The Purple Magical Goop, or PMG, is a strange mystical fluid reserve that seems to have been appearing in the wilderness recently. While I’d love to call it something cliche like “purple gold,” this won’t instill the same desire in these people that it should, seeing how there is little interest in acquiring riches among these uncivilized folk. However, the value of the goop goes far beyond that of gold, or even oil. After a day or two of experimentation, having absorbed a good amount of the fluid through my hands, I’ve gained the ability to project small blasts of energy forth from them. In turn, this has only reinforced the way the goblins look at me as powerful and competent.
After a day or two of practice, I realized how powerful this ability could truly be. However, it was accompanied by a bout of sickness which has prevented me from continuing to absorb the essence. The fluid seemed to splash off of my hands when I stuck them back in once again, and I can only assume this means that I must first get stronger. I’ve since blocked off the PMG Well, and employed two well paid (in Yummynuts) guards, by the names of Flit and Flott. Rather than pay them in Yummynuts outright, they get a labor voucher, which is valued at 20 Yummynuts a piece. In addition, I gave each of them a tiny amount of the PMG. Thus far, we’ve yet to find many maligned actors in the world of Tollaria, but if the PAM returns to the area before I meet him at Rosehill, Flit and Flott can buy some time, alongside the local goblin militia I’ve been training.
“As the two most well paid goblins in the area, you two have shown you are the most competent, Flit and Flott.” I say to the two, their eyes fixated intently on my mouth as I speak. “I’m entrusting you with this power. Do not use it to defraud me, or there will be consequences. Ensure that no other goblins reach into the PMG, and that if the PAM returns, the militia is ready to fight. I am preparing to travel to Rosehill, to face the PAM in person.” I drip a drop from a vial on the hand of each of the guards, and walk away. The two will take time to absorb the power, surely.
“We are ready to head to Rosehill, Skan.” I say to him, as I enter the tent once again.
He stands up, already wearing a light boiled leather chestplate, and holding a stone sword at his side. A few of the goblins have begun learning how to make sharper stone blades, as the need for combat has appeared in this world. While I would love to focus on using this emerging labor force to dig out mines and start creating more taxable forms of labor, it is important that I do not allow competition to undercut me and take the goblin forces which I have amassed from me. I know that the goblins will thrive under me, while they will surely be forced into slavery under that man. I have made this very clear to them, as they have willingly worked to better themselves against a potential attack.
“The militia is ready to march. Seven goblins, myself, Lyrie, and you. A party of 10. Rosehill by foot should take about 9 hours.”
“Do we not have draft animals, or carts?”
“The only carts we’ve used are pushed. Using animals to move them is a brilliant idea!” Skan is beaming.
“Ideally, we don’t have to, the grain is expensive. However, until these goblins are civilized, I don’t anticipate the engine coming into existence any time soon.”
“Engine? Like one of those spheres the Antiquarians use?”
“The Antiquarians? Like, they collect artifacts?” I haven’t heard Skan reference this group to this point, so it’s surprising to me.
“They do research, further north of Rosehill. Mages and shamans gather in the Antiquarian’s Hall from all across the world and practice magic, sharing objects among themselves, which they then use to help their communities and people.”
“So they keep the magic to themselves?”
“I’m sure they’d share if you asked nicely.” Skan smiles again. “Well, let’s get going to Rosehill. We’ll surely stop that Purple Armored Man this time, Chief Officer!” Skan steps out of the tent, I follow his lead back to his homeland, and the 7 goblins and Lyrie begin to follow in our wake.
Leaving just at sunrise, the villas of Rosehill start to come into sight as we’re in the late afternoon. The flowers cover a range across the hilly landscape, and a light wind blows through. The smell of smoke and smog wafts through the air, though, and a pungent, sulfuric scent accompanies it moments afterwards. Suddenly, I hear shouting, and a family runs out of a villa as a flame erupts from one wall. Two strange, demonic creatures are standing, hurling weak fireballs at the building, which quickly ignite the straw siding holding it together. A man, wearing a long purple cloak, which looks like a fine drapery might on the second floor of your mansion, stands, cross-armed, behind them. He turns and notices our party of ten.
