Goblinkin a deckbuilding.., p.6
Goblinkin: A Deckbuilding LitRPG, page 6
“The great green goddess?”
“Oh yes. Mighty Magdagrotta!”
“Magdagrotta?” Imelda said, trying not to laugh. “Sounds familiar.”
“I suppose it makes sense. If the goblins really have lived in the jungle that long they must have encountered the goddess when she visited this world.” Sarkuran ducked beneath a branch as he followed. The explosion of the beetle had soured his mood, the suit jacket he had taken to wearing after the trip to Thot-Ankor now ruined. “She seems to have made the time to make herself known to as many as possible.”
“Yeah, but why not mention them then?” Magda said.
“Why would it? They probably didn’t see any difference between like, goblins, or humans, or wyrmkin or anything like that. Or maybe the goblins were just content to stay in their jungle and not live at the tower.”
“You talk lots,” Grobbit said, feeling left out of the conversation. “You say you from old tower?”
“That’s right, yeah.”
“That unlucky place. All peoples there leave or die. Goblins stay in jungle where it safe, livings in our caves where monsters no get us. Building big huts very silly, like saying here I am sharpteeth come eat me!”
“He’s got a point,” Imelda said. “We would try and move our camp regularly to avoid attracting any of the forest monsters.”
“And yet, you were in a feud with people over who owned a static village,” Gareth said. “You ever think about that.”
“A village right over a spot that keeps monsters away, remember? Besides a few houses isn’t the same thing as a whole city, and you’ve got to admit that the ancients are way more dangerous than anything in my forest. They tend to be a bit more on the bitey side,” Imelda said. “Who knows though, it was so long ago and not even Henig has any can of idea what happened to his people in the end.”
“Something certainly did,” Sarkuran said. “It’s probably worth our consideration. Magda should keep an eye out in her books perhaps.”
Magda glanced over her shoulder to snarl at Sarkuran. “You know, you could maybe help. You can read these books as well as anyone thanks to your tattoo.”
“Far too busy trying to improve our safety.”
“You mean telling the groblins to do something whilst you just stand and watch?”
Sarkuran tilted his head upwards, offended at the accusation. “I supervise. It’s a vitally important step in this kind of process.”
“If you say so,” Magda said.
“What is groblin?” Grobbit said. It was impossible for him to ignore the word.
“Oh, right,” Gareth said. “It’s…well it’s a kind of goblin. Like distant cousins from another tribe.”
Grobbit came to a sudden stop, spinning around to face the party. He seemed to bounce excitedly from foot to foot, the implication exciting him in a way the little creature would struggle to describe.
“You have goblin? Amongst you?” Grobbit said, tripping over his words as he spoke.
“Yeah, we do,” Gareth said.
“More and More! Grobbit right! Grobbit said to boss that he thinkings he see weird goblin in jungle, but boss not believe him.”
“You’ve been spying on us?” Imelda said.
“Not spyings, no. Watch. Grobbit is explorer, seek jungle for new and exciting doings. See people in threes, two goblins with them but they wear strange skins. Cover all body and with eye holes on head.”
“Eye holes?” The wyrmkin raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“I think he means the goggles Krunk and Mazel have,” Gareth said. There was a thunk as he tapped the top of his mask to make his point, the wooden artefact slid to the top of his head so he could see clearly. “Certainly sounds like those two anyway.”
“Boss will be happy with Grobbit. Says Grobbit waste time. No more doings to discover, all jungle searched. Silly boss,” the goblin said.
“Silly boss indeed,” Magda said with a smile. Something about the small creature before her was amusing. Its emotions were so clear that it didn’t see any need to hide or filter them. “You know, Grobbit, there’s a whole wide world out there. Far, far bigger than the forest. There are mountains and seas and oceans and deserts and a hundred thousand other things. That’s where we were going when we found you, we were leaving the jungle on a mission.”
“Mission? Like Grobbit’s searchings?”
