Chapter 10: Ch 7 – A traumatic recolection

“Everyone but Toeless can go back to their regular duties. You as well, Deer Catcher.”

 

Most of the guards start to leave the building upon an order from the elder, leaving only the first goblin I heard and the one I was talking to outside. 

I still have a few questions left in my mind, but I wait for all the goblins to leave the building so i can get a good look at them as they pass. They’re all barely distinguishable from one-another, but they all have a variety of scars covering their bodies. The final on leaving passes through the doorway.

 

“How are goblins named?” I pose.

The elder breathes deeply before speaking, preparing a small speech in her mind. I get the feeling she really enjoys talking to people

 

“Pure goblins breed quickly and are high in number, but possess few distinguishing features. This contrasts heavily with humans, who usually have at least one unique trait upon birth. 

All goblins are jealous of humans. They envy their size, their long lives, and their strength to name a few. I could go on about the reasons why goblins desire to be human, but there is only really one that matters to this topic.

Above all else, humans are envied due to their uniqueness. Where goblins only have one hair and skin colour, humans have many. Most importantly, goblins lack a human’s unique traits. Every goblin is born just as strong and as talented as the last.”

 

I wait for her to take another breath before I interrupt.

 

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

 

“What question?”

 

I remind her, and she looks a bit surprised with herself.

 

“Oh my my, I’m sorry about that. I never have anyone who actually listens to me around here. Goblins are named based on talents they’ve developed or any bodily oddities they might have. These names mean a lot to them because they desire to be unique; to have a talent or feature all their own. It’s the closest they can get to being humans.”

 

The elder seems to ha

 

“You say ‘they’, like you don’t apply to these statements. What's your name anyway?” 

 

A careful look comes over the elder’s wrinkled face, and she opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. 

She almost looks scared.

After doing her usual routine of thinking for ten seconds, she speaks again, this time a slightly sorrowful voice.

 

“I am a hobgoblin, but I was born in a human village instead of the valley. I don’t know how a goblin impregnated my mother, but all the villagers hated me. My first memory was of a stone being thrown at me by one of the human boys. I was rarely allowed outside because of this.

 

Mother lived alone with me, and would always look at me with these mixed expressions of both fear and pity. I would help her weave baskets and pick wildflowers for her whenever I was allowed outside, but nothing changed how nervous she would get around me. 

 

I only remember being with her for five years, and it all ended one night in autumn when she got sick. Other humans barged in the front door and pulled me from my bed. They beat me loudly enough to wake my mother, who rushed into my room and yelled at the intruders to stop. The human then told my mother that I should have been left for the wolves the day I was born, and that they were simply going to do what she should have done back then.

 

I can’t remember the next few seconds very well, but my sickly mother had managed to open a window and push me. I started to limp back to the front door to help her fight the other humans off, but she started to spit insults at me. Various things about my blood and how my kind doesn’t deserve to live. All things I had heard before at that point. Eventually she threw an onion at me and told me to go live in the woods with the other monsters. The onion wasn’t as heavy or as fast as the rocks the human children would throw, but it hurt me so much more.

 

Hobgoblins are stronger than regular goblins since they inherit at least a portion of human-like traits, but mostly because they get a Unique trait like them as well. I could remember exactly what every plant I found did from my limited time outside, so I was able to live off of the berries I knew wouldn’t give me a stomachache. I found my way to the valley eventually and have been here ever since.

 

I left the name my mother had given me behind when I ran away, so the goblins all just call me Plant Picker or Elder. I wish to speak of myself no more now. It makes me age twice as fast.”

 

Whatever her father had done, it seemed to follow her every move through her early life. She had spent years being tormented by a parent she had never met. For some reason, my mind shifts back to her apologizing to me for my confinement here.

 

*Pop*

 

Dawn spits out my nipple, completely full now, which prompts a response from the Elder.

 

“Deer Catcher, would you fetch a cradle and a bison skin from the nursery?”

 

The goblin obliges without a second thought, vanishing out the front door.

