Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The one in front of him may be a decoy for all he knew! All of this could be an elaborate trap!

Flexing his muscles, a vein popped out on his bald head as he declared his identity:

"I am Stolgob! Second strongest of my tribe! You think you can take me?!" he wasn’t bluffing, he had stopped a charging deer with his bare hands just the other day, his body wasn’t thin and his belly wasn’t chubby like the typical goblin.

He would knock the first fool who thought so on his ass with a single punch.

Still, no response of any sort came from the mysterious being in front of him.

Stolgob couldn’t even tell if that thing was looking at him or not, he could only hope that he hadn’t been trying to intimidate a plant with a funny shape.

’I’ll just run away and come back another time…’ the goblin had already decided on what he would do, he could always impress Irgob another time.

"Clack!" a loud snap split the silence, startling the goblin to jump up for an instant as the sound of water being troubled followed immediately after.

When the creature had finished crawling out of the water, he was already long gone, having sprinted away at full speed right through the underbrush.

’Pity’ Loimos thought flatly, as he gazed in the direction the green man had run toward.

He had already lost his chance the second the goblin had backed away from the shore, everything after that was just to test him.

’Stolgob, tribe, second’ listing off a few things he had learned about the buff little goblin.

It seemed obvious to the skeleton that he wouldn’t win in a frontal confrontation, the smaller monster was clearly experienced and fairly powerful, at least by comparison to himself.

The original plan had failed superbly but it didn’t matter much, he had seen the goblin holding onto buckets, they came to get water from here, he would have many more occasions to get a hold onto one of them.

He went back into the water and submerged himself, lowering his body down but remaining right up the shore.

The soil here was soft and somewhat muddy, using his fingers to dig into the side of the shore, he buried himself under a thin layer of dirt.

Completely concealed, he went immobile, thanks to the filth covering his bones, the rotten blood he regularly expelled was prevented from staining the water in any visible way.

The water of the lake was incredibly opaque to begin with, no matter whether it was inside or outside, seeing anything through it was a tall order.

Despite not being able to see, he still had advantages over the living when submerged.

Which were that his other senses weren’t impaired in the least, he could hear clearly what was going on outside and inside the water.

Unlike the majority of undeads, he also had access to the five, most basic senses.

He could smell, taste, touch as well, if not better than a living made of flesh and nerves.

He remained unmoving throughout multiple cycles of day and night, dozens of days went by without the undead growing bored or impatient, for he was incapable and unable of such things.

He listened to the goblins’s conversations as they went to gather water, sometimes to simply discuss, to go for a swim or other sorts of extracurricular activities.

Loimos didn’t act, even though he had multiple occasions to, he extended his senses to their maximum and remained perfectly hidden, stalking the goblins, animals and other monsters that sometimes came by.

He learned their names, how they behaved, what was the latest topic of discussions in their tribes.

There were a few names that were more recurrent than others however, Stolgob, Irgob, Pokzgob and Gobstroz.

Respectively: The best hunter, the prettiest of the tribe, the designated wise one and the chieftain.

Their subject of conversations were rather limited, but perhaps it was that Loimos only got to hear of their small talk, they could simply be having the most important talks within the confines of the tribe.

He developed his understanding of each of the goblins, his stealth and senses all at once amongst other things.

After weeks had passed, if not months.

Loimos moved again, he had learned enough and since it seemed that those ’skill’ things were getting much slower to progress after a while, he decided to start working on culling the living.

He had moved because an easy prey had shown itself, the goblin was alone.

This one was frailer than the rest, aged and without anything notable about him.

His name would no longer matter, he stuck his hand into the water right above Loimos.

He didn’t act in that instant, he knew his routine, the old goblin would check the water temperature, a useless act considering that it never truly changed significantly.

After confirming that it was acceptably warm, he would sit down and let his feet sink into the water.

A minute or so would pass, and he would begin to throw small rocks and pebbles at the lake, watching the wildlife that would sometimes emerge.

Unlike Stolgob, he was weak.

The instant Loimos deemed the goblin was immersed in his activity enough, he rose from the soil and shut his jaw on his feeble ankle.

Not hard enough to damage it too severely, only enough force to sink his fangs down to the bone.

Before the green monster could realise that he had been attacked, Loimos dragged him into the lake, forcing him away from the shore and deeper.

He exhausted himself quickly, his struggle grew lethargic as water filled his lungs, he had missed his occasion to shout for help.

The undead went away with his new prize, pulling the dead body along toward the room with his fellows.