IT BEGGINNETH HERE
More Mild Misadventures of Gunk the Goblin
If you missed the previous episode, here is a recap:
Outside the Goblin Cave
Guard Goblin: Halt! Who goes there? You know the rules—no cave for hillside riffraff!
Hillside Goblin: It’s me, Gunk! I came to warn you lot—there’s a band of adventurers on their way to slaughter every goblin in this cave! You’ve gotta let me in!
Guard Goblin: Oh, sure, Gunk. Just like last week when you said the cave was haunted, and it turned out to be you under a sheet moaning, “OoOoOo, I’m the Goblin King”?
Hillside Goblin: That was funny, though. C’mon, Glint, I’m serious this time!
Guard Goblin: Serious? Like the time you swore there was gold in the stream, and when we checked, it was just a pile of yellow pebbles you painted?
Hillside Goblin: They looked convincing in the sunlight!
Guard Goblin: Or that “magic wand” you sold to Snork, which turned out to be a stick covered in glitter?
Hillside Goblin: Snork still can’t get over that sparkle curse. Look, this is different—adventurers are real! They’ve got swords and fireballs and—one of them’s got a book! You know nothing good comes from a book!
Guard Goblin: Nice try. Next you’ll tell me they’ve got a wizard who’s allergic to goblins but came anyway out of pure spite.
Hillside Goblin: THEY DO! How did you know that?! He sneezed and vaporized a tree on the way up here!
Guard Goblin: Uh-huh. And I suppose they’re riding a dragon that just happened to stop for tea in the valley?
Hillside Goblin: No, just a giant bear—wait, do you hear growling?
Guard Goblin: You’re not fooling me, Gunk. Go back to your hill and—hey, what’s that shadow?
Hillside Goblin: Oh, no! It’s the bear! I told you! RUN!
Guard Goblin: …Why is it holding a teacup?!
(Chaos ensues as the adventurers and their tea-loving bear charge the cave, and Gunk smirks in the background, muttering, “Told ya.”)
To Be Continued…
He Warned ‘Em
The tree wasn’t comfortable, but it was safe. Well, safer. Gunk clung to the highest branch that would hold him, peering through the leaves as the chaos erupted in the goblin cave below.
“Ha! I warned ’em,” he muttered to himself, ducking slightly as a fireball whooshed out of the cave entrance. The light from the blast lit up the forest around him, and he could just make out the forms of adventurers charging in. There was the wizard—his sneeze echoed even louder than his spells—and the bear, which was somehow even bigger in person and still clutching that ridiculous teacup.
“Adventurers and tea? What kind of world is this?” Gunk muttered. He watched the bear swat away a goblin, who went flying into a nearby tree like a sack of turnips. “Oof. Sorry, Grinkle. You deserved better.”
Inside the cave, he could hear the clanging of swords, the screech of goblins, and an alarming number of shouts like, “WHO LEFT THESE MARBLES EVERYWHERE?” That’d be Tunk’s idea of defense. Typical cave goblins, always thinking too small.
The wizard sneezed again, and a blast of magic made the ground quake. A moment later, Glint the guard came scrambling out of the cave, his helmet on backward, yelling, “Gunk! GUNK! You were right! Help us!”
Gunk crossed his arms. “Oh, NOW I’m worth listening to? Didn’t seem to matter when I was warning you about certain doom!”
Glint tripped on a root and sprawled face-first into the dirt. He popped up again, sputtering, “You could’ve tried harder to convince us!”
“I was very convincing!” Gunk shouted. “You’re just a terrible listener!”
Another fireball exploded, and Gunk felt the heat even up in his tree. He glanced back at the cave entrance, where the adventurers were driving goblins deeper inside like frightened bats. The bear roared and charged in after them, splintering the main support beam with one swing of its paw.
The cave groaned ominously.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Gunk muttered, shifting uncomfortably as a large chunk of rock tumbled from the entrance. He could already hear the goblins inside panicking, yelling things like, “Save the mushrooms!” and “This is all Gunk’s fault!”