 

“Why can only human women bear hobgoblins, can they not be carried by goblin women? What about hobgoblins?”

 

The topic still seems to upset the elder, but she replied anyway.

 

“Hobgoblin infants are too big for a goblin’s body to bear. The mother is forced into labor before the child is fully developed simply because they would split the mother open otherwise. I haven’t heard of any of these children surviving longer than a few minutes.

As for hobgoblins, we are completely barren. I’ve tried plenty when I was younger, but nothing ever came of it.”

 

I probably shouldn’t talk about these topics anymore if I want to still be treated nicely by the elder. 

I rub the swollen nipple that Dawn was on. It feels cold without a mouth on it.

 

“Could you teach me how to make some clothing for myself? I doubt I could fit into any spares you have lying around.”

 

This perks the Elder up noticeably, and she seems only too happy to teach me things.

 

“I would love to! Even if I don’t have a trait for it, I’ve been around for long enough to know my way around leather.”

 

Just then, Deer Catcher returns into the room with a warm-looking fur and a wooden box on rockers.

 

“Ah, thank you very much. Could you now grab a few buckskins for us?”

 

The goblin does as he’s told, but no longer seems as eager to do the bidding of the old hobgoblin.

 

“Put the child in the cradle and come help me up. I’m afraid I have gotten slightly too comfortable on my fur.”

 

I settle Dawn into the fur before walking forward and holding out a hand for the Elder to grab. She grabs a cane next to her on the ground, holds it in her armpit, and then pulls herself off the floor with my help.

 

Now that she’s standing, I finally get a chance to compare her full height with the other goblins. Toeless, who seems to live up to his name from the looks of his right foot, reaches my navel at the top of his head. The elder reaches about a foot higher, and is at eye level with my nipples.

 

Her wooden cane hits the ground rhythmically as she starts to lead me towards a table and chair in a corner of the room. Both are rather crude, but fit the Elder’s height perfectly.

 

“I’m afraid that this is the only chair in the whole village. I would like to offer it to you, but I’m afraid that I am in need of it myself.”

 

“No, no, that's quite alright. I don’t need to be sitting down to watch you.”

 

Deer Catcher returns with a few bundled of tanned leather, and hands them to the Elder, who lays one of them out on the table. She pulls a knife off of her belt which looks to be human-made, as it is made of metal. She slices the leather in half in on clean motion.

 

With a swift thunk, she drives the knife through the hide and into the table near the straight edge she just cut, and then starts to pull the skin through the knife. The knife, firmly embedded in the table, slices just the edge of the leather off, making a long thin strip.

 

“Turn around.”

 

I oblige, and she takes measures of my upper body with the leather strip as she starts talking.

 

“Do you have any ideas for your jacket? The first step for any craft is planning.” 

 

“I would like it to end above my navel so that I won't have to get a new one when I start growing.”

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“Ah, very wise, you think ahead. Anything else?”

 

I think for a moment.

 

“I would like to not have to take it off every time I have to breastfeed.”

 

“Convenient. Very well.”

 

She finishes with my measurements and I turn around to face the table.

 

“Now, since you’re so… Large... around the top area, I’ll be doing most of the work myself for the jacket. You’ll be guided through my thought process as I work, and once I’ve finished, you can try your hand on making a simple skirt.”

 

As the morning turns to afternoon, I watch the Elder’s expert hands slice patches of leather and stitch them together with leather strips. She tells me how she joins the sleeves to the body with two stitches on top of each other. Every measurement of me that she took had been perfectly memories and recalled as she sculpted the garment in front of me.

 

The end result was a cropped off jacket with long sleeves that I could untie at the front to take off or just  to free my breasts. The front of the jacket has two ties along the split, and reveals an incredible amount of cleavage. I guess there’s only so much she could cover with a non-stretchy material like hide. She stands up from her seat when she’s done, and beacons me to sit there in her place. She hands me the unused measurement strip, and tells me to cut it to the size of my waist.

 

I took the measurement right on my hips instead, which was lower than she had suggested, but I needed to save room for my belly to swell with children.

