The Goblin Wars Part One

by Stuart Thaman

  Placing the creature on the ground, Keturah whispered to it, summoning Taurnil. The demon was somewhat dwarfed by the hulking paladin, standing between the two humans and flexing its healed wings.

  For the first time in his life, Gideon thought he was about to die. The sinewy creature before him assaulted every divine sensibility the paladin had. He could smell the stink of the abyss washing the area in a foul haze.

  “Begone, demon,” Gideon growled under his breath, feeling the holy energy of Vrysinoch filling his body. The symbol on his back flared to life in the presence of such a foul creature.

  “Do not worry, paladin,” Keturah said sharply. “Taurnil lives in the abyss, yes, but he is not a denizen of that place. I created him, I control him.” Taurnil turned his head just slightly to look over his shoulder at the woman, his three tongues moving eerily around his pale lips. “We have reason to believe that the goblins are behind the disappearance of the king,” she continued, moving to the beast’s side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Two of them were spotted on the other side of the river and have escaped.”

  “So I heard,” was Gideon’s gruff response. “I spent the entire day yesterday talking to the village, gathering information. I also heard a rumor that your pet couldn’t even handle two puny goblins, even with support from the militia.” Gideon spat on the ground at Taurnil’s feet, an open challenge. The beast spread his wings wide and hissed in return. Green acid flew from the creature’s tongues and landed on the ground with a sizzle.

  “These goblins aren’t like anything we have ever encountered,” Keturah answered. “One of them is a powerful shaman. Do not underestimate those two. They are heading south along the Clawflow, presumably toward Reikall. Follow them. Taurnil can scout from the air. Find out what you can, bring the king back if he still lives.” Keturah didn’t wait for a response before snapping her fingers and vanishing.

  Taurnil and Gideon stood in the drowsy light of morning and stared at each other. The intensity of the paladin’s eyes evaporated in the inky blackness of the pale demon’s lightless orbs. Gideon looked away.

  “The moment I sense your treachery, demon, I will not hesitate to cut you down.” Gideon began walking toward the riverbank, heading south.

  “I could kill you with a thought,” Taurnil hissed back through his jagged maw. It was a lie, but one that Gideon had no way of knowing. Taurnil, a creature created from pure magical essence, could not use much magic himself. He had command over shadows and could manipulate light, but his arcane abilities were very limited beyond the realms of optical illusion.

  “We will shadow these goblins, all the way to Reikall if we must. I will pursue from the eastern bank of the river, to protect the villages we pass.” Gideon pointed toward the forest with his armored hand. “You will fly above the forest and track them. We meet up every night at dusk and every morning at dawn. You have the advantage of mobility, so I expect you to come and find me.”

  Taurnil was already a few feet above Gideon’s head when the paladin finished speaking. He lowered his head and took off for the distant shore, wanting more than anything to find vengeance on the other side of the river.

  Gideon shook his head, glad to be rid of the demonic beast for a while. His muscled body was warm in the morning sun and the gleaming steel covering his left arm reflected the summer brightly. Patches of brilliant white light danced about the man’s leather boots as he walked.

  The riverbank still wet with morning dew, the tall grasses rising up beyond the tall man’s belted waist. Gideon crouched down low, trying to make out any signs of the goblin pair on the other side. No movement on the other riverbank betrayed the presence of enemies. Still holding his crouch, Gideon moved further south through the tall grasses, his body getting soaked by dew with every step. A large shadow darted among the tree tops on the other side, something Gideon could only hope was Taurnil.

  Having no clear sign to follow other than the airborne demon, Gideon subtly made his way back from the edge of the Clawflow and took off in a jog, trying to match Taurnil’s pace from a distance.

  The small goblins were easy for Taurnil to spot. The demon was perched quietly in the upper boughs of a tree, waiting for the pair to move by underneath them. Green turned to brown and then to black on the leaves beneath the sinewy beast’s ashen skin. The very presence of such evil tainted the living plants around him.

