Damon

Two fingers gripped one side of the rough wood while his thumb firmly held the other side of the handle. Bending the whole arm back, his wrist flicked towards a large oak tree, releasing the knife from its hold as the index finger guided it towards the centre of the tree.

“thump”

A hit but no kill.

Another knife was picked and once again thrown, which like before was a hit but no kill. The sun had gone down by the time he had finished, multiple knife wounds now littering the tree. Very few scratched the sides of the wide tree as most were concentrated around the centre where the trunk had even slightly caved in, due to the magnitude of knife wounds. Two years of hard work hadn't gone to waste.

Collecting the knives back into his slight woven bag, the goblin set his way back to the Tribe. Training for social monsters was important as they were usually born with little to none innate skills and thus had to learn many through their life in order to survive. The importance of this was only multiplied when you lived in the Great Forest, a large forest range that was rumoured to be the entrance to somewhere else otherworldly.

And yet goblins had no dedicated training sessions; it was seen as a waste of goblin resources as it wouldn’t have an immediate apparent increase in survival. Thus the older goblins preferred to allow the younglings free range and allowed them to do as they wished, after all only the strong and hardworking ones would survive all the way up to adulthood. The harsh calluses on the walking goblin’s palm gave clear testament to his work ethic.

His mind seemed to run amok as he walked towards the tribe, it was visiting certain parts of his short life which had an effect on him, though in no particular order.

He had lived 3 long years, which although was extremely short when compared to some species, was actually congratulatory. After all a goblin grew to complete adult hood at the age of 5, though the average in the Great forest was a meagre 1 years, which was what made the goblin’s age of 3 congratulatory.

Goblins were considered a spawn animals by other intelligent species; this being attributed due to their quick growth periods and high birth rates: a female goblin could give birth every 3 months, meaning a total of around 4 babies per year for each female goblin. This alongside their weak strength made sense why others considered goblins a spawn species, which only made it more confusing why such a species was in the Great forest, even if it was just the outskirts region. Goblins were generally found on the plains with foliage, though that was a different matter in the Great forest where the foliage itself was more of a shield than greenery.

He hadn’t been named at birth, after all their survival rate was very low. He had named himself at his first anniversary, proof of his significance by living for so long, as Damon. It was also around that time Damon had seen Gregal, the strongest goblin in the village, kill an Alpha wolf with a single axe throw. It had sparked inspiration in the little goblin to learn throwing, which although wasn’t a strong passion, was one he had continued for 2 years due to the consistent results.

Damon had already arrived at the village, unbeknownst to him, while still lost in his thoughts.

“CrroooOOOOOOOOOOO”

His stupor was quickly broken by a blaring horn-blow, which transformed his gentle walk into a rushed jog towards the centre of the village. The village itself was made of huts and a clearing. The huts were made out of mud and several strong plant materials. Each goblin used to make their own huts due to its simplicity but now most just used old unoccupied huts made by others due to their low survival rate. The countless huts surrounded a circular clearing in the middle, around 20m radius, which was now filled with several goblins.

Goblins anatomy-wise were not the most exciting creatures: they were humanoid creatures with distinguishing features being their fangs, above average nose sizes and angular eyes. Though the biggest give-away was their pasty green skin. The goblins in terms of size weren’t too small but definitely not big either, the average males in the forest went up to 160cm while the average females reached 155cm. Damon himself was already 120cm, and would be taller than his counter-parts were it not for their early deaths. Instead he was up against goblins older than him, most reaching from 130-150cm.

This basic description agreed with around 90% of the goblins who kept on swarming into the clearing, ballooning the number of goblins in the clearing to around 80 by now. The 10% remaining were the goblins at the centre of the clearing, because surrounding the large blow horn was a well-aged goblin and several other large, muscular goblins.

“Quiet!” The aged goblin bellowed and it was quickly followed as the noisy rabble instantly quietened down.

“Over the last week, a warrior stumbled upon a cave which earned us a loss of life!”

“Luckily the rest of his group escaped and the warriors have now investigated that area. We are now confident that what lies in that cave is a silverback bear. Know that the monster is a tier two, meaning a massacre on our side would be necessary if we wanted it. However the investigations have also shown that the monster is currently at maximum size, meaning no one here could ever hope to kill it. But that is also to our advantage, after all any monster at maximum size would want to evolve.”

The raspy voice continued onwards onto a few more details about minor matters before concluding the meeting.

