Goblins

Goblin

Tug white skull was a goblin. Not a proud goblin or particularly noble one. He was skinny and frail and his ears large even for one of his ilk. He often stared at girls with his ample yellow green eyes and pondered licking them in places that he had only heard about.



Tug was born the son of a skilled rat hunter, and a pelt worker for a mother. Tug was laboring outside with his family, salty beads of sweat covered his entire body. the three of them worked with all their combined strength to stretch the skins of giant swamp rats.



His father had built wooden frames to stretch the skins. And was now singing in his families way as they labored well into the late afternoon.



Tug stretched and grimaced as he muttered, “Why are we building a new hut? What was wrong with the old one?” His father quickly clapped the boy over the head and snarled, “Because! Your momma is cold, now, shut up or I’ll let the pig eat you!” The hog’s ears perked up from across the nearby muddy pool. Tug stopped complaining.



They left a hole in the roof for the smoke, and built a small fire pit in the center, they piled all their favorite belongings around the edges. Their favorite things were stolen from humans, furs from a travelling merchant, carved eating utensils taken from a family lost in the wilderness. his mothers most favorite item was the black iron pot that she pulled from the wreckage of a burned out cabin. His grandfather had started the fire and given his daughter the pot as a wedding present. 



After a long day of work, Tug crept away and now sat like a lump by the river. staring into its filthy muddy murk he pondered putting a stick in it to see if the stick would stand. He stroked his long green nose, and tugged at his huge pig like ears. He was filled with wonder at the very promise that the stick held and he would not be denied the fun.



With a clumsy half lunge, he plunged the stick deep into the river bed. But his balance was not up to the task. His arms swept left, his legs went right. He landed with a crash and was up Sputtering and flailing only a moment later. Tug clambered out of the river and was greeted cruelly by the laughter of four nearby teens.

The four boys could barely breath, they held tight to their sides and guffawed. The lead boy, a sadistic little monster named Rack Snail guts, had a satisfied gleam in his tiny shining yellow eyes. He showed the points of every tooth proudly sticking them out just enough to be very attractive to the average goblin girl. Tug, on the other hand could pass for cute, and in goblin society, cute got you one of three things. Raped, ridiculed or both.



Rack and his buddies stomped away, silly grins on their faces. The rear most fellow, a club carrying worm of a goblin named Wort, stopped and pulled Tug out of the mud whispering, “You should come with us, it will be great!”Tug narrowed a little grin at Wort saying, “What kind of fun?”



As the boys walked Wort spoke in the most hushed of tones, “Through the woods, in a clearing by the rabbit run, there are humans camping. We’re going to rape their women and eat their children, you in?” Tug smiled his most genuine toothy goblin smile. Tug pushed his long curly dark hair from his eyes and headed quickly after the others.  He soon found Rack and the rest lying on their bellies, watching from the hills above, a tiny clearing far below where seven people made camp for the night.



The middle aged human male sported a great beard and blue robe; he tucked two young girls in their beds and then helped a boy split wood by the water with a very rusty looking axe. The plump mother wore a simple brown dress and kept her hair in a tight bun.



Rack looked to the others; he could not hide his pleasure. Rack whispered, “Smou, Smooda, you tie up the kids. We’ll sell them to Bloadrock later; Wort, you and Tug take the old man. I want first go at the woman.” Everyone nodded; Tug was so happy that he could barely contain himself. A silly smile began creeping its way across his face.



Rack gave the signal and they were off. Racing down over the hill as quickly as their short legs could carry them. Tug could barely keep up, the boys were older and faster than him, but he would not be left out. With his every muscle on fire, Tug tore down the hill with everything his tiny cramping legs could muster. It was far too late when he realized that the others had veered off. They were retreating when he burst into the clearing howling like a rabid animal. He was very much alone.



What had made the boys flee was the oaken staff in the man’s hand and the fiery light that poured from it. Tug could not hear the children screaming at his presence, all he knew was terror at the sight of the magic pouring from this common looking mans staff. Tug could not think, nor breathe. He stood in horrified silence as the now terrible looking wizard before him threw a large sack over his head and tossed him into the back of the nearby wagon.



