Stories > A Story of a Goblin

by Rami Abdo

The small campfires dotting the landscape that night gave away the true size of the army. The fires flickered in the dark, and it was relatively quiet, at least for an
orc camp. The occasional whispers would sound followed by either a shout or a roar of laughter. Usually the latter. The orcs seemed content with the mission they were
given. Protect the trade route that runs right through the valley of orc pass. It was vital to them as it brings in continuous supplies as well as traveling mercenaries like ogres.
However they were aching for a good brawl and no enemy was to be seen for eons.

An ogre picked up a goblin by the head and held him up high for all to see.

“ Del mi wai oi noot eet yoo, an I lut yoo liv’” the ogre growled at the squealing night goblin. The ogre must have been feeling philosophical
tonight. The night goblin was obviously smarter than this lumbering beast, and he racked his brains to find an answer that would save his puny
hide. “De bos sed dey need mi for da battle. U eit mi and bos bi mad. No mor food fer ya,” the goblin squeaked so rapidly he was forced to repeat it
all twice more.

“I ead u ufter battle den,” the ogre replied stealthily, neglecting the fact that there is no battle. He let the goblin go who immediately hopped
off as fast as his skinny legs can carry him.

The ogre got up clumsily, snatched his considerably large club and kicked at his dozing comrades.

“WE FOIGHT, WE FOIGHT, WE FOIGHT,” he wailed, rousing the other orcs from their slumber. The cursed chant spread like wild fire across the
camp, and soon enough every greenskin and ogre was on his feet chanting the waagghhhh. The fires were kicked to dust, tents and beds were
torn apart from excitement, and fights erupted as to who gets to be on the frontline when they charge the ‘might army’ they were facing. The only
being that had the slightest ounce of organization was the savage orc big boss Elva’knoka, who bothered to send for Tatwok, the savage shaman
a, necessary element to the savage boar boyz next to him. All were frothing at the mouth and hooting war cries.

When his scouts came back, with nothing, he was pissed off. When they told him there was no enemy he flipped. He tore apart the scouts with his
bare hands and then ran all around the camp swearing with rage looking for answers. On reaching the ogres, they pointed at where the goblin
was, the cause of all the mishap. Where the goblin was, there was goblin no more. All that could be seen was a pair of tiny legs scurrying into the
woods that ran parallel to the trade route.

The goblin ran so much he went right outside the orc camp and straight into the woods. By the time he stopped he realized he was all alone
smack in the middle of nowhere. He could still see the dots of campfire in the distance and he could just make out a roar of anger from
somewhere. Laughter followed. Probably the ogres laughing at his coward ness. He plotted his revenge, rubbing his hands together as his evil
mind swirled in ideas and schemes. He looked around him. The woods were dark and silent, unlike the blaring of the camp. A night insect chirped
constantly, breaking the silence. An owl hooted in the distance, forcing the goblin to spin in his tracks and stare blankly at nothing ness. He was
suddenly very scared, and the prospect of going back didn’t sound so bad after all. He hunched slowly forward, hugging himself from the slight
chilly breeze that enveloped him. “oi, oo ar yu?” a thick voice suddenly croaked behind him. The goblins heart jumped out of his body and he
jumped a good three feet into the air. Behind him was the shape of an orc, but not any orc. His body was covered in tattoos and piercings; His skin
was no longer green but a blend of black red and blue. Where there weren’t tattoos there were rags to cover the bare necessities. His face was in
the shadows, but his eyes were glowing green with waagghh energy. The goblin realized that this was the savage shaman Tatwok, who wasn’t
allowed into the camp for reasons unknown. “yoo da grunt dat faik de battle, huh?” Tatwok pointed an accusing finger at him. It was more of a
statement than a question, as if it didn’t matter if it was him or not, he was marked.

