George eventually finished cleaning the deer and sat beside her, legs kicked out in front of him, spear resting across his lap. His face scrunched into the thoughtful, slightly painful expression he always made when he was about to ask a big question.
“Hey Luna,” George started slowly.
“Hey George,” Luna responded, giving him permission to continue.
“If tribe only us… then I leader?”
Luna blinked. “You… want to be the leader?”
George puffed up his little goblin chest. “Leader make tribe strong. Leader protect tribe.”
“How noble of you,” Luna said, admiring the goblin who had recently been making a point to show off his muscles no matter the task.
He broke eye contact to continue. “Leader make more goblins for tribe?”
Ah. There it was. Luna had been waiting for that one. She had long ago decided she wasn’t going to try being a summoned goblin mother, but she hadn’t exactly sat George down for a serious talk about it.
So she tried to let him down gently, walking him through every pitfall and existential nightmare scenario she’d thought of.
“Do you see the problems there?” Luna asked after finishing her long list.
George nodded solemnly. “Luna summon goblin, but goblin not real goblin for goblin making.”
He looked genuinely disappointed, but respectful. “I no ask again.”
“Thank you,” Luna said softly.
She appreciated that he actually listened. Better than some of her exes, that was for sure.
George poked the dirt with his spear. “But tribe still only us. Tribe of two is small. Need more goblins.”
He wasn’t wrong.
And leveling him up was part of that dream.
A strong tribe needed a strong leader.
“Okay,” Luna said. “If you want a tribe, we start by getting you stronger.”
George brightened. “Power hunting?”
“Power hunting,” Luna confirmed.
This set off a series of hunts that were not for food like their normal hunting. Sure, George was a great teacher for collecting meat, but “Power hunting”, as they’d started calling it, was Luna’s specialty.
…
“Get in there, George!” Luna yelled as the agile goblin danced around the snarling Forest Lion — Lv. 6. “And drop the damn spear! You’re doing fractions of the damage you should be doing!”
“What fractio—AH!”
George did not have time to learn the new math concept before the lion pounced with professional malice.
The lion slammed into George, claws carving deep.
(12 slashing — George HP: 38/50)
“GEORGE!” Luna shouted. “Stop tanking with your face!”
“I TRY!” George yelled back, rolling desperately out of the way as the lion’s jaws snapped shut where his head had just been.
The lion turned to Luna, tail lashing, eyes hungry.
“Okay, kitty,” Luna muttered. “Magic time.”
She cast Curse, resulting in black veins crawling like ink soaking through hair.
(7 necrotic — Lion HP: 83/90)
The lion snarled at the feeling of its flesh rotting away before lunging at her.
The lion slashed its large claws across the goblin woman’s body, raking through flesh leaving a bleeding wound.
(13 slashing — Luna HP: 7/20)
“GEORGE!” she screamed. “FLANK IT!”
“I FLANKING!”
George hollered, charging out from somewhere behind the lion with claws bared.
The warrior dug his own claws deep into the beasts hindquarters drawing bubbling and blackening blood.
(15 slashing/poison — Lion HP: 68)
Curse detonation: +6 necrotic (Lion HP: 62)
“GOOD BOY! See? FRACTIONS! You’re doing like six times your spear damage!”
“Fraction six?” George shout asked, claws dripping green poison.
“We’ll math later!” Luna yelled as she darted in, slashing weakly at the creatures front. Weak as it was, she still procced those sweet damage and healing abilities.
(6 slashing/poison — Lion HP: 56)
Curse detonation: +4 necrotic (Lion HP: 52)
The combined necrotic energy surged resulting in a flash of healing to the goblin party.
*Pound of Flesh triggered!
Luna HP: 9/20
George HP: 40/50
The lion whipped it’s head around to face George as he had done a significant amount of damage to it’s flank. It carried the snaking strike forward sinking its massive teeth into George’s shoulder.
(13 piercing — George HP: 27/50)
“Hang in there buddy!” Luna called.
“I TRY!”
George reared his own head back to expose dripping gnarled fangs before slamming them down into the lion's neck biting the beast right back.
(16 piercing/poison — Lion HP: 36)
Curse necrotic: +6 (Lion HP: 30)
With the lion and George locked together, luna was able to do a raking claw attack of her own on the already damaged backside of the beast.
(4 slashing/poison — Lion HP: 26)
Curse necrotic: +5 (Lion HP: 21)
Another necrotic surge rippled.
*Pound of Flesh triggered!
Luna HP: 11/20
George HP: 29/50
The lion staggered, panting, bleeding from a dozen wounds.
