Six-year-old DJ sat at the edge of the bed with his feet dangling over the side. His legs were still too short to reach the floor. In his hands, he turned a plush toy dog around, feeling its button eyes and puffy body. Downstairs, the ruckus of screaming, excited children finally died down. And with it, the muffled sound of Sir Dashing’s footsteps grew louder as he ascended the stairs and approached DJ’s door.
DJ sniffed and wiped his nose. Sir Dashing knocked gently and entered.
“Ho there, son,” he said softly. “I sent the other children away. Are you well?”
DJ shrugged. Sir Dashing came over and sat next to him. The mattress sagged with his grown-up weight.
“Were the other children being unkind to you again?” Sir Dashing said. “That Riley girl seemed nice. You two seemed to hit it off!”
“I guess,” DJ mumbled.
Sir Dashing’s face became grim. “It’s your mother, isn’t it?”
DJ nodded, his throat tightened, and his bottom lip trembled. Sir Dashing hoisted DJ onto his lap and cradled him, holding DJ’s head beneath his chin. DJ sunk into it. Sir Dashing rocked back and forth while DJ’s sniffles grew.
“I’m sorry, my son,” Sir Dashing said. “I’m sure you’re disappointed.”
“She never comes,” DJ’s voice shook. “Why? You told her, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Sir Dashing stroked DJ’s black hair. “Your mother is… very busy. The situation is hard to explain. You’ll understand more when you’re older.”
DJ didn’t reply. He was afraid that if he spoke, his voice would shake harder and the tears would come. And no one wants to cry on their birthday.
“I know I’m not your mother,” Sir Dashing said, “But I promise that I’ll never leave you behind. You have my word as a Knight and your father.”
DJ swallowed and sniffled.
*
When DJ awoke, diffused light seeped through the floral curtains covering the window. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted to his nose. He could hear his friends eating and chatting outside the guest room. DJ realized he was the last one to wake. He groggily sat up and shook the sleep from his eyes.
A scowl pressed his face. That dream again—that memory of his sixth birthday party. It made his hands flex and his stomach burn, but he pushed the thought away. He was nothing to his mother, so he would make sure she was nothing to him, too.
He stowed away his bedroll and left the guest room. In the common space, Pebble, Brooks, and the others sat in a circle eating toast and jam made from a fresh loaf Brooks had baked. The smell made DJ’s empty stomach grumble.
Pebble spoke with his mouth full, spraying crumbs everywhere. “Are you ready to claim our bounty, small knight?”
DJ tried not to frown at ‘small knight,’ but to Pebble, everyone was probably small. He just nodded.
Riley handed him a large slice of bread with jam already on it—she wanted to make sure he wasn’t left out. DJ was silently grateful, especially after the dream (memory) he just had. Everyone gave their empty dishes to Brooks, who took them on the counter. Then Brooks filled a sack with treats and handed it to Pebble. The gift came with an admonition: “Like I said, Duane, not a scratch! Be back before dark. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Pebble mumbled as he took it.
Brooks hugged him around the thigh and Pebble patted his head.
The team filed out the door. Laradyl was still waking in the blue morning light. A chill nipped at DJ’s arms and made goosebumps sprout. He finished his bread and jam and licked his fingers. Very few people were out as they crossed the sleepy streets of Laradyl—it was mostly lumber workers starting their shifts at the nearby mills.
They left town through the northern gate, passing some droopy-eyed guards. After less than an hour, though, Pebble veered off the road and took them northward into the forest. DJ and Steve stayed close to Francis. Riley, however, was more than happy to walk shoulder to shoulder with the half-giant. As she did, Pebble unraveled stories from his past exploits.
“Five thousand gold!” Pebble exclaimed. “Five thousand!”
Riley laughed. “That’s how much they paid you for it?”
“Mmhm,” Pebble grinned. “That clan caused much trouble in Sunsbirth. When I brought the leader’s head on a plate, the governor was happy to pay. You should have seen the his assistant! He fainted like a frightened goat!” Pebble roared with laughter.
Steve gulped and DJ patted his back. But Riley laughed and and shook her head. “So you traveled across Uh hunting bounties for years?”
Pebble put his hands on his head casually. “That’s sellsword life.”
“Any ranger skills?”
“Yes. Why?”
Riley lifted her chin proudly. “I’m going to become a ranger. When we take the jewels back and I get my share, I’m buying a bow my proper size.”
