But not everyone shared in the excitement. The moment the goblins from my old clan mingled with the new arrivals, tension began to ripple through the camp. Glares were exchanged, growls slipped out under hushed breaths, and a few hands lingered a little too close to their weapons.
It was expected. Perfectly natural.
Strangers had appeared out of nowhere—goblins they didn't know, about to claim their home. Of course, they'd be uneasy. Of course, there'd be hostility.
Change never came easy.
Narg approached me quietly, his staff tapping softly against the ground as he leaned in. "Those two there," he said under his breath, nodding toward Gork and Nira, who were standing apart from the others, "who are they? Their auras… they feel strong."
"Oh, them?" I said, keeping my tone casual. "They're Chosen. Blessed by Drugar, like me."
Narg froze mid-step, the blood draining from his face.
