Arthur Daigle's Blog, page 16
November 12, 2013
Reading for Good Writing
Reading for Good Writing
I believe that a good writer needs to read ten pages for every one he writes. It sounds like a lot of reading, but this is no different from any other profession where students study the masters before they try to earn a living at the trade. Publishers won’t forgive poor writing and neither will readers, so it is worth your time to perfect your skills, and it should be a treated as a chance to learn rather than a chore.
The first books to start with are novels on writing. These how-to-write books cover all potential genres and offer some basic suggestions for effective writing. Most libraries carry at least a few of these books at no cost to the reader. I went through half a dozen of them when I first started out and they were worth the time. Each one offered a few good ideas for improving my work.
I should point out that I only own one how-to-write books. Many of them cover the same ideas, and often it’s material you should have learned in English class back in high school. This helps beginners, but often there is too much repeated information. But after you wade through this there can be some nuggets of real genius, like the importance of including details on what your characters smell in a scene. Get copies of these books from your library and mine them for all they’re worth, then move on to the next one.
The next and most obvious place to do some reading is in your own genre. Read successful books in your field of interest to get an idea of what has been done before and worked. This also shows what ideas have been overdone (vampire romance, anyone?) and should be avoided. The point is not to slavishly copy the styles and plots of other authors, but learn from them and see what they did to succeed. This can be misleading if the book is from many years ago when tastes were different, but even then there are lessons you can learn.
You can also take lessons from what books bombed. Find a few stinkers through Amazon.com’s reviews and check the out at your library to spare yourself some cash. There are many books that got into print and shouldn’t have, with bad grammar, stereotyped characters, overused plot ideas or a plot that changes throughout the book, and so on. Many times these weaknesses are camouflaged with stunning cover art to lure reader into a false sense that they’re getting their money’s worth. It can be helpful to read some bad books to see why they failed, and spend a few days studying how you would fix them (if possible).
Science books are another good place for useful ideas regardless of genre. You might think they don’t apply to your work, but having a layman’s understanding of basic sciences can help enormously. Take time to research the location of your book in regards to the kinds of animals, plants, weather and maybe even geology you can expect. Learn its history and what the people talk like. You might think readers wouldn’t notice if something is out of place, but they will. A good example is the original Dracula movie, where the Count has an armadillo roaming his castle (no joke!). Basic research prevents most of these mistakes.
Lastly I recommend reading history books and biographies. The real world is filled with drama, horror, romance and comedy like you wouldn’t believe. These books offer a wealth of plot ideas that can be introduced into your books. Study real people and see how complex they are, using that as an example of the kind of rich, detailed characters your books needs. Like reading the masters, the idea isn’t to wholesale steal someone’s life and present it in your book. Instead sample bits from many people’s lives, or borrow a few ideas or interesting facts for your book.
Older histories and biographies are also a rich source of ideas for character names. Many authors choose common names for their characters, sometimes using the same ones too often. Male leads are often given ‘strong’ names like Stone, Steel, Hawk and the like, to the point that it becomes a cliché. Older books have names that were common long ago but are rarely used today. Authors can draw on these to make their characters more distinctive with names you won’t find in a phonebook.
I believe that a good writer needs to read ten pages for every one he writes. It sounds like a lot of reading, but this is no different from any other profession where students study the masters before they try to earn a living at the trade. Publishers won’t forgive poor writing and neither will readers, so it is worth your time to perfect your skills, and it should be a treated as a chance to learn rather than a chore.
The first books to start with are novels on writing. These how-to-write books cover all potential genres and offer some basic suggestions for effective writing. Most libraries carry at least a few of these books at no cost to the reader. I went through half a dozen of them when I first started out and they were worth the time. Each one offered a few good ideas for improving my work.
I should point out that I only own one how-to-write books. Many of them cover the same ideas, and often it’s material you should have learned in English class back in high school. This helps beginners, but often there is too much repeated information. But after you wade through this there can be some nuggets of real genius, like the importance of including details on what your characters smell in a scene. Get copies of these books from your library and mine them for all they’re worth, then move on to the next one.
The next and most obvious place to do some reading is in your own genre. Read successful books in your field of interest to get an idea of what has been done before and worked. This also shows what ideas have been overdone (vampire romance, anyone?) and should be avoided. The point is not to slavishly copy the styles and plots of other authors, but learn from them and see what they did to succeed. This can be misleading if the book is from many years ago when tastes were different, but even then there are lessons you can learn.
You can also take lessons from what books bombed. Find a few stinkers through Amazon.com’s reviews and check the out at your library to spare yourself some cash. There are many books that got into print and shouldn’t have, with bad grammar, stereotyped characters, overused plot ideas or a plot that changes throughout the book, and so on. Many times these weaknesses are camouflaged with stunning cover art to lure reader into a false sense that they’re getting their money’s worth. It can be helpful to read some bad books to see why they failed, and spend a few days studying how you would fix them (if possible).
Science books are another good place for useful ideas regardless of genre. You might think they don’t apply to your work, but having a layman’s understanding of basic sciences can help enormously. Take time to research the location of your book in regards to the kinds of animals, plants, weather and maybe even geology you can expect. Learn its history and what the people talk like. You might think readers wouldn’t notice if something is out of place, but they will. A good example is the original Dracula movie, where the Count has an armadillo roaming his castle (no joke!). Basic research prevents most of these mistakes.
Lastly I recommend reading history books and biographies. The real world is filled with drama, horror, romance and comedy like you wouldn’t believe. These books offer a wealth of plot ideas that can be introduced into your books. Study real people and see how complex they are, using that as an example of the kind of rich, detailed characters your books needs. Like reading the masters, the idea isn’t to wholesale steal someone’s life and present it in your book. Instead sample bits from many people’s lives, or borrow a few ideas or interesting facts for your book.
Older histories and biographies are also a rich source of ideas for character names. Many authors choose common names for their characters, sometimes using the same ones too often. Male leads are often given ‘strong’ names like Stone, Steel, Hawk and the like, to the point that it becomes a cliché. Older books have names that were common long ago but are rarely used today. Authors can draw on these to make their characters more distinctive with names you won’t find in a phonebook.
September 25, 2013
lab rat goblins
Dealing with goblins typically involves nothing more than getting help from a few friends and having lots of patience. There will be traps, decoys, and possibly a small horde of goblins to deal with. This isn’t a problem for most people, especially when the average man is equal to ten goblins and a trained soldier is worth fifteen to twenty. But in some places this in no longer true, and the blame falls squarely on lab rat goblins.
Lab rats are a new guild, barely twenty years old and started by a single goblin called Vial. Vial is that most rare of creatures, a clever goblin. He witnessed a wizard using powerful magic and yearned for the same power. Vial petitioned numerous wizards to be taken on as an apprentice, but found no takers. The wizards believed (correctly) that Vial would misuse what they taught him, and he was sent on his way.
Vial was not so easily dissuaded. If wizards would not help him then he would find another way, and after much pondering and a spot of breaking and entering he discovered books on alchemy. It was a second place prize, to be sure, but better than nothing, and Vial promptly stole the books. He then took up residence in the Kingdom of the Goblins and set up a lab.
