He moved stealthily through the halls, keeping low and quiet, careful not to make the same mistake twice.
The walls reeked of damp rot, and the light was thin—barely enough to track shadows.
Suddenly, someone bumped into him.
Instinctively, he raised his fist—then stopped inches from the creature's head.
A child.
A goblin child.
Tiny. Barely four feet tall. Hunched over. Skin stretched too tightly over bone, ribs pushing outward like cracked blades. There was no weight to him, no light in his eyes. He looked worse than dead.
Josen lowered his hand, frowning. "Hmm... you're not worth killing. And you look young."
He stepped back. "Well. Goodbye."
As he turned to go, a weak hand grabbed the strap of his bag.
"Pl—please... sir, help! Help!
Mom... Captured... big! Bad!
Save h-her!"
He froze.
"You want my help?"
The goblin nodded quickly, desperate and shaking.
Josen sighed. "We can't stay here. Someone might stroll by. Get on my back."
The frail thing climbed on slowly, gripping weakly. He felt light—too light. It was like carrying a shadow. The kid was half-dead already. He needed food, fast.
"Hey, boi. Where's a good place to hide?"
The goblin lifted a thin hand and pointed toward a nearby shed. Josen scanned the hallway—no traps, no patrols—and slipped inside.
The room was dusty, dark, and cold. An old brown table had been pushed against the door like a makeshift barricade.
He set the goblin down and dropped beside him.
"Ahh... this is tiring." He ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, what's your name?"
"Zi... Zigmo," came the weak reply.
"Zigmo, huh?" Josen smiled faintly. "Nice to meet you. You must be starving."
He dug into his bag, rummaging through compartments until he found a preserved ham leg.
"Here."
Zigmo stared at it for a second, then began to eat. Slowly, cautiously. Each bite brought more color to his face. His body started to fill out. A little weight. A little life.
"There, there. Eat up," Josen said, watching. "You looked like you needed it."
Suddenly, Zigmo stood and gave a deep bow.
"Th-thank you, kind sir! For restoring my strength. I—please—"
"Whoa, chill," Josen said, holding up a hand. "You're too hyper. Just eat."
He waited a moment, then let the silence stretch before asking,
"What happened to your mom?"
Zigmo stiffened. His gaze dropped to the ground. He didn't answer right away.
"She... didn't do what they wanted."
Josen raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"She was important," Zigmo muttered. "People used to cheer when she sang. She fought too."
He paused.
"But she picked my dad. Someone they didn't like. Said he was wasting her potential."
Josen leaned forward. "What happened to him?"
"They sent him to war," Zigmo said softly. "And kept sending him. He never made it back."
There was a bitter quiet.
"After that... they took her. Said she broke the rules."
His voice trembled, but his eyes were dry.
"People who spoke up? Gone. Or worse."
He lifted his shirt slightly to show an old scar near his ribs—jagged, purple at the edges.
"They did this when I tried to find her."
Josen stared.
"They poisoned me, I'm currently being Hunted. ," Zigmo whispered
He looked up again. And now there was fire.
"She's still alive. I know it. I just... need help."
Josen said nothing at first.
"Well, we can't stay here. Someone might stroll by. Get on my back."
The frail little thing climbed up slowly, practically weightless. He barely felt the strain. The kid was near death. He needed food, fast.
"Hey, boi. Where's a good place to hide?"
The goblin weakly pointed toward a small shed. No signs of traps or patrols nearby.
He entered carefully, checking every corner.
The room was dusty and dark—nothing but an old brown table, cracked and worn. Someone had pushed it against the door like a barricade.
He set the goblin down and sat, exhausted.
"Ahh... this is tiring. Hey, what's your name?"
"Zi... Zigmo," came the weak reply.
"Zigmo, huh? Nice to meet you. You must be starving. Let's eat."
He dug through his bag and pulled out a ham leg, offering it carefully.
Zigmo took bites slowly. With each one, he grew visibly stronger—inch by inch, pound by pound.
"There, there. Eat up."
"You looked like you needed it."
Suddenly, Zigmo jumped up and bowed deeply.
"Th-thank you, kind sir! For restoring my strength. Pl-please—"
"Relax, you're too hyper. Just eat."
But his face grew serious, concern settling in.
"What happened to your mom?"
Zigmo's eyes darkened, hardened beyond his years. He sat back down slowly.
"She's being held by the elders."
"Why? What happened?"
"When she was young... she was the village idol. The elders wanted her—her body, her voice. But she chose a simple warrior, my father. They fell in love."
He swallowed hard.
"But the elders forced him to fight endless wars until he died."
"Since then... they've been tormenting us. They even kidnapped her."
Zigmo's voice cracked.
"I tried to fight back, but their army is too strong. They poisoned me—that's why I was so weak."
"The poison was fast... nearly killed me. They've been hunting me for weeks. Please... please help me save my mother."
Josen poundered, is it worth it?
Shoild I help him?
I mean I do need to kill more goblins?
and taking over the goblin dungeon will make me grow stronger?
But is it worth it?
can he even fight?
"Heyy boi, can you fight?"
"Uh,um yes sir"
As he took a deep bow, josen couldn't help but notice how ridiculously well mannered he was, he couldn't sense any form of bloodlust form him but he could feel his strength
"Ok what's Ur weapon of choice"
"Well im pretty good with a bow"
A bow huh that's would be quite though
"Well I don't have a bow and arrow that isn't in my skillset so we gonna have to take one from an orc or something, ok?"
"Ok I'll strap my bag and let's go"
As he gripped the bag he felt on of those orbs, he pulled one out and examined it was a blue colour with a particular pattern a white crescent with two dots
He felt like asking grandpa but didn't want to do it Infront of someone he barely knows not knowing how tmzigmo would react
"I've got my daggers out you ready?"
He raised his hand slightly as he slowly click the door open, hunched over and slowly tiptoeing across the walls tracing his hand around it suddenly an orc walk by then just narrowly missing the if only it turn around before he could give other zigmo had pounced, snapping the neck of the fallen goblin
What?, how is he that fast even I could even precive how fast he was , I need to keep a closer eye on him
"Let's head to the shrine"
"Shrine??",
I wonder what constellation the goblins serve
The torchlight flickered.
Josen stepped into the chamber, and for a moment, even the air seemed to bow.
At the far end of the room stood four towering statues—ancient, cracked, and pulsing with a malevolent presence that made Zigmo flinch.
"Ok let's se—", his words were caught in his throat these definitely weren't constelations there where four of them
Four statues all towering, ancient, cracked and portraying manovelant pressure, it was so strong he felt like he could implode just from it's prescenes
Josen stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the cold stone.
The four statues loomed like gods long forgotten—twisted mockeries of something ancient. Each one radiated a foul pressure, their faces worn and cracked, but unmistakably cruel. One bore a jagged blade, another clutched a broken orb. The third had dozens of arms, each clutching a screaming face. The last... stared directly at Zigmo.
He flinched, staggering back.
"Zigmo? You good?"
He didn't reply.
His eyes locked with the statue. Something clawed into his mind—a low hum, a whisper that sounded like "Your fault... your fault... you let her be taken..."
A cage formed in his mind. Steel bars of guilt, fear, and weakness. The same cage the elders had locked him in.
"Zigmo!" Josen grabbed his shoulder—but it was too late.
From behind the statue, two shadows flickered into view.