Tug spent hours in terrified silence, the voices of the humans all around him, clear as a bell. They sounded more afraid then angry.  He tried to sit up, but fumbled about, the delicious odor of old fish all around him. Suddenly he realized that the wagon was moving, the humans had not killed him and were taking him away from his childhood home of rats porridge. “Please!” He screamed, calling for their mercy, but they could no more understand the goblin then he could them.



Tug worked his sharp little claws against the fabric, but it was useless and he received a good kick for his efforts. The journey was taking forever and soon he could smell the ocean, and began to imagine the humans tossing him into the sea. He shuddered at the notion. Human conversations outside and the sudden halt of the wagon left him breathless with terror. The sack was lifted and all of his sixty six pounds of goblin worth was being slung along like so many potatoes.



He was laid down surprisingly gently, and waited for what was to come, hoping that he might escape as soon as the opportunity presented itself. The sack fell open; all around him stood men clad in heavy plate mail. Their attention focused squarely on the tiny quivering goblin. Beyond them stood the blue robed wizard and before him, a strange man in highly decorated azure armor with a lion mounted on the left shoulder.



Tug stared at the strange pointed circlet on the lion man’s head and wondered what it meant. A much younger man was directed toward Tug. He wore a green robe, synched at the waist with a gold rope. He slowly, carefully knelt down to make eye level with the goblin and smiled a huge toothy smile. Tug tilted his head, back home this meant the boy was very powerful and he should show deference toward him.



Tug forced himself to urinate where he stood, he had no urge to do the other, so it was the best he could muster for the strange toothy man. The room exploded with shouting, every face curled up in revulsion, revulsion that Tug took as a good sign. So he smiled his biggest smile and lowered his head screaming like a kicked dog and stomping loudly in his own pool of urine.



“No!” yelled the green clad human, in Goblin! Tug halted his dance. “We don’t do water on floors, we sit, we quietly flying.” Tug sat where he stood, head tilted slightly, his own eyes not to wide so as not to provoke the strange mad man. The young human continued, pointing at the blue lion man as he spoke. “Me great chief, he want to know, how many you in woods?” Tugs heart leapt up in his chest as he began to understand what was happening. “Your chief wants to kill us Goblins, all gone?” whispered Tug.



“My name is Kenrith; I serve great chief as a word man and small shaman.” He turned Tug toward the king and through clenched teeth said, “You must ants him, they will hurt you big pain!” Tug shivered and scratched his parts. He stared at the chief and watched Kenriths face for some sign of humor. But every face was deadly serious, there was only hate here, none seemed to realize that in goblin standards, Tug was a teenager, he still had his birth name, and he tried to explain this to the young human.



“I am just a little goblin; I have not taken the soul of any animal, or raped an enemy’s daughter or son. I have never killed or eaten the heart of anyone great and I have not taken my soul quest into the woods.” Kenriths face turned from calm to bitter rage and try as he might, could not completely understand the goblin. He turned to Duke saying. “The goblin says this, my Liege, I am goblin! I have taken many souls and raped your daughters and farm animals! I will eat the heart of your great Chief and take his soul as my own!”  Duke Angus Three blades had never been so threatened, not by any human, elf or even the bravest Troll beneath the mountains.



Every voice in the room was raised in outrage; Tug was fairly shore that the human speaking for him was not doing such a good job. Tug grabbed him and demanded, “What are you telling them? Why are they so angry? I am no one! I know nothing!” Kenrith slowly began to realize that what he said may have not been the exact words of the goblin. But to admit that to his Duke, he would be better served leaping from the window.



Tug spun about looking for anyone who might be a better translator, but quickly realized that Kenrith was his only option. Tug decided to do the only thing he knew to do in this situation, lie, and allot.



“I know many secrets he said, but I won’t tell unless I go free! I can show you where they hide.” The chief and the blue robed wizard moved a little closer. The lion man grabbed Kenrith and glaring at Tug whispered threateningly.  Kenrith did his level best to translate for the startled goblin. “Give me your women, give them now, if you don’t I feed you to my mother and she be quite a savage bitch!”



