More Mild Misadventures of Gunk the Goblin

[Gnostic Goblin]

More Mild Misadventures of Gunk the Goblin.

If you missed the previous episode, here is a recap:


Outside the Goblin Cave

Guard Goblin: Halt! Who goes there? You know the rules—no cave for hillside riffraff!

Hillside Goblin: It’s me, Gunk! I came to warn you lot—there’s a band of adventurers on their way to slaughter every goblin in this cave! You’ve gotta let me in!

Guard Goblin: Oh, sure, Gunk. Just like last week when you said the cave was haunted, and it turned out to be you under a sheet moaning, “OoOoOo, I’m the Goblin King”?

Hillside Goblin: That was funny, though. C’mon, Glint, I’m serious this time!

Guard Goblin: Serious? Like the time you swore there was gold in the stream, and when we checked, it was just a pile of yellow pebbles you painted?

Hillside Goblin: They looked convincing in the sunlight!

Guard Goblin: Or that “magic wand” you sold to Snork, which turned out to be a stick covered in glitter?

Hillside Goblin: Snork still can’t get over that sparkle curse. Look, this is different—adventurers are real! They’ve got swords and fireballs and—one of them’s got a book! You know nothing good comes from a book!

Guard Goblin: Nice try. Next you’ll tell me they’ve got a wizard who’s allergic to goblins but came anyway out of pure spite.

Hillside Goblin: THEY DO! How did you know that?! He sneezed and vaporized a tree on the way up here!

Guard Goblin: Uh-huh. And I suppose they’re riding a dragon that just happened to stop for tea in the valley?

Hillside Goblin: No, just a giant bear—wait, do you hear growling?

Guard Goblin: You’re not fooling me, Gunk. Go back to your hill and—hey, what’s that shadow?

Hillside Goblin: Oh, no! It’s the bear! I told you! RUN!

Guard Goblin: …Why is it holding a teacup?!

(Chaos ensues as the adventurers and their tea-loving bear charge the cave, and Gunk smirks in the background, muttering, “Told ya.”)

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

He Warned ‘Em


The tree wasn’t comfortable, but it was safe. Well, safer. Gunk clung to the highest branch that would hold him, peering through the leaves as the chaos erupted in the goblin cave below.

“Ha! I warned ’em,” he muttered to himself, ducking slightly as a fireball whooshed out of the cave entrance. The light from the blast lit up the forest around him, and he could just make out the forms of adventurers charging in. There was the wizard—his sneeze echoed even louder than his spells—and the bear, which was somehow even bigger in person and still clutching that ridiculous teacup.

“Adventurers and tea? What kind of world is this?” Gunk muttered. He watched the bear swat away a goblin, who went flying into a nearby tree like a sack of turnips. “Oof. Sorry, Grinkle. You deserved better.”

Inside the cave, he could hear the clanging of swords, the screech of goblins, and an alarming number of shouts like, “WHO LEFT THESE MARBLES EVERYWHERE?” That’d be Tunk’s idea of defense. Typical cave goblins, always thinking too small.

The wizard sneezed again, and a blast of magic made the ground quake. A moment later, Glint the guard came scrambling out of the cave, his helmet on backward, yelling, “Gunk! GUNK! You were right! Help us!”

Gunk crossed his arms. “Oh, NOW I’m worth listening to? Didn’t seem to matter when I was warning you about certain doom!”

Glint tripped on a root and sprawled face-first into the dirt. He popped up again, sputtering, “You could’ve tried harder to convince us!”

“I was very convincing!” Gunk shouted. “You’re just a terrible listener!”

Another fireball exploded, and Gunk felt the heat even up in his tree. He glanced back at the cave entrance, where the adventurers were driving goblins deeper inside like frightened bats. The bear roared and charged in after them, splintering the main support beam with one swing of its paw.

The cave groaned ominously.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Gunk muttered, shifting uncomfortably as a large chunk of rock tumbled from the entrance. He could already hear the goblins inside panicking, yelling things like, “Save the mushrooms!” and “This is all Gunk’s fault!”