The goblin was speechless and he merely lay whimpering on the dirt. Tatwok knelt by him and started speaking. “yoo eard’ da story of da
golin oo croid giant wolv. Dere wos dis goblin oo croid giant wolf wen dere was no giant wolv, an de uder goblins ran to gut der stiks an nets to
grab da wolv, an wen der was noo giant wolv dey wer pised. An den da same goblin croid wolv agin an de goblins ran for der stiks an nets agin an
dey foond no giant wolv an dey wer mor pised. De goblin did dis ‘bout 7 mor times wen da uder goblins realized der wos no giant wolv.” Tatwok
sounded so sincere that the goblin listened intently, and was completely engrossed in the wonderfull story. He asked Tatwok, “an den wo
appened?”

Tatwok continued. “ Wen da goblin croid giant wolv de tenth timeder reely wos a giant wolv, an da uder goblins ran for der stiks an nets
an…” he was interrupted by the goblins excited squeal. “so dey grabbed de giant wolv an hailed da goblin oo croid giant wolv,” the goblin said
glowingly.

“Nay,” Tatwok replied, “ dey ran fer der stiks an nets an grabbed de goblin oo croid giant wolv an dey eit im an frew da bones to da giant
wolv.” Tatwok finished. “An dat iz da story uf da goblin oo croid giant wolv.”

The goblin thought it was the smartest thing he had ever heard. “da moral of da story iz, yoo cun croi wolv den dimes before da uder
greenskins stop bilivin.” The Goblin concluded. “So oi av ten chanses” With that Tatwok shrugged and disappeared into the shadows of the woods
leaving the goblin awestruck.

He got up and started walking again. He reached a denser regioin of the woods and the trees were high and mighty. He stared up at them,
there overhanging branches swaying with the breeze. He felt very very scared this time. He stopped and leaned upon a tree, exhausted from all
this action. After a second the tree was no longer there and the goblin fell on his backside. He looked up. Towering above him was the glaring face
of a ferocious treeman, its eyes staring blankly at the goblin. Its long branches reached out with strong woody limbs to grab the helpless form, but
it touched space. The goblin was long gone, already halfway out the wood towards the orc camp. All the way he ran arrows thudded left and right,
missing him by inches. By the time he reached the camp he was exhausted, but on the way he had time to think. About the goblin who cried giant
wolf and what it all meant. He was destined to warn the orcs of this attack, and they would believe him, because they were plain dum. He ran
straight through the camp screaming of battle and it was time to fight and monstrous treebeasts were coming. He didn’t stop tillhe reached the
boss’s tent. He started screaming to Elva’knoka about treemen and wood elves and so forth. The big boss was staring at him blankly the whole
time. When the goblin paused to catch his breath he finally spoke.

“yoo’r dat goblin oo sed der wos battel wen der wos noo battel. Yoo fink we dat sttopid, we full fer dat trik agin. Git out bifor oi frow yoo to da
ogres.” Before the goblin could reply he was thrown clear a good twenty metres away into a pile of boar dung. Laughter was heard from the bosses
tent along with jokes of doom divers and the such. The goblin lay there assessing the situation. What did this mean. Whats the point of Tatwoks
story if it wasn’t ten chances before they stopped believing him. While he was thinking hard in the pile of boar dung the orc camp was taken
completely by surprise as the wood elves attacked. Orcs didn’t even have time to pick up their weapons before they were run down by chariots,
tearing limbs and breaking bones. A wizard wrecked havoc with spells of destruction, causing orcs to wither and die. Among them Tatwok and
Elva’knoka. The treeman roared above the battlefield, squshing orcs and goblins with swipes of his powerfull limbs. The only grennskins that
retaliated were the goblin fanatics who spun their balls of steel straight into the wardancers, taking most of them out before being taken out by
archers, both wood elf and goblin archers actually. It was all over before it even started, most of the orcs fleeing or slaughtered.

The goblin found himself well and truly alive. He was hiding behind the hills with the surviving remains of the orc army. To his luck it turned
out to be a handful of goblins and many, many ogres. An ogre stepped in front of him. He recognized him as the one who picked him up before.
The ogre spoke. “Oi, eint yoo dat goblin woo said oi cun eet yoo ufter da battel?”

The goblin then realized the moral to Tatwoks story ; No matter how many times you cry giant wolf, you’re skrewed…!