When I opened my eyes I could see only gauzy red. My head felt as though it had been staved in two, the pain was so great. As I shook off the blurry haze and surveyed the scene before me a squat voice declared "prisste, use powers to giblini." The wavering, cloudy figure before me glared directly into my face. I began to make out the pock marked face and his bulging blood-shot eyes, smell the pungent breath. I had been tied securely to a stalagmite and my wrists and feet were bound as well. I was able to see a number of other goblins watching our interaction. A campfire burned in their midst and I could discern a small figure cowering underneath rotten deerskin.
It occurred to me, despite my rough treatment, that the wretched denizens wished for me to heal their companion's wounds! After a moment's pause I nodded, "Yes, yes of course," as it seemed an ideal opportunity to make my getaway. "I will need my gear - including my cudgel," I said. "It is my holy symbol and I'll need it to help your friend," hoping that the half-ruse would be enough to fool the little cretin. Pugnut (as I internally began to call him ) appeared to be going through pains to wrinkle his pimply forehead as the act of thinking brought great consternation to his puny mind. After a full minute of this he shouted something to his companions and they lowered their cow-pokers in my direction. A smaller sort of fellow approached and began to loosen my bindings. Pugnut watched anxiously as I stretched and rubbed my wrists. The little one brought me my gear and cudgel while some of the motley band prodded me toward the huddled figure.
As I approached the rasping form I began preparing the compounds to make my cudgel something more dangerous than just a humble club. My plans were to bash in the heads of these unbelievers, these adherents of chaos, these ravaging brigands! these... And then I saw it; a tail, wagging, from underneath the dirty skins. The figure looked up at me with the eyes of something akin to pure innocence. "Must heeeel!" Said Pugnut. I was torn between breaking and running or kneeling to give comfort to the fallen creature. In short order my mind was made up by a strange sight: a cloven hoof. A portion of the skins had fallen away to reveal what was unmistakably the be-furred leg of a goat.
I turned on Pugnut and shouted with the power of the Cudgel - "Die!" I leaped over the now limp form of the goblin chief, getting nicked by one of the pot-stickers along the way. I rushed in the direction of what I hoped was the opening of the cave with as much speed as St. Cuthbert could bestow upon a humble servant. My feet were luckily unhindered by the rocks and hidden obstacles which frequent such lairs. I could see the light of grey morning and the autumnal leaves of bronzewoods draped over the cave's toothy maw. My longer legs were outrunning the short strides of the humanoids, but I could hear them just within earshot. As I rushed out of the unholy grotto I could feel the whiff of a spear just over my left ear. The bandits were following with gusto.
The chase continued for a good deal of time. I ran like my brothers taught me in the streets of the Old Town. I thought of those days. "Grab the uskfruit and run zigzaggy-like," Fanny said. "Take the side streets," he said in my mindseye, as I jumped into a small gully. I could see that the forest was beginning to thin as I approached an embankment. The fiends were following closely. I gave it all I had and scrambled over the embankment with a last gasp. I came tumbling down the other side and into the presence of what might well have been more trouble.
It occurred to me, despite my rough treatment, that the wretched denizens wished for me to heal their companion's wounds! After a moment's pause I nodded, "Yes, yes of course," as it seemed an ideal opportunity to make my getaway. "I will need my gear - including my cudgel," I said. "It is my holy symbol and I'll need it to help your friend," hoping that the half-ruse would be enough to fool the little cretin. Pugnut (as I internally began to call him ) appeared to be going through pains to wrinkle his pimply forehead as the act of thinking brought great consternation to his puny mind. After a full minute of this he shouted something to his companions and they lowered their cow-pokers in my direction. A smaller sort of fellow approached and began to loosen my bindings. Pugnut watched anxiously as I stretched and rubbed my wrists. The little one brought me my gear and cudgel while some of the motley band prodded me toward the huddled figure.
As I approached the rasping form I began preparing the compounds to make my cudgel something more dangerous than just a humble club. My plans were to bash in the heads of these unbelievers, these adherents of chaos, these ravaging brigands! these... And then I saw it; a tail, wagging, from underneath the dirty skins. The figure looked up at me with the eyes of something akin to pure innocence. "Must heeeel!" Said Pugnut. I was torn between breaking and running or kneeling to give comfort to the fallen creature. In short order my mind was made up by a strange sight: a cloven hoof. A portion of the skins had fallen away to reveal what was unmistakably the be-furred leg of a goat.
I turned on Pugnut and shouted with the power of the Cudgel - "Die!" I leaped over the now limp form of the goblin chief, getting nicked by one of the pot-stickers along the way. I rushed in the direction of what I hoped was the opening of the cave with as much speed as St. Cuthbert could bestow upon a humble servant. My feet were luckily unhindered by the rocks and hidden obstacles which frequent such lairs. I could see the light of grey morning and the autumnal leaves of bronzewoods draped over the cave's toothy maw. My longer legs were outrunning the short strides of the humanoids, but I could hear them just within earshot. As I rushed out of the unholy grotto I could feel the whiff of a spear just over my left ear. The bandits were following with gusto.The chase continued for a good deal of time. I ran like my brothers taught me in the streets of the Old Town. I thought of those days. "Grab the uskfruit and run zigzaggy-like," Fanny said. "Take the side streets," he said in my mindseye, as I jumped into a small gully. I could see that the forest was beginning to thin as I approached an embankment. The fiends were following closely. I gave it all I had and scrambled over the embankment with a last gasp. I came tumbling down the other side and into the presence of what might well have been more trouble.
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