The whole cave was caving in. Gunk winced as a plume of dust erupted, the adventurers and goblins alike scrambling out just before the entire entrance collapsed.
“Well,” Gunk said, watching as Glint stumbled toward him, covered in dirt and mushroom bits. “Looks like you’re all hillside goblins now.”
Glint scowled up at him. “You could’ve warned us the cave would collapse too!”
Gunk leaned back against the tree trunk, grinning. “Guess I just wasn’t convincing enough.”
To be continued…
Spoons
The surviving goblins, dusty, battered, and thoroughly demoralized, gathered in a ragged group on a rocky outcrop above the wreckage of their former home. They watched as the adventurers marched triumphantly down the hillside, their bear companion plodding along behind them, now carrying what looked suspiciously like a sack of stolen goblin loot.
“Unbelievable,” muttered Glint, slumped against a boulder with his helmet still on backward. “They didn’t even need the bear. That thing was just overkill.”
“I told you it was overkill!” Gunk piped up from where he sat cross-legged on a fallen log, smirking smugly. “But noooo, Gunk’s just the ‘lying hillside goblin.’ Can’t trust a word outta his mouth!”
The other goblins glared at him, though they were too tired to argue.
“They took everything,” moaned Grinkle, who was nursing a bruised arm and cradling a single, slightly squished mushroom. “The shiny rocks, the mushroom barrels, the cursed spoon collection…”
“Oh, come on,” Gunk said, rolling his eyes. “The spoon collection cursed us more than anyone else. You should be thanking them for taking it.”
Grinkle sniffled. “But I liked the spoons.”
As the adventurers grew smaller in the distance, the goblins’ grumbling turned into murmured complaints.
“What’re we supposed to do now?” someone muttered. “The cave’s gone.”
“And all our stuff!”
“And the mushrooms!”
“You’ve got the whole hillside!” Gunk said brightly, throwing his arms wide. “Plenty of trees, rocks, nice open skies—fresh start for all you former cave-dwellers.”
The goblins turned to glare at him again, and Glint stood, wincing as he brushed dirt off his armor. “You think this is funny, Gunk? If you hadn’t been such a troublemaker, we’d never have kicked you out, and maybe we’d have taken you seriously for once.”
“If you’d listened to me for once, we might still have a cave!” Gunk shot back, standing up on his log. “But nooo, I’m the bad guy for thinking ahead.”
Glint growled, pointing an accusing finger. “You’re not the bad guy. You’re the annoying guy!”
“Better to be annoying than flattened under a bear!” Gunk retorted. “Besides, I saved you all in my own roundabout way!”
“Saved us?” screeched Grinkle. “We’re homeless and broke!”
“And alive!” Gunk yelled, arms flailing. “You’re welcome!”
The goblins grumbled and muttered, but no one had the energy to argue anymore. They sat in sullen silence as the adventurers finally disappeared into the trees below.
“Well,” said Gunk after a long pause, “if it makes you feel any better, they didn’t take everything.”
“What’re you talking about?” Glint asked suspiciously.
Gunk grinned and pulled a sack out from behind his log. “While you lot were busy getting flattened and fireballed, I snagged some stuff from the supply nook. Look! Mushrooms! Some shiny rocks! And… uh… one spoon.”
The goblins’ eyes widened as they crowded around the sack.
“Gunk,” Glint said slowly, “you might be the most annoying goblin alive…”
“…but we’ll take it,” finished Grinkle, snatching the mushroom.
Gunk smirked as they rifled through the sack, muttering among themselves. “See? Stick with me, and we’ll rebuild. Hillside goblins! New name, new beginnings. Maybe even a new cave someday!”
“Don’t push your luck,” Glint muttered, but Gunk could tell his heart wasn’t in it.
Above them, the sun was setting over the hillside, and the goblins settled in to regroup, a little battered but still standing. For now, that was enough.
To Be Continued…
Junk
The adventurers trudged down the hillside, their armor clinking and boots crunching over loose rocks. The wizard sneezed loudly, nearly toppling over under the weight of his spellbook.
