"Chieftain?" a meek-sounding voice, polluted by the not-so-developed vocal cords of goblins spoke out as its owner stood right in front of a large and cosy tent, yet, it remained primitive in its construction.
A rough ’Mmph’ was the only answer this goblin got, prompting him to carefully push the tent door and make his way inside whilst keeping his head low.
The goblin stayed in place, fidgeting in place as he didn’t want to start speaking without authorisation.
"What’s the matter? Say whatever is on your mind" the chieftain coughed a few times.
"Hum, boss... The old Gobert has gone missing and Stolgob thinks it’s the thing he saw a few months ago that is responsible..." the goblin explained tentatively.
"Huh? That old guy?" the chieftain stood up from his seat as he waved his hand through the air.
The younger goblin finally looked up at him, seeing him pushing away the smoke accumulated around him from smoking random herbs from a worn-out wooden pipe.
Seeing smoke coming his way, the goblin reflexively held his breath as the chieftain stroked his long, grey beard thoughtfully.
"Gone, just like that? That’s weird, he was our sharpest tool in the shed too, no one knows how to put up a tent and fires like him" the chieftain of this tribe rambled for a bit before taking a puff from his pipe.
He was known as Gobstroz, the fact that the ’Gob’ in his name was at the start rather than the end indicated that he was from an older generation.
Much taller and generally larger than the rest by a wide margin, some clueless adventurers might think of him as a hobgoblin but the truth was that he was just built different.
Evacuating the smoke out from his nostrils, he dropped the pipe and crossed his arms.
"If Stolgob is so insistent about the thing he saw, it must be that Gobert went missing when going to the lake, right?"
"Yes" after holding his breath for too long, the goblin took in a deep breath and began to choke on all of the smoke.
"Ahaha! Don’t die on me and listen:" Gobstroz smacked the smaller goblin’s back.
’Damn, this one’s going to be pitch black’ he remarked to himself as he headed for the tent he and his family lived in.
It was just within sight, some goblins were even sleeping outside, since the days and night had been growing warmer recently.
As it turns out, the underground also replicated the passing of the seasons, how accurate it was to the outside, nobody knew, the goblins didn’t even know that there was an outside.
The tribe was surrounded by basic fences, built alongside trees, it was sturdy and no dangerous animal or monsters could somehow find their way inside, although the most dangerous thing around were big deer monsters with bone plates on their head.
They weren’t that aggressive either way.
The absolute darkness was soon to settle in but its reign was yet to be established, allowing the goblin to look over to the side, into the distance, seeing as far as the fence on this side of the tribe.
He saw nothing of interest but his gaze still lingered in place as he reached for the tent door, grabbing it, the goblin froze.
He hadn’t immediately realised it.
There was something right up to the fence.
No, it wasn’t as close to the fence as he first thought, it was peeking from behind one of the trees, shrouded in shadows and leaves, something whitish seemed to be there.
It was hugging the tree trunk, only allowing what looked like an arm and its head to be seen.
He was utterly frozen in fear at the mere sight of this thing, his jaw hung low and his eyes quivered as his brain failed to decide between fight or flight.
As though it could feel his state, the creature moved from behind the tree and moved right up to the fence, sticking one of its thin arms through.
Slowly moving its hand, it showed the goblin its palm and then crooked its index finger.
Mechanically moving it back and forth, urging him to come closer.
It was enough for him to break out of his trance and scream.