“A silverback bear evolves into a moon bear by bathing in moonlight for a night,this means just as it is evolving, it will be weakened and we can kill it. Its next evolution's strenght depends on the amount of moonlight it can absord in a night, so it will definitely wait for a full moon. It is just within our luck that the next full moon will be in 2 days, meaning we have enough time to prepare. Remember that as long as we get the bear’s body, we can forcibly evolve ourselves!”

His speech ended on what the people actually cared about.

“We will be sending 10 warriors alongside with a few pack carriers in order to make sure the warriors are in best condition as they arrive.”

What proceeded was him choosing 10 of the strongest warriors standing near him, in which there were two notable ones: Raarak and Withil. Both were extremely strong warriors at the top of the pack but more importantly, both were vying for the next position as Chief. In truth the village’s strongest Gregal could have solo finished this task, but it seemed he and the current aged Chief seemed to agree on using this task to indirectly test the two candidates. Whichever one succeeded would have an advantage over the other, enough so for one of the two to be chosen as the next Chieftain.

He was done within seconds, after which he began naming the pack carriers.

“…., ….., ….., Damon,….”.

A smile bloomed widely on Damon’s face as he heard the golden word. Although it instantly wilted within the next second.

“Chieftain, I desire a battle with Damon for his position!”.

“…hmm… Accepted”.

The goblin who had requested to fight him wasn’t after the extremely “glorious” position of pack carrier but rather the baggage it came with (). The warriors would have monopoly over the beast’s carcass as they brought it back and the pack carriers who came alongside with them would have second dibs. Having a better quality piece could exponentially increase chance of success, which in turn made perfect sense why the other goblin had wanted his place.

The reason for choosing Damon? He was the smallest of the bunch.

Within seconds an area had been cleared out as the warriors made the physical parameters for an arena. Across the circle stood the challenging goblin who was 130cm tall and quite a bit more muscular than Damon. The goblin had in his arms a small axe while his other arm edged towards his woven bag around his waist.

In truth it was a pathetic attempt, it was similar to standing in front of a football and pulling your foot completely backwards while in front of a professional footballer: they would know exactly what you were about to do and how to respond, due to experience and expertise.

The arm suddenly shot into the bag, grabbing a knife which the goblin instantly threw. It was simply unfortunate that Damon had already rolled backwards, causing the knife to fly overhead. Damon's hand flowed like water as he shot towards his own bag, a well-practised action as what followed was extremely fluid: a straight throw towards the goblin’s chest.

Clearly flustered by the lack of gaps between Damon’s actions, the other goblin flinched before jumping backwards.

“RAARGH!”

The moment of hesitation revealed its dangers as the knife missed the kill but still hit, just as it had done on the tree. Blood streamed down the goblin’s arm with the knife at the centre, akin to an overflowing volcano.

The warriors surrounding the two seemed amused due to the amateur attempt at fighting shown by the challenging goblin. He was well known in the tribe as a future goblin warrior candidate, and yet he was absolutely ruined when faced against an expert. In truth most goblin's wouldn't focus on knife throwing and certainly wouldn't persist on it as long as Damon had. Damon was without a doubt the second best at knife throwing in the village, though that meant little when faced up against a few of the skills the warriors had.

Gritting his teeth, the challenging goblin clenched his jaw down although tears still escaped his eyes. Damon was about to throw another knife just as the other goblin dashed forward, ducking below the now-speeding knife as he reached close proximity.

The goblin was at least 4 years old and he hadn’t just wasted 4 years, after all one couldn’t survive here if one had done such. Instead he had well trained his close combat skills as nearly all other goblins did and it clearly showed as he used his only able hand to strike the axe downwards. Damon used another knife to clash the axe, though the strength difference was clear as day as Damon’s wrist began to bend under the pressure.

It was also within that second Damon let go of the knife, though by no accident, as the downwards force meant the other goblin staggered forward, striking thin air. This was enough time as Damon jumped backwards while he threw another knife out. Missing at this range would be a joke for an amateur, nevertheless an expert at knife throwing. The knife blade met the goblin’s eye as it pierced through, reaching the brain.

The goblin staggered forward once more just as he collapsed: an instant death.

???

He was born bigger than the rest. At the age of 1, he had already reached other 3 year olds. At the age of 15, he was already the biggest in his tribe and his growth had still not finished. It was at just a month after his 15th that the tribe lost their leader due to an attack. He had made himself a name in the tribe but his size was nothing when compared to the fame of a few of the elders. But none of that mattered not, it had been passed down their species that the strongest would be leader. This made perfect sense, after all which troll didn’t love a good fight?