The Collector consumed the spoils of its victory. It swallowed the tiny goblins whole but had to carve up the much larger hobgoblin into pieces.
It sliced apart the hobgoblin corpse with the rote and quick efficiency of a seasoned butcher with its claws, not at all interested in savoring the specimen's taste as the fight it had offered was now beneath the Collector, not worthy of respect nor slow tasting.
As the Collector's digestive system broke down the fresh corpses, it searched their memories utilizing notable keywords that would better uncover the nature of the darker zone of this forest environment.
But in specifically searching the hobgoblin's memories, the Collector utilized the keyword of 'lord.'
The conversation between the overgrown goblin and its lesser kin had not eluded the Collector, and it understood the connotation of a 'lord' as an authoritative figure, very likely the leader of these dens.
Considering the goblins and their kind followed a societal hierarchy that valued strength and size above all else, the Collector surmised that this 'lord' was significantly more powerful than even the hobgoblins.
The memories came, and the Collector immersed itself into them.
______________________
Grun took tentative steps forward, looking around himself to see nothing but shadows. He could only follow the heavy footsteps in front of him, the steps of the champion.
Never before had Grun seen a goblin so big, so wide.
He remembered when the champion first showed up.
Out of nowhere, almost, from the dark side where nobody was ever supposed to go, where light never shone and big monsters were everywhere.
At first, Grun thought maybe he had drunk too much of the stolen spicy water from the humans that made him see all fuzzy and gave him headaches afterwards.
There were no other hobgoblins here other than Grun and his younger brother Gron. They had all died ten years ago when the humans killed them and took their land.
But the champion was real. Very real. His punches made sure of that.
The champion told Grun to swear fealty, and although Grun did not know what that big word meant, he could still understand the intention, the challenge, behind it.
Grun was mighty, he knew it, mightier than any of the little ones he protected, mightier than Gron, his younger brother.
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Together, Grun thought he and his brother Gron were the mightiest there were, the strongest of the few survivors left from the human attack ten years ago, when the strong humans chased everyone away with swords and fire and built their big buildings and moved in their cows over the dens and grasses that once belonged to the goblins.
But Grun began to understand he knew nothing. He fought the champion, and the champion beat Grun in just three minutes, even without the big armor and axe he brought with him.
Gron, younger and weaker than Grun, did not do much better either.
Now, both of them and the little ones under them were travelling through the dark side their elders, back when they were alive, had told them they were never supposed to go to, all to meet someone the champion called the lord.
Grun shivered, the first time he had done so in many years. He had lived through fifteen cycles of seasons, but never before had he felt such cold before. Never before had he seen such darkness.
His eyes could see at night and in the pits, and he often used his good eyes to sneak up on the humans who could not see so well in the dark, but this darkness was nothing like the night.
It was so dark Grun could see nothing. Just black. Just shadow.
To the point that Gron followed right behind Grun to avoid being lost, putting a hand on his older brother's shoulder to make sure he knew where he was. The little ones did much the same, holding their hands together and huddling around Gron and Grun.
"Do not worry," said the raspy voice of the champion. "Light grows thin here, but all is good. I know the path to avoid the spiders. And do not feel bad about losing to me and falling under the lord.
I was like you two once. Young and thought myself mighty. You will learn as you have now with my fists. The lord is might itself. Under his generosity, you will find new purpose."
Grun felt Gron tap his shoulder in questioning, but Grun could only grunt in response, not knowing anything about this lord, just that he was strong, very strong, if even the champion served him.
---The memories flickered and moved further ---
Underground.
But not in something small and cramped like a den. Something far, far bigger. Grun had seen the likes of it. Sometimes, strong monsters lived in holes like the big worm by the river.
But this pit was much bigger than any he had ever seen, hidden away far, far up, deep and deep into the dark place nobody was supposed to go and where nobody did go.
"Kneel, hobgoblins, before lord Zoll, last of the royal blood," came a commanding and aged voice. A hunch backed hobgoblin uttered the command with a flourish of his hand, the rattle of bone bracelets and accessories on his arm and neck accentuating the movement.
His dull blue eyes peered through the sockets of a skull helmet, looking at Grun and Gron with cold contempt. When the bone wreathed goblin approached, Grun and Gron felt a chill settle in their hearts, forcing them to stare down, to not meet those chilling eyes.
