Crags Backstory

The Raid

     Crag, a goblin at the bright young age of four, was being dragged along by his mother on a walk (which felt more like a stampede) down a long dirt trail. His mom, Sifs, had always cared for him, to the required amount, but had never shown true affection to him since his father's passing. Most goblins in their small camp, led by someone who broke off from a larger camp not too long ago, think she blames him for his father's death.

He watched the trees pass by as he ran, his little legs going as fast as they could. He felt the bandages he had wrapped around the soles of his feet, to keep them from bleeding or getting hurt badly, catching on the rough rocks and ground beneath him. There were about 24 goblins, none going over the height of 4 feet.

He held his small club tightly, turning his head to his mom. "When will we be there? My feet hurt." She turned and glared at him for complaining. For all they knew this would be his life, he would have to toughen up. She just turned her head back without answering.

His anxiety started to settle in a bit. What if the people in the house were home? How would they even know? Did they even have a plan? He shuddered a bit, feeling his breathing get heavier. He looked forwards and felt himself calm, when he saw an empty elven hut, maybe 400 feet away. He sped up to get there quicker.

As the group (hoard) neared, his mother grabbed his arm, slowing him down significantly.

"Grab as much as you can. You are small, but you can carry enough."

She let go, pushing him forwards towards the house. They had been near the front, meaning they would have first pick. He walked in, cautious, and began to try opening doors.

He was scared to break one down, so he tried to push them open. After trying 2 doors, one finally opened. He heard crashing behind him, and quickly ran in, slamming the door. The goblins paid no attention, destroying to doors next to him and ransacking the upstairs. What they lacked in height they definitely made up for in brutality. With caution he stepped towards the desk, recognizing very little. The things that stood out to him were the sketches strewn carelessly on the large oak desk.

Crag picked one up, studying it. It read, next to an impressive drawing of a muscular, bearded tall guy, "Zeus" which he recognized right away. He looked through more sketches, seeing many different holy symbols and names of gods. He saw one that stood out to him the most, a large drawing of a road that seemed to be traveling into a sunrise. At the bottom of the page he saw the name "Lathander." His eyes widened, stuffing the sketch in his large satchel. He felt he needed it with him, like it was calling him to take it. He also made sure to grab some of the shiny rocks, honestly anything that looked valuable he grabbed, to cover up the sketch.

He moved to the bookshelf on the wall, wiping sweat off of his olive green forehead. Why was he so nervous? He knew right away; because goblins weren't supposed to find interest in religion. In helping others, giving to the poor, that kind of deal. But he wanted to know more, to understand, no, live the life of someone who was righteous. Like a calling.

He read quickly, finding a book that said, "Lathander, god of sun and healing." He smiled, but shook his head to clear his face. He grabbed the book and buried it under all the trinkets he grabbed. He made sure to grab one or two more, scared of being caught.

He ran, after hearing the leader of the group (hoard), back out of the office, down the now darkened hall, and out the front door. He panted, going to his mother. The group immediately started running home, this time he was falling behind, in the back with the sicker older goblins. He felt the bandage on his left foot tear open a bit as he ran. He mumbled something in common, and continued on, praying to get home soon.

720 words