There were hero’s around. This always meant problems. Heroes are supposed to be good. They defend the innocent, slay the villains and defend your grandma’s farm from goblins. Which is good for grandmothers, but not so good for the goblins. So to a goblin having an existential crisis heroes are a particular challenge.
Djumbe was well doing nothing in particular. She seemed to do a lot of that these days, ever since graduation. The problem was a Goblin with an education was regarded as an oxymoron to the uninformed. Like other goblins, and employers. When she had left her clan to go to school she had left for good. Now she was wondering why.
Beyond the ally she was sitting in she could see the spark of mettle hitting mettle. Hear the twang of bows and the chanting of a wizard about to unleash some unimaginable explosive death. In short exactly the thing every little goblin is taught to run from.
To Djumbe it was a strange fascination. She sat on an old barrel that once held coffee beans staring at the battle between two teams of heroes and saw a possible future. “I could just do it,” she thought to herself. “Could just go out there and…” a rather large explosion split the night and halted this line of thought.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good solution after all. It would be glorious, spectacular, and most likely short. She looked down at the sewer, thinking of the goblin-king. Home below the ground. Her father’s words. “No child of mine is going to study in that fancy elven school. If you go you’d best never come back.” Well He hadn’t used so many words, but Djumbe knew that’s what he had meant.
The rhythmic sound of sword on shield set her heart beating like a war drum. Like the drum she used to play in, in school. She deflated thinking about it. Her locker had been just the right size. Stuffed with pillows it had been quite comfortable. She was going to miss that locker. She really did now. The problem was, the real problem was, all that stuff that’s supposed to happen after graduation, the job, the money, the place to live, hadn’t. No one tells you that you have to figure it all out on your own. This was why the clashing adventurers were beginning to look like a searous option.
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All of a sudden a green haired elf darted around the corner, bumped in to the barrel, and knocked Djumbe out of her philosophizing, physically. She picked herself from her newly grounded state and glared.
“Sorry man. Hey Djumbe is that you.”
“M-Mossy? What you do?”
Mossy picked himself and dusted off his cloths., “well I just started at the magic mug, amazing place to work by the way, they’re hiring a bunch of people for the summer. Any way I was on my way to band practice when.” He gestured at the conflagration behind him. “It just seemed safer to take the back way. Hey what are you doing here?”
“Dreaming.” Djumbe said staring out of the ally.
“Funny place to dream, what are you dreaming about?”
“Future.”
“Oh man, don’t get me started about the future. I thought I had a plan for the future, but that got smashed so.” He paused and looked down as if morning the loss of a near and dear friend. “Anyway that’s why I’m working at the Mug. Hopefully I can get a new one.” A particularly loud explosion came from the fighting heroes. “Well I’d better be going I’m late for practice. Bye.”
Djumbe didn’t watch him leave. Her eyes were fixed at the mouth of the ally and the hero’s beyond. “Damn looks like that ended it.” She thought to her self. The moment had passed. The crowd was already beginning to fill the square after the battle. To a local a fight between teams of dangerous and deadly warriors was just a temporary inconvenience. Just as soon as it was clear the fight was over everyone went about business as usual.
The young goblin turned away grumbly to walk back down the ally “wait? What was that he said about getting a new future?”