The world of Jericho, a land ravaged by war and strife, turns a little less magical with every second that passes. Great cities and entire civilizations are built on its soil, humans flourish and thrive on the death of magic… while the corpses of goblins, orcs and elves hang from crosses and posts around their cities, a grim warning to any so-called ‘demihuman’ who may wish to approach.
Fairies, beasties and spirits went from being commonplace to now being a rarity across the land. Humanity has won the Great War, and their prize is dominion over life itself.
But deep underground, deeper than the darkest pit… there’s the Undercaves.
And within this pitch black web of interconnected, wriggling caverns… the goblins hide.
Yes, goblins. Creatures abandoned by the gods, untouched by the gift of magic, scrappy little buggers who managed to escape the slaughter of all non-human life by digging deeper than any other, and burying themselves where the Sun has never touched. The uncontested conquerors of the deep, they spread and multiplied in the dark, dividing the caves by their different clans, each led by an Elder or a Matriarch.
Among the many clans, there was the Boiling Mud clan, named after the pools of fertile, bubbling tar that covered most of their territory and were their main export to the rudimentary economy of the goblins. And within that clan, there was a certain woman, a relic of the times before the Great War, who rarely abandoned her hut overseeing the pools.
It was the Hut of Matriarch Grimaline. Or, as her grandchildren used to call her:
“Mama Grimal! Grek is pulling my hair agaiiin!”
“Am not, am not~!”
The troublesome little kits (as goblin children are usually called) came to play in Mama Grimal’s huge hut. The complete lack of light didn’t bother them, they could see clear as day even in the absolute darkness, but what did bother them was the lack of stimulation in the fields. Weeks of seeing the same rocks over and over could easily get tiresome and even bothersome to some children… so they loved visiting Mama Grimal! For her hut was not only spacious, but it was full to the brim with trinkets and treasures.
Mama Grimal herself, a goblin tall enough to reach the hips of any average human, was a wrinkly vision with ashen hair and bright, sharp red eyes. She had managed to keep all of her teeth even at her ninety years of age (a truly ancient age for a goblin), and she constantly showed them in a growling snarl every time her kit got too troublesome. But this was all performative. No matter how much she tried to look aloof, she really did enjoy the company of her grandchildren.
In a way, they reminded her of that first litter of hers, the one she lost so long ago…
“Behave!” She commanded from her huge couch, a rare luxury on the undercaves that she stole from the wide ballroom of a human noble (or at least, that’s what she says). “If ye don’t behave I’ll smack your behinds purple!”
The critters squealed and then giggled, for they all knew this was a game at this point. The woman had little patience, but it would be a cold day in the Hells before she raised a hand against her kit… at least, that’s what they hoped!
With a heavy sigh, the elder goblin closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed against her couch, feeling how the children ran around picking her little figurines, her collection of talismans and tiny knives, the human and orc scalps she had cut back in the day… There was a time where people gathered here just to hear those tales. Grimaline smiled for a moment, remembering how her own litters used to love stories! But these children, the litters of her litters, had no interest in the surface. How could they anyways? They had never even seen the Sun, only heard rumors about it from the few fools who still ventured outside for food and treasure.
All of them had better things to do than listening to an old lady ramble.
Well, all of them but one.
“Nghhh! HMNGH!” A little creature groaned and grumbled loudly, to the laughter of the others.
“Give it up Olk! You can’t even lift a broom and you want to lift the hammer?!” A little girl jeered.
“Can too, can too!” Olk repeated. “Watch! Nrgh!”
The laughter continued. Mama Grimal finally opened her eyes, only to see the children gathered around their favorite piece among the whole collection: her huge, heavy, powerful warhammer. The thing was the size of Grimaline herself, with a handle taller than she was, and the children loved to climb on it, jump around it and even jump from its pole sometimes.
In the center of it all, Little Olk tried to lift the thing with all of his power. To no avail, of course: he was by far the weakest, most squalid of all the goblins in the Boiling Muds. Thin, short, weak and sickly, he was born without the favor of the spirits and (according to the other adults) would probably die soon enough. That is, unless Mama Grimal had something to say in the matter.
“Alright alright that’s enough.” She said, finally getting up from her couch. “Out, all of you! All this noise won’t let me nap!”
“She’s up! Run, run!” A kit screamed with a huge smile, while the others laughed and ran away from the old goblin, happily abandoning Olk to his fate.
The tiny, weak creature continued to groan, still trying to lift the hammer. Grimaline smiled, much to her own disdain, and carefully picked the little kit to pull him away from her weapon.
“That’s enough from you too, Olk.” She said, carefully keeping the critter on her arms. She couldn’t resist the impulse, carefully tickling the kit. “Wiggle wiggle~.”