His first lab blew up. So did the second, third and fourth. Normally this would be proof of goblin stupidity, but alchemists of all races have these kinds of accidents. Eventually Vial mastered his new trade well enough that he was a threat to someone other than himself. From there he began to recruit more goblins until he founded a new guild. To date lab rats can only be found in the Kingdom of the Goblins, where Vial leads the small guild in defending the kingdom and causing totally unnecessary property damage. He has a dozen or so fellow alchemists and forty more goblins to gather raw materials for their bombs. These goblins are smarter than most of their kind but no less crazy.
It’s easy to identify lab rats. The entire guild wears white lab coats with many interior pockets, and many carry doctor’s bags. The pockets and bags are filled with small explosives the goblins will throw at the slightest sign of trouble. Lab rats live by themselves inside goblin communities to limit the damage when (not if) they accidentally cause an explosion. Their labs typically smell of strange chemicals used in making bombs and smoke from when the bombs go off.
Alchemists of other races spend their time and money trying to transmute elements, generally lead into gold or iron into silver. This is a very time intensive process that uses up great piles of money and doesn’t work. But the dream is that one day it will work, and greedy people keep paying alchemists to conduct research. Alchemists rarely make practical things people might actually buy, and only then under the threat of bankruptcy.
Lab rats have no interest in transmuting elements, for like most goblins they care little for money. They want bombs, the bigger the better. Most bombs are small enough to throw, while others are camouflaged as buckets, water barrels and outhouses. Lab rats don’t really care what they blow up so long as there is a constant flow of explosions. There is a good chance these explosives will go off prematurely and hurt their makers, but lab rats consider this an acceptable tradeoff for the damage they can do to enemies.
These bombs worry the other races terribly. A well-equipped lab rat goblin is a match for five to twenty enemies, a radical change in the status quo. And lab rats seldom work alone. Other goblin guilds seek out lab rats before they make mischief and either ask for help or drag the lab rat along. The goblins will then pull their prank with the lab rat providing much needed firepower. Lab rats dragooned in this fashion make even small groups of goblins far more dangerous than before.
Worse, lab rats are still learning. Today they can produce larger bombs capable of far greater damage. These bombs are hard to move or conceal, but the damage they cause is astonishing. Lab rats have recently begun making chemically generated light, and instant webbing and glues to incapacitate enemies (which has proven to be a surprisingly popular gag gift). Scholars claim this is the limit of what goblins can do, but the betting odds are that they are going to get even more dangerous.
Lab rats can be beaten if one is careful. It takes them a considerable amount of time to find rare ingredients for their bombs and more time to build them. This limit how many bombs they can make and how quickly they can replace them. There is also the issue of weight. Goblins aren’t strong, and there is a limit to how many bombs they can carry. Once those bombs are used the lab rat is helpless. Lastly, carrying around large quantities of unstable explosives is not a healthy thing to do. If a lab rat is hit his explosives may go off, with potentially deadly consequences for both the lab rat and his attacker.
Lab rats are a new guild, barely twenty years old and started by a single goblin called Vial. Vial is that most rare of creatures, a clever goblin. He witnessed a wizard using powerful magic and yearned for the same power. Vial petitioned numerous wizards to be taken on as an apprentice, but found no takers. The wizards believed (correctly) that Vial would misuse what they taught him, and he was sent on his way.
Vial was not so easily dissuaded. If wizards would not help him then he would find another way, and after much pondering and a spot of breaking and entering he discovered books on alchemy. It was a second place prize, to be sure, but better than nothing, and Vial promptly stole the books. He then took up residence in the Kingdom of the Goblins and set up a lab.
His first lab blew up. So did the second, third and fourth. Normally this would be proof of goblin stupidity, but alchemists of all races have these kinds of accidents. Eventually Vial mastered his new trade well enough that he was a threat to someone other than himself. From there he began to recruit more goblins until he founded a new guild. To date lab rats can only be found in the Kingdom of the Goblins, where Vial leads the small guild in defending the kingdom and causing totally unnecessary property damage. He has a dozen or so fellow alchemists and forty more goblins to gather raw materials for their bombs. These goblins are smarter than most of their kind but no less crazy.
It’s easy to identify lab rats. The entire guild wears white lab coats with many interior pockets, and many carry doctor’s bags. The pockets and bags are filled with small explosives the goblins will throw at the slightest sign of trouble. Lab rats live by themselves inside goblin communities to limit the damage when (not if) they accidentally cause an explosion. Their labs typically smell of strange chemicals used in making bombs and smoke from when the bombs go off.
Alchemists of other races spend their time and money trying to transmute elements, generally lead into gold or iron into silver. This is a very time intensive process that uses up great piles of money and doesn’t work. But the dream is that one day it will work, and greedy people keep paying alchemists to conduct research. Alchemists rarely make practical things people might actually buy, and only then under the threat of bankruptcy.
Lab rats have no interest in transmuting elements, for like most goblins they care little for money. They want bombs, the bigger the better. Most bombs are small enough to throw, while others are camouflaged as buckets, water barrels and outhouses. Lab rats don’t really care what they blow up so long as there is a constant flow of explosions. There is a good chance these explosives will go off prematurely and hurt their makers, but lab rats consider this an acceptable tradeoff for the damage they can do to enemies.
These bombs worry the other races terribly. A well-equipped lab rat goblin is a match for five to twenty enemies, a radical change in the status quo. And lab rats seldom work alone. Other goblin guilds seek out lab rats before they make mischief and either ask for help or drag the lab rat along. The goblins will then pull their prank with the lab rat providing much needed firepower. Lab rats dragooned in this fashion make even small groups of goblins far more dangerous than before.
Worse, lab rats are still learning. Today they can produce larger bombs capable of far greater damage. These bombs are hard to move or conceal, but the damage they cause is astonishing. Lab rats have recently begun making chemically generated light, and instant webbing and glues to incapacitate enemies (which has proven to be a surprisingly popular gag gift). Scholars claim this is the limit of what goblins can do, but the betting odds are that they are going to get even more dangerous.
Lab rats can be beaten if one is careful. It takes them a considerable amount of time to find rare ingredients for their bombs and more time to build them. This limit how many bombs they can make and how quickly they can replace them. There is also the issue of weight. Goblins aren’t strong, and there is a limit to how many bombs they can carry. Once those bombs are used the lab rat is helpless. Lastly, carrying around large quantities of unstable explosives is not a healthy thing to do. If a lab rat is hit his explosives may go off, with potentially deadly consequences for both the lab rat and his attacker.
August 20, 2013
Performer Goblins
Running into goblins is one of life's little annoyances. You can expect pie traps, covered pits with skunks in them, and explosives if you're really unlucky. But the most frustrating and astounding thing about goblins is that beings so mind-blowingly stupid can learn. Goblins have studied the more civilized races over the years, and recently they developed a new guild called performers to better sow confusion.
