The TwiceBorn

The Goblin Fight Club

     “Far be it from me to ever let my common sense get in the way of my stupidity. I say we press on.” --Kenyon          

 Loki gave a deep rumble in his throat at the sound of her laughter and arched his neck.  He moved forward, a dark shadow among the flickering yellow and Alora saw that she had reached the narrow path that led to the night hags’ camp.  The pale yellow she'd seen was the reflection of torches clutched in long dead hands that were buried in the earth lining the path.

Alora smiled.  Memories and musings coalesced around her, rich and ancient. She remembered hazy nights of running with shadows, a young girl, ready to live life in whatever manner it deigned to reveal itself to her and even though her heart now knew a quieter song, she still recognized  the deep drum of blackness and wasn’t that what was important?

Important, yes.  But was it enough?

Loki snorted eagerly as he began to dance along the trail.  Alora straightened up in her saddle and tilted her chin imperiously as a small goblin raced out of the shadows and blocked the road.

“Who ventures on the deadpath?”  He crowed pompously, causing Blixen to squeal with laughter.

“Are you blind as well as stupid, Rook?  It is The Twiceborn!”

Blixen’s voice was shrill in her ear as he screamed down to the other goblin and, in his excitement, he began to jump up and down, driving his hooves into Alora’s shoulder.  She resisted the urge to knock him onto the ground again.

The goblin harrumphed at Blixen’s announcement and ventured closer.  Again, Alora silently wondered why anyone would want to have a goblin as a pet.  They had absolutely no redeeming qualities.  Of course, she’d thought one goblin was just as foul as another but now she could see she’d been wrong. 

The one blocking her path had long, pulpy growths hanging from his scarred face and one of his eyes was off centered from the other. His features reminded her of melted candle wax.

He wore fatigued armor that had rusted in places and his bald head was pitted and scaled.  He met her gaze squarely though and his pus-filled eyes were sharp with suspicion as he menacingly swung his tiny staff then slammed the point of it hard against the ground.

“You are the stupid one,Blixen!  How do you know she’s The Twiceborn?” 

The ancient little goblin’s voice was heavy with some sort of fluid and Alora caught a reeky smell rising up off his pitted skin that reminded her of dead fish in the sun.  She held Loki still and contemplated what to do.

The goblin pointed one trembling long-nailed finger at Blixen and scowled.

“The only thing you are confident of is what hangs between your legs!”  He thundered.

“Jealous of my endowments.  Always has been. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of this matter.”  Blixen confided to Alora in a conspiratorial whisper.  He placed his odd little raccoon-like hands on his hips and glared down at Rook.

“Did you get hit on the head again in your last match?  It is The Twiceborn,I’m telling you!”

Alora watched as Rook dropped his head and muttered something beneath his breath.  As goblins went, he was one of the uglier ones.  He had a pig’s snout that she queasily noticed was rimmed with green mucus.  The snout was snugged up tight against his tiny pus-filled eyes and his lips were an odd orange color, like slivers of rotted pumpkin. 

She watched as his spongy black tongue darted out and nervously slicked over his lips.  He stamped the staff against the ground again and nodded his head as he came to some sort of conclusion.