“For the love of the gods, Merrick,” said the fighter, a burly woman with a scar running down her cheek. “How many times are you going to sneeze today? You’re worse than the bear.”
“Not my fault!” Merrick said indignantly, adjusting his crooked glasses. “The goblins reeked of mold and… I don’t even know what else. Do they roll in swamp muck for fun?”
“Probably,” the rogue said with a smirk, flipping a shiny dagger between his fingers. “But hey, it’s a small price to pay for this haul. I mean, look at this stuff! I didn’t know goblins had a taste for fine silverware.”
Behind him, the bear lumbered along, the enormous sack of loot slung over its back. Every now and then, it glanced at the rogue as if contemplating whether to eat him.
“Goblins don’t have a taste for it,” the fighter said. “They steal it from travelers. We’re just… repossessing it.”
The rogue shrugged. “Loot’s loot.”
The cleric, walking a few paces behind the group, cleared her throat. “We’re losing focus. Shouldn’t we be talking about what we actually accomplished here? The goblin problem is dealt with, for now. But did anyone else think it was weird how quickly we found that cave?”
“Not weird,” Merrick said, adjusting his hat. “We had help. That goblin, what was his name? Skunk? Junk?”
“Gunk,” said the fighter. “Yeah, that was suspiciously easy. He gave us the exact location, told us about their defenses. If you can call marbles and sticks defenses. And then just… disappeared.”
The rogue snorted. “I told you, he probably ran off to loot the cave while we were fighting. Goblins are greedy little bastards.”
“Or,” said the cleric, narrowing her eyes, “he used us to wipe out his rivals. What if he wanted the cave for himself?”
The group fell silent, considering this. Even the bear looked contemplative, though that might have just been the sunlight hitting its teacup.
“Well,” the fighter said after a moment, “if that’s the case, I hope he enjoys it. Because we left that cave in shambles. Did you see how it collapsed? There’s no way anyone’s moving back in.”
“Maybe,” said the rogue. “But goblins are crafty. If Gunk survived, he’ll come up with something.”
Merrick sneezed again, startling the bear. “He’d better not. If I have to smell another goblin-infested hole in the ground, I’m going to lose it.”
The cleric sighed. “Either way, we should keep an eye out. If Gunk’s still alive, he might come looking for us. You know how goblins are with grudges.”
The rogue chuckled. “You’re worried about a single goblin with no cave, no weapons, and no loot? I think we’ll be fine.”
As they disappeared into the trees, none of them noticed the small figure perched on a distant rock, watching them with a toothy grin.
“Come looking for you?” Gunk muttered to himself, clutching his sack of scavenged loot. “Nah. You’ll be back soon enough. And when you are…” He glanced over at the ragged group of goblins behind him, already bickering over the single spoon.
“…we’ll be ready.”
To Be Continued…
This Cave Smells Like Troll
The goblins cheered as they stumbled into their discovery. The cave was enormous, spacious, and best of all, free from marbles.
“Light!” cried Grinkle, running in circles. “It has light! Look at this!”
“Air!” added Tunk, sticking his head into a shaft of sunlight and promptly sneezing. “Proper air, not mushroom fog!”
Gunk walked further into the cave, squinting. “And… stuff.”
The goblins froze. The “stuff” in question was definitely not theirs: a massive cauldron suspended over a soot-blackened fire pit, a pile of bones, and a suspiciously shabby cage big enough to hold three goblins (stacked vertically).
Grinkle poked the cauldron. “You think this is, like, free stuff?”
Tunk sniffed the air. “It smells bad.”
“That’s not bad,” Gunk said, his eyes darting around the cave. “That’s troll.”
“What?!” shrieked Grinkle, jumping back. “You mean…”
The cave shook as heavy, uneven footsteps echoed down the tunnel. A shadow fell across the goblins as a troll emerged into view, stooping to squeeze its enormous frame into the entrance.