The lion, using is greatly superior mass, pushed into the warrior goblin breaking both of their bites. The creature slammed heavy on George with its claws extended into his chest.
(9 slashing — George HP: 20/50)
George took the beast by the front legs and dug into its flesh with his own extended claws. The goblin warrior dug his claws through the fur and skin to drill into muscle, the whole time pumping poison and slashing damage into the creature.
(17 slashing/poison — Lion HP: 4)
Curse necrotic: +7 (Lion HP: -3)
The beast collapsed onto the bloodied goblin warrior.
Silence.
Then—
“GOOD POWER HUNTING US!” George’s muffled shouting triumphantly called from under the mass of fur and muscle.
Luna, covered in lion blood and badly needing a bandage and a nap, managed a grin.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Hell yeah,” she panted. “Level 6 leader material right there.”
George had leveled up. With their combined strength, they were able to shimmy George out from under the corpse of the lion.
George pushed himself up onto his feet as his chest heaved and his poison dripping claws flexed as he looked around hungrilly. “We get more lion now?”
“No,” Luna said instantly. “Absolutely not. That was plenty of lion.”
…
George threw himself down onto the ground to let that busted goblin regen take effect.
“That… good hunt,” he wheezed, grinning like a man who had just won a “Who can run through razor wire the fastest” competition.
Luna let her goblin body sag too, resting her hands on her knees as she checked her menus to make sure she wasn’t in danger of bleeding out. It seemed the bleed effect had already been handled by her goblin regeneration.
“Good hunt,” she panted, nodding. “That lion was bitchmade.”
She was exaggerating… but honestly? They had handled that pretty smoothly.
A Level 5 and a Level 2 taking down a Level 6 predator without casualties, even fake ones, wasn’t nothing.
Though speaking of levels…
Goblin Warrior — George — Level Up!
New Stats Available.
“Congrats! Long time coming,” Luna said, praising George’s accomplishment. With all the low level food animals they’d been hunting, she was glad the lion had finally pushed him over the leveling ledge.
“Anything good?” she asked as the goblin zoned out over his menu.
“Yeah, good,” he murmured. “Easier no dying.”
Standard HP pool and regen increase, Luna guessed.
“New thing called ‘Second Wind,’” George added.
“Is that right?” Luna leaned in, suddenly very interested. She checked his sheet.
Second Wind — Activate to regain (1d6 × lvl) HP once per fight. Recharges after a short rest.
“That’s a good one, George,” Luna concluded. His survivability was getting pretty nice.
“Anything new for Luna?” George asked, pulling himself out of his menu.
Luna had, in fact, gotten something new.
Goblin Shaman — Lv. 3
Health: 30/30
Health Regen: 0.09/s
Mana: 50/50
Mana Regen: 0.5/s
Summon Points: 0/4
Abilities:
? Claw — 3d4 slashing + 1d4 poison
? Bite — 3d4 piercing + 2d4 poison
? Curse — Deal 2d8 necrotic. Target takes 1d8 necrotic on each future instance of damage for 1 minute. Cost: 10 mana.
? Domain — Spend at least 1 minute channeling mana to form a domain. Every 10 mana = +1 ft radius (cap: lvl × 10 ft).
Domain Effects (choose one): 2× regen, 2× curse damage, 2× Tribe Frenzy effect.
Luna grinned to herself. She could absolutely see the benefits.
Overlapping domains… multiple warriors… synergy stacking into a super-organism of murder and community.
Magics:
? Splitting Spell 1 — Clone a spell to target multiple enemies.
? Rot 1 — Necrotic damage reduces healing received.
? Pound of Flesh 2 — If the party deals 8+ necrotic in one round, all members heal 2 HP.
The pair reveled in their gains while healing and resting.
Luna enjoyed moments like this. Quiet, peaceful, warm.
George had somehow become the best stinky, green, and caring friend she’d ever had.
Which made the next part of her plan sting a little.
Her Summoner class alone wasn’t going to cut it.
Not for tribal growth.
Not for supplying George with actual goblins.
Not without resetting and losing everything she’d worked for.
She ran through the options:
Summon goblins?
Not real enough. Too fragile. Too costly.
Steal promising young goblins from other tribes?
Absolutely not.
She wasn’t some kind of Order of Space Wizards recruiting gifted youths with questionable guardian consent.
Make a new kind of goblin.
She didn’t need to summon or steal them.
She could find weasels… or kobolds… or hell, even confused humans…
and fold them into something new.
Anyone George could gather under one banner — a strange, scrappy, multi-species disaster family of a tribe.
Perfect.
“Hey, George,” Luna said, as she sat up and faced the sprawled out goblin.
