“A THIEF!” Spoon is rolling in the dirt, heaving as her shrill voice carries down the mountain.
“Hey, it’s really not that funny.”
“Yes.It.IS!” Spoon bawls before catching her breath and giving me a wide toothy grin, “So what? You steal some stick, and you get to be the worst class a goblin can ever have!?”
I can feel my face flush with anger that I don’t bother to bite down. “How do you know it’s the worst!”
She tilts her head, which looks even more quizzical since she’s on the floor. Come to think of it, she’s starting to remind me of that brown and black dog from earlier when she does that... “Because if it was any good… YOU WOULDN’T BE THE ONLY GOBLIN DOING IT!”
And then she goes back to laughing.
I hate her.
And I want to stalk off but to do so would give her a moral victory, and my last days as a raider won’t be spent taking losses. NO! What does a stupid Shaman know about the Thief Class? Or why I want to stop raiding?! Sitting here safe in the village all day!
“Ok, shut up!”
Of course, she doesn’t listen.
“Well fuck you! Stupid shaman, what do you know anyway? All you do is practice, practice practice, and for what! You’re useless on a raid! You can’t beat a human wizard or an elven sorcerer. Even dwarven sages are better than you! At least I help out every day!”
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Spoon stops laughing and sits up. Her eyes don’t narrow or start crackling with bad intentions. Instead, she gets up, dusts herself off, and sits down. Leaning back, she cracks her knuckles and yawns. Then casually, without me even realizing she is going to speak—
“You’re right.”
I look at her with a dumbfounded expression while reaching for a drink that isn’t there—
“We’re rather useless… What’s your name?”
“Rock.” I nod.
“Rock”—she shrugs—“yeah, we’re useless, but… don’t tell anyone I said that, or I’m nominating you for practice!”
I watch her intently, in much the same way you watch an exceptionally dangerous animal that is mostly being completely silent and hoping they don’t notice you, as she continues—
“I want to FIGHT, you know, and RAID! Yeezus, I want to raid, but the Chief forbids it. Something about humans must never know we have mages! Who cares! The only thing we’re good for is whipping misbehaving goblins! But we never get to see the rest of the tribe! It’s Aunt this and Great Aunty that! Fuck being a Shaman. Fuck staying in a hut with all my smelly sisters! And fuck the Chief!”
Not sure whether to applaud or be scared, but I toe the line between the emotions. “Why the Chief?”
“Because he thinks Shamans shouldn’t Raid, and he’s wrong!”
Good point. We sit here in silence, both of us kinda letting the words spoken hang and our minds wander. A breeze kicks in as the sun melts into the horizon, as the grass sways in the valleys below. I never appreciated the view from Mount Gabo before but now… it’s kinda beautiful. And I hate it.
There are humans down there, and we’re only safe because we’re hiding up here. They have plenty of food, plenty of warm places to sleep, plenty of time to laugh and grow old. I HATE IT! An overwhelming feeling of inferiority spurs me to throw a rock as hard as I can, hoping that it lands on a large human’s stupid head.
“You-your serious about stealing from the Chief?”
I look at Spoon, noting how small she seems even by Goblin standards, and shrug. “It beats fighting an overpowered human.”
Concern spreads on her face. “It can’t be that bad… can it?”