It was during the raid that I met them.

The village in question was fairly small, consisting of only a few cottages built around a central mill. A small portion of the forest around the settlement was cleared but beyond that it was largely surrounded by thick forest.

My ancestors had made a wise choice when choosing the location of their new den. The Bevertain woodland was a region rich in timber, which meant the settlements within it had to make their living trading the stuff. Because they dealt in lumber, most villages didn’t have crops and in turn they needed to export their goods by wagon. This process left plenty of wagons to be overtaken, the only tradeoff was that there weren’t many settlements in the area.

This made that night's raid all that more special.

By the time we reached the village it was already midnight. We surrounded the village, making sure to hide ourselves behind the tall pines as to not be seen.

Larger villages were patrolled by guards during the dark hours but this one had none of the sort. All its inhabitants were sleeping soundly within their homes, oblivious to the tragedy that was about to occur.

The goblins around me could barely keep quiet. They all wore the same sinister grin and cackled the same deprived laugh. Although I thoroughly despised their crude behavior, I found myself clutching my club in anticipation nonetheless.

A few moments of painstaking silence passed by and there was still no sign of the raid commencing. Goblins were eying the locations they wanted to pillage first, drool leaking from their vulgar mouths.

From the distance we heard the howl.

The chief let out a shrill, animalistic roar that pierced the night’s silence. The rest of the goblins followed suit and soon enough the serene twilight had morphed into a chaotic hellscape. It was as if all the anticipation that had built in the past couple hours had unleashed at once.

Goblins rushed into the village, snorting and howling in joy. The first ones there made a beeline to the cottages, crashing through the doors and windows to access the loot within.

By this point the human screams began to erupt from within the cottages. Men scrambled for their hatchets, women took their children and hid behind locked doors but it was all to no avail.

A mob of goblins could tear through a wooden door in seconds and an untrained villager in less; it was only a matter of time before they’d be slaughtered.

Realising this, many villagers fled their homes and into the night, an even more foolish idea.

Most fleeing villagers were butchered before they reached the forest and the ones that did make it were dragged into the thicket, not to be seen again.

The women were dragged by their hair into the square and immediately stripped, their children already slaughtered.

Even the infants lying in their cribs met cruel ends. The last thing they’d feel would be the barbaric strike of a goblin’s club against their fragile skulls.

Of course I took part in this killing too.

I situated myself at the edge of the woods, ready to catch any fleeing villagers unawares. And sure enough, one came.

A young man bolted out of one of the cabins, scrambling in my direction. He was sprinting at a breakneck pace, stumbling every few feet. His eyes were in a state of delirious fear.

Unarmed, unskilled, and dazed. In other words, a perfect target.

I waited until he’d nearly crossed into the brush before attacking.

The moment he stepped foot into the darkness of the forest I lunged out from behind the tree I’d been hiding behind. His eyes darted to me, widening in surprise. He raised his arm to try and block my blow but it was far too late.

He caught my swing square in the face. The jagged nails ripped his cheeks into ribbons and shattered his jaw. In one viscous strike his mandible had all but torn off, being held in place by nothing but a few mutilated strands of flesh.

The force of the blow nearly spun him around before he fell to the ground, dead. Just to be safe I struck his head again, splitting it into a thousand pieces.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, not that much had formed anyway. I sat there for a little longer, waiting for more prey to come my way but none did. I was getting a little bored and so I wandered into the village to try and find something more engaging to do.

All the men and children had already been killed, along with all the livestock.

I could hear the screams of women before I even entered the square. It was almost impressive how quickly they broke the females, in the span of a few minutes many had already died. Goblins generally use up half the women during the celebration and bring the rest back to the den.

Of course when seeing this vile orgy I had the faint urge to breed as well. Goblins have an extreme libido after all, me included. I’d abstained from it my whole life because I didn’t want to be similar to the horny mutts that I hated so much. This situation was no different.

I walked by indifferently, barely casting them a glance.

After a bit of stolling I began to hear a commotion on the other side of the village. Having nothing else to do, I wandered over.

