Chapter 2:

Chapter 2 - The Forest

The Otherworldly Patron of Blood


The first things he felt waking up were the blades of grass poking his skin and the sunlight warming his face.

He stood up, the smell of earth wafting through the air. Tall trees surrounded him, coating the ground with shade. The wind flowed gently between their vibrant green leaves, rustling them quietly. He brushed his clothes off. He'd seen forests before, but he never stepped foot into one himself. He pushed his glasses up - or, would've - before realizing his glasses weren't on. Was his vision fixed on the way over? He looked down at his clothes. Instead of a light grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, he now wore a basic brown tunic and matching pants, which stayed on with a simple drawstring. Did the goddess swap his clothes too? He wondered if he could contact her with his thoughts, but after a couple seconds of intense thinking, he gave up. Perhaps he'd ask her later.

Unsure of what to do, he chose a random direction to head in and started walking. In his mind, anything was better than standing around. As he moved, he noticed several improvements in his body. The soreness in his joints that he accepted would continue for the rest of his life disappeared, and despite not losing weight, his whole body felt lighter overall. He stretched out his fingers. He could definitely get used to this.

Only after thirty minutes of constant walking did he begin to feel anything wrong.

Outside of the expected fatigue in his legs, his stomach growled, begging for food. How long had it been since he eaten? He didn't eat breakfast or lunch on the day he died, so he could only guess it'd been a day or so. But what could he eat? What counted as food? Nothing looked edible in his eyes, and even if he did find anything, was it really a good idea to shove something unknown into his mouth, especially in a world he knew nothing about? 

As he ruminated about his future meal, a voice echoed through the forest. He couldn't tell what it was saying, but he could tell it was a human's. He crouched down, approaching the source. And soon, he found it.

A goblin dangled from a tree branch, tied up and poked at by two people.

For a second, he wondered how exactly he knew it was a goblin. For all he knew, it could've been a different species of short, green-skinned humanoid with pointy ears and sharp teeth. But that didn't matter. What were these two people doing? He listened closer, hiding behind a bush.

"You really thought you could just steal our shit, huh?" The one of the left said, whacking the goblin with a stick.

"If only you hadn't stepped on our trap! Now you'll stay up there for the rest of your life!"

The goblin merely growled in response. The left person drew their blade, tying it to the end of their stick.

"No, we can't do that. Gotta kill it right now."

"What? Come on, that's a little violent, don't you think?"

"Did you forget what the goblins did to our villages back then? Entire families, entire communities, burned to ash! All because they sided with Fermigan! I-"

The right one threw his hands up in the air. "Alright, I get it! Just make it quick if you gotta do it."

"Tch, I bet you'd stand by and watch your mother die with your attitude."

"You didn't even know anyone that died from the goblin raids!"

As the two bickered, an impending sense of dread washed over Peter. He didn't know why, but something told him that the goblin's death was to be prevented at all costs. He searched his body for any sort of weapon on his person. As expected, nothing. He searched his immediate area. Several baseball-sized rocks, each with jagged edges, littered the ground next to his feet. Exactly what he needed. He grabbed one and lobbed it at the left, just before he stabbed the goblin. The rock hit the back of his head, forcing him to drop the stick and clutch his head in pain. 

 "Ow!" He yelped. "The hell was that?" 

 "Someone's throwing rocks at us!" The right one pointed directly in Peter's direction. "It came from there!"  Immediately, Peter retreated, hiding behind a nearby tree as the two searched the area. Just before the left one turned the corner to see him, the right one spoke again. "Hey, we might want to leave." 

"Why?" 

"They say goblins can tell when one of them's in danger. If any of the others know we're here, they'll rip us to shreds. Hell, that rock might've been from one of them." 

"And you didn't think of telling me this until now?" 

"I wasn't gonna interrupt your torture session." 

"By the Gods! Let's just grab our stuff and leave. The last thing I need is more goblins." The two quickly grabbed their backpacks and left, leaving the goblin tied up. Peter waited a minute to make sure the two were truly gone before leaving the tree. 

"Who are you?" The goblin growled as he saw him. 

"Uh... I'm the guy that threw the rock."

The goblin raised his eyebrow. "You understand Goblin?"

Wait, was he speaking a different language? It all sounded like perfect English to him.

"Nevermind. I need a name, stranger. Give me a name."

Peter thought about it for a while. Exposing his actual name would be troublesome, especially after what she said - plus, he didn't know the naming conventions of humans in this world. But he couldn't think up any names that didn't sound like it got thrown into a woodchipper beforehand. Eventually, he gave up. "Peter. The name's Peter."

"And what's a human like you doing, helping a goblin like me?"

"I-" Before he could give an answer, an arrow landed right next to his feet. He jumped and stumbled onto the ground, seeing another goblin emerge from another bush, bow drawn and aimed right at him.

"Stop!" The tied-up goblin yelled. "Do not kill him! He saved me! Just get me down!"

The goblin looked up at him, confused. Eventually, he dropped its bow and climbed onto the tree, chopping the rope. He jumped down to meet him, and the two turned their heads to Peter.

"I'll remember this, Peter." The once-captive goblin said. And before Peter could reply, the two disappeared into the forest.

He got up, brushing his clothes off. He searched the area; near the tree, he spotted a small dagger, still nestled in its sheath. Did the two humans forget to grab it? He made sure nobody was watching him, then stashed the dagger in one of his pockets. If he learned one thing from this goblin encounter, it was that going around the world without a weapon was a very bad idea.

Seeing no other options, he continued walking.