High Fantasy Shorts is back with a little story about goblins having a fun time! Nothing sinister happening behind the scenes, no sireebob. As last time, my writing playlist and writing prompt are after the story.
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Sprig, Twig, Nit, and Gnat sat bored on Blaggard Alley. Gnat picked his nose with a rat bone. Nothing doing. The worst ‘a doing.
It was Nit who heard it. Ears swiveled like a cat, picking up a pitter-pat. Nit leapt up a fangy grin, hit Gnat in the back, screeched, “Party!” Market Street was riot with gobs. The best 'a doing!
Sprig and Twig followed, Gnat cottoned last - had to pick a bone outta his nose.
Nit pulled a knife, ran it through a purse tie, grabbing coins as they clattered.
Sprig sprung over a fat mustachioed farmer, spun him dizzy, unleashed a chicken coop.
Caught up in the clucking, Twig slipped on dung, scrambled swearing then stood dumb at the sight of a prize hog. Sneakytime? No! Mounting the pig, Twig grabbed ears and pulled, bowling a mob of gobs before he caught a lamb hock to the face.
But Gnat hit cracker jack: a barrel of pitch and a torch. Shoving the barrel, Gnat gave his best torch pitch, and a blaze went a barrelling, catching Nit’s pants alight. Gobs cheered as the blazing barrel hit an alchemist’s stall and
fwa-BWOOOM!
Sailing gobs flipped wailing, an acrid smell, the farmer grew a new chicken head, chickens grew mustaches, a 50-foot pork barrel went rolling…
And in the chaos, an odd man plucked an arcane statuette off a stall shelf, walking casually past harassed guards, whistling as he left.
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Writing playlist: Shostakovich Symphony #9
Inspiration Point: Goblin Rally
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