The whole cave was caving in. Gunk winced as a plume of dust erupted, the adventurers and goblins alike scrambling out just before the entire entrance collapsed.

“Well,” Gunk said, watching as Glint stumbled toward him, covered in dirt and mushroom bits. “Looks like you’re all hillside goblins now.”

Glint scowled up at him. “You could’ve warned us the cave would collapse too!”

Gunk leaned back against the tree trunk, grinning. “Guess I just wasn’t convincing enough.”


To be continued…

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

Spoons


The surviving goblins, dusty, battered, and thoroughly demoralized, gathered in a ragged group on a rocky outcrop above the wreckage of their former home. They watched as the adventurers marched triumphantly down the hillside, their bear companion plodding along behind them, now carrying what looked suspiciously like a sack of stolen goblin loot.

“Unbelievable,” muttered Glint, slumped against a boulder with his helmet still on backward. “They didn’t even need the bear. That thing was just overkill.”

“I told you it was overkill!” Gunk piped up from where he sat cross-legged on a fallen log, smirking smugly. “But noooo, Gunk’s just the ‘lying hillside goblin.’ Can’t trust a word outta his mouth!”

The other goblins glared at him, though they were too tired to argue.

“They took everything,” moaned Grinkle, who was nursing a bruised arm and cradling a single, slightly squished mushroom. “The shiny rocks, the mushroom barrels, the cursed spoon collection…”

“Oh, come on,” Gunk said, rolling his eyes. “The spoon collection cursed us more than anyone else. You should be thanking them for taking it.”

Grinkle sniffled. “But I liked the spoons.”

As the adventurers grew smaller in the distance, the goblins’ grumbling turned into murmured complaints.

“What’re we supposed to do now?” someone muttered. “The cave’s gone.”

“And all our stuff!”

“And the mushrooms!”

“You’ve got the whole hillside!” Gunk said brightly, throwing his arms wide. “Plenty of trees, rocks, nice open skies—fresh start for all you former cave-dwellers.”

The goblins turned to glare at him again, and Glint stood, wincing as he brushed dirt off his armor. “You think this is funny, Gunk? If you hadn’t been such a troublemaker, we’d never have kicked you out, and maybe we’d have taken you seriously for once.”

“If you’d listened to me for once, we might still have a cave!” Gunk shot back, standing up on his log. “But nooo, I’m the bad guy for thinking ahead.”

Glint growled, pointing an accusing finger. “You’re not the bad guy. You’re the annoying guy!”

“Better to be annoying than flattened under a bear!” Gunk retorted. “Besides, I saved you all in my own roundabout way!”

“Saved us?” screeched Grinkle. “We’re homeless and broke!”

“And alive!” Gunk yelled, arms flailing. “You’re welcome!”

The goblins grumbled and muttered, but no one had the energy to argue anymore. They sat in sullen silence as the adventurers finally disappeared into the trees below.

“Well,” said Gunk after a long pause, “if it makes you feel any better, they didn’t take everything.”

“What’re you talking about?” Glint asked suspiciously.

Gunk grinned and pulled a sack out from behind his log. “While you lot were busy getting flattened and fireballed, I snagged some stuff from the supply nook. Look! Mushrooms! Some shiny rocks! And… uh… one spoon.”

The goblins’ eyes widened as they crowded around the sack.

“Gunk,” Glint said slowly, “you might be the most annoying goblin alive…”

“…but we’ll take it,” finished Grinkle, snatching the mushroom.

Gunk smirked as they rifled through the sack, muttering among themselves. “See? Stick with me, and we’ll rebuild. Hillside goblins! New name, new beginnings. Maybe even a new cave someday!”

“Don’t push your luck,” Glint muttered, but Gunk could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

Above them, the sun was setting over the hillside, and the goblins settled in to regroup, a little battered but still standing. For now, that was enough.


To Be Continued…

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

Junk

The adventurers trudged down the hillside, their armor clinking and boots crunching over loose rocks. The wizard sneezed loudly, nearly toppling over under the weight of his spellbook.