“Exactly. That’s what we do see, travel around the world, helping people, slaying monsters, putting things right.” That wasn’t strictly true of Magda and her friends, they were focused on one particular goal, but it was truer of duellists in general. “Does that make sense?”
“Oh yes, Grobbit understands. Really important you see the boss now.”
“Why?”
“Goblins need those doings. Monsters causings us troubles, so we need the helps. The puttings rights.”
“I mean,” Gareth said with a shrug. “Well, if they do need help, we should probably give it. I can’t think of anything that will smooth over any problems better than that. It will probably put us in good stead the goblins and if that’s the case we won’t need to worry about them. Not that we really do, not like they’re a threat to Luthor are they?”
“Who Luther?” Grobbit said.
“Oh, the big dragon around the tower.”
“Oh, the king sharptooth. No, no we stay far away from beastie like that. Goblin easy munching.” Grobbit shuddered at the thought of being swallowed alive. For something as large as Luthor he would hardly be more than a crumb. “Now there a lot of goblin, but that just mean a lot of munching.”
“How many of you are there?” Gareth said.
***
The answer was a lot more than Gareth expected. Grobbit had shown the group through the forest for over an hour before finally reaching a cliff face that rose up from the tree line. At the top, the jungle continued as if there simply wasn’t a sheer wall of rock in its way, trees covering the top. The cliff was filled with holes, some natural and some chiselled away. Goblins poured out of them, vast swarms of the green creatures moving and out of every entrance.
“That’s uh, a lot of goblins,” Magda said. It was more than a simple understatement.
“There had to be hundreds of them,” Gareth said. “So many, and we’ve just missed them up to now?”
“To be fair, it’s not like we’ve been seeking them out and they’ve probably been avoiding us,” Sarkuran said. His eyes danced across the swarms as they went about their lives, more than one set of eyes staring back.
“Still, there’s so many of them.”
“Oi!” Grobbit shouted. He had quickly wandered off into the crowd and had become impossible to tell apart. The little creature seemed aware of this and jumped up and down to make himself noticeable. “Come on, the boss wants to do the talkings!”
Chapter Six
The interior of the burrows split off into dozens more holes, the whole cliff face dug through like an ant nest. It was an impressive feat considering the small size and low-tech level of the goblins, little more than basic stone tools and some simple woodworking on display. The warrens were lit by a familiar sight, the warm sunlight emitted by sunstones. That they existed somewhere in the jungle was an interesting wrinkle, the export of the stones from the forest near Wildermount had been the main trade of Imelda’s clan and they had always assumed that the stones were unique to their home.
“It’s uh, a nice place you’ve got here,” Gareth said, his head swivelling about as he took in everything he could. Where there was space on the walls the goblins had covered the stone in crude images of ancients, visual depictions of the predators around them. It reminded Gareth of the kind of paintings attributed to cavemen back on Earth. Gareth realised he was in an interesting position, one that any anthropologist would be intensely jealous of. With the groblins back at the tower Gareth now had access to goblins at both ends of the societal scale, like putting Fred Flinstone next to George Jetson.
“Many thankings!” Grobbit said as he worked his way effortlessly through the crowd of goblins. The creatures moved aside as Gareth and the others approached and the party assumed that the main corridor was a natural cavern from the way they could stand up. Some of the smaller holes that the crowd were sliding into would have meant crawling on their hands and knees. “We diggings for long time. Many broken nail.”
“I can imagine,” Magda said, running a hand across the rock. “This place must be nice and safe from the ancients.”
“Ancient?” said Grobbit, confused by the term.
“Sharptooths,” Magda said, remembering what the goblin had called them.
“Against the big teeths, yes, very safes. They too big. But the smalls are sneaky, goblins need to keep eyes peeled for them.”
“Yeah, I imagine you do.” Gareth could easily form a picture in his mind of a raptor or similarly sized ancient getting into the tunnels. All sorts of carnage could ensue if the goblins weren’t careful, though their longevity spoke to them having learnt to cope. “You must have some great warriors.”
“Goblins can fightings if needs, but much better at hiding, yes? Goblin small so goblin very sneak.”