Performer goblins typically live in small clusters within goblin settlements. Their homes are loaded with pots of bright paint, tacky clothes and bits of shiny metal trash. There will also be musical instruments they can barely play and various noisemakers. Performers don't cause trouble except when they're in the company of other goblin guilds. Indeed, when performers encounter other races without goblin backup they ignore the lucky soul.
What is so noticeable about performer goblins is that they are so noticeable. Goblins know the best way to take a punch is by being somewhere else when it lands. The do their best to avoid detection with camouflage, by traveling through tunnels and by being active at night. When they are detected, goblins run for their lives while trying to slow pursuers with traps.
But performers want you to see them. They wear garishly bright clothes. They make noise, the louder the better. They step out into the open for all to see, practically begging someone to take a shot at them. True, most goblins are stupid and a bit crazy, but there is actually a reason for what they do.
Performer goblins want you watching them instead of the fifty goblins coming up behind you.
The plan typically goes as follows: a mob of goblins decides to cause some trouble, like filling the mayor's house floor to ceiling with monkey dung. If the target is well defended or so public that passing people will try to stop the goblins, they call in a performer. One or more performers volunteer to distract the victims while the other goblins make their attack. The performer splashes paint and attaches bits of shiny metal to a makeshift stage, usually a wagon, vendor's stall or small building. He then draws attention to himself, fleeing when the prank is done.
These distractions come in different themes. Some performers do comedy routines including slapstick and puns to get people to notice them. Others play musical instruments as loud as they can, and on rare occasions they even play them well. Performers may parody important people, dressing up like them and reciting satirical speeches to humiliate their victims.
Another favorite tactic is to pretend to be something more dangerous than they really are. The goblins paint fake eyespots on dark clothes so they look like large, dangerous monsters. Or they dress up like wizards, some even going so far as to carry broken wands cast off by real magicians. This kind of distraction seldom lasts long, but sometimes a quick scare is all that's needed.
These distractions are a careful matter of timing and taste. The performer needs to keep his victims' attention long enough for the other goblins to pull of their prank. If the act is too short the victims will lose interest and notice the other goblins. If their act is too long it runs the risk that dangerous people like soldiers or knights will show up. The act has to be obnoxious enough that people pay attention or they aren't distracting anyone. But if it is too obnoxious the victims will get outraged and attack the performer.
Performers have several ways of dealing with danger. Their bright costumes are made of flimsy material, with darker or camouflaged clothes beneath. If they have to run they can tear off the costume to better hide. Performers also carefully study an area before a prank to identify escape routes. This way they can make a quick escape even with an angry mob on their heels. Lastly, performers can make traps as well as other goblins, and they lay traps on their escape routes to delay pursuers.
Ironically some performers gain acceptance among other races. Many large cities have seedy bars and taverns where this kind of humor and mischief is considered real entertainment. Bar owners sometimes invite performers to put on an act, and they pay the goblins in cheese. Performers accept such offers and use them as opportunities to test new acts.
As a rule performers pose little danger. They travel light to better escape retaliation, and since they work alone or in small groups they couldn't hope to stand and fight even if they had weapons. But there are exceptions. The best known case is when a band of brutal river pirates attacked a small town at harvest time. The situation looked grim when a lone performer goblin dressed as a wizard came to the rescue (technically he'd come to steal some cheese and he didn't want the pirates to take it all first, but while quibble about details?). The pirates saw through the ruse immediately and laughed when he waved his wand. They discovered a moment later that the Wand of Winter's Fury he was carrying wasn't broken, and that the performer was very experienced with it.
Performer goblins typically live in small clusters within goblin settlements. Their homes are loaded with pots of bright paint, tacky clothes and bits of shiny metal trash. There will also be musical instruments they can barely play and various noisemakers. Performers don't cause trouble except when they're in the company of other goblin guilds. Indeed, when performers encounter other races without goblin backup they ignore the lucky soul.
What is so noticeable about performer goblins is that they are so noticeable. Goblins know the best way to take a punch is by being somewhere else when it lands. The do their best to avoid detection with camouflage, by traveling through tunnels and by being active at night. When they are detected, goblins run for their lives while trying to slow pursuers with traps.
But performers want you to see them. They wear garishly bright clothes. They make noise, the louder the better. They step out into the open for all to see, practically begging someone to take a shot at them. True, most goblins are stupid and a bit crazy, but there is actually a reason for what they do.
Performer goblins want you watching them instead of the fifty goblins coming up behind you.
The plan typically goes as follows: a mob of goblins decides to cause some trouble, like filling the mayor's house floor to ceiling with monkey dung. If the target is well defended or so public that passing people will try to stop the goblins, they call in a performer. One or more performers volunteer to distract the victims while the other goblins make their attack. The performer splashes paint and attaches bits of shiny metal to a makeshift stage, usually a wagon, vendor's stall or small building. He then draws attention to himself, fleeing when the prank is done.
These distractions come in different themes. Some performers do comedy routines including slapstick and puns to get people to notice them. Others play musical instruments as loud as they can, and on rare occasions they even play them well. Performers may parody important people, dressing up like them and reciting satirical speeches to humiliate their victims.
Another favorite tactic is to pretend to be something more dangerous than they really are. The goblins paint fake eyespots on dark clothes so they look like large, dangerous monsters. Or they dress up like wizards, some even going so far as to carry broken wands cast off by real magicians. This kind of distraction seldom lasts long, but sometimes a quick scare is all that's needed.
These distractions are a careful matter of timing and taste. The performer needs to keep his victims' attention long enough for the other goblins to pull of their prank. If the act is too short the victims will lose interest and notice the other goblins. If their act is too long it runs the risk that dangerous people like soldiers or knights will show up. The act has to be obnoxious enough that people pay attention or they aren't distracting anyone. But if it is too obnoxious the victims will get outraged and attack the performer.
Performers have several ways of dealing with danger. Their bright costumes are made of flimsy material, with darker or camouflaged clothes beneath. If they have to run they can tear off the costume to better hide. Performers also carefully study an area before a prank to identify escape routes. This way they can make a quick escape even with an angry mob on their heels. Lastly, performers can make traps as well as other goblins, and they lay traps on their escape routes to delay pursuers.
Ironically some performers gain acceptance among other races. Many large cities have seedy bars and taverns where this kind of humor and mischief is considered real entertainment. Bar owners sometimes invite performers to put on an act, and they pay the goblins in cheese. Performers accept such offers and use them as opportunities to test new acts.
As a rule performers pose little danger. They travel light to better escape retaliation, and since they work alone or in small groups they couldn't hope to stand and fight even if they had weapons. But there are exceptions. The best known case is when a band of brutal river pirates attacked a small town at harvest time. The situation looked grim when a lone performer goblin dressed as a wizard came to the rescue (technically he'd come to steal some cheese and he didn't want the pirates to take it all first, but while quibble about details?). The pirates saw through the ruse immediately and laughed when he waved his wand. They discovered a moment later that the Wand of Winter's Fury he was carrying wasn't broken, and that the performer was very experienced with it.
