You might not believe me Journal, but Goblins aren’t so bad once you get to know them.
Last night, as I was looking for a place to sleep, I happened to come across a small party of Goblins. They had set up a campsite and had plenty of food, and they all seemed quite happy. When I approached them, the nearest one took hold of his bow and aimed at me. “Wait!” I exclaimed. Normally, a Goblin would probably have just shot me and looted my corpse of its belongings, but I spoke their language. The one with the bow stopped, asking “You speak Goblin?”. “Of course,” said I, “don’t you know who I am?”. I knew they didn’t know, but I figured they’d be easy to teach. I was met with blank expressions of anticipation. “I, am the Great and Powerful Balzac!” I reached into the heavens and made a small light show with some simple magic. Their faces changed into false recognition and true wonderment. Being Goblins, they didn’t really know what to say next, so I took the initiative. “May I join you for the evening?” They waited, I waited. Finally, one of the fatter ones spoke up, “Okay, but you can’t sleep in our tents!” We all laughed, and I sat at their fire.
The night went on, with stories told of many battles. Some were so gruesome that I had to stop eating for a while. I learned that they were of the Mosswood tribe, and had been sent to retrieve another party that had become lost in this area. It came to be my turn and I decided to tell the story of the Goblins’ creation, of the four Goblin Hero-Gods and their exchange of loyalty to Lamashtu for their own realm in the Abyss.
By time I finished my story, the majority of the party had fallen asleep. I decided it would be best to also call it a night. I was certain that tomorrow would be an eventful day.