From frozen tundras to scorching deserts, dense jungles to abandoned ruins, goblinoids can be found almost anywhere life is difficult. They are the most numerous Folk in Arcainia—not because they possess mighty kingdoms or divine favor, but because they endure.

To outsiders, goblins are often dismissed as vermin or raiders. Yet those who underestimate them rarely live long enough to repeat the mistake.

Every goblinoid tribe is different, shaped by its environment, its warlord, and the endless struggle to survive another season.

They speak Giblik, a harsh, clipped language built for commands, insults, and practical communication. While other races preserve history through poetry or scripture, goblinoids preserve it through scars, trophies, and stories told around campfires.

Their names reflect this philosophy entirely, serving as declarations of usefulness rather than identity.

Unlike elves or dwarves, goblinoids were never intended to build perfect civilizations. Their gift is adaptation.

Goblinoids mature quickly, reproduce rapidly, and can establish thriving tribes almost anywhere. A devastated battlefield, forgotten mine, abandoned castle, dense swamp, or volcanic wasteland can all become home within only a few generations.

Because of this, goblins have become the single most widespread humanoid race in Arcainia.

This rapid expansion comes at a cost.

Most goblins live relatively short lives compared to humans, rarely reaching old age outside unusually peaceful tribes. Their societies value immediate survival over long-term planning, causing many outsiders to see them as impulsive or primitive.

Yet beneath that rough exterior lies remarkable ingenuity.

Most goblin tribes revolve around one simple principle: Everyone must be useful.

Status is earned through contribution rather than birth. Hunters provide food. Trappers defend the camp. Craftsmen repair equipment. Warriors protect the tribe.

Those unable—or unwilling—to contribute rarely remain members for long.

Goblins excel at improvisation. A broken spear becomes a fishing tool. A collapsed ruin becomes a fortress. A discarded wagon becomes an entire settlement.

Few races can produce so much from so little.

Goblins

The smallest and most numerous of their kind, goblins are energetic, curious, opportunistic, and endlessly inventive. Their minds excel at solving immediate problems, especially through traps, ambushes, and clever tricks.

Although individually weaker than most humanoids, goblins become terrifying when fighting on terrain they have prepared.

Entire armies have disappeared into forests where goblin engineers spent weeks constructing hidden pitfalls, swinging log traps, collapsing bridges, and poisoned snares.

They rarely seek fair fights. They seek victorious ones.

Hobgoblins

Where goblins think in moments, hobgoblins think in generations.

Larger, stronger, and considerably more intelligent than common goblins, hobgoblins possess an instinctive understanding of organization and command.

Many rise from tribal chiefs into disciplined generals capable of uniting dozens of tribes beneath a single banner.

Their camps quickly evolve into fortresses. Their raiding parties become armies. Their shamans become diplomats, engineers, and military advisors.

Among goblinoids, ambition is most often a hobgoblin trait.

Bugbears

Bugbears represent the physical peak of goblinoid evolution.

Towering over their smaller cousins, they combine immense strength with remarkable patience.

Contrary to popular belief, bugbears are not unintelligent. Most simply lack the desire to command. Many prefer hunting, guarding territory, or serving as elite champions for powerful chiefs rather than leading tribes themselves.

When battle finally arrives, however, few creatures rival a bugbear's terrifying ferocity.

Most tribes divide labor according to both ability and temperament rather than rigid law.

Common roles include:

• Hunters

• Gatherers

• Trappers

• Craftsmen

• Scouts

• Guards

• Lashers (disciplinarians and enforcers)

• Soldiers

• Beast handlers

• Shamans

• Warlords

• Jesters

Female goblins generally display less overt aggression than males, often specializing in gathering, medicine, leatherworking, alchemy, or crafting. During early adulthood, however, they experience a brief seasonal reproductive cycle that can make them unusually bold, competitive, and impulsive in seeking mates. Goblin folklore treats this as a natural stage of life, often accompanied by elaborate courtship rituals, contests of cunning, and celebratory feasts rather than shame or secrecy.

Despite these tendencies, no role is strictly forbidden. Times of hardship often blur traditional divisions, and survival always outweighs convention.

One of the strangest positions within goblin society is the tribe's Jester.

Unlike every other goblin, the jester is expected to mock chiefs, insult warriors, and behave in deliberately absurd ways.

This unusual tradition exists for a practical reason. Many goblins believe that suppressing too much chaos allows malignant spirits of disorder—known as Nilbogs—to possess members of the tribe.

By giving one goblin permission to embody foolishness, mock authority, and vent communal frustrations, the tribe symbolically "feeds" chaos in a harmless form.

Whether this superstition truly prevents Nilbog manifestations remains fiercely debated. Few chiefs are willing to test the alternative.

Goblinoid biology changes more rapidly than that of most humanoids. Within only a handful of generations, isolated tribes begin reflecting their surroundings.

Desert goblins often possess ochre or reddish skin resistant to heat. Arctic tribes develop pale blue or gray complexions with resistance to extreme cold. Jungle goblins display vibrant greens that blend with dense foliage. Volcanic goblins frequently develop charcoal-black skin capable of enduring intense heat. Coastal tribes may even develop muted sea-green tones and remarkable swimming ability.

This remarkable adaptability explains how goblinoids have successfully colonized nearly every corner of Arcainia.

Most civilizations regard goblinoids with suspicion.

Human kingdoms remember centuries of raids. Dwarves despise their incursions into abandoned mines. Elves consider them reckless despoilers of ancient forests.

Orcs, however, often respect goblins' resilience. Many goblin tribes willingly serve beneath powerful orc warlords, exchanging military service for protection and territory.

Others remain fiercely independent, attacking anyone foolish enough to trespass.

Most goblinoids worship strength before gods.

Those who do practice organized religion commonly venerate Grommosh, admiring his conquest and brutality, or Sithus, embracing his teachings of chaos, excess, and glorious madness.

Shamans interpret omens through bones, fungi, smoke, and strange dreams rather than formal scripture.

To many goblins, surviving another day is proof enough that the gods remain satisfied.

Most scholars dismiss the stories as drunken sailors' tales. They may be wrong.

Hidden beneath Sithus Island, beyond labyrinthine caverns known only to goblin pilgrims, whispers speak of a civilization unlike any other in Arcainia.

Known only as The Delirium Covenant, this secretive goblinoid society venerates Sithus not merely as the God of Madness, but as the divine architect of transcendence through chaos.

To its members, insanity is not a curse. It is evolution.

Within vast underground foundries and laboratories, cultists have erased the distinction between arcane ritual and scientific invention. Their workshops hum with delirium-powered engines fueled by unstable mana, while corrupted crystals pulse through impossible machines like veins of living blood.

Among their greatest achievements are:

Delirium-powered arcane machinery capable of warping reality through controlled madness.

Warlock pacts bound into soul gems, allowing eldritch power to be harvested, traded, or embedded within machines.

Necromantic constructs animated by fused flesh, metal, and corrupted spirits.

Alchemical experimentation using tainted mana crystals to produce mutagens, volatile explosives, and unnatural life.

To outsiders, the Covenant appears less like a nation and more like an industrialized nightmare—where laboratories are temples, factories are cathedrals, and every invention is both miracle and sacrilege.

Whether these stories are exaggerated, misunderstood, or horrifyingly true remains one of Arcainia's greatest mysteries.