“Heheheheheh! Nooooo!” The critter chuckled and wriggled slightly, playfully, before sighing and looking back at the hammer. “I really thought I could tonight, Mama Grimal… other kit can lift it at least a bit!”
“Every kit has their own time to do things, Olk. You will get to lift the hammer when you’re older.” Grimal walked with the kit on her arms, sitting back on her couch and setting the little boy on her lap, an honor reserved only to him. “Why did you try so hard, hmm? I’ve told you not to exert yourself this much.”
She looked at the critter with a little smile on her wrinkled face, as her hand softly caressed the boy’s red hair. Yeah… there was a very selfish reason as to why she favored this one so much. The weakness, the positive and inquisitive attitude, those huge and wet yellow eyes – they all reminded her of her first husband, her beloved Krank. Her one true love… she could still remember their adventures together, their run-ins with the law, how they stole together so many of the treasures on the hut.
How his naked, skinned body swung on top of one of those crosses outside the capital…
Grimaline shook her head rapidly, pushing that memory far, far away, and trying to focus back on her grandkit.
“I had a dream that I could! That I lifted the hammer and everyone followed me!” He said with a hopeful smile. “Where did you get this hammer, Mama Grimal? Tell me, tell me!”
“Oh you already know that story, don’t be greedy now.” Grimaline said, playing hard to get.
“Please? Pretty please?” The boy insisted.
“Urgh! Fine… But only because you said please.” The old lady closed her eyes… and remembered.
The skies were bright that day, not a cloud in the skies. Everyone else in the clan was sleeping, but not only was little Grimaline still up and hungry for glory. Oh no, she was also armed that day! As the winds blew heavily, making the branches of the Sacred Woods dance around all over her, Grimal sat on top of her favorite rock and looked at her reflection on the two daggers she stole from her brother, Big Marik.
The things were thin, but shiny! Like two steel stakes! Two huge icepicks!
She was excited to get to a human and make them squeal with them.
You see, humans had been invading the Sacred Woods for a while now, a privilege only reserved to elves and goblins at that time. They came, they killed the trees and stole the berries from other animals, sometimes even killing the ones still protected by the spirits! They showed no respect to anything, and they sucked.
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“They really sucked.” Said Grimal to Olk, taking a moment to interrupt the story for a little moral. “Never be like a human, Olk. Always check on the spirits of the land before taking anything.”
“Are there spirits in the Undercaves, Mama Grimal?” The boy asked with huge, curious eyes.
“Not that we’ve found. If they are here, they are hiding just like us.” Grimal said with a little sigh. “Now… I was sitting on my favorite rock…”
Little Grimaline was having fun, using the reflection of the sunlight on her blades to illuminate the floor around her. She smiled and hopped up and down on the rock, sometimes clashing and grinding the daggers together… before suddenly, she heard someone coming from behind her. Someone huge, heavy, so tall that his shadow completely covered Grimal as he stood in the way of the sun.
The Human Paladin was wearing a thick, shiny golden plate armour and a helmet with the face exposed. Gauntlets, boots, everything was covered in gold and crosses.
“And he said… BLAH BLAH BLAH! I am a big human and I am going to kiiiill youuuu!” The now old Grimal said with her worst impression of a human, cackling and tickling the little boy again.
“Ahhhh!” The kit chuckled again, squirming. “Noooo! What did you do, what did you do!?”
Of course, the human had not said that. It was more along the lines of ‘In the name of the Gods, I smite you, pest!’, but Grimaline had not heard him. Instead she immediately prepared for the fight.
The man was wielding a huge shiny and golden warhammer, swinging it around like it was nothing just to try and scare Grimaline… but she was not scared. Why? Because she was a bit of an idiot back then. The kind of idiot that seems impending doom and runs towards it with all of her might. Little Grimal shrieked a battlecry, jumping from her rock and skillfully (or more miraculously, really) avoiding the human’s swing to land straight on his chest and cling to his armour.
“Stab him, stab him!” Said Olk.
And stab him she did. Several times really, laughing maniacally as she did. But after the first five stabs she realized she was drawing no blood.
“The man, he had a second skin.” Old Grimal explained. “A skin made out of chain and iron!”
No matter how well she aimed to stab on the joints between the armour, nothing happened. And the man laughed, he laughed like a bastard, before taking the girl by the arms and threw her down on the ground as hard as he could. Little Grimaline could feel the bones on her back creak and crack from the impact, a little blood escaped her lips on a cough, while the Paladin stood right in front of her while raising his warhammer.
