Arthur Daigle's Blog
August 22, 2025
Mad Goblin Publishing
Goblins are known for being short, stupid and slightly crazy, and surprisingly literate. Most goblins can read and write enough to share basic messages, even if most of the time they only write graffiti. Some goblins even develop a love of writing and use this skill to spread mayhem with false and defamatory messages about the rich and powerful. But a few goblins have taken this skill to the next level and actually publish books. The world wishes they hadn’t.
Mad Goblin Publishing
Ten years ago, a group of goblins rallied together to form a guild dedicated to writing. This small team of fifty goblins began writing books filled with bad puns and insults against kings living, dead and imaginary. Proud as could be at completing their first book, they took it to a publisher to get it into print. They were thrown out on their ears, but that usually happens when goblins show up at a place of business, so they didn’t take it personally. They then sent the manuscript to publishers under a fake name, Rex Lignob.
After six to eight weeks they got their book back with a written message. The goblins were outraged at the publisher’s comments. Unprofessional. Libelous. Used the Oxford comma. Wouldn’t make a sale but would get the publisher tarred and feathered. The guild was up in arms at this harsh feedback and cowardice. What person goes into publishing if they're afraid of hot tar? Other publishers were contacted, but the results were always the same: not interested.
One dark and dreary night the goblins came to a terrible decision. If no one would publish their book they’d do it themselves. They christened themselves Mad Goblin Publishing and dedicated themselves to sharing their book with the masses. They stole printing supplies, moved into an abandoned stone fort and went to work. Three weeks later they’d finished a limited edition run. Not interested in money, they snuck copies into hundreds of libraries across eight kingdoms, confident they’d made the world a better place. They continued writing new books and reissuing older copies, never for pay and always certain they’d created masterpieces.
There have been eleven attempts to destroy Mad Goblin Publishing. Eight were done by major publishing houses who’d been blamed for creating the books, two were by kings offended by the content and one was by Coslott the Conqueror, but most people agree it wasn’t personal as he was destroying everything up to and including tea parties. Each attempt has failed, either not finding the goblins’ lair or being driven off when they did. The goblins relocate once a month to avoid their enemies and keep writing, but they can’t prevent their books from being burned. Thousands of Mad Goblin Publishing’s books have gone up in flames, only to be replaced weeks later.
A small sample of Mad Goblin Publishing’s books may explain this harsh reaction. Their first book, The Pink Fuzzy Bunnies of Doom, has been banned in eight kingdoms. In it, a toxic waste dump containing depleted uranium fuel rods, dinosaur DNA, dead aliens and expired hair care products spontaneously produces pink fuzzy bunnies. These creatures go on a rampage, destroying entire kingdoms before they’re stopped by the power of friendship. And nerve gas. The Pink Fuzzy Bunnies of Doom has been credited with inspiring eight peasant revolt, one heresy and five thousand cases of irritable bowel syndrome.
This was followed by Hippopota-Mess, where an anthropomorphic purple hippo clutters up her room so much it becomes a pocket dimension of garbage. Parents in eleven kingdoms claim it encourages being messy and hoarding bits of string (it does), poor hygiene (again true) and creating fire hazards (yep). The sequel, Happy Hippo Says Hello, is less divisive but still gets burned.
Most recently Mad Goblin Publishing released The Uppa Puffa Stumpalumps. Few know what’s in it because every copy has been burned. Those who destroyed these books refuse to say what it’s about and all of them have required extensive therapy. Seeing a single page has been known to break men’s minds, and page 27 caused two wars.
Most people would have given up after such a backlash, but goblins treat this as an occupational hazard and proof they’re doing it right. To their credit, there are places where their books are accepted. The Infinite Library keeps a copy of most of their books. The Archivists are researching the books and speculate what inspired them. Some kings are trying to weaponize them. But most copies are kept and traded by naughty children and adults who never quite grew up. They read the books and keep them safe in underground libraries. A few of these children go so far as to join Mad Goblin Publishing as beta readers, where they ensure only the most immature and idiotic content is allowed.
Mad Goblin Publishing
Ten years ago, a group of goblins rallied together to form a guild dedicated to writing. This small team of fifty goblins began writing books filled with bad puns and insults against kings living, dead and imaginary. Proud as could be at completing their first book, they took it to a publisher to get it into print. They were thrown out on their ears, but that usually happens when goblins show up at a place of business, so they didn’t take it personally. They then sent the manuscript to publishers under a fake name, Rex Lignob.
After six to eight weeks they got their book back with a written message. The goblins were outraged at the publisher’s comments. Unprofessional. Libelous. Used the Oxford comma. Wouldn’t make a sale but would get the publisher tarred and feathered. The guild was up in arms at this harsh feedback and cowardice. What person goes into publishing if they're afraid of hot tar? Other publishers were contacted, but the results were always the same: not interested.
One dark and dreary night the goblins came to a terrible decision. If no one would publish their book they’d do it themselves. They christened themselves Mad Goblin Publishing and dedicated themselves to sharing their book with the masses. They stole printing supplies, moved into an abandoned stone fort and went to work. Three weeks later they’d finished a limited edition run. Not interested in money, they snuck copies into hundreds of libraries across eight kingdoms, confident they’d made the world a better place. They continued writing new books and reissuing older copies, never for pay and always certain they’d created masterpieces.
There have been eleven attempts to destroy Mad Goblin Publishing. Eight were done by major publishing houses who’d been blamed for creating the books, two were by kings offended by the content and one was by Coslott the Conqueror, but most people agree it wasn’t personal as he was destroying everything up to and including tea parties. Each attempt has failed, either not finding the goblins’ lair or being driven off when they did. The goblins relocate once a month to avoid their enemies and keep writing, but they can’t prevent their books from being burned. Thousands of Mad Goblin Publishing’s books have gone up in flames, only to be replaced weeks later.
A small sample of Mad Goblin Publishing’s books may explain this harsh reaction. Their first book, The Pink Fuzzy Bunnies of Doom, has been banned in eight kingdoms. In it, a toxic waste dump containing depleted uranium fuel rods, dinosaur DNA, dead aliens and expired hair care products spontaneously produces pink fuzzy bunnies. These creatures go on a rampage, destroying entire kingdoms before they’re stopped by the power of friendship. And nerve gas. The Pink Fuzzy Bunnies of Doom has been credited with inspiring eight peasant revolt, one heresy and five thousand cases of irritable bowel syndrome.
This was followed by Hippopota-Mess, where an anthropomorphic purple hippo clutters up her room so much it becomes a pocket dimension of garbage. Parents in eleven kingdoms claim it encourages being messy and hoarding bits of string (it does), poor hygiene (again true) and creating fire hazards (yep). The sequel, Happy Hippo Says Hello, is less divisive but still gets burned.
Most recently Mad Goblin Publishing released The Uppa Puffa Stumpalumps. Few know what’s in it because every copy has been burned. Those who destroyed these books refuse to say what it’s about and all of them have required extensive therapy. Seeing a single page has been known to break men’s minds, and page 27 caused two wars.
Most people would have given up after such a backlash, but goblins treat this as an occupational hazard and proof they’re doing it right. To their credit, there are places where their books are accepted. The Infinite Library keeps a copy of most of their books. The Archivists are researching the books and speculate what inspired them. Some kings are trying to weaponize them. But most copies are kept and traded by naughty children and adults who never quite grew up. They read the books and keep them safe in underground libraries. A few of these children go so far as to join Mad Goblin Publishing as beta readers, where they ensure only the most immature and idiotic content is allowed.
January 8, 2025
Goblin Organizations
Goblins as a rule are weird but can be defined by the guilds they belong to. Builders, diggers, warriors and lab rats have some common features, so you know what to expect if a goblin wears a mining helmet or carries a saw. But sometimes goblins go beyond these guilds to form likeminded communities. These groups are massively weird and inhabit a small area, but they are surprisingly stable, following the same customs for decades or centuries.
Cave goblins are a small band of fifty goblins that have decided to act like primitive beings. They wear only animal skins, although nobody can identify which animal they came from. They only use stone tools, ignoring bronze, iron or steel when offered. And they speak in a series of unintelligible grunts and hoots.
Odd as this is, cave goblins live exclusively in the philosophy department of the Vastan Institute of Magic and technology, an exclusive and fantastically expensive school of higher learning. All efforts to evict them (the cave goblins, not the philosophy department) have failed and resulted in major property damage. The philosophy department eventually decided to ignore them and hope they go away. This makes for odd staff meetings and frequent messes in the break room, but it sort of works.
Gibberish goblins get their name from the utter nonsense they speak. This originated thirty years ago when a foreigner wandered into a village of three hundred goblins and tried to speak with them. They didn’t understand his language and after a few minutes the man left to try his luck elsewhere. This gave the goblins the idea of inventing their own language.
Except it’s not a language in any sense of the word. Bored linguists have tried to decipher the gibberish goblins’ language and failed. There’s no logic to it, and what few rules there are changes on a weekly basis. It appears even the gibberish goblins themselves don’t understand it. But they’ve gone on talking total nonsense for thirty years.
The three hundred Uncle Bob goblins aren’t as weird as cave or gibberish goblins, but not for a lack of trying. Centuries ago, they met a man from the Ethereum Empire who had survived the destruction of his airship. Goblins gathered around the strange man, who at one point used the expression ‘Bob’s Your Uncle’. This confused the goblins, who had no uncle, but they very much wanted one. They pestered the poor man with questions until he fled, never getting a good explanation of what the expression meant.
Still confused, the goblins decided they somehow acquired an uncle named Bob. They didn’t know who he was or where to find him. In their twisted little minds everyone became Uncle Bob regardless of race, age or gender, and they addressed everyone they met as Uncle Bob. If you give them your real name, they insist you’re confused and are really Uncle Bob. If they encounter dozens or even thousands of people, all of them are Uncle Bob. It is a sign of great love and respect for someone if they use that person’s real name.
Lastly is the Goblin Gambling Syndicate, an organization eight hundred strong with branches in three cities. Goblins love gambling and make frequent wagers on ridiculous events, so when a few of them stumbled upon an illegal casino they felt completely at home. They tried to participate in the betting, but they were thrown out for the silly reason of having no money. Annoyed, they swore that they’d make their own casino.
It shouldn’t have worked. It did. They rallied more goblins to their idiotic cause, took over abandoned barns and set up wagers and betting events. In typical goblin fashion these were stupid bets, like when will the moon explode or who would win in a fight, a tree or a rock. Goblins gathered in their thousands to bet small green frogs on the outcomes. The fact that some bets haven’t been completed in two hundred years doesn’t bother the goblins at all.
The Goblin Gambling Syndicate has had one breakout success, baby racing. In this event babies old enough to crawl but not walk are raced against one another by placing them in lanes twenty feet long with a cup of vanilla pudding at the end. The baby that reaches the pudding first is declared the winner, although all the babies get to eat their cups of pudding. Babies are brought by older siblings who also receive free pudding. Goblins wager furiously on these events, and to everyone’s amazement so do some humans. There have been efforts to outlaw these events, but the baby racing lobby is surprisingly strong.
Cave goblins are a small band of fifty goblins that have decided to act like primitive beings. They wear only animal skins, although nobody can identify which animal they came from. They only use stone tools, ignoring bronze, iron or steel when offered. And they speak in a series of unintelligible grunts and hoots.
Odd as this is, cave goblins live exclusively in the philosophy department of the Vastan Institute of Magic and technology, an exclusive and fantastically expensive school of higher learning. All efforts to evict them (the cave goblins, not the philosophy department) have failed and resulted in major property damage. The philosophy department eventually decided to ignore them and hope they go away. This makes for odd staff meetings and frequent messes in the break room, but it sort of works.
Gibberish goblins get their name from the utter nonsense they speak. This originated thirty years ago when a foreigner wandered into a village of three hundred goblins and tried to speak with them. They didn’t understand his language and after a few minutes the man left to try his luck elsewhere. This gave the goblins the idea of inventing their own language.
Except it’s not a language in any sense of the word. Bored linguists have tried to decipher the gibberish goblins’ language and failed. There’s no logic to it, and what few rules there are changes on a weekly basis. It appears even the gibberish goblins themselves don’t understand it. But they’ve gone on talking total nonsense for thirty years.
The three hundred Uncle Bob goblins aren’t as weird as cave or gibberish goblins, but not for a lack of trying. Centuries ago, they met a man from the Ethereum Empire who had survived the destruction of his airship. Goblins gathered around the strange man, who at one point used the expression ‘Bob’s Your Uncle’. This confused the goblins, who had no uncle, but they very much wanted one. They pestered the poor man with questions until he fled, never getting a good explanation of what the expression meant.
Still confused, the goblins decided they somehow acquired an uncle named Bob. They didn’t know who he was or where to find him. In their twisted little minds everyone became Uncle Bob regardless of race, age or gender, and they addressed everyone they met as Uncle Bob. If you give them your real name, they insist you’re confused and are really Uncle Bob. If they encounter dozens or even thousands of people, all of them are Uncle Bob. It is a sign of great love and respect for someone if they use that person’s real name.
Lastly is the Goblin Gambling Syndicate, an organization eight hundred strong with branches in three cities. Goblins love gambling and make frequent wagers on ridiculous events, so when a few of them stumbled upon an illegal casino they felt completely at home. They tried to participate in the betting, but they were thrown out for the silly reason of having no money. Annoyed, they swore that they’d make their own casino.
It shouldn’t have worked. It did. They rallied more goblins to their idiotic cause, took over abandoned barns and set up wagers and betting events. In typical goblin fashion these were stupid bets, like when will the moon explode or who would win in a fight, a tree or a rock. Goblins gathered in their thousands to bet small green frogs on the outcomes. The fact that some bets haven’t been completed in two hundred years doesn’t bother the goblins at all.
The Goblin Gambling Syndicate has had one breakout success, baby racing. In this event babies old enough to crawl but not walk are raced against one another by placing them in lanes twenty feet long with a cup of vanilla pudding at the end. The baby that reaches the pudding first is declared the winner, although all the babies get to eat their cups of pudding. Babies are brought by older siblings who also receive free pudding. Goblins wager furiously on these events, and to everyone’s amazement so do some humans. There have been efforts to outlaw these events, but the baby racing lobby is surprisingly strong.
December 7, 2024
New Goblin Stories 30
Brody woke up the next morning to more of the same. Frightened people left Sunset City while others remained because either they were too stubborn to leave or they had nowhere to go. Crowds of guardsmen and conscripted civilians searched for the Dawn Lantern. Some goblins helped them, but others had given up the hunt. Brody was shocked when he recognized one goblin walking away from the search teams.
“Little Old Dude, where are you going?” he asked.
The elderly goblin was leading his crowd of goblin students to the outskirts of the city. “No point looking anymore.”
“But we haven’t found the lantern!”
“Too many enemies will get here before we find it, if we ever do. It’s a better use of our time to get ready for them.” Little Old Dude leaned in close to Brody. “Watch your friend the hero. He’s starting to crack under the stress.”
“Too many people are asking too much from him. You know, it’s crazy, we might get killed for something that’s not here.”
Little Old Dude gave Brody a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll keep in touch. Ibwibble, we’re setting traps!”
Ibwibble ran after Little Old Dude. “Finally!”
Despair hung over the city like a cloud. Brody saw a young human couple with a baby at the door to an apartment. The woman was seeing her husband off and said, “Be careful, my love.”
“I’ll return to you safely.” He kissed her and then the baby. “We’ll get through this and all other challenges, Isa.”
The man left and Brody was going to move on as well when he spotted goblins in an alley next to the apartment building. They were armed with clubs and lassos, and one wore a rug as a cape or cloak. There was also a tool shed in the alley, an odd place to have one. Brody frowned when the shed moved.
“Excuse me, but did that tool shed smile at me?” Brody asked the goblin mob.
The goblin wearing the rug smiled. “He’s very friendly.”
Goblins were good at dealing with nonsense, so Brody just shrugged and left. If that was the weirdest thing that happened today he’d count it as a win. He’d only gone a short distance when he saw a monk pulling a cart loaded with bee hives down the street. A goblin with lavender skin sat on top of the wagon.
“Mangus Quake, now that’s an easy name to spell,” the lavender goblin said as he scribbled onto a scrap of paper.
“He’s not an enemy to be taken lightly,” the monk replied.
“That’s why he’s on the list.”
Brody shook his head and went to the warehouse where Julius was directing the search. Once inside he found the situation had changed only a little. There were more guardsmen, and they were armed and armored for a fight. Archibald and Kadid Lan stood by the magic mirror, but like Little Old Dude they’d given up hope of finding the Dwan Lantern. Instead they used the mirror to study the edges of Oceanview Kingdom.
“We’ve spotted Lord Bryce and his men,” Kadid said. “He brought more of them than I’d thought.”
Brody studied the mirror and saw four wagons pulled by horses, with a dozen men in each wagon. An elegant carriage led them with Lord Bryce at the reins. “He came in person? That’s risky.”
“If he didn’t, his hired men might seize the Dawn lantern for themselves,” Archibald said. “Yips, stop drawing mustaches on the mirror.”
Yips giggled and made no attempt to erase the black mustache he’d drawn on Lord Bryce’s face. “How about a black eye and pimples?”
Kadid grabbed a rag and wiped the mirror clean. “He’ll be here by nightfall. We also saw four suspicious ships heading for Sunset City. They’re clustered together and not flying any kingdom’s flag.”
Archibald adjusted the mirror’s controls to zoom in. “Give me a moment to…it’s the Red Hand. They’ve loaded the ships with men.”
Julius walked up to the mirror. “Any sign of the vampires or the Inspired?”
“Not yet, but vampires and master wizards are fast,” Kadid said. “They could be a hundred miles away and reach us in hours.”
“Does anyone else want to get in on this?” Brody asked.
“We’re trying to prevent that,” Julius replied. “Are there armies or knights close enough to deal with them?”
Archibald continued adjusting the mirror. “None. King Baldos has moved most of his forces to the borders.”
“What for?” Brody asked.
Just then Officer Dalton entered the warehouse escorting Anton. Anton spotted Julius and yelled, “What did you do with Craig?”
“Who?” Yips asked.
“Just as well you don’t remember him,” Brody told him.
Julius stepped back from the mirror and addressed Anton. “Your friend is helping to avert a war. Last night we received word that three nearby kingdoms threatened to invade unless we hand over the Dawn Lantern. King Baldos went with his lawyer, a hundred knights and your fellow prisoner Craig to convince those kings that we don’t have it and never did.”
“How is Craig supposed to stop armies?” Anton demanded.
“By going under oath and testifying about the Truth Seekers, including how they were subverted,” Julius replied. He saw confused looks from both men and goblins, and explained, “Lawyers have powerful abilities, including placing a person under oath so they can only tell the truth.”
“That’s one less threat,” Kadid said.
“Not necessarily,” Archibald said. “The kings threatening to invade may not believe Baldos. There are ways to evade telling the truth even under oath by giving testimony that is both true and inaccurate.”
Officer Dalton frowned. “Huh?”
Brody snapped his fingers. “Wait, I think I get it. Baldos could say no man has found the Dawn Lantern, but a woman found it so it’s still kind of true.”
“No one would fall for that one anymore,” Archibald replied. “It’s an omission used far too often. But he could say none of his subjects found the Dawn Lantern, which could mean someone like myself who isn’t his subject did find it. He could also say the Dawn Lantern isn’t in Oceanview Kingdom while knowing its exact location outside his borders.”
“I feel queasy,” Office Dalton said.
Yips clutched the sides of his head. “Brain hurting, trying to escape through my ears!”
“Stop explaining the law to them,” Julius ordered. “Much more of that and we’ll all need therapy.”
Anton still wasn’t satisfied. “Why did you send him and not me? I’m the leader of the Truth Seekers. I’d be the better person to represent my group, and our failings.”
“You have a more important job,” Julius told him. “We received word that Gron and three Truth Seekers were captured and are on their way here. I need you to convince those three men that they’ve been used and need to cooperate with us. And you need to be present for Gron’s interrogation. You know him better than we do and can help spot his lies.”
Anton scowled. “Oh yes, I want to see him again.”
Hours dragged by without progress. Guardsmen fortified the city as best they could, but their numbers were low. Civilians with military experience were drafted into service. After that guardsmen gave spears and shields to any able bodied man they could find. They ran out of weapons long before running out of men. Messengers were sent to get help. The few who returned reported that knights and soldiers were on the border facing off against powerful armies that could attack at any second.
It was getting late when Habbly found Brody outside a stable and walked over. Habbly waved his mop at Julius, who was talking with two guardsmen, and asked, “Any good news?”
“Kadid got word through the magic mirror that King Baldos is talking with the other kings. We think he’s convinced them the Dawn Lantern was never here and they’re being played for fools. Hopefully tens of thousands of men aren’t going to attack.”
“Hurray,” Habbly said blandly. “Brody, exactly how crazy are we? On a one to ten scale.”
“Four. Four and three eighths tops. Why?”
“I figure we’re way higher than that. We should have both run away the second this started. Instead we keep getting dragged in deeper. Evil wizards, conspirators, foreign spies. It’s way too much for goblins to deal with.”
Brody shrugged. “Running away wouldn’t help. Things would have kept getting worse and worse until there was no way to avoid it. We did our part to keep this from getting bigger and hurting more people. I’ve got friends who would get hurt if I did nothing. I didn’t used to have friends. Kind of nice not being alone, even if it means you have to take risks for them.” Brody waved at the guardsmen still on the street. “They’re not my friends, but I’ve been around them long enough to know they’re good. I don’t want bad things to happen to them.”
Habbly gazed at the setting sun. “I’d like life to settle down, go back to the good old days when goblins were the ones causing problems. We caused little problems and nobody got hurt, just embarrassed and dirty. Soiled trousers at most. Those were happy times.”
“There were no good old days,” Archibald interrupted them as he walked out of the warehouse and stretched his arms. “It’s a sad fact I’ve learned that every time in history had its share of problems. Some years were worse than others, but there were always hardships to deal with.”
“You must be bored it you’re discussing philosophy with goblins,” Habbly said.
“Forgive my involving myself in your conversation,” Archibald replied. “It reminded me of talks I’ve had with my brother Archivists, and I couldn’t help but speak. I actually came here when my magic wards detecting help coming. Come, my friends, for luck finally favors us.”
Julius, Kadid, Officer Dalton and Anton left the warehouse to find Archibald pointing his staff into the sky at a white cloud heading straight for them. The magic cloud began a leisurely descent, revealing its crowd of passengers. Harry Silt was in front with his werewolf, currently a beautiful woman with long black hair and dressed in black satin. Behind them were burly men holding Truth Seeker prisoners bound hand and foot. Goblins clustered at the cloud’s edges and babbled incessantly.
Officer Dalton nodded at the woman. “There’s a reason to become an evil overlord.”
“Yep,” Kadid Lan replied.
“Gentlemen, please,” Archibald said.
Kadid Lan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”
Julius walked in front of the group. “Say it somewhere else.”
The cloud landed in front of Julius, but it didn’t dissolve and no one stepped off it. The evil overlord nodded to the woman, who grabbed their prisoners and threw them at Julius’ feet. She said, “Four verminous liars, as you requested. I don’t know why you want this trash, but they’re yours.”
“We’re grateful for your help,” Julius replied. “Forgive me for asking, but there are powerful enemies on their way to Sunset City. Your help would go a long way to protecting innocent lives.”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t doubt your words, but I have my own problems and followers to defend. Whatever this is about, you’ll have to handle it without us.”
“Mr. Silt,” Archibald said tersely.
“I don’t ask you to understand why I did this, master, but believe me when I say good men are alive today because of the choices I made.” Harry nodded to Julius and then made the magic cloud rise above the rooftops and soar away.
One of the Truth Seekers managed to rise to his knees. He blinked and asked, “Anton?”
Anton walked by him. “I’ll explain later. Gron!”
The old man stayed on the ground, but he grinned as Anton approached. “Finally figured it out for yourself, or did someone have to draw you a picture?”
“It was a picture,” Brody said.
Yips smiled. “We drew it with crayons.”
Anton grabbed Gron and pulled him up until the old man was sitting. “You destroyed everything I tried to accomplish! I wanted to save the world!”
Gron looked amused. “What are you complaining for? I saved your life.”
“You ruined me!” Anton screamed.
“Can’t tell when a man is being honest with you? It’s true. Duke Thornwood heard of your stupid papers and ordered me to kill you before you spread secrets about the Land of the Nine Dukes. I convinced him to spare you and your idiot followers. Told him you could be useful. Heh, useful idiots. Every kingdom is filled with them.”
Julius stepped between the two men. “You spread distrust among kingdoms and cities around the Land of the Nine Dukes, hoping to pit neighbor against neighbor so no one could take advantage of your master’s weakness. You’d spawn conflicts, possibly wars, giving your master time to recover from the damages done by the Fallen King without fear of attack.”
“And it worked perfectly.” Gron laughed at Anton. “I had your measure the moment I saw you. Smart, angry, inexperienced, and best of all arrogant. You’d save the world? Overturn every corrupt and evil leader, because only you knew the truth, only you knew what was right. I thought it would be hard to trick you, but I barely did anything. You were out of money? I told you who we could rob and said they were bad men. Why bother checking if I was right? No, just steal all the gold you could carry.”
Gron nodded at Julius. “This self righteous nitwit saved entire kingdoms. I thought you’d never turn on him, but I didn’t have to say a word before you told everyone where he was going and what he was doing. Did the Red Hand thank you? Nearly got a hero killed, and you didn’t bat an eye. Why would you when you were the champion of the truth.”
Red faced, Anton screamed, “You told lies in my name!”
“Hundreds of them,” Gron said cheerfully. “I told people what they already wanted to hear, the same as I did with you. I knew who they hated and gave them more reasons to hate. I knew who they envied and told them their enemies had treasures ripe for the taking. And then you told everyone the Archivists were looking for the Dawn Lantern.”
Gron’s eyes narrowed, and his leering smile showed dirty teeth. “It was brilliant, boy. I would have never thought of it. Well done! You riled up the most dangerous men in a thousand miles, exciting their greed and ambition, but why stop there? I took it a step further and told them exactly where to find the lantern, unclaimed and ready for anyone to grab it and become all powerful. I showed them no evidence or witnesses, and it didn’t matter. It worked better than I could have ever hoped. The Inspired even believed me and they’re supposed to be geniuses. Then again, you’re supposed to be pretty bright, too.”
Anton tried to punch Gron, but Julius held him back. Gron laughed and continued ranting. “There’s no man so blind as one on a mission, willing to sacrifice everything to reach a distant goal. That beautiful vision of the future always just out of reach justifies doing anything to everyone. Steal gold. Ruin families. Destroy businesses. Get people killed. Start invasions. Be honest with me, boy, as a truth teller to a liar. You see the panic and horror around you, a city on the verge of attacks or even invasion. If you really thought the Dawn Lantern was hidden here, would you still tell the world? I think you would, and you’d sleep like a baby afterwards, because you’d told the truth.”
Anton screamed and lunged at Gron. Julius pulled them apart while Gron laughed. Julius ordered, “Officer Dalton, get the prisoners inside. Kadid, use the magic mirror to tell King Baldos that we’ve got the man behind this lie. Once all the kings know Duke Warwick is responsible for this they’ll stop threatening one another and turn their attention to the Land of the Nine Dukes.”
“Did you hear that, Gron?” Antoin yelled. “Your plan backfired! The people you wanted to fight each other are going to come after your master. You didn’t save him, you doomed him!”
Gron kept smiling. “King Baldos isn’t going to attack anyone after this is over. Anton, did you know your loyal idiots kept sending me reports after you were captured? Honest reports. I know who’s coming, and this is going to be brutal.”
Julius grabbed Gron by his heels and dragged him into the warehouse. “We need to warn our enemies, too. They might turn back once they know they’re being used. Archibald, is there a way to contact Magnus Quake and the rest of the Inspired?”
“They wouldn’t believe me,” Archibald warned as he followed Julius. He was going to say more when glowing bells appeared around his head. “My wards have been triggered! We are in danger!”
“Secure the prisoners and warn King Baldos,” Julius ordered as he entered the warehouse. Kadid ran by him and headed for the magic mirror. The young wizard was ten feet from the mirror when it flashed and exploded. Julius dropped Gron and ran over to help Kadid up. “Are you hurt?”
Kadid coughed and rubbed his right arm. “Just bruised. I was far enough back when it blew up”
Brody tugged on Archibald’s robes. “You said our mirror would explode if the Inspired tried to interfere with it.”
“I did.” Archibald marched outside. The others followed him and gazed out at the night sky. The sun had just set, leaving them barely enough light to see a stone pillar thirty feet high circled by two more pillars twenty feet high, all three flying high in the air and approaching Sunset City. Surrounding those were dozens of boulders between twenty and thirty feet across.
“What’s that?” Yips asked.
“Magnus Quake, who has prepared heavily for this battle,” Archibald replied.
“I meant the other that.” Yips pointed in the opposite direction where strange winged creatures as big as men flew toward Sunset City.
Archibald cast a spell and formed strange glowing letters in the air. He grimaced and with a wave of his hands dispelled the words. “Allow me the dubious honor of introducing Vampire Lord Vacast and his followers. The Dawn Lantern is said to grant them the power to walk in daylight, a boon they desperately desire. Clearly they have come to claim it.”
Warning bells rang near the docks, drawing everyone’s attention to four merchant ships approaching Sunset City to release their repulsive crew. The Red Hand had come, and their men numbered in the hundreds. Lord Bryce’s arrival almost went unnoticed as he entered the outskirts of Sunset city with a far smaller force, but one wearing plate armor and wielding spears and swords.
Citizens cried out in terror. Guardsmen ran by to face the threats. Draft animals brayed and bellowed. And over it all was the hideous sound of Gron laughing.
“Little Old Dude, where are you going?” he asked.
The elderly goblin was leading his crowd of goblin students to the outskirts of the city. “No point looking anymore.”
“But we haven’t found the lantern!”
“Too many enemies will get here before we find it, if we ever do. It’s a better use of our time to get ready for them.” Little Old Dude leaned in close to Brody. “Watch your friend the hero. He’s starting to crack under the stress.”
“Too many people are asking too much from him. You know, it’s crazy, we might get killed for something that’s not here.”
Little Old Dude gave Brody a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll keep in touch. Ibwibble, we’re setting traps!”
Ibwibble ran after Little Old Dude. “Finally!”
Despair hung over the city like a cloud. Brody saw a young human couple with a baby at the door to an apartment. The woman was seeing her husband off and said, “Be careful, my love.”
“I’ll return to you safely.” He kissed her and then the baby. “We’ll get through this and all other challenges, Isa.”
The man left and Brody was going to move on as well when he spotted goblins in an alley next to the apartment building. They were armed with clubs and lassos, and one wore a rug as a cape or cloak. There was also a tool shed in the alley, an odd place to have one. Brody frowned when the shed moved.
“Excuse me, but did that tool shed smile at me?” Brody asked the goblin mob.
The goblin wearing the rug smiled. “He’s very friendly.”
Goblins were good at dealing with nonsense, so Brody just shrugged and left. If that was the weirdest thing that happened today he’d count it as a win. He’d only gone a short distance when he saw a monk pulling a cart loaded with bee hives down the street. A goblin with lavender skin sat on top of the wagon.
“Mangus Quake, now that’s an easy name to spell,” the lavender goblin said as he scribbled onto a scrap of paper.
“He’s not an enemy to be taken lightly,” the monk replied.
“That’s why he’s on the list.”
Brody shook his head and went to the warehouse where Julius was directing the search. Once inside he found the situation had changed only a little. There were more guardsmen, and they were armed and armored for a fight. Archibald and Kadid Lan stood by the magic mirror, but like Little Old Dude they’d given up hope of finding the Dwan Lantern. Instead they used the mirror to study the edges of Oceanview Kingdom.
“We’ve spotted Lord Bryce and his men,” Kadid said. “He brought more of them than I’d thought.”
Brody studied the mirror and saw four wagons pulled by horses, with a dozen men in each wagon. An elegant carriage led them with Lord Bryce at the reins. “He came in person? That’s risky.”
“If he didn’t, his hired men might seize the Dawn lantern for themselves,” Archibald said. “Yips, stop drawing mustaches on the mirror.”
Yips giggled and made no attempt to erase the black mustache he’d drawn on Lord Bryce’s face. “How about a black eye and pimples?”
Kadid grabbed a rag and wiped the mirror clean. “He’ll be here by nightfall. We also saw four suspicious ships heading for Sunset City. They’re clustered together and not flying any kingdom’s flag.”
Archibald adjusted the mirror’s controls to zoom in. “Give me a moment to…it’s the Red Hand. They’ve loaded the ships with men.”
Julius walked up to the mirror. “Any sign of the vampires or the Inspired?”
“Not yet, but vampires and master wizards are fast,” Kadid said. “They could be a hundred miles away and reach us in hours.”
“Does anyone else want to get in on this?” Brody asked.
“We’re trying to prevent that,” Julius replied. “Are there armies or knights close enough to deal with them?”
Archibald continued adjusting the mirror. “None. King Baldos has moved most of his forces to the borders.”
“What for?” Brody asked.
Just then Officer Dalton entered the warehouse escorting Anton. Anton spotted Julius and yelled, “What did you do with Craig?”
“Who?” Yips asked.
“Just as well you don’t remember him,” Brody told him.
Julius stepped back from the mirror and addressed Anton. “Your friend is helping to avert a war. Last night we received word that three nearby kingdoms threatened to invade unless we hand over the Dawn Lantern. King Baldos went with his lawyer, a hundred knights and your fellow prisoner Craig to convince those kings that we don’t have it and never did.”
“How is Craig supposed to stop armies?” Anton demanded.
