A flowing darkness surrounds all. A pure darkness unlike any other, impenetrable by anything that is or could be. There was no light, no sound, no motion. There was only that transcendent black, endlessly expanding in all directions. And yet...rather than disturbing, this eerie ocean of black was calming. Like the feeling a child has when closing its eyes to sleep, like the fading world at the end of a play. The darkness is embraced with open arms and hearts, taken in like air and water as the warmth it brings is recognized.

Light pierces the dark. A lance stabbed upwards from the Kingdom Below, the light pervades this space of tranquil knowledge. The darkness is burned away, twisted and perverted by the all-consuming light. Fear strikes, as just moments after embracing the blackness, it is forcibly torn away. The warmth is replaced by a burning pain. Born from the interplay of shadow and light, figures take form, but they cannot possibly be acknowledged. No, the only site of importance is this light, this damnable light that takes away everything.

The light cools. The scars left from its searing pain throb in the recesses of existence as their cause recedes. The light returns, but this time it does not crush the darkness; this time it merely illuminates what was present. Eyes cracking open for the first time. Formless figures who steadily take shape as the light is adjusted to, beings that aren't recognized but still feel familiar.

A single word takes form in the mind, not spoken in a language but in something more primal, something that appeals to the deepest part of existence as information in a language that was never learned streams into the soul.

[i]"Goblin."[/i]

And before the crowd of these now-awakening bodies stood a lone figure, back turned to them as she called out to those nearby.

Come now, we've wasted enough time already. No sense in wasting any more.

[center][b]Wake up.[/b][/center]
[hr]

Now, it is worth noting the current situation for the Goblin tribe of the Ironwood Forest. 

After being birthed, the youngest group of Goblins had remained asleep for three full days, a sleep that none of the elder Goblins could rouse them from despite their best efforts, and now several of them seemed to have begun stirring within mere seconds of each other. Accordingly, they were waking up for the first time in bodies that were just a hair's breadth away from being fully grown.

This rate of growth is only natural. When compared to the civilization built by humans, who grew up without worry of being attacked by a foreign enemy, goblins, since the moment of their birth, must deal with the fierce struggle for survival. Humans could afford to grow more slowly than the Goblins living in the wilds, where the law of the jungle requires their offspring grow faster. Of course, one of the elders had been sure to help feed them while they were in the depths of sleep so that they wouldn't starve, though it had been difficult to do so without causing them to choke to death. In truth, there had actually been more children present, but some had choked to death while the elders tried to feed them, and their corpses had been carried out two days prior. Necessary experience, and whatnot. 

The other children from this group of newborns were still asleep, slumbering peacefully in the further recesses of the cavern, as if they were comatose. The elder who had seen some of them awakening had carried the waking ones out of those recesses mere minutes earlier, when she noticed them starting to stir. Hopefully the others would also wake up soon, but only time would tell.

As the newborns gained some bearing of their surroundings, they would notice that they were in the middle of a cave, a natural cave with a few traces of sunlight from the midday world outside filtering in.

[color=c4df9b]"Chief, chief, some of them are waking up!"[/color]