“For the love of the gods, Merrick,” said the fighter, a burly woman with a scar running down her cheek. “How many times are you going to sneeze today? You’re worse than the bear.”

“Not my fault!” Merrick said indignantly, adjusting his crooked glasses. “The goblins reeked of mold and… I don’t even know what else. Do they roll in swamp muck for fun?”

“Probably,” the rogue said with a smirk, flipping a shiny dagger between his fingers. “But hey, it’s a small price to pay for this haul. I mean, look at this stuff! I didn’t know goblins had a taste for fine silverware.”

Behind him, the bear lumbered along, the enormous sack of loot slung over its back. Every now and then, it glanced at the rogue as if contemplating whether to eat him.

“Goblins don’t have a taste for it,” the fighter said. “They steal it from travelers. We’re just… repossessing it.”

The rogue shrugged. “Loot’s loot.”

The cleric, walking a few paces behind the group, cleared her throat. “We’re losing focus. Shouldn’t we be talking about what we actually accomplished here? The goblin problem is dealt with, for now. But did anyone else think it was weird how quickly we found that cave?”

“Not weird,” Merrick said, adjusting his hat. “We had help. That goblin, what was his name? Skunk? Junk?”

“Gunk,” said the fighter. “Yeah, that was suspiciously easy. He gave us the exact location, told us about their defenses. If you can call marbles and sticks defenses. And then just… disappeared.”

The rogue snorted. “I told you, he probably ran off to loot the cave while we were fighting. Goblins are greedy little bastards.”

“Or,” said the cleric, narrowing her eyes, “he used us to wipe out his rivals. What if he wanted the cave for himself?”

The group fell silent, considering this. Even the bear looked contemplative, though that might have just been the sunlight hitting its teacup.

“Well,” the fighter said after a moment, “if that’s the case, I hope he enjoys it. Because we left that cave in shambles. Did you see how it collapsed? There’s no way anyone’s moving back in.”

“Maybe,” said the rogue. “But goblins are crafty. If Gunk survived, he’ll come up with something.”

Merrick sneezed again, startling the bear. “He’d better not. If I have to smell another goblin-infested hole in the ground, I’m going to lose it.”

The cleric sighed. “Either way, we should keep an eye out. If Gunk’s still alive, he might come looking for us. You know how goblins are with grudges.”

The rogue chuckled. “You’re worried about a single goblin with no cave, no weapons, and no loot? I think we’ll be fine.”

As they disappeared into the trees, none of them noticed the small figure perched on a distant rock, watching them with a toothy grin.

“Come looking for you?” Gunk muttered to himself, clutching his sack of scavenged loot. “Nah. You’ll be back soon enough. And when you are…” He glanced over at the ragged group of goblins behind him, already bickering over the single spoon.

“…we’ll be ready.”



To Be Continued…

 

[jdrakeh]

I just wanted to say that, while I'm often not a fan of story hour posts, I do love goblins and this is a lot of fun.

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

Thanks so much! Okay jdrakeh I will keep writing it, and thats entirely thanks to you!

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

This Cave Smells Like Troll

The goblins cheered as they stumbled into their discovery. The cave was enormous, spacious, and best of all, free from marbles.

“Light!” cried Grinkle, running in circles. “It has light! Look at this!”

“Air!” added Tunk, sticking his head into a shaft of sunlight and promptly sneezing. “Proper air, not mushroom fog!”

Gunk walked further into the cave, squinting. “And… stuff.”

The goblins froze. The “stuff” in question was definitely not theirs: a massive cauldron suspended over a soot-blackened fire pit, a pile of bones, and a suspiciously shabby cage big enough to hold three goblins (stacked vertically).

Grinkle poked the cauldron. “You think this is, like, free stuff?”

Tunk sniffed the air. “It smells bad.”

“That’s not bad,” Gunk said, his eyes darting around the cave. “That’s troll.”