February 13, 2013
goblin tricks
Goblins are insanely inventive when it comes to making traps. Pie throwers, covered pits, booby trapped toilets,they've done them all, and they come up with new traps all the time. This makes dealing with goblins hard, and evicting them from your neighborhood even harder. But the are some perennial favorite traps that come up more often than others, and knowing how to deal with them can make the difference between grabbing hold of an offending goblin and suffering the latest outrage from the snickering pest.
Pit traps and goblins are almost synonymous. Goblins dig these pits during the night, usually on busy roads or in front of outhouses. The pits are then covered with thin branches and then a layer of sod or thatch. The branches can support the weight of the thatch, but anything heavier goes right through. As an added insult, goblins like to leave nasty things in the pit for their victims to land on, like live skunks, moldy cabbage, spoiled milk, campaign literature or other noxious substances.
But goblins have come up with an improvement on the old design. They place a wide board across the pit, covering the rest with the usual branches and thatch. Both ends of the board are marked with something noticeable but not unusual, like an old corncob. The goblins then pull a prank that is sure to make the victim chase him. He leads the victim to the pit and runs cross the board, making the way look safe. But chances are good that the victim won't run across the board, and placing even one foot on the thatch is enough to send the poor fool into the pit.
Goblins generally want nothing to do with money, as they're not allowed in stores to spend it and other races would think nothing of beating them up to get the cash. But some goblins have found ways to use money to their advantage. The first is as a lure. They place a few coins on the center of a pit trap, and anyone trying to get the money falls in. Goblins also weave small pouches out of straw, filling them with coins and extra straw to keep the money from jingling. If the goblin is in danger he will rip open the pouch and scatter the coins behind him. He's counting on you stopping to pick up the money rather than chase him. If there are other people around they may go for the money as well, getting in the pursuer's way and letting the goblin escape.
Decoys are another goblin specialty. These are straw dummies dressed and armed to look like goblins, and are placed in bushes where they are hard, but not impossible, to see. Goblins fleeing enemies will run passed the decoys, and in the heat of the moment the decoys look like a goblin gang waiting in ambush. Victims generally attack the decoys or fall back until they realize that they aren't in danger. Either way the goblin has an opportunity to get away.
But some goblins take a different approach by making decoy people. These larger dummies are placed around corners or behind trees, and are dressed and armed like bandits, thieves, lawyers or soldiers from a neighboring kingdom. Goblins escaping enemies run for these decoys, and victims generally flee when they think they're facing an armed man. In extreme cases the goblins will make a dozen or more such decoys and place them in a phony camp, making them look like invading enemies or a bandit camp. When nearby people see this they will either flee if they're weak or attack if they're strong. Either response give the goblins a chance to make mischief when their enemies are busy.
While goblins can eat almost anything, they have an interest in spices that has nothing to do with food. Whenever possible they get their hands on black pepper, anise seed or other strong smelling spices, which they grind up and store in jars. When faced with knights or other armored foes they blow the spices into the enemys' faces. The cloud easily gets inside the armor, and knights aren't very dangerous when they're too busy sneezing and coughing to fight. If the knight is mounted his horse gets a sniff too, which panics the animal and sends it running away at full speed. The effects are temporary, but last long enough for the goblins to attack the helpless knights or flee for their lives.
Another favorite trick involves beer. The goblins of Other Place are immune to most poisons, including alcohol, so they can't get drunk. But they know that the other races can. Goblins will steal barrels of beer or wine, and before an attack will leave them where their victims are sure to find them. They try to make it look like the barrels fell off a wagon or were stolen and hidden in an abandoned building. The victims take the barrels home and get riotously drunk, and while they are incapacitated the goblins move in and cause mayhem. Oddly enough, many times the victims consider getting free booze worth the damage.
Pit traps and goblins are almost synonymous. Goblins dig these pits during the night, usually on busy roads or in front of outhouses. The pits are then covered with thin branches and then a layer of sod or thatch. The branches can support the weight of the thatch, but anything heavier goes right through. As an added insult, goblins like to leave nasty things in the pit for their victims to land on, like live skunks, moldy cabbage, spoiled milk, campaign literature or other noxious substances.
But goblins have come up with an improvement on the old design. They place a wide board across the pit, covering the rest with the usual branches and thatch. Both ends of the board are marked with something noticeable but not unusual, like an old corncob. The goblins then pull a prank that is sure to make the victim chase him. He leads the victim to the pit and runs cross the board, making the way look safe. But chances are good that the victim won't run across the board, and placing even one foot on the thatch is enough to send the poor fool into the pit.
Goblins generally want nothing to do with money, as they're not allowed in stores to spend it and other races would think nothing of beating them up to get the cash. But some goblins have found ways to use money to their advantage. The first is as a lure. They place a few coins on the center of a pit trap, and anyone trying to get the money falls in. Goblins also weave small pouches out of straw, filling them with coins and extra straw to keep the money from jingling. If the goblin is in danger he will rip open the pouch and scatter the coins behind him. He's counting on you stopping to pick up the money rather than chase him. If there are other people around they may go for the money as well, getting in the pursuer's way and letting the goblin escape.
Decoys are another goblin specialty. These are straw dummies dressed and armed to look like goblins, and are placed in bushes where they are hard, but not impossible, to see. Goblins fleeing enemies will run passed the decoys, and in the heat of the moment the decoys look like a goblin gang waiting in ambush. Victims generally attack the decoys or fall back until they realize that they aren't in danger. Either way the goblin has an opportunity to get away.
But some goblins take a different approach by making decoy people. These larger dummies are placed around corners or behind trees, and are dressed and armed like bandits, thieves, lawyers or soldiers from a neighboring kingdom. Goblins escaping enemies run for these decoys, and victims generally flee when they think they're facing an armed man. In extreme cases the goblins will make a dozen or more such decoys and place them in a phony camp, making them look like invading enemies or a bandit camp. When nearby people see this they will either flee if they're weak or attack if they're strong. Either response give the goblins a chance to make mischief when their enemies are busy.
While goblins can eat almost anything, they have an interest in spices that has nothing to do with food. Whenever possible they get their hands on black pepper, anise seed or other strong smelling spices, which they grind up and store in jars. When faced with knights or other armored foes they blow the spices into the enemys' faces. The cloud easily gets inside the armor, and knights aren't very dangerous when they're too busy sneezing and coughing to fight. If the knight is mounted his horse gets a sniff too, which panics the animal and sends it running away at full speed. The effects are temporary, but last long enough for the goblins to attack the helpless knights or flee for their lives.
Another favorite trick involves beer. The goblins of Other Place are immune to most poisons, including alcohol, so they can't get drunk. But they know that the other races can. Goblins will steal barrels of beer or wine, and before an attack will leave them where their victims are sure to find them. They try to make it look like the barrels fell off a wagon or were stolen and hidden in an abandoned building. The victims take the barrels home and get riotously drunk, and while they are incapacitated the goblins move in and cause mayhem. Oddly enough, many times the victims consider getting free booze worth the damage.
January 9, 2013
Digger Goblins
When goblins move into your neighborhood there are a few things you can expect, namely pie traps, lower property values and the occasional pet shaved and painted blue. But the danger doesn't stop when that's done. Depending on what kind of goblins you have, you might have to deal with brick walls appearing overnight on major roads, catapults firing moldy cabbage at your mayor and the odd explosion in the toilet.
