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reborn as a goblin

my name is Kevin I been reincarnated in a magic fantasy world but why am I a evil goblin

Yeet_Ter · Fantasía
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16 Chs

camp

As I looked around, taking in my surroundings with a newfound calmness, I saw the dense woods encircling me, their towering trees casting intimidating shadows that seemed to watch my every move. The field where I had awoken proved to be a suitable spot to set up camp—a circular clearing nestled amidst the protective embrace of the forest.

Gathering sticks and rocks, I began constructing a bonfire at the center of the clearing, ensuring it would provide both warmth and a deterrent against any unwelcome visitors. With the leftover sticks, sturdy and long, I fashioned the framework for a tent, binding them together with makeshift ropes woven from plant fibers. Gathering leaves from the treetops, I fashioned a makeshift canopy to serve as the tent's cover, offering protection from rain and snow.

With the tent now erected, I took a moment to sate my hunger with the berries I had collected earlier, preparing for the night ahead. Lighting the fire, I settled into a routine of sleeping in intervals, ensuring I remained vigilant against potential threats.

Throughout the night, I kept watch, my senses attuned to the slightest rustle of leaves or snap of a twig. Despite the darkness and the eerie silence of the forest, a sense of tranquility washed over me, borne from the knowledge that I had taken the necessary precautions to safeguard myself against the unknown.

As the fire burned low and exhaustion began to weigh heavily upon me, I allowed myself to succumb to sleep, knowing that I had done all I could to ensure my safety. In that moment, amidst the quiet solitude of the wilderness, I found a sense of peace—a reassurance that no matter what challenges lay ahead. As I awoke to the soft light filtering through the trees, my mind immediately turned to the pressing need for a weapon. Scouring the woods for suitable materials, I gathered sturdy branches for a bow and harvested plant fibers to fashion a makeshift bowstring. With painstaking effort, I whittled jagged points onto sticks to serve as arrows, knowing full well their limitations against formidable foes.

Surveying my camp, I pondered potential improvements, considering how to fortify my makeshift shelter and secure my surroundings against potential threats. The solitude weighed heavily upon me, a stark reminder of my newfound isolation. While goblins were known for their greed and lack of respect, they also thrived in packs or tribes—a fact that now left me acutely aware of my vulnerability.

Driven by a primal urge to establish my dominance and secure my legacy, I resolved to build a tribe of my own. However, the absence of goblin communities in the area posed a significant challenge. I realized that to create a tribe, I would need offspring—a prospect that both intrigued and unsettled me.

Despite the inherent risks and moral quandaries, the allure of building a powerful goblin tribe proved irresistible. With a steely determination, I pushed aside doubts and fears, focusing instead on the practicalities of securing a mate and ensuring that I have a large tribe in the future I thought of the differences that goblins would have because of there mothers. I thought about wolfs and if a goblin with a wolf mother will have claws or fangs maybe even will be hairyim unsure and will prepared myself to find out.