Surprise

The Great Goblin Road Trip

Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash

Welcome to the Great Goblin Road Trip, in which traveling goblins Lurgis Forks, Khorlax the Florginator, and Charles are on the road in search of a ruby the size of a canary melon. When we last saw them, our heroes main characters had been chased out of an elven restaurant by Bernard the were-bear hotel manager. We rejoin them on the road again the next morning, not in the best of moods…

“‘Been thinkin’,” Khorlax the Florginator said.

“Huh,” Lurgis Forks said. “And here I was thinking you let Florg do your thinking for you.”

“And why shouldn’t she?” Khorlax roared. “Ain’t she the best of battle-axes?”

Lurgis Forks laughed in a very nasty sort of way. “Maybe, but as that goes, it’s not so much to make a fuss over, is it?”

In the front of the van, Charles groaned. He could feel it coming. They were going to fight, and he would have to make peace between them, and they would keep on repeating the same blasted cycle all the way down the interstate west until, if ever, they found their prize. Well, one had to put up with these things if one wanted to track down a ruby the size of a canary melon-

Quite out of nowhere the road exploded, tossing the van aside like a small goblin’s plaything. It flipped over and rolled a few times, and then came to rest on the side of the road, wreathed in flame.

Khorlax the Florginator emerged from the wreckage, coughing raggedly. It wasn’t as impressive as his battle roar, but then he had been caught by surprise. “What in the Boggle-” The goblin looked wildly around. He couldn’t hear anything except his own heart thumping a muffled quickstep in his ears “Charles? Lurgis?” he roared.

Then he spun back towards the burning van. “Florg!”

“Afraid she’s ashes by now,” a cool voice said. “I’d say sorry, but I’m really not.”

Khorlax turned, not even noticing the red dots appearing on his chest. He tried to make out the shadowy figure standing framing in the pouring sunlight. “Who the-”

“You know, humans aren’t so bad as you’d think,” the figure said. “They have the most remarkable facility for creating and improving weaponry. I know the lore says it was all you, but honestly, something like an improvised explosive device, that’s far beyond you lot. No, only human ingenuity could do that. I almost envy it.”

Khorlax stared. Was that an elf? He took a step forward, ready and very eager to find out, but a sharp bang interrupted him. Something fast, he didn’t see what, chipped off a rock very near - very near- his left boot.

“I’ll answer your questions in a moment, I’m sure you have many,” the figure said, “But first, what that was just now was a high-powered rifle. My subordinates are instructed to deploy the bazooka next. Marvelous invention, that. Wonderful capability for destruction, a capability you, unfortunately, will be too incinerated to appreciate unless you do exactly what I say. Have you got that?”

Khorlax, very slowly, nodded.

“Not good enough. I need you to say it. Do you understand me, goblin?”

In any other circumstance, with Florg in his hand, he would have reacted very badly and violently to anyone, especially someone he suspected to be an elf, calling him goblin in that way. As it was, he snarled out a word that was as close to “yes” as he could manage.

“Good. And by the way, just so you know, I am an elf. Not really the kind you’re familiar with, I suspect.”

He stalked forward, and Khorlax saw the pointed ears sure enough, and as he drew closer the goblin’s hand moved in a furious blow like the crack of thunder except- the elf blocked it. No, he redirected it, smoothly turning the force of Khorlax’s arm aside and then knocking the goblin down with one precise counter-blow. “I’m a Dark Elf,” he said, as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. “Incidentally, did you really think you were the only ones looking for the ruby?”

This story was inspired by

Scoot

‘s Flash Fiction Friday prompt post, below:

FFF - Echo

Thanks for reading!