Bingk the Goblin After Being Drafted

Red sky with a red sun and the dust of battle slowly settling over the fields of dead and dying. I leaned against my broken lance. I had no idea where or even a recollection of when I had been dismounted. I held a rolled up ball of cloth, from our banner, I think, against my upper thigh to keep the blood from pouring out. Still, the banner was soaked through. I couldn't tell if it was mine or others. I was bleeding behind my breastplate, something had punched a neat hole in it just above my collarbone. I could not raise the left arm at all, not that I wanted to, that was the arm wrapped around the lance and pressuring my leg/hip wound. In my other hand a large serrated blade arched out from my hand and speared the ground. It was lighter by far than the lance or sword I had started with, though it was longer by half again more than my original sword. It was also a mystery, I had taken it up after losing my own sword, broken on some large stone creature that was not natural to either of our peoples.
As the sun boiled away at the dust clouds on the horizon a group of hooded figures came from out of the darkness in the East and gracefully strode across the battle field. I could see that they were skeletal, but still had the movement of dancers and the cloaks swayed at the hips in an alluring fashion, arousing at least my interest, even in my current state. As they glided in near silence through the slaughter green motes sprang from the dead and some of the dying. The motes, square and the size and shape of the middle digit of a thumb, the color of a cat's eye reflecting the light of an open window in darkened room, drifted each to a hooded figure, and rode thereafter from the field on their shoulders, a ghostly running light. I ached to go with them myself, but the formation never broke stride and never varied from it's squared march through the plain and into the west. One figure did turn to me, but clearly I heard an invitation and a realization that it was not really my time. The figure's gaze moved by my, not withdrawing the invitation, but not collecting me either. A form a few feet away shuddered and a mote sprang from the back of its neck. Dizzy it rose into the dusty air and spiraled to the skeletal woman at the edge of her formation. They passed by and faded before reaching the edge of the field.
I rose unsteadily to my feet. The shoulder wound was beginning to ache, a dull throbbing. The leg and hip were numb, that was likely a blessing. I hobbled of the field of battle to the west following the path of the hooded formation until I came to a coastal village. The people initially came running out to help me, until they saw the strange sword I was carrying. Then they were not sure who I really was. I called out for a barber. That I spoke their language fluently seemed to break the ice. It was not my language, it seemed to come from the sword I held. I had no sheath for it, as it was far from what I had started the day with.
An old woman came out to help me, her daughter lending a hand when I stumbled outside their shop. The daughter, I noticed was not broad and knobby like the rest of the town's folk, her face was smooth and only slightly wider than a human face. I guessed that she was a half breed. She unlashed my armor and wrestled the metal clasps open to pull off the breastplate. The shrank back and swore and oath I didn't catch at the sight of my ruined shoulder. With the weight off, the blood began to flow and the pounding pain was soon joined by sharp grinding pain every time I moved. The mother came into the room with a bowl of boiling water held in her bare hands. There was a long forcep and a couple of silvery probes in the water.
"No silver." I said.
The daughter pointed to her own pointed ears then back at me.
"Yes."
Her mother seemed to hesitate, then took them and set them aside. She put the bowl down and pulled off my helmet. I could see myself in the mirror of the shop. I was a rather large fellow, the green skin of my face smoother and tighter than a normal Goblin. My snout was narrower as well. My ears were also furry and pointed. I too had lycanthrope blood coursing through my veins. I supposed that is the only reason I was still alive.
If I'd been furrier, and a few feet taller I might have been able to pass myself off as a Gnoll. But no, I was still just a goblin, though stronger than most because of my prewar profession.
"Bingk Glowerbug," I introduced myself. Glowerbug could be either a bioluminescent grub or a firefly. Neither one was a very powerful family name for a Goblin, but it was mine and I stubbornly held on to it. The Orcs chuckled at me. I laughed a bit then stopped when the shoulder pain made me swoon. The mother snapped up the forceps and lunged into my shoulder while the daughter held me down in the chair. I liked that part. The burning in my shoulder was soon gone, and the boiling water was cleansing the wound. I could feel the healing already start. The mother reached in a snapped a few rubbery things back into place. At least I hoped they were snapping back into place, this was my hammer arm. Mom rushed the daughter out for more boiling water, then pulled the wreckage of my leggings off my body.
"Did we win?"
"No one won." I honestly believed that. Both my Goblin "army" and the Fey who'd been raiding us were decimated. "But I don't think you'll have to worry about raiders for awhile, so maybe you won this time."
"Ung!" she grunted at me, but I could no longer understand her as I had finally lost my grip on the sword.
The following evening I was looking out over the ocean, I had finished repairing some of the barber tools and the rotating chair rotated again. The daughter was watching with me. I could see that my being a goblin, even though big for my race, was causing her some confusion as she was struggling to explain that she found me attractive but for no apparent reason. I knew exactly the reason, and although Goblin lycanthropes didn't change with the moon, I had no idea if Orc lycanthropes did or not.
The moon rose full in the east. She didn't change either. At least, neither of us changed on the outside, but she was right, there was a definite attraction there. We looked at one another then like a switch being thrown the feelings went away. Mom had arrived. The light from the moon almost made her attractive. The daughter loped back to the shop, perhaps there was some sort of lunar change after all.
The moonlight shot across the bay, illuminating an island in the mist. I forgot everything but the invitation I had been offered earlier. I felt the pull I could hear noises, chanting or singing. I stood looking out at the island. Mom looked out across the water, I could tell she knew the island was there, but couldn't see it. She asked if I could.
"Yes, and I hear them singing."
"You were invited?"
"And passed over."
"Oh, I think they may have made a bigger mistake than they know."