“By going under oath and testifying about the Truth Seekers, including how they were subverted,” Julius replied. He saw confused looks from both men and goblins, and explained, “Lawyers have powerful abilities, including placing a person under oath so they can only tell the truth.”
“That’s one less threat,” Kadid said.
“Not necessarily,” Archibald said. “The kings threatening to invade may not believe Baldos. There are ways to evade telling the truth even under oath by giving testimony that is both true and inaccurate.”
Officer Dalton frowned. “Huh?”
Brody snapped his fingers. “Wait, I think I get it. Baldos could say no man has found the Dawn Lantern, but a woman found it so it’s still kind of true.”
“No one would fall for that one anymore,” Archibald replied. “It’s an omission used far too often. But he could say none of his subjects found the Dawn Lantern, which could mean someone like myself who isn’t his subject did find it. He could also say the Dawn Lantern isn’t in Oceanview Kingdom while knowing its exact location outside his borders.”
“I feel queasy,” Office Dalton said.
Yips clutched the sides of his head. “Brain hurting, trying to escape through my ears!”
“Stop explaining the law to them,” Julius ordered. “Much more of that and we’ll all need therapy.”
Anton still wasn’t satisfied. “Why did you send him and not me? I’m the leader of the Truth Seekers. I’d be the better person to represent my group, and our failings.”
“You have a more important job,” Julius told him. “We received word that Gron and three Truth Seekers were captured and are on their way here. I need you to convince those three men that they’ve been used and need to cooperate with us. And you need to be present for Gron’s interrogation. You know him better than we do and can help spot his lies.”
Anton scowled. “Oh yes, I want to see him again.”
Hours dragged by without progress. Guardsmen fortified the city as best they could, but their numbers were low. Civilians with military experience were drafted into service. After that guardsmen gave spears and shields to any able bodied man they could find. They ran out of weapons long before running out of men. Messengers were sent to get help. The few who returned reported that knights and soldiers were on the border facing off against powerful armies that could attack at any second.
It was getting late when Habbly found Brody outside a stable and walked over. Habbly waved his mop at Julius, who was talking with two guardsmen, and asked, “Any good news?”
“Kadid got word through the magic mirror that King Baldos is talking with the other kings. We think he’s convinced them the Dawn Lantern was never here and they’re being played for fools. Hopefully tens of thousands of men aren’t going to attack.”
“Hurray,” Habbly said blandly. “Brody, exactly how crazy are we? On a one to ten scale.”
“Four. Four and three eighths tops. Why?”
“I figure we’re way higher than that. We should have both run away the second this started. Instead we keep getting dragged in deeper. Evil wizards, conspirators, foreign spies. It’s way too much for goblins to deal with.”
Brody shrugged. “Running away wouldn’t help. Things would have kept getting worse and worse until there was no way to avoid it. We did our part to keep this from getting bigger and hurting more people. I’ve got friends who would get hurt if I did nothing. I didn’t used to have friends. Kind of nice not being alone, even if it means you have to take risks for them.” Brody waved at the guardsmen still on the street. “They’re not my friends, but I’ve been around them long enough to know they’re good. I don’t want bad things to happen to them.”
Habbly gazed at the setting sun. “I’d like life to settle down, go back to the good old days when goblins were the ones causing problems. We caused little problems and nobody got hurt, just embarrassed and dirty. Soiled trousers at most. Those were happy times.”
“There were no good old days,” Archibald interrupted them as he walked out of the warehouse and stretched his arms. “It’s a sad fact I’ve learned that every time in history had its share of problems. Some years were worse than others, but there were always hardships to deal with.”
“You must be bored it you’re discussing philosophy with goblins,” Habbly said.
“Forgive my involving myself in your conversation,” Archibald replied. “It reminded me of talks I’ve had with my brother Archivists, and I couldn’t help but speak. I actually came here when my magic wards detecting help coming. Come, my friends, for luck finally favors us.”
Julius, Kadid, Officer Dalton and Anton left the warehouse to find Archibald pointing his staff into the sky at a white cloud heading straight for them. The magic cloud began a leisurely descent, revealing its crowd of passengers. Harry Silt was in front with his werewolf, currently a beautiful woman with long black hair and dressed in black satin. Behind them were burly men holding Truth Seeker prisoners bound hand and foot. Goblins clustered at the cloud’s edges and babbled incessantly.
Officer Dalton nodded at the woman. “There’s a reason to become an evil overlord.”
“Yep,” Kadid Lan replied.
“Gentlemen, please,” Archibald said.
Kadid Lan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”
Julius walked in front of the group. “Say it somewhere else.”
The cloud landed in front of Julius, but it didn’t dissolve and no one stepped off it. The evil overlord nodded to the woman, who grabbed their prisoners and threw them at Julius’ feet. She said, “Four verminous liars, as you requested. I don’t know why you want this trash, but they’re yours.”
“We’re grateful for your help,” Julius replied. “Forgive me for asking, but there are powerful enemies on their way to Sunset City. Your help would go a long way to protecting innocent lives.”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t doubt your words, but I have my own problems and followers to defend. Whatever this is about, you’ll have to handle it without us.”
“Mr. Silt,” Archibald said tersely.
“I don’t ask you to understand why I did this, master, but believe me when I say good men are alive today because of the choices I made.” Harry nodded to Julius and then made the magic cloud rise above the rooftops and soar away.
One of the Truth Seekers managed to rise to his knees. He blinked and asked, “Anton?”
Anton walked by him. “I’ll explain later. Gron!”
The old man stayed on the ground, but he grinned as Anton approached. “Finally figured it out for yourself, or did someone have to draw you a picture?”
“It was a picture,” Brody said.
Yips smiled. “We drew it with crayons.”
Anton grabbed Gron and pulled him up until the old man was sitting. “You destroyed everything I tried to accomplish! I wanted to save the world!”
Gron looked amused. “What are you complaining for? I saved your life.”
“You ruined me!” Anton screamed.
“Can’t tell when a man is being honest with you? It’s true. Duke Thornwood heard of your stupid papers and ordered me to kill you before you spread secrets about the Land of the Nine Dukes. I convinced him to spare you and your idiot followers. Told him you could be useful. Heh, useful idiots. Every kingdom is filled with them.”
Julius stepped between the two men. “You spread distrust among kingdoms and cities around the Land of the Nine Dukes, hoping to pit neighbor against neighbor so no one could take advantage of your master’s weakness. You’d spawn conflicts, possibly wars, giving your master time to recover from the damages done by the Fallen King without fear of attack.”
“And it worked perfectly.” Gron laughed at Anton. “I had your measure the moment I saw you. Smart, angry, inexperienced, and best of all arrogant. You’d save the world? Overturn every corrupt and evil leader, because only you knew the truth, only you knew what was right. I thought it would be hard to trick you, but I barely did anything. You were out of money? I told you who we could rob and said they were bad men. Why bother checking if I was right? No, just steal all the gold you could carry.”
Gron nodded at Julius. “This self righteous nitwit saved entire kingdoms. I thought you’d never turn on him, but I didn’t have to say a word before you told everyone where he was going and what he was doing. Did the Red Hand thank you? Nearly got a hero killed, and you didn’t bat an eye. Why would you when you were the champion of the truth.”
Red faced, Anton screamed, “You told lies in my name!”
“Hundreds of them,” Gron said cheerfully. “I told people what they already wanted to hear, the same as I did with you. I knew who they hated and gave them more reasons to hate. I knew who they envied and told them their enemies had treasures ripe for the taking. And then you told everyone the Archivists were looking for the Dawn Lantern.”
Gron’s eyes narrowed, and his leering smile showed dirty teeth. “It was brilliant, boy. I would have never thought of it. Well done! You riled up the most dangerous men in a thousand miles, exciting their greed and ambition, but why stop there? I took it a step further and told them exactly where to find the lantern, unclaimed and ready for anyone to grab it and become all powerful. I showed them no evidence or witnesses, and it didn’t matter. It worked better than I could have ever hoped. The Inspired even believed me and they’re supposed to be geniuses. Then again, you’re supposed to be pretty bright, too.”
Anton tried to punch Gron, but Julius held him back. Gron laughed and continued ranting. “There’s no man so blind as one on a mission, willing to sacrifice everything to reach a distant goal. That beautiful vision of the future always just out of reach justifies doing anything to everyone. Steal gold. Ruin families. Destroy businesses. Get people killed. Start invasions. Be honest with me, boy, as a truth teller to a liar. You see the panic and horror around you, a city on the verge of attacks or even invasion. If you really thought the Dawn Lantern was hidden here, would you still tell the world? I think you would, and you’d sleep like a baby afterwards, because you’d told the truth.”
Anton screamed and lunged at Gron. Julius pulled them apart while Gron laughed. Julius ordered, “Officer Dalton, get the prisoners inside. Kadid, use the magic mirror to tell King Baldos that we’ve got the man behind this lie. Once all the kings know Duke Warwick is responsible for this they’ll stop threatening one another and turn their attention to the Land of the Nine Dukes.”
“Did you hear that, Gron?” Antoin yelled. “Your plan backfired! The people you wanted to fight each other are going to come after your master. You didn’t save him, you doomed him!”
Gron kept smiling. “King Baldos isn’t going to attack anyone after this is over. Anton, did you know your loyal idiots kept sending me reports after you were captured? Honest reports. I know who’s coming, and this is going to be brutal.”
Julius grabbed Gron by his heels and dragged him into the warehouse. “We need to warn our enemies, too. They might turn back once they know they’re being used. Archibald, is there a way to contact Magnus Quake and the rest of the Inspired?”
“They wouldn’t believe me,” Archibald warned as he followed Julius. He was going to say more when glowing bells appeared around his head. “My wards have been triggered! We are in danger!”
“Secure the prisoners and warn King Baldos,” Julius ordered as he entered the warehouse. Kadid ran by him and headed for the magic mirror. The young wizard was ten feet from the mirror when it flashed and exploded. Julius dropped Gron and ran over to help Kadid up. “Are you hurt?”
Kadid coughed and rubbed his right arm. “Just bruised. I was far enough back when it blew up”
Brody tugged on Archibald’s robes. “You said our mirror would explode if the Inspired tried to interfere with it.”
“I did.” Archibald marched outside. The others followed him and gazed out at the night sky. The sun had just set, leaving them barely enough light to see a stone pillar thirty feet high circled by two more pillars twenty feet high, all three flying high in the air and approaching Sunset City. Surrounding those were dozens of boulders between twenty and thirty feet across.
“What’s that?” Yips asked.
“Magnus Quake, who has prepared heavily for this battle,” Archibald replied.
“I meant the other that.” Yips pointed in the opposite direction where strange winged creatures as big as men flew toward Sunset City.
Archibald cast a spell and formed strange glowing letters in the air. He grimaced and with a wave of his hands dispelled the words. “Allow me the dubious honor of introducing Vampire Lord Vacast and his followers. The Dawn Lantern is said to grant them the power to walk in daylight, a boon they desperately desire. Clearly they have come to claim it.”
Warning bells rang near the docks, drawing everyone’s attention to four merchant ships approaching Sunset City to release their repulsive crew. The Red Hand had come, and their men numbered in the hundreds. Lord Bryce’s arrival almost went unnoticed as he entered the outskirts of Sunset city with a far smaller force, but one wearing plate armor and wielding spears and swords.
Citizens cried out in terror. Guardsmen ran by to face the threats. Draft animals brayed and bellowed. And over it all was the hideous sound of Gron laughing.
November 29, 2024
New Goblin Stories 29
“Boss!”
It was late at night, and a warm breeze blew across the beach as Harry Silt turned to face the goblin running toward him. The red haired youth had changed in the last few months. He still had a slender build and needed glasses, but these days he wore alligator skin boots and bracers, black pants and a gray shirt. His staff now included vampire fangs worked into the wood, not just a trophy of his victories but an important magical component strengthening his spells. And he had a hat. The goblins had insisted he needed one, and they’d even collected materials to make the black fedora with more vampire fangs in the band.
More importantly, he’d changed as a man. The desire for advancement in the Archivists, and he was honest enough to admit his selfishness, was gone, replaced with a love and devotion to his followers. Harry had grown up in a safe community, attended safe schools and been totally safe working as a minor Archivist.
He’d never noticed the suffering, the injustices, the hardships that so many others endured.
He’d never experienced them personally or seen anyone else do so. He’d seen such pain and wrongdoings in his time among the goblins. So many good people working themselves to exhaustion for the right to live another day, praying that monsters and villains wouldn’t notice them.
He’d felt such shame while recovering from his first battle with a vampire. So many people suffering while he’d only thought about himself. And in that dark time he’d come to accept the role the goblins had asked him to take. Harry Silt the Archivist, the petty man, was gone. Harry Silt the Evil Overlord took his place, and the world was better for it.
The goblin ran over to Harry and gave him a salute so vigorous the goblin hit himself in the head and fell over backwards. Harry helped the goblin up and brushed sand off him. “Boss, we’ve got a message for you by the beach. A magic message.”
“How do you know it’s magic?”
“Water bubbled up and turned into a mirror showing a dorky kid.” The goblin pointed to the beach, where goblins gathered around the flat plane of water showing a human wizard even younger than Harry. The goblin added, “He said he wants to talk to the Evil Overlord of Wandering Village, which is you, so I figured you should know about it.”
Harry frowned. He’d been expecting trouble ever since he’d accepted his new role. Were the Archivists trying to get him to come back into the fold? Possible, but they hadn’t sent anyone to look for him in months. The other wizard wasn’t dressed as an Archivist, either. Who wanted him?
“Call Vivian and Igor,” Harry ordered the goblin. The goblin saluted again, this time without knocking himself over. Harry headed through the Wandering Village toward the watery mirror on the beach. Whatever this was, he wanted as much help as he could get to deal with it.
The Wandering Village had grown considerably under his rule. The population had doubled as goblins gathered more of their kind to carry out his orders. He’d also picked up fifty human smugglers and their three barges. Those barges were moored nearby in a shallow bay, and the Wandering Village now had dozens of crude tents. Lastly an Igor had volunteered his services, and Vivian had come.
Vivian.
“My alpha!” Harry saw Vivian running across the beach. Her black satin dress fluttered as he caught up with him and wrapped an arm around his waist. She was incredible, young, strong, healthy, vivacious, and if you scratched below the surface so frightened. Her pack of werewolves had suffered brutal infighting that had forced the raven haired beauty to flee for her life. Goblins had found her alone and scared, and brought her to Harry in an act he could only call miraculous. “We are in danger?”
“Possibly. We’ll see what’s happening.”
The two walked together to the mirror. Goblins, men and giant tortoises followed the pair until they stopped at the mirror. Harry adjusted his glasses as he studied the young man with gray clothes and bad acne in the watery mirror.
“I understand you wish to talk with me,” Harry began.
“Hi, I’m Kadid Lan,” the other wizard replied. His voice sounded warped as it came through the water. “Uh, listen, I know we don’t know each other, but I need a huge favor and you’re the only man who can do it.”
“He honors you, my alpha,” Vivian said.
“We can’t pay you, but if you help it could save lots of people,” Kadid continued. “There are these papers plastered all over the place telling embarrassing facts or just outright lies.”
“I’m familiar with them,” Harry said drily.
“I recognize that voice!” An older man wearing blue and white robes pushed Kadid aside and stood in front of the mirror. “Oh for the love of all that’s holy! Are all the junior Archivists going rogue?”
Harry’s jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered from the shock. “Master Archibald Scrace. I’m curious what it took to get you out of your office.”
“That’s all you have to say? You were sent to find the Dawn Lantern, and now I find you leading a band of miscreants!”
“Hey, we’re miscreants!” a goblin shouted. “Last spring we were just deadbeats and losers!”
“Hurray!” the goblins cheered.
“It’s hard to explain,” Harry said. “Your friend made it sound like you needed an evil overlord, not the man I used to be. What’s this have to do with those papers, and what did you mean by Archivists going rogue?”
“Those papers were written by Archivists who left our order,” Archibald said. “They were infiltrated by a man named Gron who used them to publish damaging lies. This villain is currently near you but will surely leave at the first opportunity. No one else is close enough to stop him. I am asking you to catch Gron before more harm is done.”
“How dangerous is this man?” Harry asked.
“He’s a skilled warrior and clever. He also has several former Archivists with him, one of whom is a wizard of middling abilities. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t believe his lies. Can we count on you?”
Harry’s followers watched him with eager eyes, some even drooling at the prospect of action. He said, “Those idiots nearly cost me my life.”
“You’re not alone in that,” Kadid said.
“I need a better idea where to look,” Harry said.
Archibald nudged Kadid back and said, “Gron was detected by a magic mirror twenty minutes ago in a town called Hogshead. That’s as close as we were able to get.”
A smuggler said, “Hogshead is thirty miles away. We’d need six hours to reach it by boat and a day on foot.”
“Or thirty minutes by air,” Harry replied.
“Your magic clouds aren’t that big,” the smuggler cautioned. “You won’t be able to take many of us, and this could be dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous, too,” Vivian retorted.
“No promises, but we’ll try,” Harry told Archibald. “Where do we deliver them if we catch them?”
“Sunset City in Oceanview Kingdom,” Archibald replied as the watery mirror dissolved back into the ocean. Before it was completely gone, Archibald added, “I wish you luck. Know that many depend on your success.”
“Time to go hunting,” Harry said. Vivian squealed in delight and the goblins cheered. He waved for them to quiet down and called out, “Igor!”
“Here, sir.” Harry frowned as Igor ran over. He was a trustworthy man and had done much for Harry, but he was, well, odd. Tall, handsome, blonde hair, perfect teeth, he didn’t look like an Igor. The perfectly tailored suit also defied expectations.
“I know I keep asking, but you’re sure you’re an Igor?” Harry asked. “Not a Chad? Or a Chet?”
Igor was momentarily crestfallen. “I know, I was born tragically normal. But deep down I am a small, misshapen man ready to say the wrong thing at the worst time.”
Harry shook his head. “Forget I asked. You and the Wise Old Fraud are in charge until I return. I need our next batch of heal fast potions brewed and ready to go by morning and check the herb gardens. I need a steady supply of ingredients for more potions.”
Those potions were Harry’s biggest advantage. He and Igor had built a small, crude distillery for making healing potions. He’d won a lot of fights by being able to heal his followers and made lots of friends by giving potions to those in need. Selling the few he didn’t use or give away kept his group in the black.
The Wise Old Fraud, a green goblin wearing long robes, waved his staff and said, “You can probably count on us. There may be mistakes, omissions and the occasional explosion.”
“That’s expected.” Harry waved his own staff as he cast a spell to create a magic cloud in front of him. Harry hadn’t learned any new spells since becoming an evil overlord, but he’d gotten far better at using the spells he already knew. He’d practiced more than he once had, and he’d made simple magic items like his hat and improved his staff to bolster his power. It was enough to make his magic cloud thirty feet across and strong enough to carry tons.
“Everybody on board!” a goblin screamed. Dozens of them piled on along with five smugglers who’d proven themselves in battle. Harry stepped on next with Vivian. She stayed close to him as the cloud rose into the air and shot across the sky. The smugglers kept well away from the edges of the cloud, no doubt worried about falling. The goblins weren’t worried at all and howled in delight as they sailed over trees and rooftops.
“Top of the world, ma!” a goblin yelled.
“I’m flying, Jack!” shouted a second. That was goblins in a nutshell. But they weren’t the only ones talking. Vivian clung tightly to Harry and whispered to herself.
“My alpha won’t cast me out. My alpha won’t abandon me. My alpha won’t cast me out.”
This had happened before. Werewolves were pack animals and terrified of being alone. Vivian had been quivering when he’d first seen her and needed weeks to open up to him. When she was stressed, even for good reasons like hunting, she’d repeat those words so softly she thought no one would hear her. Harry heard. He wondered what he could do to heal those wounds.
Mile after mile flew by as they sailed across the sky. Even the light of a full moon offered little illumination, but Harry had no trouble seeing the cluster of lights from Hogshead. Human towns always kept lanterns and torches lit in case of an attack by bandits, pirates and monsters. Their king should be protecting them, but his forces were too busy threatening neighboring kings. Harry and his small army had saved Hogshead once before and nearby villages many times, which ironically made the king hate and fear Harry. Apparently gratitude was not an option.
“Hogshead dead ahead!” a goblin yelled.
“Indoor voices, everyone,” Harry told his followers. “I don’t want them to know we’re coming.”
“Shh,” one goblin told another. Goblins shushed each other, making nearly as much noise as when they’d been yelling. Harry lowered the cloud to street level at the edge of the city and dissolved it to release his followers. Harry cast a locating spell, but the glowing arrow spun wildly. That wasn’t surprising. Master Archibald was a much more powerful wizard than Harry. If his magic hadn’t succeeded, Harry’s wouldn’t, either. But it was worth trying, and he still had an advantage Archibald didn’t.
“It’s a big city to find a handful of men,” a smuggler said.
“I’ve got a plan,” Harry told him. “These idiots leave their papers whenever they go. Spread out and find me one.”
Goblins and smugglers hurried across cobblestone streets and between wood houses. Most of Hogshead’s people were indoors and sleep, but a few people saw Harry and his followers. It pleased Harry that they nodded or even saluted rather than call for the guard.
It only took minutes before a goblin came back and reported, “Found one, boss. It’s glued to the side of a wagon.”
“Take me to it,” he replied. The goblin led him and the rest of his forced came with. They saw a wagon parked on a street with a paper pasted to one side. Harry cast a spell to produce a pale light, just enough to read the message.
‘No secrets! Your leaders are hiding the truth from you! The evil overlord Harry Silt has allied with wicked smugglers. He sells counterfeit heal fast potions that kill those who drink them.’
An indigent goblin struck a hand across his chest. “They’re talking trash about our evil overlord!”
“No one insults my alpha!” Vivian screamed. She tried to tear off the paper, and looked shocked when Harry held her back.
“Vivian, that paper must have been put up recently,” he said. “Can you get the scent of who placed it there?”
Vivian gave him a thoughtful look. “Maybe. I need to change.”
She walked into a nearby alley. Harry looked up and said, “Lovely stars tonight.”
Every goblin and smuggler gazed up far from Vivian. A smuggler said, “Oh gosh yes.”
“Absolutely beautiful,” a goblin added. “Sorry we haven’t found you more followers, boss. The Dread Evil Overlord Joshua and that Umber Hatchwich guy have been soaking up all the local talent.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied.
“We did hear back from a guy you might want,” the goblin continued. “He calls himself the Enigmatic Eye. No references, no work history, and he’s got this persistent smell I can’t identify, but I got a really good feeling about him.”
Seconds later Vivian came back in her werewolf form. She was sleek and beautiful, nearly as tall as Harry and covered with lustrous black fur. Her claws could tear a man apart, her jaws could break cattle bones and she was fast as a racehorse. Vivian handed a smuggler her clothes before she approached the paper and sniffed it, running her nose up and down the libelous document.
“We just bring in food,” a smuggler said. “Good folks would starve if we didn’t. Not our fault taxes are so high we have to do it quietly.”
“And the elven wine, well, everybody needs a good drink,” another smuggler added. “Not like we’re transporting slaves or poisons.”
“I have it,” Vivian growled. She stepped away from the paper and shredded it with her claws. “Gron can hide with magic, but not from me.”
“I want these men alive to answer questions,” Harry told his friends.
“They’ll live,” a goblin promised. “They just won’t be happy.”
Vivian led them through the twisting streets of Hogshead. Like most human cities it had expanded over the centuries with no plan, making it a maze of roads hard for anyone but a native to travel without getting lost. They came across more papers pasted to houses, shops and a church. Vivian sniffed them as well before tearing up the papers. They walked the streets of Hogshead for hours with Vivian on all fours sniffing the ground. Then she stopped and pointed at a stable.
“There. The scent is strong.”
“Are they still inside?” Harry asked.
Vivian’s ears twitched. “Yes. Four men, one of them older.”
“Cover all the exits,” Harry ordered. Goblins and smugglers surrounded the stable and drew their weapons. Harry considered his options and opted for overwhelming violence. Shocking how good he was getting at that.
Harry cast a spell to form a magic cloud and sent it across the street. It scooped up dirt, rocks, trash and a broken wheelbarrow, forming a mound of garbage weighing five hundred pounds. He then sped up the cloud and rammed it into the stable doors, knocking them off their hinges and terrifying the black clad men hiding inside. They’d been packing their bags, and had brushes and empty buckets stained with paste.
“You can come quietly or you can be carried out on stretchers,” he told the Truth Seekers. “Either way works for me.”
One of them yelled, “Run for it!”
Harry scowled. “Stretchers it is.”
The Truth Seekers charged Harry with drawn daggers. One cast a spell to form an icy knife and threw it at Harry. Harry caused the magic cloud to rise and let the icy knife hit the pile of garbage on it. Two Truth Seekers went left and another right while their wizard tried to cast another spell.
Harry charged the enemy wizard. He knew a lot about magic, including how long it took to cast spells. Combat spells didn’t take long, but the slightest blow could ruin the caster’s concentration and end the spell. Harry ran in and swung his staff, striking the rival wizard in the shin.
“Son of a—” the Truth Seeker screamed, but his no doubt obscenity laced tirade ended when two smugglers tackled him and pulled him to the ground.
A second Truth Seeker pulled a glass vial from a belt pouch and hurled it to the ground. The vial burst into a cloud of fire blocking goblins and smugglers trying to chase him. Harry caused his magic cloud to rise up and float over the fire, then vanish. The dirt and refuse carried fell onto the fire and snuffed it out.
“Next time drop it on the guy,” a goblin said.
“We need him alive,” Harry said.
“He can be alive with broken legs,” a smuggler countered.
The Truth Seeker ran for his life, throwing alchemic firebombs with wild abandon to cover his escape. Two bombs ignited a wood house, forcing three smugglers to stop and put out the fire before it spread. That Truth Seeker nearly escaped before Vivian ran down the street, leaped over the fires and landed on his shoulders with her feet. That knocked him to the ground and set off two firebombs in his belt. He screamed in terror as Vivian ripped off his belt and threw it away, then grabbed the man, lifted him over her head and dunked him into a horse trough to put out his burning clothes.
The last two Truth Seekers were trying to break through a mob of goblins blocking their way. They kicked and punched goblins, but a goblin managed to grab one of them. Three more followed, dragging their enemy to a halt and then tipping him over.
“Gron, don’t let them take me alive!” the downed Truth Seeker cried out.
Harry reformed his magic cloud, jumped onto it and soared after the men. “Ah, you’re the man I’m after.”
Gron saw him coming and swung a short sword. Harry blocked it with his staff and swung at Gron’s Legs. Old he might be, but Gron had the reflexes and training of a professional soldier and dodged the attack. He also kicked aside a goblin trying to pounce on him. Gron jumped onto the magic cloud and raised his sword to strike Harry. Harry dispelled the magic cloud, dropping both himself and Gron only a few inches back to the street. It was enough to throw off Gron’s balance and he staggered back. Harry tripped Gron with his staff and let the goblins pile on his fallen enemy.
“You’ve made powerful enemies,” Harry told Gron. “Be grateful they want you in a condition where you can answer questions. I’m half tempted to let the other three go, but setting fires in a city annoys me.”
One of the other Truth Seekers squinted at Harry. “Wait, Harry? It is you!”
“Yeah, it’s me, the guy you said kills people with fake heal fast potions.”
Three Truth Seekers looked shocked by his words. One said, “But you do. We verified it.”
Vivian dragged back the man she’d both defeated and saved. She dropped him at Harry’s feet and said, “Speak another lie against my alpha and we’ll hand over three men and one body.”
Harry pulled off Gron’s mask and looked him in the eyes. Gron was in his fifties but in excellent health, barely showing gray in his hair and few wrinkles. The older man scowled and said, “We’ll die, but you’ll join us soon.”
“I’m going to give one of my very real and effective heal fast potions to your friend whose massive stupidity set himself on fire,” Harry said. “Then I’m taking you all to Oceanview Kingdom, where very angry people are going to ask you lots of questions. One of them is Archibald Scrace, so get ready for the Archivists’ personal brand of retribution.”
“No!” Gron screamed as he broke free of the goblins holding him. He drew a dagger from a belt sheath and lunged at Harry. Harry raised his staff to block it when Vivian threw herself between the men and took the hit to her chest. Goblins cried out in terror. Smugglers swore.
Vivian slapped Gron across the face so hard the older man was thrown to the ground, where she then kicked him three feet into the air. She grabbed him and lifted him up even with where the dagger had hit her and done absolutely nothing.
“Next time use silver,” she growled. “My alpha, how alive do you want him?”
It was late at night, and a warm breeze blew across the beach as Harry Silt turned to face the goblin running toward him. The red haired youth had changed in the last few months. He still had a slender build and needed glasses, but these days he wore alligator skin boots and bracers, black pants and a gray shirt. His staff now included vampire fangs worked into the wood, not just a trophy of his victories but an important magical component strengthening his spells. And he had a hat. The goblins had insisted he needed one, and they’d even collected materials to make the black fedora with more vampire fangs in the band.
More importantly, he’d changed as a man. The desire for advancement in the Archivists, and he was honest enough to admit his selfishness, was gone, replaced with a love and devotion to his followers. Harry had grown up in a safe community, attended safe schools and been totally safe working as a minor Archivist.
He’d never noticed the suffering, the injustices, the hardships that so many others endured.
He’d never experienced them personally or seen anyone else do so. He’d seen such pain and wrongdoings in his time among the goblins. So many good people working themselves to exhaustion for the right to live another day, praying that monsters and villains wouldn’t notice them.
He’d felt such shame while recovering from his first battle with a vampire. So many people suffering while he’d only thought about himself. And in that dark time he’d come to accept the role the goblins had asked him to take. Harry Silt the Archivist, the petty man, was gone. Harry Silt the Evil Overlord took his place, and the world was better for it.
The goblin ran over to Harry and gave him a salute so vigorous the goblin hit himself in the head and fell over backwards. Harry helped the goblin up and brushed sand off him. “Boss, we’ve got a message for you by the beach. A magic message.”
“How do you know it’s magic?”
“Water bubbled up and turned into a mirror showing a dorky kid.” The goblin pointed to the beach, where goblins gathered around the flat plane of water showing a human wizard even younger than Harry. The goblin added, “He said he wants to talk to the Evil Overlord of Wandering Village, which is you, so I figured you should know about it.”
Harry frowned. He’d been expecting trouble ever since he’d accepted his new role. Were the Archivists trying to get him to come back into the fold? Possible, but they hadn’t sent anyone to look for him in months. The other wizard wasn’t dressed as an Archivist, either. Who wanted him?
“Call Vivian and Igor,” Harry ordered the goblin. The goblin saluted again, this time without knocking himself over. Harry headed through the Wandering Village toward the watery mirror on the beach. Whatever this was, he wanted as much help as he could get to deal with it.
The Wandering Village had grown considerably under his rule. The population had doubled as goblins gathered more of their kind to carry out his orders. He’d also picked up fifty human smugglers and their three barges. Those barges were moored nearby in a shallow bay, and the Wandering Village now had dozens of crude tents. Lastly an Igor had volunteered his services, and Vivian had come.
Vivian.
“My alpha!” Harry saw Vivian running across the beach. Her black satin dress fluttered as he caught up with him and wrapped an arm around his waist. She was incredible, young, strong, healthy, vivacious, and if you scratched below the surface so frightened. Her pack of werewolves had suffered brutal infighting that had forced the raven haired beauty to flee for her life. Goblins had found her alone and scared, and brought her to Harry in an act he could only call miraculous. “We are in danger?”
“Possibly. We’ll see what’s happening.”
The two walked together to the mirror. Goblins, men and giant tortoises followed the pair until they stopped at the mirror. Harry adjusted his glasses as he studied the young man with gray clothes and bad acne in the watery mirror.
“I understand you wish to talk with me,” Harry began.
“Hi, I’m Kadid Lan,” the other wizard replied. His voice sounded warped as it came through the water. “Uh, listen, I know we don’t know each other, but I need a huge favor and you’re the only man who can do it.”
“He honors you, my alpha,” Vivian said.
“We can’t pay you, but if you help it could save lots of people,” Kadid continued. “There are these papers plastered all over the place telling embarrassing facts or just outright lies.”
“I’m familiar with them,” Harry said drily.
“I recognize that voice!” An older man wearing blue and white robes pushed Kadid aside and stood in front of the mirror. “Oh for the love of all that’s holy! Are all the junior Archivists going rogue?”
Harry’s jaw dropped, but he quickly recovered from the shock. “Master Archibald Scrace. I’m curious what it took to get you out of your office.”
“That’s all you have to say? You were sent to find the Dawn Lantern, and now I find you leading a band of miscreants!”
“Hey, we’re miscreants!” a goblin shouted. “Last spring we were just deadbeats and losers!”
“Hurray!” the goblins cheered.
“It’s hard to explain,” Harry said. “Your friend made it sound like you needed an evil overlord, not the man I used to be. What’s this have to do with those papers, and what did you mean by Archivists going rogue?”
“Those papers were written by Archivists who left our order,” Archibald said. “They were infiltrated by a man named Gron who used them to publish damaging lies. This villain is currently near you but will surely leave at the first opportunity. No one else is close enough to stop him. I am asking you to catch Gron before more harm is done.”
“How dangerous is this man?” Harry asked.
“He’s a skilled warrior and clever. He also has several former Archivists with him, one of whom is a wizard of middling abilities. Don’t underestimate him, and don’t believe his lies. Can we count on you?”
Harry’s followers watched him with eager eyes, some even drooling at the prospect of action. He said, “Those idiots nearly cost me my life.”
“You’re not alone in that,” Kadid said.
“I need a better idea where to look,” Harry said.
Archibald nudged Kadid back and said, “Gron was detected by a magic mirror twenty minutes ago in a town called Hogshead. That’s as close as we were able to get.”