Its warty skin was greenish-brown, its greasy, matted hair hung in clumps, and its sharp, yellowed teeth clicked together as it sniffed the air. “What is in my cave?” it rumbled.
The goblins panicked immediately.
“Oh no, not again!” yelled Tunk, diving behind the cauldron.
“It was Gunk’s idea!” screamed Grinkle, pointing at their leader.
Gunk grinned nervously, raising his hands. “Now, now, uh, Mister Troll, let’s not get hasty. We were just admiring your, uh, beautiful décor.”
The troll roared, its gangly arms swinging as it lunged toward them.
To Be Continued…
A Troll Problem
By some miracle, or, more likely, Gunk shoving them in the troll’s way, the goblins escaped. They regrouped just outside the cave, gasping for air and glaring at Gunk.
“You said it was empty!” Tunk accused.
“I thought it was empty!” Gunk retorted. “How was I supposed to know it had a troll?!”
“Because it smelled like troll!” Grinkle shrieked. “You literally said it smelled like troll!”
Gunk threw up his hands. “Fine! So it smells like troll and there’s a troll. What do we do now? We can’t go back to the old cave, we can’t stay out here, and we can’t fight it ourselves!”
“Maybe we could fight it,” muttered Tunk.
“With what? Mean looks and insults?” Gunk shot back. “No, no, no. What we need is someone big, mean, and stupid enough to do it for us. Adventurers!”
Grinkle recoiled in horror. “The humans?! We’d have to go to the human town!”
“It’s that or sleep in the forest,” Gunk said, gesturing to the dark line of trees.
The goblins shivered. “But the forest has forest goblins,” Tunk whispered.
“You ever met a forest goblin?” Grinkle asked in hushed tones. “They’re wild! Dangerous! They’ll steal your mushrooms and….”
The conversation was cut short by a roar.
The troll had returned, stomping out of the cave and squinting at them. “Did I say you could leave?”
The goblins scattered, but the troll was faster. With gangly arms swinging, it grabbed Tunk and Grinkle, shoving them into the shabby cage with a triumphant grunt.
Gunk, to his credit, was halfway down the hillside before he even registered the screaming.
To Be Continued…
Gunk and the No-Good, Very Creepy Forest
Gunk ran until the troll’s roars were distant and his lungs were burning. The sun was setting now, casting the forest in shadow. He looked around, realizing for the first time where he was.
“Oh no,” he muttered. “Not the forest.”
The air was thick with the hum of insects, the rustle of unseen creatures, and the occasional, distant howl. Gunk swore he saw a pair of glowing eyes blink at him from the underbrush.
“Stay calm, Gunk,” he whispered, stumbling into a hollow log. “You’re just regrouping. Yeah, regrouping. This is strategy!”
He cowered in the log as the forest came alive with unsettling noises: hoots, screeches, and something that sounded like a laugh but wasn’t.
By the time morning came, Gunk was bleary-eyed and jittery, having been woken up at least a dozen times by strange sounds.
“Never again,” he muttered. “Never the forest again.”
Dragging himself out of the log, he squinted up at a nearby tree. “Alright, let’s see where we are.”
Climbing up, Gunk scanned the horizon. To his relief, he spotted the human settlement just beyond the edge of the forest. He also noticed his reflection in a puddle on a branch: mud-covered, twig-filled, and wild-eyed. He looked more forest goblin than hillside goblin now.
“Well, this won’t end badly,” he muttered, shimmying back down. Dusting himself off and somehow making himself dirtier in the process. Gunk headed toward the human settlement.
He glanced back at the forest one last time. Somewhere in the distance, the troll’s roar echoed faintly.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered, smirking despite himself. “I’ll get you evicted soon enough.”
To Be Continued…
Troll Tales
The Grog’n’Ards Tavern was alive with the clamour of adventurers, townsfolk, and the unmistakable twang of Ard the Bard’s lute. Despite his advancing years, Ard’s fingers still danced across the strings like a younger man’s. His voice, however, had all the warmth of an irate crow.
