AGoblin'sTale

by Scott

  “Oh shit. Move!” one of the men yelled as he saw the hobgoblin speeding toward them.

  Several of the bandits turned, then tried to move out of the way when they saw Blacknail speeding toward them. Most of them were too slow. Blacknail pushed and twisted through them. The men swore angrily as he shoved them aside or knocked them over.

  Scamp was now running toward three men seated around a campfire. The bandits appeared to be eating stew from a pot. Blacknail continued chasing the goblin, and with his longer legs, he was steadily closing the distance between them.

  Once again, Scamp maneuvered through the clump of men. Blacknail was only a few feet away though, and he pounced at the goblin. Unfortunately for Blacknail, he missed as Scamp threw himself to the side. The hobgoblin landed on all fours in the middle of the men and startled them. There were surprised shouts as they all shot to their feet.

  As Blacknail scrambled to get back to his feet and continue the chase, something landed on his back, then he felt hot liquid splash all over him. One of the bandits had accidentally knocked over the stew pot, and it had spilled onto Blacknail.

  Instinctively, the hobgoblin tried to shake himself dry, sending droplets of wasted stew flying everywhere. Most of the goop was too sticky to be so easily removed, but the bandits gave several more alarmed shouts and tried to back away as the slimy droplets flew everywhere.

  Blacknail gave an enraged scream and bounded after Scamp. Forget teaching him a lesson—he was going to rip the goblin apart with his bare hands and enjoy every last hour of it! How dare the useless goblin not obey him!

  At the sound of Blacknail’s scream, the fleeing goblin cast a nervous glance back. When he saw Blacknail chasing him, he yelped and raced toward a nearby pile of firewood. The hobgoblin was hissing with rage and practically frothing at the mouth as he bore down on the smaller goblin.

  Scamp dove into the woodpile and disappeared. Blacknail was right behind him. He jumped onto the woodpile and began tearing it apart. Pieces of firewood flew in every direction as the hobgoblin madly dug into the center of the wood stack.

  Soon, a small crowd had gathered to see what was going on. Mahedium had followed Blacknail and was standing to one side of the commotion. As he looked on, the mage was biting his thumb and clearly nervous.

  “What in all the bloody hells is going on here?” Red Dog exclaimed as he walked over.

  “Ah… the other goblin—Scamp, I believe his name is—stole some of my mana stones. The hobgoblin, Blacknail, chased him down to get them back. Now though, I fear circumstances have caused him to become more than a little enraged. He’s trying to dig Scamp out,” Mahedium explained fretfully.

  “He’s making a damned mess is what he’s doing. Where in all the hells are Saeter and Varhs? This is their responsibility,” a scowling Red Dog asked.

  “Well… there’s another problem,” Mahedium told him.

  Red Dog sighed. “Story of my life it seems. Go on, tell me.”

  “The goblin may somehow have the ability to trigger the flawed mana stones in its possession,” Mahedium explained reluctantly.

  One eyebrow rose on Red Dog’s thick face as he gave the mage a look full of disbelief. “And what exactly does that mean?”

  “Well, since the crystals are flawed, the effect of the goblin activating them is unpredictable.”

  “Guess,” Red Dog replied dryly.

  Mahedium hesitated. He clearly didn’t want to answer this question. “Most likely they will explode, but really, anything could happen. They might do nothing, emit harmless light, disintegrate the user, or produce a sound that kills everyone who hears it… but he probably won’t actually trigger the crystal. He would need a good reason to do that.”

  “Like, say, fear for instance?” Red Dog asked sarcastically.

  “Um, yes…”

  Red Dog turned back to the woodpile that Blacknail was ripping apart. He stared at the hissing, enraged hobgoblin for a few seconds before turning back to Mahedium. “I would be very afraid if I were him.”

  Mahedium stood there looking worried for a few seconds. “What are you going to do?”

  “Me? I’m going to back the fuck up ‘til I’m outside the range of an explosion, then I’m going to plug my ears,” Red Dog replied.

  Mahedium didn’t seem reassured. He turned back toward Blacknail and started biting his thumb again.