A smuggler said, “Hogshead is thirty miles away. We’d need six hours to reach it by boat and a day on foot.”
“Or thirty minutes by air,” Harry replied.
“Your magic clouds aren’t that big,” the smuggler cautioned. “You won’t be able to take many of us, and this could be dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous, too,” Vivian retorted.
“No promises, but we’ll try,” Harry told Archibald. “Where do we deliver them if we catch them?”
“Sunset City in Oceanview Kingdom,” Archibald replied as the watery mirror dissolved back into the ocean. Before it was completely gone, Archibald added, “I wish you luck. Know that many depend on your success.”
“Time to go hunting,” Harry said. Vivian squealed in delight and the goblins cheered. He waved for them to quiet down and called out, “Igor!”
“Here, sir.” Harry frowned as Igor ran over. He was a trustworthy man and had done much for Harry, but he was, well, odd. Tall, handsome, blonde hair, perfect teeth, he didn’t look like an Igor. The perfectly tailored suit also defied expectations.
“I know I keep asking, but you’re sure you’re an Igor?” Harry asked. “Not a Chad? Or a Chet?”
Igor was momentarily crestfallen. “I know, I was born tragically normal. But deep down I am a small, misshapen man ready to say the wrong thing at the worst time.”
Harry shook his head. “Forget I asked. You and the Wise Old Fraud are in charge until I return. I need our next batch of heal fast potions brewed and ready to go by morning and check the herb gardens. I need a steady supply of ingredients for more potions.”
Those potions were Harry’s biggest advantage. He and Igor had built a small, crude distillery for making healing potions. He’d won a lot of fights by being able to heal his followers and made lots of friends by giving potions to those in need. Selling the few he didn’t use or give away kept his group in the black.
The Wise Old Fraud, a green goblin wearing long robes, waved his staff and said, “You can probably count on us. There may be mistakes, omissions and the occasional explosion.”
“That’s expected.” Harry waved his own staff as he cast a spell to create a magic cloud in front of him. Harry hadn’t learned any new spells since becoming an evil overlord, but he’d gotten far better at using the spells he already knew. He’d practiced more than he once had, and he’d made simple magic items like his hat and improved his staff to bolster his power. It was enough to make his magic cloud thirty feet across and strong enough to carry tons.
“Everybody on board!” a goblin screamed. Dozens of them piled on along with five smugglers who’d proven themselves in battle. Harry stepped on next with Vivian. She stayed close to him as the cloud rose into the air and shot across the sky. The smugglers kept well away from the edges of the cloud, no doubt worried about falling. The goblins weren’t worried at all and howled in delight as they sailed over trees and rooftops.
“Top of the world, ma!” a goblin yelled.
“I’m flying, Jack!” shouted a second. That was goblins in a nutshell. But they weren’t the only ones talking. Vivian clung tightly to Harry and whispered to herself.
“My alpha won’t cast me out. My alpha won’t abandon me. My alpha won’t cast me out.”
This had happened before. Werewolves were pack animals and terrified of being alone. Vivian had been quivering when he’d first seen her and needed weeks to open up to him. When she was stressed, even for good reasons like hunting, she’d repeat those words so softly she thought no one would hear her. Harry heard. He wondered what he could do to heal those wounds.
Mile after mile flew by as they sailed across the sky. Even the light of a full moon offered little illumination, but Harry had no trouble seeing the cluster of lights from Hogshead. Human towns always kept lanterns and torches lit in case of an attack by bandits, pirates and monsters. Their king should be protecting them, but his forces were too busy threatening neighboring kings. Harry and his small army had saved Hogshead once before and nearby villages many times, which ironically made the king hate and fear Harry. Apparently gratitude was not an option.
“Hogshead dead ahead!” a goblin yelled.
“Indoor voices, everyone,” Harry told his followers. “I don’t want them to know we’re coming.”
“Shh,” one goblin told another. Goblins shushed each other, making nearly as much noise as when they’d been yelling. Harry lowered the cloud to street level at the edge of the city and dissolved it to release his followers. Harry cast a locating spell, but the glowing arrow spun wildly. That wasn’t surprising. Master Archibald was a much more powerful wizard than Harry. If his magic hadn’t succeeded, Harry’s wouldn’t, either. But it was worth trying, and he still had an advantage Archibald didn’t.
“It’s a big city to find a handful of men,” a smuggler said.
“I’ve got a plan,” Harry told him. “These idiots leave their papers whenever they go. Spread out and find me one.”
Goblins and smugglers hurried across cobblestone streets and between wood houses. Most of Hogshead’s people were indoors and sleep, but a few people saw Harry and his followers. It pleased Harry that they nodded or even saluted rather than call for the guard.
It only took minutes before a goblin came back and reported, “Found one, boss. It’s glued to the side of a wagon.”
“Take me to it,” he replied. The goblin led him and the rest of his forced came with. They saw a wagon parked on a street with a paper pasted to one side. Harry cast a spell to produce a pale light, just enough to read the message.
‘No secrets! Your leaders are hiding the truth from you! The evil overlord Harry Silt has allied with wicked smugglers. He sells counterfeit heal fast potions that kill those who drink them.’
An indigent goblin struck a hand across his chest. “They’re talking trash about our evil overlord!”
“No one insults my alpha!” Vivian screamed. She tried to tear off the paper, and looked shocked when Harry held her back.
“Vivian, that paper must have been put up recently,” he said. “Can you get the scent of who placed it there?”
Vivian gave him a thoughtful look. “Maybe. I need to change.”
She walked into a nearby alley. Harry looked up and said, “Lovely stars tonight.”
Every goblin and smuggler gazed up far from Vivian. A smuggler said, “Oh gosh yes.”
“Absolutely beautiful,” a goblin added. “Sorry we haven’t found you more followers, boss. The Dread Evil Overlord Joshua and that Umber Hatchwich guy have been soaking up all the local talent.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied.
“We did hear back from a guy you might want,” the goblin continued. “He calls himself the Enigmatic Eye. No references, no work history, and he’s got this persistent smell I can’t identify, but I got a really good feeling about him.”
Seconds later Vivian came back in her werewolf form. She was sleek and beautiful, nearly as tall as Harry and covered with lustrous black fur. Her claws could tear a man apart, her jaws could break cattle bones and she was fast as a racehorse. Vivian handed a smuggler her clothes before she approached the paper and sniffed it, running her nose up and down the libelous document.
“We just bring in food,” a smuggler said. “Good folks would starve if we didn’t. Not our fault taxes are so high we have to do it quietly.”
“And the elven wine, well, everybody needs a good drink,” another smuggler added. “Not like we’re transporting slaves or poisons.”
“I have it,” Vivian growled. She stepped away from the paper and shredded it with her claws. “Gron can hide with magic, but not from me.”
“I want these men alive to answer questions,” Harry told his friends.
“They’ll live,” a goblin promised. “They just won’t be happy.”
Vivian led them through the twisting streets of Hogshead. Like most human cities it had expanded over the centuries with no plan, making it a maze of roads hard for anyone but a native to travel without getting lost. They came across more papers pasted to houses, shops and a church. Vivian sniffed them as well before tearing up the papers. They walked the streets of Hogshead for hours with Vivian on all fours sniffing the ground. Then she stopped and pointed at a stable.
“There. The scent is strong.”
“Are they still inside?” Harry asked.
Vivian’s ears twitched. “Yes. Four men, one of them older.”
“Cover all the exits,” Harry ordered. Goblins and smugglers surrounded the stable and drew their weapons. Harry considered his options and opted for overwhelming violence. Shocking how good he was getting at that.
Harry cast a spell to form a magic cloud and sent it across the street. It scooped up dirt, rocks, trash and a broken wheelbarrow, forming a mound of garbage weighing five hundred pounds. He then sped up the cloud and rammed it into the stable doors, knocking them off their hinges and terrifying the black clad men hiding inside. They’d been packing their bags, and had brushes and empty buckets stained with paste.
“You can come quietly or you can be carried out on stretchers,” he told the Truth Seekers. “Either way works for me.”
One of them yelled, “Run for it!”
Harry scowled. “Stretchers it is.”
The Truth Seekers charged Harry with drawn daggers. One cast a spell to form an icy knife and threw it at Harry. Harry caused the magic cloud to rise and let the icy knife hit the pile of garbage on it. Two Truth Seekers went left and another right while their wizard tried to cast another spell.
Harry charged the enemy wizard. He knew a lot about magic, including how long it took to cast spells. Combat spells didn’t take long, but the slightest blow could ruin the caster’s concentration and end the spell. Harry ran in and swung his staff, striking the rival wizard in the shin.
“Son of a—” the Truth Seeker screamed, but his no doubt obscenity laced tirade ended when two smugglers tackled him and pulled him to the ground.
A second Truth Seeker pulled a glass vial from a belt pouch and hurled it to the ground. The vial burst into a cloud of fire blocking goblins and smugglers trying to chase him. Harry caused his magic cloud to rise up and float over the fire, then vanish. The dirt and refuse carried fell onto the fire and snuffed it out.
“Next time drop it on the guy,” a goblin said.
“We need him alive,” Harry said.
“He can be alive with broken legs,” a smuggler countered.
The Truth Seeker ran for his life, throwing alchemic firebombs with wild abandon to cover his escape. Two bombs ignited a wood house, forcing three smugglers to stop and put out the fire before it spread. That Truth Seeker nearly escaped before Vivian ran down the street, leaped over the fires and landed on his shoulders with her feet. That knocked him to the ground and set off two firebombs in his belt. He screamed in terror as Vivian ripped off his belt and threw it away, then grabbed the man, lifted him over her head and dunked him into a horse trough to put out his burning clothes.
The last two Truth Seekers were trying to break through a mob of goblins blocking their way. They kicked and punched goblins, but a goblin managed to grab one of them. Three more followed, dragging their enemy to a halt and then tipping him over.
“Gron, don’t let them take me alive!” the downed Truth Seeker cried out.
Harry reformed his magic cloud, jumped onto it and soared after the men. “Ah, you’re the man I’m after.”
Gron saw him coming and swung a short sword. Harry blocked it with his staff and swung at Gron’s Legs. Old he might be, but Gron had the reflexes and training of a professional soldier and dodged the attack. He also kicked aside a goblin trying to pounce on him. Gron jumped onto the magic cloud and raised his sword to strike Harry. Harry dispelled the magic cloud, dropping both himself and Gron only a few inches back to the street. It was enough to throw off Gron’s balance and he staggered back. Harry tripped Gron with his staff and let the goblins pile on his fallen enemy.
“You’ve made powerful enemies,” Harry told Gron. “Be grateful they want you in a condition where you can answer questions. I’m half tempted to let the other three go, but setting fires in a city annoys me.”
One of the other Truth Seekers squinted at Harry. “Wait, Harry? It is you!”
“Yeah, it’s me, the guy you said kills people with fake heal fast potions.”
Three Truth Seekers looked shocked by his words. One said, “But you do. We verified it.”
Vivian dragged back the man she’d both defeated and saved. She dropped him at Harry’s feet and said, “Speak another lie against my alpha and we’ll hand over three men and one body.”
Harry pulled off Gron’s mask and looked him in the eyes. Gron was in his fifties but in excellent health, barely showing gray in his hair and few wrinkles. The older man scowled and said, “We’ll die, but you’ll join us soon.”
“I’m going to give one of my very real and effective heal fast potions to your friend whose massive stupidity set himself on fire,” Harry said. “Then I’m taking you all to Oceanview Kingdom, where very angry people are going to ask you lots of questions. One of them is Archibald Scrace, so get ready for the Archivists’ personal brand of retribution.”
“No!” Gron screamed as he broke free of the goblins holding him. He drew a dagger from a belt sheath and lunged at Harry. Harry raised his staff to block it when Vivian threw herself between the men and took the hit to her chest. Goblins cried out in terror. Smugglers swore.
Vivian slapped Gron across the face so hard the older man was thrown to the ground, where she then kicked him three feet into the air. She grabbed him and lifted him up even with where the dagger had hit her and done absolutely nothing.
“Next time use silver,” she growled. “My alpha, how alive do you want him?”
November 22, 2024
New Goblin Stories 28
Brody woke the next morning on a bed of fresh straw in an empty shed. As a goblin he could sleep almost anywhere, but the bed was a nice gesture. He sat up and saw the neighboring pile of straw was empty. Julius must already be up. Officials in Sunset City had offered him better accommodations but he’d declined and taken a space next to Brody. That was Julius in a nutshell. Brody ate some of the straw, for goblins weren’t any pickier about their diet than their sleeping arrangements, and headed outside.
The streets of Sunset City looked like an anthill that had been kicked over. Some residents were fleeing with whatever they could carry. That might seem like an extreme reaction, but the weak and lowly took no chances when wars could happen. Guardsmen led groups of citizens in a frantic but thorough search for the Dawn Lantern, going from house to house. This led to more than a few confrontations as the owners weren’t happy with strangers pawing through their property.
“I don’t have this thing!” a man protested as guardsmen filed into his home. “I’d sell it if I did! Say, what’s this thing worth, anyway?”
“Your life, and everyone else’s, too,” a guardsman replied.
Goblins joined the search, crawling through chimneys and splashing through sewers. This didn’t bother them, as goblins happily went through such filthy places on a daily basis. Digger goblins dug up every patch of dirt that didn’t have a tree or shrub growing on it. Builder goblins checked homes for secret doors and hidden compartments.
Brody peered down a sewer grate and saw Habbly lead goblins as they poked through the filth with wood poles. He asked, “Find anything?”
“Loose change and a carriage wheel,” Habbly replied. “There’s also a sewer monster with lots of legs and eyes. He said he hasn’t seen it.”
Brody spotted builder goblins leaving a house. The owner swept up after them and scowled.
Brody asked, “Have you had any luck?”
“We turned up a few smuggler tunnels but no lantern,” a builder goblin replied
Brody headed over to a nearby warehouse that had been empty the night before. He opened the door to find it as busy as a beehive. Men and goblins hurried about, walking around tables and empty crates used as chairs. Stacks of paper and bottles of blue ink competed with large maps for place on the tables. Kadid Lan was operating a cheap magic mirror with a copper frame in one corner. A vender slipped through the crowded room as he sold doughnuts and coffee to the men. Not surprisingly, Julius was at the center of the crowd.
“We’re sure about this?” Julius asked.
“No,” Kadid told him. “The reports came from terrified shepherds at night. They could be mistaken about what they saw, but if they’re right eighteen vampires are headed for Sunset City.”
“How long until they arrive?”
“Three days, maybe less,” Kadid replied. “I’ve also heard from guardsmen that the remaining Red Hand members are recruiting and plan on coming back. Not sure if they want your head or the Dawn Lantern. I also heard Lord Bryce hired every swordsman he could afford and is heading here from Nolod.”
“We’ll file the last one under annoyances.” Julius rubbed his forehead and spotted Brody. He waved for the little goblin to come over. “Have you heard anything from the goblins?”
Brody crawled under a table to reach him. “Nothing helpful. Little Old Dude, why aren’t you checking the sewers with your students?”
Little Old Dude was reading old Truth Seeker papers. “It’s a perk of leadership.”
Brody glared at those stupid papers that had turned everyone’s life upside down. As he thought about it, they represented a terrible waste. Most of them revealed embarrassing details about powerful people’s lives, but dig into anyone’s life and you’d find something embarrassing. Some were outright lies, ruining good reputations or even putting people in danger.
It was the ones revealing crimes that really bothered him. The crimes were real enough, but the papers warned criminals that they’d been discovered, giving them time to destroy evidence or run away. If those facts have been delivered to guardsmen, knights or the Guild of Heroes then they could have been the first step toward catching the bad guys. Anton might have wanted the best for the world, but he hadn’t thought this out far enough.
Brody got close to Julius and whispered, “You look worn out.”
Julius’ voice was equally soft. “These problems come so fast. Helping the baron, the Red Hand, the Truth Seekers, one after another.”
“When we’re done here, we need to get you a vacation.” Julius frowned at the offer. Brody said, “Much more of this and you’ll fall down before you can lie down.”
“I know.” He sounded so tired. Nobody could be a hero forever.
Little Old Dude asked, “Have there been any new papers this week?”
Officer Dalton came over with a handful of papers and set them on a table. “Too many and none of them good. Shep, no!”
Dalton’s dog Shep charged through the room and jumped onto Julius, knocking him onto a table. Dalton hurried over and scolded the dog. “You’re not a puppy anymore! Sit! Please sit!”
Julius wrapped his arms around the dog, lifted him up and carried him over to the latest papers. “The Truth Seekers just revealed the names and addresses of secret agents working for King Ethan Trecka of Forthosia. That puts a target on their heads. Or maybe this is a lie and they’re innocent people, in which case they’re civilians in a lot of danger. There’s something here about a new evil overlord with an entire village of goblins and a smuggler gang, with a lady werewolf as his chief enforcer and paramour.”
Brody frowned. “What’s a paramour?”
“That’s not the critical detail,” Julius said hastily. He glanced at the paper and said, “It says the evil overlord is a wizard and killed three vampires. Do we know if this one is true or not?”
Kadid Lan fiddled with knobs on the magic mirror. “I’ll look into it, but Oceanview’s king lent us a cheap mirror. We’re getting so much interference it’s hard to see anything with it. That could be because it’s garbage or someone could be trying to block us.”
“The Inspired?” Brody asked.
Archibald the Archivist stood up from a table he’d been sitting at. “If they were responsible the mirror would be a smoking wreck. I’ve cast warding spells to detect threats that come within five miles of the city, and defensive spells to block enemy attempts to search Sunset City with magic. If we can’t find the Dawn Lantern, neither can they.”
“Could they bring more wizards than Magus Quake?” Julius asked.
“Their numbers are depleted after numerous failures. Their remaining members are occupied, and many greatly mistrust their fellow wizards. If Magnus calls in powerful members of the Inspired, he risks them stealing his prize. Make no mistake, Magus Quake will return better prepared to face us, but I doubt he’ll have many reinforcements.”
Julius handed Shep back to Officer Dalton. “One’s too many. We’re looking at three or possibly four separate forces attacking Sunset City. One at a time we can win, but we’ll be stretched thin if they strike too close together. At least nearby kings aren’t invading. Yet.”
Brody spotted Ibwibble sitting at a table in a corner with Craig of the Truth Seekers. The goblin handed the man a stack of papers and said, “Write down that Ibwibble the Terrifying defeated the Truth Seekers, ending their reign of whatever it is you were trying to do.”
“That’s not technically true,” Craig said.
“You’re not still going on about that, are you?”
“Ibwibble, you made it sound like you got along well with the Dawn Lantern,” Brody told him. “Do you have any idea where we should look?”
“I haven’t seen him in months. He could be a million miles from here.”
Archibald frowned. “That might not be an exaggeration. Some of the so called big fifty are capable of moving great distances on their own.”
Julius was about to speak when the vendor walked up to him and asked, “Doughnuts?”
“Two, with sprinkles.” Julius paid the vendor and said, “Do we have solid leads on the remaining Truth Seekers?”
“One of them got arrested in Nolod,” Kadid Lan replied. “The rest are spreading lies as fast as they can.”
Julius glanced at Anton. The Truth Seekers leader still wore a prisoner’s pink uniform, but he wasn’t wearing iron gloves anymore. He sat in a corner copying page after page of writing. Anton looked up briefly and said, “I’m finishing an announcement to all Truth Seekers that we’ve been deceived and urging them to stop all activities. I’m appealing to them by name and have enough personal information about them that they’ll know I wrote it, but they might think I was forced to.”
“You’re not telling them to turn themselves in,” Brody said.
“They’re good people who were doing good work and don’t deserve to spend the rest of their lives in prison. It’s my fault we took in a liar, not theirs.”
“Fanatic,” Brody muttered under his breath.
“I heard that!” Julius scowled at Anton, who looked down. “They might ignore my message. They’ll definitely ignore it if I tell them to accept punishments for what weren’t crimes. I’ll help you stop this, I’ll take your punishment for failing my quest, but I won’t betray them.”
His earlier defiance returned, and Anton shouted, “And where is Oceanview’s king in this time of trouble? Why did he let a member of the Guild of Heroes do his job for him?”
Officer Dalton poked Anton in the chest. “He’s taken the greatest challenge on his own shoulders! The kingdom is in danger we might not be able to stop, so he’s gone to get help from lawyers!”
The clamor, conversations and bustle of so many people was replaced by a stunned silence. Men gasped in horror. Anton staggered back as if struck, his face as white as a sheet. Julius dropped one of his doughnuts, which Shep the dog ate.
“I nearly got killed by the Red Hand and Magus Quake because of those papers, and even I think that’s going too far,” Julius said.
“Eighty years of mischief and I never involved lawyers,” Little Old Dude add.
Officer Dalton nodded. “It’s drastic, and there’s no telling what it’s going to cost the king. But there’s nothing he won’t do for his people.”
Brody lost his patience with Anton. He pointed at Julius and said “He’s the best man for this job. I know it, the king knows it, and if you can pry your head out of your backside for a second, you’d know it, too. We’re all in danger cleaning up your mess.”
Everyone was shocked by his outburst, even Brody. The normally timid goblin had been pushed too far for too long, and his anger boiled over. “You remember a mad scientist named Umber Hatchwich? You told everyone in a thousand miles that he wants to take over the world. Bad people thought that was an advertisement! Thousands of villains who’d never heard of him before that day showed up to join him! He was a nobody with a few goons and now he’s got an army! We can’t try to stop them because we’re facing vampires, an evil wizard, gangsters and this Bryce twerp coming because of your stupid papers!”
There was a pause as Anton stared at Brody and everyone else looked away. Julius walked over and put a hand on Brody’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”
“I don’t suppose this Hatchwich fellow can help?” Officer Dalton asked.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Julius said. He waved to the vendor and asked, “Can I get another doughnut? Thanks. Our last problem is Gron. The Truth Seekers are still working, and if Gron is with them he’s controlling their messages. Do we have any idea where he is?”
“None,” Archibald replied. He took a cup of coffee from the vendor and added, “There are two logical choices for him. The first is to declare the task too dangerous and return to the Land of the Nine Dukes. If he doesn’t feel his mission is complete, he will join up with another cell of Truth Seekers both to direct their efforts and to benefit from their magical protection that makes them so hard to track.”
“We can’t look for him and the Dawn Lantern at the same time,” Brody said.
“We can’t, but others can,” Archibald told him. “We’ve warned neighboring kingdoms about the Truth Seekers and Gron. Most can’t send us help when they have so many responsibilities of their own, but they search their territory for Gron.”
* * * * *
The rest of the day was incredibly frustrating. Nobody found the Dawn Lantern, but there was a steady stream of frauds and liars trying to pass off fakes and demanding a reward. Most of those fakes were embarrassingly bad, including a cardboard lantern painted black. One ambitious fellow asked would he become king if he found the Dawn Lantern. He was upset when Julius told him it didn’t work that way even if a punk kid had become a king for yanking a magic sword out of a boulder.
It was getting dark when Brody went outside for fresh air. The streets of Sunset City were rivers of lights as men with ordinary lanterns continued searching for a magic one. Brody was about to get some sleep when he saw Archibald leaning against a building. The poor man looked miserable, no surprise when the Archivists had accidentally spawned this mess. Brody took a deep breath and approached him.
Archibald saw him coming and raised an eyebrow. “I must admit to having never studied goblin behavior. There are a few experts on that topic among the Archivists. What they’d told me is at odds with what I’ve seen these last few weeks. You show more intelligence and loyalty than many men I’ve met.”
“I hear that a lot. You also met Yips, so I guess it evens out.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. For all his faults, Yips has a good heart and nearly matches you in loyalty.” Archibald squinted at Brody. “Your expression makes me think you’re about to impress me again with your intelligence.”
“I have a question,” Brody asked. “Anton said the Archivists hide the things they learn about the past. You said it was a partial truth. Is he right? I mean, why go to all the effort of digging stuff up if you’re going to bury it again?”
Archibald looked off into the distance when he answered. “The Archivists were formed to unearth forgotten knowledge, magic and technology. We have members on four worlds who dedicated their lives to bring back the wonders of the past. We share much of what we’ve learned. Sometimes we hold onto our discoveries because we don’t fully understand them yet. In time we will learn more, and then we can share them.”
He turned and looked at Brody. “But what to do when the past wasn’t so wonderful. When it was a time of horror, darkness and suffering. Oh yes, we’ve discovered evidence of atrocities so foul no one should have committed them, yet they happened all the same. It is a sad testament that such deeds occurred even once, and a worse indictment that they could occur so often. You know, I actually envy goblins, for in our research we found only your kind innocent of these horrors.”
A shiver ran down Brody’s spine. “Why hide that? Doesn’t it make sense to tell people what happened so they don’t make the same mistakes?”
“I think you’re too innocent to understand the answer, but I’ll try. There are age old feuds between men, elves and dwarfs over crimes committed centuries ago. In some instances we learned exactly who perpetrated those crimes. The guilty parties and their victims are all long gone, but their descendants remain, and if they learned what we know those conflicts could reignite, spreading wars that would mimic those of old. We made a decision to conceal those facts, for to release them was too horrifying to contemplate.”
“Tell him the rest.” Archibald and Brody both spun around to find Julius standing behind them. When Archibald was silent, Julius said, “You left out the biggest threat.”
“You know why I don’t talk about that!” Archibald snapped.
“You can tell me,” Brody said. “If I tell anyone, they won’t believe me because I’m a goblin.”
Archibald fumed for a moment before he relented. “The city of Ephemera is a legend from the Ancient Elf Empire. Ephemera never existed. Every elf will tell you that. But we discovered fragmentary records from the empire where elves said they were passing through Ephemera or ordering goods from merchants living there. Yet there was no city, not even ruins.
“The Archivists deduced where Ephemera could have been and began digging. We asked the Guild of Heroes for help because elves have a habit of seizing control of archeological digs that might uncover elf artifacts. Julius was one of the members they sent. We dug down thirty feet in a desolate wilderness and discovered Ephemera’s suburbs, damaged marble buildings picked clean before they were buried. Then we discovered the actual city.”
Archibald hesitated. “Three miles of nothing, a perfect circle of devastation. Stone, metal and wood had been reduced to a thin layer of powder. I dared not ask what happened to the residents. Outside that circle were untouched houses. An inch one way meant survival and the other way meant doom. We, we learned how it had been done. It…would be possible to do again.”
“Y-you,” Brody stammered, “you know how to destroy an entire city?”
“The elves lost that knowledge in the aftermath of the civil war that destroyed their empire, but we suspect some of them know it happened. Elves seek to reconquer Other Place. Can you imagine what would happen if they relearned the skill? We buried the knowledge so deeply none would ever discover it. Most Archivists don’t even know about it. That is the weight the Archivists bear. That is what we hide from the world, secrets of that magnitude.”
“Secrets,” Brody repeated. “There are others as bad as that?”
“Many more are locked away and must never be freed.”
“Sir!” Brody, Julius and Archibald turned to see Kadid Lan waving from the entrance of their warehouse headquarters. “I found Gron!”
Archibald ran over and demanded, “Where is he?”
“He’s in the kingdom of Long Land. The spells masking him failed for a few minutes, long enough for me to get a lock on him. I think the wizard who’d protecting him must have forgotten the spell had run out and recast it too late. It was a faint image, but I’m sure it’s him.”
“That’s a long way from here,” Julius said. “Can we get there in time?”
Archibald frowned. “I used all my magic earlier today. Gron knows he’s being hunted and will surely flee before the morning when I have regained my strength.”
Kadid’s enthusiasm faded. “There’s someone who might help, sir, but you’re not going to like it.”
The streets of Sunset City looked like an anthill that had been kicked over. Some residents were fleeing with whatever they could carry. That might seem like an extreme reaction, but the weak and lowly took no chances when wars could happen. Guardsmen led groups of citizens in a frantic but thorough search for the Dawn Lantern, going from house to house. This led to more than a few confrontations as the owners weren’t happy with strangers pawing through their property.
“I don’t have this thing!” a man protested as guardsmen filed into his home. “I’d sell it if I did! Say, what’s this thing worth, anyway?”
“Your life, and everyone else’s, too,” a guardsman replied.
Goblins joined the search, crawling through chimneys and splashing through sewers. This didn’t bother them, as goblins happily went through such filthy places on a daily basis. Digger goblins dug up every patch of dirt that didn’t have a tree or shrub growing on it. Builder goblins checked homes for secret doors and hidden compartments.
Brody peered down a sewer grate and saw Habbly lead goblins as they poked through the filth with wood poles. He asked, “Find anything?”
“Loose change and a carriage wheel,” Habbly replied. “There’s also a sewer monster with lots of legs and eyes. He said he hasn’t seen it.”
Brody spotted builder goblins leaving a house. The owner swept up after them and scowled.
Brody asked, “Have you had any luck?”
“We turned up a few smuggler tunnels but no lantern,” a builder goblin replied
Brody headed over to a nearby warehouse that had been empty the night before. He opened the door to find it as busy as a beehive. Men and goblins hurried about, walking around tables and empty crates used as chairs. Stacks of paper and bottles of blue ink competed with large maps for place on the tables. Kadid Lan was operating a cheap magic mirror with a copper frame in one corner. A vender slipped through the crowded room as he sold doughnuts and coffee to the men. Not surprisingly, Julius was at the center of the crowd.
“We’re sure about this?” Julius asked.
“No,” Kadid told him. “The reports came from terrified shepherds at night. They could be mistaken about what they saw, but if they’re right eighteen vampires are headed for Sunset City.”
“How long until they arrive?”
“Three days, maybe less,” Kadid replied. “I’ve also heard from guardsmen that the remaining Red Hand members are recruiting and plan on coming back. Not sure if they want your head or the Dawn Lantern. I also heard Lord Bryce hired every swordsman he could afford and is heading here from Nolod.”
“We’ll file the last one under annoyances.” Julius rubbed his forehead and spotted Brody. He waved for the little goblin to come over. “Have you heard anything from the goblins?”
Brody crawled under a table to reach him. “Nothing helpful. Little Old Dude, why aren’t you checking the sewers with your students?”
Little Old Dude was reading old Truth Seeker papers. “It’s a perk of leadership.”
Brody glared at those stupid papers that had turned everyone’s life upside down. As he thought about it, they represented a terrible waste. Most of them revealed embarrassing details about powerful people’s lives, but dig into anyone’s life and you’d find something embarrassing. Some were outright lies, ruining good reputations or even putting people in danger.
It was the ones revealing crimes that really bothered him. The crimes were real enough, but the papers warned criminals that they’d been discovered, giving them time to destroy evidence or run away. If those facts have been delivered to guardsmen, knights or the Guild of Heroes then they could have been the first step toward catching the bad guys. Anton might have wanted the best for the world, but he hadn’t thought this out far enough.
Brody got close to Julius and whispered, “You look worn out.”
Julius’ voice was equally soft. “These problems come so fast. Helping the baron, the Red Hand, the Truth Seekers, one after another.”
“When we’re done here, we need to get you a vacation.” Julius frowned at the offer. Brody said, “Much more of this and you’ll fall down before you can lie down.”
“I know.” He sounded so tired. Nobody could be a hero forever.
Little Old Dude asked, “Have there been any new papers this week?”
Officer Dalton came over with a handful of papers and set them on a table. “Too many and none of them good. Shep, no!”
Dalton’s dog Shep charged through the room and jumped onto Julius, knocking him onto a table. Dalton hurried over and scolded the dog. “You’re not a puppy anymore! Sit! Please sit!”
Julius wrapped his arms around the dog, lifted him up and carried him over to the latest papers. “The Truth Seekers just revealed the names and addresses of secret agents working for King Ethan Trecka of Forthosia. That puts a target on their heads. Or maybe this is a lie and they’re innocent people, in which case they’re civilians in a lot of danger. There’s something here about a new evil overlord with an entire village of goblins and a smuggler gang, with a lady werewolf as his chief enforcer and paramour.”
Brody frowned. “What’s a paramour?”
“That’s not the critical detail,” Julius said hastily. He glanced at the paper and said, “It says the evil overlord is a wizard and killed three vampires. Do we know if this one is true or not?”
Kadid Lan fiddled with knobs on the magic mirror. “I’ll look into it, but Oceanview’s king lent us a cheap mirror. We’re getting so much interference it’s hard to see anything with it. That could be because it’s garbage or someone could be trying to block us.”
“The Inspired?” Brody asked.
Archibald the Archivist stood up from a table he’d been sitting at. “If they were responsible the mirror would be a smoking wreck. I’ve cast warding spells to detect threats that come within five miles of the city, and defensive spells to block enemy attempts to search Sunset City with magic. If we can’t find the Dawn Lantern, neither can they.”
“Could they bring more wizards than Magus Quake?” Julius asked.
“Their numbers are depleted after numerous failures. Their remaining members are occupied, and many greatly mistrust their fellow wizards. If Magnus calls in powerful members of the Inspired, he risks them stealing his prize. Make no mistake, Magus Quake will return better prepared to face us, but I doubt he’ll have many reinforcements.”
Julius handed Shep back to Officer Dalton. “One’s too many. We’re looking at three or possibly four separate forces attacking Sunset City. One at a time we can win, but we’ll be stretched thin if they strike too close together. At least nearby kings aren’t invading. Yet.”
Brody spotted Ibwibble sitting at a table in a corner with Craig of the Truth Seekers. The goblin handed the man a stack of papers and said, “Write down that Ibwibble the Terrifying defeated the Truth Seekers, ending their reign of whatever it is you were trying to do.”
“That’s not technically true,” Craig said.
“You’re not still going on about that, are you?”
“Ibwibble, you made it sound like you got along well with the Dawn Lantern,” Brody told him. “Do you have any idea where we should look?”
“I haven’t seen him in months. He could be a million miles from here.”