Pebble dropped his hands. “Buy? Why buy?” He looked around. “Do you have a cord? Small rope?”
“Actually, yeah. Right here in my pack.”
“Good.” His eyes darted around the forest until he found a strong sapling. He pointed. “Hickory.”
He put his hand to Riley’s chin, measuring the height, then he revealed a large knife and cut the sapling down. As they walked, he carved the sapling like a human would a large stick. Before long, the sapling was in the crude shape of a bow. Pebble bent it with his leg, told Riley how to lash the cord at both ends, and when she did, she had a fully functioning, human-sized hunting bow.
“There,” Pebble said. “Spend money on arrows.”
Riley gave the makeshift bow a couple of dry pulls before hanging it on her shoulder. Then she threw her arms around Pebble’s waist. The half-giant gave a bashful smile—it was hard to tell if he was blushing under his red skin. Then he slowed to a stop and pointed with a serious look.
It was the goblin’s cave. It yawned up from the ground in a great mass of gray rock. Spikes stuck around the perimeter to ward off potential intruders… but you could still walk around them. The cave’s mouth had been completely boarded into a solid wall with a single goblin-sized door. On its exterior, the door was marked with torches and armed guards on either side.
The goblin guards saw the party approaching and stood at attention, weapons in hand. They wore no armor—just some pelts covering their privates. They visibly trembled when they saw Pebble and Francis.
The half-giant turned to his companions. “Remember, riddles first, battle later. Clever Riley, you take the lead. If danger comes…” he motioned to the hammer resting on his shoulder.
DJ’s heart thumped and he flexed his fingers. He reviewed spells in his head, just in case. They approached the cave, and the two goblins pointed with their spears.
“This is the cave of the Mean Green Fiends!” the left one said with a raspy gurgle. “What business have you here?”
Riley put her hands on her hips. “The jewels you stole from the Rhinestone Palace in Laradyl.”
The right goblin cackled with a voice just as raspy as the first. “Hehe! What about them?”
“We’re here to take them back.”
“Fat chance!” Left said. He pointed his spear again.
Riley smirked. “How about for… a riddle?”
The goblins brightened up like they were children offered ice cream. They turned to one another, nodding profusely.
“Riddles, yes! Riddles, yes!” Right cleared his throat.
“Riddles?” Francis frowned. “As in plural?”
“Of course!” Left said. “You think we’d give all those jewels for just one riddle?” He straightened his back and un-pointed his spear. “You must pass three riddles. Follow the signs to the goblin king’s citadel. You’ll get the riddles along the way. We wish you luck, but you’ll be no match for our goblin wit!” It cackled.
The goblins opened the door and ushered the party through. Everyone ducked in, but Pebble had to crawl on his belly to get inside. The cave proved to be much roomier than the outside let on. The cave sloped down with enough headroom for everyone to walk comfortably, even Pebble. The path was marked with flickering torches and goblins going about their dailies. They all stared with wide eyes as five outsiders marched through.
Sure enough, wooden signs marked Citadel (spelled incorrectly) pointed deeper into the cave. And the cave had little to no charm. Decorations—a term generously used in this case—consisted of poorly cleaned animal parts like bones, skulls, and furs. Goblin-sized bedrolls were laid out in the open, with a couple of campfires cooking stew in cauldrons. Whatever was cooking smelled like dried fish and wet dog. DJ pinched his nose to keep himself from coughing.
They found the first door. At the door, four goblins stared with large eyes and trembling knees as the five Big People approached.
Riley puffed out her chest. “We’re here for the jewels. Give us a riddle.”
The goblins became visibly excited. They huddled and chattered among themselves, then shoved one goblin to the front. The unwilling volunteer cleared his throat and tried to sound tough. “And, ahem, will you give us if you fail?”
Riley frowned. “What do you want?”
The goblins huddled again, whispered, then pointed at Pebble’s swishy hat. The half-giant growled. Frightened, the group huddled a third time, and adjusted their offer. “You leave!” one of them said.
“Fine,” Riley said. “Let’s hear that riddle.”
The first goblin smiled and rubbed his hands together. “What… has four legs and barks?”
The party was silent. After a brief pause, Riley said, “A dog?”
The goblin’s smile dropped. “You’ve already heard that one?”
DJ pressed his lips together, but his laugh came out like a snort. Steve loudly observed how easy that was. The three goblins were so busy bopping the first goblin’s head with their little fists that they didn’t mind the party opening the door to the next room.
