The predator aspect wasn’t a clean eater, tearing off large chunks of worm’s meat and gulping them down, scattering bits of flesh and juices all over the floor. He took a special taste for smaller worms that he could swallow whole.
Then comes the medicine. The same female goblin that led the charge now took the lead applying foul smelling tinctures and unguents to the wounded warriors. Goblin physiology seemed to be incredibly robust, with even some of the more wounded able to walk around and eat their own weight in worm meat with just some help from the herbalist.
“I’m Lickwounds,” their herbalist said while pulling a couple of flasks from her pouch. “Healer, midwife, and occasional alchemist. This will be unpleasant, but we need to clean those wounds, those nasty hunters love to coat their blades with all kinds of nasty stuff.”
She took out a red, oily potion out of her satchel and uncorked it with her teeth before pouring some over the wounds on your paws. The liquid touched you with a burning, stinging sensation that made you grunt angrily.
“Calm, calm,” she whispered with a voice used to calm the wounded. “If it’s burning it’s because you are healing.”
You grunted discontent, but doing your best to keep quiet. She climbed all over you with surprising ease to spread the medicine over your many wounds and pulled out pieces of metal and broken scales.
“It lets them regrow proper,” she explained while pulling out a piece of scale embedded with a metal hook. “If I don’t, they become twisted! You get callus and then it hurts to move!”
Nearing three foot eleven she was tall for her species and spoke with the confidence of old age. She was followed by a gargle of younger goblins that watched her with great respect and served as helpers and nurses.
Written by Ashley Natter on 22 April 2021