Goblins of Aranath

Among the many creatures that dwell in the shadowed corners of Aranath, few are as reviled, or as persistent, as the goblin. Small, wiry, and hunched from generations spent beneath the earth, the goblins are believed to be a degenerated offshoot of the orcish race, shaped by centuries of isolation, darkness, and infighting. What remains is a race defined by cunning, cruelty, and an unrelenting will to survive, even as their kind tears itself apart.   Origins and Nature   According to both Imperial scholars and orcish shamans, the goblins first appeared in the northern reaches of Bariatok , where the orcish tribes once waged wars against ancient giants and dragons. Those who fled underground or were driven into the shadowed places of the world gradually changed, shrinking in stature, their skin mottling to hues of green, grey, and brown. Over centuries, their minds sharpened even as their spirits withered.   Legends among the orcs tell of a great curse laid upon their cowardly kin by the spirits of the mountains, damning them to forever live in darkness. Whether myth or truth, few would deny that goblins have become creatures of the deep: hunched, sharp-eyed, and perpetually snarling, with long claws suited for digging and jagged teeth for tearing both flesh and carrion.   Society and Infighting   Despite their size and apparent savagery, goblins are not without intelligence or structure. Their tribes often number in the hundreds, each led by a self-proclaimed chieftain, shaman, or “deathspeaker.” They dig sprawling lairs and tunnels that can extend for miles beneath the hills and forests of Bariatok, crafting crude weapons and building ramshackle fortresses of wood, bone, and stone.   Yet their greatest strength, their numbers, is also their downfall. Goblin tribes are in a constant state of war with one another, driven by jealousy, superstition, and blood feuds that stretch back generations. Even the most powerful goblin warlord can rarely hold a confederation together for more than a few years before it collapses into rebellion and slaughter.   This relentless cycle of violence has ensured that goblins remain a scattered threat rather than a unified one. In the eyes of the Empire, they are a nuisance more than an existential danger, though the Wailing Chasm in northern Bariatok, home to countless tribes, remains under close watch for signs of unification.   Faith and the Cult of Death   Goblins revere a single, nameless deity whom they identify only as Death. To them, death is both god and law, a force that governs all things and to which every act of violence or sacrifice is devoted. Their shamans speak of “feeding the silence,” offering slain foes to the darkness as gifts to Death’s ever-hungry maw.   Wherever goblins dwell, crude effigies of bones and skulls can be found, often carved into walls or strung on lines of sinew. Death is not feared among them, it is adored. To die in service of the tribe or in slaughter is the greatest honor a goblin can achieve. Some believe that this fatalistic devotion fuels their fearlessness in battle, where they hurl themselves at enemies with manic fervor, shrieking praises to the void.   Relations with Other Races   Though most races view goblins as vermin to be exterminated, occasional pragmatism breeds uneasy alliances. Some orcish clans trade with goblin tribes, exchanging food, metal, or slaves for scavenged goods. Ogres and other monstrous races have been known to enslave entire tribes, forcing them to dig tunnels or serve as expendable front-line fodder.   To humans, elves, and dwarves, goblins represent the basest reflection of civilization, a mockery of order and progress. An Imperial garrison commander once described them as “rats who learned to wear armor.” Still, wise leaders know better than to underestimate them; an undetected goblin warren can grow from a minor infestation to a small army in a matter of months.   Habitats and Behavior   Goblins shun sunlight, though they are not harmed by it. Their preference for the dark is instinctual, a comfort born from millennia underground. They thrive in caves, ruins, and the endless tunnels beneath Bariatok’s northern hills, particularly around the Wailing Chasm . Within these depths, their screeches echo like laughter, and their fires glow like sickly stars.   They are scavengers by nature, feeding on anything from hunted beasts to the remains of their own dead. Goblins value nothing but survival and dominance; mercy and compassion are alien concepts to them. Their cunning, however, is undeniable. They trap their lairs with crude yet effective devices, and their ambushes are infamous for their ruthlessness.   Legacy   Though they will never rival the great nations of Aranath, goblins endure. Empires rise and fall, yet goblins remain, lurking in the dark corners of the world, waiting for scraps of power to fall within reach. To most, they are a pestilence, annoying, unending, and beneath notice. But to those who have faced a swarm of them beneath a dying moon, they are something far worse: proof that even the smallest creatures can drag a kingdom into darkness, one bite at a time.