Lumpy, Son of Grak  Lumpy earned his name the moment he was born. His small goblin body was round and uneven, with soft bulges along his arms and back, like he had grown too fast in all the wrong places. Unlike his father, Lumpy’s mutations were less frightening—but no less unusual.  His skin was a pale, almost bluish green, and his large ears drooped instead of standing tall. His eyes were wide, glossy, and filled with curiosity rather than malice. Where other goblin young hissed and bit, Lumpy waddled and watched.  Grak didn’t understand him.  Lumpy didn’t hunt well. Didn’t snarl properly. Once, he even tried to befriend a cave rat instead of eating it.  But he laughed—a strange, bubbling giggle that echoed through the caverns. And though Grak would never admit it aloud, that sound softened something deep within his jagged chest.
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Lumpy, Son of Grak Lumpy earned his name the moment he was born. His small goblin body was round and uneven, with soft bulges along his arms and back, like he had grown too fast in all the wrong places. Unlike his father, Lumpy’s mutations were less frightening—but no less unusual. His skin was a pale, almost bluish green, and his large ears drooped instead of standing tall. His eyes were wide, glossy, and filled with curiosity rather than malice. Where other goblin young hissed and bit, Lumpy waddled and watched. Grak didn’t understand him. Lumpy didn’t hunt well. Didn’t snarl properly. Once, he even tried to befriend a cave rat instead of eating it. But he laughed—a strange, bubbling giggle that echoed through the caverns. And though Grak would never admit it aloud, that sound softened something deep within his jagged chest.

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