“Spoons!” Ard barked, pointing a gnarled finger at the adventuring party huddled around a table. “Did you lot know the spoons you sold me were cursed?”
The rogue, lounging with his feet on the table, waved a dismissive hand. “Cursed? Please. They were goblin spoons. What did you expect? Class?”
“I expected them not to turn into snakes halfway through a stew!” Ard retorted.
The fighter crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “We didn’t know. Honest. The goblins were, let’s say, less than forthcoming about their tableware.”
Merrick, the wizard, adjusted his glasses nervously. “And to be fair, Ard, the snakes weren’t venomous.”
“Not the point!” Ard snapped. “This is a tavern, not an impromptu snake pit!”
From a nearby table, a grizzled man chimed in, raising his tankard. “That’s what you get for trusting goblins! Everyone knows you can’t trust a goblin!”
At that moment, a voice slithered into the conversation. “Ahem. I resent that.”
The party turned as one, spotting the small, mud-caked figure emerging from the shadows near the hearth. Gunk stood proudly, or as proudly as one can while still resembling a bundle of moss with teeth.
“You can’t trust hill goblins,” Gunk clarified, brushing twigs from his tattered tunic. “But forest goblins? Completely different story. We’re the good kind of goblin.”
The rogue burst out laughing, slapping the table. “Good goblins? That’s a first.”
The fighter tilted her head, eyeing Gunk with suspicion. “Forest goblin, huh? What’s a forest goblin doing lurking in a tavern?”
“Simple,” Gunk said, puffing out his chest. “I’ve got information. Valuable information. Dangerous information. The kind of information that saves villages. And because I’m so trustworthy, I’ll share it. For free.”
Ard snorted. “If a goblin’s offering something for free, it’s because they’ve already picked your pocket.”
“I have not picked anyone’s pocket!” Gunk protested, stepping closer to the adventurers. “I have, however, overheard a certain troll planning a certain attack on this very village. And as the only goblin around brave enough to warn you…”
The adventurers exchanged glances.
“Why would a troll care about attacking a village?” Merrick asked.
“Because he’s a troll!” Gunk exclaimed. “Big, mean, ugly, smelly. He doesn’t need a reason! He’s up there right now, in his cave at the top of the forest, sharpening his teeth and muttering about squishing humans. Do you want to risk it?”
“Do we believe him?” the fighter muttered to the group.
The rogue shrugged. “Goblins lie. But trolls do smash things.”
“I think we should listen,” the cleric said, in a low, growly voice. The others looked at the massive black bear sitting at the table.
“You’re only saying that because you are a bear,” Merrick said, wincing.
“I’m still a cleric!” the bear snapped. “And I know what it’s like to be unfairly judged based on appearances.”
“You did eat a honey cake that wasn’t yours yesterday,” Merrick pointed out.
“That was a personal struggle,” the bear muttered.
The fighter rubbed her temples. “Fine. If there’s even a chance this troll’s a threat, we’ll deal with it. But you,” she jabbed a finger at Gunk “are coming with us.”
“Me?!” Gunk yelped. “Oh no, you misunderstand. I was simply…”
“Showing us the way,” the fighter interrupted.
Merrick smirked. “Unless you’re lying about the troll.”
Gunk gulped, his grin faltering. “Lying? Me? Perish the thought! No, no, I’ll… I’ll lead you right to him. You’ll see!”
As the party gathered their weapons, Gunk adjusted the twig in his hair, trying to look “forest goblin chic.” As they walked out of the tavern into the crisp morning air, Ard called after them:
“If you survive, bring back something not cursed this time!”
Gunk trudged ahead of the group, muttering under his breath. “Trustworthy, huh? This is why I should’ve just stayed in the forest.”
To Be Continued…
Net Goblin
Gunk crouched low among the bushes at the forest’s edge, peering toward the troll cave. The adventurers were slipping inside, their armour glinting faintly in the dim light. He could hear the faint clinking of their weapons and whispered words, though he was too far to make out exactly what they were saying.
“Good luck,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re gonna need it.”
