Goblin Squad Member
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Welcome to an installment of:
Zodd groans as he wakes up. Pressing his hand to his head the barbarian tries to will the hangover headache away.
Movement next to him in the bed causes him to crack his eyes open. Upon seeing a buxom lass curled against him, Zodd grins. He didn't remember leaving the tavern last night with her or what her name was, but he supposed he could make up for that. Gently running his hand through her tangled hair the scarred barbarian leans over to wake her with a kiss to her temple.
Some time later Zodd leaves his house wearing only a loin cloth and his sword strapped to his back. He had noticed that his green hat was on the floor of his bedroom, so today must be Wednesday. Which meant that it was another chance to try to get more of his friends in Freevale to embrace the proud Stone Bear Clan tradition of Loin Cloth Wednesdays.
Striding purposefully through the town, his bare feet slapping on cobblestones, Zodd keeps his squinted eyes peeled for signs of life in the light of the rising sun. Almost everyone had participated in the keg race last night and it was possible that no one else was awake yet.
He decides to stop by the tavern first to harass any of his friends that had stayed there the entire night. Of course, it might not hurt to get an ale to chase away his hangover as well.
Outside of the tavern Zodd notices something that causes him to burst into laughter. A keg barrel was turned on it's side and inside was curled the familiar sleeping form of Grickin with a first place ribbon stuck to his cheek. Zodd had no idea how the little fellow managed to win every single keg race they had in Freevale, but he suspected there might be some kind of magic trickery involved.
While puzzling about how he might go about catching the little rascal in the act of using magic, the hairs on the barbarian’s neck stand on end. Instinct has his sword in his hand as Zodd swivels around to face whatever was sneaking up on him. In the shadows of a building he catches the gleam of evil red eyes and the shine of razor sharp teeth.
A little voice squeaks,
Goblins sneak and goblins spy,
Goblins listen for baby’s cry,
More voices, from sources around him that Zodd couldn't see, quietly sing along,
Find the crib and climb beneath,
Draw the blade and lick your teeth.
Zodd wasn't sure which god he had pissed off enough that he had to deal with a Goblin raiding party this early in the day, but he wasn't going to waste any time lamenting his luck. The barbarian takes a deep breath and bellows as loud as he can,
“To arms! Freevale is under attack!”
Not waiting to see if any of his clan mates woke up to help, Zodd lunges forward with his two handed sword swinging down at the grinning goblin he could see in the shadows. The creatures red eyes widened in disbelief as four feet of steel cleaved into it.
The other hidden goblins raise their voices as they start up a new song,
You will scream and you will run
Goblins chase you down for fun
Goblins hide where you can’t spy
Goblins snatch and gouge your eye
Zodd whirls his head from side to side trying to find more of the little monsters. He doesn't notice the goblin that launches itself from a nearby roof until it sinks its rusty dagger into his shoulder with a gleeful cackle.
The barbarian roars in pain and anger. Zodd welcomes the hot fury that rushes through his veins. Any trace of his hangover disappears as the spirit of the bear floods his body with rage. Zodd's vision becomes a haze of red and he loses himself in combat.
The next thing he knows, Zodd sees goblin corpses strewn all over the ground except for one that was still speared on the sword held firmly in his hands. The creature's little green hands were clutching at the blade while it coughed blood. Zodd raises an eyebrow as the goblin manages to cough one more verse,
Stabby day, stabby day
Glad to see you here today
We’re glad you came this way
It’s a stabby day
With a snort of disgust Zodd kicks the goblin off his sword and looks around.
The citizens of Freevale filled the streets, weapons in hand. He noticed with wry humor that most of them had entered the fight straight from sleep and so were only wearing their underwear. Zodd supposed that was about as close as he was going to get to having his fellow towns folk participate in Loin Cloth Wednesday.
Heading back to the tavern for a well deserved drink Zodd is not surprised to see that Grickin is still fast asleep, snoring softly, in the winning keg barrel.