In the second room, conditions were better than the first. There were crude, mismatched beds pushed against walls with some bedrolls still strewn around the floor. The goblins here seemed stronger and taller than most of the goblins in the first room.
It’s got to be a class thing, DJ thought. The peasants are the first to go if there’s danger.
They found the second door, guarded by another gaggle of goblins. The goblins asked for collateral, and again accepted the Big People’s departure if they lost. One goblin stepped to the front, grinning with horrible teeth.
The goblin asked, “What has four walls, a roof, a kitchen, living area, and potentially a half-bath conveniently placed for hosting guests?”
“A house?” Riley said.
The goblins pouted, pulling their ears and stamping their feet. When they got their composure, they glared with pint-sized fury in Riley’s direction.
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“Blasted human! Listen close,” one said. “The goblin king awaits you behind these doors. And he’ll give you the last riddle! Don’t expect this one to be so easy, no sir-ree! It’ll be a real zinger for sure!”
They pushed the door open and the party squeezed through. Inside was a room uncharacteristically ornate compared to the rest of the cave. All around the walls were fine paintings, sculptures, and even a gold toilet seat. Although it was the same size as the other rooms, it was only inhabited by a single goblin, sitting in a throne wearing purple robes and a big, pointy hat. He had a scepter in one hand, and in the other hand, a tiny brass bell.
By the goblin king’s feet, a wooden chest was filled with jewels. Pebble’s eyes flashed.
“Welcome, adventurers!” the goblin king’s voice crackled. “I see you were clever enough to outwit my subjects.”
It didn’t take much, DJ thought.
“I’m ready for your final riddle, goblin king,” Riley said confidently. “When I solve it, we’ll take back those jewels you stole.”
“If you solve it,” the goblin king sneered wickedly. “You have not asked me what I require if you fail!”
“You want us to leave? Like all your subjects did?”
“No! I want you!” The goblin king pointed with his scepter. “Each and every one of you. You see, if you guess incorrectly, I’ll ring this bell”—he held it up—“and my citadel will fill with our finest goblin warriors. They will kill you, gut you, and put your innards in a stew.” He licked his lips. “We haven’t tasted half-giant or orc in some time.”
DJ shuddered. That horrible smell they experienced in the cave’s first room—was that a stew made from…? He had heard of goblins eating people before, but he always assumed it was a joke. His blood turned cold and he reviewed spells in his head again, praying he wouldn’t have to use them.
Riley swallowed, hiding her fear. “Fine then. Give us your riddle.”
The goblin king grinned horribly. He said, “Three monkeys sit on a branch. Two face forward, one faces back. There are three hours before sunset, and the monkeys still haven’t eaten supper. Twelve branches are between them and the forest floor. Will they have time to eat before nightfall?”
The party fell deathly still. DJ’s heart thumped in his throat. Riley twisted her face. Everyone watched her with clammy, twitching hands, ready to shoot for their weapons. Riley asked for the goblin king to repeat the riddle. He did. That led to more silence and more thought.
Riley opened and closed her mouth twice. But finally, she said, “That riddle has no solution. It’s just double talk. You’re making it up so you can keep the jewels and eat us.”
The goblin king squinted and clutched the bell tighter. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes,” Riley said. “And no matter what I say, you’re going to ring that bell.”
The goblin king sneered, then lifted the bell.
Like a dart, Pebble snatched his hunting knife and hurled it across the room. The steel gleamed in the firelight as it found its mark between the goblin king’s eyes. It cleaved his skull in half. A sopping crack bounced off the walls, and the goblin king’s arms flopped to his sides. The bell landed silently in his lap.
Steve let out a startled yelp, but Francis clapped his hand over his mouth to silence him. DJ’s face turned white and Riley stared at the slain goblin king. But, as casually as a spring morning, Pebble stepped forward and tore the knife from the goblin king’s face. Then he cleaned the blade with the goblin king’s robe.
Riley found her voice. “Hundred Hells, Pebble! We said no violence!”
“Did you want to turn into a stew?” Pebble said. “You know he was mischief.”
DJ didn’t take his eyes off the goblin king’s severed face. He took deep breaths, swallowing the bile that crept up his throat. He said, “I think Pebble’s right.”
Francis’s voice was stern. “But now they’ll know we killed their king.”
Pebble wasn’t listening. He carved off one of the goblin king’s ears and added it to his necklace. Then he sifted through the chest of jewels before extracting one glimmering, dangling item. “Ah, here it is. Thank the Moon.”
