FINAL CORE : [A holy dungeon-core litRPG]

Goblins are curious folk.

While they are technically monsters, by the standards of our world, they are, as far as monsters go, relatively intelligent.

Yes, there are plenty of monsters that show significant levels of intelligence, such as dragons or powerful undead. However, goblins are an extremely low tier of creature, coming in only at a tepid ‘F’ ranking for the broad mass of their species. Given this, their intelligence is quite remarkable.

Goblins construct intricate societies with social hierarchies. They construct dwellings and homes and practice craftsmanship, hunting, and spellweaving.

Their greatest flaw, which stops them from progressing forward as a whole, is their short life-spans. Goblins live for about ten years at most, making their lives short and frantic and, given that their dens are often deep in the old forests, very violent.

Goblin society has overcome this flaw by engaging in symbiosis with the much higher ranking and longer living dryads, another forest monster of a rarer breed. The goblins give their all to protect the forest from outside incursions, stopping logging attempts and the construction of roads. In turn, the dryads will stay within the goblin tribe, taking on the title of ‘wood-mother’. She serves as a form of generational memory, staying with a tribe for many, many of their lifespans. The wood-mothers act as a guiding force, teaching the new goblins the lessons of their short-lived forbearers.

 

~ Of the natural world, Goblins

 

 

~ [Isaiah] ~

 

Isaiah sits, perched on an overturned log that is nested high up on a stack of such things, having been cleared out of the way by the goblins, and lifts its head.

 

It’s an interesting location. The original goblin territory has, along with most everything else, been torn up to the island. Their land, thankfully, has sundered mostly gracefully from the core-world, rising up to meet the rest. They have now settled instead down in the shadow below the island, which has begun to regrow near a great lake that is filling in down under it.

 

The landscape is quick to heal. The natural grasses and brambles of this region have already begun regrowing, filling the space up and digging through the elevated soil, clumping it together with tightly bound roots.

 

It sits and watches the festivities below, as the goblins take turns dancing with the dryad in what it assumes to be a ritual of sorts. They spin around a tree, chasing after each other and after a few laps, the goblin being ‘chased’ runs away and another one takes its place ‘escaping’ from the dryad as they play what looks like a fake, collective game of one on one tag.

 

It tilts its head.

 

Cute.

 

Isaiah looks to the side, meeting Red’s gaze.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” remarks Red. Isaiah tilts its head the other way. “No. Forget it,” says Red, pointing at Isaiah. “You got one hug, once. That’s it. We’re good.”

 

Isaiah looks back at the festivities. “I believe it would be fun, Red.”

 

“I bet you do, you kook,” replies Red.

 

Red is yanked to the side, a pair of hands clambering over her, as if climbing over the uthra. “I’d play!” says Orange excitedly, lifting a hand and waving it. “It sounds fun!”

 

Red rolls her eyes. “Why are you touching me?” she asks, looking at Orange.

 

The two of them stare at each other for a time.

 

Orange blinks. “Can we be fr-”

 

“- NO!” snaps Red. Orange fearfully shoots off, hiding behind Isaiah.

 

“Red, be kind,” remarks Isaiah, looking back at the ceremony. It lifts a hand, rubbing Orange’s head as she looks out from behind it. “Today is a good day.”

 

Red sighs. “You say that about every day.”

 

Isaiah nods. “Have I been wrong yet?”

 

“Uh, yes, actually,” replies Red. “A few times, if you’re going to ask.”

 

“Correct.” Isaiah looks at Red and taps its head. “So do consider that you may be wrong now and then too, Red,” says Isaiah as Orange lifts her head against its palm and then, without another word, simply flies off into the forest.

 

“Please,” says Red. She nods her head to the goblins. “I think we should carry these rat-creatures up to the top just so we can throw them back right off of the island.” She narrows her eyes. “They’re just little green humans.”

 

“Sunset spirit!” calls a voice from down below. A goblin stands there, holding a flower. “I, Grob, thank you for freeing me from captivity!” says the goblin, throwing the flower up to Red. It hits her in the face and falls down into her lap.

 

She turns her head. Red and Isaiah stare at each other. “SHUT UP!” snaps Red, before Isaiah can say anything. But its smug expression says enough.