Digger Goblins
Along with warriors and builders, digger goblins are among the most common goblins on the world of Other Place, a fact few know. Most people won't see a digger no matter how many are present. This is not because diggers cause less trouble, but because they spend so much of their time underground. Diggers only come aboveground for food, and they won't even do that if they have warrior goblins bringing it to them.
If you do see them, diggers can be identified by the hammers, picks and shovels they use in excavation. They also wear orange safety helmets because of union rules. Diggers can't see in the dark any better than other goblins, so they keep a supply of candles, torches and lanterns close at hand.
As their name implies, diggers excel at excavation. They can quickly tunnel through dirt and rock, although the resulting tunnels are seldom large, clean or comfortable. While diggers are no stronger than other goblins, they make excellent progress tunneling by virtue of the long hours and overwhelming number of goblins they can put on a task.
Oddly enough, despite their hard work tunneling, diggers have no interest in gems or precious metals. Their sole reason for going underground is safety. A goblin aboveground is at a serious disadvantage to the larger races, but the situation is reversed below ground. Here the advantage belongs to the goblins. Low tunnels force men and elves to crouch down while goblins can run free, and the tunnels are too narrow for even the smallest siege engines. Few animals will go underground and cavalry can't enter at all. And that doesn't even take goblin traps into account. Digger goblins are fond of traps, and they once dropped 5000 pounds of monkey dung on a dwarf expedition force (nobody knows where they got it and nobody wants to know). This goes a long way to improving the long odds goblins face in a fight, and few races will follow them underground.
While digger goblins can do hard work, they take shortcuts when they can. They look for existing cave networks to settle in and expand upon. Barring that they will settle for city sewers, where they make a constant nuisance of themselves. But unoccupied caves are rare and hotly contested (a literal statement when is comes to dragons), and city inhabitants throw them out of sewers. Diggers far prefer abandoned mines.
Diggers regularly send scouts to investigate nearby mines and determine if they are exhausted. Goblins will swarm into a mine within a week of it being played out and abandoned by the miners. Few people care that they move in since the mine is now useless, one of the few times goblin activity doesn't provoke a backlash. In the unlikely event that the goblins discover an untapped ore vein they will immediately try to cover it up. They will go so far as to leave a mine if it still has considerable mineral wealth, for the risk is too great that other races will try to retake the mine if the news gets out.
Once diggers have occupied a mine or cave they work hard to expand it. They dig out chambers for housing, workshops and storage areas. Mine tailings are turned over to builder goblins for use in buildings aboveground. The diggers also make many extra entrances and exits to their underground home, for goblins know too well that other races can attack in enough force to overwhelm them, making a hasty exit a necessity. The population in these mines can swell to enormous numbers as the diggers make room for other goblins, and it's common for a mine to have a thousand inhabitants. More than one intrepid explorer has found out the hard way that an old mine entrance led to a goblin horde.
Digger goblins seldom take a direct part in a battle, but their influence is still felt. Diggers make so many tunnels and emergency exits that goblins can pop up from almost anywhere in their territory. This allows warrior goblins to appear behind enemy lines to attack supply depots and cut lines of communication. Given enough time and plenty of diggers, these tunnels can stretch for miles and go beneath enemy cities. Indeed, city dwellers across Other Place have to contend with goblins using these tunnels to enter basements and city sewers.
Diggers can do far more damage on those rare times they are truly enraged. Given time diggers can tunnel under enemy fortifications, destroying the foundations and causing city walls and even castles to collapse. They don't do this often, for it takes months to make these tunnels and goblins rarely stay angry that long. But there are desolate places in the wilderness where old castles were once ruled by cruel bandit kings or evil wizards using dark magic, and they are now nothing more than piles of broken bricks with empty tunnels beneath them.
Digger Goblins
Along with warriors and builders, digger goblins are among the most common goblins on the world of Other Place, a fact few know. Most people won't see a digger no matter how many are present. This is not because diggers cause less trouble, but because they spend so much of their time underground. Diggers only come aboveground for food, and they won't even do that if they have warrior goblins bringing it to them.
If you do see them, diggers can be identified by the hammers, picks and shovels they use in excavation. They also wear orange safety helmets because of union rules. Diggers can't see in the dark any better than other goblins, so they keep a supply of candles, torches and lanterns close at hand.
As their name implies, diggers excel at excavation. They can quickly tunnel through dirt and rock, although the resulting tunnels are seldom large, clean or comfortable. While diggers are no stronger than other goblins, they make excellent progress tunneling by virtue of the long hours and overwhelming number of goblins they can put on a task.
Oddly enough, despite their hard work tunneling, diggers have no interest in gems or precious metals. Their sole reason for going underground is safety. A goblin aboveground is at a serious disadvantage to the larger races, but the situation is reversed below ground. Here the advantage belongs to the goblins. Low tunnels force men and elves to crouch down while goblins can run free, and the tunnels are too narrow for even the smallest siege engines. Few animals will go underground and cavalry can't enter at all. And that doesn't even take goblin traps into account. Digger goblins are fond of traps, and they once dropped 5000 pounds of monkey dung on a dwarf expedition force (nobody knows where they got it and nobody wants to know). This goes a long way to improving the long odds goblins face in a fight, and few races will follow them underground.
While digger goblins can do hard work, they take shortcuts when they can. They look for existing cave networks to settle in and expand upon. Barring that they will settle for city sewers, where they make a constant nuisance of themselves. But unoccupied caves are rare and hotly contested (a literal statement when is comes to dragons), and city inhabitants throw them out of sewers. Diggers far prefer abandoned mines.
Diggers regularly send scouts to investigate nearby mines and determine if they are exhausted. Goblins will swarm into a mine within a week of it being played out and abandoned by the miners. Few people care that they move in since the mine is now useless, one of the few times goblin activity doesn't provoke a backlash. In the unlikely event that the goblins discover an untapped ore vein they will immediately try to cover it up. They will go so far as to leave a mine if it still has considerable mineral wealth, for the risk is too great that other races will try to retake the mine if the news gets out.
Once diggers have occupied a mine or cave they work hard to expand it. They dig out chambers for housing, workshops and storage areas. Mine tailings are turned over to builder goblins for use in buildings aboveground. The diggers also make many extra entrances and exits to their underground home, for goblins know too well that other races can attack in enough force to overwhelm them, making a hasty exit a necessity. The population in these mines can swell to enormous numbers as the diggers make room for other goblins, and it's common for a mine to have a thousand inhabitants. More than one intrepid explorer has found out the hard way that an old mine entrance led to a goblin horde.
Digger goblins seldom take a direct part in a battle, but their influence is still felt. Diggers make so many tunnels and emergency exits that goblins can pop up from almost anywhere in their territory. This allows warrior goblins to appear behind enemy lines to attack supply depots and cut lines of communication. Given enough time and plenty of diggers, these tunnels can stretch for miles and go beneath enemy cities. Indeed, city dwellers across Other Place have to contend with goblins using these tunnels to enter basements and city sewers.
