Lungworth

Hiding behind an apple sapling, Vargas observed the negotiations between the mysterious stranger and the Flesh Priestess of Serberia. Could this be the Goblin King? Outwardly, he showed no signs of this accursed race, but if goblins are capable of changing so drastically during their lives, transforming from small, ugly creatures into huge brutes, and even reproducing by fertilizing females of different species, then what prevents them from evolving to such an extent that they become indistinguishable from humans? Lester observed the doppelganger for a while but noticed no mannerisms typical of goblins, from which, no matter what, one cannot escape through genetics alone. Perhaps this is some kind of admirer – and he certainly doesn't look like a local loser – or another of the contacts from the underworld with whom Gulveig of Baldr has established a devilish cooperation over the long years of her terror over Visteria. Spitting into his palms and gripping Swinecleaver and Widowmaker more comfortably, Nightblade assumed the stance of a wild cat lurking in the undergrowth and pricked up his ears.