“Considering we didn’t see you for this long, very sneak indeed.”
“I wonder if the goblins have had any trouble with the skitherak?” Sarkuran said. His eyes followed a cluster of goblin children who didn’t have the same apprehension as the adults, the tiny creatures running right past the former demon lord. “This kind of warren network would make an excellent hive I have to imagine.”
“Big bugs,” Magda whispered to Grobbit before he could ask what a skitherak was.
“Buglies are easy to sneaks! They no like smells of pink berries so you squeezes berries near goblin homes. They smell nasty smells and leaves! Easy!” Grobbit raised his arms in celebration as if he personally had made this discovery.
“That’s useful to know,” Imelda said. “A lot of bugs use smells for things, maybe these berries mimic one of them.”
“Like pheromones,” Gareth said.
“Like what now?” Imelda didn’t recognise the word.
“Pheromones. Basically, lots of animals kind of talk to others of their kind with smells. This smell means danger, this smell means it’s looking for romance, that kind of thing. It’s really common. Some people reckon even humans have them though I don’t think they’ve ever proven it.”
“Huh,” Imelda said. Normally Gareth’s rants about his homeworld weren’t very useful but she had experienced what he was describing, certain creatures in the forest could release potent scents when in danger. It struck her that it was as useful a way of communication as anything else. “That’s actually pretty interesting.”
“Ok, nearly heres!” Grobbit announced, pointing towards a warren entrance at the far end of the tunnel. It was flanked by two wooden poles that were covered in feathers and bone; trophies collected from the jungle by the goblins. “Stayings heres whilst Grobbit tellings boss man about you.”
“Right, ok then,” Gareth said. Grobbit hadn’t warned the goblin warrens that the group was coming but that was a good thing. The goblins hadn’t reacted in a hostile manner to strangers which meant they weren’t aggressive. He watched a Grobbit scuttled off excitedly towards the sheet of rough woven cloth that covered the entrance of the warren. “Guess we wait.”
“Hello there,” Magda said, waving to another group of children as they passed, the goblins waving back. “This place is kind of impressive, especially when you consider they don’t seem to have metal tools. Carving all this out must have taken a long time. I don’t think Grobbit was being serious when he said that they had done it by hand, right?”
“I somewhat doubt it,” Sarkuran said. “If goblins could tunnel through solid stone, I feel like such information would be common knowledge.”
“He said there was trouble,” Imelda said. She gestured at the tunnels around her. “Doesn’t look like it. These goblins seem to be thriving.”
“It could easily be something outside the warren,” Gareth said. “Some monsters or something probably. Guess we’ll find out when we get let in. It’s a bit like waiting in a doctor’s office right now. You know I always hated that, you get an appointment for say, two in the afternoon, you turn up on time and then don’t get seen till two thirty. Why not say two thirty to start with?”
“I don’t think scheduling works like that.” Imelda rolled her eyes at Gareth’s complaint. “What if an appointment runs over? That seems pretty likely.” She had no experience of what Gareth was describing, Imelda had never seen a doctor herself. Any illness amongst the clan was treated by the elders, knowledge of healing techniques was shared openly. Despite this, the concept of a doctor wasn’t alien to her, even if most citizens of Wildermount opted for the drastically cheaper local apothecary most of the time.
“Well then do less appointments if that’s a risk, have people turn up later than you would have had them come in otherwise.”
“What if an appointment takes less time than expected in this scenario?” Sarkuran said. “Then your business would have a lot of dead time. That costs money, correct? I’ve not run a business myself unless you count my empire, but that seems like the obvious logic here.”
Magda chuckled. “He’s got you there. This just sounds like a Gareth problem.”
“You would understand if you were me,” Gareth muttered. “Anyway, I wonder what’s taking so long?”
“It probably requires some effort to convince this boss that we’re not hostile,” Sarkuran explained. “Grobbit has just walked into his warren with some complete strangers in tow. I would have a few questions if I was in charge.”