 

— Orange flies back in. “Red! Red!” she says excitedly, holding out a flower. “I found you a flower in the forest!” exclaims Orange. “Can we be… oh…” She looks down at the flower that’s already on Red’s lap. “…A flower…” Her gaze drops, her posture showing her defeat. “Nevermind,” says the uthra, looking away.

 

Red groans and snatches the flower out of her hand. “You shut up too. Give me that!” snaps the uthra, yanking it from Orange’s hand. “You people. I swear.”

 

Orange stares in confusion for a moment and then her face lights up as she stares at Red, clenching her fists in excitement.

 

“No,” replies Red, dryly. “Go away.”

 

Orange sits down next to Red.

 

Red stares at her.

 

Orange maintains eye-contact and scoots in closer to her.

 

“What are you doing…?”

 

“Sitting,” replies Orange, kicking her legs.

 

Isaiah watches them and then looks back down at the goblins, who have finished their song and dance, apparently.

 

“Great tree spirit!” calls Grob. Seide, the dryad, stands at his side and all of the goblins form up. Isaiah assumes they’re speaking to the dryad, but it can’t help but notice that they’re looking at it and not her. “Praise!”

 

“Praise!” say an odd hundred goblin voices from around the forest as the tribe all lift their hands and begin to chant. “Isaiah! Isaiah!”

 

“Oh, great,” groans Red, watching the goblin tribe chant Isaiah’s name. Orange scoots in closer, smushing herself against Red and beaming brightly, despite Red’s efforts to push her away.

 

“Isaiah! Isaiah!” chant the goblins, as they throw flowers and herbs into the air.

 

~ [New Worshipers] ~
Damp-Bramble Goblin Tribe

Effect: Goblins all around the world are now able to hear the call of Isaiah.

Effect: Goblin-Homunculi will now be able to be spawned outside of the tower, within the dungeon territory.

 

 

~ [Kalifii] ~
Human, Female, Fighter Advanced Class - Fencer Location: The Town, outside of the tower

 

Kalifii wanders around the tower grounds. She and her team have set-up shop here. They’re making a good living and are planning to stay for a while longer. Sure, they could go back to the city and grind the dungeon there. But, honestly, why bother?

 

Sure, the central-city has more amenities given the difference in population size. But the number of amenities available to adventurers is limited to begin with, given the fact that they’re poor as shit. At least here, they get free hot baths and plentiful loot. She and her party have started building a more permanent location to hole up in. Tents are fine and good, but if they’ll be staying here a while, four walls are much better.

 

Besides, land here is free.

 

There have been some debates now and then about a particular piece of territory, but the tower’s attendants will intervene before anything gets too out of hand, and the dungeon will decide disputes now and then, ‘bestowing’ territory in exact segments.

 

She hums, walking and carrying a small sack of nails in her hand that she bought from a merchant.

 

The fencer looks over her shoulder, staring at the bustling little community that is starting to form. She can only imagine that this is how it all happened, back in the day, when the world’s core cities were all getting started. A dungeon and the people who moved in around it. There’s water. There’s food. What more does anyone need?

 

— Besides maybe a little cooling off.

 

The sweaty adventurer rolls up her sleeves and keeps going back to her group.

 

Summer is really starting to kick in now and the heat is becoming noticeable, as the temperate early-summer warmth begins to fade for the blast of heat to come near the final peak of it.

 

So far, summer has been peaceful, for the most part. She wonders what autumn will be like?

 

 

~ [Crusader Legionnaire Nostrae] ~
Human, Female, (Priest + Warlock Advanced-Class) - Inquisitor Location: Below the island to the west

 

Nostrae, her hands covered in bandages, sits down at the bottom of the ladder.

 

It’s been a few days since she got chased off of the island by that dog thing. But she hasn’t given up yet. The woman flips through her book for the dozenth time, trying to find a spell that will let her sneak past the island’s defenses.

 

The assault will start soon. The crusade will arrive in the south and march on Cardinal Schweig’s orders, and it will be her job to make sure the gate is open when they get here and she fully intends to be successful at it.

 

— She flips a page, her eyes looking up scornfully at the behemoth landmass that she sits beneath.

 

 

Razmatazz

By the way, you should read DEMON CORE if you haven't. It's very good =)