Ali remained crouched behind the holly bush long after the goblin's chittering shrieks had faded downstream. The sharp smell of blood and that unwashed, musky stench lingered in the air. His heart was a trapped bird slamming against his ribs. The goblin had run. It had looked right at him—or at least in his direction—and fled.
Confusion cut through the fear.
"System," he whispered, the word scraping out of his dry throat. "Why did it run? I mean… I know goblins. From games, stories. They're cowards, sure, but they're also vicious little bastards. They ambush. They swarm. They're…" He didn't want to say the rest out loud. The tropes were too ugly. "They're not supposed to just run from a single human hiding in a bush. Especially not one who looks like me." He glanced down at his own thin frame, his sock-covered feet in their unraveling bark wraps.
He took a shaky breath. "And why was it alone? Everything I 'know' says they're pack creatures. So where's the pack?"
The blue text materialized, its logic a cold anchor in the whirl of his panic.
[Query Acknowledged: Anomalous Goblin Behavior Analysis.]
Data Source: User's cultural database (fantasy tropes, game bestiaries), cross-referenced with observed reality.
Hypothesis 1 – The Cowardice Factor: Tropes often contain a seed of truth. Flight is a primary survival instinct for all creatures. The goblin was engaged in a vulnerable activity (butchering), alone, and detected an unknown presence. Its immediate assessment likely ranked potential threat higher than potential reward. It chose the optimal survival strategy: retreat to regroup or warn others.
Hypothesis 2 – The Novelty Factor: You are an unknown variable. Your scent, your appearance (synthetic black clothing, no visible armor or weapon, strange footwear) does not match local human profiles. You may smell of another world, of chemicals and processed foods. To a goblin, you might not register as 'human prey' but as 'unknown potential predator.' Caution dictated flight.
Hypothesis 3 – The 'Nuts & Rapists' Trope Deconstruction: User's referenced tropes describe a specific, socialized behavior pattern common in established goblin societies under stable conditions—where numbers, hierarchy, and dehumanization of outsiders enable extreme cruelty. This individual was alone. It lacked the pack's security, the mob mentality that fuels brazen aggression. Alone, it is a scavenger, not a raider. Its primary drive is personal survival, not tribal violence.
On Solitude:
Possibility A – Scout/Forager: It may be a lone forager from a distant tribe, operating at the edge of its range.
Possibility B – Exile: Cast out from its tribe for weakness, injury, or transgression.
Possibility C – Survivor: Its pack may be dead, scattered, or elsewhere. This location may be a contested border or a recently cleared hunting ground, explaining the lack of others.
Possibility D – Bait: Least likely but not impossible. Its panic could be performative, luring you into an ambush. Current environmental analysis suggests no other signatures, but deception is possible.
Conclusion: The goblin ran because you, in this specific context, posed an incalculable risk. You were an anomaly during its moment of vulnerability. Its solitude is a significant data point suggesting instability in the local goblin population or this individual's status within it.
Implication: This does not mean goblins are harmless. It means this encounter defies simplistic tropes. A group, or even a pair, would behave very differently. The next one you meet may not be alone, or scared.
Ali processed the System's breakdown. It made a terrible kind of sense. The goblin hadn't seen a weak human. It had seen a black, silent, weird-smelling shape watching it from the shadows. Of course it ran. He'd have run too.
"So, I scared it," he muttered, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his chest. "I'm the monster in the bush."
[Accurate metaphor.] Your presence currently functions as an environmental hazard of unknown properties. This is a temporary advantage.
"Temporary. Right." He looked downstream. "Because it's running back to wherever it came from. And it's going to tell them—or show them—what it saw. Or smelled."
[Probability: High.] Even a cowardly scout reports anomalies. Your scent trail is now part of its situational data.
The brief, surreal feeling of power evaporated. He had been identified. Not as Ali, but as Something. And that Something was now a point of interest on a goblin's mental map.
"We can't stay here," he said, forcing himself to stand. His muscles screamed in protest. The [Hiking (Level 2, Tier 0 / Rank F- | Lesser)] skill adjusted his stance automatically, compensating for his fatigue. "And we can't just blindly follow the river anymore. It knows we're here, and that's the way it went."
He looked at the grisly remains of the rodent. The goblin's flint axe had done efficient work. A tool. Intelligence. However basic, it meant the creature could plan, could communicate.
"What are my options? I need to get to civilization, but I can't walk down the monster highway."
[Scenario Re-evaluation.]
Option 1 – Pursue River Path: High speed, known direction. Now includes risk of goblin lookout, ambush, or tracking party. Not recommended.
Option 2 – Inland Detour: Return to original north-northeast bearing, abandoning the river guide. Higher wilderness survival risk, lower immediate encounter risk. Chance of missing settlements entirely.
Option 3 – Hybrid Approach: Move inland but parallel to the river at a greater distance (200-300 meters). Slower, more arduous, but maintains general direction while avoiding the primary game trail. Best balance of progress and stealth.
Recommendation: Option 3. Use terrain for cover, move quietly. Prioritize distance from the riverbank for the next several hours of travel.
Ali nodded. It was the only play. "Okay. Inland it is. A wide berth."
He took one last look at the bloody patch of ground—his first real landmark in this world, a lesson written in gore and panic. Then he turned his back on the river and pushed once more into the deep, watchful woods.
This time, he wasn't just fleeing the unknown. He was fleeing the consequences of being seen by it. The System was right. He was an environmental hazard.
But in this environment, even hazards got hunted.