《Tribal-The Tale of a Green Adventure》


 Small Goblin in a big mans world

    I wake up with a searing pain in my head, the light coming in through the window shining much too brightly to not be offensive to my eyes in the delicate state I¡¯m in


    ¡°ugh, note to self, never try to out drink a human again¡±


    What can I say? Its a goblins pride how much he can drink!


    But four and a half feet of Goblin and more malt than I can remember don¡¯t blend well.


    More importantly where in the hells am I?


    It looks like a human house given I can only barely reach the floor from the top of the bed with my feet, at least I can see my boots in the corner of the small room and I seem to have fallen asleep in my clothes, if you can call them those.


    See, we goblins live in tribes on the fringes of civilisation, either trading or raiding to get by and while my tribe is one of the former the old traditionalists in it refuse to but anything more than food and resources from the humans, and so my clothing amounts to a crude and colourless kilt over loincloth and some furs our ¡®Tailor¡¯ has stitched together.


    Personally I¡¯ve always wanted some human clothes, they look so comfortable and unlike fur probably don¡¯t pick up smells like sailors pick up lovers¡¯ pox, but I may as well kiss my inheritance good-bye if any of those old goats saw me in human clothing.


    These musings take me to the edge of the room to my boots, thank Gortan my people are actually quite adept at making shoes, our cobbler trained under a human one and so actually knows what he¡¯s doing, and even taught a few others so that when the old duffer keels over the clan wont lose the trade.


    As I slowly slip on my shoes a voice blares throughout the house ¡°TEVCLAN MY FRIEND ARE YOU UP YET¡± Goodman Taverd- the local forester¡¯s- voice ringing through my ears and I struggle to keep whatever is left in my stomach, my ears ringing like the human noon bell, sending a piercing pain through my skull with every syllable


    ¡°Goodman Taverd please be quieter, my head feels like there are oxen running around in it¡±


    ¡°NONSENSE THIS IS A PERFECTLY GOOD MORNING WITH PLENTY OF WORK TO DO, COME, YOU CAN GET SOME PORRIDGE DOWN YOUR THROAT AND THEN HELP ME WORK LIKE YOU PROMISED LAST NIGHT¡±


    Ugh, I cannot remember for the life of me what I promised to do but I know I¡¯m definitely not going to enjoy whatever it is. I stand up having put my shoes on then walk through to the man¡¯s living/dining room/kitchen seeing the six foot tall Goodman with his shaggy black beard, broad shoulders and big chest-the man is pretty much the opposite of a goblin-


    ¡°Good morning Goodman¡± I said hoarsely, ¡°Ho friend you sound rough, here take some porridge it will do you the world of good¡± he says as he proffers a wooden bowl filled with sweet smelling oats porridge,


    I take it over to the small table that¡¯s in the corner of the room, put my porridge up there and then began the perilous ascent of the ridiculously tall rickety wooden stool, this takes me around a minute with some tense moments on the swaying stool, but I managed to steady myself and sit at the table and slowly started spooning the porridge into my mouth with my headache abiding to a degree.


    ¡°So anyway¡± Taverd started ¡°I reckon you can go out and get me some kindling from the under-brush, I can never get to there properly and the local lordling keeps getting on my arse about how ¡®It looks so incredibly untidy¡¯ its a forest what does he expect, I swear ever since he visited that elven forest city to the north the little prick has been filled with ¡®useful¡¯ advice that¡¯s annoyed just about everyone in the village¡±


    I don¡¯t really have anything bad to say about the local lord and his son, I mean they don¡¯t go goblin hunting like some lords do so I¡¯ve no problem with them. As we finish our porridge and make our way outside Taverd goes to chop some firewood as I head into the forest.


    I.


    Hate.


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    I think furiously as I walk from the trail to the main road covered in cuts and nettle rashes.


    The part of the forest that prick wanted me to clear was filled with thorned branches and stinging plants of all different shapes and sizes, it took me three hours to clear and with the hangover making those three hours feel like ten.


    I suppose that¡¯s my fault for drinking, but he brought the malt out! at least he gave me five copper coins for the trouble.


    That somewhat pacified me.


    Somewhat.


    That brings my total wealth to one hundred and ten coppers, just over a silver, I¡¯ve been saving for a while and finally have enough for the long knife I need to join the chief¡¯s war-band.


    although its more like a mercenary group at this point, with different human lords using us to keep other, more belligerent local tribes in line and using us as scouts on campaigns, what can I say?


    Green skin blends perfectly with the long green grass that blankets this counties hills and fields.


    And despite not raiding to get by my tribe of about three hundred grown adults and roughly 400 children still is the biggest in the area.