As I neared closer I began to make out a few distinct shapes. Three humanoid figures, most likely human, stood atop a wagon being surrounded by a half dozen goblins. Two of the figures were waving their weapons at the goblins whilst the other was trying to get the horses up front to carry them off.

It was pretty obvious that they wouldn’t be able to escape, much less defeat the goblins attacking them if things kept up.

I brandished my club, ready to join in on the conflict.

But before I made my presence known, it dawned on me that this might’ve been the perfect opportunity.

The rest of the tribe was occupied with the women and as a result, off guard. Furthermore an escape route was sitting right in front of me. If I could just kill these goblins (which was pretty likely considering my ability) my escape from the tribe would be as good as guaranteed.

The opportunities had presented themselves and the logistics more or less worked out, now it was only a matter of choice.

Leaving right then and there presented many risks. There may have been more things to learn from the chief, for example. Additionally I ran the risk of being discovered as a goblin in the human settlement that I’d be going to. There was also the fact that I didn’t know much about human society and that I was only roughly literate in the human tongue.

On the other hand this might be the best or only chance to flee the tribe. If no convenient opportunities revealed themselves after this one then I’d have to result to fighting my way out of the tribe or running on foot, both of which were unlikely to succeed.

I could easily take on anyone in the tribe save for the chief, but if nearly twenty of them all went at me at once, I’d be a deadman.

After considering the pros and cons, I finally made up my mind.

I rushed into one of the adjacent houses and rummaged through its various cabinets. I took anything that fit me: cloaks, oversized shirts, scarves, even scraps of fabric.

I haphazardly draped the clothing over myself, covering anything that resembled a goblin. I used layers where I needed to hide my form and thinner fabrics to cover my face.

After I’d run out of usable cloth, I examined myself in the small mirror in the room. Layers of fabric covered every part of me besides my armor and a ragged cloak hid a majority of my body. I’d wrapped several scarves around my head and covered it with the cloak’s hood for good measure as well.

I looked like some lepper that refused to show his skin, but it would work.

I rushed back outside to see that the humans were almost being overwhelmed by the goblins. Their movements were sloppy and uncoordinated, fatigue was beginning to take its toll on them.

I snuck behind my former tribesmen, readying my club. The humans spotted me but took no action. They didn’t know whether to consider me a friend or foe after all.

I chose my targets strategically and in a way that would end the battle as quickly as possible.

After taking a moment to catch my breath, I commenced my attack.

I brought my club as hard as I could down onto the goblins head. His skull caved inward and he immediately collapsed onto the ground. Before the one beside him could react I snapped his neck with another swing.

The goblin on the other side of him had noticed me already but hadn’t the time to revert into a battle stance. The bashing end of my club crashed into his side, easily breaking multiple ribs and throwing him several feet to the side.

The other three had surrounded me on all sides and shuffled into combat positions. I used my superior reach to ward them off whilst I made my plan.

Unfortunately, one of the goblins grew impatient and lunged at me with his shortsword. I parried the strike with the midsection of my club and used the opportunity to boot him away.

The other two lunged in with their weapons at the same time, aiming for my throat and gut respectively.

I used the momentum from the parry and followed through with my arc, catching the two goblins unawares.

Before they could reach me the club crashed into them both, flinging them away. It wasn’t lethal damage but it would give me enough time to escape.

I vaulted into the wagon and in my incomplete human language I yelled to the man acting as the wagon coach,

“We need to go now!”

Although they were all a bit taken back by my actions he wiped the horses into a gallop and we took off into the woods.

As we fled, I looked back to the village. One of the injured goblins had most likely called for help by now but it was too late. They had no mounts and they’d be too far anyway.

A strange sense of melancholy lingered, which confused me. I without a doubt hated those barbarians but I still spent my entire life with them.

I cleared these troublesome thoughts from my mind and slid down onto my bottom, catching my breath.

Only when the adrenaline subsided did I raise my head to see three unfamiliar faces gazing at me in awe.