Tug burst out laughing, the Chief looked confused, Kenrith grimaced and the blue robed wizard pulled the Duke aside for a moment of frantic whispering. Tug was sure Kenrith looked worried, but then the Lion man continued his venomous questioning. He grabbed Tug firmly by the shoulder and growled to the translator, “I will be laughed at by the likes of you, oh no, you can shovel shit all day but I won’t stop till I have your sisters!”



Tug tilted his head to the left, then the right, scratched his behind and sniffed his fingers. He could not get it across to the chief that Kenrith was an idiot. So he tried something different, he pointed at the young man, made a quick talking gesture with his hand and shook his head as he did it. One of the tall warriors in the room approached the Duke; his helm had great red feathers. Tug admired them and watched as the man seemed to be pointing something out to the Lion man chief. 



The chief turned sharply and glaring at Kenrith began shouting him down better then Tugs own father could have ever done. Kenrith was marched from the room and the Chief waited impatiently, his wizard paced. A long tormented hour past, when finally a human in decorated glistening armor marched in, followed by an odd boy with an even odder haircut and a strange blue gem for a left eye.



The decorated warrior spoke briefly to the Chief and then turned and knelt before Tug whispering. “I am Shunner Wraithslayer, there is no word in your language for what I am, but I promise you, I am terror given flesh.” Tug swallowed hard and took an uneasy step backward. Shunner continued, “I have hunted your kind and your kin for twenty years and shall do so till yours are a distant memory. My Duke wishes to know where your village is and those nearest you!”



This man, unlike Kenrith, frightened Tug. The steely grey of his eyes, the grey flecked black hair tied up in a warrior’s top knot, and the scars of his square face all made for a very intimidating man. Shunner stroked his neatly trimmed goatee and leapt up stomping his foot and roaring like a Troll down at the now terrified Goblin.



Tug fell backward across the floor screaming. He had not meant to panic, it just happened. His tumble had been followed by the laughter of all in the throne room. The Lion man was not impressed, he ordered the goblin imprisoned, the only reason Tug figured this out, was where he landed a few minutes later.



The view from his cell was bleak, they had not chained him and his cell had a view of a moat where fireflies danced. The low tower window was easy to climb up to; he used the old rusted chains and sat staring at the water from his alcove perch. He felt fortunate that the night air was mild; the only chill it held was the cruel mocking laughter of two guardsmen outside the tower tormenting a tiny flickering sprite from the water.



One of the men was poking her cruelly with his small finger; Tug could hear her tiny indignant screams. The other man was laughing so hard that he looked as though he would be sick. When the guard had finished his vicious game, he threw the tiny thing toward Tugs barred window.



Tug was mesmerized by the tiny sparkling creature; his eyes trained on her every beautiful curve and the twinkle of her magnificent wings. She was lying in a pool of her own blood. Tug smoothed her head gently with his little finger. A sad frown crossed his face and despite his nature, he shed a tear for the dying little fey. She reached out for him. He took her hand and cradled her blueberry sized head with his other hand. She began to whisper in his language, “Remember,” Was the only word she managed to say. Her light moved from her, and slipped into his fingertip for just a moment his entire body became aglow, then the light slowly began to fade. Tug was awash with emotion, he began to openly cry over the tiny dead creature that he held in the palm of his hands.



Not since he was a tiny child, had he cried, a lifetime of pent up emotion exploded and his grief both for his own life and the loss of the fey creature was more then he could handle. He could not stand to be a prisoner any longer and franticly began to scream at the humans in the dungeon tower outside his cell.



One of the guards walked slowly down the hall, his words were alien but aggressive sounding. He leaned down to be eye level with the waist high goblin and snarled at him. Tug steeled himself and quickly reaching through the bars poked the guard in the eyes. The guard reeled about and screamed for his companion. Tug soon realized that his attack on the guard may have been for not.



The rattle of the keys rang in the guards hand as he ran to open the cell. Tug braced himself and waited for the door to open. The guard was muttering angrily as he stepped in. Tug, with every ounce of strength he could muster, head butted the soldier in the crotch. The man buckled with a great exhale and tears in his eyes.



