Parade

Grashok gathered the remaining goblins in the dim light of the entrance hall, the air thick with anticipation. A sense of responsibility weighed heavily on him as he surveyed the assembly before him. A mix of 22 forest goblins, their small but fierce forms stood ready.

Among them, a handful of males were noticeably taller and bulkier, their skin varying shades of green and brown, a few with tints of gray. Their eyes glimmered with a fierce spark, while their teeth shone in the low light, lending them a savage look. The females, smaller and somewhat leaner, carried themselves with a grace that belied their rough backgrounds. A few sported colourful adornments made from beads and bits of scavenged materials, enhancing their ragged appearance.

At the forefront stood the Goblin Hedge-witch, a striking figure even by goblin standards. Her skin was a soft shade of green, with intricate tattoos swirling across her arms and back, enhancing her slender yet athletic build. Her hair cascaded in wild, dark curls, framing a face that held an unusual allure—large, expressive eyes that shimmered with intelligence and mischief. Her ears were adorned with delicate silver earrings, catching the dim light and glimmering as she moved. Despite her stature, there was a magnetic quality to her presence, a sense of power that made her stand out among the assembled goblins.

Next to her was the Goblin Chieftess, a formidable presence despite being only a little taller than her kin. She was lithe yet strong, her dark green skin smooth and freckled across a strikingly beautiful face. Her long brown hair was drawn into two tight braids that trailed down her back, each threaded with beads and feathers that marked her standing among the tribe. Her beguiling yellow eyes carried a fierce intensity, and the curve of her hips, the strength in her legs, and the proud lift of her pert chest gave her a commanding grace. She stood at level 3, no different from the Hedge‑witch or the others, yet the aura surrounding her carried the weight of far greater experience than her title implied, a quiet power that made her seem regal.

At Grashok’s feet, the wolf cub curled protectively, its grey‑and‑white fur catching the light as it peered up at him with wide, innocent eyes. The bond between them was unmistakable; the cub’s quiet loyalty echoed Grashok’s own burgeoning sense of leadership.

Clearing his throat, Grashok stepped forward, lifting his voice to address the assembly. “Listen, my brave goblins!” he called out, his tone firm yet encouraging. “Today, we stand not just as individuals, but as a tribe. Together, we have faced danger and overcome it. The Ratkin threaten our homes, but we will not let fear bind us! We will venture out and find those who need our help. We will seek out the survivors of other tribes, and together, we will grow stronger!”

He paused, gauging their reactions, seeing nods of agreement and determination shining in their eyes. “We may be few in number, but we have the spirit of warriors! We will show the world that goblins can fight back! We will reclaim our lands and build a future where our kind can thrive!”

With a surge of energy, he continued, “Now, let us move with purpose! Keep your eyes sharp and your wits about you. We will find our brothers and sisters out there, and together we will rise again!”

The goblins erupted in a chorus of enthusiastic cheers, their spirits lifted by Grashok's words. With the Hedge-witch and Chieftess flanking him, he led the small troop out of the cave and into the wilds, the sun filtering through the trees and casting a hopeful light on their path ahead. The cub trotted close by his side, ready for whatever lay ahead, as the band set forth on their mission to recruit more survivors and reclaim their place in the world.