Archibald frowned. “That might not be an exaggeration. Some of the so called big fifty are capable of moving great distances on their own.”
Julius was about to speak when the vendor walked up to him and asked, “Doughnuts?”
“Two, with sprinkles.” Julius paid the vendor and said, “Do we have solid leads on the remaining Truth Seekers?”
“One of them got arrested in Nolod,” Kadid Lan replied. “The rest are spreading lies as fast as they can.”
Julius glanced at Anton. The Truth Seekers leader still wore a prisoner’s pink uniform, but he wasn’t wearing iron gloves anymore. He sat in a corner copying page after page of writing. Anton looked up briefly and said, “I’m finishing an announcement to all Truth Seekers that we’ve been deceived and urging them to stop all activities. I’m appealing to them by name and have enough personal information about them that they’ll know I wrote it, but they might think I was forced to.”
“You’re not telling them to turn themselves in,” Brody said.
“They’re good people who were doing good work and don’t deserve to spend the rest of their lives in prison. It’s my fault we took in a liar, not theirs.”
“Fanatic,” Brody muttered under his breath.
“I heard that!” Julius scowled at Anton, who looked down. “They might ignore my message. They’ll definitely ignore it if I tell them to accept punishments for what weren’t crimes. I’ll help you stop this, I’ll take your punishment for failing my quest, but I won’t betray them.”
His earlier defiance returned, and Anton shouted, “And where is Oceanview’s king in this time of trouble? Why did he let a member of the Guild of Heroes do his job for him?”
Officer Dalton poked Anton in the chest. “He’s taken the greatest challenge on his own shoulders! The kingdom is in danger we might not be able to stop, so he’s gone to get help from lawyers!”
The clamor, conversations and bustle of so many people was replaced by a stunned silence. Men gasped in horror. Anton staggered back as if struck, his face as white as a sheet. Julius dropped one of his doughnuts, which Shep the dog ate.
“I nearly got killed by the Red Hand and Magus Quake because of those papers, and even I think that’s going too far,” Julius said.
“Eighty years of mischief and I never involved lawyers,” Little Old Dude add.
Officer Dalton nodded. “It’s drastic, and there’s no telling what it’s going to cost the king. But there’s nothing he won’t do for his people.”
Brody lost his patience with Anton. He pointed at Julius and said “He’s the best man for this job. I know it, the king knows it, and if you can pry your head out of your backside for a second, you’d know it, too. We’re all in danger cleaning up your mess.”
Everyone was shocked by his outburst, even Brody. The normally timid goblin had been pushed too far for too long, and his anger boiled over. “You remember a mad scientist named Umber Hatchwich? You told everyone in a thousand miles that he wants to take over the world. Bad people thought that was an advertisement! Thousands of villains who’d never heard of him before that day showed up to join him! He was a nobody with a few goons and now he’s got an army! We can’t try to stop them because we’re facing vampires, an evil wizard, gangsters and this Bryce twerp coming because of your stupid papers!”
There was a pause as Anton stared at Brody and everyone else looked away. Julius walked over and put a hand on Brody’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. We always do.”
“I don’t suppose this Hatchwich fellow can help?” Officer Dalton asked.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Julius said. He waved to the vendor and asked, “Can I get another doughnut? Thanks. Our last problem is Gron. The Truth Seekers are still working, and if Gron is with them he’s controlling their messages. Do we have any idea where he is?”
“None,” Archibald replied. He took a cup of coffee from the vendor and added, “There are two logical choices for him. The first is to declare the task too dangerous and return to the Land of the Nine Dukes. If he doesn’t feel his mission is complete, he will join up with another cell of Truth Seekers both to direct their efforts and to benefit from their magical protection that makes them so hard to track.”
“We can’t look for him and the Dawn Lantern at the same time,” Brody said.
“We can’t, but others can,” Archibald told him. “We’ve warned neighboring kingdoms about the Truth Seekers and Gron. Most can’t send us help when they have so many responsibilities of their own, but they search their territory for Gron.”
* * * * *
The rest of the day was incredibly frustrating. Nobody found the Dawn Lantern, but there was a steady stream of frauds and liars trying to pass off fakes and demanding a reward. Most of those fakes were embarrassingly bad, including a cardboard lantern painted black. One ambitious fellow asked would he become king if he found the Dawn Lantern. He was upset when Julius told him it didn’t work that way even if a punk kid had become a king for yanking a magic sword out of a boulder.
It was getting dark when Brody went outside for fresh air. The streets of Sunset City were rivers of lights as men with ordinary lanterns continued searching for a magic one. Brody was about to get some sleep when he saw Archibald leaning against a building. The poor man looked miserable, no surprise when the Archivists had accidentally spawned this mess. Brody took a deep breath and approached him.
Archibald saw him coming and raised an eyebrow. “I must admit to having never studied goblin behavior. There are a few experts on that topic among the Archivists. What they’d told me is at odds with what I’ve seen these last few weeks. You show more intelligence and loyalty than many men I’ve met.”
“I hear that a lot. You also met Yips, so I guess it evens out.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. For all his faults, Yips has a good heart and nearly matches you in loyalty.” Archibald squinted at Brody. “Your expression makes me think you’re about to impress me again with your intelligence.”
“I have a question,” Brody asked. “Anton said the Archivists hide the things they learn about the past. You said it was a partial truth. Is he right? I mean, why go to all the effort of digging stuff up if you’re going to bury it again?”
Archibald looked off into the distance when he answered. “The Archivists were formed to unearth forgotten knowledge, magic and technology. We have members on four worlds who dedicated their lives to bring back the wonders of the past. We share much of what we’ve learned. Sometimes we hold onto our discoveries because we don’t fully understand them yet. In time we will learn more, and then we can share them.”
He turned and looked at Brody. “But what to do when the past wasn’t so wonderful. When it was a time of horror, darkness and suffering. Oh yes, we’ve discovered evidence of atrocities so foul no one should have committed them, yet they happened all the same. It is a sad testament that such deeds occurred even once, and a worse indictment that they could occur so often. You know, I actually envy goblins, for in our research we found only your kind innocent of these horrors.”
A shiver ran down Brody’s spine. “Why hide that? Doesn’t it make sense to tell people what happened so they don’t make the same mistakes?”
“I think you’re too innocent to understand the answer, but I’ll try. There are age old feuds between men, elves and dwarfs over crimes committed centuries ago. In some instances we learned exactly who perpetrated those crimes. The guilty parties and their victims are all long gone, but their descendants remain, and if they learned what we know those conflicts could reignite, spreading wars that would mimic those of old. We made a decision to conceal those facts, for to release them was too horrifying to contemplate.”
“Tell him the rest.” Archibald and Brody both spun around to find Julius standing behind them. When Archibald was silent, Julius said, “You left out the biggest threat.”
“You know why I don’t talk about that!” Archibald snapped.
“You can tell me,” Brody said. “If I tell anyone, they won’t believe me because I’m a goblin.”
Archibald fumed for a moment before he relented. “The city of Ephemera is a legend from the Ancient Elf Empire. Ephemera never existed. Every elf will tell you that. But we discovered fragmentary records from the empire where elves said they were passing through Ephemera or ordering goods from merchants living there. Yet there was no city, not even ruins.
“The Archivists deduced where Ephemera could have been and began digging. We asked the Guild of Heroes for help because elves have a habit of seizing control of archeological digs that might uncover elf artifacts. Julius was one of the members they sent. We dug down thirty feet in a desolate wilderness and discovered Ephemera’s suburbs, damaged marble buildings picked clean before they were buried. Then we discovered the actual city.”
Archibald hesitated. “Three miles of nothing, a perfect circle of devastation. Stone, metal and wood had been reduced to a thin layer of powder. I dared not ask what happened to the residents. Outside that circle were untouched houses. An inch one way meant survival and the other way meant doom. We, we learned how it had been done. It…would be possible to do again.”
“Y-you,” Brody stammered, “you know how to destroy an entire city?”
“The elves lost that knowledge in the aftermath of the civil war that destroyed their empire, but we suspect some of them know it happened. Elves seek to reconquer Other Place. Can you imagine what would happen if they relearned the skill? We buried the knowledge so deeply none would ever discover it. Most Archivists don’t even know about it. That is the weight the Archivists bear. That is what we hide from the world, secrets of that magnitude.”
“Secrets,” Brody repeated. “There are others as bad as that?”
“Many more are locked away and must never be freed.”
“Sir!” Brody, Julius and Archibald turned to see Kadid Lan waving from the entrance of their warehouse headquarters. “I found Gron!”
Archibald ran over and demanded, “Where is he?”
“He’s in the kingdom of Long Land. The spells masking him failed for a few minutes, long enough for me to get a lock on him. I think the wizard who’d protecting him must have forgotten the spell had run out and recast it too late. It was a faint image, but I’m sure it’s him.”
“That’s a long way from here,” Julius said. “Can we get there in time?”
Archibald frowned. “I used all my magic earlier today. Gron knows he’s being hunted and will surely flee before the morning when I have regained my strength.”
Kadid’s enthusiasm faded. “There’s someone who might help, sir, but you’re not going to like it.”
November 13, 2024
New Goblin Stories 27
Sunset City’s jail was filled beyond capacity with members of the Red Hand, forcing Julius and Archibald the Archivist to place their captives in the jail’s breakroom and two broom closets. Normally losing their breakroom would be the cause of great angry among hardworking guardsmen, but Julius had found a way around the problem.
“How much does that rental house for the guards cost you?” Brody asked Julius.
“Five guilders a week rent and another three guilders for snacks. I also borrowed two dart boards and reading material that isn’t fifteen years out of date.”
Ibwibble held up a magazine older than he was and asked, “Does that mean starlet Jenny Starbrew and drummer Thorn Lax aren’t a couple anymore?”
“That marriage ended with lawsuits, arson and treason,” Julius told him.
“Don’t all relationships end that way?” Habbly asked.
Julius shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Wait, where’s the other goblin, Yips?”
“He asked to be locked up with Anton to keep him company,” Brody answered.
Archibald cleared his throat. “If we may begin?”
The two men and three goblins were not the only ones in the sparsely decorated breakroom. There were four tables, twelve chairs, stacks of reading material no one had bothered reading in decades and one member of the Truth Seekers. The young man didn’t match that impressive title, being eighteen years old, tall and thin with messy black hair and bad acne. He was seated at one of the tables next to a large stack of Truth Seeker papers, his black uniform replaced with a prison uniform dyed bright pink.
“Can we do something about my clothes?” their prisoner asked.
Julius sat down across the table from the youth. “That’s what prisoners wear in Oceanview Kingdom. Your associates chose not to cooperate. You did, which gives you a reduced sentence, but you have to earn it. Name.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Kid, you don’t have the arms for breaking rocks,” Habbly said. “Keep playing dumb and that’s what you’ll be doing for the next twenty years.”
The youth gulped. “Sorry. Thought a little humor might lighten the mood. Craig Defoe.”
“You’re not a former Archivist,” Archibald said.
“How did you become associated with these renegades?”
“I used to be a scribe,” Craig said. “I met Anton when he was still with the Archivists. I’d get hired to do small copying projects for them and we got to talking.”
“Traitor!” Anton screamed from a broom closet.
“It’s over, Anton,” Craig replied. “We almost died! It’s time to either go down with the ship
or make the best deal we can.”
“You have been wronged!” Yips called out from the same broom closet. “I swear a blood oath to avenge you! I don’t have any blood handy, but I’ve got a handkerchief with mucus on it. That’ll do.”
“Don’t wipe that on me!” Anton yelled. “Oh come on, it’s all over my leg!”
“Can’t we move him somewhere else?” Brody asked.
“Oceanview’s king wants Anton and his friends in jail,” Julius replied. “We might be able to move them later, especially ones who cooperate, but for now it’s here or nowhere.
Craig, why did you join Anton?”
Craig cast his eyes down. “After work Anton and I would talk for hours. It started friendly, but the more time went by the angrier he got. He said the Archivists were hoarding information. They research ancient places for hidden secrets and treasures. Anton said when they found them, most of the time they hid them in guarded vaults. Everything they learned might as well have stayed buried because no one ever benefits from it.”
“A partial truth,” Archibald replied.
“That’s rich coming from a group called the Truth Seekers,” Habbly said.
“I told him it wasn’t just Archivists doing it,” Craig continued. “Anytime important people couldn’t finish copying paperwork in time they’d hired independent scribes like me to do it. You wouldn’t believe the things I saw! Merchants, noblemen, trade guilds, they all had secrets they kept buried, sometimes real embarrassing stuff. I told Anton I had to wonder if that’s what they’d pay me to copy, what did they have in-house scribes recording?”
Craig looked between Julius and Archibald. “Anton asked me to show him these papers. I did and he got furious. He said everyone was keeping secrets, stuff people would protest and even riot over if they knew the truth. He ran off, and the next night he showed up with a bunch of his friends from work. They wanted to find the secret papers I’d mentioned. I knew where to find personal records of the ironworkers’ guild because I’d done work for them. I thought it would be impossible to get in, but Anton knew some magic that helped. We found loads of paperwork filled with ugly stuff.”
“Define ugly,” Julius said.
“Their guild master paid bribes to politicians. He fired dwarf guild members because he hated dwarfs. He was cheating on his wife. The guild was turning out substandard work for export. It goes on.”
“Why didn’t you tell the authorities?” Julius asked.
“You mean why didn’t we show them stolen papers?” Craig asked. “Didn’t see that ending well.”
“There are still trustworthy people you could have gone to,” Julius said.
“If one guild master had done so many terrible things, we figured all our leaders were doing it, too. I mean, the Archivists have a great reputation, but nobody ever gets to see the stuff they dig up. The more we looked the more lies and crimes we found, written down where nobody but the guilty could see them.”
“So Anton decided to share this with the world,” Julius said.
Craig nodded. “We copied incriminating information onto sheets and pasted them on walls across the city. We thought there’d be a riot when the citizens found out, but most of the papers were torn down by guardsmen and the rest were ignored. I told Anton most people can’t read and we’d have to tell them in person, but he said that we’d get arrested. He said we’d just have to make more copies and spread them out many kingdoms.”
Brody rubbed his forehead. “Hold on, all the stuff you wrote about came from somebody else’s writing?”
“All of it,” Craig said. “We tried finding informants, but the people we approached either wouldn’t talk to us or wanted money.
The one time we bought information it turned out the guy was telling us what he thought we wanted to hear. In the end Anton said we had to get everything from written sources and verify it. Two sources minimum and someone had to go in person to make sure the information was true.”
“Some of this isn’t true,” Archibald said. He went through the pile of Truth Seeker papers until he selected one and set it down in front of Craig. “This headline claims the dwarf corporation Geo Speculations hired human criminals to guard their properties. Geo Speculations doesn’t trust other races and only hires dwarf guards.”
Habbly called to the broom closet, “Nothing to say about that one, Anton?”
“It was verified!”
“I’ll verify it again!” Yips shouted.
“Who verified it?” Julius asked.
Craig shrugged. “I don’t know. Anton divided our group into cells. Each cell is responsible for a single kingdom or city where they discover secrets. Cells only meet in emergencies and send runners to communicate in person. Every cell has a wizard who knows magic to mask our locations. Runners bring information to Anton, and he approves it and sends it back to be copied and spread. Cells have their own hideouts, suppliers and storehouses that only they know about.”
Julius glanced at Archibald. “That’s remarkably complex. Is that part of your training for junior Archivists?”
“Certainly not.”
“That’s Gron’s work,” Craig said.
“Who’s Gron?” Brody asked.
“You already met him. The older guy in our group? He’s the one who got away. Doesn’t surprise me. Gron’s a tough old bird. He told us how to divide into cells, how to get around defenses in manor houses and guild halls, even where to get supplies we need so nobody would suspect us.”
“And he was an Archivist?” Brody asked.
Ibwibble looked at Archibald and said, “Hey, you guys aren’t so bad! Can you help me hunt tax collectors?”
Exasperated, Archibald said, “This Gron person was never with us.”
“He found us,” Criag said casually. “We found recruits wherever we could, usually guys who were disgusted with their employers. Whole lotta them. Gron used to be with the Coral Ring merchants. He spotted our papers and asked around about joining us. The man was a godsend. He even got us money.”
“From where?” Julius asked.
“He stole it from the Coral Ring. It was never enough to do everything we wanted to do, but it got us through some hard times. When we ran out, he helped us get more from the Coral Ring by stealing pay chests.”
“Liberating pay chests!” Anton yelled.
“It’s too late for that kind of talk!” Craig yelled back.
“I swear to liberate your socks!” Yips added.
“Stop eating those!” Anton screamed.
“Somebody get him out of here!”
“Hold everything!” Habbly yelled. “A merchant knew how to set up a secret organization? How?”
“He said he spent time in the army before joining the Coral Ring,” Craig explained.
“That’s not standard training for a soldier, either,” Julius said. “Not unless you were an intelligence agent.” He saw the puzzled expressions on every face except Archibald’s and said, “A spy.”
“You said you guys talked by runners,” Ibwibble said. “Did Gron manage that?”
“Yeah,” Craig admitted. “Look, guys, you don’t get it. Gron saved our lives more times than I can count. He’s golden. The guy swore an oath to us like I’d never heard. You don’t break oaths like that.”
“What was this oath,” Archibald asked.
Craig looked serious when he said, ““I solemnly swear that I shall serve you loyally with all my strength until I die, and may I be torn limb from limb if I tell a lie.”
“At least it rhymes,” Ibwibble said.
“I never heard an oath like that,” Brody admitted.
Julius’ expression hardened. “I have. It’s common in the Land of the Nine Dukes. Most of the dukes rob merchants rather than buy from them, so Gron didn’t learn that oath by doing business there. It must be where he was born.”
“Does that matter?” Brody asked.
“Yes!” Ibwibble seized the stack of Truth Seeker papers and started arranging them in piles. “Nolod, Cronsword, Forthosia, Oceanview, Long Land and Ket! Those are all close enough you could walk there without wearing out your shoes. The Land of the Nine Dukes is smack dab between Forrthosia, Oceanview and Long Land, and not one paper blabbed their secrets.”
Craig rolled his eyes. “The Guild of Heroes’ top man is taking advice from goblins. Wow. We didn’t learn secrets from the Land of the Nine Dukes because we never set up a cell there. It was too dangerous after the ruckus from the Fallen King ravaging the land.”
“Exactly who decided it was too dangerous?” Habbly asked.
“Gron did,” Anton said from inside the broom closet. His earlier defiance was gone, replaced by a thoughtful tone. Craig looked surprised.
Julius got up and walked over to the closet’s door. “You personally approved the secrets you revealed, but Gron dealt with your runners. Could he have approving things you chose not to reveal without you knowing?”
“Open the door,” Anton said softly. Julius opened it and let Anton out. The young man was dressed in the same prison clothes as Craig, but he also wore iron gloves locked over his hands to keep him from casting spells. Anton walked over to the table and looked at the stacks of papers. Yips followed him, still chewing on the young wizard’s socks. Anton went through the papers briefly before pointing at one. “This is a lie. So is the next one. That one wasn’t verified.”
Page by page Anton went through the papers, identifying lie after lie. When he was done there were dozens of stories either false or questionable. He slumped down into a chair, his face pale and a haunted look in his eyes.
“The earliest posts were all accurate. Later ones had flaws. The most recent papers are half lies and guesswork. Ones I personally wrote and posted are true. Gron wouldn’t dare alter them when I’d see them.”
“Did you two ever argue about which secrets to reveal?” Julius asked Anton.
“He said we had to be bolder, to take more risks. He said if we kept information to ourselves then we were no different than the Archivists, burying the truth where no one could see it.”
“None of these papers talk about Gron’s homeland,” Julius said. “This looks like an intelligence operation to create confusion and conflict in neighboring countries.”
“But why?” Brody asked. “If this gets out everybody in a thousand miles is going to hate the Land of the Nine Dukes. They barely survived getting attacked by the Fallen King and his army of thugs. If actual kingdoms come after them when they’re still weak, they’re toast.”
“That’s why they did it,” Archibald said. “The Land of the Nine Dukes needs years if not decades to fully recover. They are incredibly vulnerable to attack by neighboring kingdoms, but if those kingdoms are wracked by internal struggle, they can’t take advantage of this weakness. As for hating the Land of the Nine Dukes, every nearby city state and nation already does. There was every reason to make this cowardly attack from the shadows and no downside. Making matters worse, if that is possible, their last post makes the invasion of Oceanview a very real possibility.”
Archibald selected a single paper and held it up to Craig and Anton. “The Dawn Lantern is in Sunset City. Dare I ask if this is one of your ‘verified’ truths?”
“I learned you were sending Archivists to find it,” Anton said weakly. “I didn’t say anything about it because the Archivists have been looking for it for years. I never thought it was in Sunset City.”
Brody raised his hand. “Somebody want to fill the rest of us in on this?”
“The Dawn Lantern is one of the fifty most powerful magic items on Other Place,” Archibald said. “It has passed from one owner to another for three hundred years, never staying in one place or with one person for long. Of all the so called ‘big fifty’, it is one of three currently unclaimed. The Truth Seekers say it is in this city. Anyone who wants it will come to seize it.”
“This is a big city with lots of people,” Brody said. “Who’d even think to attack?”
“The sort of people powerful enough to attack an entire city and win,” Julius said. “We already met Magnus Quake of the Inspired. The Inspired want to take control of the world. Having the Dawn Lanter would make that possible.”
“It’s that powerful?” Brody asked.
“We don’t know how strong it is,” Archibald admitted. “Records concerning the Dawn Lantern are few and contradictory. Magic that could discover those secrets has always failed. What little we do know is cryptic and hard to interpret, including the claim the lantern can allow vampires to walk in the light of day.”
“So vampires might attack,” Habbly said. “Because we really needed that.”
“Vampires powerful enough to think they can attack a city,” Julius added. “Neighboring kingdoms might attack, as could pirates, thieves, mercenaries, secret societies and more. We’re in incredible danger until we either find it or prove it’s not here.”
Ibwibble shrugged. “I don’t see why everyone’s so upset. He’s a good guy who keeps to himself.”
“Who?” Brody asked.
“The lantern. I met him. He’s cool.”
“You know where it is?” Archibald demanded.
“Him and me went separate ways months ago.”
“You had one of the most powerful magic items on the planet and lost it?” Anton screamed.
“Yeah, so what?” Ibwibble asked.
Anton covered his face with his hands. “Unbelievable.”
The meeting was interrupted when a door opened and Officer Dalton and Kadid Lan staggered into the breakroom. The guardsman and apprentice wizard were dirty and exhausted as they approached Julius.
“Nothing to report, sir,” Officer Dalton said. “The king has every guardsman and anyone else he trusts scouring the city. We haven’t found the Dawn Lantern or clues where it is.”
“Which sadly proves nothing,” Archibald replied. “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. The Dawn Lantern might be here so well concealed we haven’t found it, or simply be in a place we haven’t looked yet.”
“The longer we go without finding it, the better the chance it was never here,” Kadid said.
“If the authorities did find it, they might lie about it,” Julius countered. “The people who want it have to assume it’s either currently here or was here recently enough that this is where they should start searching.”
Anton’s eyes were fixed on the papers covering the table. “He lied to me. He used me.”
“Used us,” Craig corrected him.
“There were real verified crimes I was going to expose, and he replaced them with lies,” Anton continued. “He corrupted everything I tried to accomplish.”
“News flash, chuckles, your plan as intended nearly got people killed,” Ibwibble said. “You told everybody these secrets, including really bad people. Some stuff gets buried for a reason. You ruined more lives than alcohol before you became this jerk’s personal sock puppet.”
“Now what?” Brody asked.
Julius headed for the door. “We keep looking for the Dawn Lantern. If we find it, we use it to keep enemies at bay. We send messages to other victims of the Truth Seekers so they know what’s going on. We try to break up the remaining cells so they can’t spread any more lies. Stopping Gron is a high priority, because he’s actively trying to cause an invasion. And we call for help from anyone who will come.”
Julius glanced at Archibald. “The Archivists aren’t focused on combat magic, but you have to have people who can fight, if only to protect your vaults of information and artifacts.”
“We are being pressed hard on every side by those who seek to plunder those vaults,” Archibald replied. “Those who can help are needed where they are. What of the Guild of Heroes?”
“Every guildmember who can still stand is on assignment.” Julius clenched his fists and said, “An attack on Sunset City could come in weeks or even days. Is there anyone else we can trust who could come in time?”
“Could we print our own papers saying the Trith Seekers are tools and the Dawn Lantern isn’t here?” Brody asked.
“An exemplary plan, save for the fact our enemies will assume it’s an attempt to divert them from their prize,” Archibald replied. “Gron will also keep telling lies, and the ambitious will believe the version that fits decisions they’ve already made.”
There was the sound of voices outside the breakroom. Officer Dalton went to the door, only for it to open so suddenly it hit him on the forehead. He staggered back, and a mob of goblins poured in, led by a gray skinned goblin with white hair and outrageously long eyebrows.
“Little Old Dude,” Julius said. Ibwibble stood at attention and the other goblins sucked in their guts. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wasn’t planning on coming,” Little Old Dude replied. He waved for his goblins to drop a hogtied man dressed in black at Julius’ feet. “I heard you were collecting these losers. We caught one after he nearly got me and two of my students killed.”
Little Old Dude climbed on top of his whimpering prisoner. “I’m too old to put up with this nonsense. What do we have to do to make it stop?”
“How much does that rental house for the guards cost you?” Brody asked Julius.
“Five guilders a week rent and another three guilders for snacks. I also borrowed two dart boards and reading material that isn’t fifteen years out of date.”
Ibwibble held up a magazine older than he was and asked, “Does that mean starlet Jenny Starbrew and drummer Thorn Lax aren’t a couple anymore?”
“That marriage ended with lawsuits, arson and treason,” Julius told him.
“Don’t all relationships end that way?” Habbly asked.
Julius shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Wait, where’s the other goblin, Yips?”
“He asked to be locked up with Anton to keep him company,” Brody answered.
Archibald cleared his throat. “If we may begin?”
The two men and three goblins were not the only ones in the sparsely decorated breakroom. There were four tables, twelve chairs, stacks of reading material no one had bothered reading in decades and one member of the Truth Seekers. The young man didn’t match that impressive title, being eighteen years old, tall and thin with messy black hair and bad acne. He was seated at one of the tables next to a large stack of Truth Seeker papers, his black uniform replaced with a prison uniform dyed bright pink.
“Can we do something about my clothes?” their prisoner asked.
Julius sat down across the table from the youth. “That’s what prisoners wear in Oceanview Kingdom. Your associates chose not to cooperate. You did, which gives you a reduced sentence, but you have to earn it. Name.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Kid, you don’t have the arms for breaking rocks,” Habbly said. “Keep playing dumb and that’s what you’ll be doing for the next twenty years.”
The youth gulped. “Sorry. Thought a little humor might lighten the mood. Craig Defoe.”
“You’re not a former Archivist,” Archibald said.
“How did you become associated with these renegades?”
“I used to be a scribe,” Craig said. “I met Anton when he was still with the Archivists. I’d get hired to do small copying projects for them and we got to talking.”
“Traitor!” Anton screamed from a broom closet.
“It’s over, Anton,” Craig replied. “We almost died! It’s time to either go down with the ship
or make the best deal we can.”
“You have been wronged!” Yips called out from the same broom closet. “I swear a blood oath to avenge you! I don’t have any blood handy, but I’ve got a handkerchief with mucus on it. That’ll do.”
“Don’t wipe that on me!” Anton yelled. “Oh come on, it’s all over my leg!”
“Can’t we move him somewhere else?” Brody asked.
“Oceanview’s king wants Anton and his friends in jail,” Julius replied. “We might be able to move them later, especially ones who cooperate, but for now it’s here or nowhere.
Craig, why did you join Anton?”
Craig cast his eyes down. “After work Anton and I would talk for hours. It started friendly, but the more time went by the angrier he got. He said the Archivists were hoarding information. They research ancient places for hidden secrets and treasures. Anton said when they found them, most of the time they hid them in guarded vaults. Everything they learned might as well have stayed buried because no one ever benefits from it.”
“A partial truth,” Archibald replied.
“That’s rich coming from a group called the Truth Seekers,” Habbly said.
“I told him it wasn’t just Archivists doing it,” Craig continued. “Anytime important people couldn’t finish copying paperwork in time they’d hired independent scribes like me to do it. You wouldn’t believe the things I saw! Merchants, noblemen, trade guilds, they all had secrets they kept buried, sometimes real embarrassing stuff. I told Anton I had to wonder if that’s what they’d pay me to copy, what did they have in-house scribes recording?”
Craig looked between Julius and Archibald. “Anton asked me to show him these papers. I did and he got furious. He said everyone was keeping secrets, stuff people would protest and even riot over if they knew the truth. He ran off, and the next night he showed up with a bunch of his friends from work. They wanted to find the secret papers I’d mentioned. I knew where to find personal records of the ironworkers’ guild because I’d done work for them. I thought it would be impossible to get in, but Anton knew some magic that helped. We found loads of paperwork filled with ugly stuff.”
“Define ugly,” Julius said.
“Their guild master paid bribes to politicians. He fired dwarf guild members because he hated dwarfs. He was cheating on his wife. The guild was turning out substandard work for export. It goes on.”
“Why didn’t you tell the authorities?” Julius asked.
“You mean why didn’t we show them stolen papers?” Craig asked. “Didn’t see that ending well.”
“There are still trustworthy people you could have gone to,” Julius said.
“If one guild master had done so many terrible things, we figured all our leaders were doing it, too. I mean, the Archivists have a great reputation, but nobody ever gets to see the stuff they dig up. The more we looked the more lies and crimes we found, written down where nobody but the guilty could see them.”
“So Anton decided to share this with the world,” Julius said.
Craig nodded. “We copied incriminating information onto sheets and pasted them on walls across the city. We thought there’d be a riot when the citizens found out, but most of the papers were torn down by guardsmen and the rest were ignored. I told Anton most people can’t read and we’d have to tell them in person, but he said that we’d get arrested. He said we’d just have to make more copies and spread them out many kingdoms.”
Brody rubbed his forehead. “Hold on, all the stuff you wrote about came from somebody else’s writing?”
“All of it,” Craig said. “We tried finding informants, but the people we approached either wouldn’t talk to us or wanted money.
The one time we bought information it turned out the guy was telling us what he thought we wanted to hear. In the end Anton said we had to get everything from written sources and verify it. Two sources minimum and someone had to go in person to make sure the information was true.”
“Some of this isn’t true,” Archibald said. He went through the pile of Truth Seeker papers until he selected one and set it down in front of Craig. “This headline claims the dwarf corporation Geo Speculations hired human criminals to guard their properties. Geo Speculations doesn’t trust other races and only hires dwarf guards.”
Habbly called to the broom closet, “Nothing to say about that one, Anton?”
“It was verified!”
“I’ll verify it again!” Yips shouted.
“Who verified it?” Julius asked.
Craig shrugged. “I don’t know. Anton divided our group into cells. Each cell is responsible for a single kingdom or city where they discover secrets. Cells only meet in emergencies and send runners to communicate in person. Every cell has a wizard who knows magic to mask our locations. Runners bring information to Anton, and he approves it and sends it back to be copied and spread. Cells have their own hideouts, suppliers and storehouses that only they know about.”
Julius glanced at Archibald. “That’s remarkably complex. Is that part of your training for junior Archivists?”
“Certainly not.”
“That’s Gron’s work,” Craig said.
“Who’s Gron?” Brody asked.
“You already met him. The older guy in our group? He’s the one who got away. Doesn’t surprise me. Gron’s a tough old bird. He told us how to divide into cells, how to get around defenses in manor houses and guild halls, even where to get supplies we need so nobody would suspect us.”
“And he was an Archivist?” Brody asked.
Ibwibble looked at Archibald and said, “Hey, you guys aren’t so bad! Can you help me hunt tax collectors?”
Exasperated, Archibald said, “This Gron person was never with us.”
“He found us,” Criag said casually. “We found recruits wherever we could, usually guys who were disgusted with their employers. Whole lotta them. Gron used to be with the Coral Ring merchants. He spotted our papers and asked around about joining us. The man was a godsend. He even got us money.”
“From where?” Julius asked.
“He stole it from the Coral Ring. It was never enough to do everything we wanted to do, but it got us through some hard times. When we ran out, he helped us get more from the Coral Ring by stealing pay chests.”
“Liberating pay chests!” Anton yelled.
“It’s too late for that kind of talk!” Craig yelled back.
“I swear to liberate your socks!” Yips added.
“Stop eating those!” Anton screamed.
“Somebody get him out of here!”
“Hold everything!” Habbly yelled. “A merchant knew how to set up a secret organization? How?”
“He said he spent time in the army before joining the Coral Ring,” Craig explained.
“That’s not standard training for a soldier, either,” Julius said. “Not unless you were an intelligence agent.” He saw the puzzled expressions on every face except Archibald’s and said, “A spy.”
“You said you guys talked by runners,” Ibwibble said. “Did Gron manage that?”
“Yeah,” Craig admitted. “Look, guys, you don’t get it. Gron saved our lives more times than I can count. He’s golden. The guy swore an oath to us like I’d never heard. You don’t break oaths like that.”
“What was this oath,” Archibald asked.
Craig looked serious when he said, ““I solemnly swear that I shall serve you loyally with all my strength until I die, and may I be torn limb from limb if I tell a lie.”
“At least it rhymes,” Ibwibble said.
“I never heard an oath like that,” Brody admitted.
Julius’ expression hardened. “I have. It’s common in the Land of the Nine Dukes. Most of the dukes rob merchants rather than buy from them, so Gron didn’t learn that oath by doing business there. It must be where he was born.”
“Does that matter?” Brody asked.