Almost as if summoned Grobbit remerged through the curtain and strode confidently towards the party. He had a grin stretched across his face, one that revealed his rows of jagged teeth. It was easy to see why most people considered goblins terrible monsters from appearance alone.
“Good, good. Boss will speakings with you,” Grobbit said. “Boss is big times goblins, so do many respectings. You will help, yes? Because Grobbit already promises.”
“We’ll help,” Gareth said. Whatever problem the goblins had he was certain that it would be minor. After all, they wouldn’t be living so carefree if it was a major issue and he was certain he and his friends could handle anything that the jungle had to offer. Once it was dealt with they could carry on to their destination, safe in the knowledge that the ingratiated goblins should be no threat to the towers. “You don’t have to worry there.”
“Boss will be pleased. Come, come, through here,” Grobbit said, striding back towards the doorway. “In, in!”
Gareth entered the room first, with his staff marking him as a goblin priest that made the most sense. Anything they could do to smooth over the meeting was a good idea, Gareth had no idea what to expect from the goblin leader. His cards contained a wide variety, from haggard den mothers to the legendary king of the goblins.
What he saw was something in between. Sat on a throne made of ancient bones was a goblin that was advanced in its year. What exactly that meant for his age was a mystery, Gareth had no clue how long goblins lived, but from the deep wrinkles and much darker green skin, it was obvious the boss was a tribal elder of some kind. The goblin was clutching a staff that was remarkably similar to Gareth’s, its other hand scratching its chin as it pondered the newcomers.
“Grobbits speakings are trues. You are not goblin, and yet you are goblin. In my many seasons, I never seeings this things. You are friend yes? Goblin friend?” the goblin said. It sounded more intrigued than anything else.
“Yes, goblin friend,” Gareth said. It was interesting that Grobbit had apparently noticed the changes Gareth was going through. He couldn’t help but wonder at what point would he not count as human anymore. “We’ve even got goblins back where we’re from. We must say we didn’t know your people were here in the rainforest, or we would have introduced ourselves sooner.”
The elder nodded. “Goblins hides. Watches. Waits. Is goblin sacred task from great Magdagrotta! Grobbit speakings you from the old place?”
“That’s right,” Magda said. “We’re from the tower, the old place.”
“Strange, strange. Story speakings from long ago, many seasons. Grobbit explorings do something useful for once. Very strange.”
“So, uh, I’m Gareth, this is Magda, Sarkuran and Imelda. What’s your name?”
“Boss,” the goblin replied without missing a beat.
Gareth nodded politely. “Yeah, I got that you’re the boss, but I mean what’s your name?”
“Goblin name Boss. When Boss die, new Boss chosen. Always a Boss.”
“It sounds to me like a goblins name literally changes to Boss when they take charge,” Sarkuran whispered into Gareth’s ear. “A hereditary name of sorts.”
“Right, sorry, Boss. I understand now.” It was a custom that some royal families on Earth practised, changing their name when they took charge. “Grobbit said you had a problem that needs help with? A monster, I think. We can help with that, with our magic.”
“Magics? Then maybe you can help with problems. Many problems. Monster nearby, scary monster. Not attacking goblin but will soon. Grobbit very brave to explore.”
“Right, so there’s something nearby that’s impeding their territory. At least they’re not under direct attack,” Imelda said. “Still, they’re probably right, if there’s an aggressive monster nearby it will inevitably wander over this direction. It’s more forward-thinking than I would have expected from them honestly.”
“Well, I mean, we’re happy to help, Boss. We can deal with a monster no problem,” Gareth said. “Trust us.”
Boss nodded, a few thin strands of dark green hair flopping about on his head. “Good, good. Monster is in ruins on sunrise doings, two days walk for goblin, maybe quicker doings for you.”
Quest Accepted: Defeat the monster in the ruins near the goblin caves.
Reward: 2000 experience points.
Gareth tried to stifle his groan. The experience reward for quests he found tended to represent how hard they would be. Two thousand experience meant that the monster wouldn’t be a pushover.
