Spoils of War
“Har,” Bolgur the Unhappy said. True to his name, he wasn’t particularly satisfied with the outcome of this particular battle. He and his mighty goblin horde had just sacked the elven fortress of Fer-something-or-other (he couldn’t pronounce it and didn’t care), and for what? A lot of stinking trees? He didn’t want trees. He wanted gold. Jewels, maybe, rubies and all. This place was sadly lacking in any of it, and Bolgur wanted to know why.
“Are y’ sure?” he demanded of his chief lieutenant, Turghole.
“Aye,” Turghole said. “Not a coin. Not a ruby. Not nothin’. Got a shovel, though. Found it in a back room.” He held it up for his leader’s attention. “Blade’s some kinda new metal or somethin’, ain’t seen it before. Broke two swords on it.”
Bolgur sighed. “Har. Well, if it’s a shovel we got, then might as well make use of it. Take it to the forgers, see if they can-”
A sudden almighty crash split the air above him. Every goblin in and around the fortress looked up, including Bolgur. “What in the name o’ the great Boggle-”
“Not the great Boggle,” came a voice from the clouds. “Me.”
A bolt of white-cold light shot down out of the sky, and out of it strode a a tall woman whose eyes shone with fury. She wrenched the shovel from Turghole’s grip and whirled it about her head. “I am Thrud, daughter of Thor god of thunder! I wield the shovel Mlrning, gift of power!”
Bolgur glared, not at her, but at Turghole. “You stupid- of all the things you had to go and loot you had to pick the shovel of-”
A blast of light froze him solid in ice before he could finish. If Bolgur had been unhappy, it turned out Thrud (daughter of Thor!) was even more so.
Inspired by
‘s Flash Fiction Friday: