Chapter 3 – A Band of Five

Kristala of the goblins had climbed the ladder of aristocracy with great difficulty. Goblins were not known for their great intelligence, which was a plus point in her favor, but they were known for their brute strength strategies. The only way to solve a dispute was to fight, to open a locked box was to bang at it until it opened and to gain a home was to steal from another.

She knew that none of the other species paid much heed to the goblins. It was only when they’d grown into too large of a force that anyone would take notice. That was the kind of attention she’d rather avoid.

So, one can imagine her surprise when a mud-splattered, purple-robed human mage entered her domain demanding to see her at once. She’d hurried to obey lest the mage take it into his mind to violently teach her subjects the etiquette of addressing a mage, that is to bow down as low as possible and to keep quiet.

He’d come with an impossibly foolish demand. It was almost as if Kristala was watching a child demand more candy, or in the goblin’s case, a child demanding more nuts.

“Get it done, or else,” he’d threatened.

Now, Kristala hadn’t been made chieftess for nothing. She’d bowed and prostrated all the while praising his great powers, but she’d pushed for something in return.

Her perseverance finally paid off when the irritated mage snapped, “What is it you want then?”

She’d humbly bowed her head, making sure not to look into his eyes. It was important to establish who was the boss.

“Just an everlasting spring Your Magicness. Such a feat should be well within your abilities.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m weak? I can make tens of springs if I wanted to!” the mage roared. “Do you take me for a weakling?”

“N-no, sir. May your magic never dry up. I was only saying that it should be easy for you to help us out just this one bit.”

The purple mage had hummed and huffed and puffed about as if he were making a great decision. In truth, such a spring would take a bit of effort, but it was badly needed in the Goblin Plains. They hadn’t had rain in the last three years and everything had dried up. Kristala’s popularity would soar if she could secure a source of water, and everlasting at that.

“Very well. Let me speak with the one who has given me the assignment,” he replied at last.

A purple circle blinked into existence only to show a horror from the worst of a goblin’s nightmares. A sea green dragon, looking quite annoyed, spoke harshly to the mage. They went back and forth before the mage told the dragon of the deal he’d struck.

A sound so strange emitted from the dragon that Kristala initially thought the dragon was dying. It was only after a few moments that she realized the dragon was laughing. Not just laughing, but cackling in the strangest manner.

“Very well Alamastir,” the dragon managed after composing herself. “I will help you make their everlasting spring when all is done. Send your goblins to my mountain. I’ll give them their first assignment.

The purple disc disappeared all of the sudden. She looked warily at the mage. He stroked his stubble-ridden face before he shrugged in defeat.

“At least it won’t be me wasting my time. I’ve wasted enough just finding someone to do it for me,” he said to no one in particular. He then turned to the goblin chieftess. “Well, you heard her. Send your best goblins to Crasse’s mountain. And make sure they get the job done, or else,” he said as he casually spun about. With that, he began the trek back to his domain.

Kristala gulped. Maybe she’d made a mistake? Would the mage really follow through on his threats?

She scratched her ears as she fumbled for a plan. Best to involve all three clans. They’d send their very best. Failure was not an option. Success would only propel her to the top of the all-time list of goblin chiefs. Her authority would never be challenged again if she could make this work out.

She barked out orders to her subordinates. It was time to find the best goblins to get the job done.

***

One-patch was neither a short goblin nor a tall goblin. Not a fat or skinny one either. He was just plain. His hair had begun to go white, a testament to his ability to survive. The only visible injury he had was the lack of a right eye which he covered with an eye patch. That had been the result of a humiliating defeat at the hand of a rival.

His brother, Two-patch, shuffled along beside him. Poor Two-patch had never been able to see, being born blind. He covered his empty sockets with a double eye patch.

Not being able to see had never stopped Two-patch, or as he was commonly called, Two, from sensing the world. His other senses were so honed that it had always seemed as if he could actually see. He was a bit on the eccentric side though.

“Took you Elplings long enough,” quipped a yellow goblin sitting atop a road sign. She flipped a knife casually in her hand, sometimes catching the blade and sometimes the handle. An ostentatious triangle earring hung from her right ear practically pulling her earlobe away from the rest of her ear.

“When you’re done camouflaging with the sun I’ll teach you some manners,” Two-patch shot back.

The yellow goblin hopped down from the sign, raising a cloud of dust. “Say what?” she questioned threateningly. “You say something about my color? What’s a blind Elpling got to do with color?”

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One-patch threw out his arm, staying his brother. Goblins could get into such petty fights.

He held out a hand in friendship. “The name’s One-patch. They call me Onch for short. Your name?”

Their unfriendly colleague spat in the dust rather than take his hand. “Blip. What kinda name’s Onch?”

Onch ignored her question and pointed to his brother. “This one here’s name is Two-patch, also known as Two. As you’ve guessed we’re from the Elp clan. I assume you’ve been sent by Triab clan for this assignment?” he politely inquired.

It was obvious enough that she was from Triab. Elplings were green, Triabians yellow and Qwizontites red. Any goblin knew that, but he thought being polite might be the right way to start.

Blip nodded her head though still bristling for a confrontation. “Me and that one there,” she said as she jerked her head towards a medium-sized tree at the edge of the road.

Onch looked at the tree and saw nothing. Could it be some sort of a joke?

But it wasn’t. The leaves rustled and a yellow face poked out from between the thick foliage. Loose leaves scattered about as a hook-nosed goblin assessed him with sharp blue eyes. The other goblin’s head tilted as if confused, then returned back into the safety of the trees.