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“Bwahaha! I hadn’t considered using the locals!” He throws back his hood, and reveals a balding, yellowish head, with dark, sullen eyes. He has a golden tooth in his mouth, towards the front of his teeth, and unshaved whiskers on his chin. “And you must be the fifth one, then?”
“Me?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, you! The rest of us were wondering when he would appear! What, are you not aware of what this whole world is? An untapped world of riches and greatness, ripe for the taking!”
“No, that simply won’t be the case. I won’t allow you to just take whatever you want.” That is my goal, and mine alone.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re some kind of noble hero, and that this world has truly changed you. We all got sent here as a part of a bet. You, myself, the other three.” He smiles, like we’re all friends, and like I’m not going to kill him. If what he’s saying is true, he deserves no mercy. He’s just… burning down perfectly good property, and crashing local property value on top of it. “So, what did you choose for your wish?” As he asks this, I raise my hand and fire a singular bolt of purple energy. It knocks right into his chest, and sends him flying backwards down the hill, flowing through a river of red roses as he tumbles backwards. The goblins, Iskander, and Lyrie understand the moment and prepare for a fight, as the two imp-like creatures arm themselves with flaming spears.
“What are those? Demons?” I shout over to the Drapery Wizard.
“No shit, asshole!” He stands up and dusts himself off. The goblins begin a charge against the imps, and the Drapery Wizard suddenly summons a portal with his hand, and two more imps crawl forth, but are quickly overrun by goblins. The Drapery Wizard suddenly looks panicked, and starts walking backwards, trying to hold the high ground. I close the distance myself, left hand illuminated with a purple aura, matching his drapes. I launch another bolt of energy as he tries to plant his foot and summon more imps, and he tumbles backwards once more, and the goblins subdue any remaining imps. I march closer, Iskander at my flank.
“Bend the knee, Drapery Wizard!” I shout at him, holding my own blade with two hands and looking down at him, trying to stand while using his knees to get up. “Keep it bent!”
“First of all, that’s not my name, dickhead. How would you like it if I called you…” He pauses, looks me up and down, and then spits out his next words with venom, “ugly suit guy?”
“Before you continue with your second line, let me tell you, my suit is not--” I wind up and kick him in the mouth, “--fucking ugly!” Caught off guard, he takes the force of the kick unmitigated, and his golden tooth flies free. “This is my territory. I never want to see you back here again. If I do, I will k--” I look at my allies. If I threaten to kill this man, they may be upset. “I will show you no mercy.” I pick up the tooth, and put it in my pocket.
The Drapery Wizard scurries to his feet, bleeding profusely now from his mouth. He suddenly casts a portal on the ground, and falls forward into it, without saying a word. The portal closes behind him, but I believe he got the memo.
“You’re so powerful and competent, Chief Executive.” Lyrie says, admiration in her voice. It feels good to be recognized for my ability.
“You saved us! Thank you!” A young human man runs out of one of the villas towards me. Many other humans come out with them.
“How can we reward you for this?” One of them asks. For a moment, I feel something twinge inside of me. I almost respond, instinctually, with, ‘Your thanks is reward enough,’ but quickly bury the thought as I regain control of my own tongue. Whatever illness prompted that thought to come forth is suppressed, and I speak my own words.
“I don’t suppose this town has any resources or belongings beyond roses?” I ask, simply. “I’m looking to expand my available markets and access more materials to help advance this world and protect it from interlopers such as that man.” I stay quiet about my true motives. While the goblins were easy to deceive, and Iskander is ridiculously naive, I am unsure of how wise these humans are.
A man in a white robe suddenly walks forth from the crowd. He’s dressed differently, more dignified. “The fifth one, hm?” He’s old and has a long white beard, and a wrinkled face with a crooked nose.
“You are?” I ask the man, surprised that anyone heard that line from Drapery Wizard.
“My name is Lucan. I am a member of the Antiquarians. I don’t suppose you would like to speak with us, rather than project more evil magic into this world? The other four have been unresponsive to our invitations.”
“A networking opportunity. I accept.”