The forest around him buzzed with life. Somewhere overhead, a bird screeched, while the underbrush rustled with unseen creatures. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and moss, mingled with the faint, sour tang of rotting leaves. Gunk wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t a fan of the forest. It was too loud, too alive, and far too wet for his tastes.
Then, without warning, something heavy fell over him.
“Ahhh!”
Before Gunk could finish his yell, the net cinched tight around him, tangling his arms and legs. He flailed helplessly as he was yanked backward through the dirt, snapping twigs and scattering leaves.
“Hey! What’s going on?!” he shouted, twisting against the ropes.
“Quiet,” a voice hissed from somewhere behind him, sharp and low. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Gunk froze. He did know what was good for him. And right now, it probably involved shutting up.
To Be Continued…
Or My Next Meal
He was dragged deeper into the forest, the world growing darker as the dense canopy overhead swallowed the sunlight. The earthy smell grew stronger, mingling with the sharp scent of pine sap. Somewhere nearby, a frog croaked, and the rustling of his captor’s footsteps blended with the creak of the net.
When they stopped, Gunk barely had time to catch his breath before he was hauled into the air. The net swung precariously as it was hoisted up, his world tilting wildly.
“Hey! What’s the big idea?” he yelled, his voice cracking.
“Shush,” the voice said again, this time with a note of amusement.
The figure stepped into view, and Gunk’s jaw dropped.
The forest goblin standing before him was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her face, though sharp and angular like his own, was framed by wild tangles of moss and leaves. Her muddy skin glistened in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, and her eyes! Bright and mischievous, sparkling like dew drops on a spiderweb. Her clothing was a chaotic mix of woven vines and animal pelts, adorned with feathers and bones that clinked softly as she moved.
“Why did you capture me?” Gunk managed to croak, his voice suddenly hoarse.
The goblin smiled, her sharp teeth glinting. “Because you’re my new boyfriend. Or my next meal. Haven’t decided yet.”
Her voice was low and musical, like the hum of the forest at dusk. It sent a shiver down Gunk’s spine, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was fear or something else.
“Is there a difference?” he asked, swallowing hard. “Is this how forest goblins choose their boyfriends?”
“Yes,” she said, deadpan. “This is normal. So normal.”
“Normal for you or for forest goblins in general?”
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. “What do you think I am? Normal for me, of course. Are you suggesting I do this all the time?”
“How would I know?” Gunk shot back.
“Fair point,” she said with a shrug, pacing around him. “You’re just a stupid hill goblin, after all. I saw you crashing through the forest like an idiot last night while your friends were being stuffed into a cage by the troll.”
“I’m not a stupid hill goblin! Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m a mountain goblin!”
“Right now, you’re a net goblin,” she said with a smirk.
To Be Continued…
Nettle
Gunk squirmed in the ropes. “Who are you?”
“Nettle,” she said, leaning closer. Her scent was a strange but intoxicating mix of damp earth, crushed pine needles, and wildflowers. “I’m a sorceress. And a huntress. And now, your girlfriend. That’s your new life.”
“If I agree, will you let me out of this net?”
“Yes,” Nettle said, grinning wider.
“What does being your boyfriend involve?”
“The usual.”
“Oh.”
“Should I let you out, then?”
Gunk hesitated, his mind racing. “Let me think about it.”
Nettle rolled her eyes. “How long will that take?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
She sighed, tossing a handful of moss over her shoulder. “Fine. I’ll check on how your human adventurer buddies are doing with rescuing what’s left of your crappy tribe from the troll.”
Gunk blinked. “How do you know about that?”
“I told you. Sorceress and huntress.” Her voice dropped to a teasing lilt. “Besides, I’ve been stalking you for weeks. Without you even noticing.”
“What?!” Gunk panicked, his mind reeling. If that were true, she might know about… that one thing. And that other thing. And yet, somehow, even if she did know, she still wanted him to be her boyfriend.
“You didn’t have to put me in a net to persuade me,” Gunk said, struggling against the ropes. “You could’ve just asked!”