“Don’t mind him. Creeps me out too,” Blip commented from behind Onch. “I don’t know him personally, but he has a reputation in the clan. Name’s Statter.”

Onch shuddered just slightly. That was one to watch out for. It wouldn’t do to leave himself exposed around him.

Two tugged at Onch’s sleeve, pulling him away from the tree. Onch turned to face Two who held up two fingers.

“Yeah, I know. I know you’ve got my back.”

Two would watch out for him, but that still didn’t make him relax. Onch returned his attention to Blip who was busy practicing her knife-throwing skills on the signpost.

“So, the two of you were sent for the assignment as well. I suppose we’ll have to get along until we’re done.”

Blip paused mid-throw to pull a face at Onch. She then hurled her knife with speed. The knife missed the post completely and tumbled off into the grass beyond the dirt path they stood on.

Blip placed two hands on her hip and regarded Onch. “Now look at what you’ve made me do.” She started off after the knife. “Watch yourself Elpling. We’re only here for work. After that, we ain’t friends.”

Onch nodded sagely. Elp and Triab had a history of going to war one after another. There was always something to fight over. Food, water, spoils, homes, fighting over a slight to a clan chief or anything that could possibly be conceived.

“Let’s get a move on,” Two rasped in his deep voice that sounded like a knife being sharpened. “The less time we spend with these idiots, the better,” he whispered.

Onch certainly agreed. Much was riding on the group’s shoulders. Everlasting water would end much disagreement between the clans. Also, Kristala, the grand chieftess, had taken great care as to inform them regarding the potential outcomes should they fail. A mage attacking the goblin nation was not something anyone wanted.

Blip had retrieved her knife and was moving on of her own accord. No doubt Statter was following in the shadows somewhere. The Triabians had the same idea; move on and get this over with.

Their mission was at first funny, then ludicrous and then a bit scary. When Kristala had first told them that they’d been chosen to fulfill the wishes of ten grandmothers, Onch had been unable to hold his laughter. Two had reacted even worse. He’d simply growled at the goblin chieftess in protest leading to both of their detentions for two days. Goblin prisons were not pretty.

It was when they were told that they were working for a mage that the whole thing became a bit ridiculous. A mage could easily do anything a goblin could do. It seemed like such a simple task.

Then came the shock that a dragon was involved. And even worse, the repercussions of their failure. That had scared Onch.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Onch started down the road. Two was already shambling along with his particular gait. It would be at least a week before they made it to the dragon’s mountain.

Each goblin silently traveled, each in his or her own thoughts. Of Statter, there was no sign, but that hardly meant he wasn’t around. It wasn’t until late in the morning that Onch caught up to a lounging Blip.

“Tired already?” he teased.

Blip opened a beady eye. “No point in tiring oneself out.”

“I guess you’re right. Two and I need some shuteye as well. We’ll resume after nightfall. Feel free to leave whenever you want.”

With that, Onch left the path for the shade of a copse of trees. Daytime was for rest. Night was when the goblins were in their element.

Two sat watch a short distance away. They’d take turns resting. It wouldn’t do to be caught unawares.

***

Night and day alternated until finally, they reached the foot of the dragon’s mountain. It had been an uneventful journey. Very little in the way of sights to see, and even less of living creatures. The closer they got to the mountain, the less animals there were.

It was there that they met the last member of their party. A red, tall and muscular Qwizontite stood leaning on a massive glaive that made Onch feel like his own saber, hanging at his left hip, was just a toothpick. Complex tattoos covered every inch of his veiny arms. He stood a whole head and a half taller than any of the other four goblins. A long braid hung over his uncovered torso.

There were some among the goblins who believed the Qwizontites weren’t really goblins. They had to be some freak combination of afreets and another species, with a small sprinkle of goblin in them. They just looked too different.

Seeing his final companion made Onch incline towards this theory. What he saw in front of him couldn’t possibly be a goblin.

In any case, no one was paying him to study the anatomical differences of goblins. He’d be rewarded richly for helping grandmas if it could be believed.

The red abomination of a goblin handed Onch an envelope and began to stride up the mountain. His long legs allowed him to pull away swiftly, leaving the other four flailing about to catch up.

Onch stuffed the envelope without looking at it into the inner pocket of his prized button-down jacked. It had supposedly been a pirate captain’s once. Now though, it was serving the goblin just fine.

His saber bounced against his left thigh as he raced up the towards the summit. Instinctive competition began between the five as each tried their best to make it up first.

Of course, the Qwizontite was most suited to win a race requiring physicality. He made it up with enough time to spare that he sat down and began to eat a light meal.

Statter was also seated precariously on a boulder eyeing the last few hundred meters to the dragon’s abode. He was followed by Blip who huffed and puffed her way past Onch just five meters ahead. Two was the last to make it up, moving at a normal pace. He’d given up a little past halfway.

“We’re to stop here?” Onch asked after catching his breath.

The red goblin continued munching on his food, but he did nod in the affirmative. Onch sighed in relief and slumped down across the path from the others. The past few years had seen a steady decline in his physical prowess.

Suddenly, a green portal appeared on the path, large enough for two elephants to pass through side-by-side. A voice rang out across the rocks.

“So, he really did send goblins. How amusing.” The voice stopped to chuckle eerily. “Come along then my pets. Do as you're bidden. Your first assignment is through this portal. Do make it a good show.”

The voice cut out as suddenly as it came. Each goblin looked at the other, then distrustfully at the portal.

“I suppose there’s no rest for the wicked,” said Onch as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Let’s see what the dragon has in store for us.”

Saying that, he passed through the portal, not waiting for anyone else. He could feel rather than see Two join him.

It was time to help some grannies.