“Hey, Luna” George replied, as he continued to lounge.
“I know a way to grow the tribe.” She tried to let the warrior in on the plan softly. “I just need to… look around.”
“You leave?” he asked, bolting upright, clearly worried.
“No, not leaving” She reassured. “Goblin me stays with you.” She tapped her current body. “She fights, she hunts, she backs you up. The other me, the Nothing me, goes scouting.”
Understanding dawned on George’s face. “Luna everywhere.”
“Exactly.”
Luna slipped out of her goblin form, leaving it by George’s side, and stretched out into her true formless self.
The world fell into silhouettes and mana currents again, but that was fine. She didn’t need eyes for this.
She crafted a tiny spark of mana, a flickering, drifting orb. Barely anything. Not a summon, just a construct. A toy.
A will-o’-wisp.
It bobbed gently, glowing just enough to be noticed.
“Alright, little light,” she murmured. “Let’s go find some lost puppies.”
…
Luna spent the next days drifting through the forest, nudging curious creatures here, guiding frightened ones there, always as gently as possible. She tried not to discriminate, giving a fair chance to even the most gnarly looking creatures.
Even predators could be lonely. Even dangerous beasts could need direction.
All they had to do was follow a mysterious floating light back to warmth and a friendly (if slightly confused) goblin named George.
Back at camp, goblin Luna stood watch while George practiced spear throws, blissfully unaware that somewhere in the woods, his future tribe members were beginning to follow a strange guiding glow.
A tribe would form, not by blood, but by hearth.
And Luna would deliver them one at a time.
…
Luna drifted through the forest like a glowing mote of curiosity, her tiny wisp bobbing ahead.
Days of so many attempts. Her recruitment success rate was abysmal…
She was almost able to count a giant snake monster as a success as it had not immediately attacked George when it had arrived at their basecamp.
(To be fair, George and goblin Luna did survive the snake after it had decided it wanted them for dinner. This led to both goblins getting an XP injection along with a good combat workout, so not a total loss.
“Okay,” Luna whispered. “Today we find something small. Harmless. Cute. Not venomous. Not made of ooze. Preferably not taller than George.”
…
She followed faint mana signatures that she had been learning to more easily pick up on during her searching. She weaved through the trees until a shape caught her attention, a still body in the brush.
A possum like creature wearing worn down shoes lay unmovingly next to a spilled bag of personal belongings.
Goblin sized.
Throat very much not intact.
“Oh, poor thing…”
She’d seen the aftermath of enough monster attacks to deduce that this creature had met its match in some kind of clawed predator.
Though the creature was vaguely humanoid, it clearly had more possum features resulting in a tug at an old memory.
Her sister.
The car.
The possum.
She could still picture her sister in Luna’s old apartment kitchen, holding up a possum the size of a loaf of bread like she was presenting Simba.
“I already looked it up Luna!” The girl pleaded “The internet says they can’t have rabies and they eat ticks. Please let her stay.”
Meanwhile, Luna focused on the seven squirmy pink gremlins clinging to the inside of the pouch. She knew it was a losing battle to convince her sister to abandon the animal that was obviously a struggling single mom that worked two jobs.
The apartment had strict cat and dog rules.
However, they didn’t have any rules against possums…
Back to the present, Luna hated herself for secretly hoping this one had babies too, just so she’d finally have a successful recruitment.
She whispered to her own heart, “Please don’t be a mama.”
Her wisp drifted lower, prodding the pouch.
A tiny pink nose poked out.
Emotion slammed into her, loss, grief, the echo of crushing tearful showers and mental spiraling, all replaced by one overwhelming thought:
Get these babies to safety.
There were three.
Three fuzzy, coconut-sized fantasy possum babies stared up at her.
Wide-eyed.
Wiggling.
Alive.
“Great,” Luna sighed. “I think I just decided I would die for you three.”
The babies squeaked softly, noses twitching.
“They’re probably hungry,” Luna muttered.
The problem solved itself, her wisp was apparently very attractive to the nocturnal bugs in the area resulting in a cloud of bugs gently knocking at her sphere like an old porch light.
One possumling snatched a beetle out of the air and ate it immediately.
“Oh perfect. Old enough to eat solids.”
Another dove face first into the bug swarm.
The third stared at Luna’s wisp like it was contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
“Gonna have to watch that one,” she thought.
She gathered the swarm gently, guiding the babies onward with careful pulses of mana. Unlike most creatures, these three needed no convincing. They showed no fear and no hesitation as they followed the wisp towards the goblin sanctuary that held promises of food, warmth, and a second chance.
