The End

Where does the world end? This surely is a subjective question to many. To many, it is where the physical plane of earth, rock and mineral ceases. To some, it can be where the last tavern sits before the gates and walls of the city they call home. Some cities have been known to have multiple taverns of similar name, causing many to attempt to trace a route to go drinking through each tavern and establishment through the city as they go. For those poor souls, the end of the world is not normally found in the drink that they choose that evening, but the feeling of they suffer the next morning.

For Roke, the 3rd Commander of the Goblin Guard, who had been called into the office of the representative of the Protector of the city Haven, he felt his world coming to an end when given the task of what is commonly called Legacy of the King. Which normally would mean everyone would hate you and you have to build something big enough to leave a mark at the great Goblin Gate, or have an impact on people’s lives that would mean the King would be remembered. Few would ever remember the person who was given the take of administrator. A cursed role that few voluntarily wanted in any organisation.

The only solace for Roke when being told his new brief, was that he had actually felt worse, and a similar end of the world feeling, when he finally, although supported by a few drinks at his local tavern, plucked up the courage to ask his the future Mrs Roke for a casual game of Siege. If she said no, his friends would laugh at him, but it would also mean his own world would collapse as he had dreamed of asking her to play a game for about 5 years, ever since his own growing changes began. It had always been her. But thankfully she said yes, and despite his nerves, he won the game. He didn’t realise that she wanted to let him win as she knew he had been wanting to ask for at least 3 years since he would not stop staring at her when she worked the in the bakery stretching out the bread for the day to be baked.

It would be the only game she would let him win in their entire life together, “Let them win the first one,” her mother told her when her changes were starting. “That way, they will always feel they can beat you again, and keep trying to get one over you again.” As a person who had herself, failed to keep any partner for more than 2 seasons since her the father of Mrs Roke died in a goblin raid many years before, the advice was weighted, but no one could compete with her father, so her mother’s advice was kept.

But it was when The Captain, walking as he did along the river Co’ombe, which flowed through the city of Co’ombe where he lived, that he stumbled on something that brough his world to an end. Which was fortunate as a new one was about to begin with his discovery.

“What are you doing here?” A giant of a man, as tall as a man and a half, and twice as wide as any, his gentle demeanour was there as long as it was needed. Those who knew him, or worse, the patrons of his Tavern who failed to keep to the rules, knew it could disappear like a coins at a table.

Lying on the floor, wrapped in ripped rags and an orange hat held on by the ears poking through, was a small goblin. Having been a former guard on the Goblin gate, he was used to seeing goblins, they normally held a range of weapons aiming at him along with a snarl that still haunted him on quiet nights when woken by a brawl outside.

But today was about fishing for the specials at lunch as it was going to be packed for the Siege Tournament he had been tricked into hosting. Having a full tavern was one sure way of being able to survive another round of taxes should the farmer knock, and catching fish for free would only maximise his profits. A goblin would only bring trouble.

But this was not the Goblin Gate, this was not a goblin in armour and, he was not in the river patrol militia hunting for goblin raiders. Here lay a shivering, petite goblin, clothes torn and not a weapon in sight. The hordes sent in their warriors, even the rapid attack scouts, with more weapons and provisions than what he found that day on the riverside and caught in the Co’ombe.

-Take her back to The Bell.-

The voice was back, no one else seemed to hear it, but with its encouragement, he couldn’t help but wrap up the goblin in a bundle of wraps and add to his cart. It wasn’t a long journey back to The Bell, but when harbouring a goblin, it would not be an easy one.