Nettle laughed, the sound soft and melodic. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I needed to establish who wears the boots in this relationship.”
With that, she disappeared into the undergrowth, her laughter fading into the hum of the forest. Gunk was left dangling, swaying in the net, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the height.
“Well,” he muttered, staring up at the canopy. “This is new.”
To Be Continued…
Troll Soup
The adventurers burst into the cave, weapons drawn and battle cries echoing off the damp stone walls. The troll, a massive, warty brute with gangly limbs, turned to face them, a wooden spoon comically small in his enormous hand. Behind him, a cauldron as big as a wagon simmered over a roaring fire, and inside it.
“Aaaahhh!” shrieked the goblins, thrashing in the bubbling broth. “It’s too hot! I think I’m stewing!”
“This is your fault, Gunk!” one of them shouted, shaking a scrawny fist at nothing in particular.
The troll grinned, revealing crooked, mossy teeth. “Troll soup,” he rumbled, stirring the cauldron with his oversized spoon. “Needs more salt.”
“Why that cunning little…” Merrick the wizard fumed, realization dawning. “That goblin tricked us! He’s using us to rescue his friends!”
“I mean, we were going to kill the troll anyway,” the fighter pointed out, hefting her sword.
“Yeah, but now I feel used,” Merrick muttered.
“Focus!” roared the bear cleric. “Troll first, feelings later!”
The troll lunged with a roar, swinging the spoon like a club, but he was no match for the seasoned adventurers. The fighter sliced clean through his shaggy arm, the rogue darted in to stab his ankle, and the cleric-turned-bear mauled him with divine fury. Merrick muttered a few arcane words, and a fireball exploded in the troll’s face, singeing what little hair he had left.
Within minutes, the troll was down, his severed head rolling across the floor.
“Another flawless victory,” the rogue said, dusting off his hands.
“Yeah, yeah,” Merrick said, eyeing the cauldron. “What about them?”
The goblins had gone quiet, staring up at their rescuers with wide, hopeful eyes.
“You’re welcome!” Merrick called.
“Help us out of here!” one goblin whined. “We’re getting pruny!”
“Should we?” asked the fighter.
“Nah,” Merrick said, waving them off. “They’ll cool down eventually. Besides, they probably needed a bath anyway.”
The adventurers doused the fire beneath the cauldron, packed up the troll’s head, and left, their laughter echoing down the mountainside.
To Be Continued…
Stewed
The goblins, meanwhile, settled into their stew.
“Well,” one of them said, leaning back against the cauldron’s edge. “This isn’t so bad now that the fire’s out. Feels… kind of relaxing, actually.”
“Yeah,” another goblin agreed, scrubbing mud off his arm. “Hot bath! Never had one of these before.”
“We’re gonna smell so fancy when Gunk gets back!”
They were halfway through discussing how they’d celebrate when a sharp voice interrupted them.
“Stop lounging around. You look ridiculous.”
The goblins turned to see a figure standing at the edge of the cave. Her sharp features were framed by moss and leaves, her outfit a patchwork of pelts and vines. She held a flint knife in one hand, its blade glinting in the dim light.
“Who are you?” one goblin asked, gawking.
“I’m Nettle,” she said, stepping forward. Her voice carried an air of authority, with just a hint of exasperation. “Gunk’s secret girlfriend.”
The goblins gasped.
To Be Continued…
The Rent Collector
“Gunk has a girlfriend?”
“Secret girlfriend!” another corrected, nodding sagely.
Nettle crouched beside the cauldron, cutting through the ropes that bound them. “He sent me. And those humans. To rescue you. So now you owe us another favor.”
“Wait, us?” asked a goblin as he clambered out of the cauldron. “You mean Gunk and you?”
“Yes,” Nettle said firmly, rising to her full height. “And don’t ask questions. You wouldn’t understand.”
The goblins huddled together, dripping broth. “He’s got a secret girlfriend!” one whispered, his tone reverent.
“She’s so… bossy!” another said, eyes wide.
