Goblin Heroes III
A hero’s life is exciting, dangerous and often short. It is also rare for heroes to receive just compensation for the risks they take. Kings often don’t have the money to cover their own bills, much less pay someone for saving them, and the few who are rich enough seldom want to part with their gold. This makes heroes rare among any race, more so among goblins. But every so often some poor goblin gets labeled a hero, and to his eternal shame it sticks.
Honest Al
Honesty is not a common trait among goblins. Their best bet when in danger is to lie like a cheap rug when caught and hope someone believes them. But Al was a champion liar even among goblins. The small builder goblin could spin lies so believable that men would rush off in search of imaginary gold or to flee enemies that never existed. Al loved a good lie and knew hundreds of stories guaranteed to fool the greedy and gullible.
But Al’s lies caught up with him one day when he came upon an old gypsy woman riding a wagon. They met at a crossroad, one way leading to a city and the other into a swamp. The gypsy asked which way led to the city. Predictably, Al directed her to the swamp instead. He got a good laugh out of that, and was surprised when the gypsy caught up with him a week later. She’d gotten her wagon stuck and needed a day to get it out. Angry, she cursed Al that he had to tell the truth.
Al assumed she was bluffing, but he learned otherwise later that day. He met some prospectors he’d lied to a few weeks earlier, and to his amazement he admitted to them there was no gold within fifty miles of where he’d sent them. Al barely escaped the enraged prospectors and fled to the company of his fellow goblins. He didn’t want to tell them what happened, but again he found himself unable to lie. Worse, he was actually compelled to tell the truth at all times, even volunteering information.
This was a disaster! The other goblins did what they could to console Al, but to no avail. Al saw his future where he would literally not be able to lie even to save his own life, much less to annoy people. He despaired of ever having fun again. Even worse, if he had to tell the truth then all his old lies would come back to haunt him, and he’d told a lot of lies! There was the ‘fun with tar’ game he’d promoted, the ‘dig for gold in your bathroom’ trend he started, and who could forget the ‘ragweed as an aphrodisiac’ ad he’d placed in newspapers. Inconsolable, Al wandered off into a human settlement.
The humans were in an uproar over tax increases ordered by their mayor. The mayor said that their king was levying the taxes, so there was nothing to do but pay. Al heard this and told the crowd of humans it was a lie. The neighboring towns weren’t paying this tax, and it was far more likely that the money was to cover the mayor’s loans to a banker. The townspeople didn’t believe Al. He was a goblin, after all, a race known for lying. But a few men visited the neighboring towns where they leaned the truth. This resulted in the mayor’s swift removal from office, and subsequent tarring and feathering (which was pretty mild compared to what the bankers did to him).
Al was stunned. He’d done a lot of damage simply by telling the truth. No goblin had ever done that before. Excited and hopeful once more, he went back to his fellow goblins and told them what happened. He proposed they could really annoy people by being honest instead of lying, an idea so radical few goblins would accept it. But Al did recruit a handful of goblins, and together they went forth to spread mayhem by being honest.
The plan was simple. Al and his fellow goblins would move into a town and spend a few weeks observing it from the shadows. They would learn all the townspeople’s secrets, and once they had collected evidence they would print up fliers detailing the wrongdoers in town. They would then paste the fliers to every flat surface they could find.
It worked like a charm. They told people who’d been lying to them, cheating them, even betraying them. The goblins got people arrested, evicted, chased out of town, and a city alderman got a severe wedgie. Inevitably the locals would find out that the goblins were responsible and drive them off, mostly because they were afraid their own secrets would be revealed. This didn’t bother the goblins. They simply moved on to the next town and started from scratch.
Then one day Al and his fellow goblins came to a frontier town plagued by the Ravager Bandits. The gang was known for their ferocity and for stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down (word was they were looking for crowbars to correct this oversight). The townspeople were worried, but there was a glimmer of hope. The Guild of Heroes had teamed up with the Brotherhood of the Righteous to deal with the problem. The two organizations had sent a hundred of their best warriors, paladins, wizards and holy men to stop the bandits. Their plan was to go out into the wilderness pretending to be a merchant caravan and then surprise the Ravagers.
When Al learned this, he was in a quandary. The Ravagers were an evil so great none could ignore it. But the Guild of Heroes and the Brotherhood of the Righteous were going to lie. The gypsy curse meant that Al had to tell the truth, even when doing to would cause harm. What was he to do? If he told the truth the bandits would avoid the trap. Almost as bad, the Ravagers might not even know about the phony caravan and miss it by accident. Either way, they’d go on to hurt others.
Just then a fellow goblin asked Al if they were going to post their fliers the next day. Al said no, but then realized he’d found his answer. He had been honest when he said they weren’t putting up the fliers the next day, but he hadn’t said when they were going to do it. It was a slight omission that worked around the curse he was under.
Excited all over again, Al went to observed the assembled heroes and paladins. He watched the men, looking for a way he could shade the truth to fulfill the curses’ demands. The Guild and Brotherhood came loaded for bear, and every man was equipped with the best weapons money could buy. Many of them had magic weapons. Al had been in enough cities to know that weapons and armor were expensive, and magic ones doubly so.
Al saw his opening. He hurried back to his goblins followers and told them to prepare their fliers. The message was that people were going to leave town soon with a fortune in goods, easily worth 30,000 gold coins. The gypsy curse did not stop Al from sending out this message, for it was true. The weapons, armor and magic the heroes were using was worth what he said, maybe more. Al then ordered his followers to post the fliers far from town. Sure enough, the Ravager bandits found a few fliers and took them to their base. When the phony caravan headed out the next day, the Ravagers were ready for it and attacked with their entire force. It was a rout of epic proportions, and the Ravagers were no longer a threat.