“What?!” shrieked Grinkle, jumping back. “You mean…”

The cave shook as heavy, uneven footsteps echoed down the tunnel. A shadow fell across the goblins as a troll emerged into view, stooping to squeeze its enormous frame into the entrance.

Its warty skin was greenish-brown, its greasy, matted hair hung in clumps, and its sharp, yellowed teeth clicked together as it sniffed the air. “What is in my cave?” it rumbled.

The goblins panicked immediately.

“Oh no, not again!” yelled Tunk, diving behind the cauldron.

“It was Gunk’s idea!” screamed Grinkle, pointing at their leader.

Gunk grinned nervously, raising his hands. “Now, now, uh, Mister Troll, let’s not get hasty. We were just admiring your, uh, beautiful décor.”

The troll roared, its gangly arms swinging as it lunged toward them.


To Be Continued…

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

A Troll Problem

By some miracle, or, more likely, Gunk shoving them in the troll’s way, the goblins escaped. They regrouped just outside the cave, gasping for air and glaring at Gunk.

“You said it was empty!” Tunk accused.

“I thought it was empty!” Gunk retorted. “How was I supposed to know it had a troll?!”

“Because it smelled like troll!” Grinkle shrieked. “You literally said it smelled like troll!”

Gunk threw up his hands. “Fine! So it smells like troll and there’s a troll. What do we do now? We can’t go back to the old cave, we can’t stay out here, and we can’t fight it ourselves!”

“Maybe we could fight it,” muttered Tunk.

“With what? Mean looks and insults?” Gunk shot back. “No, no, no. What we need is someone big, mean, and stupid enough to do it for us. Adventurers!”

Grinkle recoiled in horror. “The humans?! We’d have to go to the human town!”

“It’s that or sleep in the forest,” Gunk said, gesturing to the dark line of trees.

The goblins shivered. “But the forest has forest goblins,” Tunk whispered.

“You ever met a forest goblin?” Grinkle asked in hushed tones. “They’re wild! Dangerous! They’ll steal your mushrooms and….”

The conversation was cut short by a roar.

The troll had returned, stomping out of the cave and squinting at them. “Did I say you could leave?”

The goblins scattered, but the troll was faster. With gangly arms swinging, it grabbed Tunk and Grinkle, shoving them into the shabby cage with a triumphant grunt.

Gunk, to his credit, was halfway down the hillside before he even registered the screaming.



To Be Continued…

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

Gunk and the No-Good, Very Creepy Forest

Gunk ran until the troll’s roars were distant and his lungs were burning. The sun was setting now, casting the forest in shadow. He looked around, realizing for the first time where he was.

“Oh no,” he muttered. “Not the forest.”

The air was thick with the hum of insects, the rustle of unseen creatures, and the occasional, distant howl. Gunk swore he saw a pair of glowing eyes blink at him from the underbrush.

“Stay calm, Gunk,” he whispered, stumbling into a hollow log. “You’re just regrouping. Yeah, regrouping. This is strategy!”

He cowered in the log as the forest came alive with unsettling noises: hoots, screeches, and something that sounded like a laugh but wasn’t.

By the time morning came, Gunk was bleary-eyed and jittery, having been woken up at least a dozen times by strange sounds.

“Never again,” he muttered. “Never the forest again.”

Dragging himself out of the log, he squinted up at a nearby tree. “Alright, let’s see where we are.”

Climbing up, Gunk scanned the horizon. To his relief, he spotted the human settlement just beyond the edge of the forest. He also noticed his reflection in a puddle on a branch: mud-covered, twig-filled, and wild-eyed. He looked more forest goblin than hillside goblin now.

“Well, this won’t end badly,” he muttered, shimmying back down. Dusting himself off and somehow making himself dirtier in the process. Gunk headed toward the human settlement.

He glanced back at the forest one last time. Somewhere in the distance, the troll’s roar echoed faintly.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered, smirking despite himself. “I’ll get you evicted soon enough.”


