[Enemy: Goblin]

The screen flickered out of existence, and he had a chance to see at what was in front of him. The… goblin, obviously, was green, small, and had a chittering, rambling voice that he could swear mentioned the words ‘Kill’ and ‘Eat’ a few too many times for comfort.

For reference, the correct number of times for said comfort was zero.

The Goblin held a small knife, perhaps similar to what he was carrying, but in its small hands, it looked bigger.

> That’s what she said.

What? The new screen, this time green and much more transparent flickered out from the bottom left.

Did the screens somehow read his mind? The whirring on his back was uncomfortable all of a sudden.

He contemplated the existence of mind reading for the next second because that’s how much time it took before the Goblin leapt into him.

It leapt. Really fast.

He clearly didn’t have enough time to get his gears turning properly, and was shortly met with a dagger eerily close to the chest.

At least some part of him knew how to dodge incoming blades. He would make sure to thank that part later on. Perhaps with some food.

It was, however, not the time to dilly dally around. The Goblin missed, but just barely. He swung again and this time he was expecting it.

No, that was wrong. He wasn’t expecting a dagger to be swung anywhere near him. The presence of said dagger within 1 metre of his personal space was utterly against any logic of civilized society. Unless he was cutting cake.

Mmm, cake.

He tried to dodge the next jab towards his chest. He jumped to his left and once again it barely missed. He was thankful for this Goblin being really bad at jabbing daggers. Or maybe he was good at dodging them. Before long, he would level Dodging up. If that’s how it worked.

Still on his feet, he took out his own dagger in his left hand and did his best impression of knowing how to properly handle bladed weapons. Maybe it would easier if he imagined the Goblin to be like a really ugly cake.

The Goblin was definitely shorter than him, so it was obvious that he had a longer reach. Maybe that’s how he would actually win this fight.

The Goblin made another jab at him with his dagger, and he snatched his arm, trying to keep the dagger away from his innards. Or outards. Was outards a word?

He certainly seemed to have a better or stronger grip than the Goblin, as the chittering rambler seemed taken aback by being grasped.

It opened his toothy mouth and he had to try and ignore the foul smell that was coming out of that pile of toxic waste that was the rotten maw of the creature.

Maybe that’s how he’d die, not by being stabbed but by pure radiation coming from such a vile void.

He turned his right hand, the one holding the Goblin, sharply to the left, trying to position the Goblin’s face away from his nose. It worked, somewhat.

In a moment that the Goblin’s hairy, warty, back was exposed to him, he took his chance and stabbed at its shoulder.

The dagger dug into skin, sickly blackish blood squirting as the Goblin flailed. Another shriek and a loose swing from it made him let go, pulling the knife out from his back.

It backed off briefly, trying to clutch at his wound. Another ramble of ‘Kill’ and ‘Die’, and he was back at it, trying to jab the dagger again.

This time, he grasped at the Goblin’s head, narrowly dodged its arm flailing at him wildly, and pushed the dagger into its chest.

Another sputter of blood came out, and the Goblin slowed, looking down at his wounds.

His chest wheezed and squirted blood as he pulled the dagger out and backed off sharply.

He eyed the small Goblin as it clutched its chest, rambled the word ‘Die’, this time with more sadness and apparent self-conscious, then dropped on the forest floor.

[Tutorial stage 1 complete]