The ragged band of Goblins had surrounded Tom and I. They had made short work of the lizards using a crude spears and then they had turned their attention to us. It looked like we were going to end up dead by Goblin, rather than dead by stampeding lizard. The Goblins were about waist-high. With pale green skin and large, pointed ears. “eXCusE mE” the Goblins parted a little bit to let the speaker through. He was also a goblin, but skinner than the others and with a misshaped head, “eXcUse Me” he said again, “buT wHAt arE You? AnD whErE haVe You CoMe fRom?” [he sounded like a boy whose voice had just started to break and is having difficulty with his pitch] What did he mean ‘what are you?’ was he actually asking another question, and had just gotten the wrong word? Feeling foolish I said “Human… I suppose. And we come from a little town in Alba.” The Goblin tilted his overlarge head to one side, as if he was as confused by this answer. “WHerE iS tHiS, ALba?” “Well… you know… up, on the surface.” I pointed up as if talking to a child. The effect that this badly constructed sentence had on the goblins was quite amazing. A ripple of chatter seemed to run through them, and an argument started up out of nowhere. Meanwhile the ‘spokes’ Goblin’s eyes seemed to light up. “I sAy wE Kill theM nOw.” One of the Goblins in the crowd said. The ‘spokes’ Goblin turned and glared at him, “NO, wE Must takE THem baCk to SEe tHE OLd One!” The goblin that was in favour of killing us muscled his way forward, “You cAn’T serIOuslY beliEvE Him!” He gave me a scornful nod, “EvEryone knOWs tHat THe surfAcE doEsn’t actUAlly ExIst. It iS a thiNG oUt oF oLd TalEs, aNd cHildreNs storEys. A placE wiTh nO wALls, wHat keEps The rOof uP?!” The spokes Goblin glared at him. He glared with such intensely that he took a step back, “True oR nOt TRue tHe Old ONe wiLl wanT to spEak tO tHem. We tAke tHEm baCk!”