 

The skirt she has me make is incredibly simple, just a rectangle stitched together into a tube and tied at the top with a strip of hide. I don’t know if i could fuck this up if i tried. Stitching the side up was tricky, but I got it eventually with the Elder’s help.

 

“And now for the underwear. You want to cut a strip slightly larger-”

 

“It’s fine, I’ll make them on my own tomorrow. You should go get something to eat anyway, it's getting dark.” I interrupt.

 

She looks up from the table, realising how dark it’s getting.

 

“Oh my, I didn’t even notice the time! Here, come out with me. I always get first pick at the roasts.”

 

I grab Dawn from her cradle and the four of us leave the hut; I have to duck through the low doorway on my way out. The firepit in the village center is alight with both flame and activity, as legs of boar and deer roast around it. A few goblin couples dance in chaotic motions and goblin children chase each other around.

 

The Elder slowly leads me to a more quiet corner of the village center, where we sit down and Toeless fetches us some meat. The Elder offers me a rabbit leg first, and I take it in my spare hand. She turns back and starts talking with the other goblins.

 

Unable

 

Ur chimes in for the first time since I left Hel, but I ignore them. 

 

The rabbit seems to be seasoned with forest herbs, likely thanks to the elder, but it doesn’t smell very nice. I take a tentative nibble of the meat.

 

Unable

 

*URK*

 

The rabbit causes me to wretch, but dampening keeps anyone from noticing the sound. The leg doesn’t really taste like anything, but it still causes a reaction in my gut. 

I quietly spit the small piece of meat into the bushes nearby.

Dampening raised to 3 -  effects increased

“Hey Deer Catcher.” I whisper while tapping the goblin on his shoulder.

 

The goblin spins around, and I offer him the leg. He’s only too happy to oblige, and devours it in moments.

 

Something prods at me, and I look around to see what it is. No one is there.

It happens again.

No, this isn’t a physical sensation. Something is poking at my soul.

 

I look down.

 

Dawn is glaring daggers at me with her cold sky-blue eyes. Once she sees that I have her attention, her eyes drift to my breasts.

 

That soul poking must have been my Maternal Link with her.

 

I undo the top tie in my jacket and my tits spill out into the warm bonfire-heated air. Dawn latches onto one of my large nipples and begins to drink ravenously.

 

Spirit - 4/25

 

Shit, it hasn’t been even a day since I left Hel, but Dawn is draining me rapidly.

 

“Elder, when should I try for the hobgoblins?

 

The elder turns her head to face me.

 

“Usually the goblins have their relations after the feast, but this tribe hasn’t had a human around for as long as I’ve been here. You’re also a special case here, so you can take your pick after the feast as well.”

 

“I guess that’s fine with me, and if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you anyway?”

 

She chuckles slightly.

 

“Old enough to see 3 whole generations of goblins be born and die before me, and I’m only 43.”

 

So if she spent the first few years of her life with humans, that would mean that regular goblins only live about 10 years. No wonder they envy humans.

 

I settle into a semi-comfortable position as Dawn suckles, and start to think of the whole rabbit leg ordeal. Previously I had thought that I just didn’t need to eat, and that it would bring me no sustenance. Now it appears that I am entirely unable to eat whatsoever, and Ur even tried to warn me.

 

I start to think about reasons why this is. It seems like I’m only built to resemble a human on the exterior, so maybe my insides are different? I don’t need to breathe, and I gestate very rapidly, so that's two differences already. 

 

Wait, about my gestation… Dawn was a perfectly normal size for a baby, but I only looked about six months pregnant when I had her…

 

I must not have a digestive system at all.

 

It makes sense too. Why would I need one when I sustain myself off spirit instead of food?

 

Does this mean my womb can take up more space in my body? When fertile body levels up more, will I start having multiple children at once? I certainly have the ability to get larger than I did with dawn.

Only time will tell I guess.

 

I close my eyes and savor the heat around me, both from the fire and the warmth of my daughter in my arms.

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