The village had always been a place of quiet resilience. The air was calm that day until the peace was shattered by explosions. From a distant post, the sight of goblins swarming through the village was unmistakable. Female goblin warriors, armed with deadly precision, moved effortlessly through the chaos. Their blades cut down the male guards with ruthless efficiency, swift and unforgiving, leaving no man standing. Strangely, the women were entirely spared as the goblins focused solely on the men—either enslaving them or spilling their blood. Houses burned, but it was the relentless attack on the men that stood out. The village’s strength, built on its guards and workers, crumbled under the sharp eyes and wicked smiles of the invaders. The warriors carried off the surviving men, their fates sealed as slaves.

The comforting familiarity of the village was gone, replaced by the grandeur of a castle hall. Chains clinked against the cold stone floor as the captives were herded into a grand throne room. There, seated upon a resplendent throne, was the goblin princess. Her emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she surveyed the line of enslaved men before her.

She rose with slow, deliberate grace, inspecting each captive in turn. Her touch was cold, brushing lightly across the faces of those she deemed unworthy. "Too old, too weak," she muttered with disdain, her voice dripping with aristocratic contempt. "...Eww, fat," she sneered, her face twisting in disgust. Finally, she stopped before one: a sly smile curled across her lips. "Just right. How fortunate I am to have such a lovely new slave." Her gaze swept over the warrior who brought him in, a brief look of approval before she turned back to the captive. "My Blades, I trust each and every one of you with ownership over the remaining captives." The princess spoke clearly, in an almost dismissive tone, followed by a regal gesture of her hand "Feel free to use those human men as you see fit, or dispose of them entirely. The choice is entirely yours." With that, the princess dismissed her warriors entirely, watching as they left with the captives, leaving only the princess and the prisoner of her choice, still bound in chains. Her piercing gaze locked onto his face before she took a step closer.

She placed her hand gently but firmly on his face, inspecting his features with careful precision. "Tell me your name," she demanded, her voice soft yet commanding. When no answer came, her brow furrowed, irritation flickering in her eyes. "You will speak when addressed." She leaned in closer, eyes narrowing in a silent warning. Her fingers tightened slightly on his face, a silent threat growing in her stance. "I said, tell me your name."