. The dim glow burned in her vision, and she closed her eyes, feeling sleep crawl over her slowly.
Could she stay here? Was this alright? She didn’t know. All the girl who’d become a monster knew was that she didn’t feel the need to hide anymore. Not here.
She slept, feeling safe for the first time in a lo
ng while.
—-
Badarrow saw the Human girl go to sleep at last by the fire. He saw her chest rise and fall rhythmically, and knew that now would be the time to shoot her, if any. He had an arrow in his hands, and he could put one through the back of her skull in a second if he wanted.
But—no. It would be a waste of an arrow. That was how Badarrow felt.
He didn’t waste arrows. Ever. When Badarrow shot at the enemy, whether it was zombies, Humans, Drakes, Gnolls, or even other Goblins he never wasted an arrow. Even if he missed. Because that arrow was there to hurt the people who were trying to hurt them, and it would do just that, or at least make them cover their heads.
But killing the Human girl? No. She wasn’t an enemy, and she wasn’t a nuisance either. She was something else. But what?
Not a victim. Not something to attack. Garen Redfang was very clear on that one point. He had walked among Humans, and adopted some of their customs. In this at least, he was firm. No Goblin warrior of his would ever assault a female, or male for that matter. They had their own kind for such things, and it was only the worst of tribes that tolerated such actions among their own people. So why degrade themselves for other species?
It was a mark of pride among the Redfang Gobins that they were like their leader. Humans were for killing or ignoring. That was it. Nothing else.
So. No sex. No killing. Just a Human who ate their food and slept next to them as if they were Humans like her. Badarrow couldn’t understand it. But she was clearly more monster than Human, so maybe that was why.
The Goblin [Archer] yawned irritably. He glanced up at the moon, and decided it was time. Swiftly, he leapt down from his spot and walked over to another of the resting Goblins.
Headscratcher woke up after only a single poke. He knew it was his time to watch, so he didn’t scowl that hard at Badarrow. He took the bow the Goblin handed him, nodding at the implicit threat of what would happen if he damaged Badarrow’s weapon.
The Goblin warrior went to climb up to the watch point, but he paused as he passed the Human. He stopped, and looked down at her. He stared down at the Human girl, eying her altered features with interest. He reached down to touch at her dirty hair, which glowed in the firelight—