Goblin Warmonger

Originally written on August 23, 2024


Impressionistic fantasy depiction of a narrow, mist-filled ravine between towering, crumbling stone structures resembling ancient fortifications or city ruins. The ground is uneven, strewn with rocks, rubble, and patches of frost. Heavy, cold mist swirls thickly, obscuring the view into the distance and clinging to the dark, rough-textured stone walls. The lighting is dim and atmospheric, suggesting deep twilight or an overcast, stormy sky, casting long, faint shadows. Focus on detailed textures of weathered stone, cracked masonry, and the dense, chilling fog.

His axe, a fitting weapon for a goblin, took up itself and brought its hilt up at the hand of its owner. The owner, a powerful, well-clothed creature, a goblin, made its way, thundering down the roads with hard steel grasped with its hands, under which it lowered a small torch that it may light up the path leading below in front of him. He was in a hurry after a long fight, as he was in a wartorn city that was currently being attacked. If he shared any physical appearance with the human woman, the goblins would attack him in a rush, as their adrenaline had blinded them almost to their fellows, with some goblins taking the brunt of magical spells that their fellows had cast. It was  hard-fought battle and hard hands were required of the goblin, so he came with callused ones, and with a weapon clean enough for him to carry with a lethal suggestion.

Moving slightly to the left, he recognized immediately a smooth blend between the rocks and caught the first sight of a handle, grabbing it and pulling it down, causing the walls to shake. He swiftly entered through the opening crack in the wall, as he was pulled as well by the wind violently thrashing inside.

As soon as he was met at the bottom, he found himself again in company of threes, because he was part of a goblin army that assigned him and his comrades in threes. If he departed from this formation, it would be because he delivered a human, and behind him, there was. The woman mentioned earlier was quiet, because she was sure she followed the right one. But now, she was less sure, maybe a little concerned as well, that there was hundreds of goblins underneath the city, in a little space of which she had no recollection even if she had lived here since birth. But questions were out of the room right now, and all she felt was a mild numbness in her mouth from all the running and the thirst. Oh, the thirst! It was mild. But too mild! It was mildest way to experience life! If she had but a drink that could soothe the sorrows of her tongue, she might relive her best memories again in the form of a cascading flood of euphoria. But she was, alas, unhelped, until now, when the goblin whom she followed gave her a drink. 

She grabbed it, as if she was a sheep being asked a question about the gods and about philosophy and humans. But alas, she was a human, and she knew well the gesture of the smile. Oh, the witty smile, to which all bowed, to which all gave notice, to which all might find themselves again! In the end, she caved into the feeling of freshness that awaited her lips, like lemons squeezing its finest flavor and vines transforming into liquid juices for her bosom to be made aware. She exploded with a richness in her throat at the point of contact, fleshy experiences that enriched the surface of her insides, like marching ants, blended into her being. While she might have only finished a drink on the outside, she experienced the greatness of the Lords in her simple action. That the very night would be so cold only to softened out by the cold, fresh water!

Harsh, wet flavors dispersed and made her appetite more complete. "Is there..." her voice emerged, like a writer of mountains moving in circles only to be greeted by a mountain taller than they had ever expected. It was this mix of knowledge and being completely ignorant yet so euphorically delighted that summed up her emotional condition. If she allowed it, she might be given heaven right now, but her stomach was a patient struggler, tentative toward the nature of violence and the parable about giving and taking. If she had no gift, would she be removed or, worse, killed?

She was awaiting a call, and she stumbled upon no transgressions, only delivering her finest elegances at her beck, at her call. She was cognizant of the danger of non-acceptance in terms of bearing and posture, and that was she made it a foundation of her movements to sway in the balance of the entirety, such that if she stumbled, she did only upon a moment, whereupon she slid back into her routine, her stumbling only a moment of excitement to her otherwise boring familiarness and calm.

The goblin handed her a drink again, expecting her to drink it, but she shook her head, unaware that he was ignorant about her struggle for food. But she communicated about it, after which she was given the freshest food he could find. He found a beast lying inside of a wall, and he saw a mark that revealed that it belonged to someone. He closed his eyes pregnantly, like men-beasts (humanoid beasts) did once they saw their fellow lower-beasts (such as dogs) be treated harshly. In the end, he returned with an agreeable smile, after he had started the process for the foregoing beast's cooking.