    You may be wondering why our clan isn''t bigger if there are that many children usually about, and that¡¯s because most of those little scamps when they grow up leave for lands with more goblins in them.


    And yes I realise the irony of having an emigration problem due to a lack of people


    I am the son of the petty chief Grimlack, who controls and is responsible for the 60 of those little green souls who are in the Tall-foot clan, named so because we¡¯re a few inches taller on average than the rest of the tribe, the rest of the tribe are split between the far-eye clan, the Long-ears clan and the main chiefs¡¯ clan, the Long-strider¡¯s.


    Money in the main chiefs war-band is good, with everyone getting to keep what they can loot from our skirmishes from other tribes. There¡¯s usually plenty to go around there.


    As I crest the rise on the next hill I reach the 3 story stone watchtower that marks the end of human territory in the area. Its always manned by 3 guards from the lord, his commitment to protecting the small village of Crestval that I was just leaving.


    ¡°Going back to the wild ah see stumpy!¡± one of the guardsmen shouted out


    ¡°well Tommens I can only plough your wife for one night, she can¡¯t handle me for any longer!¡± I shouted back while the other two guffawed


    ¡°I¡¯d believe that if your prick was big enough for the eye to see yah wee green arse¡± Tommens retorted. Laughing with the other two.


    Me and Tommens grew up together at the same time with both of us around twenty we have a good laugh at each others expense,


    I continued past the tower and down the road for about a mile before turning onto a path little better than a goat trail. By now the traces of my hangover were almost completely gone, a wonder what some work, walking and pissing into the bushes can do for a hangover, truly amazing.


    One hour down the trail and then I can see it in the distance, little columns of smoke rising from communal fire-pits all around the highest hill in the area, with stick and skin huts, well over one hundred of them clustered into four separations all ringed off by a rickety wooden Palisade that¡¯s about 6 feet tall.


    An incompetent imitation of the twelve foot one surrounding Crestval, human construction is hard to copy when your half their size.


    As I approach my tribe the stench of it hits me first, and suddenly my stomach remembers my hangover unexpectedly, leading to me puking for a minute and then gagging at the smell until I acclimatised to it again.


    Ahh, home sweet home.

 Big Goblin in a small tribe

    After my nose adapts to the smell of my ¡®rose scented¡¯ people -i mean you¡¯d think they would cover the latrine holes at this point, thankfully being a minor chief¡¯s son has some privileges, such as being able to shit privately in a proper latrine-


    I start my way towards the entrance to the tribe, which amounts to two rough doors of wooden planks nailed together, with rope hinges and rope lock on the other side connecting them, a real ¡®stalwart¡¯ defence, as well as a somewhat dubiously made wooden tower that peeks just over the wall.


    I prepare my ears but it¡¯s of little use when the grating voice of Gryf the Gate-guard.


    ¡°HAAAALT¡± he screeches, his adolescent voice breaking and adding to the already metal on metal grating quality of his voice.


    ¡°WHO GOES THERE¡± ugh Gortan has his voice actually gotten worse from yesterday?


    ¡°it¡¯s Tevclan who the fuck do you think it is, open the gate!¡± I shout


    ¡°hold on I need to go ask elder drosk¡± aw for fuck


    ¡°OPEN THE GATE NOW, OR I BEAT YOU TO A BLOODY PULP WHEN I GET IN THERE GRYF¡± the last thing I need is that old goat finding out I¡¯ve been drinking with humans again,


    then getting a lecture about how ¡°Goblins should be proud to be independent of the human menace¡±


    while he¡¯s standing on an offal covered road, surrounded by stick huts and hasn¡¯t washed in so long crusty doesn¡¯t just describe his age.


    Sure there are some humans who don¡¯t wash regularly, but they¡¯re usually frowned upon not revered as some sort of smelling font of wisdom.


    Anyway, I digress, it seems that my threat worked as soon after I shout I can hear someone untying the knot behind the gate until unceremoniously they swing inward and I stroll through,


    ¡°Gryf¡± I say


    ¡°yes?¡± The cowering goblin responds, his 3 foot 9 inch stature cowering under my relative height, holding onto his small iron tipped spears for dear life,


    ¡°let me into the gate without fuss from now on or I swear to Gortan I will get my dad to assign you to latrine digging duty for the foreseeable future, do you understand¡±


    His face pales even further as he responds ¡°understood¡±


    ¡°Good, now get back up that tower¡± I say as I walk away, entering the settlement is always an experience in and of itself.


    one upside of the lack of organisation of the tribe is that there¡¯s never a dull moment, to and outsider it would seem like absolute chaos but as the years go by bye you start to recognise certain things.


