In the morning, they appeared.

Goblins.

Bunches of goblins.

Hundreds of goblins.

They kept appearing.

In the afternoon, they had surrounded the entire village.

Almost a thousand goblins.

And yet… they did nothing.

Not one spoke.

Not one moved.

The river running past the village, making a natural moat, was unimpeded.

The walls protecting the village were untouched.

Nothing was happening on the east side.

Nothing was happening on the west, north or south sides either.

Nothing was being dug underneath.

Nothing was flying overhead.

They just stood there.

They weren’t unarmed.

They clearly came for a fight.

And yet they did nothing.

Just…

staring…

at…

the…

village.

The guards began to mutter ‘enchantment’ to each other.

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Kara’Ul, matriarch of the Ratha-Kul (“Pointy Kill - Feast”) tribe just stood there, surrounded by her family.

One of her sons was the war general, Hrar’Ul.

Another of her sons was the goblin chieftain himself, Raheh’Ul.

To have gathered so much power for themselves, for HER to control…

Such good boys.

Hrar’Ul wanted to kill Raheh’Ul and sieze the throne himself, but instead he waited.

She was the one who told him to do so.

So he waited.

Such a good boy.

Raheh’Ul wanted to kill Hrar’Ul and remove all rivals to the throne, but instead he also waited.

Such a good boy.

The Ara-Kul (“Bite Into - Feast”) tribe had just lost their leader and a civil war was imminent.

They were always weak, but now they would get even weaker.

It was the perfect time to attack, especially during the harshest season of the year.

Her two sons can kill each other only AFTER food and slaves have been secured.

However, instead she came here.

They ALL came.

All of the goblin tribes.

Come to the human village.

Great power can be yours if you just come.

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By three o’ clock they were still moving everything and everyone into the nipplefort.

Back then, they were thankful for the delay. Every minute not spent fighting was another life that could be protected and fed.

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The pathetic Ara-Kul tribe was to the right of hers, and the hated Bara-Uk (“Bash-Rip”) tribe was to the left.

Nobody talked.

Nobody taunted.

It wasn’t needed.

Great power can be yours if you wait.

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By four o’clock everyone was safe, and now the secondary objectives like clothing and equipment could be moved.

Even then, they were thankful. If it turned into a siege and the outer walls fell everyone could still hold out for a possible rescue in relative security.

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Her baby kicked from inside her again. It didn’t like the cold weather.

Heh. From the kicking she could tell. This child was going to be a girl.

Good.

Children are a goblin woman’s power.

The more children, and by extension the more grandchildren you have, the more opportunities you have.

Another girl.

Since there was nothing else to do, she began to plan the child’s future. Since she was HER child, she would most likely grow up to be a beauty as well. She would need to learn a lot of things about how to control, handle, and please the men her mother would set up for her.

Hopefully she will learn how not to get in the way of her older sisters first.

If not, well, hopefully she will taste as good as her own mother’s sister did.

Great power can be yours if you wait.

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By five o’clock things had turned… somewhat peaceful, or at least as peaceful as can be managed with an army outside your door.

By this time the guards were getting paranoid.

They began to mutter, “What are they waiting for?”

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Kara’Ul was frustrated, and hungry.

Why are we still waiting?

Great power was promised.

Goblins can be patient if there’s something to be gained.

Many a goblin has lain still in its own feces for hours, days even, waiting for prey.

As the sun lowered itself towards the horizon, and the evening started creeping in, there was a new feeling in the air.

Great power can be yours if you die.

Ah. So that’s why.

Raheh’Ul swung his axe, and removed her head from her body.

Hrar’Ul drove his spear into her belly, slaying his unborn sister.

Even in this, they knew their places and treated her with the respect she deserved as they slew her first.

As her head rolled on the ground, it stopped enough for her to see them aiming at each other, timing themselves to strike a mortal blow at the same time. With the final seconds of her life, she could see the respect each had for the other.

Both of them, worthy opponents.

Such good boys.

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By six o’clock all of the goblins were dead.

Unease turned into outright panic.

Goblins who had swords… fell on them.

Those who had daggers sliced their own necks open.

Those who had axes swung at the ones who had clubs, and vice versa.

The ones who carried spears placed the butts of their weapons onto the ground… and impaled themselves by simply walking forward onto them.

The worst part of it, what made it the most eerie, was that through it all not one goblin screamed.

There was almost a thousand goblins…

No.

In this world where magic is omnipresent and death can come at ANY time from ANY direction, even a single corpse is bad news.

There was almost a thousand dead bodies on the ground.

Gallons of blood flowed out from their corpses, but instead of just soaking into the earth it… moved.

Flowing into a stream.

The entire village was literally surrounded by a circle of fresh blood.

A circle which began glowing.

So...

I spent all this time researching goblins and other tribal races, putting together how life is like for them, what they do in their spare time, all sorts of goblin politics...

And then I just turned my back on all that and had them all commit suicide.

So.

Time well spent?

(*helpless shrug*)

I wonder if something similar happened to this world's dinosaurs, and the whole meteor thing was just part of a cover-up.

Actually... that's make for a neat short story, wouldn't it?