“That’s how you know she’s the real deal.”
Nettle ignored them, pacing around the cave. “This place is mine now. You can stay—on one condition.”
“What condition?” asked the goblin with the biggest ears.
“Rent,” Nettle said, folding her arms. “Pay up by the full moon, or you’re out.”
The goblins exchanged nervous glances.
“What’s rent?”
“It’s where you give me shiny things, food, and whatever else I want. Regularly.”
“Ohhhh,” the goblins chorused. They huddled again, whispering furiously. Finally, one of them turned to her.
“Okay, we agree. We don’t want to lose another home. This one’s nice.”
“Good,” Nettle said, slipping her knife into her belt. “I’ll be back to collect. Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll know.”
As she turned to leave, one goblin piped up. “Are you really Gunk’s girlfriend? Like, for real?”
Nettle paused, smirking over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
With that, she vanished into the shadows, her laugh echoing behind her.
The goblins stood in silence for a moment, still dripping.
“Gunk has a secret girlfriend,” one said finally, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Yeah,” another agreed. “And we owe her rent.”
They all sighed.
“This is why we should’ve stayed in the old cave.”
To Be Continued…
Welcome to the Nest
Nettle sauntered back into the clearing where Gunk dangled miserably in the net, arms folded and grumbling under his breath.
“Took your time,” Gunk muttered.
“Don’t get snippy, net goblin,” Nettle teased, pulling out her flint knife. With a few quick slices, the ropes fell away, and Gunk hit the ground with a thud.
“Ow.” He rubbed his head, squinting up at her.
“You’re fine,” Nettle said, yanking him to his feet. “Now, come on. Time to meet the family.”
“Family?” Gunk asked nervously, brushing twigs and dirt off his ragged clothes.
Nettle grinned. “Yeah. All of them.”
The forest goblin camp was unlike anything Gunk had ever seen. Perched high among the trees, dozens of ramshackle treehouses made from sticks, vines, and scavenged scraps blended seamlessly into the dense foliage. From below, they looked like oversized bird nests, teetering precariously on thick branches.
The camp was alive with activity. Forest goblins darted between trees, their green-and-brown mottled skin making them nearly invisible in the shadows. One moment, Gunk would spot a goblin sharpening a bone dagger or carrying a bundle of berries; the next, they’d vanish into the leaves as if they were never there.
“Impressive, huh?” Nettle said, noticing his wide-eyed stare.
“Uh… yeah,” Gunk admitted, though he was mostly wondering how the nests didn’t collapse under the weight of so many goblins.
Nettle led him up a ladder of knotted vines to the largest nest in the center of the camp. It was a sprawling structure that looked as though several smaller nests had been glued together, with a roof of interwoven leaves and a crude banner made of stitched-together rat hides flapping lazily in the breeze.
Inside, Gunk was greeted by the sight of the biggest goblin he had ever seen. Nettle’s mother, the queen of the forest goblins, was a mountain of a goblin, her wide frame spilling over the edges of a throne made from twisted branches and moss. Her skin was a deep, mossy green, and her sharp eyes gleamed with a mix of cunning and amusement. Around her flitted dozens of goblin children, chattering and squabbling as they climbed over her like tiny monkeys.
“Mother,” Nettle said, giving a respectful nod.
“Nettle,” the queen rumbled, her voice as deep as a cave. She barely glanced at Gunk, instead focusing entirely on her daughter. “And who’s this one? Another boyfriend?”
“Obviously,” Nettle replied, shrugging.
“What happened to the last one?” the queen asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
“Oh, you know,” Nettle said airily. “He was useless, so I… let him go.”
“Let him go,” the queen repeated, raising a bushy eyebrow.
“Yes, Mother,” Nettle said firmly. “He’s gone now. This one’s better.”
The queen finally turned her gaze on Gunk, who froze under her scrutiny. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“I grow on people,” Gunk mumbled.
“Hmph,” the queen snorted. “Well, don’t grow too much. We don’t have a lot of food.”
To Be Continued…