To Be Continued…

 

[Gnostic Goblin]

Troll Tales and Tarnished Trust

The Grog’n’Ards Tavern was alive with the clamour of adventurers, townsfolk, and the unmistakable twang of Ard the Bard’s lute. Despite his advancing years, Ard’s fingers still danced across the strings like a younger man’s. His voice, however, had all the warmth of an irate crow.

“Spoons!” Ard barked, pointing a gnarled finger at the adventuring party huddled around a table. “Did you lot know the spoons you sold me were cursed?”

The rogue, lounging with his feet on the table, waved a dismissive hand. “Cursed? Please. They were goblin spoons. What did you expect? Class?”

“I expected them not to turn into snakes halfway through a stew!” Ard retorted.

The fighter crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “We didn’t know. Honest. The goblins were, let’s say, less than forthcoming about their tableware.”

Merrick, the wizard, adjusted his glasses nervously. “And to be fair, Ard, the snakes weren’t venomous.”

“Not the point!” Ard snapped. “This is a tavern, not an impromptu snake pit!”

From a nearby table, a grizzled man chimed in, raising his tankard. “That’s what you get for trusting goblins! Everyone knows you can’t trust a goblin!”

At that moment, a voice slithered into the conversation. “Ahem. I resent that.”

The party turned as one, spotting the small, mud-caked figure emerging from the shadows near the hearth. Gunk stood proudly, or as proudly as one can while still resembling a bundle of moss with teeth.

“You can’t trust hill goblins,” Gunk clarified, brushing twigs from his tattered tunic. “But forest goblins? Completely different story. We’re the good kind of goblin.”

The rogue burst out laughing, slapping the table. “Good goblins? That’s a first.”

The fighter tilted her head, eyeing Gunk with suspicion. “Forest goblin, huh? What’s a forest goblin doing lurking in a tavern?”

“Simple,” Gunk said, puffing out his chest. “I’ve got information. Valuable information. Dangerous information. The kind of information that saves villages. And because I’m so trustworthy, I’ll share it. For free.”

Ard snorted. “If a goblin’s offering something for free, it’s because they’ve already picked your pocket.”

“I have not picked anyone’s pocket!” Gunk protested, stepping closer to the adventurers. “I have, however, overheard a certain troll planning a certain attack on this very village. And as the only goblin around brave enough to warn you…”

The adventurers exchanged glances.

“Why would a troll care about attacking a village?” Merrick asked.

“Because he’s a troll!” Gunk exclaimed. “Big, mean, ugly, smelly. He doesn’t need a reason! He’s up there right now, in his cave at the top of the forest, sharpening his teeth and muttering about squishing humans. Do you want to risk it?”

“Do we believe him?” the fighter muttered to the group.

The rogue shrugged. “Goblins lie. But trolls do smash things.”

“I think we should listen,” the cleric said, in a low, growly voice. The others looked at the massive black bear sitting at the table.

“You’re only saying that because you are a bear,” Merrick said, wincing.

“I’m still a cleric!” the bear snapped. “And I know what it’s like to be unfairly judged based on appearances.”

“You did eat a honey cake that wasn’t yours yesterday,” Merrick pointed out.

“That was a personal struggle,” the bear muttered.

The fighter rubbed her temples. “Fine. If there’s even a chance this troll’s a threat, we’ll deal with it. But you,” she jabbed a finger at Gunk “are coming with us.”

“Me?!” Gunk yelped. “Oh no, you misunderstand. I was simply…”

“Showing us the way,” the fighter interrupted.

Merrick smirked. “Unless you’re lying about the troll.”

Gunk gulped, his grin faltering. “Lying? Me? Perish the thought! No, no, I’ll… I’ll lead you right to him. You’ll see!”

As the party gathered their weapons, Gunk adjusted the twig in his hair, trying to look “forest goblin chic.” As they walked out of the tavern into the crisp morning air, Ard called after them:

“If you survive, bring back something not cursed this time!”

Gunk trudged ahead of the group, muttering under his breath. “Trustworthy, huh? This is why I should’ve just stayed in the forest.”


To Be Continued…