“Yes!” Ibwibble seized the stack of Truth Seeker papers and started arranging them in piles. “Nolod, Cronsword, Forthosia, Oceanview, Long Land and Ket! Those are all close enough you could walk there without wearing out your shoes. The Land of the Nine Dukes is smack dab between Forrthosia, Oceanview and Long Land, and not one paper blabbed their secrets.”
Craig rolled his eyes. “The Guild of Heroes’ top man is taking advice from goblins. Wow. We didn’t learn secrets from the Land of the Nine Dukes because we never set up a cell there. It was too dangerous after the ruckus from the Fallen King ravaging the land.”
“Exactly who decided it was too dangerous?” Habbly asked.
“Gron did,” Anton said from inside the broom closet. His earlier defiance was gone, replaced by a thoughtful tone. Craig looked surprised.
Julius got up and walked over to the closet’s door. “You personally approved the secrets you revealed, but Gron dealt with your runners. Could he have approving things you chose not to reveal without you knowing?”
“Open the door,” Anton said softly. Julius opened it and let Anton out. The young man was dressed in the same prison clothes as Craig, but he also wore iron gloves locked over his hands to keep him from casting spells. Anton walked over to the table and looked at the stacks of papers. Yips followed him, still chewing on the young wizard’s socks. Anton went through the papers briefly before pointing at one. “This is a lie. So is the next one. That one wasn’t verified.”
Page by page Anton went through the papers, identifying lie after lie. When he was done there were dozens of stories either false or questionable. He slumped down into a chair, his face pale and a haunted look in his eyes.
“The earliest posts were all accurate. Later ones had flaws. The most recent papers are half lies and guesswork. Ones I personally wrote and posted are true. Gron wouldn’t dare alter them when I’d see them.”
“Did you two ever argue about which secrets to reveal?” Julius asked Anton.
“He said we had to be bolder, to take more risks. He said if we kept information to ourselves then we were no different than the Archivists, burying the truth where no one could see it.”
“None of these papers talk about Gron’s homeland,” Julius said. “This looks like an intelligence operation to create confusion and conflict in neighboring countries.”
“But why?” Brody asked. “If this gets out everybody in a thousand miles is going to hate the Land of the Nine Dukes. They barely survived getting attacked by the Fallen King and his army of thugs. If actual kingdoms come after them when they’re still weak, they’re toast.”
“That’s why they did it,” Archibald said. “The Land of the Nine Dukes needs years if not decades to fully recover. They are incredibly vulnerable to attack by neighboring kingdoms, but if those kingdoms are wracked by internal struggle, they can’t take advantage of this weakness. As for hating the Land of the Nine Dukes, every nearby city state and nation already does. There was every reason to make this cowardly attack from the shadows and no downside. Making matters worse, if that is possible, their last post makes the invasion of Oceanview a very real possibility.”
Archibald selected a single paper and held it up to Craig and Anton. “The Dawn Lantern is in Sunset City. Dare I ask if this is one of your ‘verified’ truths?”
“I learned you were sending Archivists to find it,” Anton said weakly. “I didn’t say anything about it because the Archivists have been looking for it for years. I never thought it was in Sunset City.”
Brody raised his hand. “Somebody want to fill the rest of us in on this?”
“The Dawn Lantern is one of the fifty most powerful magic items on Other Place,” Archibald said. “It has passed from one owner to another for three hundred years, never staying in one place or with one person for long. Of all the so called ‘big fifty’, it is one of three currently unclaimed. The Truth Seekers say it is in this city. Anyone who wants it will come to seize it.”
“This is a big city with lots of people,” Brody said. “Who’d even think to attack?”
“The sort of people powerful enough to attack an entire city and win,” Julius said. “We already met Magnus Quake of the Inspired. The Inspired want to take control of the world. Having the Dawn Lanter would make that possible.”
“It’s that powerful?” Brody asked.
“We don’t know how strong it is,” Archibald admitted. “Records concerning the Dawn Lantern are few and contradictory. Magic that could discover those secrets has always failed. What little we do know is cryptic and hard to interpret, including the claim the lantern can allow vampires to walk in the light of day.”
“So vampires might attack,” Habbly said. “Because we really needed that.”
“Vampires powerful enough to think they can attack a city,” Julius added. “Neighboring kingdoms might attack, as could pirates, thieves, mercenaries, secret societies and more. We’re in incredible danger until we either find it or prove it’s not here.”
Ibwibble shrugged. “I don’t see why everyone’s so upset. He’s a good guy who keeps to himself.”
“Who?” Brody asked.
“The lantern. I met him. He’s cool.”
“You know where it is?” Archibald demanded.
“Him and me went separate ways months ago.”
“You had one of the most powerful magic items on the planet and lost it?” Anton screamed.
“Yeah, so what?” Ibwibble asked.
Anton covered his face with his hands. “Unbelievable.”
The meeting was interrupted when a door opened and Officer Dalton and Kadid Lan staggered into the breakroom. The guardsman and apprentice wizard were dirty and exhausted as they approached Julius.
“Nothing to report, sir,” Officer Dalton said. “The king has every guardsman and anyone else he trusts scouring the city. We haven’t found the Dawn Lantern or clues where it is.”
“Which sadly proves nothing,” Archibald replied. “Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. The Dawn Lantern might be here so well concealed we haven’t found it, or simply be in a place we haven’t looked yet.”
“The longer we go without finding it, the better the chance it was never here,” Kadid said.
“If the authorities did find it, they might lie about it,” Julius countered. “The people who want it have to assume it’s either currently here or was here recently enough that this is where they should start searching.”
Anton’s eyes were fixed on the papers covering the table. “He lied to me. He used me.”
“Used us,” Craig corrected him.
“There were real verified crimes I was going to expose, and he replaced them with lies,” Anton continued. “He corrupted everything I tried to accomplish.”
“News flash, chuckles, your plan as intended nearly got people killed,” Ibwibble said. “You told everybody these secrets, including really bad people. Some stuff gets buried for a reason. You ruined more lives than alcohol before you became this jerk’s personal sock puppet.”
“Now what?” Brody asked.
Julius headed for the door. “We keep looking for the Dawn Lantern. If we find it, we use it to keep enemies at bay. We send messages to other victims of the Truth Seekers so they know what’s going on. We try to break up the remaining cells so they can’t spread any more lies. Stopping Gron is a high priority, because he’s actively trying to cause an invasion. And we call for help from anyone who will come.”
Julius glanced at Archibald. “The Archivists aren’t focused on combat magic, but you have to have people who can fight, if only to protect your vaults of information and artifacts.”
“We are being pressed hard on every side by those who seek to plunder those vaults,” Archibald replied. “Those who can help are needed where they are. What of the Guild of Heroes?”
“Every guildmember who can still stand is on assignment.” Julius clenched his fists and said, “An attack on Sunset City could come in weeks or even days. Is there anyone else we can trust who could come in time?”
“Could we print our own papers saying the Trith Seekers are tools and the Dawn Lantern isn’t here?” Brody asked.
“An exemplary plan, save for the fact our enemies will assume it’s an attempt to divert them from their prize,” Archibald replied. “Gron will also keep telling lies, and the ambitious will believe the version that fits decisions they’ve already made.”
There was the sound of voices outside the breakroom. Officer Dalton went to the door, only for it to open so suddenly it hit him on the forehead. He staggered back, and a mob of goblins poured in, led by a gray skinned goblin with white hair and outrageously long eyebrows.
“Little Old Dude,” Julius said. Ibwibble stood at attention and the other goblins sucked in their guts. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wasn’t planning on coming,” Little Old Dude replied. He waved for his goblins to drop a hogtied man dressed in black at Julius’ feet. “I heard you were collecting these losers. We caught one after he nearly got me and two of my students killed.”
Little Old Dude climbed on top of his whimpering prisoner. “I’m too old to put up with this nonsense. What do we have to do to make it stop?”
November 7, 2024
New Goblin Stories 26
“Mansions are a puzzle,” Stotle said. It was a glorious sunny day in Sunset City, and Stotle was people watching on a busy street. “Such huge buildings can house many residents yet have only a small fraction of their capacity living inside. Their size and splendor are meant to awe visitors and rivals, but they cost so much to build and maintain, funds better spent to generate further wealth. So much money spent for so little purpose.”
A few men walking by stared at the little goblin perched on windowsill of a small stone tower. The tower hadn’t been there the day before, but everyone was in a hurry, and anyone who stopped to question what was going on was pushed forward by the stream of people behind them.
“There is a possibility the mansion’s grandeur is advantageous,” Stotle admitted. “If your house is large and filled with nice things, it must mean you are powerful and influential. Thus visitors will give you more of their attention and be more likely to obey ridiculous orders. Of course some people would be inclined to steal that wealth, possibly hurting the owner in the process, making this an advisable course of action only in a law abiding society. Are we in one of those?”
The stone tower shrugged. A few people noticed the movement, but again the push of the crowds behind them kept them from sticking around and asking awkward questions like ‘what’s going on’ or ‘are we in danger’.
Sunset City was one of those rare cities that didn’t instinctively hate goblins. This was due to a fire eighty years ago that had destroyed half the city. The fire had started late at night, and goblins had been instrumental in warning people of the danger. Afterwards a royal decree was issued that goblins would be tolerated provided they did nothing truly outrageous, a big request, but goblins had made some effort to stay in the city’s good graces. It was a tenuous truce which allowed Stotle to be out in the open without anyone trying to attack him.
“Regardless, I wouldn’t want you to turn into a mansion. I have no pretensions, and it would attract attention from people I’d prefer to avoid. Do you have a favorite form?”
The tower had to think about that for a few seconds before it shrugged again. This time a man and woman stopped and stared.
“Who are you talking to?” the man asked.
Stotle tapped the stone tower. “A close friend who has proven to be a remarkably good listener. Most people try to gag me when I go on like this. It’s really quite fortunate that we met.”
“Are you okay?” the woman asked.
Stotle sat up straight and smiled. “Now that is an interesting question. How are we judging wellness when there are so many—”
“Move it before I kick you in the backside!” a dwarf yelled, and he pushed the couple along.
“Startling how often intense philosophical discussions end that way,” Stotle lamented. “No one has time to discuss the nature of existence, proof society is in too much of a hurry.”
It had been Stotle’s observation that people in general and humans in particular rushed from one place to another. Rush to work, rush away from work, rush to places of amusement, rush to get in line and stop rushing. You’d think they’d be happy to rest for a while in those lines, but no, they found standing still stressful. It was a dreadful, silly and often senseless way to go through life.
For a change there was actually a reason for everyone to be hurrying along. A prison wagon pulled by four horses and escorted by four guardsmen rolled down the street. Such wagons were more like large boxes on wheels, with a locked door to admit criminals and a barred window on the back end. Stotle had long wanted to ride in one, but every time he met guardsmen they were more inclined to shoo him away than arrest him. Quite unfair. To his amazement he recognized the person inside pressed up against the window.
“Tristan!” Stotle called out. He stood up and waved. “Good to see you again.”
The prison wagon came to a halt as guardsmen tried to clear the road. This gave Stotle a few moments to talk to his old friend. Tristan pulled futilely at the window bars, when he spotted Stotle. “You!”
“You seem to be in a spot of trouble,” Stotle said. “Last I’d heard, you’d settled down and gotten a job as a clerk.”
“My father found us and attacked my family!”
The stone tower began to tremble. Stotle patted it and said, “Easy. If he attacked you, why isn’t he in that wagon?”
Another wagon with four more guardsmen escorting it rolled up behind the first. Stotle didn’t see who was held within it, but he heard an angry man inside scream, “Release me, you fools!”
“Ah, that would be him,” Stotle said.
“Guardsmen didn’t know what was going on and seized us all,” Tristan said. Nearby pedestrians looked horrified at the news, even more so when Tristan’s wife Esa stood up beside her husband, the couple’s tiny baby in her arms.
The stone tower shook more and began to shift under Stotle, assembling a large arm of wood and bricks. Stotle ran his right hand across the tower and said, “We’ll get them out, but not like that. Tristan, don’t panic. I’ll have you out of there in time for breakfast. What do you prefer, eggs and bacon or oatmeal?”
The road cleared and the prison wagons rolled out. Stotle heard Tristan and Isa’s baby crying. The tower almost came apart, but Stotle calmed it, saying, “We’ll need time to deal with this. And oatmeal. I’m almost certain he said oatmeal.”
A door at the base of the tower opened and goblins came spilling out. One of them looked up at Stotle and said, “What’s going on? We were sound asleep when the big guy nearly split in half.”
“We need to save our old friend Tristan from jail,” Stotle explained.
A goblin scratched his head. “Jailbreak or phony evidence?”
“Oddly enough, neither.”
* * * * *
Sunset City had only one courthouse, a large brick building in the city’s government sector. It was only a matter of time until the prison wagon arrived carrying Tristan, Isa and their baby arrived. Stotle and his fellow goblins snuck in, found the trial schedule and took the necessary steps to ensure a favorable outcome. The next morning the goblins found the family in a locked room. Stotle and a shaggy goblin had no trouble picking the lock and joining them.
Amazed, Tristan asked, “How did you get in?”
“Prisons and courthouses and built to keep people in, not out,” Stotle explained. “Don’t worry, I brought oatmeal.”
“I, wait, what?” Tristan asked. “Are you breaking us out?”
“Good heavens, no,” Stotle replied, and handed a bowl of oatmeal to Isa. “You are a law abiding man with a family and a job. The very thought of you sneaking out of prison to a ship waiting to carry you far away is laughable.”
“At the moment it sounds appealing,” Tristan replied. “We’ve been fleeing my father’s wrath for so long. The thought of being so far away he can never find us is comforting.”
“Pish tosh,” Stotle said, and handed Tristan another bowl. “Far better you be found innocent of the whole matter, and my friends and I have arranged just that.”
“How?” Isa asked.
“We delayed all the judges in Sunset City so they couldn’t rule on your case,” Stotle explained. “With no judge available, they had no choice but to call our favorite judge, Roy B Sprout. The poor fellow is bored to death of retirement and jumped at this opportunity. I’m positive he will rule in your favor.”
Sounding worried, Tristan asked, “How did you delay these judges?”
“There’s no time to discuss missing horses, abducted pets or laundry related disasters,” Stotle replied. “Judge Sprout will see you soon, so finish your breakfasts and don’t worry.”
“You trust this judge?” Isa asked.
Stotle smiled. “Completely! He’s quite mad, you know.”
Tristan gasped, but before he could talk the door opened and another goblin came in. “Guys, we’ve got to talk. In private.”
“We’ll be back shortly,” Stotle promised the young family. He went out to a hallway with the shaggy goblin and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I asked around, and before that evil guy attacked his son, he hired armed men. They broke into Tristan and Isa’s apartment last night. They’re back, and one of them got in to see the old guy.”
Stotle frowned. “They sound like mercenaries, or possibly assassins. We’re going to have to take a more active role in this matter.”
Stotle led the goblins out of the courthouse, where more goblins waited in an alleyway. There was also an outhouse where there hadn’t been one an hour before. An agitated man kept pulling on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Model Zero Constructor, take the form of a man,” Stotle announced. The outhouse came apart and rebuilt itself into a golem made of wood, stone and iron. The man screamed and ran off, leaving the goblins and golem alone. Stotle walked up to Model Zero and said, “Tristan and his family are in danger.”
The golem leapt back, bumping into the courthouse. It held its one hand open a little, trying to suggest someone very small.
“Yes, that includes their daughter.”
Model Zero Constructor clenched his hand into a fist and shook it.
* * * * *
Courtroom number seven was large enough to accommodate a crowd even if it only had a small number of staff and the defendants. There were two tables with chairs, a currently empty jury box and the judge’s bench with a court assistant’s desk. The staff included a white haired male gnome at the assistant’s desk, an adolescent troll bailiff and a young lady court stenographer carrying a wad of papers. Tristan, Isa and their daughter were at one table while Tristan’s father was at the second, staring balefully at his son. Large windows let the morning light illuminate the room and two doors allowed entry to the courtroom.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” the troll began. “Court is now in session, so shut your yaps. The honorable Judge Roy S Bean presiding.”
The gnome choked on his spit, nearly passing out, as the judge entered the court. He was an old man with white hair and a short mustache, and he was still buttoning up his black robe as he sat behind his bench. “Sorry I’m late. Didn’t know I was supposed to be here until twenty minutes ago. They made me retire and then show up with more work. Kelp, is that you?”
The gnome managed a weak nod, prompting Juge Sprout to add, “Good to see you still on the job. It’s hardworking people like you who make the legal system work. You don’t get enough respect by half. Now who are we starting with?”
“There was a public disturbance and—” the gnome began.
“Right, this one here.” Judge Sprout held up a sheet of paper from the top of a stack on his bench. “Says a man attacked his son, wife and their daughter at the Atlas Shipping company. No serious injuries, no damage to public or private property, but we need to make sure it doesn’t go farther. Where’s this daughter? Don’t see her.”
Tristan gestured to his infant daughter and said, “This is my daughter, law giver.”
“Law giver?” Judge Sprout asked.
“Isn’t that what your job is called here?” Tristan sounded hesitant.
“We’re called judges. Where are you from, son?”
“Skitherin Kingdom. I apologize for my error. It won’t happen again.”
“You show this old fool respect and not your father?” the old man yelled.
“Pipe down!” the troll bailiff yelled. He scowled and added, “Hey, who are you?”
All eyes turned to see five people with bags of popcorn enter the courtroom and sit at the back. One of them said, “We heard Judge Sprout was back and we wanted to watch. Don’t mind us, we’ll be quiet.”
“Fine, whatever,” Judge Sprout said. He peered at the baby girl and said, “Paperwork said this fracas had something to do with the little lady. Bring her over, I want a look at her.”
“I, umm,” Tristan began, but he relented when the troll brough his daughter to the judge. Sprout held the baby with the ease of a man who’d raised children. The baby looked at him curiously as she tried to figure out who this was and if she should be upset.
“She’s healthy, good weight, plenty active,” Judge Sprout said. Kelp sighed and rolled his eyes. He and the rest of the courtroom totally missed a hired killer try to enter the courtroom with a handful of poison darts, only for four goblins to put a bag over his head and drag him out. Totally oblivious to the danger, Judge Sprout said, “I’ve got a grandbaby her age. Bring her over some time and we’ll let them play together.”
“Sir, the case,” Kelp said.
“We’ll get to it. Now what’s this fight over?”
“My father,” Tristan began.
“My disobedient son abandoned his responsibilities, married against my wishes and fathered this rodent!” Tristan’s father interrupted.
Men and women across the courtroom gasped except for Judge Sprout, whose eyes narrowed and gritted his teeth. Missing the obvious signs of danger, Tristan’s father continued his tirade.
“By Skitherin law he is obliged to serve me without question until death. I arranged a proper marriage for him, which is still possible once this conniving wench is properly dealt with. I demand he return with me at once and this sham of a marriage be recognized as illegal.”
“No!” Tristan cried out.
“Be silent, boy!” his father yelled back.
“That’s plenty enough of that,” Judge Sprout said firmly. When the baby began to whimper, he rocked her and patted her back.
“Law…judge, this isn’t the first time my father has attacked us,” Tristan said. “My family was on our wat to Oceanview Kingdom when he caught up with us and tried to strike us with a shattering star gauntlet. We only just escaped him.”
The stenographer gasped. Kelp lost his expression of exasperation and actually growled. The troll bailiff looked seconds away from violence. Spectators grabbed the sides of their chairs to keep from falling off in shock.
Judge Sprout banged his gavel and then asked Tristan, “Where’s this magic gauntlet?”
“I don’t know, sir. He didn’t have it during the second attack.”
“This is outrageous!” Tristan’s father yelled. “I demand my rights be respected!”
Outside the courthouse, a killer armed with a crossbow climbed onto a narrow ledge of a second story building and took aim at Esa. He had a clear shot through the window and was loading his crossbow when a huge hand of wood and bricks wrapped around his head, muffling his terrified cries as he was dragged down to street level for a vicious and well deserved beating.
“One more outburst like that and I’ll let the bailiff take you out behind the shed,” Judge Sprout said with a voice as harsh as acid.
“Really?” the troll asked. “None of the other judges let me do that.”
“They’re younger and more forgiving,” Judge Sprout replied. “Now as I see it, half of this is a matter of jurisdiction. You’re claiming this youngster go home with you based on Skitherin law. You’re a thousand miles away from where that would matter. Oceanview law says a boy is considered a man and independent at eighteen. How old are you, son?”
“Nineteen,” Tristan told him.
“That settles that. He can do as he pleases.”
Tristan’s father scowled at the ruling. Keeping his tone low, he said, “You would do well to consider your words. I regularly dine with the Minister of Obedience. A word from me to his ears would affect relations between our kingdoms.”
“I don’t care who you eat your supper with,” Judge Sprout replied. He shifted the baby so she rested on his shoulder. “The law doesn’t change if you’re rich or powerful. Your boy said you tried to kill his wife and daughter, but it was outside Oceanview Kingdom, so I can’t rule on that. Pity, but that’s the law.”
More people entered the courtroom to watch the proceedings, two carrying candy and one with a bag of peanuts. The door stayed open just long enough to see three goblins drag a swordsman into a broom closet, but all eyes were on the judge.
“Regarding the validity of this couple’s marriage, that’s an easy one,” Judge Sprout added. “Man’s free to marry who he wants at eighteen, so no problem there. Young lady, are you over eighteen?”
“Eighteen exactly, sir,” she said timidly.
“You went into the marriage of your own free will with no pressure?”
Shocked, she said, “Pressured? Certainly not!”
“Then that’s settled, too. You’re free to go about your business and the fight with the baby’s granddad won’t go on your record.”
“I am no relation to that brat!” Tristan’s father yelled.
Judge Sprout waved a finger at the man and asked, “Bailiff?”
“Aw, sweet!” The crowd of spectators gasped when the troll slapped the old man.
“Now as for you,” Judge Sprout began, “These days I’m not allowed to hold you longer for a crime that only resulted in a few bruises. Used to have more latitude in punishments, but I’m told it’s not right.”
Judge Sprout leaned over his bench and spoke in a murderous tone. “But I can order city guardsmen to watch you while you’re here, and if they see even a hint that you’re planning these good folks harm they’ll arrest you and put you in a deep, dark hole. Oceanview doesn’t allow the death penalty anymore. I flatter myself to think it’s because of how often I used that punishment. That said, guardsmen can use lethal force to protect the innocent if they see fit. Do we understand each other?”
The evil old man gritted his teeth. “We do.”
“Then get out of my court.”
Kelp rolled his eyes and said, “Sir, the baby.”
“What?”
“You didn’t give back the couple’s baby,” Kelp clarified.
“Oh!” Judge Sprout looked down and said, “Little lady fell asleep. Bailiff, hand her back. Paperwork says the next case is about an ogre beating up five men and covering them with tar. Call that case and let’s get this done in time for lunch.”
Tristan and Esa left with their daughter, giving his father fearful glances. The wicked man looked like was tempted to attack again, but he held in his fury until he exited the courthouse to the busy street. Once they were outside, the old man began yelling.
“You disgrace! You hide behind the pathetic laws of weak, undisciplined men! I raised you to be strong! I raised you to obey!”
“There is nothing between us,” Tristan replied. “No love, no warmth, no kindness. I have those with Esa, and I will never abandon her.”
“Then you doom yourself!
There was a long, awkward pause as everyone on the street stared at him in horror. He looked around as if expecting something dramatic to happen. When he was met with silence, he looked confused for a second and stormed away.
Stotle walked up to the young couple and frowned. “I fear we’re going to have to keep an eye on him. Hmm, I’d thought not existing would mean fewer responsibilities, not more.”
“You do exist,” Tristan told the goblin, “a fact I’m happy for. Excuse me, but I didn’t see an outhouse over there when my family and I were brought in.”
“Don’t give it any thought,” Stotle replied.
“Let us out!” a muffled voice called from inside the outhouse.
“No,” Stotle said. “Now I…oh dear my.”
“What’s wrong?” Isa asked.
Stotle pulled a paper off the outhouse’s door. “Whoever placed this paper has done us a disservice.”
‘No secrets! Your leaders are keeping the truth from you! A powerful magic artifact called the Dawn Lantern is hidden within Sunset City, capital of Oceanview Kingdom.’
“A great disservice indeed,” the goblin said.
A few men walking by stared at the little goblin perched on windowsill of a small stone tower. The tower hadn’t been there the day before, but everyone was in a hurry, and anyone who stopped to question what was going on was pushed forward by the stream of people behind them.
“There is a possibility the mansion’s grandeur is advantageous,” Stotle admitted. “If your house is large and filled with nice things, it must mean you are powerful and influential. Thus visitors will give you more of their attention and be more likely to obey ridiculous orders. Of course some people would be inclined to steal that wealth, possibly hurting the owner in the process, making this an advisable course of action only in a law abiding society. Are we in one of those?”
The stone tower shrugged. A few people noticed the movement, but again the push of the crowds behind them kept them from sticking around and asking awkward questions like ‘what’s going on’ or ‘are we in danger’.
Sunset City was one of those rare cities that didn’t instinctively hate goblins. This was due to a fire eighty years ago that had destroyed half the city. The fire had started late at night, and goblins had been instrumental in warning people of the danger. Afterwards a royal decree was issued that goblins would be tolerated provided they did nothing truly outrageous, a big request, but goblins had made some effort to stay in the city’s good graces. It was a tenuous truce which allowed Stotle to be out in the open without anyone trying to attack him.
“Regardless, I wouldn’t want you to turn into a mansion. I have no pretensions, and it would attract attention from people I’d prefer to avoid. Do you have a favorite form?”
The tower had to think about that for a few seconds before it shrugged again. This time a man and woman stopped and stared.
“Who are you talking to?” the man asked.
Stotle tapped the stone tower. “A close friend who has proven to be a remarkably good listener. Most people try to gag me when I go on like this. It’s really quite fortunate that we met.”
“Are you okay?” the woman asked.
Stotle sat up straight and smiled. “Now that is an interesting question. How are we judging wellness when there are so many—”
“Move it before I kick you in the backside!” a dwarf yelled, and he pushed the couple along.
“Startling how often intense philosophical discussions end that way,” Stotle lamented. “No one has time to discuss the nature of existence, proof society is in too much of a hurry.”
It had been Stotle’s observation that people in general and humans in particular rushed from one place to another. Rush to work, rush away from work, rush to places of amusement, rush to get in line and stop rushing. You’d think they’d be happy to rest for a while in those lines, but no, they found standing still stressful. It was a dreadful, silly and often senseless way to go through life.
For a change there was actually a reason for everyone to be hurrying along. A prison wagon pulled by four horses and escorted by four guardsmen rolled down the street. Such wagons were more like large boxes on wheels, with a locked door to admit criminals and a barred window on the back end. Stotle had long wanted to ride in one, but every time he met guardsmen they were more inclined to shoo him away than arrest him. Quite unfair. To his amazement he recognized the person inside pressed up against the window.
“Tristan!” Stotle called out. He stood up and waved. “Good to see you again.”
The prison wagon came to a halt as guardsmen tried to clear the road. This gave Stotle a few moments to talk to his old friend. Tristan pulled futilely at the window bars, when he spotted Stotle. “You!”
“You seem to be in a spot of trouble,” Stotle said. “Last I’d heard, you’d settled down and gotten a job as a clerk.”
“My father found us and attacked my family!”
The stone tower began to tremble. Stotle patted it and said, “Easy. If he attacked you, why isn’t he in that wagon?”
Another wagon with four more guardsmen escorting it rolled up behind the first. Stotle didn’t see who was held within it, but he heard an angry man inside scream, “Release me, you fools!”
“Ah, that would be him,” Stotle said.
“Guardsmen didn’t know what was going on and seized us all,” Tristan said. Nearby pedestrians looked horrified at the news, even more so when Tristan’s wife Esa stood up beside her husband, the couple’s tiny baby in her arms.
The stone tower shook more and began to shift under Stotle, assembling a large arm of wood and bricks. Stotle ran his right hand across the tower and said, “We’ll get them out, but not like that. Tristan, don’t panic. I’ll have you out of there in time for breakfast. What do you prefer, eggs and bacon or oatmeal?”
The road cleared and the prison wagons rolled out. Stotle heard Tristan and Isa’s baby crying. The tower almost came apart, but Stotle calmed it, saying, “We’ll need time to deal with this. And oatmeal. I’m almost certain he said oatmeal.”
A door at the base of the tower opened and goblins came spilling out. One of them looked up at Stotle and said, “What’s going on? We were sound asleep when the big guy nearly split in half.”
“We need to save our old friend Tristan from jail,” Stotle explained.
A goblin scratched his head. “Jailbreak or phony evidence?”
“Oddly enough, neither.”
* * * * *
Sunset City had only one courthouse, a large brick building in the city’s government sector. It was only a matter of time until the prison wagon arrived carrying Tristan, Isa and their baby arrived. Stotle and his fellow goblins snuck in, found the trial schedule and took the necessary steps to ensure a favorable outcome. The next morning the goblins found the family in a locked room. Stotle and a shaggy goblin had no trouble picking the lock and joining them.
Amazed, Tristan asked, “How did you get in?”
“Prisons and courthouses and built to keep people in, not out,” Stotle explained. “Don’t worry, I brought oatmeal.”
“I, wait, what?” Tristan asked. “Are you breaking us out?”
“Good heavens, no,” Stotle replied, and handed a bowl of oatmeal to Isa. “You are a law abiding man with a family and a job. The very thought of you sneaking out of prison to a ship waiting to carry you far away is laughable.”
“At the moment it sounds appealing,” Tristan replied. “We’ve been fleeing my father’s wrath for so long. The thought of being so far away he can never find us is comforting.”
“Pish tosh,” Stotle said, and handed Tristan another bowl. “Far better you be found innocent of the whole matter, and my friends and I have arranged just that.”
“How?” Isa asked.
“We delayed all the judges in Sunset City so they couldn’t rule on your case,” Stotle explained. “With no judge available, they had no choice but to call our favorite judge, Roy B Sprout. The poor fellow is bored to death of retirement and jumped at this opportunity. I’m positive he will rule in your favor.”
Sounding worried, Tristan asked, “How did you delay these judges?”
“There’s no time to discuss missing horses, abducted pets or laundry related disasters,” Stotle replied. “Judge Sprout will see you soon, so finish your breakfasts and don’t worry.”
“You trust this judge?” Isa asked.
Stotle smiled. “Completely! He’s quite mad, you know.”
Tristan gasped, but before he could talk the door opened and another goblin came in. “Guys, we’ve got to talk. In private.”
“We’ll be back shortly,” Stotle promised the young family. He went out to a hallway with the shaggy goblin and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I asked around, and before that evil guy attacked his son, he hired armed men. They broke into Tristan and Isa’s apartment last night. They’re back, and one of them got in to see the old guy.”
Stotle frowned. “They sound like mercenaries, or possibly assassins. We’re going to have to take a more active role in this matter.”
Stotle led the goblins out of the courthouse, where more goblins waited in an alleyway. There was also an outhouse where there hadn’t been one an hour before. An agitated man kept pulling on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Model Zero Constructor, take the form of a man,” Stotle announced. The outhouse came apart and rebuilt itself into a golem made of wood, stone and iron. The man screamed and ran off, leaving the goblins and golem alone. Stotle walked up to Model Zero and said, “Tristan and his family are in danger.”
The golem leapt back, bumping into the courthouse. It held its one hand open a little, trying to suggest someone very small.
“Yes, that includes their daughter.”
Model Zero Constructor clenched his hand into a fist and shook it.
* * * * *
Courtroom number seven was large enough to accommodate a crowd even if it only had a small number of staff and the defendants. There were two tables with chairs, a currently empty jury box and the judge’s bench with a court assistant’s desk. The staff included a white haired male gnome at the assistant’s desk, an adolescent troll bailiff and a young lady court stenographer carrying a wad of papers. Tristan, Isa and their daughter were at one table while Tristan’s father was at the second, staring balefully at his son. Large windows let the morning light illuminate the room and two doors allowed entry to the courtroom.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” the troll began. “Court is now in session, so shut your yaps. The honorable Judge Roy S Bean presiding.”
The gnome choked on his spit, nearly passing out, as the judge entered the court. He was an old man with white hair and a short mustache, and he was still buttoning up his black robe as he sat behind his bench. “Sorry I’m late. Didn’t know I was supposed to be here until twenty minutes ago. They made me retire and then show up with more work. Kelp, is that you?”
The gnome managed a weak nod, prompting Juge Sprout to add, “Good to see you still on the job. It’s hardworking people like you who make the legal system work. You don’t get enough respect by half. Now who are we starting with?”
“There was a public disturbance and—” the gnome began.
“Right, this one here.” Judge Sprout held up a sheet of paper from the top of a stack on his bench. “Says a man attacked his son, wife and their daughter at the Atlas Shipping company. No serious injuries, no damage to public or private property, but we need to make sure it doesn’t go farther. Where’s this daughter? Don’t see her.”
Tristan gestured to his infant daughter and said, “This is my daughter, law giver.”
“Law giver?” Judge Sprout asked.
“Isn’t that what your job is called here?” Tristan sounded hesitant.
“We’re called judges. Where are you from, son?”
“Skitherin Kingdom. I apologize for my error. It won’t happen again.”
“You show this old fool respect and not your father?” the old man yelled.
“Pipe down!” the troll bailiff yelled. He scowled and added, “Hey, who are you?”
All eyes turned to see five people with bags of popcorn enter the courtroom and sit at the back. One of them said, “We heard Judge Sprout was back and we wanted to watch. Don’t mind us, we’ll be quiet.”
“Fine, whatever,” Judge Sprout said. He peered at the baby girl and said, “Paperwork said this fracas had something to do with the little lady. Bring her over, I want a look at her.”