Diggers can do far more damage on those rare times they are truly enraged. Given time diggers can tunnel under enemy fortifications, destroying the foundations and causing city walls and even castles to collapse. They don't do this often, for it takes months to make these tunnels and goblins rarely stay angry that long. But there are desolate places in the wilderness where old castles were once ruled by cruel bandit kings or evil wizards using dark magic, and they are now nothing more than piles of broken bricks with empty tunnels beneath them.
December 12, 2012
Builder Goblins
So you've just learned that there are goblins in your neighborhood. What do you do?
Scream.
That's a perfectly normal reaction, and you shouldn't be ashamed. So go ahead and get it out of your system. But now you have to do something about the problem, and the first step is to identify what guild the goblins are with. This will help you to prepare for the coming wave of chaos and confusion, such as pie traps on your front step, or secret tunnels dug into your living room.
Builder Goblins.
Alongside warriors and diggers, builder goblins are one of the largest guilds. Recognizing them can be hard, as their tools can double as weapons or excavating tools. But once builders have set to work there is no mistaking what you have, for they can slap together small, poorly made structures in only a matter of hours. Most goblin dwellings are made by builders, and on rare ocassions maintained by them as well. Builders rarely stop working, and they will make new homes even when there is enough housing for their community. These surplus homes are often made miles away from the goblin settlement and may remain empty for months.
The average goblin home is made of stone, wood or packed dirt, and is both small and not very sturdy. There are always multiple exits to a goblin home so marauding enemies can't trap them inside. These homes violate nearly every safety code in existence and fall down quite often, keeping the builders busy replacing them. Goblins will also settle in ruins long abandoned by other races. In these cases builders will do the absolute minimum amount of work to keep the ruins from completely collapsing. Many people see these facts and assume that builders can't do good work.
This is a serious mistake.
Goblins in general and builders in particular take a very fatalistic approach to their possessions. Namely, if they have something nice then someone bigger and stronger than they are is going to show up and take it from them, and that includes their homes. This is not paranoia on their part. History is filled with times when desperate men who had lost their homes decided to occupy ruined cities and castles, with the resident goblins having hours at best to vacate before they were forced out. Armies of men, elves and dwarfs often attack goblin communities when their people grow tired of goblin antics, and sometimes for no reason other than to give the soldiers practice. There is no sense in builders investing a lot of time and effort into a home when it could be destroyed at any time, and if a ruined city or castle is patched up enough then it practically invites enemies to seize it.
But builder goblins can do good work when they have a reason to. When war looms, builders can make small forts and stone lined trenches. These structures seldom last long, but they hold up well for the time they're needed. Builders are also infamous for making sturdy stone walls in inopportune places, like on narrow mountain roads and the entrances to bridges and tunnels. These walls may not be as well made as those of other races, but goblins compensate by making them very thick. Enemies can't go around them and may need hours or days to breach them. This give the goblins a chance to flee or (less likely) to prepare for the coming conflict. In one particularly appalling case, builders made stone walls around every outhouse in Ket Kingdom, causing much distress and ruining many pairs of pants.
And builder goblins make so many unnecessary homes for a reason. Goblins will often flee their communities at the first sign of an attack, taking what little they can carry. The empty homes are then destroyed, and the 'victorious' enemy leaves believing that they have driven off the goblins. In fact the goblins have simply moved into the empty houses and are soon ready to start making mischief again. If the goblins really are run off then they head to the next nearest goblin settlement, where they can move into the empty buildings without cluttering up the dens and living rooms of the local goblins.
Another advantage builder goblins have is their skill at camouflage. Goblins are weaker than the other races, and a good way for them not to get hurt is if they aren't seen (an even better way would be if they'd stop antagonizing their neighbors, but that's not going to happen). To this end, many builders cunningly hide the homes they've made. They often dig them into hillsides and conceal the doors. Another favorite tactic is to build a goblin home underneath a human house, with the goblin home only accessible by long, narrow tunnels. They will even hollow out large dead trees for smaller goblins to live in. Many times travels think that they are alone in the woods, never realizing that they are walking through the middle of a goblin community hundreds strong.
Builder goblins have one last skill, and this makes them particularly dangerous. Builders aren't as good in a fight as warrior goblins (and that's saying something!), but they are more destructive to property. Builders have a fair knowledge of how structures are put together, and they know where to hit to bring them down. On those rare occasions when goblins are angry enough to go on the warpath, warrior goblins will shield the builders while they attack enemy cities and castles. They can do massive damage in a short time if they aren't stopped. While the goblins inevitably lose these battles, the winners often find that they need years to recover from their victories.
Scream.
That's a perfectly normal reaction, and you shouldn't be ashamed. So go ahead and get it out of your system. But now you have to do something about the problem, and the first step is to identify what guild the goblins are with. This will help you to prepare for the coming wave of chaos and confusion, such as pie traps on your front step, or secret tunnels dug into your living room.
Builder Goblins.
Alongside warriors and diggers, builder goblins are one of the largest guilds. Recognizing them can be hard, as their tools can double as weapons or excavating tools. But once builders have set to work there is no mistaking what you have, for they can slap together small, poorly made structures in only a matter of hours. Most goblin dwellings are made by builders, and on rare ocassions maintained by them as well. Builders rarely stop working, and they will make new homes even when there is enough housing for their community. These surplus homes are often made miles away from the goblin settlement and may remain empty for months.
The average goblin home is made of stone, wood or packed dirt, and is both small and not very sturdy. There are always multiple exits to a goblin home so marauding enemies can't trap them inside. These homes violate nearly every safety code in existence and fall down quite often, keeping the builders busy replacing them. Goblins will also settle in ruins long abandoned by other races. In these cases builders will do the absolute minimum amount of work to keep the ruins from completely collapsing. Many people see these facts and assume that builders can't do good work.
This is a serious mistake.
Goblins in general and builders in particular take a very fatalistic approach to their possessions. Namely, if they have something nice then someone bigger and stronger than they are is going to show up and take it from them, and that includes their homes. This is not paranoia on their part. History is filled with times when desperate men who had lost their homes decided to occupy ruined cities and castles, with the resident goblins having hours at best to vacate before they were forced out. Armies of men, elves and dwarfs often attack goblin communities when their people grow tired of goblin antics, and sometimes for no reason other than to give the soldiers practice. There is no sense in builders investing a lot of time and effort into a home when it could be destroyed at any time, and if a ruined city or castle is patched up enough then it practically invites enemies to seize it.
But builder goblins can do good work when they have a reason to. When war looms, builders can make small forts and stone lined trenches. These structures seldom last long, but they hold up well for the time they're needed. Builders are also infamous for making sturdy stone walls in inopportune places, like on narrow mountain roads and the entrances to bridges and tunnels. These walls may not be as well made as those of other races, but goblins compensate by making them very thick. Enemies can't go around them and may need hours or days to breach them. This give the goblins a chance to flee or (less likely) to prepare for the coming conflict. In one particularly appalling case, builders made stone walls around every outhouse in Ket Kingdom, causing much distress and ruining many pairs of pants.