Tug burst past the ailing man and raced down the hall, he found that the guards had left the door to the tower wide open and a lit pipe lying on the stones. He grabbed the pipe and sped off toward the nearby woods on the very edge of the semi-fortified city. The Chiefs castle had been on the very edge of town, back on to the sea and the prison tower overlooking the dark woods beyond was an easy escape route when both the tower door and the back gate were left open by careless soldiers.



No human could have seen Tugs passage, it was pitch dark outside, but the young Goblin could see in the dark far better than any owl. His heart raced and suddenly his ears were filled with the sounds of soldiers on horseback and hounds baying. “You didn’t waste any time!” Growled Tug and pushed his legs toward the forests edge as quickly as he could. The soldiers were spreading out across the grassy field that Tug had made his flight across.



He was only a third of the way across the field when several hounds came charging dangerously close. They would find him in seconds and there was little to nothing he could do about it. The tree line was impossibly far and his legs were giving up. He sat amidst a strange cluster of oddly foul smelling flowers and waited shakily for capture. One of the dogs bolted in his direction, but to Tugs astonishment the animal whimpered and avoided the vile urine smelling flowers.



The hound shook its head madly and rubbed at its nose, it ran off to find the other hounds. Tug wasted no time and began rubbing the strange dusty yellow flowers all over him. That accomplished, he was off, a newfound vigor speeding his escape to the woods. The men sat on their horses in the center of the field, the confounded dogs ran about in all directions.



Within minutes, beneath the cover of night, Tug had slipped into the forest and was away from his pursuers. His joy was immense, and he could not contain his laughter, though he was really starting to feel itchy.

















To Grandma’s house

It was mid afternoon when Tug awoke to the howl and fury of a blasting summers wind. The nearby roar of the ocean told him that he was still too close to the human town. All he wanted was to get back home, to warn everyone that the humans were hunting them. But one thing was very obvious, he was very lost.



He spun about and looked in all directions; he knew that he had travelled a day by horse and wagon. He remembered having heard the sea. Which left him one of two ways to travel, and one of them would surely take him much farther from his beloved village of Rats porridge. He chose to follow the setting sun, the coastline through the trees on his right.



Tug wondered through the ever thickening brush, the trees grew taller the deeper he traveled. He was truly startled to come suddenly on a path. It was narrow and could have been a rabbit run, but for the few human sized tracks heading along its length.



Tug walked with determination, every footstep a call to arms. He dared the world to take him on, his chest was puffed and his eyes narrow with the promise of untold danger. From out of nowhere Tug heard an odd noise that caused him to sprint for the nearest bush. He crawled on his belly to catch a better look.



Tug could see an elderly human, sitting by a small shrine to some god. She was behind a ramshackle cottage with a partially caved in roof made of sod and sticks. The walls of her home were clay blocks stacked only a few feet from the ground. Like the Goblins of his village, she too must have dug a pit for her house. The old woman preyed, “Akule, god of magic and life, give me another year on this world, so that I might find it in me to change those things that I have failed to in life.”



A scornful laugh came from the crooked back door, as a half blind old man wondered out saying, “You foolish old bitch, why do you waste your time with false gods and fairy tales!”  He growled and toppled one of the stone figurines she had carefully placed only seconds ago. “You only started preying to the god’s because you wanted to go to heaven, spent your whole bloody life a worthless drunk and you’ll go to Hell a worthless drunk! Preying isn’t going to change nothing woman!”



Tug watched the heartbreak on the old woman’s face; he never wanted her pain. Somewhere in him, there was a small place for these hurts. He watched her tight lips curl revealing stained sparse teeth, and he winced at how she tore at the matted mop of hair on her head. The old man snarled and headed into the hovel, shouting over his shoulder, “Get in and cook my sausages, damn it woman don’t make me ask you again!”

If this had been a Goblin woman, her husband would be face down in his own sausages, that’s why Goblin men don’t rape Goblin women, “They’d get there cocks chewed off,” Muttered Tug.



Tug watched the house awhile, and then decided that the ugly little hovel was worth robbing. He crawled toward the one rear window and climbed gingerly up on a rain barrel to get a better look. It being broad daylight made him very nervous, for him it was like the middle of the night, but he was getting accustomed to the bright greens and many strangely colored flowers.