“I, umm,” Tristan began, but he relented when the troll brough his daughter to the judge. Sprout held the baby with the ease of a man who’d raised children. The baby looked at him curiously as she tried to figure out who this was and if she should be upset.
“She’s healthy, good weight, plenty active,” Judge Sprout said. Kelp sighed and rolled his eyes. He and the rest of the courtroom totally missed a hired killer try to enter the courtroom with a handful of poison darts, only for four goblins to put a bag over his head and drag him out. Totally oblivious to the danger, Judge Sprout said, “I’ve got a grandbaby her age. Bring her over some time and we’ll let them play together.”
“Sir, the case,” Kelp said.
“We’ll get to it. Now what’s this fight over?”
“My father,” Tristan began.
“My disobedient son abandoned his responsibilities, married against my wishes and fathered this rodent!” Tristan’s father interrupted.
Men and women across the courtroom gasped except for Judge Sprout, whose eyes narrowed and gritted his teeth. Missing the obvious signs of danger, Tristan’s father continued his tirade.
“By Skitherin law he is obliged to serve me without question until death. I arranged a proper marriage for him, which is still possible once this conniving wench is properly dealt with. I demand he return with me at once and this sham of a marriage be recognized as illegal.”
“No!” Tristan cried out.
“Be silent, boy!” his father yelled back.
“That’s plenty enough of that,” Judge Sprout said firmly. When the baby began to whimper, he rocked her and patted her back.
“Law…judge, this isn’t the first time my father has attacked us,” Tristan said. “My family was on our wat to Oceanview Kingdom when he caught up with us and tried to strike us with a shattering star gauntlet. We only just escaped him.”
The stenographer gasped. Kelp lost his expression of exasperation and actually growled. The troll bailiff looked seconds away from violence. Spectators grabbed the sides of their chairs to keep from falling off in shock.
Judge Sprout banged his gavel and then asked Tristan, “Where’s this magic gauntlet?”
“I don’t know, sir. He didn’t have it during the second attack.”
“This is outrageous!” Tristan’s father yelled. “I demand my rights be respected!”
Outside the courthouse, a killer armed with a crossbow climbed onto a narrow ledge of a second story building and took aim at Esa. He had a clear shot through the window and was loading his crossbow when a huge hand of wood and bricks wrapped around his head, muffling his terrified cries as he was dragged down to street level for a vicious and well deserved beating.
“One more outburst like that and I’ll let the bailiff take you out behind the shed,” Judge Sprout said with a voice as harsh as acid.
“Really?” the troll asked. “None of the other judges let me do that.”
“They’re younger and more forgiving,” Judge Sprout replied. “Now as I see it, half of this is a matter of jurisdiction. You’re claiming this youngster go home with you based on Skitherin law. You’re a thousand miles away from where that would matter. Oceanview law says a boy is considered a man and independent at eighteen. How old are you, son?”
“Nineteen,” Tristan told him.
“That settles that. He can do as he pleases.”
Tristan’s father scowled at the ruling. Keeping his tone low, he said, “You would do well to consider your words. I regularly dine with the Minister of Obedience. A word from me to his ears would affect relations between our kingdoms.”
“I don’t care who you eat your supper with,” Judge Sprout replied. He shifted the baby so she rested on his shoulder. “The law doesn’t change if you’re rich or powerful. Your boy said you tried to kill his wife and daughter, but it was outside Oceanview Kingdom, so I can’t rule on that. Pity, but that’s the law.”
More people entered the courtroom to watch the proceedings, two carrying candy and one with a bag of peanuts. The door stayed open just long enough to see three goblins drag a swordsman into a broom closet, but all eyes were on the judge.
“Regarding the validity of this couple’s marriage, that’s an easy one,” Judge Sprout added. “Man’s free to marry who he wants at eighteen, so no problem there. Young lady, are you over eighteen?”
“Eighteen exactly, sir,” she said timidly.
“You went into the marriage of your own free will with no pressure?”
Shocked, she said, “Pressured? Certainly not!”
“Then that’s settled, too. You’re free to go about your business and the fight with the baby’s granddad won’t go on your record.”
“I am no relation to that brat!” Tristan’s father yelled.
Judge Sprout waved a finger at the man and asked, “Bailiff?”
“Aw, sweet!” The crowd of spectators gasped when the troll slapped the old man.
“Now as for you,” Judge Sprout began, “These days I’m not allowed to hold you longer for a crime that only resulted in a few bruises. Used to have more latitude in punishments, but I’m told it’s not right.”
Judge Sprout leaned over his bench and spoke in a murderous tone. “But I can order city guardsmen to watch you while you’re here, and if they see even a hint that you’re planning these good folks harm they’ll arrest you and put you in a deep, dark hole. Oceanview doesn’t allow the death penalty anymore. I flatter myself to think it’s because of how often I used that punishment. That said, guardsmen can use lethal force to protect the innocent if they see fit. Do we understand each other?”
The evil old man gritted his teeth. “We do.”
“Then get out of my court.”
Kelp rolled his eyes and said, “Sir, the baby.”
“What?”
“You didn’t give back the couple’s baby,” Kelp clarified.
“Oh!” Judge Sprout looked down and said, “Little lady fell asleep. Bailiff, hand her back. Paperwork says the next case is about an ogre beating up five men and covering them with tar. Call that case and let’s get this done in time for lunch.”
Tristan and Esa left with their daughter, giving his father fearful glances. The wicked man looked like was tempted to attack again, but he held in his fury until he exited the courthouse to the busy street. Once they were outside, the old man began yelling.
“You disgrace! You hide behind the pathetic laws of weak, undisciplined men! I raised you to be strong! I raised you to obey!”
“There is nothing between us,” Tristan replied. “No love, no warmth, no kindness. I have those with Esa, and I will never abandon her.”
“Then you doom yourself!
There was a long, awkward pause as everyone on the street stared at him in horror. He looked around as if expecting something dramatic to happen. When he was met with silence, he looked confused for a second and stormed away.
Stotle walked up to the young couple and frowned. “I fear we’re going to have to keep an eye on him. Hmm, I’d thought not existing would mean fewer responsibilities, not more.”
“You do exist,” Tristan told the goblin, “a fact I’m happy for. Excuse me, but I didn’t see an outhouse over there when my family and I were brought in.”
“Don’t give it any thought,” Stotle replied.
“Let us out!” a muffled voice called from inside the outhouse.
“No,” Stotle said. “Now I…oh dear my.”
“What’s wrong?” Isa asked.
Stotle pulled a paper off the outhouse’s door. “Whoever placed this paper has done us a disservice.”
‘No secrets! Your leaders are keeping the truth from you! A powerful magic artifact called the Dawn Lantern is hidden within Sunset City, capital of Oceanview Kingdom.’
“A great disservice indeed,” the goblin said.
November 1, 2024
New Goblin Stories 25
Brother Mayfield scrubbed obscenities written in tar off the outer walls of the forest shrine. He’d been at the task for hours and still had much left to do, but the hardest part was yet to begin. He poured a bucket of filthy water onto the grass and went to a nearby stream to refill it, returned to the small marble shrine, took a rag, dropped to his knees and began scrubbing off the inexcusable slurs. He’d been at this task since dawn and wouldn’t finish anytime soon.
“Greetings!” a booming voice called out.
Mayfield turned to see a male ogre march down a forest trail to the shrine. The ogre was big, strong, furry and wore leather pants decorated with spiraling markings. He carried no weapons, and with bulging muscles like those didn’t need them. His musky body odor was noticeable from fifty feet away but wasn’t offensive. The ogre smiled and began, “I’m told there is a road near here leading to…oh.”
“Yes, it’s rather a mess,” Brother Mayfield replied.
The ogre peered into the shrine and saw half the walls were dripping wet and the other half were covered in foul lies. Adding to the disgrace, a life sized statue of Saint Angeline had been knocked off its pedestal. The marble statue was exquisite in its detail and so lifelike it seemed to breathe, and thankfully hadn’t been damaged. The ogre turned to Brother Mayfield and demanded, “Who did this?”
“I don’t know. This is the third time the shrine has been defaced, and each time the damage grows worse. Brotherhood of the Righteous properties have been attacked like this across the kingdom. Whoever commits these outrages does so under the cover of darkness.”
Grumbling, the ogre entered the shrine, picked up the statue and placed it back on the pedestal. He took the rag from Brother Mayfield and scrubbed the offensive words off the walls.
“Thank you for righting the statue,” Brother Mayfield said. “I can finish the task.”
“You did your share before I came. The rest is mine.”
Brother Mayfield stood back as the ogre finished. On one hand he was tired and greatly appreciated the chance to rest. On the other hand this was definitely his task, his fault, and having another fix the damage he’d caused was wrong. The ogre finished quickly and turned to face the monk.
“I am on a quest to prove my strength. Ten tasks I swore I would complete. Preventing such outrages from happening again shall be the first. Someone wicked and cowardly did this and will never do it again. This I vow.”
The ogre bowed to Brother Mayfield and disappeared into the forest. The monk had met a few ogres in his life and knew how seriously they took their vows. The problem was in good hands, but it was the monk’s responsibility to fix. He wondered if this was aid from above but quickly dismissed the idea. He’d earned what was happening to him, and he had to correct it.
With this task finished, Brother Mayfield headed back to his nearest apiary. His bees needed little tending outside of the occasional harvest and moving them to new fields when blooms faded, but he feared for their safety. His enemies had grown so foul as to deface a shrine and would think nothing of smashing hives. It would be risky, but if a man was angry enough he could do much damage.
As of late there were many, many angry men.
Brother Mayfield walked down seldom used forest trails to his hives. It wasn’t a long trip to reach them, and he found fourteen conical hives in a fenced off forest glen. Bees filled the air, returning with pollen and nectar or heading out for more. He’d tended these hives for twenty years, watched them grow and divide into new hives, producing rich harvests of honey and wax. The thought they too might suffer on his account was another source of pain.
“There you are,” a familiar voice called out. The monk spotted Guzzle the goblin sitting next to a fencepost. The lavender skinned goblin got up and joined him. Bees flew around Guzzle, some landing briefly on him before leaving. Tended bees were by nature calm, but these ones seemed to recognize Guzzle as a friend.
“Greetings,” Brother Mayfield replied.
“My smoker broke and I came to see if you had a spare one you could live without, but that look on your face says you’ve got your own problems, and big ones.”
“Direct as always, friend.”
Guzzle laughed. “Friend? You know, you’re the only person to call me that.”
“May the day come when many know you by that name.” Brother Mayfield stopped at the fence and rested his hands on the railings. So tired.
“Is this about those jerks who came after you?”
“It is.”
“I took care of them. Problem solved.”
“That attack was only the beginning. Day after week after month my life has grown worse. I struggle to fix what is broken, and I fail.”
Sounding worried, Guzzle asked, “You wanna talk about it? One bee guy to another.”
Brother Mayfield managed a weak smile. He sat on the grass and pressed his back against the fence. “Very well, one apiarist to another. I was born in the city of Nolod.”
“We’re going that far back?”
“Only briefly. My family was poor in a city where only money could secure your future. From my earliest memories I knew despair and the desperate need to improve my lot, but there were no chances for the poor. The best I could hope for was to spend my life toiling for just enough money to survive.
“In my foolishness I looked for an easy way out and joined a gang, the Red Hand. It seemed like the only way to get ahead. Why obey the rules when those rules ensured a lifetime of poverty? Too late I learned the Red Hand was the source of endless suffering. In their service I helped cause that suffering. I came to regret joining them and I found others in the gang who also yearned to escape but were too fearful to try. I convinced them to leave with me, and together we deserted.”
“The Red Hand is toast,” Guzzle said. “Most of their guys got beat up by Julius Craton. No idea why they even tried to fight him.”
“Wise decisions were never their strong point. My problem is how Staback and his friends in the Red Hand found me. Those papers told thousands of men that I and other members of the Brotherhood of the Righteous came from bad backgrounds. I never hid my past, but neither did I proclaim it. Fewer than one in a hundred Brotherhood members are like myself, struggling to undo the damage we’ve done.”
Brother Mayfield looked at Guzzle and tried to fight back his tears. “The Brotherhood saved me, and I may have doomed it. Those papers convinced many that the Brotherhood of the Righteous is nothing but a gang of criminals. They condemn the brotherhood for accepting sinners and say they are villains for doing so. Every day more and more people denounce us.”
“So you’ve got enemies,” Guzzle said. “I’ve got plenty of them, too. Hey, if you do anything then somebody’s gonna hate you for it. Do nothing and people will still hate you.”
“If only I was hated I could deal with it, but good people in the Brotherhood are suffering because of me. Monks, nuns and priests are insulted on the streets. Rocks are thrown at them. Stores refuse our business. Brotherhood properties are vandalized. Just as bad, people in need of aid are too scared to come to us because they fear the Brotherhood can’t protect them anymore. Lord Bryce has openly declared me a menace and that the Brotherhood should be exiled, and all its properties seized and sold at public auction.”
Guzzle was quiet for a second before he took a sheet of paper and short pencil from his pockets. He wrote on it as he said aloud, “Lord Bryce. Is that spelled with an eye or a why?”
“Why.” Brother Mayfield frowned and asked, “Is that your list of enemies?”
“It’s the new one I started after I forgot who the people were on the old one. This time I’m making sure I get their names right.”
“Lord Bryce denounced me, not you.”
“I’m making it my business. I got my sunny disposition because of guys like him. Besides, bee guys stick together.”
“I have spent twenty years atoning for my actions,” Brother Mayfield continued. “I sought to help those in need, to make this world a better place, if only in some small measure. Twenty years has proven to be not enough. How much longer? How much more must I do to make right what I did wrong? How many more suffer because of my sins? I am at a loss what to do, my friend. No work is enough, no words reach those who hate me.”
“This is why I hurt people and laugh,” Guzzle replied. “Look, most goblins think whatever happened yesterday isn’t worth worrying about since you can’t change it. You screwed up twenty years ago and you fixed it, doing way more than my people would have, so you’re in the clear. Sounds like the people who don’t like you are doing the same stuff that you’re ashamed of doing way back when, so they don’t have a leg to stand on. And this Lord Bryce guy is trying to grab your stuff, not help people who got hurt, so he’s even more of a jerk.”
Guzzle stood up and helped Brother Mayfield to his feet. “You’re going to get through this. It’ll hurt, always does, but keep going and you’ll come out okay in the end. And the guys giving you grief? They’ll get what’s coming to them and then some.”
“Divine justice?”
“I was thinking petty revenge, but you be you.”
The steady buzz of countless bees was soon joined by the breaking of branches and trampling of brush. Brother Mayfield and Guzzle spun around and saw three goblins burst out of the forest and collapse at their feet.
“I didn’t see this coming,” Guzzle told Brother Mayfield. “You?”
Rother Mayfield helped up one of the goblins with gray skin and carrying a wood cane. “No, but somehow it doesn’t surprise me. Good sir, what ails you?”
“Good?” the gray skinned goblin with white hair asked. He brushed his ridiculously long eyebrows from away from his eyes.
“He says that a lot,” Guzzle told the gray goblin and helped up a purple skinned goblin wearing a blue trench coat.
An overweight goblin wearing ragged clothes got up on his own despite his gasps for breath. “I think we lost them.”
“Lost who?” Brother Mayfield asked.
“Idiots with swords,” the gray skinned goblin replied. “Whole bunch of them.”
The color drained from Brother Mayfield’s face. “Not again.”
The gray skinned goblin dusted himself off. “Don’t worry, you’re not who they’re after.”
“Hey, you’re Little Old Dude,” Guzzle told the gray skinned goblin. “You’re famous. Infamously famous.”
“Which is why I’m taking this personally,” Little Old Dude replied. “Decades of mischief and mayhem, training the most dangerous goblins, and these morons are trying to kill me for something I never did. It’s insulting.”
“Trying to kill us,” the overweight goblin corrected him.
Little Old Dude waved his cane. “Details. I had nothing to do with the robbery at Firestorm Keep. Proud of it, but innocent for a change. Somehow these fools think I was behind it because of these stupid papers.”
Fear turned into outrage, and Brother Mayfield demanded, “What papers?”
All four goblins looked surprised by his sudden change of tone. The blue goblin said, “The ones pasted to every wall, wagon and farm animal for five hundred miles. We didn’t pay them much attention until they started talking about us.”
“Papers with writing in blue ink?” the monk asked.
“You’ve seen them?” the blue goblin asked.
“I was destroyed by them!”
“Sensitive topic,” Guzzle told the other goblins.
“We’ve got that in common,” the overweight goblin replied.
“Soldiers from Firestorm Keep chased us instead of whoever pulled off the caper,” Little Old Dude added. “I’m not sure if that was the plan of whoever’s behind this, but a fortune in gold bullion is gone for good, and if those men catch up with us so are we.”
“Firestorm Keep is in the Land of Forthosia,” Brother Mayfield said. “Men have chased you that far?”
“Soldiers from Forthosia were after us for a few hundred miles,” Little Old Dude said. “After we lost them, people who think we’ve got the cash took up the chase so they could kill us and take it. Honestly, what would a goblin want with gold when there’s nowhere we could spend it? It’s idiot thinking like this that makes my life harder.”
“They’re over here!” a distant voice called out.
“Time to leave,” Little Old Dude announced. He shook Brother Mayfield’s hand and said, “Pleasure meeting you and good luck with your own problems.”
“I see them!” another man yelled from the opposite direction.
Scores of armed men poured out of the forest all around them. They carried swords and shields, and they wore leather armor that was befouled in ways Brother Mayfield had trouble understanding. There were stains from dung, tar, five colors of splattered paint, and some men had roadkill glued to them. They smelled far worse than the ogre Brother Mayfield had met, like a mix of spoiled milk, aged manure and rancid grease. But nothing could match the hatred of their expressions, their faces twisted into scowls, grinding what few teeth they still had. They looked half crazed and twitched around their lips.
“You’re going to die!” one yelled. He pointed his rusty and nicked sword at Little Old Dude. “I’ll kill you and every goblin I see from this day on!”
Little Old Dude pulled on his hair. “I don’t have the gold! I never had it! I told you that the first time we met! You, monk, do you see me carrying a hundred pounds of bullion?”
“I don’t think the three of you are strong enough to carry half that much,” Brother Mayfield replied.
“Gee, thanks,” the overweight goblin said.
“I don’t want the gold anymore,” the filthy swordsman said. “I want revenge for everything you did to us for the last two weeks. I’m going to cut you all to pieces, and you know what? I wish I could do it a hundred times, listening to your cries over and over.”
Brother Mayfield listened to this monstrous man and a terrible rage welled up in him. This wretched creature had been chasing innocent goblins, plotting to kill them for treasure when everyone knew goblins didn’t value gold. He was a murderous fool, and while he had clearly suffered for attacking the goblins, Little Old Dude and his fellow goblins hadn’t used lethal force. Men, elves and dwarfs would have done so in a heartbeat. In their own way the goblins had shown mercy, humiliating rather than killing their foes. And this was how that mercy was repaid.
As those horrible men howled and charged, the rage in Brother Mayfield’s heart left him. It was quite surprising. These men were so unstable they were likely going to kill him as well. Why did he feel so calm? And then he felt the certainty there was someone standing behind him. He heard a voice no one else did, and he did exactly what he was told.
“Enough,” Brother Mayfield announced, and hundreds of thousands his bees poured forth from their hives, their buzzing deafening. Guzzle, Little Old Dude and his two fellow goblins drew closer to Brother Mayfield, and the pack of vicious killers cried out in terror as they backed away. The bees formed a thick ring as they circled around the monk and goblins.
“Your lives have been wasted with greed, hatred and stupidity,” Brother Mayfield said, his voice clear even over the sound of his bees. “You have been punished frequently for your failing and learned nothing, changed nothing. This time I suggest you spend your recovery in self reflection.”
“Oh,” the swordsman said. “Oh no!”
The ring of bees shot out, swarming around the swordsmen. They fled screaming, dropping their swords and shields as they tried to slap away the bees. The goblins watched in awe as their enemies ran away from bees, each just under an inch long, but in such numbers they couldn’t be stopped.
“You didn’t tell me he could do that,” Little Old Dude said to Guzzle.
“I think it’s a recent development.”
“Leave their weapons here,” Brother Mayfield ordered. “Let the wood handles rot into dirt and steel blades rust away to powder, that none may ever be hurt by them.”
The bees returned and circled Brother Mayfield before flying to their hives. At peace for the first time in weeks, he gazed out over his hives, and that was when he saw a piece of paper glued to the side of a hive. Why was it here where no one save the monk could see it? Bees were chewing the paper off, but enough of it remained for Brother Mayfield to read.
‘No secrets! Your leaders are hiding the truth from you! Tristan Wayfarer, son of a rich Skitherin merchant family, fled his homeland with nothing but a serving girl and resettled in Oceanview Kingdom. Why has this man abandoned the riches of his homeland? What does he seek to gain among strangers?’
The paper was filled with more insinuations of evil with the flimsiest of evidence. Brother Mayfield had seen many such papers over the last few months, each one urging readers to fear, hate and doubt their neighbors.
“This must stop,” the monk said firmly, “lest those who cannot defend themselves are placed in harm’s way.”
“Greetings!” a booming voice called out.
Mayfield turned to see a male ogre march down a forest trail to the shrine. The ogre was big, strong, furry and wore leather pants decorated with spiraling markings. He carried no weapons, and with bulging muscles like those didn’t need them. His musky body odor was noticeable from fifty feet away but wasn’t offensive. The ogre smiled and began, “I’m told there is a road near here leading to…oh.”
“Yes, it’s rather a mess,” Brother Mayfield replied.
The ogre peered into the shrine and saw half the walls were dripping wet and the other half were covered in foul lies. Adding to the disgrace, a life sized statue of Saint Angeline had been knocked off its pedestal. The marble statue was exquisite in its detail and so lifelike it seemed to breathe, and thankfully hadn’t been damaged. The ogre turned to Brother Mayfield and demanded, “Who did this?”
“I don’t know. This is the third time the shrine has been defaced, and each time the damage grows worse. Brotherhood of the Righteous properties have been attacked like this across the kingdom. Whoever commits these outrages does so under the cover of darkness.”
Grumbling, the ogre entered the shrine, picked up the statue and placed it back on the pedestal. He took the rag from Brother Mayfield and scrubbed the offensive words off the walls.
“Thank you for righting the statue,” Brother Mayfield said. “I can finish the task.”
“You did your share before I came. The rest is mine.”
Brother Mayfield stood back as the ogre finished. On one hand he was tired and greatly appreciated the chance to rest. On the other hand this was definitely his task, his fault, and having another fix the damage he’d caused was wrong. The ogre finished quickly and turned to face the monk.
“I am on a quest to prove my strength. Ten tasks I swore I would complete. Preventing such outrages from happening again shall be the first. Someone wicked and cowardly did this and will never do it again. This I vow.”
The ogre bowed to Brother Mayfield and disappeared into the forest. The monk had met a few ogres in his life and knew how seriously they took their vows. The problem was in good hands, but it was the monk’s responsibility to fix. He wondered if this was aid from above but quickly dismissed the idea. He’d earned what was happening to him, and he had to correct it.
With this task finished, Brother Mayfield headed back to his nearest apiary. His bees needed little tending outside of the occasional harvest and moving them to new fields when blooms faded, but he feared for their safety. His enemies had grown so foul as to deface a shrine and would think nothing of smashing hives. It would be risky, but if a man was angry enough he could do much damage.
As of late there were many, many angry men.
Brother Mayfield walked down seldom used forest trails to his hives. It wasn’t a long trip to reach them, and he found fourteen conical hives in a fenced off forest glen. Bees filled the air, returning with pollen and nectar or heading out for more. He’d tended these hives for twenty years, watched them grow and divide into new hives, producing rich harvests of honey and wax. The thought they too might suffer on his account was another source of pain.
“There you are,” a familiar voice called out. The monk spotted Guzzle the goblin sitting next to a fencepost. The lavender skinned goblin got up and joined him. Bees flew around Guzzle, some landing briefly on him before leaving. Tended bees were by nature calm, but these ones seemed to recognize Guzzle as a friend.
“Greetings,” Brother Mayfield replied.
“My smoker broke and I came to see if you had a spare one you could live without, but that look on your face says you’ve got your own problems, and big ones.”
“Direct as always, friend.”
Guzzle laughed. “Friend? You know, you’re the only person to call me that.”
“May the day come when many know you by that name.” Brother Mayfield stopped at the fence and rested his hands on the railings. So tired.
“Is this about those jerks who came after you?”
“It is.”
“I took care of them. Problem solved.”
“That attack was only the beginning. Day after week after month my life has grown worse. I struggle to fix what is broken, and I fail.”
Sounding worried, Guzzle asked, “You wanna talk about it? One bee guy to another.”
Brother Mayfield managed a weak smile. He sat on the grass and pressed his back against the fence. “Very well, one apiarist to another. I was born in the city of Nolod.”
“We’re going that far back?”
“Only briefly. My family was poor in a city where only money could secure your future. From my earliest memories I knew despair and the desperate need to improve my lot, but there were no chances for the poor. The best I could hope for was to spend my life toiling for just enough money to survive.
“In my foolishness I looked for an easy way out and joined a gang, the Red Hand. It seemed like the only way to get ahead. Why obey the rules when those rules ensured a lifetime of poverty? Too late I learned the Red Hand was the source of endless suffering. In their service I helped cause that suffering. I came to regret joining them and I found others in the gang who also yearned to escape but were too fearful to try. I convinced them to leave with me, and together we deserted.”
“The Red Hand is toast,” Guzzle said. “Most of their guys got beat up by Julius Craton. No idea why they even tried to fight him.”
“Wise decisions were never their strong point. My problem is how Staback and his friends in the Red Hand found me. Those papers told thousands of men that I and other members of the Brotherhood of the Righteous came from bad backgrounds. I never hid my past, but neither did I proclaim it. Fewer than one in a hundred Brotherhood members are like myself, struggling to undo the damage we’ve done.”
Brother Mayfield looked at Guzzle and tried to fight back his tears. “The Brotherhood saved me, and I may have doomed it. Those papers convinced many that the Brotherhood of the Righteous is nothing but a gang of criminals. They condemn the brotherhood for accepting sinners and say they are villains for doing so. Every day more and more people denounce us.”
“So you’ve got enemies,” Guzzle said. “I’ve got plenty of them, too. Hey, if you do anything then somebody’s gonna hate you for it. Do nothing and people will still hate you.”
“If only I was hated I could deal with it, but good people in the Brotherhood are suffering because of me. Monks, nuns and priests are insulted on the streets. Rocks are thrown at them. Stores refuse our business. Brotherhood properties are vandalized. Just as bad, people in need of aid are too scared to come to us because they fear the Brotherhood can’t protect them anymore. Lord Bryce has openly declared me a menace and that the Brotherhood should be exiled, and all its properties seized and sold at public auction.”
Guzzle was quiet for a second before he took a sheet of paper and short pencil from his pockets. He wrote on it as he said aloud, “Lord Bryce. Is that spelled with an eye or a why?”
“Why.” Brother Mayfield frowned and asked, “Is that your list of enemies?”
“It’s the new one I started after I forgot who the people were on the old one. This time I’m making sure I get their names right.”
“Lord Bryce denounced me, not you.”
“I’m making it my business. I got my sunny disposition because of guys like him. Besides, bee guys stick together.”
“I have spent twenty years atoning for my actions,” Brother Mayfield continued. “I sought to help those in need, to make this world a better place, if only in some small measure. Twenty years has proven to be not enough. How much longer? How much more must I do to make right what I did wrong? How many more suffer because of my sins? I am at a loss what to do, my friend. No work is enough, no words reach those who hate me.”
“This is why I hurt people and laugh,” Guzzle replied. “Look, most goblins think whatever happened yesterday isn’t worth worrying about since you can’t change it. You screwed up twenty years ago and you fixed it, doing way more than my people would have, so you’re in the clear. Sounds like the people who don’t like you are doing the same stuff that you’re ashamed of doing way back when, so they don’t have a leg to stand on. And this Lord Bryce guy is trying to grab your stuff, not help people who got hurt, so he’s even more of a jerk.”
Guzzle stood up and helped Brother Mayfield to his feet. “You’re going to get through this. It’ll hurt, always does, but keep going and you’ll come out okay in the end. And the guys giving you grief? They’ll get what’s coming to them and then some.”
“Divine justice?”
“I was thinking petty revenge, but you be you.”
The steady buzz of countless bees was soon joined by the breaking of branches and trampling of brush. Brother Mayfield and Guzzle spun around and saw three goblins burst out of the forest and collapse at their feet.
“I didn’t see this coming,” Guzzle told Brother Mayfield. “You?”
Rother Mayfield helped up one of the goblins with gray skin and carrying a wood cane. “No, but somehow it doesn’t surprise me. Good sir, what ails you?”
“Good?” the gray skinned goblin with white hair asked. He brushed his ridiculously long eyebrows from away from his eyes.
“He says that a lot,” Guzzle told the gray goblin and helped up a purple skinned goblin wearing a blue trench coat.
An overweight goblin wearing ragged clothes got up on his own despite his gasps for breath. “I think we lost them.”
“Lost who?” Brother Mayfield asked.
“Idiots with swords,” the gray skinned goblin replied. “Whole bunch of them.”
The color drained from Brother Mayfield’s face. “Not again.”
The gray skinned goblin dusted himself off. “Don’t worry, you’re not who they’re after.”
“Hey, you’re Little Old Dude,” Guzzle told the gray skinned goblin. “You’re famous. Infamously famous.”
“Which is why I’m taking this personally,” Little Old Dude replied. “Decades of mischief and mayhem, training the most dangerous goblins, and these morons are trying to kill me for something I never did. It’s insulting.”
“Trying to kill us,” the overweight goblin corrected him.
Little Old Dude waved his cane. “Details. I had nothing to do with the robbery at Firestorm Keep. Proud of it, but innocent for a change. Somehow these fools think I was behind it because of these stupid papers.”
Fear turned into outrage, and Brother Mayfield demanded, “What papers?”
All four goblins looked surprised by his sudden change of tone. The blue goblin said, “The ones pasted to every wall, wagon and farm animal for five hundred miles. We didn’t pay them much attention until they started talking about us.”
“Papers with writing in blue ink?” the monk asked.
“You’ve seen them?” the blue goblin asked.
“I was destroyed by them!”
“Sensitive topic,” Guzzle told the other goblins.
“We’ve got that in common,” the overweight goblin replied.
“Soldiers from Firestorm Keep chased us instead of whoever pulled off the caper,” Little Old Dude added. “I’m not sure if that was the plan of whoever’s behind this, but a fortune in gold bullion is gone for good, and if those men catch up with us so are we.”
“Firestorm Keep is in the Land of Forthosia,” Brother Mayfield said. “Men have chased you that far?”
“Soldiers from Forthosia were after us for a few hundred miles,” Little Old Dude said. “After we lost them, people who think we’ve got the cash took up the chase so they could kill us and take it. Honestly, what would a goblin want with gold when there’s nowhere we could spend it? It’s idiot thinking like this that makes my life harder.”
“They’re over here!” a distant voice called out.
“Time to leave,” Little Old Dude announced. He shook Brother Mayfield’s hand and said, “Pleasure meeting you and good luck with your own problems.”
“I see them!” another man yelled from the opposite direction.
Scores of armed men poured out of the forest all around them. They carried swords and shields, and they wore leather armor that was befouled in ways Brother Mayfield had trouble understanding. There were stains from dung, tar, five colors of splattered paint, and some men had roadkill glued to them. They smelled far worse than the ogre Brother Mayfield had met, like a mix of spoiled milk, aged manure and rancid grease. But nothing could match the hatred of their expressions, their faces twisted into scowls, grinding what few teeth they still had. They looked half crazed and twitched around their lips.
“You’re going to die!” one yelled. He pointed his rusty and nicked sword at Little Old Dude. “I’ll kill you and every goblin I see from this day on!”
Little Old Dude pulled on his hair. “I don’t have the gold! I never had it! I told you that the first time we met! You, monk, do you see me carrying a hundred pounds of bullion?”
“I don’t think the three of you are strong enough to carry half that much,” Brother Mayfield replied.
“Gee, thanks,” the overweight goblin said.
“I don’t want the gold anymore,” the filthy swordsman said. “I want revenge for everything you did to us for the last two weeks. I’m going to cut you all to pieces, and you know what? I wish I could do it a hundred times, listening to your cries over and over.”
Brother Mayfield listened to this monstrous man and a terrible rage welled up in him. This wretched creature had been chasing innocent goblins, plotting to kill them for treasure when everyone knew goblins didn’t value gold. He was a murderous fool, and while he had clearly suffered for attacking the goblins, Little Old Dude and his fellow goblins hadn’t used lethal force. Men, elves and dwarfs would have done so in a heartbeat. In their own way the goblins had shown mercy, humiliating rather than killing their foes. And this was how that mercy was repaid.
As those horrible men howled and charged, the rage in Brother Mayfield’s heart left him. It was quite surprising. These men were so unstable they were likely going to kill him as well. Why did he feel so calm? And then he felt the certainty there was someone standing behind him. He heard a voice no one else did, and he did exactly what he was told.
“Enough,” Brother Mayfield announced, and hundreds of thousands his bees poured forth from their hives, their buzzing deafening. Guzzle, Little Old Dude and his two fellow goblins drew closer to Brother Mayfield, and the pack of vicious killers cried out in terror as they backed away. The bees formed a thick ring as they circled around the monk and goblins.
“Your lives have been wasted with greed, hatred and stupidity,” Brother Mayfield said, his voice clear even over the sound of his bees. “You have been punished frequently for your failing and learned nothing, changed nothing. This time I suggest you spend your recovery in self reflection.”
“Oh,” the swordsman said. “Oh no!”