He held up the pendant so it could catch the firelight. DJ frowned when he got a better look at it. The pendant was the most crudely-designed thing he had ever seen—it was like a child made it. The ruby in the middle was off center and the necklace was soldered unevenly so the pendant hung crooked.
Riley scrunched her nose at it. “You’re proposing with that?”
Pebble scowled defensively. “It’s dwarven custom to propose with jewelry you crafted. Do I look dwarvish to you? I have big fingers!”
“We’ll have time to discuss this later,” Francis urged. “Right now, we need a plan.”
While they had been standing around, DJ had been assembling a plan in his head. It wasn’t great, but it was something. He raised his hand. “Hey, um, what if Pebble took the goblin king and put him in his bed over there? Covered him up like he was sleeping. Then we could tell the goblins that we won the jewels fair and square, and the king decided to take a nap. With any luck, we’ll be gone before they notice he’s dead.”
Everyone stared for a moment. Then Francis said, “Sir DJ, I’m sorry, but that’s not a terribly good plan.”
DJ blushed and he threw his hands up. “Well, does anyone else have any bright ideas? I think no matter what we do, there’s no way we can leave here without looking a little suspicious. All thanks to loverboy over here.”
“I won’t apologize,” Pebble folded his arms. “I saved our lives. Plain and simple.”
“Plain and simple,” Riley mocked.
“Later!” Francis hissed. “We need to move now. Fine. We’ll try DJ’s plan. Everybody remain calm and do what he said. Steven, give us a prayer for success—silently. With a bit of luck, we’ll survive to see Laradyl.”
While Steve prayed, Pebble tossed the goblin king onto his bed and threw a blanket over him. Then the half-giant picked up the jewels. Everyone took steadying breaths before putting on relaxed expressoins and emerging from the king’s citadel.
The upper-class goblins all blinked with surprise as they watched the party march out with the chest. One of the goblins said, “You… won back the jewels?”
“Yep!” DJ said a little too quickly. “Sure did! Easy riddle. Don’t bother the king, though. He’s sleepy.”
The goblins traded confused glances and scratched their heads. The party increased their pace as they made for the second door.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you all!” DJ called. “Have a great day! I like your cave!”
“Don’t oversell it,” Francis whispered.
One goblin peered into the king’s citadel just as the party entered the first room. They slammed the door behind them and power-walked to the main entrance. Every pair of goblin eyes watched them as the jewels jingled in Pebble’s arms.
The party had just reached the main entrance when they heard the shouts from deep in the cave.
“The king is dead! The king is dead!”
Pebble hoisted his hammer. “Time to go!”
Crash! Pebble smashed a hole in the wall so large that the party poured through without ducking down. They flew past the guards, ran around the spiky perimeter, and sprinted into the forest. Their legs pumped and breaths came in great gulps. Steve had to hike up his robes like a dress to keep pace.
DJ stole a glance over his shoulder. A flood of goblins poured out of the cave, chattering and wild, hungry for revenge. And despite their small legs, they were fast. They gained on the escaping party with every second.
“Why didn’t you tell us goblins could run so fast?” DJ hollered at Pebble.
“Less talking, more escaping!” Riley shouted.
It was no use. The party was losing steam, and the goblins were advancing. From dozens of yards back, their voices became clearer.
“Stop them! After them!”
Pebble bore his teeth. “Enough of this!” He planted his feet and slid to a halt, brandishing his hammer and huffing like a boar. “Get behind me!”
The party slid and stopped, arming themselves. Riley nocked a gnome-sized arrow in a human-sized bow. DJ steadied himself and held up his hands, ready to cast Flamefist. Steve did the same, swinging his frying pan like a sword. And Francis gripped his ax with both hands.
The goblins circled them, forming a tight ring. But they didn’t converge. They kept a wide birth, surrounding the party, jumping up and down, whooping, throwing their hands in the air.
They weren’t angry. They were celebrating.
Francis was the first to relax. “What the…? None of them are armed.”
He was right. Not a single goblin carried a spear, bow, or blade. One by one, the party relaxed. A lone goblin stepped out from the crowd. The goblin dropped to his knees, prostrated himself and bowed as if greeting royalty. DJ and his friends traded puzzled glances.
“Thank you, kind travelers!” the goblin said. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! We can never repay your kindness!”
The party traded looks, dumbfounded. Pebble said, “But we—I killed your king.”