  Gravlox came into view beneath the tree first, leading Vorst behind him. They were moving slowly, their pace diminished by the jagged gash on Vorst’s hip. Taurnil looked down to the barb on the end of his leathery wing and smiled, remembering the hit that nearly impaled the goblin. The three humanoids were barely more than two miles south of Cobblestreet but it was clear that Vorst needed to rest her aching side.

  Gravlox gingerly set the female goblin down against the base of the tree and took his travelling pack off. He produced some sort of food from the pack and fed it to his injured companion one piece at a time. Vorst’s eyes slowly rolled back in her head as she ate and Taurnil quickly straightened his back and turned to put a thick branch between her vision and his skin. Taurnil was quick and Vorst was slightly delirious—she didn’t notice the beast in the tree above her.

  The goblin foreman sat down on the grass beside the female, letting go a long sigh. Vorst leaned her head to rest it on Gravlox’s shoulder, a gesture that clearly unsettled the recipient. Gravlox put a tentative arm around Vorst’s back and pulled her in close, trying his best to comfort the wounded goblin. Taurnil cocked his head to the side, having no way of comprehending the scene unfolding beneath him.

  Keturah often placed her arms on the demon’s back and shoulders much the way the two goblins did, but Taurnil did not know why. He always understood the gesture to be one of ownership and control, nothing more. Taurnil’s mind raced, thinking back to the times when Keturah had touched him, wondering if there was any ulterior motive behind the woman’s actions. The beast did not feel the pangs of physical attraction and was immune to all of the softer emotions that accompanied such feelings.

  Inquisitively, Taurnil continued to stare down at the goblins from his high perch. The two goblins were speaking to each other in soft tones, a language that reminded Taurnil of the high-pitched wails of tormented souls in the abyss. The wounded goblin moved herself closer to her companion, nestling her head next to his. Even the emotionless beast in the tree could tell that Gravlox felt unnerved and cautious. Taurnil, sensing the trepidation underneath Gravlox’s shaking hands, readied his wings for flight. He expected some sort of trick or other form of treachery aimed at himself or the male goblin. Everything felt like an elaborate trap, one that Taurnil had no way of anticipating.

  The demon did not like feeling powerless.

  Much to the surprise of both Taurnil and Gravlox, the wounded female goblin reached an arm up behind her companion’s bald head and their lips met. The kiss lingered for what felt like an eternity to all three of them. Taurnil fully expected a dagger to flash up and rip the life from the male goblin. Why else would the wounded one have gotten so close to him if not to kill him? “Goblin, you are more a fool than I had thought, letting your guard down,” Taurnil whispered past his jagged teeth. The three tongues within his maw writhed, playing out the beast’s frustrated confusion.

  Gravlox’s hand grasped the rugged bark of the tree, supporting Vorst as their limbs became entangled. Something around the two goblins was different. The air became charged as though lightning had just struck the ground. The leaves on the ground swirled through the air, ever so slightly, dancing softly on the warm earth. Taurnil could feel the magic seeping from the goblin’s hand and climbing up the tree. Leaves began to grow anew beneath the demon’s feet.

  It took a conscious effort for Taurnil not to lose his connection to the foul magic of the abyss, so strong was the energy washing over him through the tree branches. The emotion accompanying the pure magic was completely foreign to Taurnil, an exotic rush of heat that caused his
wings to flex and his arms to tighten. He tried to conjure a wave of ethereal darkness around his feet, hoping to stem the flow of energy into his body, but no magic would obey his call. The abyss felt so far away, like a distant memory of a dream.

  Miraculously, the seeping wound on Vorst’s hip closed and the flesh knitted itself back together. Taurnil could only watch in bewilderment as the leaves around the pair swirled faster and faster. The beast closed his black eyes and tried to conjure forth a vivid image of his home in the maelstrom darkness of the abyss. Fleeting images of blackened evil approached the edges of his mind but Taurnil could not hold them.

  Suddenly, as quickly as the warm energy had assaulted the demon, it retreated. Wave after wave of magic left the beast and coursed back through the bark and into Gravlox’s hand. The goblins pulled away from each other and Vorst stood. The female goblin offered a hand to her mate and pulled him from the ground. The two of them continued to speak but Taurnil did not understand. Within a moment, Vorst had darted out of view with Gravlox fast on her heels.