He took a peek through the hole in the wall that served as a window, and saw the old woman putting delicious smelling sausage on the wooden plate of the scrawny, grizzled old man. He ate and he complained, it was first to hot, then to much salt. He demanded a drink of his favorite ale and made the old woman lift the floor near the stove only to make her way in and out of a cellar below.



She brought him beer, in a wooden cup. He drank it down and growled, “Warm as piss!” She winced and gathered his plate. He shook his head and muttered, “Useless old bat.” For a moment she looked toward the window. Tug knew that she had looked him right in the eyes, but she had not even flinched. He lost sight of her, and then, she was at the window whispering in Goblin! “Don’t be afraid, I will feed you.”



Stay put, run, poke her eyes out, he was not sure which to do, and so he whispered, “Ok,” then hopped down off the barrel. It was nightfall before she came outside. His stomach was protesting loudly. She carried an old basket in her hands and knelt laying it before him. Goblins never say no to free things, and Tug was no exception. He quickly pulled out several sausages, cheese and round bread, eating them all in short order.



“My name is Agni Southmoss that terrible man they call my husband is Clause.” Tug nodded speaking with a mouth full of cheese, “I don’t like him.” She shook her head and sighed, “It was never my choice to marry him. He took my virtue when I was a girl and our parents forced us to marry. We have hated one another ever since. But family honor, that had to be satisfied.”

Tug nodded and bounced to his feet, he headed past Agni and burst through the door. The old man in his broken rocking cheer slept through the intrusion. Tug scooped up an iron pan and used it on Clauses head. The old man was killed instantly, Agni walked in, no sign of surprise on her face. She had many dealings with the local Goblins and knew just how to make one kill for her, feed him and give him an opportunity.



Killing was normal to a Goblin, Tug had no remorse for the act, and little more than a human might regret killing a trout. The two of them gathered the body and tossed it unceremoniously over a nearby ocean cliff. Afterward Agni and Tug sat together watching the wave’s crash as though they had been out for an evening stroll.



Tug looked up at her and said, “I’m lost, you said you know Goblins. Do you know my tribe?” She shook her head, “One is the same as another to me honey, but If you want to stay with me awhile you can, I could use the company and I would teach you my language if you life?” Tug agreed whispering, “I might never find home, I’m so lost. I do want to know what the humans say to me.”



As they walked Agni pointed out objects and helped Tug to learn their meaning. Days quickly began to turn to weeks and while he learned her tongue, he helped repair her house. A new roof made of branches and sods, a rebuilt stone fireplace newly free of the decades of soot that had built up there. Tug Labored day and night for his new friend and though he could not fathom why he helped the old woman so very much, he continued anyway.



Agni could not hide her smile, “I cannot believe how well you have learned to speak Thangean.” She said with a song in her voice. Tug chuckled nodding, “I know believe how much work me do for you.” She patted his shoulder saying, “I do,” he grinned.



One morning Tug found his way behind the cottage to Agni’s shrine to Akule, he admired the carved stones statuettes representing the god. Near the back of the low alter of clay and stone he spotted a bone carving of a toad. He felt an odd urge to pick it up and admire the old looking piece. Agni who had been watching from her vegetable garden nearby spoke up saying, “That is the symbol of Mazranon the Destroyer, they say he is the father of Akule and maker of all you see around you.”





Tug turned the tiny carving over in his hands and rubbed his fingers along its smooth surface. Agni pointed to it saying, “They say he was the maker of all Goblin kind, when I was a girl, before I married, I was being apprenticed to a very well educated sorceress. She told me that it was humans that caused your people to become what they are today.”



“What were we before?” asked Tug with genuine curiosity. Agni ran her hands through her hair and said, “Centuries ago, long before man grew to power with the new gods, the Goblin people were a race of powerful fairies, their magic powerful enough to move mountains. They built many great mountain cities that stood for thousands of years before human kind came along. Tugs head tilted slightly as he said, “We had cities and fairy magic? That’s hard to believe, as much as I love my people, we’re not too smart and I have never seen magic.”



“Oh Tug, but it’s true, your people were among the mightiest makers of this world. Goblins could engineer anything, do anything they set their minds too. It was the growing power of the human race that was their eventual undoing.”