The ring of bees shot out, swarming around the swordsmen. They fled screaming, dropping their swords and shields as they tried to slap away the bees. The goblins watched in awe as their enemies ran away from bees, each just under an inch long, but in such numbers they couldn’t be stopped.
“You didn’t tell me he could do that,” Little Old Dude said to Guzzle.
“I think it’s a recent development.”
“Leave their weapons here,” Brother Mayfield ordered. “Let the wood handles rot into dirt and steel blades rust away to powder, that none may ever be hurt by them.”
The bees returned and circled Brother Mayfield before flying to their hives. At peace for the first time in weeks, he gazed out over his hives, and that was when he saw a piece of paper glued to the side of a hive. Why was it here where no one save the monk could see it? Bees were chewing the paper off, but enough of it remained for Brother Mayfield to read.
‘No secrets! Your leaders are hiding the truth from you! Tristan Wayfarer, son of a rich Skitherin merchant family, fled his homeland with nothing but a serving girl and resettled in Oceanview Kingdom. Why has this man abandoned the riches of his homeland? What does he seek to gain among strangers?’
The paper was filled with more insinuations of evil with the flimsiest of evidence. Brother Mayfield had seen many such papers over the last few months, each one urging readers to fear, hate and doubt their neighbors.
“This must stop,” the monk said firmly, “lest those who cannot defend themselves are placed in harm’s way.”
October 22, 2024
New Goblin Stories 24
It was early morning as Brody, Habbly and Ibwibble stood outside a small farm shed near Nolod, waiting patiently for things to get started. Waiting wasn’t a goblin strong point, as they were apt to wander off after anything that caught their attention, but these three were abnormally focused for their kind. Still there was only so much you could expect from goblins, and their conversation had drifted into total insanity.
“I’m glad we’re out of those black outfits,” Brody said.
“Yeah, they’re fashion nightmares,” Ibwibble agreed. “We’re lucky nobody mistook us for ninjas and tried to shoot us.”
Brody frowned. “That’s a normal reaction to seeing a ninja?”
“It’s unfair,” Ibwibble admitted, “but it only takes one ninja to mess things up for everybody. A merchant ship shows up with a ninja hiding in the cargo hold, he gets out and then it’s nonstop ninja magic and throwing stars. If you don’t roust them out the second they set foot in your city soon they’re everywhere, building dojos, having late night gravity defying martial arts battles with other ninja clans, and leaving piles of droppings everywhere.”
“You’re making this up.”
Ibwibble crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been in eight cities that have laws saying shoot all ninjas. Nolod is one of them, but it’s too late. The first ninja showed up eight months ago and now they’ve got five ninja clans.”
“That’s a massive overpopulation,” Habbly said.
“They’ll fight it out until there’s only one clan, which will have a schism and break into two,” Ibwibble said. He paused and looked more closely at Habbly. “Why are you carrying a mop?”
“The way things are going I figured I needed a weapon, and I’ve had good luck with mops.”
“You didn’t have one during our stakeout,” Brody pointed out.
“You don’t bring a mop on a stakeout,” Habbly said. “It’s common knowledge.”
“That explains why I never heard it,” Brody replied. “Somehow I only learn uncommon knowledge. Where is the secret entrance to a pocket dimension, who leads the Night Knights, what the Hokey Pokey is really all about. It never helped me.”
Habbly glanced at the shed. “Mighty quiet in there. I was expecting yelling, or at least quality groveling from our prisoner.”
“Julius isn’t talking to the guy,” Brody explained. “He’s just standing there, staring at him. Not sure if he’s waiting to see if we get more prisoners before interrogating them or if this is part of the interrogation.”
“Is this normal for him?” Habbly asked.
“Don’t know,” Brody replied. “Usually he hands guys like this over to the authorities and lets them deal with it, but that’s when he doesn’t need them to answer questions. Kinda worried this could get ugly.”
“You don’t think he’d…you know.” Habbly asked hesitantly.
“Julius isn’t like that. I’m worried the prisoners are some kind of revolutionaries. He and I ran into guys like that not long ago. You know, die rather than think things through.”
“I’ve never understood that about humans,” Ibwibble said. “Honestly, some days they don’t have the brains God gave to soap bubbles.”
All three tensed when they heard rustling in the woods near the shed, but it was only the farm owner, an older man named Richard. “How are things going?”
“Still waiting,” Brody told him.
“Is this going to take much longer? I mean, I don’t mind Julius using my shed, what with him being a hero and all, but I need a shovel from in there.”
“I’ll get it.” Brody opened the shed’s door and grabbed the farmer’s shovel.
“Send help!” the prisoner yelled.
“Not happening.” Brody shut the door and handed the shovel over. Richard nodded and left, bumping into Bub and his tactical assault squad arriving with three more prisoners.
“Shimmering Swords of Solace?” one of Bub’s goblins asked.
“No.” Bub left the bound and gagged men at Ibwibble’s feet. “There was an older guy with these losers but he got away. I think he was a co-leader or second in command. The young one is called Anton and he’s a wizard. More of a threat to himself than anyone else.”
“Hmph!” the gagged young man said.
“Zip it, Merlin,” Bub told the wizard. “The next one likes alchemic weapons including firebombs. We disarmed him. The last one is totally useless. We think he’s freeloading off the ones who actually do something.”
“Mmm,” their last prisoner whimpered.
“The truth hurts,” Bub told him. “That’s our end of the deal completed. We’ll be in Nolod for a while longer if you have another job, but I am not working with that idiot Splat ever again.”
“You did good,” Ibwibble told Bub. “Are any of them tax collectors?”
“I doubt it,” Bub said as he led his goblins away. “They’re too useless for that.”
“Right, let’s get them inside,” Ibwibble said. He, Habbly and Brody dragged their prisoners into the shed, where they found the man they’d already captured last night and Julius Craton.
“Take off the wizard’s gag,” Julius ordered. Brody pulled the gag off, and the wizard glared at the goblin. Julius tapped the wizard with his foot to get his attention. “My name is Julius Craton of the Guild of Heroes. Hundreds of innocent people were almost killed because of you. Thousands of guilders worth of property was destroyed. Bad as it was, it was nearly much, much worse.
“I need you to understand the harm you’ve done, not just in that incident but across multiple kingdoms. The information you’ve spread has ruined people’s reputations, closed businesses and resulted in serious injuries. Your victims number in the thousands. Tonight proved you got that information by stealing it. You’re thieves.”
“We’re freeing the people from secrets and lies!’ Anton yelled. “You and the other so-called leaders have blinded us for generations, holding back the truth while you profit and live better than the common man. That’s over. We’re opening the eyes of the oppressed, showing them how corrupt their leaders are. Your days are numbered, oppressor. Your kind will be cast down by the masses!”
“Excuse me, I need a rake,” Richard asked from outside the shed.
Ibwibble grabbed a rake and handed it to the farmer.
“The irony of a secret society being against secrets isn’t lost on me,” Julius countered. “You live in the shadows, nameless and faceless up until today while criticizing others for holding back private information.”
“No, this is the leaf rake,” Richard said. “I need the bow rake.”
“How many rakes does this guy have?” Brody asked.
“I count five,” Habbly replied.
Julius held up a handful of leaflets covered in writing. “I’ve seen the secrets you exposed. Most of this is harmless or personal matters. It’s gossip mongering.”
“The people deserve to know!” Anton yelled.
“The private business dealings of a vineyard?” Brody asked. “That some mayor has gambling debts? This isn’t exposing injustices, it’s junk.”
Anton’s defiance melted. “We’re working on it.”
“Yes, by stealing mail from an astronomer,” Julius replied.
Red faced, Anton replied, “We thought she was…you know.”
“In a relationship with a man?” Julius asked.
“She’s allowed to be in love! There’s no reason she should be ashamed of that.”
Brody tugged on Julius’ leg. “I think he meant in a relationship with a married man.”
Julius glared at Anton, who said, “She’s a nymph. Everyone knows what they’re like.”
Julius stared at Anton for a second before grabbing him by the collar, lifting him up and slamming him into the nearest wall. “No, I don’t know what they’re all like! I don’t judge an entire race by what some of their members do! And for someone claiming to represent the truth, you’re awfully confident making prejudice statements with no evidence to back them up!”
“Negative evidence,” Brody said. Everyone looked at him, and he explained, “Her letters are as boring as dry toast.”
“We, ah, just found that out,” Anton said nervously. “We weren’t going to print any of that.”
Julius let Anton slid back to the floor. “Four kingdoms have posted bounties on the people posting your scandal rags. I’m going to turn you over to one of them and you’ll face justice for your crimes. None of these kingdoms have the death penalty, but you spend years doing socially useful labor. Nothing you can do or say will change that fact.
“What you can do is determine whether I testify that you’re repentant and helped clean up the mess you made. That goes a long way to decide how long you’re imprisoned and what the conditions will be like. Not everyone is going to make this offer, and it’s only good for today. The choice is yours.”
Anton looked down at the floor, and when he stared into Julius’ eyes the defiance was back in full force. “There is no choice. I won’t help you undo the good we’ve done. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The Truth Seekers are divided into independent cells. The second other cell leaders learn we were captured, they’ll change all their plans, abandon their safe houses and continue their jobs. What little we knew about them will be useless. You stopped us, but the movement will go on.”
“Chuckles here can’t have too many people on board with his brand of stupid,” Ibwibble said. “I figure we’ve got at most thirty more idiots to round up.”
“It wasn’t easy finding this bunch,” Brody said. “We’ll need all year to get them.”
“My schedule is wide open,” Julius replied, “and if that time and effort means one more city doesn’t face destruction then it’s worth the time.”
“What are you talking about, face destruction?” Anton asked.
Julius was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door. Richard said, “Don’t mean to intrude, but I think we may have a problem.”
Julius and the goblins headed outside, where Richard pointed at the sky. A large white cloud was moving against the wind, pushing aside other clouds in its way and heading straight for them.
“Incoming wizard, and I don’t think he’s with Anton and his circus of idiots,” Ibwibble said.
“Why not?” Habbly asked.
“You need gobs of power to make a magic cloud that big,” Ibwibble replied. “If they had anyone that strong, why didn’t they use him a long time ago? Nah, that’s somebody else who wants Anton’s hide.”
“Run,” Julius told Richard. The farmer ran for his life as Julius and his friends spread out. “I’ve no idea who this is. Diplomacy might work, so watch your words.”
The cloud descended and began to spiral, forming a whirlwind twenty feet across. An old man wearing blue and white robes and carrying a wood staff stepped out of the cloud, as did a goblin with orange hair and red skin. The whirlwind lifted into the sky but didn’t weaken as the man marched to the farm shed.
“Pardon our interruption,” the old man began. “I am Archibald Scrace, member of the Archivists. This is Yips, who I have been unable to dissuade from following me.”
“Got any aardvarks?” Yips asked.
“Sorry, fresh out,” Ibwibble told him.
“You have in your custody four young men who were once members of my order,” Archibald continued. “They have broken their sacred vows and done considerable damage. I have come to collect them and ensure they do no further harm.”
They heard Anton call out from inside the shed, “How did you find me, old man?”
“Your defensive spells against scrying must be renewed frequently, an impossible task when you are tied up. Those spells failed early this morning, and I was able to find you.” Archibald looked like a peaceful and contemplative man under most circumstances, but there was a hardness to his voice when he added, “There is a high price to pay for the oaths you broke. I mean to see you pay in full.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t hand them over,” Julius said. “These men call themselves Truth Seekers, and there are more of them. I need answers from them to stop their damage from spreading further, and local authorities have an equal right to see them face justice.”
“Can we agree to share them?” Brody asked. “You take two, we take two and everyone walks away happy.”
“The information they know about the Archivists is dangerous,” Archibald replied. “I cannot risk them revealing those secrets to secure their freedom. Countless lives and treasured knowledge are at risk.”
“Secrets?” Anton yelled. “You mean like—”
Anton’s words turned into a stream of gibberish meaningless in every language. The young wizard laughed and said, “Oh, your precious secrets are safe, you fraud. The spells keeping us from ever telling another soul what you’ve learned are too strong for us to break.”
“But not too strong for others to break,” Archibald replied. “The danger remains. Forgive me, sir, but I must insist on reclaiming these traitors to our order. I’m aware of your name and reputation, Julius Craton, and that of your goblin associates. I wish you no harm, especially after the good you’ve done, but I am leaving with Anton and his fellow turncoats.”
Yips gazed into the sky and said, “That’s no aardvark.”
“Eh?” Archibald asked. Yips pointed at a granite pillar of rock fifty feet tall flying through the sky toward them. Archibald cast a spell and glowing words appeared in front of them. He scowled and said, “That’s Dominus Quake of the Inspired, a wizard of the foulest kind. He must not take Anton. Everyone, prepare yourself.”
The pillar picked up speed and rammed point first into the soft ground. It shattered and fragments of granite flew across the landscape, but they suddenly stopped and rotated around the man who’d hidden inside the pillar. He wore a mix of white and black clothes, with a wood staff in his right hand and glowing pebbles rotating around his left hand. The left side of his face was covered in an expensive silver mask molded to look like a twin to the handsome right side of his face.
“I do hope you won’t mind me being fashionably late, but I only sensed the stripling wizard this morning,” Dominus said casually. “I’ve been looking for him and his fellows for weeks. Dreadfully annoying. Give him to me or I’ll grind your bones into powder.”
“Never,” Archibald said.
Julius drew his sword Sworn Doom. “Brody, untie the prisoners and get them out of here.”
“But we just caught them!”
“I can’t defend them and fight this wizard at the same time. We let them go, we watch them die or we let that monster take them.”
“Too much talking,” Dominus said. “You die now.”
Dominus uttered arcane words and made strange gestures, casting a spell that made the shattered rocks rotating around him shoot forward, their razor sharp edges slicing through tall grass and small trees. The stony cloud of death had nearly reached them when Archibald ordered the whirlwind he’d created to drop from the sky. It sucked up the rocks and spat them back at Dominus, but the whirlwind broke apart under the effort
“Clever boy,” Dominus said. A wave of his hand scattered the rocks before they hit him. “I didn’t think you a threat, bookworm.”
Julius charged Dominus, covering the distance between them in seconds. Dominus caused the ground under Julius’ feet to rise ten feet. Julius kept his balance and jumped down at Dominus. Sworn Doom glowed and yelled, “Doom!”
Another pillar of rock and earth rose up in front of Dominus to shield him from the blade. Dominus’ snide smirk disappeared when Sworn Doom hacked through the pillar. Dominus raised his staff, and it glowed nearly as bright as Sworn Doom before the ground erupted around him like an explosion. The blast threw Julius back but didn’t do enough damage to stop him, and he rose to his feet.
Brody ran to the shed to save their prisoners. Anton and the other three men screamed in abject terror as they struggled against their bonds. Brody had nearly reached them when Dominus cast another spell. A wall of dirt rose up around the shed and encased it.
“No one’s leaving,” Dominus taunted. “No one’s surviving. You all just die.”
Archibald began chanting to cast his own spell. There was no immediate effect, and Dominus laughed. “Running out of power so soon, fool? I was almost convinced you-Betty stitched a border, yellow, red then white. If everything’s in order, everything’s all right. Betty stitched a-curse you, you-border, yellow, red then white.”
“What’s happening?” Brody asked.
“He’s messing with his head,” Habbly told him. “Dominus can’t cast a spell when the Archivist is forcing him to say gibberish.”
Julius recovered quickly and charged Dominus. The evil wizard dodged Julius’ sword swing, but the hero still managed to ram his right shoulder into Dominus’ stomachs and knock him over. Julius raised his sword for a swing that would kill the evil wizard, but Dominus pointed his left hand and the tiny glowing pebbles shot out and hit Julius in the chest. Two of the tiny rocks hit and exploded, throwing Julius back and cutting deep grooves in his chest plate.
“Betty stitched a border,” Dominus said as he stood up and aimed his left hand at Archibald. Pebbles around his hand flew as fast as arrows, too fast for the old man to avoid. Yips grabbed Archibald and pulled him away, saving his life but breaking his concentration. Dominus scowled and yelled, “Those tremor stones cost me a hundred gold coins, and I wasted them on an idiot like you! You’ll die for that, paper pusher.”
Dominus cast another spell and rocks flew together to form a crude stone man twenty feet tall. The stone man marched toward Julius while the evil wizard turned his attention toward Archibald. “You’re so pathetic you needed a goblin to save you. At least two of those wretched creatures were smart enough to run, unlike you. I’ll—”
Habbly and Ibwibble had run, but only into dense brush that covered their approach to Dominus. The pair leapt from the grass and ran the last few feet to the evil wizard. Dominus looked shocked, and then screamed in pain when Habbly struck him in the shins with his mop handle. Ibwibble grabbed onto Dominus’ staff and chewed on it, gnawing out a chunk of wood and spitting it out. Dominus shoved Ibwibble off and screamed a spell.
The ground shook and Dominus rose into the sky on a thirty foot tall pillar of dirt and rocks. He had a perfect view of the battlefield, where Julius hacked a leg off the stone man attacking him. Archibald had recovered and began chanting again. Then Dominus saw Brody dig through the dirt that entombed the farm shed and open the door.
“No one claims my prize!” Dominus howled. The pillar of rocks and dirt bet over to form an arch and set him next to the shed. A wave of his hand made the dirt around the shed convulse and rip the small building open to reveal the screaming prisoners. He shoved Brody aside and grabbed Anton by the throat with his right hand. “You know where the Dawn Lanter is! Tell me or I’ll bury you fifty feet underground!”
Anton’s expression changed from terror to confusion. “I, I have no idea.”
“Liar!” Dominus pulled a sheet of paper from a pocket with his left hand and shoved it into Anton’s face. “You tempt me with hints! Where it was weeks ago! Places it might have gone and people who might have seen it! No more of these infuriating clues! Where is it right now? Tell me before I—Betty stitched a border, yellow, red then white. If everything’s in—not this again!”
Dominus dropped Anton and spun around. He saw Archibald chanting again and Julius hacking an arm off the stone man. The stone man struggled to fight with two limbs missing, and a savage blow to its head ended the battle. With it dead, if it had ever truly been alive, Julius ran at Dominus with Habbly, Ibwibble and Yips following him. Dominus struggled to cast a spell and gave up in frustration when his arcane words of power were replaced with nonsensical gibberish. Instead the evil wizard pulled a glittering wand from a pocket.
“No!” Dominus spun around at the sharp cry as Brody grabbed the wand with both hands. Neither the goblin or the wizard were strong enough to win this struggle, but Brody didn’t have to win. Every second brought Julius closer, and if Dominus couldn’t cast spells or use his wand there was nothing the evil wizard could do to fight back. Snarling, Dominus let go of the wand and ran off.
“Betty stitched a border!” Dominus yelled as he fled. He went another ten feet before shouting, “Yellow, red then—curse you, you ignorant fool! You delay the inevitable, nothing more!”
Julius had nearly caught up with Dominus when the evil wizard cast a spell and caused rocks to form a stone pillar around him. The pillar shot into the sky and flew off, leaving Julius, Archibald and the goblins victorious.
“His brain got better fast,” Habby said.
Archibald walked up alongside the goblin and said, “My confusion spell has a short range. Once he was far enough away, he was free of it. We should count ourselves lucky he didn’t bring allies, or we would surely have died.”
“Cheerful, aren’t you?” Ibwibble said. He coughed up a piece of Dominus’ staff and added, “What’s he want the lantern for? And what made him think whatshisface had it? That twerp is lucky he has socks.”
Brody picked up a sheet of paper off the ground and held it up for the others to see. “He dropped this when he ran off. ‘It says no secrets! Your leaders are keeping the truth from you!”
“That’s a lot of exclamation points,” Yips said as he rejoined Archibald. “Can I have one?”
Brody kept reading aloud, saying, “The Archivists are seeking the Dawn Lantern, one of the fifty most powerful magic items on Other Place. They believe it to be in Ocean View Kingdom, Forthosia or in the city states of Nolod or Cronsword.”
“I didn’t write that,” Anton said. He sounded stunned. “There were rumors, but we couldn’t confirm anything. It was hearsay. I never wrote that! It’s a lie!”
“I’m glad we’re out of those black outfits,” Brody said.
“Yeah, they’re fashion nightmares,” Ibwibble agreed. “We’re lucky nobody mistook us for ninjas and tried to shoot us.”
Brody frowned. “That’s a normal reaction to seeing a ninja?”
“It’s unfair,” Ibwibble admitted, “but it only takes one ninja to mess things up for everybody. A merchant ship shows up with a ninja hiding in the cargo hold, he gets out and then it’s nonstop ninja magic and throwing stars. If you don’t roust them out the second they set foot in your city soon they’re everywhere, building dojos, having late night gravity defying martial arts battles with other ninja clans, and leaving piles of droppings everywhere.”
“You’re making this up.”
Ibwibble crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been in eight cities that have laws saying shoot all ninjas. Nolod is one of them, but it’s too late. The first ninja showed up eight months ago and now they’ve got five ninja clans.”
“That’s a massive overpopulation,” Habbly said.
“They’ll fight it out until there’s only one clan, which will have a schism and break into two,” Ibwibble said. He paused and looked more closely at Habbly. “Why are you carrying a mop?”
“The way things are going I figured I needed a weapon, and I’ve had good luck with mops.”
“You didn’t have one during our stakeout,” Brody pointed out.
“You don’t bring a mop on a stakeout,” Habbly said. “It’s common knowledge.”
“That explains why I never heard it,” Brody replied. “Somehow I only learn uncommon knowledge. Where is the secret entrance to a pocket dimension, who leads the Night Knights, what the Hokey Pokey is really all about. It never helped me.”
Habbly glanced at the shed. “Mighty quiet in there. I was expecting yelling, or at least quality groveling from our prisoner.”
“Julius isn’t talking to the guy,” Brody explained. “He’s just standing there, staring at him. Not sure if he’s waiting to see if we get more prisoners before interrogating them or if this is part of the interrogation.”
“Is this normal for him?” Habbly asked.
“Don’t know,” Brody replied. “Usually he hands guys like this over to the authorities and lets them deal with it, but that’s when he doesn’t need them to answer questions. Kinda worried this could get ugly.”
“You don’t think he’d…you know.” Habbly asked hesitantly.
“Julius isn’t like that. I’m worried the prisoners are some kind of revolutionaries. He and I ran into guys like that not long ago. You know, die rather than think things through.”
“I’ve never understood that about humans,” Ibwibble said. “Honestly, some days they don’t have the brains God gave to soap bubbles.”
All three tensed when they heard rustling in the woods near the shed, but it was only the farm owner, an older man named Richard. “How are things going?”
“Still waiting,” Brody told him.
“Is this going to take much longer? I mean, I don’t mind Julius using my shed, what with him being a hero and all, but I need a shovel from in there.”
“I’ll get it.” Brody opened the shed’s door and grabbed the farmer’s shovel.
“Send help!” the prisoner yelled.
“Not happening.” Brody shut the door and handed the shovel over. Richard nodded and left, bumping into Bub and his tactical assault squad arriving with three more prisoners.
“Shimmering Swords of Solace?” one of Bub’s goblins asked.
“No.” Bub left the bound and gagged men at Ibwibble’s feet. “There was an older guy with these losers but he got away. I think he was a co-leader or second in command. The young one is called Anton and he’s a wizard. More of a threat to himself than anyone else.”
“Hmph!” the gagged young man said.
“Zip it, Merlin,” Bub told the wizard. “The next one likes alchemic weapons including firebombs. We disarmed him. The last one is totally useless. We think he’s freeloading off the ones who actually do something.”
“Mmm,” their last prisoner whimpered.
“The truth hurts,” Bub told him. “That’s our end of the deal completed. We’ll be in Nolod for a while longer if you have another job, but I am not working with that idiot Splat ever again.”
“You did good,” Ibwibble told Bub. “Are any of them tax collectors?”
“I doubt it,” Bub said as he led his goblins away. “They’re too useless for that.”
“Right, let’s get them inside,” Ibwibble said. He, Habbly and Brody dragged their prisoners into the shed, where they found the man they’d already captured last night and Julius Craton.
“Take off the wizard’s gag,” Julius ordered. Brody pulled the gag off, and the wizard glared at the goblin. Julius tapped the wizard with his foot to get his attention. “My name is Julius Craton of the Guild of Heroes. Hundreds of innocent people were almost killed because of you. Thousands of guilders worth of property was destroyed. Bad as it was, it was nearly much, much worse.
“I need you to understand the harm you’ve done, not just in that incident but across multiple kingdoms. The information you’ve spread has ruined people’s reputations, closed businesses and resulted in serious injuries. Your victims number in the thousands. Tonight proved you got that information by stealing it. You’re thieves.”
“We’re freeing the people from secrets and lies!’ Anton yelled. “You and the other so-called leaders have blinded us for generations, holding back the truth while you profit and live better than the common man. That’s over. We’re opening the eyes of the oppressed, showing them how corrupt their leaders are. Your days are numbered, oppressor. Your kind will be cast down by the masses!”
“Excuse me, I need a rake,” Richard asked from outside the shed.
Ibwibble grabbed a rake and handed it to the farmer.
“The irony of a secret society being against secrets isn’t lost on me,” Julius countered. “You live in the shadows, nameless and faceless up until today while criticizing others for holding back private information.”
“No, this is the leaf rake,” Richard said. “I need the bow rake.”
“How many rakes does this guy have?” Brody asked.
“I count five,” Habbly replied.
Julius held up a handful of leaflets covered in writing. “I’ve seen the secrets you exposed. Most of this is harmless or personal matters. It’s gossip mongering.”
“The people deserve to know!” Anton yelled.
“The private business dealings of a vineyard?” Brody asked. “That some mayor has gambling debts? This isn’t exposing injustices, it’s junk.”
Anton’s defiance melted. “We’re working on it.”
“Yes, by stealing mail from an astronomer,” Julius replied.
Red faced, Anton replied, “We thought she was…you know.”
“In a relationship with a man?” Julius asked.
“She’s allowed to be in love! There’s no reason she should be ashamed of that.”
Brody tugged on Julius’ leg. “I think he meant in a relationship with a married man.”
Julius glared at Anton, who said, “She’s a nymph. Everyone knows what they’re like.”
Julius stared at Anton for a second before grabbing him by the collar, lifting him up and slamming him into the nearest wall. “No, I don’t know what they’re all like! I don’t judge an entire race by what some of their members do! And for someone claiming to represent the truth, you’re awfully confident making prejudice statements with no evidence to back them up!”
“Negative evidence,” Brody said. Everyone looked at him, and he explained, “Her letters are as boring as dry toast.”
“We, ah, just found that out,” Anton said nervously. “We weren’t going to print any of that.”
Julius let Anton slid back to the floor. “Four kingdoms have posted bounties on the people posting your scandal rags. I’m going to turn you over to one of them and you’ll face justice for your crimes. None of these kingdoms have the death penalty, but you spend years doing socially useful labor. Nothing you can do or say will change that fact.
“What you can do is determine whether I testify that you’re repentant and helped clean up the mess you made. That goes a long way to decide how long you’re imprisoned and what the conditions will be like. Not everyone is going to make this offer, and it’s only good for today. The choice is yours.”
Anton looked down at the floor, and when he stared into Julius’ eyes the defiance was back in full force. “There is no choice. I won’t help you undo the good we’ve done. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The Truth Seekers are divided into independent cells. The second other cell leaders learn we were captured, they’ll change all their plans, abandon their safe houses and continue their jobs. What little we knew about them will be useless. You stopped us, but the movement will go on.”
“Chuckles here can’t have too many people on board with his brand of stupid,” Ibwibble said. “I figure we’ve got at most thirty more idiots to round up.”
“It wasn’t easy finding this bunch,” Brody said. “We’ll need all year to get them.”
“My schedule is wide open,” Julius replied, “and if that time and effort means one more city doesn’t face destruction then it’s worth the time.”
“What are you talking about, face destruction?” Anton asked.
Julius was about to answer him when there was a knock on the door. Richard said, “Don’t mean to intrude, but I think we may have a problem.”
Julius and the goblins headed outside, where Richard pointed at the sky. A large white cloud was moving against the wind, pushing aside other clouds in its way and heading straight for them.
“Incoming wizard, and I don’t think he’s with Anton and his circus of idiots,” Ibwibble said.
“Why not?” Habbly asked.
“You need gobs of power to make a magic cloud that big,” Ibwibble replied. “If they had anyone that strong, why didn’t they use him a long time ago? Nah, that’s somebody else who wants Anton’s hide.”
“Run,” Julius told Richard. The farmer ran for his life as Julius and his friends spread out. “I’ve no idea who this is. Diplomacy might work, so watch your words.”
The cloud descended and began to spiral, forming a whirlwind twenty feet across. An old man wearing blue and white robes and carrying a wood staff stepped out of the cloud, as did a goblin with orange hair and red skin. The whirlwind lifted into the sky but didn’t weaken as the man marched to the farm shed.
“Pardon our interruption,” the old man began. “I am Archibald Scrace, member of the Archivists. This is Yips, who I have been unable to dissuade from following me.”
“Got any aardvarks?” Yips asked.
“Sorry, fresh out,” Ibwibble told him.
“You have in your custody four young men who were once members of my order,” Archibald continued. “They have broken their sacred vows and done considerable damage. I have come to collect them and ensure they do no further harm.”
They heard Anton call out from inside the shed, “How did you find me, old man?”
“Your defensive spells against scrying must be renewed frequently, an impossible task when you are tied up. Those spells failed early this morning, and I was able to find you.” Archibald looked like a peaceful and contemplative man under most circumstances, but there was a hardness to his voice when he added, “There is a high price to pay for the oaths you broke. I mean to see you pay in full.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t hand them over,” Julius said. “These men call themselves Truth Seekers, and there are more of them. I need answers from them to stop their damage from spreading further, and local authorities have an equal right to see them face justice.”
“Can we agree to share them?” Brody asked. “You take two, we take two and everyone walks away happy.”
“The information they know about the Archivists is dangerous,” Archibald replied. “I cannot risk them revealing those secrets to secure their freedom. Countless lives and treasured knowledge are at risk.”
“Secrets?” Anton yelled. “You mean like—”
Anton’s words turned into a stream of gibberish meaningless in every language. The young wizard laughed and said, “Oh, your precious secrets are safe, you fraud. The spells keeping us from ever telling another soul what you’ve learned are too strong for us to break.”
“But not too strong for others to break,” Archibald replied. “The danger remains. Forgive me, sir, but I must insist on reclaiming these traitors to our order. I’m aware of your name and reputation, Julius Craton, and that of your goblin associates. I wish you no harm, especially after the good you’ve done, but I am leaving with Anton and his fellow turncoats.”
Yips gazed into the sky and said, “That’s no aardvark.”
“Eh?” Archibald asked. Yips pointed at a granite pillar of rock fifty feet tall flying through the sky toward them. Archibald cast a spell and glowing words appeared in front of them. He scowled and said, “That’s Dominus Quake of the Inspired, a wizard of the foulest kind. He must not take Anton. Everyone, prepare yourself.”
The pillar picked up speed and rammed point first into the soft ground. It shattered and fragments of granite flew across the landscape, but they suddenly stopped and rotated around the man who’d hidden inside the pillar. He wore a mix of white and black clothes, with a wood staff in his right hand and glowing pebbles rotating around his left hand. The left side of his face was covered in an expensive silver mask molded to look like a twin to the handsome right side of his face.
“I do hope you won’t mind me being fashionably late, but I only sensed the stripling wizard this morning,” Dominus said casually. “I’ve been looking for him and his fellows for weeks. Dreadfully annoying. Give him to me or I’ll grind your bones into powder.”
“Never,” Archibald said.
Julius drew his sword Sworn Doom. “Brody, untie the prisoners and get them out of here.”
“But we just caught them!”
“I can’t defend them and fight this wizard at the same time. We let them go, we watch them die or we let that monster take them.”
“Too much talking,” Dominus said. “You die now.”
Dominus uttered arcane words and made strange gestures, casting a spell that made the shattered rocks rotating around him shoot forward, their razor sharp edges slicing through tall grass and small trees. The stony cloud of death had nearly reached them when Archibald ordered the whirlwind he’d created to drop from the sky. It sucked up the rocks and spat them back at Dominus, but the whirlwind broke apart under the effort
“Clever boy,” Dominus said. A wave of his hand scattered the rocks before they hit him. “I didn’t think you a threat, bookworm.”
Julius charged Dominus, covering the distance between them in seconds. Dominus caused the ground under Julius’ feet to rise ten feet. Julius kept his balance and jumped down at Dominus. Sworn Doom glowed and yelled, “Doom!”
Another pillar of rock and earth rose up in front of Dominus to shield him from the blade. Dominus’ snide smirk disappeared when Sworn Doom hacked through the pillar. Dominus raised his staff, and it glowed nearly as bright as Sworn Doom before the ground erupted around him like an explosion. The blast threw Julius back but didn’t do enough damage to stop him, and he rose to his feet.
Brody ran to the shed to save their prisoners. Anton and the other three men screamed in abject terror as they struggled against their bonds. Brody had nearly reached them when Dominus cast another spell. A wall of dirt rose up around the shed and encased it.
“No one’s leaving,” Dominus taunted. “No one’s surviving. You all just die.”
Archibald began chanting to cast his own spell. There was no immediate effect, and Dominus laughed. “Running out of power so soon, fool? I was almost convinced you-Betty stitched a border, yellow, red then white. If everything’s in order, everything’s all right. Betty stitched a-curse you, you-border, yellow, red then white.”
“What’s happening?” Brody asked.
“He’s messing with his head,” Habbly told him. “Dominus can’t cast a spell when the Archivist is forcing him to say gibberish.”
