Story Of A Goblin

The prowler only seemed slightly disappointed at the failure of its attack, its slitted golden eyes glowing in anticipation and excitement. It seemed to be really enjoying the hunt. Not every day it hunted a prey as slippery as Kraz. 

A prey who could anticipate its attack even when it was invisible. Nevertheless, the prowler seemed confident in its ability to take down a creature of Kraz's size because it looked so calm for having missed its surprise attack. 

Kraz meanwhile wondered if the prowler in front of him had ever missed his surprise attacks. He was incredibly lucky to survive the first attack. 

He did not like looking at the prowler that nearly ended his life. However, if he removed his focus from the prowler, it would have enough time to camouflage itself and become invisible again.

He kept his eyes locked on the prowler, wondering how an over two thousand-pound creature could move so gracefully and soundlessly. Its sleek and shiny grey fur barely hiding the rippling muscles underneath. 

The prowler stared back at him with its mesmerizing golden eyes, calmly sitting on its haunches, head cocked to the side. The prowler's stare was unnerving. Kraz could feel his heart pounding from having to look at a creature that was so much more powerful than him. The aura of the prowler was oppressive, activating his instinctual fear but he maintained his gaze.

"Fear is for the prey. I am not prey," he muttered, trying to boost his confidence.

Their staring match continued, resulting in a stalemate. 

He was the first person to lower his gaze, but not because he was afraid. No, he wanted to ensure he would be the first person to make the first move. 

If he stayed too still, he would lose the initiative and the creature would pounce. The prowler was faster, stronger, far bigger and had access to magical abilities from its shadow core. He was playing a deadly balancing game. He needed to keep the prowler within his sights while giving it enough distance so the prowler wouldn't tear him with its deadly fangs and sharp claws. 

If he lost sight of the prowler, it would go back to being invisible. If he got too close, the prowler would rip him to shreds. It was a deadly game he was playing. It reminded him of bullfighting where any little mistake was deadly.

To make matters worse, every strategy he could think of seemed like time-wasting strategies to him. Nevertheless, time-wasting was better than being gobbled up by the prowler. 

But first, he needed to break the stalemate to his advantage. Creating more distance from the prowler would be ideal as he knew the prowler could leap fast and hard.

Clutching the now broken spear, Kraz bent low, close to the bushes like a coiled spring, ready to dive to either side. Crouching even lower, he jerked left, saw the prowler leap, then suddenly checked his movement and dived right, jumping with every fiber of his being out of the prowler's path. 

The prowler, falling for the feint leaped left after him, only to see Kraz change direction at the last moment. It leaped, all two thousand pounds of sleek feline muscle diving after Kraz or where he was supposed to be. 

Seeing the feint, the prowler lashed out with one of its claws. It missed Kraz, landing on empty ground but its claw still managed to graze Kraz on the ribs. Kraz had managed to escape another of its attacks.

Furious, the almost bored feline face of the prowler became a mask of rage as it saw its prey escape its grasp yet again. Growling, the prowler turned to face Kraz, the prey that dared to escape its lunges twice. 

Kraz meanwhile winced in pain as the stray claw tore a gash through his vest, ripping it and grazing his ribs underneath. 

Dropping one of the broken spear pieces, he held his bleeding side. Luckily, the wound wasn't too deep. It was a shallow cut.

Looking down at the remaining broken spear piece in his hands, he grimaced in pain, coiling his hands back for a throw. He had to maintain the momentum or he would become prowler food. Fortunately, the broken spear in his hand was the part with the spear tip attached. The prowler itself was getting ready for another pounce so he needed to act fast and interrupt its action. 

He flung the spear with all his might, watching it sail towards the prowler. At this distance, his aim was impeccable.

Sadly, the prowler also saw the spear tip coming. With a deft swipe of its paw, the prowler deflected the puny spear shaft from its path, leering at Kraz's weak attempt to harm it. Nevertheless, Kraz was still very happy with his throw. The prowler had stopped its attempt to pounce on him.

The prowler, flustered from its previous failure in catching such a puny prey and stunned by its prey's resourcefulness, was gaining back its confidence, even beginning to enjoy itself again. Kraz was proving an entertaining prey. It had hunted and eaten little goblins before, but Kraz was the only one that had proven to be this problematic.

Kraz would have turned his back and run away but he was slower than the prowler, especially at such short distances. Getting close to the creature for a melee fight was also not an option as he was smaller and weaker than the big cat. His options were limited. 