She went back into the shop. I walked down the short street across the main road and out onto the ramshackle dock. Orcs really didn't seem to be able to build anything with any sort of style I noticed. I was amazed that half of what they put together stayed together. No wonder they were always buying and trading stuff from us Goblins and raiding from others.
Mom was soon back with a wool sweater, very lumpy, but serviceable. She handed me a leather satchel with a couple of meals worth of food in it. The shoved me into her boat. "You know how to sail, don't you?"
"Um, no." Hell, I thought I was about to die from the rocking and shaking the boat was doing.
She could apparently see my discomfort, muttering something about cowardly goblins, she pointed out the rigging, "That one pulls it up, and the other puts it down. This was built by elves, so don't worry about it."
"How do I steer it?"
"Don't worry about it, I doubt that you'll be able to sail anywhere else tonight."
Sure enough she kicked the ropes free and the little sail filled and I shot across the bay directly for the Island.
She shouted something about "ground!" as I sped away, but already the wind and waves made it impossible to hear.
Elfin made. I settled lower into the boat, it suddenly seemed to move smoother. It was not long, just long enough to make me feel a bit queasy, when I arrived at the island. The wind died to nothing. I dropped the boom on myself. I didn't want to get out in the water, but soon saw no other way. The water was only a couple of feet deep. I started ashore, then turned back to grab the tie line of the boat to tow it ashore. Good thing I did. A swell flowed around me and I found myself off of my feet holding on to the rope to keep from drowning. Between swells I managed to pull the little sailboat ashore, then up the beach, past any sign of water. Now that I was here, I wanted to make sure I had a way back.
I was starting to think this was a bad idea when I came to a clearing in the middle of the dead tree forest. There was a huge pile of flesh in the middle with the glowing soul motes hovering around it. The hooded ones were in a circle around the pile of flesh. They were chanting their invitation. I had the feeling it was not for me or the souls they'd collected, and somehow, I knew there would be nothing good to follow if the summoning ritual was completed. The first mote of light leapt into the pile, and a strong Goblin warrior jumped out with a resounding shout. One of the hooded ones stepped forward, grabbed his hand and reached with the other to the blue orb glowing at the top of the now slightly diminished pile of used flesh. The flesh flowed onto the figure and the robes dropped revealing a very shapely goblin maid. The warrior whooped again and the two of them made their way into the forest. Soon the other motes and hooded ones were joining and gathering together away from the diminishing pile of flesh. As the pile neared the size of a few persons, two motes dove in at once. They emerged embraced and ran into the woods together. Fey bodies, to slender to tell if they were male or female or one of each. I knew that the pile of flesh would not be entirely consumed in the ritual, but could not figure out if that was a good or a bad thing.
The lunar part of me sensed something large arriving in the light streaming from the moon into the clearing. It was as dark a mote as the Goblin and Fey souls were light. I suddenly knew what was supposed to happen. The souls and flesh were supposed to unite to create the living avatar of the Necromantic deity. But there was now one less soul to help the hooded figures become flesh for the year. The sadness was overwhelming. I could feel the sense of loss, the despair. I stepped into the clearing and took the last robed figure by the very skeletal hand. Almost balked at that point.
"I get to go home after this, right?"
I had ascent from both the formless one and the hooded ones clenching my hand with an unnatural strength. I swung them around so they were touching the blue orb rather than me. I wanted to keep my current flesh. The flesh crawled up their fingers and down their arms into their robes. Again, I almost lost my nerve. But one held me firm. The flesh reached her bony hand and she let go. Robes dropped to reveal a vision of a Goblin-weres almost abundant where I liked and smiling curved sharp teeth that sent a ripple of delight through my being. I pulled out my satchel of dinner and offered each a leg of mutton. They greedily consumed my dinners as we made our way through the forest to the beach. Spotting my boat One poked me hard in the shoulder where I'd been shot.
"It's you!" we both said at once.
"You filled out nicely." I grinned
"For a year and a day. We're all yours, but the flesh must be returned here, or replaced."
I didn't even want to think of what that might entail, so offered to let them finish off the dinner, hoping the food would make them truly abundant where I liked. The blonde (unusual for a goblin girl) haired one finished the meal and then said "wait here."
I didn't, of course. I followed them back through the forest, she and the red haired goblin girl gathered up the two elves and dragged them back to the clearing where they had rounded up all the now flushed but fleshed souls into the center of the clearing. The souls began to glow green at the back of the necks a few of them cried out in surprise.
"Go to your final rewards in peace with my thanks." echoed through the two dozen newly fleshy throats of the hooded ones.
There were sighs and screams from the souls, I supposed depending on final dispositions, as their flesh was pulled into the blue orb and spat up into the moonlit night. A form was taking shape in the mist, serpentine, with many legs, and three pairs of dragon wings. Soon it was fully fleshed, if a little thin.
"I hunger," it moaned on the wind. The wings spread and beat once, the serpent bounced, a second beat and the clearing swirled with debris, hooded ones clutched at their robes to keep them from flying into the forest. The wings rippled again and the serpent launched into the air striking out to the open ocean in the west. I stood awed by the power that must have flowed through this spot. The hooded ones began to chatter amongst themselves as though it was a reunion. My two friends excitedly chatting with a large attentive group. While most were donning their robes there were still enough lovely goblin women to make me very anxious. The robes were much more shapely now. I couldn't help myself from stepping into the clearing.
"Can I bring you something?" I asked.
"And he's polite, too" said one of them.
"I may just stay a goblin a while longer," smirked another.
Suddenly I wasn't so sure I had the stamina for what I appeared to have gotten myself into.