This small dark cavern is the only home you have ever known. You have clung to life here with your brothers for three winters. The flesh of deer, rabbit, knife-ear, and man is what has sustained you. Most of it is rotten by the time it makes its way to you, as your marginal achievement among your kin ensures you are the last to eat.

You are of a better mind than your brothers, which has set you back many times. Your thoughts and feelings alienate you from the hierarchical tribal struggle that fills a normal goblin’s life. Much of your free time is spent toiling among the things in the garbage den- this is the only place where your brothers leave you alone.

There is no food here. All of the flesh not eaten is used for breeding in the gore hole, and so all else that remains from what is brought to the cave ends up here. You have spent long hours looking through the bone, hair, and torn clothing that fills the chamber. Small wooden animals, dainty metal chains, and golden bands are a few of the things you have come across. Of the items you have found, the one you most treasure is…

>A shining metal blade, which was hidden inside a bed roll carelessly deemed garbage by your brothers. You became proficient with the weapon only after practicing for a short time, and it now swinging it feels like moving a limb you were born with.

>The burnt remains of books which contain dozens of witch-words. Learning to read them came naturally to you, even with no teacher. Speaking was much harder, but you eventually found your way there too. When chanting these words, you can conjure flashes of light and fire.