And builder goblins make so many unnecessary homes for a reason. Goblins will often flee their communities at the first sign of an attack, taking what little they can carry. The empty homes are then destroyed, and the 'victorious' enemy leaves believing that they have driven off the goblins. In fact the goblins have simply moved into the empty houses and are soon ready to start making mischief again. If the goblins really are run off then they head to the next nearest goblin settlement, where they can move into the empty buildings without cluttering up the dens and living rooms of the local goblins.
Another advantage builder goblins have is their skill at camouflage. Goblins are weaker than the other races, and a good way for them not to get hurt is if they aren't seen (an even better way would be if they'd stop antagonizing their neighbors, but that's not going to happen). To this end, many builders cunningly hide the homes they've made. They often dig them into hillsides and conceal the doors. Another favorite tactic is to build a goblin home underneath a human house, with the goblin home only accessible by long, narrow tunnels. They will even hollow out large dead trees for smaller goblins to live in. Many times travels think that they are alone in the woods, never realizing that they are walking through the middle of a goblin community hundreds strong.
Builder goblins have one last skill, and this makes them particularly dangerous. Builders aren't as good in a fight as warrior goblins (and that's saying something!), but they are more destructive to property. Builders have a fair knowledge of how structures are put together, and they know where to hit to bring them down. On those rare occasions when goblins are angry enough to go on the warpath, warrior goblins will shield the builders while they attack enemy cities and castles. They can do massive damage in a short time if they aren't stopped. While the goblins inevitably lose these battles, the winners often find that they need years to recover from their victories.
November 26, 2012
warrior goblins
The goblins of Other Place are a diverse and obnoxious lot, coming in a variety of annoying forms. Finding a goblin is easy enough (just follow the sound of chaos and needless property damage), but once you have the little bugger in your sights it's important to find out what guild they're in. While goblins vary in appearance, you may be able to tell what guild they belong to based on their behavior and possessions. This will tell you whether to expect a pit trap in your bathroom, explosives rigged to your sock drawer, or that your front door may now be bricked over.
Warrior Goblins
Warrior goblins are dedicated to fighting, and generally losing, the many battles that goblins are involved in. They are at the front line of every goblin conflict, be it against humans, elves, dwarfs or most commonly other goblins. The reason for the fight is unimportant to a goblin, and they will actually forget the cause they're fighting for unless the threat is truly dire.
Warriors goblins are among the most numerous goblins on Other Place and potentially the easiest to identify. Many warriors wear miniature versions of WWI German infantry uniforms complete with spiked helmets. It's not clear how this custom began since goblins have never been to Earth (we hope). Equally confusing is how goblins could make such faithful replicas of these uniforms with the few resources available to them and their limited skill. But make them they do, and nearly half of all warriors wear them. The expressed reason is that the spiked helmets are so ridiculous that they simply have to wear them. An equal number of warrior goblins refuse to have anything to do with the uniforms, claiming that everything they do is already ridiculous.
A normal army would have officers and generals, but no one ever called goblins normal. While some goblins are smarter or more skilled than others, there are no real leaders among them. Warriors follow any goblin that can come up with a plan that promises to create chaos and amusement. If another goblin comes up with a better plan later on then the group will abandon their original mission in favor of the new one. It's not uncommon for a band of warriors to change plans and leaders five times in a week. The most extreme example of this was when eighty goblins started out on a mission to steal cheese, only to end up a month later stuffing a notorious evil wizard into a barrel of pickled herring and leaving him at the gate of a castle.
The average warrior is no stronger than his counterparts in other guilds. This is something of a problem, as an enthusiastic toddle can give most goblins a run for their money, while an adult can handle ten goblins and a competent soldier can fight twenty with an even chance of winning. It's little wonder why goblins lose so often. It doesn't help matters at all that warrior goblins are disorganized and suffer from poor morale, and like most goblins they're as dumb as rocks (and not the good kind of rocks, either.
Warriors have a variety of ways to overcome these disadvantages. The first is through overwhelming numbers. Goblins only fight when they can smother their enemies with waves of goblins. Ten-to-one is the lowest odds a goblin will take, while thirty-to-one is seen as a good bet. The largest odds yet known in a goblin conflict was 947 to one, which convinced Ted Salik to forever abandon selling insurance door-to-door.
Their second advantage is oddly enough in equipment. Goblins generally have poor quality weapons, favoring wooden clubs and shields that can be easily replaced if the goblin gets hungry and eats them (which happens more often than you're think). But some warriors have developed light siege weapons that have proven surprisingly effective. The best known of these are goblin catapults and slingshots.
Goblin catapults actually fire goblins wearing hand gliders. These have a long range and allow goblins to quickly place warriors in unexpected places. More than one battle has ended badly when twenty goblins soared out of the sky to land on an enemy general's head. The catapults can also be used to fire rocks or buckets or other materials, but the catapult crews are traditionalists and far prefer sending someone screaming through the air.
Goblin slingshots are three feet tall and don't have the range of catapults. But they are lighter, easier to build and easier to move than catapults, perfect for goblins on the move. The ammunition of choice is rickety buckets filled with goblin stew. Goblins love goblin stew, but all other sentient races consider the vile smelling concoction a crime against nature. Hurled buckets break on impact and splatter enemy troops with the noxious stuff, making them violently ill and producing astonishingly high laundry bills.
The last way goblins even the odds is with traps. Goblins of all guilds love traps and set them constantly, but warriors use these traps in battle. Given enough time they can create trap fields, regions filled with cleverly hidden traps that can disable dozens or even hundreds of enemies. Most of the victims recover quickly, only to take two steps and set off another trap. Warrior goblins use these traps to weaken and divide enemy forces, allowing them to take on the few enemies still standing at much better odds.
Warrior Goblins
Warrior goblins are dedicated to fighting, and generally losing, the many battles that goblins are involved in. They are at the front line of every goblin conflict, be it against humans, elves, dwarfs or most commonly other goblins. The reason for the fight is unimportant to a goblin, and they will actually forget the cause they're fighting for unless the threat is truly dire.
Warriors goblins are among the most numerous goblins on Other Place and potentially the easiest to identify. Many warriors wear miniature versions of WWI German infantry uniforms complete with spiked helmets. It's not clear how this custom began since goblins have never been to Earth (we hope). Equally confusing is how goblins could make such faithful replicas of these uniforms with the few resources available to them and their limited skill. But make them they do, and nearly half of all warriors wear them. The expressed reason is that the spiked helmets are so ridiculous that they simply have to wear them. An equal number of warrior goblins refuse to have anything to do with the uniforms, claiming that everything they do is already ridiculous.
A normal army would have officers and generals, but no one ever called goblins normal. While some goblins are smarter or more skilled than others, there are no real leaders among them. Warriors follow any goblin that can come up with a plan that promises to create chaos and amusement. If another goblin comes up with a better plan later on then the group will abandon their original mission in favor of the new one. It's not uncommon for a band of warriors to change plans and leaders five times in a week. The most extreme example of this was when eighty goblins started out on a mission to steal cheese, only to end up a month later stuffing a notorious evil wizard into a barrel of pickled herring and leaving him at the gate of a castle.
