The Red Goblin Novels & Stories

His heart skipped a beat at what he saw below. Goblins. There must have been at least a hundred of the foul creatures, running and waving their crude swords and spears. They streamed down from a gap in the far valley wall, some distance West of where Randey stood. Where they had come from he couldn’t imagine. But though he had never actually seen a Goblin, he knew that’s what they were. He’d heard enough tales from his parents to recognize them. Their wild, guttural cries echoed from the valley walls, wafting up to Randey’s horrified ears.

I activated my sense skill. Unlike the mass of white auras that the goblin lackeys and commanders emitted, the goblin chieftain’s aura is red in my eyes. That could mean imminent power, or he is simply hostile. Inside this swamped forest, his figure stood out like a sore thumb, among all other goblins. Well, his size is like a ten-ton truck with extra muscle and ferocity, so that’s a given. Once in a while, his lower jaw; one equipped with hardened armor that shields his lower jaw to his broad neck, hung loose, and he breathed out a hot breath, as seen by the smoke going out from it.

I smile and walk down the red carpet toward my throne. Walk up three steps and twirled around, hitting my cape for a climatic effect as I sat down, crossing a leg over the other. Bastion appears on my side. The look on the three princes' faces as my Phantom Knights and other servants surrounded them. They have never seen humanoid animals and monsters living in the castle as my servants. They feel uncomfortable and threatened by how they could be easily killed on my orders. The princes had also never seen Bastian, a ghoul with gray-blue skin and bright white eyes, stand next to me as ghouls are considered flesh-eating monsters who can take on the form of the person they ate.

The goblin toddler looked at his eyes and told in a stern voice, "You don't belong here. Go away." The moment the goblin kid spoke, Azalias felt an enormous force struck his body. He flew away through the red door and crashed into the corridor wall. This time the corridor was dry. But soon, blood flew out of bloody red doors and filled it. Along with the blood pool, the ghost lady also reappeared again, looking more aggressive and frenzied. On top of that, the goblin toddler also joined with the ghost lady.

"It appears that our friends have picked up on the scent of the meat," Anthony declared abruptly. All of them turned to face the outside of the camp. "You picked up on their movement?" Gildar inquired. "Yes. They have begun to advance gradually but surely." … The Savage Catacombs In the first place, goblins had never been present in this dungeon. Out of nowhere, they showed up. There were only a few goblins at the beginning, and they were all commanded by a goblin chief. All of the goblins were red-skinned and armed with swords and pikes, which was unusual because goblins were not born with weapons.

It could have been a longer conversation, but at that moment a large goblin emerged from the bushes and blocked their way. He was big for a goblin. His olive body was mottled with red paint, and half of his face was painted black. Unlike most goblins, he had a full set of hair, shaved at the sides and tied in a thick, long braid. Even his hair had red streaks of paint on top. He held an impressive weapon in his right hand. And a very unusual weapon for a goblin. It looked like a halberd, but

My stomach sang at the sight. "Eat my dear, we have so much to discuss" Discuss? Whatever the heck are we suppose to discuss when you are going to be dead soon. Again he drank from his goblet. I wish it was poisoned. The goblin was transparent with rubies crafted in it, it contained a red content that had a slight purplish in color when moved. I can bet that isn't any ordinary wine. I shivers slightly before glancing down at the food in front of me sniffing out to know if it was poisoned or had any of that nasty stuff in it.

"And the Ghost is born. Are you certain about this, Agent? Once you step through those gates, the Bureau cannot pull you out. You are officially an unregistered rogue." "I’ve been a ghost for ten years," Dante replied, his eyes tracing the silhouette of his mother’s face on a burning photograph before it turned to cinder. "Is the Vanni introduction set?" "It is. Enzo 'The Cleaver' Vanni is bleeding thirty million dollars a week because the Marcone family is raiding his northern supply lines. He’s desperate, paranoid, and looking for unlisted muscle. But he will test you, Dante. He’ll want to see if you bleed blue or crimson."

"Marigold is gone?" "Slone used something she called a doppelgänger spell," Axel explains. "Marigold has been gone since before the wedding. It was Slone all along." Gideon turns from us, hiding his face. "I knew her for over 20 years," he cries. "Damn it, Slone! There isn't going even be a body to find. They consume the flesh when they take the form of their victims and..." he looks back at all of us. "I'm sorry Rosie, but there is no saving Slone now. She's gone too far in the wrong direction. She's committed an act of pure selfishness and evil. She will not be able to be a witch ever again. She's a warlock now and forever."

“Some kind of chosen one?” Mark’s voice was grim. “You’re the last of your kind. And the key to opening the gate.” Elara stood up. “No. This is crazy. This is—this isn’t real. I go to school. I take algebra. I’m not a—” “The moon bled red,” Evelyn said gently. Elara stopped. She looked out through the broken stained glass. The sky still shimmered with crimson clouds. The moon hung low and heavy, watching her like an eye.