The goblin circled the hobgoblin brothers then grunted. "The natives here are pitiful. Though this one," said the goblin as it tapped Grun's shoulder. "Has managed to awaken his roots if even the slightest bit.
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But that is it. Even as hobgoblins, they are small and brutish. My brethren to the north will provide you far better stock to be your champions, my lord."
"Quiet yourself, Hrunt. All goblinkind, no matter how little, how backwards they have become in the centuries I have slumbered, will find a place by my side.
How sad a state my people have gone into, our old kingdom once great and tall reduced now to nothing, our people scattered as pests to be hunted down by the humans and their gods.
I will break the humans down, bring forth our numbers back once more with their flesh, and establish our kingdom once more, and under the great shadow it will cast, all of us shall thrive while men and their gods die.
Grun knelt down with Gron by his side, knowing by now that they were facing something far bigger than what they were. The littles ones knelt behind them and trembled as the echoing waves of the lord's voice washed over them.
"Come, look here, my children," said the lord. "And know I bring you a chance to prove yourselves. Fight for me and prove your worth. Bring me human skulls. Bring me the lands they have taken from you.
Find the dull embers hatred and vengeance in your hearts long forgotten by living in contented sloth and stoke them again."
Grun looked up. There was light there. A single source, but just a little bit in so much darkness made Grun want to run over to it, to go under that bit of warmth no matter what it cost.
The light came from the lord. From a big sword in his hand made of shiny metal, the kind that the human adventurers would use. The lord was a big goblin just like Grun and his brother, but even bigger.
Not bigger than the champion, but still, there was something different about the lord.
Something on the lord's face, his red eyes that shone with power that was equal parts threatening and comforting, like being beside a raging wildfire on a cold winter's day, one step away from burning or freezing in the dark.
And if Grun had to choose between the cold dark and the terrifying heat in front of him, he would choose the warmth.
________________
The memories ended.
>>>
*Biomass gained (+35)*
Biomass Level: 90/100
>>>
The Collector clicked its mandibles, pleased at the thirty-five points of biomass the hobgoblin gave.
It processed the significance of the hobgoblin's memories, identifying threats within them.
The goblin champion. A sizable specimen possessing advanced musculature, tusks, white skin, and, curiously, thick, protective metal coverings and a large, crushing and slicing weapon of far better craftsmanship and quality than the roughly carved clubs the hobgoblins wielded.
The other larger goblin, the one with bones decorating its body, seemed thinner and shorter, about as large as the normal hobgoblins, and yet, the hobgoblins deferred to it. Under what metric, the Collector did not know yet.
It did not seem that the bone decorated goblin was a physically superior specimen. Perhaps the hobgoblins deferred to it on basis of age.
The goblin lord. In bulk, between the size of the hobgoblin and the goblin champion, and yet possessing of distinctive authority. Whether that authority sourced itself solely form a strength based superiority the Collector could not confirm, but considering the simple, power focused nature of the goblin society, it seemed likely.
However, the goblin lord and the other variants in the dark zone were more sophisticated than the hobgoblins here, articulating their thoughts and utilizing their language in a much fuller extent. That would indicate a greater probability of higher thinking and tactical acumen.
Troublesome.
The Collector went about extracting other details from the lesser goblins' corpses such as the location of their den for additional clues, further specifications on the locations of the other goblin dens located in this dark zone, the exact nature of threats in the dark zone itself, and, finally, more details of this goblin champion and lord.
The Collector sifted through its thoughts as it moved, heading now to the den of the slaughtered goblins to pick up any additional clues there.
It determined it would have to reach the third metamorphosis level before challenging the darker zone.
Unfortunately, there would not be more goblins there for it seemed the vast majority of them had moved to the other den, and those, the Collector had already consumed.
The Collector would have to find another biomass source.
From the goblins' memories, aside from the goblins, it knew that the primary predator that lived in the darker zone were spiders affected by some gigantification mutation, causing them to become almost as large as humans.
Those, coupled with the new threats of this goblin 'champion' and, more importantly, lord, meant the Collector had to evolve first before challenging this new environment and its threats.
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