The average warrior is no stronger than his counterparts in other guilds. This is something of a problem, as an enthusiastic toddle can give most goblins a run for their money, while an adult can handle ten goblins and a competent soldier can fight twenty with an even chance of winning. It's little wonder why goblins lose so often. It doesn't help matters at all that warrior goblins are disorganized and suffer from poor morale, and like most goblins they're as dumb as rocks (and not the good kind of rocks, either.
Warriors have a variety of ways to overcome these disadvantages. The first is through overwhelming numbers. Goblins only fight when they can smother their enemies with waves of goblins. Ten-to-one is the lowest odds a goblin will take, while thirty-to-one is seen as a good bet. The largest odds yet known in a goblin conflict was 947 to one, which convinced Ted Salik to forever abandon selling insurance door-to-door.
Their second advantage is oddly enough in equipment. Goblins generally have poor quality weapons, favoring wooden clubs and shields that can be easily replaced if the goblin gets hungry and eats them (which happens more often than you're think). But some warriors have developed light siege weapons that have proven surprisingly effective. The best known of these are goblin catapults and slingshots.
Goblin catapults actually fire goblins wearing hand gliders. These have a long range and allow goblins to quickly place warriors in unexpected places. More than one battle has ended badly when twenty goblins soared out of the sky to land on an enemy general's head. The catapults can also be used to fire rocks or buckets or other materials, but the catapult crews are traditionalists and far prefer sending someone screaming through the air.
Goblin slingshots are three feet tall and don't have the range of catapults. But they are lighter, easier to build and easier to move than catapults, perfect for goblins on the move. The ammunition of choice is rickety buckets filled with goblin stew. Goblins love goblin stew, but all other sentient races consider the vile smelling concoction a crime against nature. Hurled buckets break on impact and splatter enemy troops with the noxious stuff, making them violently ill and producing astonishingly high laundry bills.
The last way goblins even the odds is with traps. Goblins of all guilds love traps and set them constantly, but warriors use these traps in battle. Given enough time they can create trap fields, regions filled with cleverly hidden traps that can disable dozens or even hundreds of enemies. Most of the victims recover quickly, only to take two steps and set off another trap. Warrior goblins use these traps to weaken and divide enemy forces, allowing them to take on the few enemies still standing at much better odds.
October 26, 2012
Why Goblins, by Arthur Daigle
So I finally got a book published and I choose goblins for most of the main characters. Not what you'd expect, I know. Fantasy novels typically deal with the adventures of knights, rangers, wizards, thieves and bards. These are the men who cut down hordes of enemies, save the kingdom and cart off obscene amounts of money that they never seem to pay taxes on. If there are any goblins involved they're sword fodder, a minor threat for the heroes to march over on their way to confronting the evil overlord responsible for everything wrong in the kingdom.
This works well for the heroes. Not so much for the goblins.
Face it, goblins have been pushovers in fantasy books and games for decades. The only way they pose any threat is if there are dozens or even hundreds of them, and even then they lose. Kind of like the Chicago Cubs that way, or France. It kind of makes you wonder why they charge headlong into those heavily armored knights and wizards throwing magic fire. As survival strategies go that ranks up there with lemmings jumping off cliffs.
So with a bit of thought and a lot of inspiration I wrote William Bradshaw, King of the Goblins. Yeah, Will is human, but I made sure that the goblins got their day too, and I think it's well deserved.
In my opinion the best stories are about the little guys. We're all kind of powerless against the big threats in life like wars, natural disasters and getting audited by the IRS. We can empathize with the little guy who's struggling just to keep his head above water. The best heroes take a beating, lose fights and run for their lives. We root for them because they face insurmountable odds and they keep going. There's little interest in a hero who is all powerful. After all, if you can't be beat then what's the point of fighting? We want to see the little guy win.
And you don't get much smaller than goblins.
Put yourself in their shoes for a minute. You're smaller and weaker than the humans, dwarves, and elves you're competing with. You live on low quality land without much in the way of natural resources, mainly because those knights and wizards kicked you off the good land years ago. You don't have the materials to build mighty magic weapons or impenetrable fortresses. Chances are you don't have any money either. There's not much point to having gold when there's no stores that will let you in the front door to spend it. And if you do have some cash it's a sure bet that someone's going to beat you up and take it, probably those knights. The same goes for having silks, jewelry, pantings, and other valuables. Chances are you can't make them yourself, and if you get acquire them then someone's going to take them from you at sword point.
Life for goblins is going to be a struggle, but it doesn't have to be a brutal one. I was inspired by other authors to give my goblins a sense of humor. Goblins are small, but like a lot of small guys they can get even by being clever and humiliating their enemies. They can set traps that throw cow manure at intruders. They can glue knights to their horses. They can paint the wizards blue while they sleep. They can win with style and humor, making their enemies look like dopes, and they can do it all while leaving the WW I style infantry charges off the agenda.
This works well for the heroes. Not so much for the goblins.
Face it, goblins have been pushovers in fantasy books and games for decades. The only way they pose any threat is if there are dozens or even hundreds of them, and even then they lose. Kind of like the Chicago Cubs that way, or France. It kind of makes you wonder why they charge headlong into those heavily armored knights and wizards throwing magic fire. As survival strategies go that ranks up there with lemmings jumping off cliffs.
So with a bit of thought and a lot of inspiration I wrote William Bradshaw, King of the Goblins. Yeah, Will is human, but I made sure that the goblins got their day too, and I think it's well deserved.
In my opinion the best stories are about the little guys. We're all kind of powerless against the big threats in life like wars, natural disasters and getting audited by the IRS. We can empathize with the little guy who's struggling just to keep his head above water. The best heroes take a beating, lose fights and run for their lives. We root for them because they face insurmountable odds and they keep going. There's little interest in a hero who is all powerful. After all, if you can't be beat then what's the point of fighting? We want to see the little guy win.
And you don't get much smaller than goblins.
Put yourself in their shoes for a minute. You're smaller and weaker than the humans, dwarves, and elves you're competing with. You live on low quality land without much in the way of natural resources, mainly because those knights and wizards kicked you off the good land years ago. You don't have the materials to build mighty magic weapons or impenetrable fortresses. Chances are you don't have any money either. There's not much point to having gold when there's no stores that will let you in the front door to spend it. And if you do have some cash it's a sure bet that someone's going to beat you up and take it, probably those knights. The same goes for having silks, jewelry, pantings, and other valuables. Chances are you can't make them yourself, and if you get acquire them then someone's going to take them from you at sword point.
Life for goblins is going to be a struggle, but it doesn't have to be a brutal one. I was inspired by other authors to give my goblins a sense of humor. Goblins are small, but like a lot of small guys they can get even by being clever and humiliating their enemies. They can set traps that throw cow manure at intruders. They can glue knights to their horses. They can paint the wizards blue while they sleep. They can win with style and humor, making their enemies look like dopes, and they can do it all while leaving the WW I style infantry charges off the agenda.
