The Goblin Raider Queen

The luminous sap from the cracked throne smears across Rozah the Goblin’s skin, and for one breath it looks almost gentle. Then the glow turns sickly violet, deepening under her flesh like ink in water.

The sap does not heal. It bites deeper, threading into Rozah’s arm, her neck, her chest, as if the forest is finding every path inside her.

Kraz recoils in horror. The Hooded Rider takes a step back, staring at the pulse racing under Rozah’s skin.

The thorn-crowned beasts freeze at the edge of the path. Around Rozah, the violet roots begin to throb in perfect time with her heartbeat, once, twice, then all at once.

Rozah stands at the center of the pulse, the throne splintering beneath her as the corruption settles in, no longer touching her, but answering her.

Rozah stills her breath, then lets it fall into a hard, even beat. The violet pulse stops racing and starts listening.

The sap on her skin shivers, then drains back through her arm in a slow, visible tide, thinning from glowing thread to scattered residue.

The roots in the clearing answer at once, not with hunger, but with recoil. Teeth along their tips bare, then fold shut.

The last violet glow slips out of Rozah’s throat and chest, leaving her skin marked with faint, fading veins. The thorn-crowned beasts hold still, uncertain.

By the time the pulse settles, the sap is gone from her body, pooled only as luminous residue at the throne’s base, while the roots wait, silent, for her next command.