    For example, as I walked into the tribe there are two pot-bellied goblins rolling across the ¡®road¡¯ and at first glance this may seem like a couple of drunks toughing it out, but a more deliberating eye notes the state of half dress of one of them and the blushing goblin maid on the outskirts of the fight, it is then a greater picture of a cuckold getting his revenge reveals itself.


    And another might perhaps be forgiven for thinking that the tables set up outside of a tent with patrons drinking at it as a pub, but it¡¯s in fact an illegal moonshine seller that¡¯s set up in the square. And the local chiefs guards aren¡¯t shutting it down because of the simple fact that they¡¯re the ones drinking at it.


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    Passing by the illicit taproom I immediately head to the grand (comparatively) hut at the centre of this separation of the tribe, with the path towards it actually cobbled and it having metal hinges and door handle on the door, plus four small rough glass windows and the skull of a wolf at either side of the door.


    It¡¯s almost opulent comparatively.


    As I enter the building I¡¯m greeted by my youngest elder brother Gromsk.


    ¡°Alright Tev- what happened to you!?¡±


    ¡°I fought a forest¡± I replied.


    you see if I walked into any other house in this tribe they wouldn¡¯t care about me being covered in cuts and sick, but with me and my 8 brothers and 5 sisters cleanliness was instilled into us by our half-elf mother (don¡¯t ask how she¡¯s half elven she gets terribly offended) from our birth, with the only one escaping that being my father although he is a bit less grimy than the other goblins thanks to her.


    ¡°you better get in the bath before mum catches you looking like that or she¡¯ll smack you with the ladle again, and then dad¡¯ll beat you blue for getting her worked up¡± he explained with a smirk


    ¡°sounds about right, where is it now?¡± I ask as I see his smirk widen into an amused grin.


    ¡°It¡¯s in Jalveta¡¯s room¡± Awh for fuck sakes.


    ¡°thanks¡± I say ¡°this¡¯ll be interesting¡± Gromsk simply walks away chuckling


    Jalveta is¡­.. to say it diplomatically¡­ a complete arsehole of unrivalled proportion, truly a master at the art of being a complete prick despite the lack of one.


    Not the type of pull your hair and run away type of prick but the lets break dad¡¯s favourite shortsword intentionally and stick the remains under Tevclan¡¯s bed kind of prick.


    And that was just last week, the old man still hasn¡¯t properly forgiven me for my transgression.


    If I were to take the beating would it be better than this confrontation?


    Quite a difficult one there, but in the end dealing with Jalveta came as the easier alternative, mom wielded a really heavy ladle. From the front door I go right and down the dark, undressed wooden floor hallway until I reach the last of four rooms at the end of it.


    I knock on the door. ¡°come in¡±, as you enter jalveta¡¯s room the first thing you always notice is the sheer amount of animal skulls dotting her room as trophies, with her as one of the clans hunters, and as much as I hate to admit it she is one of the best in the tribe.


    In the room as I entered is Jalveta facing her back to me while Fletching some arrows.


    The small wooden tub sitting in the center of the room


    ¡°Jalveta I need to borrow the bath¡±


    ¡°Oh.. If I knew it was you I would have blocked the door, what do you want, Stumpy?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m only two inches shorter than you, and like I just said I need to take the tub¡±


    ¡°From the smell of you you¡¯ll need it, but why would I give it to you exactly, rather than let mum see you and laugh at you getting battered?¡±


    ¡°Sisterly love?¡± I responded


    ¡°Not a chance¡± she barked back in a laugh.


    ¡°Yep, I figured that, right, what do I need to do to get the tub back¡± Just speaking to her is starting to return my hangover headache


    ¡°Wait what?¡± she turned around regarding me with surprise ¡°oh my god you actually look worse than you smell, though that is the usual case with you¡± she said as she pinched her nose.


    She looks pensive for a moment, a weird look on her, she gazing around the room looking for something, until her eyes landed on a small wicker box about the length of my forearm, she picks it up and hands it to me.


    ¡°This is filled with money I¡¯ve been saving, I know you¡¯re buying a long knife from Trovund, I want one as well¡±


    ¡°Hold on a minute why not just buy it yourself?, We¡¯re not humans, no one expects you to settle down have a million brats and tend the garden. I replied confused.


    ¡°Quite frankly I don¡¯t think that involves you, so will you do it or will I go call mother?¡±


    ¡°Right fine I¡¯ll go just keep hush alright. Last thing I need is a lecture right now¡±


    I drag the wooden tub as quietly back to my room as possible, dragging the thick wooden tub throughout the hallway while silently swearing at the foor as it creaked at every small movement. boil some water and fill the tub. Drop my clothes and steep myself into the scalding water.


    Ahhhhhh¡­¡­.. as the soothing warmth from the water washed over me my eyes slowly drift close.