‘By decree of the Gods, this land is ours!’ The man said with a huge smile… but Grimaline still had one trick on her sleeve. While the man monologued, she threw her daggers straight to his exposed face. One sunk in his cheek, the other in his eye!
“Yay!” Olk celebrated, raising his arms high while Grimal laughed herself into a coughing fit.
“Ahahahaha! Ahhh! And then, and then! The fool dropped his hammer!” She said with a huge smirk. “He dropped it! So I picked it up, and lifted it with all my power!”
Of course, reality wasn’t that heroic. It took Grimaline several attempts to lift the hammer while the man rolled on the floor, writhing in pain. She had struggled just like Olk did in the future, groaning and grumbling… until being able to lift the thing high in the air, and–!
“I SLAMMED HIM RIGHT ON THE HEAD!” Mama Grimal said, lifting her fist.
“YAY!” Olk chuckled.
“And that’s the story. His head exploded. I called the others to hang his body on a tree, just like those bastards do with us… and we sold all that shiny armour! And we ate good that night! The end!” Grimaline sighed with satisfaction, sitting back on the couch while the boy on her lap wriggled and celebrated.
“I love that story!” He said between giggles. “Oh, oh oh! Can I tell you a story too?”
Now that was a bit of a new development. Mama Grimal, who was still cleaning the little tears of laughter from her face, looked at Olk with a smile and nodded softly. She wanted to hear what the boy was thinking, too.
“Yay! Alright, so! I was sleeping?” He started. “And then, I dreamed! And I dreamed that I was walking in a biiiiig place, with lots of sand everywhere! And that shiny thing on the sky was very, very bright!”
“...A desert. You mean a desert.” Grimaline blinked. Now that was strange. How could he dream of places he had never seen?
“That! And then… there was a tree! A big tree, the biggest I’ve ever seen, bigger than the Undercaves!” The boy opened his arms as wide as his little body allowed him. “This big! And it had things on the bark, drawings! And one of the drawings was shining so bright? So I walked to it… and I saw it! And I knew what it meant!”
Grimaline blinked a few times. This sounded terribly familiar but, at the same time, it was so… odd.
“Look at this, look at this!” The boy raised his hand to the ceiling. “It meant ‘GOLTHOI’!”
Grimal opened her eyes widely when, all of a sudden, a burst of sparks flew right out of the boy’s hand and, for a second, illuminated all of the hut. She winced, quickly going to cover the boy’s mouth. She sparks floated slowly around them, illuminating Grimaline’s green skin and Olk’s pale white skin as they descended to the floor and extinguished themselves. Then, she looked at Olk, suddenly serious.
“What did you do?” She asked, frowning.
“I-I said the word, and fire happens…” He said, suddenly sheepish. “Is it… bad?”
Grimaline stared for a long time as her mind raced. Sorcery, that was sorcery, no doubt about it. But goblins are not supposed to do sorcery! They were abandoned by the gods of magic, after all! What did this mean!?
And more importantly, what would the others do if they learned of this!?
The other children would call him a witch, would treat him even worse, maybe even kill him themselves. The adults would try to use him, maybe even get ideas of going back to the surface! She couldn’t allow it, she wouldn’t let any more idiots die outside…
But once sorcery appears, it is impossible to contain. That much she knew…
“...You only do this when you are alone or with me, you hear me?” She tapped the boy’s forehead twice with a finger. She wanted it to stick in his brains. “This is dangerous. You only do it with me, or when no one sees you! Tell me if you understand!”
“I-I do Mama Grimal, I do!” Olk whimpered softly. “I am sorry!”
“...You are fine, kit.” She offered him a calmer, warmer smile, hugging him tight. “You’re good. You’re good… now go home, it’s time to sleep.”
Little Olk complained a little bit, but truth be told? He was tired. So with a nod he carefully jumped off his beloved grandma’s lap, and waddled off and out of the hut while the woman sighed deeply, rubbing her balding head. What a time, what a night… whatever was she supposed to do now anyways?
Feeling tired, she walked over to her hammer and picked it up, lifting its head with ease and swinging it around a few times, remembering her past glory. Yes, Goblin warriors and heroes were rare, but they did exist. Grimaline the Voracious, legendary highwaywoman and robber… to think that she had once assailed the humans with such a passion, only to now live in fear of going outside…
“Oh Krank… what does this even mean?”
The man was the wiser of the two, she would have trusted his ideas in this situation. But the man was also dead, and had been for sixty years now.
With the deepest sigh she could muster, she walked with the hammer in her hands and sat back on the couch, hugging the thing’s head while preparing herself to rest. This would be a matter to consult with the spirits of dreamland.
She closed her eyes… and dreamed.