Honest Al
Honesty is not a common trait among goblins. Their best bet when in danger is to lie like a cheap rug when caught and hope someone believes them. But Al was a champion liar even among goblins. The small builder goblin could spin lies so believable that men would rush off in search of imaginary gold or to flee enemies that never existed. Al loved a good lie and knew hundreds of stories guaranteed to fool the greedy and gullible.
But Al’s lies caught up with him one day when he came upon an old gypsy woman riding a wagon. They met at a crossroad, one way leading to a city and the other into a swamp. The gypsy asked which way led to the city. Predictably, Al directed her to the swamp instead. He got a good laugh out of that, and was surprised when the gypsy caught up with him a week later. She’d gotten her wagon stuck and needed a day to get it out. Angry, she cursed Al that he had to tell the truth.
Al assumed she was bluffing, but he learned otherwise later that day. He met some prospectors he’d lied to a few weeks earlier, and to his amazement he admitted to them there was no gold within fifty miles of where he’d sent them. Al barely escaped the enraged prospectors and fled to the company of his fellow goblins. He didn’t want to tell them what happened, but again he found himself unable to lie. Worse, he was actually compelled to tell the truth at all times, even volunteering information.
This was a disaster! The other goblins did what they could to console Al, but to no avail. Al saw his future where he would literally not be able to lie even to save his own life, much less to annoy people. He despaired of ever having fun again. Even worse, if he had to tell the truth then all his old lies would come back to haunt him, and he’d told a lot of lies! There was the ‘fun with tar’ game he’d promoted, the ‘dig for gold in your bathroom’ trend he started, and who could forget the ‘ragweed as an aphrodisiac’ ad he’d placed in newspapers. Inconsolable, Al wandered off into a human settlement.
The humans were in an uproar over tax increases ordered by their mayor. The mayor said that their king was levying the taxes, so there was nothing to do but pay. Al heard this and told the crowd of humans it was a lie. The neighboring towns weren’t paying this tax, and it was far more likely that the money was to cover the mayor’s loans to a banker. The townspeople didn’t believe Al. He was a goblin, after all, a race known for lying. But a few men visited the neighboring towns where they leaned the truth. This resulted in the mayor’s swift removal from office, and subsequent tarring and feathering (which was pretty mild compared to what the bankers did to him).
Al was stunned. He’d done a lot of damage simply by telling the truth. No goblin had ever done that before. Excited and hopeful once more, he went back to his fellow goblins and told them what happened. He proposed they could really annoy people by being honest instead of lying, an idea so radical few goblins would accept it. But Al did recruit a handful of goblins, and together they went forth to spread mayhem by being honest.
The plan was simple. Al and his fellow goblins would move into a town and spend a few weeks observing it from the shadows. They would learn all the townspeople’s secrets, and once they had collected evidence they would print up fliers detailing the wrongdoers in town. They would then paste the fliers to every flat surface they could find.
It worked like a charm. They told people who’d been lying to them, cheating them, even betraying them. The goblins got people arrested, evicted, chased out of town, and a city alderman got a severe wedgie. Inevitably the locals would find out that the goblins were responsible and drive them off, mostly because they were afraid their own secrets would be revealed. This didn’t bother the goblins. They simply moved on to the next town and started from scratch.
Then one day Al and his fellow goblins came to a frontier town plagued by the Ravager Bandits. The gang was known for their ferocity and for stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down (word was they were looking for crowbars to correct this oversight). The townspeople were worried, but there was a glimmer of hope. The Guild of Heroes had teamed up with the Brotherhood of the Righteous to deal with the problem. The two organizations had sent a hundred of their best warriors, paladins, wizards and holy men to stop the bandits. Their plan was to go out into the wilderness pretending to be a merchant caravan and then surprise the Ravagers.
When Al learned this, he was in a quandary. The Ravagers were an evil so great none could ignore it. But the Guild of Heroes and the Brotherhood of the Righteous were going to lie. The gypsy curse meant that Al had to tell the truth, even when doing to would cause harm. What was he to do? If he told the truth the bandits would avoid the trap. Almost as bad, the Ravagers might not even know about the phony caravan and miss it by accident. Either way, they’d go on to hurt others.
Just then a fellow goblin asked Al if they were going to post their fliers the next day. Al said no, but then realized he’d found his answer. He had been honest when he said they weren’t putting up the fliers the next day, but he hadn’t said when they were going to do it. It was a slight omission that worked around the curse he was under.
Excited all over again, Al went to observed the assembled heroes and paladins. He watched the men, looking for a way he could shade the truth to fulfill the curses’ demands. The Guild and Brotherhood came loaded for bear, and every man was equipped with the best weapons money could buy. Many of them had magic weapons. Al had been in enough cities to know that weapons and armor were expensive, and magic ones doubly so.
Al saw his opening. He hurried back to his goblins followers and told them to prepare their fliers. The message was that people were going to leave town soon with a fortune in goods, easily worth 30,000 gold coins. The gypsy curse did not stop Al from sending out this message, for it was true. The weapons, armor and magic the heroes were using was worth what he said, maybe more. Al then ordered his followers to post the fliers far from town. Sure enough, the Ravager bandits found a few fliers and took them to their base. When the phony caravan headed out the next day, the Ravagers were ready for it and attacked with their entire force. It was a rout of epic proportions, and the Ravagers were no longer a threat.
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