There are usually tales of grand adventures that have brought the reader to get to know the mightiest or most foul of beings to exist within the story. Tales of heroic conquest of a farm boy turned greatest warrior of the realm. Or the story of a rebellious sheltered princess looking to seek adventure thinking she didn't care about what happened to herself . Only to later realize that she could make difference with her later ascending to a throne. Of course these tales have already been told time and time again. But there are some stories that have not been told that do impact the fate of the world. Like the smallest of humanoids reaching a mountain to destroy a relic of great evil. This is one of those stories. This is a tale of the smallest, most uncared for creature becoming the hero and saving the realm. In the most miserable way possible in one misadventure after the next. This is the tell of a lowly goblin named Gar.
Our story begins in Azeria, a world of magic and wonders. Filled with magical creatures and many different possible races from humans to tieflings. Elves to dwarves. This story however, like many others before it. Focuses on the most cannon fodder of races. The tale begins in the largest mountains of Azeria called Shara's Spine on the continent of Shara. Along the southern edge of the continent lay the Spines. At the very top of the range was so high in the sky lay snow from the coldness of the climb.
On the day of the Azerian New Year. Miles from the town below is celebrating it in full swing. And still in the setting up stages of festive activities. Where travelers and adventurers of all races gathered to celebrate. Some were in the midst of a story of old. Telling a tale of an old castle that lay within the spines. But that tale is for another time. This tale however will whisk away to south of the village in full swing to the Spines itself.
Along the Spine were small caves scattered from high to low. That was everyday in the full swing of such a normal and much more lackluster sort of day. In the lowest of caves lived a lonely small green skinned goblin.This green little being will soon know what lies ahead for him in the world around him. Learning that he will be a part of the stone structure holding the balance of the world's fate.
This lonely little goblin lay in his heap of feathers sleeping soundly. Till a stray drop of this morning's dew dropped from the low hanging stalactite and landed on the small sleeping creature's light green face. His little snort of his disrupted sleep filled the small silent damp cave.
The creature turns with a displeased groan and starts to bury his head in the mound of bird feathers. The sunlight of dawn started to seep in from the entrance of his cave and shine right into the mound of feathers. All was quiet for just a moment. Other than a few drops of water from the dew. Hitting the small poorly carved wooden bowl placed on a stone that was half filled with water. Making that small dripping noise. Drip.. drip.. drip..
As if an explosive was set off. In an instant the feathers flew into the air wildly like an angry volcano erupting its fire. The creature within the raining feathers began to frantically start gathering his belongings. Tripping over all of this and that. And before exiting his cave he grabs a raw rabbit's leg from the large rock that looks to be used like a table of sorts next to the ever filling water bowl. Feathers still slowly falling within the cave still like a gentle snow.
"Gar late! Late, late, late, LATE!!" His little goblin voice screeched across the morning air. With nimble and very well practiced quick steps he hopped from log to log of the swamp towards the small path up the mountain. He wore just a loincloth that was barely able to hide his weird dangly bits. His cave was at the bottom of the mountain within the murky swamp where he liked it. And other intruders surrounding in the jungle wilds hated to traverse the thick bog. With fear of slipping in and being swallowed up whole by it. And once that happened well the unknown creatures take their pick of what meals they wish at that point. Which would not be a good way to go.
Breathing heavily with small squeaky like grunts, he ran up the path, about ten minutes or so he came upon the first set of caves. He was mindlessly in a hurry and others were starting to get their own work done as he climbed the path up the mountain. An elderly red female goblin growls as Gar stumbles into her lightly while trying to make his way around a malignity of red skinned goblins. Whom were in mid carry of a bunch of small animals ready to skin from the early morning hunter goblins who now were enjoying some well earned rest within their own caves.
"Gar, sorry!" He yelled behind him in an apologetic squeal as he continued on his way up the mountain. Rarely did a goblin care to apologize. But the one who calls himself Gar seems to think it was a good thing to do so every now and then. His breath picked up quickly once again as he frantically continued to run towards where he was heading.
He kept his pace till he came to a poorly made wooden sign with no words but a small painting of a cliff side and a figure that would represent a fellow goblin running off the cliff. Meaning the sign was to warn others to watch the sharp corner. Some would but the life expectancy of goblins was always a chaotic question to ask. He slowed to almost a snail pace and turned the corner safely, then broke back into a full sprint towards his destination. Cave holes and other goblins starred as he flew past in his run.
Gar soon arrived at the mouth of a much larger cave. This cave belonged to the goblin king of Shara's Spine. As soon as he stepped in he heard a large booming voice that filled the tunnel and everything else around the cliffside. Many goblin heads turned to the direction of the cave. As if to possibly bear witness to the flogging of a fellow goblin of theirs. The rumble of voice escaping the large cave hole was enough to make the ground shake and rocks to free fall from the sides.
"GAR! Me's smells you!" The voice sent shivers down Gars tiny green spine. Making him wince and wish he could just turn back now and return to the safety of his feathered bed. And sleep away the day with ignorant blissful sleep. Leave to possibly deal with the punishment at a later time. Rather than deal with it now. But he only knew it might just be worse that way. His long ears dropped in defeat as he entered the cave nervously.
The tunnel leading to the Goblin King's large chamber made Gar feel really small and it put a lot more fear into the small goblin. The king of the goblins was always the biggest and most gruesome Goblin of the lot of them. And the one atop Shara's Spine was definitely the largest and most fearsome goblin of them all.
Gar reached the large chamber where the smell of rotting animal parts and blood filled the air. To the Goblins this smell was as if the smell of the world's most beautifully smelling flower had brushed the nose hairs of others. Which in a goblins case an actual flower would reek horrendously. Which was not good for the goblins to stomach. It smelled worse than an orcs armpit. It was so pungent that he could almost taste the smell on his tongue. That part tasted bad however.
Ahead of Gar sat an unbelievably fat red skinned goblin with a crown of bones just barely stable atop his swollen head. Around his neck was a rope that held various jewels, bone, coins, and other baubles of a shiny nature. Gar stepped closer even more with his small green feet with a small whine as he looked up to the King of the goblins. He gulped and with a small voice slowly spoke the words in the broken goblin tongue.
"Gar… Come…like you..asked, oh big one."
With a deep grumble and a wheeze from this extremely large creature. The horrendous looking King of the Goblins stared at him with a small bit of drool sliding down his mouth and chin. It looked horrid and thick like a grimey white and mucus like color to it. Gar felt a sick nervous feeling settle in his stomach... he knew he was in trouble.