Dreamed of salty air, of blowing winds and crashing waves. Of foggy landscapes, of gray skies and warm light… the sea, it beckoned her. Grimal, somehow aware that this was indeed a dream, felt strange. She had never, in her over ninety years of life, dreamed of the sea. She dreamed of things she knew, like forests and mountains; she dreamed of people she had met in the past, or animals strutting about. She had never seen the sea in her life, only able to recognize it because of the tales she had heard in the past.
She tried to look at herself. She was floating right above the raging seas, naked and young again. With hugely opened eyes she checked herself out, sliding her hands over her smooth sides with a mix of vanity and surprise. After all, she had been considered a beauty back in her youth! This dream was great so far!
But then, someone had to ruin it. She heard a chorus of voices, male and female, suddenly calling her by name.
“Grimaline… look upon us.”
Suddenly distracted and embarrassed, Mama Grimal covered herself while looking up, seeing a light coming from the distance, burning a bright gold. The light parted the seas and the fog, and slowly began to shift its form: from a golden orb, to something bigger and more regal. Non-goblin. Tall, powerful, with a long neck… a golden dragon.
Grimal was not stupid. She knew that dragons were always, always trouble, so she immediately tried to turn right around and run away; only to find that her legs just kicked in the air without really moving her. The dragon cleared its throat.
“Grimaline, please. This is important.”
“Leave me alone!” The goblin cried, not even looking at the beast. “Go away!”
“We are trying to deliver a message onto you.”
“Deliver your message to someone else! I am sleeping!” Finally, she looked at the dragon with a frown. “For that matter, why am I here? Why am I naked and young again!? And who in the hells are you!?”
“Our name is Anansi. We are a covenant, a promise, an oath. And a healthy soul is always in the shape of its prime...”
“Alright then, and why am I here, huh!? What can be so important that you must disturb my sleep, huh!?” Grimal knew that bowing down or showing weakness to a dragon would always end up in trouble. “Say your piece and go away!”
The golden light suddenly warped, turning purple and blue in intense, pulsing spirals, as the beast shifted its form into the shape of a massive, hairy spider.
“LISTEN HERE.” The sudden shift made Grimal freeze in place. “WE’RE HERE TO SHOW YOU THE WAY TO SALVATION SO YOU BETTER STOP YOUR WHINING AND LISTEN.”
There was a sudden, uncomfortable silence. Grimal was not stupid, she was not going to try her luck against a dragon, not even a spider, shapeshifting, dragon thing. The light recovered its draconic, regal form and cleared its throat again.
“As we said before… we are here to deliver a message, hope for you and all of your people, Grimaline.” Even if she didn’t answer with words, Grimal still looked at the apparition with big and skeptical eyes. “We have finally found a place where you can thrive, away from the claws of humanity and right under the Sun, forever.”
The old goblin blinked a few times, and legitimately considered that possibility. A return to life under the sun? And more importantly, safe from humans!? The idea was beautiful enough to make the old goblin smile again, but then she shook it off. No. This is way too good to be real.
“...This is definitely a dream.” She said, shaking her head softly.
“It is not.” The light reassured. “The way will be long, and full of trials… but you must endure it. You must come to us. To Mu.”
“Mu?”
“The continent beyond humankind’s imagination. You must reach it.”
“Alright.” The goblin frowned. She was not exactly cultured, but she knew there was no land going by that name, at least there wasn’t when she lived on the surface. “And how do we reach that land?”
“Through Sea. Reach any sea from any corner of Jericho, and sail. Sail until the land is no longer visible. Then, I will take you to Mu.”
“Uh huh.” Grimal couldn’t show herself more skeptical even if she tried. “And if we don’t?”
“Then you will die.”
Well, she could appreciate Anansi’s bluntness.
“... We shall see. That’s all I can promise.” The goblin shrugged softly, before suddenly feeling a pull on her hair. Something was pulling her into the skies. “A-Ah!?”
“Our time is done. Do your best. Reach Mu. We will protect you once you do.” The light said, before it was soon just a twinkle in the distance.
Everything grew distant and cold. Grimaline shivered and once again covered herself, trembling and closing her eyes. The feeling of speed, of being higher and higher, was so intense that she simply couldn’t help it. She screamed.
And that’s when she woke up, standing on the couch and sweating like a pig. With a deep sigh, and an even deeper breath, the old goblin stood up and walked out of her hut, trying to think about whatever she could do about this dream. Had it really been a vision? A message by a rogue dragon? Or maybe just a hallucination? She had been thinking a lot about magic lately!
But as soon as she walked out, she realized she wasn’t the only one with this issue: in the darkness, more and more people from her clan were walking out of their own dens, looking at each other with concern…
Grimal sighed. This was going to be a headache.