Tom had finally woken up. I was glad because he was heavy, and I was tired of carrying him. In fact a part of me was regretting saving him at all. If I had just left his unconscious body for the lizards, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess now! Tom, strolling along next to me he seemed completely unaware of the danger we were in. I, on the other hand was painfully aware that we could be walking to our termination. This could all go so wrong, so quickly. Killed by goblins in some deep forgotten hole. That seemed like an all to likely end. But even then, I saw it, like the half-imagined light in the darkness; an idea. A crazy idea, a complete long shot. But still worth a chance. I opened my menu: ‘you have 4 skill points remaining’ I spent 2 skill points to level up my imitate skill to level 2, and hoped that it would be enough. “Where is Scar?” I whispered to Tom. Tom seemed to do a thousand-mile stare into the landscape around us before answering “To our right and slightly behind us. Why?” I ignored the question “Can you bring him to the bridge of that hill,” I pointed with my chin in front and to our right, “I want to try something but I need line of sight.” “Ok. Are you going to tell me, or is it a surprise?” Tom grinned. I tried to match his confident tone, “I think I will keep it a surprise for now!” “Ok suit yourself.” We had nearly walked right past Scar before I spotted him, sitting as still as the rocks around him. I mentally attached my spell to Scar and then focused on the image I wanted; one of the lizards. I pictured it in as much detail as I could recall and then finished casting the spell. I let us walk a little further before whispering to Tom “All set! If you can get Scar to attack one of the Goblins we might be able to get away in the confusion.” Tom looked a bit doubtful, but went along with it anyway. And it actually worked! Sort of. One of the Goblins behind us raised the alarm and, in the brief confusion that followed we bolted. I went racing out to the right with Tom close behind me. The sounds of chaos from the goblins was music to my ears. We were free! For about 5 minutes. It turns out, 20 goblins who know the terrain are more than a match for 2 humans who don’t! The spokes Goblin was wanting for us as we were brought back by a little knot of goblins. He was holding his long nose in his thin, bony fingers. Rather like a human holding his chin in deep thought. “DId You kNow somEtHing wAs goinG to HapPEn, oR arE yOu just vEry faSt tHinkers?” this question caught me by surprise. The goblin started to smile “iT WouLd sEem You arE noT Fast tHinkErs. So How dId You kNow wHAt waS gOing to Happen?” “Well-” Tom began, but I cut him off, [worried he would get us into even more trouble] “He is a creature tamer.” I said, “and he had just managed to get one of those lizards before you arrived.” Tom took this news in stride better than I could have hoped for. The spokes Goblin hummed to himself, clearly thinking over this new information, and then seeming to come back to the present he said, “It iS noT fAr to tHe caMp, wE muSt Hurry; tHe Old One Will wAnt to spEak to You.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The goblin camp sat next to a small water fall, the light from the distant dungeon was shining off the water almost like moon light. The camp itself was made up of small circular tents, some of them seemed to be built on wagons, [there were wheels sticking out the sides] I couldn’t tell what they were made of, perhaps leather and bone? Or maybe wood and cloth of some type? None of them was taller than me. It didn’t look like there were enough of them for all the goblins, I guess if you live underground there isn’t as much need for shelter. We came to a stop in front of a tent, no larger than the others, but slightly more ornate. The spokes Goblin stepped forward and called to it’s occupant. Then, slowly, he emerged from the recesses of the tent into the half light of the cavern, leaning heavily on a stub of a stick. The top of his head was bald and wrinkled, but he had little wispy tuffets of white hair that his ears still poked through. And when he spoke, it was in a voice as wrinkly and old as his skin. “WhaT Are theSeS ThinGs that You hAve brouGhT herE?” he gesturing at us, “THey sAy tHey Are sUrface dWellers!” The spokes Goblin said “ThAt One” he pointed at Tom “Claims to bE aBle to contrOl a lizArd.” The old Goblin gave a Humm-Ing sound, then lowered himself onto the rock next to his tent flap, “The Ancient onEs talkEd abouT A ‘SurfAce’ bUt nO onE Has come doWn froM iT iN a lOnG, LonG timE.” He seemed to muse on this for what felt like ‘a long, long time’ before saying; “We trUly livE in a mOst disturBing timE. fIrSt tHe groUnd trembleS and Azure goEs Out. And noW thesE Strange new ThingS appEar.” He shook his head “vEry strangE.” “Azure?” Tom said, as if he was testing the word. The old Goblin tilted his head, and gazed up at him with alarmingly bright eyes, “yEs, iT is What we calL thaT dungeOn.” he pointed back the way we had come “buT theN, 15 Cycles agO, the groUnd shakeS,” he flapped his hand to add emphases, “The Ancient onEs Say; ‘wheN thE grounD Shakes; a corE diES’ Normally iT happenS beloW” he pointed down past his feet “We feEl it yeS. We fEel it, buT it doEsn’t rEach us. SomEtimes a fisSUre openS And, for a tImE strangE thingS come Out and Walk abouT, poWerful, tHings, buT tHe great cOres alwAys cloEe Up thE crAcks and we carrY oN. But 15 cycles agO the groUnd shOok and Azure wEnt out. Now thE balance iS brokEn.” There was another long pause. And then the old Goblin struggled to his feet “I hAve madE a dEcision” he said, leaning on his staff “We will lEt thesE thingS From the ‘surFace’ staY. In these unCertain timEs, whO knows What Might liE arouNd thE next bEnd. We mAy need All the fighterS we cAn geT, sO I welcomE thesE to oUr Camp.”

Epilogue

I was sitting watching the waterfall. The light from the other dungeon was getting stronger, the old goblin said that without Azure to stop it, it would continue expanding. But it was expanding slowly, like a huge mountain looming far off in my mind. It was a problem but it seemed so far away at the moment that it hardly registered. What worried me now was a far more basic principle: any relationship founded with lies at its base is doomed to fall apart at some point, and our relationship with the goblins was founded on not much more than deceit. I had asked Tom if he could tame a newly hatched lizard, he had said ‘yes, however’ as soon as it reached the same level as himself it would ‘go feral’ and he would lose control over it, as any creature\monster that was doing the fighting would level up about ten times faster than him. This was not going to be a long-term solution. So, I sat, and watched the waterfall, trying to come up with a plan. Trying to chart a course through this strange situation. Maybe inspiration was just around the corner, maybe another unexpected event would present itself. Maybe one day I would see the surface again, maybe Tom would too, then again maybe inspiration isn’t just around the corner and it all ends here, outside a Goblin camp, by a waterfall.