Julius recovered quickly and charged Dominus. The evil wizard dodged Julius’ sword swing, but the hero still managed to ram his right shoulder into Dominus’ stomachs and knock him over. Julius raised his sword for a swing that would kill the evil wizard, but Dominus pointed his left hand and the tiny glowing pebbles shot out and hit Julius in the chest. Two of the tiny rocks hit and exploded, throwing Julius back and cutting deep grooves in his chest plate.
“Betty stitched a border,” Dominus said as he stood up and aimed his left hand at Archibald. Pebbles around his hand flew as fast as arrows, too fast for the old man to avoid. Yips grabbed Archibald and pulled him away, saving his life but breaking his concentration. Dominus scowled and yelled, “Those tremor stones cost me a hundred gold coins, and I wasted them on an idiot like you! You’ll die for that, paper pusher.”
Dominus cast another spell and rocks flew together to form a crude stone man twenty feet tall. The stone man marched toward Julius while the evil wizard turned his attention toward Archibald. “You’re so pathetic you needed a goblin to save you. At least two of those wretched creatures were smart enough to run, unlike you. I’ll—”
Habbly and Ibwibble had run, but only into dense brush that covered their approach to Dominus. The pair leapt from the grass and ran the last few feet to the evil wizard. Dominus looked shocked, and then screamed in pain when Habbly struck him in the shins with his mop handle. Ibwibble grabbed onto Dominus’ staff and chewed on it, gnawing out a chunk of wood and spitting it out. Dominus shoved Ibwibble off and screamed a spell.
The ground shook and Dominus rose into the sky on a thirty foot tall pillar of dirt and rocks. He had a perfect view of the battlefield, where Julius hacked a leg off the stone man attacking him. Archibald had recovered and began chanting again. Then Dominus saw Brody dig through the dirt that entombed the farm shed and open the door.
“No one claims my prize!” Dominus howled. The pillar of rocks and dirt bet over to form an arch and set him next to the shed. A wave of his hand made the dirt around the shed convulse and rip the small building open to reveal the screaming prisoners. He shoved Brody aside and grabbed Anton by the throat with his right hand. “You know where the Dawn Lanter is! Tell me or I’ll bury you fifty feet underground!”
Anton’s expression changed from terror to confusion. “I, I have no idea.”
“Liar!” Dominus pulled a sheet of paper from a pocket with his left hand and shoved it into Anton’s face. “You tempt me with hints! Where it was weeks ago! Places it might have gone and people who might have seen it! No more of these infuriating clues! Where is it right now? Tell me before I—Betty stitched a border, yellow, red then white. If everything’s in—not this again!”
Dominus dropped Anton and spun around. He saw Archibald chanting again and Julius hacking an arm off the stone man. The stone man struggled to fight with two limbs missing, and a savage blow to its head ended the battle. With it dead, if it had ever truly been alive, Julius ran at Dominus with Habbly, Ibwibble and Yips following him. Dominus struggled to cast a spell and gave up in frustration when his arcane words of power were replaced with nonsensical gibberish. Instead the evil wizard pulled a glittering wand from a pocket.
“No!” Dominus spun around at the sharp cry as Brody grabbed the wand with both hands. Neither the goblin or the wizard were strong enough to win this struggle, but Brody didn’t have to win. Every second brought Julius closer, and if Dominus couldn’t cast spells or use his wand there was nothing the evil wizard could do to fight back. Snarling, Dominus let go of the wand and ran off.
“Betty stitched a border!” Dominus yelled as he fled. He went another ten feet before shouting, “Yellow, red then—curse you, you ignorant fool! You delay the inevitable, nothing more!”
Julius had nearly caught up with Dominus when the evil wizard cast a spell and caused rocks to form a stone pillar around him. The pillar shot into the sky and flew off, leaving Julius, Archibald and the goblins victorious.
“His brain got better fast,” Habby said.
Archibald walked up alongside the goblin and said, “My confusion spell has a short range. Once he was far enough away, he was free of it. We should count ourselves lucky he didn’t bring allies, or we would surely have died.”
“Cheerful, aren’t you?” Ibwibble said. He coughed up a piece of Dominus’ staff and added, “What’s he want the lantern for? And what made him think whatshisface had it? That twerp is lucky he has socks.”
Brody picked up a sheet of paper off the ground and held it up for the others to see. “He dropped this when he ran off. ‘It says no secrets! Your leaders are keeping the truth from you!”
“That’s a lot of exclamation points,” Yips said as he rejoined Archibald. “Can I have one?”
Brody kept reading aloud, saying, “The Archivists are seeking the Dawn Lantern, one of the fifty most powerful magic items on Other Place. They believe it to be in Ocean View Kingdom, Forthosia or in the city states of Nolod or Cronsword.”
“I didn’t write that,” Anton said. He sounded stunned. “There were rumors, but we couldn’t confirm anything. It was hearsay. I never wrote that! It’s a lie!”
October 14, 2024
New Goblin Stories 23
Splat was exhausted and covered in sweat, and he’d never been happier. He’d done it. After so much hard work and frustration he’d finally hit the big times. Important people with good reputations had come to him for help!
Tired as he was, he kept running through the dark streets of Nolod’s vast slums. The plan was working like a charm. He just had to reach his new partners and get them moving. Splat ran through puddles and dung piles, making a total mess of his dark blue clothes and covering the shiny buckles on his clothes with filth. When a mugger stepped in his way Splat went around the fellow and shouted, “No time!”
Oh, this was good. Golden, even! When Ibwibble had hired him, Splat had spent hours gathering his goblin mob. That had involved tracking them down, tying them up and dragging them to his hideout. Well, except Mummy and Molly. They’d been eager to join in the fun. An hour long presentation and generous bribes had ensured his followers would actually follow him. Splat had made sure to only kidnap goblins he’d worked with before. They were slow, stupid, disobedient and smelled funny, but they’d won victories in the past and they’d win today.
Splat reached a warehouse loaded with bags of wool and snuck in through a loose board. Inside he found a mob of goblins waiting for him, their leader impatiently tapping his foot.
“Well?” Bub the goblin asked.
“It worked,” Splat gasped. He nearly fell to the floor as he added, “We tracked them down to their base in the dockmaster’s office. There are three in the attack group and another one they’d left behind to guard their stuff. The windows are too small for us to get in and the door’s locked and barred. We can pick the lock, but that bar’s held in place by a peg inside the office.”
Bub frowned. The short, black clad goblin said, “The dockmaster is an important man. He’ll be in his office not long after dawn, so they’re going to leave soon.”
“I’ve got my best goblins watching them,” Splat replied. “If they leave before we get there, they’ll be followed.”
“That won’t help if they escape by boat. We have to move.”
Bub helped steady Splat and they left with Bub’s gang. Goblins on the rise knew about Bub and his tactical assault squad. They weren’t that many of them, but they had a string of victories longer than Splat’s arrest record. You had to respect a goblin like that. When Ibwibble had needed help, he’d hired Bub and then Splat. This would give them the numbers and combat experience to catch these weirdoes spilling everyone’s secrets.
Admittedly Splat’s group was smaller than Bub’s and lacked the cohesion and training of Bub’s followers. But Splat had Molly, the best human impersonator in the world, so good nobody realized she was a goblin. Molly was smart and followed orders, improvising when necessary. Molly never failed.
“The bad guys’ base might be for more than hiding,” Splat told Bub as he led the goblins through Nolod’s alleys and backstreets. Knowing these streets was another strength he had that Bub lacked. “Ibwibble sent word these guys stole papers from the nymph. The dockmaster’s got lots of papers, too.”
“You think they’re hitting two places in one night?”
“They won’t want to stick around here after the beating Calista gave them.”
A goblin nudged Bub and asked, “Righteous Fists of Vengeance?”
“We’re not changing the group’s name,” Bub said firmly. “Splat, what else did Ibwibble say?”
Splat checked a paper delivered to him half an hour ago by a goblin messenger. “One of them is a magician, but he’s weak. They also have alchemic weapons.”
“Then we’ve got to hit them hard and fast, or they could do a lot of damage. Even weak wizards are dangerous.”
“Knights of the Coming Cataclysm?” the other goblin asked Bub.
“I like it,” Splat said.
“Then you take it,” Bub growled. “How far to the dockmaster’s office?”
“Six blocks,” Splat replied. “Seriously, I can take it?”
“It’s yours.” The goblins’ march halted when a towering man cloaking shadows stepped into their way. Bub came to a stop but didn’t show fear. “You want something?”
“You look like one on a mission,” the shadowy man said. “The last time your kind were so driven was nearly the end of Nolod.”
“And?” Splat asked.
“May I watch? It’s been so long since I had quality entertainment.”
Bub rolled his eyes. “Fine, but no getting involved.”
“Perish the thought,” the shadowy man said, and drifted back into the darkness of an alleyway.
“Is this normal for Nolod?” Bub asked Splat.
“Oh please, it gets way weirder than this. You know, he could have helped us. Wouldn’t have taken long to get him interested.”
Bub shook his head. “He could mess things up easy as not. That’s why I don’t work with people I don’t know. Heck, I’m not sure about you and your gang.”
“Hey, we followed these jerks when they ran from the hotel,” Splat said proudly. “We didn’t miss them when they were trying really hard to be sneaky and dropped caltrops to hurt anyone chasing them. Why, we even swept up the caltrops so nobody else would step on them, which was a very civic minded—”
“Yeah, you’re wonderful, now where are the targets?”
“Over there.” Splat pointed at a rectangular building made of cedar at the edge of the docks. There were dozens of ships moored nearby, but at this time of night nobody was around except a few lookouts on the ships making sure nobody tried to steal from them. The building was solidly built and had bars over the narrow windows. There were dim lights on inside, and they saw indistinct shapes moving by the windows.
“Is it starting?” the shadowy man asked. Splat nearly screamed at the stranger’s sudden appearance.
“Yeah, now back up,” Splat said.
“Delighted to. The others and I will give you room to work.”
“Others?” Bub asked. The little goblin slapped a hand over his face when he saw eight men and monsters sitting on a ship’s prow eating popcorn. “Great, we’ve got a crowd watching us.”
“No fear,” Splat told him. He pointed at goblins sneaking around the docks and said, “My guys are here. That means the bad guys are here, too. We can take them.”
Bub frowned. “The door and frame are oak, and those bars are steel. We’re not breaking in there without drawing too much attention from the city guard. We could wait until they come out on their own, but the longer we wait the better the chance they get reinforcements or someone shows up who’ll ruin things for us.”
Splat nodded. “Ship crews could return, and watchmen come by all the time. Don’t worry, I have a foolproof way to get inside.”
A small goblin wrapped head to toe in bandages came out of an empty barrel and scurried over to Splat. “Everyone’s ready.”
“Good work, Mummy. Tell Molly to turn on the waterworks once we’re around the dockmaster’s office.”
Mummy ran off, and Bub said, “Must have been an awful fight.”
“Nah, he’s been like that for years. Come on.”
Splat and Bub led their followers around the sides of the dockmaster’s office, close enough to reach the door in a hurry when it opened. They saw more goblins in the shadows, some sneaking in to join them while others stayed back as a last ditch effort to catch the enemy if they tried to flee. Now that they were next to the building they could hear voices inside. At first the words were too soft to understand, but the volume rose.
“We have to rescue him,” the first voice said. The voice was male, young and angry.
“You lost one man,” a second voice said. He sounded like an older man. “Go after him and you’ll lose more.”
“We don’t abandon our own,” said the first.
“You don’t know where he is,” the second man countered.
“I’ve got spells to—” the first began.
“We don’t have time,” the second man interrupted. “The authorities know we’re here. They know some of what we did. They’ll be looking for us on every ship and every road by morning. If you stop to look for him, you’ll lose all of us. One man or five. Pick.”
“They took him alive. That means they want him to talk. It gives us time to save him.”
“There is no time,” the second man replied, his voice growing louder and angrier. “You knew the day you started this that you could fall to the kings and noblemen and guild masters. There were going to be losses. Up until tonight we were lucky. He knew that, too. He won’t talk. If they force him to, we’ll be long gone before anything he says could matter. Respect the sacrifice he’s made. The truth matters more than we do. You said so yourself.”
Splat looked to Bub, who shrugged. Whatever this was about was beyond the goblins.
“We don’t have enough people to squander them!” the first man yelled.
“Be quiet or we’re dead,” the second man replied. “He’s gone, Anton, and nothing we can do is going to get him back. We lost a man and completed the mission. It’s a bad win, but it’s a win.”
“It’s not a win,” a third man said.
Anton, the first man, asked, “What?”
“I read the nymph’s letters,” the third man explained. “There’s nothing scandalous here. She wrote boring letters to friends and fellow professors. That’s it. She wasn’t hiding anything from anyone. The only thing I can find close to a truth is that Lord Bryce made lewd statements about her I’m certain aren’t true and she might sue him for it. That’ll come to light on its own.”
“But, but she’s a nymph,” Anton, said. “Everyone knows what nymphs are like.”
“A pity no one told her that, because she sounds as pure as freshly fallen snow,” the third man replied. “I copied shipping manifests from the dockmaster’s files. There might be something interesting here, but as for the nymph, she’s only got the stars and planets on her mind.”
“We could imply there’s something here,” the older man said. “Tell people the nymph’s been writing letters and let them come to their own conclusions.”
“No!” Anton yelled. The older man tried to speak, but Anton didn’t give him a chance. “We are dedicated to revealing the truth! No secrets, no lies. If we lie to the people, even once, they’ll never trust us again. The money, the risks, the friends and family members who turned their backs on us, all that pain and loss will be for nothing.”
Just then a small girl ran across to the dockmaster’s office. Bub gasped, not sure how a child could be out at such an hour in this dangerous city. The girl waved to Splat, who waved back, and she headed to the building’s door.
“What the…get her out of here,” Bub ordered.
“Relax, that’s Molly,” Splat assured him. “Most people think she’s a girl.”
“She is a girl,” Bub hissed. “You can’t be this stupid.”
Molly knocked on the door. “Mommy, I’m home.”
“Who is that?” Anton asked. His voice betrayed panic.
“Wow, you’re falling for it, too”, Splat told Bub.
“Mommy, please open the door,” Molly said. “I’m sorry I’m late, mommy. I won’t do it again.”
“That’s definitely a girl,” Bub said angrily.
“Send her away,” Anton said. Louder, he called out, “This isn’t your house.”
“Mommy!” Molly wailed. “Please, mommy, I’m cold and scared, and something smells funny! Like old poo!”
“Molly’s acting,” Splat said. “I’ve never met a human impersonator that good, and I’m proud to have her.”
“She’s drawing attention to us,” the older man said. “Get her inside and give her some food. We’ll leave her by a watch house when we go.”
“This is our chance,” Splat told Bub. “Get ready.”
“You and I are going to talk when this is over,” Bub grumbled.
The door opened and the goblins raced into action. Molly smiled sweetly at the black clad men, keeping their attention on her just long enough for them to miss the onrush of goblins until it was too late. Bub jammed a rock into the doorframe, making it impossible to close the door, and goblins ran inside. The first few goblins slipped around the shocked men before Splat grabbed the older man around the waist and pulled his pants down to his ankles. Mummy charged in and pushed the older man, tipping him over.
Bub led his tactical assault squad with military precision, swarming one of the men and pulling him to the ground. Two down, two left. Bad luck, one of them was the wizard. The wizard chanted and waved his hands, forming a shield of ice that hovered in front of him. Goblins threw rocks that bounced off the ice shield. One goblin charged the wizard, only for the shield to shove him backwards. Bub saw the other man pull a terracotta bottle from a pouch on his belt and lifted it to throw.
Thinking fast, Bub grabbed a chair from the dockmaster’s office and hurled it at the guy’s legs. It was a good hit and the man dropped the bottle. It shattered when it hit the floor, releasing a blast of flames at the wizard’s feet.
The wizard turned his shield to defend himself from the fiery blast. It protected him but melted away. Bub charged the wizard and kicked him in the shin. The wizard yelped and jumped up and down before Splat and Mummy tackled him. The last man who’d used the alchemic firebomb tried to shove goblins out of the way to escape, but overwhelming numbers dragged him down.
It was almost a clean sweep when the older man got up and knocked aside three goblins. Bub ran at him as the man tried to pull up his trousers. Bub grabbed the back of his pants and pulled them back down, only for the man to step out of his pants and run off, dressed in black from the waist up and wearing white and red polka dot boxers below the belt. The older man fled into the night, punching and kicking goblins that ran at him from alleys.
“Do we go after him?” a goblin asked Bub.
“These three could get away while we’re chasing him,” Bub said. “Tie them up and get them out of here before anyone shows up.”
“Great work, everyone,” Splat told the goblins he’d corralled into working with him. “Double shares of cheese for everyone!”
“Double?” Molly asked. Splat nodded, and Molly jumped up and down squealing.
Bub scowled and marched up to Molly. “I have to know, exactly who and what are you?”
* * * * *
“You’re sure you’re a girl?” Splat asked Molly.
“Mmm hmm.” Molly walked home with Splat at her side. She was as happy as could be going back to her family with her arms loaded with cheese. Sure, Nolod’s streets were never safe, but it was almost morning, and she wasn’t far from home. Besides, last night’s battle had been loud enough that nearby troublemakers were keeping their heads down. But just to be sure Splat was staying with her. The rest of his gang had wandered off, leaving the two of them alone.
“I mean really sure?”
“Yes.”
“Mind blown. I thought you were joking when you said you were a girl.”
“I wasn’t.” Molly wasn’t at all bothered by Splat’s confusion. The goblin rubbed his forehead and gave Molly a curious glance.
Splat squinted and then shook his head.
“I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years. What am I supposed to do? You’re the most capable goblin in my gang and you’re not a goblin!”
Molly looked at Splat and said, “You could get people who aren’t goblins on purpose. I bet oodles of people would want to be your friend. You’re nice and you keep your word.”
Splat nearly passed out from shock. “I’m nice?”
“Sure you are! You gave me all this cheese. My family will have lots to eat because of you.”
Just then the shadowy man drifted overhead, laughing hysterically before he vanished into the night. Anywhere else that would be cause for concern, but in Nolod this was almost commonplace. You weren’t allowed to live in this city if you couldn’t deal with the bizarre on a weekly basis.
Splat gripped the sides of his head with both hands. “Me nice. What’s the world coming to? Molly, I’ve got to hand it to you, you had me fooled. You know, you’re good at this.”
“Thank you!”
“I mean really good. You’re an expert at fooling people. Have you considered going into theater? Or politics? You’re good enough to be Nolod’s first lady prime minister.”
Molly gasped. “Really?”
“You bet. He can trick lots of people lots of the time, but every so often he screws up. But you? You never miss a beat. Honestly, I could learn a thing or two from you.”
“Molly!” The scream caught Splat and Molly by surprise. A woman ran across the street and scooped up the girl. “Oh, precious child! You scared the life half out of me! Where have you been all night?”
“Hi mommy! I was working for Mister Splat,” Molly said proudly. She held up the thick wedge of cheese and added, “Look how much he paid me!”
A man wearing old and worn clothes ran up alongside the woman. He wasn’t the biggest or strongest man Splat had ever seen, but the look of outrage on his face would have given a dragon pause. Splat backed up and said, “And she deserves every crumb. Ha, ha, ah nuts. You’re not going to believe this, but it was all a misunderstanding, and I can guarantee that—”
Splat ran for his life with Molly’s father three steps behind. This wouldn’t be the first time Splat had barely escaped death, but it was hardest he’d ever had to work to earn it.
Tired as he was, he kept running through the dark streets of Nolod’s vast slums. The plan was working like a charm. He just had to reach his new partners and get them moving. Splat ran through puddles and dung piles, making a total mess of his dark blue clothes and covering the shiny buckles on his clothes with filth. When a mugger stepped in his way Splat went around the fellow and shouted, “No time!”
Oh, this was good. Golden, even! When Ibwibble had hired him, Splat had spent hours gathering his goblin mob. That had involved tracking them down, tying them up and dragging them to his hideout. Well, except Mummy and Molly. They’d been eager to join in the fun. An hour long presentation and generous bribes had ensured his followers would actually follow him. Splat had made sure to only kidnap goblins he’d worked with before. They were slow, stupid, disobedient and smelled funny, but they’d won victories in the past and they’d win today.
Splat reached a warehouse loaded with bags of wool and snuck in through a loose board. Inside he found a mob of goblins waiting for him, their leader impatiently tapping his foot.
“Well?” Bub the goblin asked.
“It worked,” Splat gasped. He nearly fell to the floor as he added, “We tracked them down to their base in the dockmaster’s office. There are three in the attack group and another one they’d left behind to guard their stuff. The windows are too small for us to get in and the door’s locked and barred. We can pick the lock, but that bar’s held in place by a peg inside the office.”
Bub frowned. The short, black clad goblin said, “The dockmaster is an important man. He’ll be in his office not long after dawn, so they’re going to leave soon.”
“I’ve got my best goblins watching them,” Splat replied. “If they leave before we get there, they’ll be followed.”
“That won’t help if they escape by boat. We have to move.”
Bub helped steady Splat and they left with Bub’s gang. Goblins on the rise knew about Bub and his tactical assault squad. They weren’t that many of them, but they had a string of victories longer than Splat’s arrest record. You had to respect a goblin like that. When Ibwibble had needed help, he’d hired Bub and then Splat. This would give them the numbers and combat experience to catch these weirdoes spilling everyone’s secrets.
Admittedly Splat’s group was smaller than Bub’s and lacked the cohesion and training of Bub’s followers. But Splat had Molly, the best human impersonator in the world, so good nobody realized she was a goblin. Molly was smart and followed orders, improvising when necessary. Molly never failed.
“The bad guys’ base might be for more than hiding,” Splat told Bub as he led the goblins through Nolod’s alleys and backstreets. Knowing these streets was another strength he had that Bub lacked. “Ibwibble sent word these guys stole papers from the nymph. The dockmaster’s got lots of papers, too.”
“You think they’re hitting two places in one night?”
“They won’t want to stick around here after the beating Calista gave them.”
A goblin nudged Bub and asked, “Righteous Fists of Vengeance?”
“We’re not changing the group’s name,” Bub said firmly. “Splat, what else did Ibwibble say?”
Splat checked a paper delivered to him half an hour ago by a goblin messenger. “One of them is a magician, but he’s weak. They also have alchemic weapons.”
“Then we’ve got to hit them hard and fast, or they could do a lot of damage. Even weak wizards are dangerous.”
“Knights of the Coming Cataclysm?” the other goblin asked Bub.
“I like it,” Splat said.
“Then you take it,” Bub growled. “How far to the dockmaster’s office?”
“Six blocks,” Splat replied. “Seriously, I can take it?”
“It’s yours.” The goblins’ march halted when a towering man cloaking shadows stepped into their way. Bub came to a stop but didn’t show fear. “You want something?”
“You look like one on a mission,” the shadowy man said. “The last time your kind were so driven was nearly the end of Nolod.”
“And?” Splat asked.
“May I watch? It’s been so long since I had quality entertainment.”
Bub rolled his eyes. “Fine, but no getting involved.”
“Perish the thought,” the shadowy man said, and drifted back into the darkness of an alleyway.
“Is this normal for Nolod?” Bub asked Splat.
“Oh please, it gets way weirder than this. You know, he could have helped us. Wouldn’t have taken long to get him interested.”
Bub shook his head. “He could mess things up easy as not. That’s why I don’t work with people I don’t know. Heck, I’m not sure about you and your gang.”
“Hey, we followed these jerks when they ran from the hotel,” Splat said proudly. “We didn’t miss them when they were trying really hard to be sneaky and dropped caltrops to hurt anyone chasing them. Why, we even swept up the caltrops so nobody else would step on them, which was a very civic minded—”
“Yeah, you’re wonderful, now where are the targets?”
“Over there.” Splat pointed at a rectangular building made of cedar at the edge of the docks. There were dozens of ships moored nearby, but at this time of night nobody was around except a few lookouts on the ships making sure nobody tried to steal from them. The building was solidly built and had bars over the narrow windows. There were dim lights on inside, and they saw indistinct shapes moving by the windows.
“Is it starting?” the shadowy man asked. Splat nearly screamed at the stranger’s sudden appearance.
“Yeah, now back up,” Splat said.
“Delighted to. The others and I will give you room to work.”
“Others?” Bub asked. The little goblin slapped a hand over his face when he saw eight men and monsters sitting on a ship’s prow eating popcorn. “Great, we’ve got a crowd watching us.”
“No fear,” Splat told him. He pointed at goblins sneaking around the docks and said, “My guys are here. That means the bad guys are here, too. We can take them.”
Bub frowned. “The door and frame are oak, and those bars are steel. We’re not breaking in there without drawing too much attention from the city guard. We could wait until they come out on their own, but the longer we wait the better the chance they get reinforcements or someone shows up who’ll ruin things for us.”
Splat nodded. “Ship crews could return, and watchmen come by all the time. Don’t worry, I have a foolproof way to get inside.”
A small goblin wrapped head to toe in bandages came out of an empty barrel and scurried over to Splat. “Everyone’s ready.”
“Good work, Mummy. Tell Molly to turn on the waterworks once we’re around the dockmaster’s office.”
Mummy ran off, and Bub said, “Must have been an awful fight.”
“Nah, he’s been like that for years. Come on.”
Splat and Bub led their followers around the sides of the dockmaster’s office, close enough to reach the door in a hurry when it opened. They saw more goblins in the shadows, some sneaking in to join them while others stayed back as a last ditch effort to catch the enemy if they tried to flee. Now that they were next to the building they could hear voices inside. At first the words were too soft to understand, but the volume rose.
“We have to rescue him,” the first voice said. The voice was male, young and angry.
“You lost one man,” a second voice said. He sounded like an older man. “Go after him and you’ll lose more.”
“We don’t abandon our own,” said the first.
“You don’t know where he is,” the second man countered.
“I’ve got spells to—” the first began.
“We don’t have time,” the second man interrupted. “The authorities know we’re here. They know some of what we did. They’ll be looking for us on every ship and every road by morning. If you stop to look for him, you’ll lose all of us. One man or five. Pick.”
“They took him alive. That means they want him to talk. It gives us time to save him.”
“There is no time,” the second man replied, his voice growing louder and angrier. “You knew the day you started this that you could fall to the kings and noblemen and guild masters. There were going to be losses. Up until tonight we were lucky. He knew that, too. He won’t talk. If they force him to, we’ll be long gone before anything he says could matter. Respect the sacrifice he’s made. The truth matters more than we do. You said so yourself.”
Splat looked to Bub, who shrugged. Whatever this was about was beyond the goblins.
“We don’t have enough people to squander them!” the first man yelled.
“Be quiet or we’re dead,” the second man replied. “He’s gone, Anton, and nothing we can do is going to get him back. We lost a man and completed the mission. It’s a bad win, but it’s a win.”
“It’s not a win,” a third man said.
Anton, the first man, asked, “What?”
“I read the nymph’s letters,” the third man explained. “There’s nothing scandalous here. She wrote boring letters to friends and fellow professors. That’s it. She wasn’t hiding anything from anyone. The only thing I can find close to a truth is that Lord Bryce made lewd statements about her I’m certain aren’t true and she might sue him for it. That’ll come to light on its own.”
“But, but she’s a nymph,” Anton, said. “Everyone knows what nymphs are like.”
“A pity no one told her that, because she sounds as pure as freshly fallen snow,” the third man replied. “I copied shipping manifests from the dockmaster’s files. There might be something interesting here, but as for the nymph, she’s only got the stars and planets on her mind.”
“We could imply there’s something here,” the older man said. “Tell people the nymph’s been writing letters and let them come to their own conclusions.”
“No!” Anton yelled. The older man tried to speak, but Anton didn’t give him a chance. “We are dedicated to revealing the truth! No secrets, no lies. If we lie to the people, even once, they’ll never trust us again. The money, the risks, the friends and family members who turned their backs on us, all that pain and loss will be for nothing.”
Just then a small girl ran across to the dockmaster’s office. Bub gasped, not sure how a child could be out at such an hour in this dangerous city. The girl waved to Splat, who waved back, and she headed to the building’s door.
“What the…get her out of here,” Bub ordered.
“Relax, that’s Molly,” Splat assured him. “Most people think she’s a girl.”
“She is a girl,” Bub hissed. “You can’t be this stupid.”
Molly knocked on the door. “Mommy, I’m home.”
“Who is that?” Anton asked. His voice betrayed panic.
“Wow, you’re falling for it, too”, Splat told Bub.
“Mommy, please open the door,” Molly said. “I’m sorry I’m late, mommy. I won’t do it again.”
“That’s definitely a girl,” Bub said angrily.
“Send her away,” Anton said. Louder, he called out, “This isn’t your house.”
“Mommy!” Molly wailed. “Please, mommy, I’m cold and scared, and something smells funny! Like old poo!”
“Molly’s acting,” Splat said. “I’ve never met a human impersonator that good, and I’m proud to have her.”
“She’s drawing attention to us,” the older man said. “Get her inside and give her some food. We’ll leave her by a watch house when we go.”
“This is our chance,” Splat told Bub. “Get ready.”
“You and I are going to talk when this is over,” Bub grumbled.
The door opened and the goblins raced into action. Molly smiled sweetly at the black clad men, keeping their attention on her just long enough for them to miss the onrush of goblins until it was too late. Bub jammed a rock into the doorframe, making it impossible to close the door, and goblins ran inside. The first few goblins slipped around the shocked men before Splat grabbed the older man around the waist and pulled his pants down to his ankles. Mummy charged in and pushed the older man, tipping him over.
Bub led his tactical assault squad with military precision, swarming one of the men and pulling him to the ground. Two down, two left. Bad luck, one of them was the wizard. The wizard chanted and waved his hands, forming a shield of ice that hovered in front of him. Goblins threw rocks that bounced off the ice shield. One goblin charged the wizard, only for the shield to shove him backwards. Bub saw the other man pull a terracotta bottle from a pouch on his belt and lifted it to throw.
Thinking fast, Bub grabbed a chair from the dockmaster’s office and hurled it at the guy’s legs. It was a good hit and the man dropped the bottle. It shattered when it hit the floor, releasing a blast of flames at the wizard’s feet.
The wizard turned his shield to defend himself from the fiery blast. It protected him but melted away. Bub charged the wizard and kicked him in the shin. The wizard yelped and jumped up and down before Splat and Mummy tackled him. The last man who’d used the alchemic firebomb tried to shove goblins out of the way to escape, but overwhelming numbers dragged him down.
It was almost a clean sweep when the older man got up and knocked aside three goblins. Bub ran at him as the man tried to pull up his trousers. Bub grabbed the back of his pants and pulled them back down, only for the man to step out of his pants and run off, dressed in black from the waist up and wearing white and red polka dot boxers below the belt. The older man fled into the night, punching and kicking goblins that ran at him from alleys.
“Do we go after him?” a goblin asked Bub.
“These three could get away while we’re chasing him,” Bub said. “Tie them up and get them out of here before anyone shows up.”
“Great work, everyone,” Splat told the goblins he’d corralled into working with him. “Double shares of cheese for everyone!”
“Double?” Molly asked. Splat nodded, and Molly jumped up and down squealing.
Bub scowled and marched up to Molly. “I have to know, exactly who and what are you?”
* * * * *
“You’re sure you’re a girl?” Splat asked Molly.
“Mmm hmm.” Molly walked home with Splat at her side. She was as happy as could be going back to her family with her arms loaded with cheese. Sure, Nolod’s streets were never safe, but it was almost morning, and she wasn’t far from home. Besides, last night’s battle had been loud enough that nearby troublemakers were keeping their heads down. But just to be sure Splat was staying with her. The rest of his gang had wandered off, leaving the two of them alone.
“I mean really sure?”
“Yes.”
“Mind blown. I thought you were joking when you said you were a girl.”
“I wasn’t.” Molly wasn’t at all bothered by Splat’s confusion. The goblin rubbed his forehead and gave Molly a curious glance.
Splat squinted and then shook his head.
“I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years. What am I supposed to do? You’re the most capable goblin in my gang and you’re not a goblin!”
Molly looked at Splat and said, “You could get people who aren’t goblins on purpose. I bet oodles of people would want to be your friend. You’re nice and you keep your word.”
Splat nearly passed out from shock. “I’m nice?”
“Sure you are! You gave me all this cheese. My family will have lots to eat because of you.”
Just then the shadowy man drifted overhead, laughing hysterically before he vanished into the night. Anywhere else that would be cause for concern, but in Nolod this was almost commonplace. You weren’t allowed to live in this city if you couldn’t deal with the bizarre on a weekly basis.
Splat gripped the sides of his head with both hands. “Me nice. What’s the world coming to? Molly, I’ve got to hand it to you, you had me fooled. You know, you’re good at this.”
“Thank you!”
“I mean really good. You’re an expert at fooling people. Have you considered going into theater? Or politics? You’re good enough to be Nolod’s first lady prime minister.”
Molly gasped. “Really?”
“You bet. He can trick lots of people lots of the time, but every so often he screws up. But you? You never miss a beat. Honestly, I could learn a thing or two from you.”
“Molly!” The scream caught Splat and Molly by surprise. A woman ran across the street and scooped up the girl. “Oh, precious child! You scared the life half out of me! Where have you been all night?”
“Hi mommy! I was working for Mister Splat,” Molly said proudly. She held up the thick wedge of cheese and added, “Look how much he paid me!”
A man wearing old and worn clothes ran up alongside the woman. He wasn’t the biggest or strongest man Splat had ever seen, but the look of outrage on his face would have given a dragon pause. Splat backed up and said, “And she deserves every crumb. Ha, ha, ah nuts. You’re not going to believe this, but it was all a misunderstanding, and I can guarantee that—”
Splat ran for his life with Molly’s father three steps behind. This wouldn’t be the first time Splat had barely escaped death, but it was hardest he’d ever had to work to earn it.