He cited quickly the smell of a cooked meal to deliver afterwards the necessary greeting to the woman. The woman was pleased, and her behavior was like his own sister who shook hands and joked around with him a lot. The dissimilarity here was that the woman was a human and distant at that. If they greeted on intimate terms, it would be through intimate combat, with hands, swords, and other forms of weaponry, like a warm embrace, striking each other's bodies. But the content was special, and if any cared about specialness, it was him, who had been here all his life and had little relevance to the entire discussion of interest. If a woman brought interest, he would be interesting as well, and he would find charm in his own activites and his life.

But today, it was a little strange. The smell of a cooked meal was accompanied by the smell of death. It was only now that he could smell it, and he assumed that the contradistinction between a positive experience, that being the smell of the cooked meal, and a negative experience, that being the fighting going outside with its accompanying bodies and visceral sensations, made it resurface. It had been weeks since the fight began within this area, but it had been years since the broader fighting emerged, though he was never informed as to what event caused it all to erupt. Many suggestions were given, but none were confirmed internationally.

The woman disrupted his thoughts, when she brought the smell accompanying a happy smile, the sweat that dripped down his cheeks, when he refocused into the moment and saw that his body existed in this plane. The social aspects of a happy smile made the moment more visceral that the sensations of his actual body came into light.

It was getting harder for him to numb the smell of death, as the approachable woman became more receptive in a friendly way. So his actions spoke of thunder and lighting in the form of speed, in the physical form of a walk outside into the surface from the underground chamber in which they were situated safely in relation to the overall battle in the area.

He made existent his weapon and brought it forth to the moment, aligning his bodily sensations with his aim: he wanted to break open the monolith that was the wall blocking their path. It was a metaphorical wall, because it was being created by their lack of information, that they could rely most successfully on stalling and waiting for further attempts at breaching the point of contact, wherein a long-range magic spell shot down any interlopers. It was not the weapon itself, but they believed that they hid more than that. The goblin believed that this war was being fought not with weapons, but with the details and information behind the military characteristics of the battle. If they had little to say about anything surely, then that message would be weakly received by those reigning over the individual groups. And his current boss was a leader of six groups of threes, which totalled at eighteen. It was small, but it was because the war was complicated. And unique situations were being expected every time, because magic was the foundation. And magic could get very complex.

Anyway, he came to the surface to see whether he could do anything, but he was also here upon the orders of his superior. If he dared go against it, he would die, and his transporation of the woman was a part of a ledger-like list of actions ordered to be done by his superior.

Eventually, he came down, marching down the steps like a giant man in large trousers that swayed heavily from side to side with no indication of its sudden break in rhythm, because of the uneven nature of the height and portions of the staircase.

Upon returning to the place where the hundreds of goblins and the woman was, he transferred key info to his superior, who said that all they had to do was wait. This info was only about one true-or-false thing: were the enemies at the border at a particular spot or not? Enemies did not come in all directions all at once, but they did not come to one particular point of contact. So he was being tasked alongside other groups to check again and again, and they were not the only group of groups that monitored the area.

In the end, this was a battle fought bloodily, but for most of it, it was fought on waiting and doing routine tasks until a sudden procession of information on either side or both sides simultaneously.

Several days later, the woman returned him to the moment, asking, "Hello, is this tubig?"

The goblin stared for a while before asking, "Who?"

"Tubig. I was wondering if this was tubig." She was holding up a cup of water in one hand and pointing at it with the index finger of her other hand. She looked funny, like a playful little boy.

The goblin nodded with a hesitant side gaze.

The woman was one of the things that kept him float, because in this time, it was like being awake for days straight. No, it was actually that itself. 

"What?" the woman said, catching his gaze.

The goblin was the one being asked.

The woman said the same thing again.

"Why are you saying what?" said the goblin. 

The woman did not smile, nor did she laugh. "What?" This time, it was obvious, like a sharp dagger a few centimeters from the eyes. She was in horror.

But he did not know why, until he looked around.

A human was staring at them, with glowing hands.

The woman and the goblin and their stares were quickly removed from life.

The End.