The goblins cheered at the mention of it. The leading goblin raised his hands and the crowd fell silent.
“Indeed, you did!” he said. “King Grignak, in all of his cruelty, malice, and barbarism… is no more!”
More cheers filled the forest. DJ couldn’t clear the confusion from his face.
“He said he was going to kill you and put you in a stew, didn’t he?” the goblin said. “Blech! We don’t even like eating people! It’s disgusting!”
“And all of the pillaging and plundering he made us do!” another goblin spoke up. “We didn’t want to! It perpetuates hurtful stereotypes!”
“So, hold on,” DJ waved his hand. “You’re glad we killed your king? And you’re fine with us taking the jewels back?”
All the goblins gave their affirmative.
“If he was so terrible,” Pebble frowned, “why did you not end him yourselves?”
Some goblins turned bashful. “We… were working on that. But you took care of it, and that’s even better!” They gave each other thumbs up and high fives.
“So… are we free to go?” Francis asked.
The leading goblin nodded. “With our deepest gratitude! This new freedom will allow our clan to pick a new leader—one that’s democratically elected! After all, a leader should be established by the consent of the governed, not by the forceful hand of authoritarianism!”
Francis tightened his lower lip and nodded. “Well spoken.”
“Goddess be praised!” Steve cheered.
The goblins echoed his celebration. The leading goblin continued. “What are your names, heroes? Sir DJ, Riley, Francis, Steve, and Pebble, you will forever be known as true friends of the Mean Green Fiends.”
“No!” another goblin piped up. “The Nice Green Friends!”
Applause of agreement from the goblins.
“Take care, heroes!” the lead goblin said. “We’re off to write our constitution! May peace guide your path!”
And just as loudly as they arrived, they trampled back to their cave. The forest grew quiet, and party was left standing in a circle, guarding a chest full of jewels, mouths agape. Not sure what else to do, they shared an awkward laugh and continued southward to Laradyl.
They arrived before nightfall. The jewels were returned to an exhilarated Barbas, who happily paid them the thousand gold. Pebble tucked the pendant away in his pack, and from that point, he walked stiffly and spoke very little.
Riley touched his arm. “Hey. Feeling nervous?”
“What? Me?” Pebble jerked. “No! No. I’ve wrestled bears. Slain trolls. A proposal is nothing.” But even as he said the proposal, he lurched as if a weight dropped in his stomach.
Riley rubbed his arm. “Brooks is gonna love it.”
By the time they made it back to the apartment, Brooks was making dinner. The smell of more fresh bread filled the home. Before they could even dive in, Brooks dragged his stool over to Pebble, hopped on, then patted down his partner, searching any area he could reach.
“Hey!” the half-giant protested. “What are—stop—excuse you!”
Brooks turned to Steve. “Did you have to heal him? Did he get hurt? As a Steward of the Goddess, I know you can’t lie.”
Steve grinned and shook his head. “Pebble never once was harmed!”
“Good,” Brooks said. Then he pointed. “What’s in the pack? There’s more than just two hundred gold in there.”
DJ furrowed his brows in surprise. He can tell that?
Pebble stiffened and stammered. “Uh—it’s nothing. Let’s talk later.”
Brooks put his fists on his short hips. “Show me, Duane.”
“I—”
“Now.”
Swallowing, Pebble reached into the pack and pulled out the pendant. It was astonishingly plain compared to everything else in the room.
“A pendant?” Brooks crinkled his nose. “It looks like you made it yoursel—” And as soon as he said the words, he knew. The dwarf’s eyes grew to saucers and his hands covered his face.
Pebble grimaced and eyed his guests. “I… wanted to do this another time.” He got down on both knees and held the pendant in his great red hands. He cleared his throat, but his voice was so tiny it was nearly silent. “Brooks, will you marry me?”
The dwarf nodded stiffly, fighting back tears. Brooks took the pendant, hung it around his neck, then threw his arms around his partner. They held each other for a long while.
“I’m sorry it’s not pretty,” Pebble mumbled.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Brooks blubbered.
Riley squealed with delight and clapped her hands. Steve praised the Goddess. DJ grinned. Francis didn’t say anything, and that’s when DJ turned to get a look at him.
The orc wore a smile, but the rest of his body spoke of something much deeper—a profound sadness. Mist gathered in his amber eyes and his shoulders slumped as if pressed by a long-felt weight. DJ opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Maybe Francis would discuss it when he was ready.