  Several minutes passed as Blacknail dug. He was trying to budge a particularly large and stuck piece of lumber when he heard something that broke through his rage.

  “Blacknail, you filthy beast, stop that now!” an angry-sounding voice yelled.

  The hobgoblin instantly stopped. By this time, he had cut his way fairly deep into the timber pile, so he had to straighten up and turn to glimpse the source of the voice. The other option was to dive deeper and join Scamp in hiding.

  Herad was standing a few feet from the edge of the wood heap, and she was glaring at him. The rage that had built up inside Blacknail quickly withered as it was smothered by cold fear. Frantically, Blacknail thought back to the last few minutes and tried to remember if he had done anything to piss her off. He winced slightly as he remembered running through the group of bandits. That wasn’t so bad though. Blacknail was almost certain Herad wouldn’t feel the need to kill him over it, but then again, with Herad, you never knew.

  “Come down here,” Herad commanded.

  Blacknail warily did as he was told and hopped off the stacks of wood. As he moved, he noticed that Herad wasn’t alone. A very worried-looking Varhs stood beside her. The younger scout looked rough as usual—all the bandits did—but he looked slightly pale underneath the dirt and fuzz on his face.

  As the cowering hobgoblin approached, Herad turned to Varhs. “Varhs, I’m told your pet goblin started this mess. When you asked to keep the goblin, you were warned what would happen if you didn’t keep it out of trouble. I don’t like wasting my time on crap like this, so what do you have to say for yourself?” She sounded more disappointed than angry, but her voice was still cold and unyielding.

  Varhs gulped before answering her. “I’m sorry, boss. Scamp’s a good boy; I don’t know what’s gotten into him all of a sudden. I’m sure that if everyone were to just calm down, I could call him out and get the stuff back. Everyone’s just making mountains out of molehills here.” He shot an accusatory glance at Blacknail.

  That infuriated the hobgoblin. He wasn’t to blame at all! All he had done was try to catch the little thief. It was too much for Blacknail, and he spoke up. “Scamp’s mess is all your fault. You don’t train him-ss right. No beatings or orders, just treats! You’re a terrible master. He is still wild and needs hard-ss training.”

  Varhs and Blacknail stared at each other angrily for a few seconds before Herad bothered to respond.

  “What do you think, Saeter? You usually have an opinion on everything,” Herad asked snidely.

  Blacknail blinked in confusion for a few seconds, then followed her gaze to his left, where his master now stood. The hobgoblin hadn’t noticed his approach.

  “This isn’t my business, but Blacknail’s right. Varhs’s goblin isn’t trained properly,” Saeter responded calmly.

  “Hmmm, we agree for once. The goblin goes and Varhs pays the price then,” Herad mused aloud.

  Varhs looked as if someone had just kicked him in the balls. His faced was twisted up with pain and regret. “I’m sorry, boss. It’s only been one time though. Give me another chance. I’ll make sure Scamp behaves. I beg you!”

  “I don’t give second chances, and I hate begging. You’ve wasted my time enough, and it won’t happen again,” she replied with a cold, judging tone. Her eyes were dark and contained not even the slimmest glimmer of mercy.

  Varhs cringed, and a desperate look appeared on his face as he turned to Saeter and Blacknail. “Come on, Blacknail, I know you’re mad, but Scamp’s a goblin like you! You can’t want to see him disposed of. I’ll take the punishment, but please, why don�
��t you take Scamp?”

  Blacknail gave Varhs a befuddled look. Scamp was nothing like him, and why should he care about other goblins? He would be happy to see the wretched thief gone.

  “I don’t want a badly trained goblin,” Saeter said.

  “Fine, Blacknail, I’ll give you treats if you train Scamp. You’ve been criticizing me and how I do it. Let’s see you do better!” Varhs offered.

  “What kind-ss of treats? I have all the meat-ss I need,” Blacknail asked.

  “Stuff from town. Types of meat and tasty human food you’ve never had before,” Varhs said.

  Blacknail considered it. He would get to try new delicious foods and beat sense into Scamp as much as he wanted. He threw a questioning glance at Herad. The chief had to give her permission.