Reaching behind his back, he fumbled at the long case on his back, retrieving a sleek javelin, half his height. The javelin was far shorter than his previous spear and seemed like a toothpick to the prowler, but it was all Kraz had right now. He would be damned if he did not put up a fight before he was eaten by the prowler. 

Nevertheless, he shouldn't have been fighting the prowler head-on in the first place. He knew something was wrong when he didn't see his tribe waiting at the promised location. 

'Lure the prowler here and we will take care of the rest,' Shuska had said. The hobgoblin was nowhere in sight and his skills were desperately needed against this type of creature. If he survived this, he would make sure to punch Shuska's smug face in. Even challenge him for leadership.

Pulling his mind back to the problem in front of him, he watched the prowler closely. At least he could see the prowler. That was better than nothing. 

As if to disagree with his thoughts, the prowler stood perfectly still in concentration. Its grey fur began to distort, taking on the colors of the forest, some parts turning green and others brown, merging seamlessly with the background. It was as if he was watching a chameleon change colors, but the prowler's change seemed superior. Parts of its body were already indistinguishable from the forest around it.

If he didn't do anything, soon the prowler would be fully camouflaged, becoming invisible again. He needed to stop it from camouflaging itself fully. 

He did not want to fight an enemy he could not see, especially one that had access to stealthy abilities and magic. He wasn't even sure whether the vine that tripped him earlier was due to his own clumsiness or an illusion trick from the prowler.

To stop the camouflage process, he did something the creature did not expect. Knowing that the prowler needed to concentrate to use its core magic, he began hooting, jumping and screaming, hoping to distract the prowler from camouflaging itself with its core magic. 

That was indeed the power of a shadow core—a camouflage so thorough that you couldn't be seen by the naked eyes. If the prowler went invisible again, then he would be at a serious disadvantage.

His shouting seemed to work as the prowler which was halfway camouflaged snapped back into full view. 

Responding to the raucous disturbance, the prowler released a bone shaking growl in anger, furious at Kraz for interrupting its camouflage process. The prowler was the perfect visage of an angry feline. Teeth bared, head lowered. 

It was pissed, but it was better enraged than cold and calculating. Kraz needed all the advantage he could get and an enraged but visible predator was better than an unseen calculating one. At least in his opinion.

Enraging the prowler may seem stupid, but at least it was better than fighting what he couldn't see or hear. His previous feat of anticipating the creatures attack through scent alone was astounding but dependent on luck. He had a feeling he wouldn't be lucky twice, especially now the creature was aware of his tricks and tactics. 

The prowler stalked forward and Kraz readied his javelin to meet the creature head on, heart thumping in his chest, throat dry in anticipation. Throwing the javelin was not an option as this was the last sizable weapon in his hands. 

Since reincarnating in this world, Kraz had never fought a creature of this caliber, even on group hunts with the tribe. The tribe had only taken on this risk because of the magnitude of the reward—the hope for a shadow core. 

Sharir, their shaman, had said that the shadow core would grant anybody that got it amazing powers. Especially those relating to stealth. 

The shadow core had intrigued Kraz a lot as he was the tribe's main scout and needed all the stealth he could get. Plus, he desperately needed a core. 

Bringing his mind back to the present, he looked at the prowler, who glared right back at him. The prowler seemed to be expecting another trick from him but Kraz was out of options.

What remained was to choose the way he died. Either he went out in a blaze of glory attacking the prowler head on or he turned his back and was picked off like prey. The former option felt better to him. 

Gritting his teeth, he made to attack the creature but at that moment saw his salvation. 

Above the prowler's head, motes of light began to gather, coming from somewhere on the left. The prowler didn't notice, its eyes totally locked on Kraz, ready to pounce on him. Kraz on the other hand noticed the motes of light gathering. He had seen this ability before and knew the source. Shuska had arrived. 

He grinned broadly, pausing his attack and leering at the prowler, taunting it even more. The prowler was stunned on seeing this sudden change in behavior and paused, suspecting another trick. 

Kraz on the other hand was undeterred. Jumping and shouting, he made sure to keep the prowler's focus on him, screaming even louder and jumping from side to side. 

He previously wanted to attack the prowler and go out in a blaze of glory. But now he could see a great opportunity.

Right now, stalling for time is more important. The prowler still did not notice the motes of light gathering above its head, the rage on its face turning to bewilderment. 

Kraz meanwhile was excited. The motes of light were Shuska's ability. 

In the tribe, there were several of them that had useful cores but Kraz felt Shuska had the most useful of them all. A light core.

Plus, Shuska was also the leader of the tribe, so if he was close by then the others wouldn't be far behind. He just had to keep the prowler occupied so the others could arrive and take it by surprise.

The gathering light motes suddenly began spinning rapidly in a spiral, moving in an ever tighter arc until all the light motes collided into each other. What followed next was a flash so bright, it bathed the entire forest in its luminous radiance. 

Stunned by the sudden burst of bright light, the prowler stumbled backwards, the explosion of light brief but blazing in its intensity. 

Kraz was also blinded by the explosion of light but since he was familiar with Shuska's ability, he was of course more prepared. Plus, it was not on his face the explosion of light had occurred, unlike the prowler. 

He also knew how Shuska's light behaved so he was better prepared.

He closed his eyes for half a second then opened them. Closing his eyes during the burst of light, had spared him from any effects of flash blindness. 

Shuska's light explosion was exceedingly brief but the prowler didn't know that. He needed to take advantage of the prowler's momentary blindness before it recovered. 

Craning his neck, he spotted the prowler still fumbling about. This was the kind of opportunity he wanted. It would be stupid to waste it. Honing in on the prowler's snarling face and blinking eyes, he ran and then leaped, using both hands to grip the javelin and deliver an overhead stab with all his might. The prowler, still in a daze, did not see Kraz approach. 

Kraz struck true, half of the javelin's length was buried in one of the prowler's eyes. Kraz clutching the javelin, dangled from the remaining half not buried in the prowler's eyes. 

As he succeeded in plunging the javelin into the prowler's left eye, all hell broke loose. 

The prowler released a powerful roar of agony, then whimpered, shaking its head to free it from the source of its pain. Its powerful neck muscles bulged and with a powerful flick of its head, it shook Kraz from its head, flinging him some distance away. 

Kraz flew and hit a tree, remained stuck there for half a second and then fell to the forest floor like a rag doll. The impact of his head on the tree knocked him unconscious.

Meanwhile, the prowler whimpering in pain brought its paw to its injured eye, attempting to pluck off the pesky javelin but only succeeding in inflicting more pain on itself. It roared in pain and attempted to pluck off the javelin again, but its effort pushed the javelin deeper. 

Frustrated, it roared in anger and frustration, haunches raised, its uninjured eye searching for the source of its torment.

Turning around, the prowler saw Kraz some distance away, lying unconscious on the forest floor. With a growl of rage, the prowler rushed the unconscious Kraz, Jaws open, dripping with saliva, ready to avenge the injury dealt to it. 

From seemingly nowhere came a rock, zipping fast at the prowler's only good eye. Even enraged, the prowler still had the supreme reflexes of a graceful cat. it reacted in time, ducking its head low to avoid the incoming projectile. 

However, the rock wasn't the only thing coming at him. Dodging the rock and blinded in one eye, it didn't see the sticky substance that was shot at its hind legs. It staggered, its momentum arrested as its hind legs got tangled up in the sticky webbing. The prowler attempted to use its front paw to tear off the webbing on its leg but was met by a barrage of rocks, spears and sticks.

Seemed the tribe had arrived. Goblins adorned with leaves for camouflage began encircling the prowler, throwing rocks and spears at the large feline. It balked at the projectiles, then roared. Ignoring the barrage, it tore off the webbing with its fang. Only a few spears managed to injure it.

With its powerful hind legs now free, it leaped out of the encirclement. It wasn't running away though, its target was Kraz, some distance away, still lying on the floor unconscious. 

The prowler was no longer hunting. All it wanted now was vengeance. Kraz had injured it gravely, and it wanted, desperately wanted to repay the favour. 

Now free of the encirclement, it attempted sprinting to the spot Kraz was laying on but a beam of light blinded it for a moment. 

Now smarter, the prowler leaped back from the beam, closing its eye for a split second. It opened its eyes again, searching for the source of the light beam. 

The source of the beam revealed itself to be a hobgoblin. Unlike Kraz, the hobgoblin was tall enough to stare the prowler at eye level. The hobgoblin was even better equipped, holding a round shield on one hand and a long arming sword on the other hand. It had a determined look on its face.

The prowler, seeing the new contender, roared in anger. This was the person that had blinded it, allowing Kraz to injure its eyes.

The prowler was torn. Go after the latest threat or continue on its progress of vengeance.