Snarl snuck out of the cave once it was sure that Silent Death was gone. There wasn’t much snow to hide him, and the foliage was nonexistent. Snarl risked its life to go outside. And it felt glorious.
Armed with a pointy stick that wouldn’t break easily, and with its incredible wits, Snarl Went through the last of the snow and into the trees. It would not be hard to find other goblins, now. It would only need to find their scent and the muddy footprints they left in the wet soil.
It would not take long for Snarl to find them. It just needed to find the direction the feet were going and then maybe it would have to make traps to catch one of them, then make it lead them to their weak and cowardly leader.
‘Its the Warren Lord!’ A goblin screeched next to him. ‘We’ve found the Warren Lord, we’ve found it!’
Maybe Snarl did not find them after all.
The large group appeared from behind the trees, rocks, from within the holes in the ground. Some with huge ears – none bigger than his, naturally. Some with long feet. All of them starving.
Snarl hissed loudly and stabbed the sharp wooden stick into the ground, the hissing did not stop until the other goblins began to cower. ‘Who is your eldest?’ Snarl demanded.
‘You wish to meet the Oracle?’ a tiny goblin meekly said, flinching as Snarl stared towards it.
An Oracle? Snarl did not even know what that meant, but if it was a named goblin, there would be a ferocious battle ahead of it, and it made it grin, revealing the sharp teeth inside its large mouth. ‘Your leader?’
The tiny goblin dropped into the ground, prostrating. ‘Please Save the Oracle,’ It nearly cried.
Snarl tilted its head to the side. Why would one save their goblin opponent rather than engage them in glorious and bloody belly jousts? These goblins looked defeated and broken. That could only mean one thing…
‘Take me to the Oracle,’ Snarl squeaked.
There were some hopeful faces, some happy ones. The near deadly quiet turned into a cheer as many of them volunteered to lead Snarl. Every other goblin followed, they made a large wave of green, popping across the forest’s ground as they moved towards an ancient tree standing in the middle of the other great trees.
‘The Oracle lives in the ancient oak!’ the tiny goblin hopped in front of Snarl. It was so much greater than every other tree, Snarl noticed, but not greater than Nana’s cave.
That cave had MILK.
The goblins suddenly stopped, still a fair distance away from the tree.
Snarl kept walking.
A fat goblin stood in its way, shorter than Snarl, but with a mighty belly and a spherical figure. Snarl understood. This was a Warren Lord, too.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
The large goblin stood before Snarl, not hissing, not taking a battle pose.
‘I was waiting for this day for a long time,’ the fat goblin rumbled. Few more goblins appeared behind it. They were all big. ‘Ever since you killed Gutter.’
Killed? Snarl blinked. Oh, those thudding noises when he had Door protected insulting battles.
‘I did not kill any goblin,’ Snarl tilted its head, making its ears pop as it did. ‘Silent Death did.’
‘You are a traitor,’ The fat goblin finally hissed. ‘You lured them out, servant of Silent Death. Made them victims to the eternal predator of our kin.’
The goblins behind snarl gasped in shock.
‘Snarl is no traitor,’ Snarl hissed back. Finally, some decent trash talk and dramatic interactions from a crowd. A proper goblin fight! ‘My ears were snipped by the evil bird, my body scratched. I survived because I am strong!’
The crowd cheered, as they moved to circle the place, to watch the battle unfold.
‘You are the traitor,’ Snarl pointed at the goblin. ‘You did not care for the other goblins of your warren, they are skinny and small, you, and your minions,’ the goblins behind the fat goblin hissed, annoyed at the implied servitude. ‘Are eating all their food.’
Yes, that made sense to Snarl. Warren Lord should have the bestest food. But the crowd needed to be riled.
The crowd gasped in shock, again, before they booed the larger goblins.
‘I am Glob,’ the fat goblin said, ‘The Oracle warned me of you, the goblin that would come to destroy forest goblins. I took the food to feed my minions, and myself, to prepare to stop you. It was necessary, minion of Silent Death.’
What was this weird goblin talking about, this was not how goblin battles went. It should insult Snarl. Snarl should insult back. They should do it until they both were angry enough to start a furious belly joust.
Wait, did it call Snarl a minion?
‘Snarl is no minion!’ it hissed loudly. ‘Snarl is a Warren Lord. Survivor of Silent Death. And I will defeat you, weak and pathetic Glob.’ Snarl pointed a clawed finger at it.
‘You still think we are going to have a power struggle?’ Glob blinked. ‘Stick. Mud. Pebble. Get rid of him.’
Snarl stared as the three goblins approached from behind Glob. One long armed and slender. One more brown than green, short and stocky. And a muscled looking tiny goblin respectively. Three named goblins.
This was not how goblin fights were done.
The crowd of goblins booed and threw mud into the arena, but a hiss from the three goblins made them stop. They all watched as the group reached the center, ready to fight Snarl.
Snarl held onto the stick and watched with anger as his hopes of a proper battle were dashed once more. There was only one thing that Snarl could do.
‘Skinny like a stick insect with tiny ears!’ Snarl pointed at the first one, the crowd gasped in terror. ‘Brown as the defecations of a wolf, with small feet!’ The second goblin nearly recoiled from the pain of the insult. Snarl turned into the last one and grinned viciously. ‘Thumblina.’
They did not have time to react as Snarl charged belly first into the mentally incapacitated trio. They stood no chance, Snarl was rushing with all the power it had and they were knocked around like a bunch of pins gathered in a convenient place to be knocked down.
The trio watched with horror as Snarl stood above them, victorious. The crowd was just as silent.
‘I am your Warren Lord, now.’