  “I’ll allow it. You can keep the critter, Varhs. However, Blacknail will be responsible for training him every day. He knows how to train a goblin, and he’s ruthless enough to correct any problems that crop up,” Herad told them as she stood with her arms crossed.

  “Fine-ss, but I train him how I want,” Blacknail answered.

  Varhs looked relieved and seemed as though he was going to thank Blacknail, but Herad cut him off. “This debate has already taken up too much of my time. If you know what’s good for you, then you’ll call your goblin out right now and pray he listens.”

  Varhs jumped to obey. He ran up to the woodpile, calling for Scamp and reassuring the goblin that he would be safe. A few minutes later, a very scared goblin emerged from the woodpile. He was shivering, and his eyes were huge. The crystals were still in his hands, and he flinched as he noticed Blacknail staring at him. The hobgoblin was actually smiling, but for some reason Scamp didn’t seem to find that comforting.

  Varhs held out his hand, and Scamp placed the crystals in them. Even after all the trouble they had caused him, the goblin seemed hesitant to give them up. Once he had the mana stones, Varhs returned them to Mahedium, who looked relieved to have them back.

  Much to everyone’s surprise, the mage handed one of the stones back to the goblin. “I’ll let you keep it if you can make it glow again.”

  Scamp gave the mage a bewildered look, then he stared at the stone in his hands. When nothing happened, he gripped it tighter until he almost seemed to be trying to crush it.

  “Nothing is happening. You must have imagined it. There’s no way goblins can do magic,” Red Dog remarked with a snort of disbelief.

  Mahedium threw him an annoyed glance. By this time, most of the camp seemed to have gathered to see what had been going on. Even Vorscha and Geralhd had wandered over.

  “It takes training to burn a crystal—on purpose anyway. I don’t tell you how to stick a sword in someone's face and make off with their coin pouch, so don’t attempt to lecture me about the nature of magic and mages,” Mahedium replied condescendingly.

  Before Red Dog could reply, there was a flash of light as Scamp’s crystal came to life in his hands. White light blazed from between his fingers. It was bright enough to reveal the shadows of his bones, but after a few seconds, it winked out.

  “Ha! As a first major discovery, this is undoubtedly an odd one, but it is one nonetheless. The guilds believe that humans are the only species able to burn and utilize mana stones, but obviously I have proved them wrong! Clearly those inbred thugs aren’t as good at magic as they believe.” The mage had a smug smile as he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out another light stone. He tossed it to an off-guard Blacknail, who fumbled and almost dropped it. “Try to light it up.”

  With an indifferent shrug, Blacknail looked at the crystal in his hands. He stared at it and concentrated. What had Scamp done to make his light up? The hobgoblin squeezed the stone as hard as he could. Several minutes went by, but nothing happened. Feeling frustrated and annoyed, Blacknail tossed the useless rock back to Mahedium.

  “Hmm, it seems like goblins are similar to humans in that only part of the population is mage-born. I would need much more comprehensive testing to be sure though,” Mahedium mused aloud.

  Red Dog rolled his eyes and snorted in annoyance. He was glaring at the mage. “This just means you’re going to have to lock up your crystals. Other than that, it’s a pretty bloody useless discovery.”

  “I can think of several uses for this. For instance, I could use the goblin’s blood instead of my own as a catalyst to start crystal formation, and it would be interesting to test if the ability is exactly the same in both species,” Mahedium responded dismissively.

  “Vorscha, come here, and you two be quiet. Everyone else, get your useless asses out of here,” Herad suddenly announced as she walked over to Red Dog and Mahedium.

  She threw a glare at the nearby crowds, and they quickly dispersed. Soon, only Red Dog, Saeter, Geralhd, Vorscha, Mahedium, Varhs, and Blacknail were left. They stood in a loose half circle facing Herad.

  “Since you’re all here and I’ve already wasted too much of my time, I’m going to go over our future plans right now,” Herad told them. “I told you earlier this year that I would probably be heading north to Daggerpoint before winter set in, and that’s still the plan.”

  “Why? I thought we were claiming this territory as our own,” Vorscha asked.

  “That’s what we’re doing—”

  Blacknail was distracted by a grumble from his stomach. As the humans discussed the nitty-gritty details of something he didn’t really care about, the hobgoblin thought about food. He had a bunch of dried meat in one of his pouches, but he sort of felt like something sweet instead.