  Taurnil looked up at the sky, the strong summer sun stinging his soulless eyes. Acid pumped from his tongues and filled his mouth with bile, a familiar and comforting taste. Taurnil spat the glob of poison out, dissolving the nearest tree branch to toxic ash. He smiled, truly enjoying the decay that radiated from his corrupted body. The abyss called to Taurnil, filling his physical form and wrapping his mind in a cold embrace. His wings shot out, shredding the dying leaves and cutting through the branches as he thrashed. With the goblins out of sight, the abyss was alive inside him again.

  Taurnil dropped to the ground with a thud, sending a cloud of dark grey ash into the air. “Yes,” he bellowed, feeling the magical connection solidifying in the area of his being where a soul should have been. “These two are strong,” he cackled, “but whatever magic connects them can be severed by the black claws of the abyss.”

  The monster clicked his sharp claws together and flexed. A wide smile covered his face as he leapt into the air and took flight.

  ***

  GRAVLOX BREATHED HEAVILY, his chest rising and falling with the crunch of leaves and twigs under his naked feet. Vorst was always a few steps ahead of him, running with boundless energy. The two goblins had been moving at a frantic pace for the entire day, slowing only once to cross a small stream. Somehow the healing magic that Gravlox had called forth during their kiss had energized Vorst and brought a new lust for life into her step. Gravlox thought it was the result of magic, at least.

  It wasn’t until around midnight that their bodies started to tire and Vorst had to stop. Gravlox arrived at the creek where Vorst had stopped, a tributary of the mighty Clawflow, just a few steps behind her. Vorst was already floating on her back in the calm stream, casually splashing around with her delicate arms. Her travelling pack was resting on the mossy shore, along with the short leather pants that the female goblin always wore.

  Gravlox quickly came to a halt and removed his own animal hide vest and studded skirt, tossing them to ground before jumping into the stream. The water was cool against his pale skin, making what little hair he had stand on end. Vorst swam over to him, splashing water on his face and jumping about. The stream wasn’t deep, but there was plenty of water for Vorst to latch onto Gravlox’s shoulders and dunk his head beneath the surface.

  The taller goblin planted his strong feet on the slick pebbles of the streambed and pushed upwards, grabbing onto Vorst’s legs and sending her vaulting skyward. The two goblins landed with a splash but came up quickly, locked in a kiss. A warm moment passed before Vorst pulled away.

  “Um, Grav?” she said in a small voice, her eyes intently probing the surface of the water.

  “Yeah, Vorst?” Gravlox was staring at her beautiful head, bald and gleaming with water. He loved when she whispered to him. Her voice sounded like the gentle hum of the stream around them, high-pitched and airy, full of life.

  “When we get back to Kanebullar Mountain…” Vorst’s voice trailed off but she lifted her head from the water and looked into Gravlox’s eyes. “Will you live with me? We can find a new cave, a bigger one, and live together?” The smaller goblin was embarrassed as soon as she said it and pulled Gravlox in tight to avoid looking at him when he responded.

  “I would love to do that, Vorst.” He kissed her on the top of her head, pulling her in as tightly as possible. “Maybe we could even be married…” Gravlox could feel Vorst nodding slowly into his chest. Both of them smiled.

  Marriage was a concept stolen from the human kingdoms and adapted to a goblin society that naturally devalued the family unit due to the inability for goblin pairs to reproduce. Rather than wearing wedding bands like the human corpses that goblins often looted after a raid, Lady Scrapple’s progeny practiced a much more permanent symbol of union. Two goblins, after falling in love with one another, were expected to proclaim that love by cutting the pinky finger of their spouse’s left hand off. The removal of the finger could never be undone or easily hidden. Everyone knew that a nine-fingered goblin was married. The pain associated with the ritual only served to solidify the bonds of love, a willing sacrifice between two goblins.

  After an attack on a human settlement or caravan, goblins would loot the bodies of the fallen soldiers, taking every scrap of metal they could, wedding bands included. The ease with which a human could hide his marriage from the world or have the evidence of such a bond stolen after death is what led goblins to design their own physical manifestation of marriage.

  Vorst subconsciously rubbed the pinky of her left hand, running her fingertips over the knobby joint that signified her availability. “I would like that, Grav,” she said, giving him another kiss.

  The two goblins spent another moment together in the stream before climbing to the grass and collecting their belongings. Having no need for sleep, they simply slowed their pace to a casual walk in order for their bodies to recover, following the small stream to the south. The darkness of night was thick about the pair, muffling their footfalls and making the world disappear. They walked in silence, hand in hand, and listened to the calm sounds of the stream and forest.

  After nightfall Gravlox spotted a small cave opening farther down the path that piqued his curiosity. His natural night-vision was enhanced by years of working in the dark mines of Kanebullar Mountain and allowed him a good view of the cave. The opening was a slight hole in the ground, partially covered by fallen branches and leaves. Putting a hand on Vorst’s shoulder, Gravlox balanced himself and peered over the edge of the formation to get a better look.

  “Looks like a cave vent, some sort of air passage to a larger chamber down below,” Gravlox said, pushing the debris from the area. “Sometimes we drill chimneys like this in the ceilings of caverns so that air can move from chamber to chamber as the miners work,” Gravlox explained.

  “Is this a natural opening or something man-made?” Vorst got down on her belly, peering into the opening.

  “It’s hard to tell,” Gravlox replied. He moved slowly about the hole on his hands and knees, using his weight to test the ground’s stability. “Some animal probably lives down there and uses the opening to come out and hunt. Come on, Vorst, we should get going.”

  Gravlox reached a hand down and lifted Vorst from the ground. The female goblin jumped up and landed with a subtle thud that shifted the rocks beneath her feet. Gravlox took one step and, all of a sudden, the earth beneath their feet gave way. The small opening in the ground was instantly larger than both the small goblins combined, swallowing them in the blink of an eye.

  Thinking quickly, Gravlox was able to wrap an arm around Vorst and the two slid down the falling cascade of stone together. The goblins were enveloped by the hail of small rocks and dirt and fell into a sloped chamber a dozen feet below the mossy surface of the forest floor. The slanted floor of the cavern was angled steeply, carrying the two goblins even further underground.

  Gravlox was able to latch a hand around the base of a root prot
ruding from the smooth stone but it gave way almost as quickly as he had touched it. A crumbling chunk of stony dirt hit Vorst in the shoulder, knocking her away from Gravlox. The goblins reached out to one another but there was nothing they could do. The slanted stone of the cavern acted as a natural slide, rushing the pair underground with mounting speed.

  Despite the dirt in his eyes, Gravlox could make out the end of the slide in the dark cavern. The stone narrowed considerably, but with a natural partition separating him from Vorst. A similar taper existed a few feet below the falling form of Vorst. “Gravlox!” the terrified goblin called out through the sea of falling rock and dirt.

  “Vorst! Take my hand!” Gravlox reached out and tried to find his falling companion but the stone partition between the two goblins was quickly approaching. He knew if he let his wrist hit the solid barrier, it would surely shatter. Gravlox closed his eyes and hoped for the best, crossing his arms over his chest as his feet went through the narrow gap in the cavern.

  His head banged painfully off the stone ceiling and he shot through a nearly vertical tunnel. Stones pelted his head and chest but the sloped rock beneath him disappeared. Gravlox knew he was in free-fall.

  Somewhere far beneath him, the shaman could hear the sounds of water flowing. His body slammed into a wall of solid limestone, scrambling his senses and boggling his mind. The world around the goblin spun in a dizzying haze of dark splotches that obscured his vision. Gravlox knew he was still falling but couldn’t tell which direction. He was almost thankful when his bruised body finally came to a halt, face down in a very shallow pool of water.

  Groggily, Gravlox managed to roll himself over. He wasn’t sure if it was blood or cave water, but he coughed a stream of warm liquid out of his mouth and rubbed his eyes. A wave of sharp pain shot through his back as the battered goblin managed to bring himself to a sitting position. The cavern was huge, a large underground dome covered in slick moss and pale mushrooms.