  Oh, there was that clump of berry bushes out in the woods. Hmmm, berries, that would really hit the spot. The hobgoblin glanced around. It didn’t look as though anyone here would miss him, or had even noticed him, so he could step out and grab a snack. He would probably get back before the humans got to anything important anyway. They really did love to hear themselves talk.

  Chapter 31

  While Herad and Saeter were exchanging particularly deep scowls and arguing about something unimportant, Blacknail tiptoed away. There was a nearby berry bush he wanted to pluck clean, and all the pointless talking the humans were doing was annoying.

  It didn’t take him long to slip away to the edge of the forest. Everyone in camp had grown used to him by now, and he had quickly learned how to move without drawing attention anyway. As a rule, humans weren’t observant unless you gave them a good reason to get excited.

  Once there, the hobgoblin trekked through the woods toward his destination. Blacknail hopped excitedly over a fallen tree as the green canopy grew thicker overhead. He was really going to enjoy munching down on those berries. Just thinking about their sweet tangy taste was making his mouth water. He had to lick his lips to prevent drool from getting all over his shirt.

  Soon, Blacknail reached a spot in the woods where the trees grew thinner and eventually gave way to a small clearing. There, where the sunlight mixed with the shade cast at the edge of the trees, was where the juiciest berries grew. The hobgoblin bounced over and carefully reached into the thorny plants to pluck his favorite fruits. As the succulent flavor hit his tongue, he groaned. Then he picked the berries as fast as he could and shoved them into his mouth.

  Eventually, when he’d filled himself and his lips had turned purple, Blacknail belched and swaggered back to camp. He figured the humans were done with all the useless talking by now, and if not, they were easier to ignore on a full stomach.

  On his way back to the camp, a whiff of something unexpected filled his nostrils. He stiffened and cast a nervous glance at his surroundings, but all he saw was the normal mix of trees and bushes. The scent was strange and he couldn’t quite identify it, but it did smell somewhat familiar. Maybe it smelled sort of like that huge monstrous slime he’d defeated? It was more like an animal though, and to be giving off so much scent, it had to be a large one.

  Curiously but with a fair bit of caution—this was the forest, after all—Blacknail sniffed around to fi
nd the source of the smell. It didn’t take him long to discover a trail that something had torn through the underbrush. He bent to examine it as he ran his fingernails through the dirt. It was interesting. Whatever had made the scent had come this way, then retreated in the same direction. Judging by the lack of footprints and the drag marks, it was probably another slime.

  Now that Blacknail was a hobgoblin, he wasn’t afraid of running into a slime. He had defeated a huge one when he’d been a mere little goblin. Now no slime could possibly be a match for his deadly warrior skills!

  His memory of things so long ago was kind of fuzzy, but he was pretty sure Herad had really wanted to find out where the slime had come from. If Blacknail traced the thing back to its lair, then his chieftain was sure to reward him! The forest might be a dangerous place to explore, but the thing that had made this trail had a sort of pleasant floral scent, so how dangerous could it be?

  The hobgoblin gave one last look around at the trees and bushes before heading deeper into the forest in pursuit of his reward. He was headed in a direction that the bandits in Herad’s band usually avoided. The ground here was muddy and practically swamp-like. As he walked, a fair number of the nearby trees were replaced by bleached white husks leaning at odd angles. The constant floods here brought on by the rain had obviously killed a lot of trees. The healthier ones were thick and lush though, if kind of short.

  As he scampered across a tree trunk that had fallen over a small stream, something caught Blacknail’s eye. There was a dried up pond to his left with only a bit of water left in the center of it. The wet season was over, and there had been very little rain lately. Along the muddy banks of the pool was a large rocky crevice, and the trail Blacknail was following led right to it. The hobgoblin cautiously made his way closer and examined the entrance to the cave.

  The water left in the pond lapped against the bottom of the crevice, and it looked as though the entire thing would most likely be underwater during the wet season. That would definitely explain why no one had found it before. Most of his tribe bathed only slightly more than he did, which was almost never.