The Cave Part 19

"Wondering I am, who ya are," said the goblin, his posture slightly stooped as if he were about to run away on his hands and feet. I gathered it must be a natural posture considering his shape shifting practice. "Ya come from the sacred cave above?"

"I did," said I, eyeing this fellow curiously. Was he of the goblin people who had carved the reliefs in the long stairway tunnel? Appearances could certainly be deceiving. This Glip looked to be a woodsman, a hunter on the trail and in the brush. "Do you live in these woods? I am sort of a stranger."

"The Cobalt Death let ya live?" asked Glip, taking a cautious step forward and standing a little straighter in surprise.

"Yes. I am being sent by him to visit the tribe that lives along the north road on my way to Vinesburg."

"This true? Then ya come with Glip, the young hunter," replied he, clapping his hands in a gesture of excitement. "Ya might know what to do about, the creature. Come! Let us hurry!"

"Wait what?!" I stammered, not liking the ambiguous mention of a creature. What in the Seven Realms did that mean?

"Oh ya see," said he, gesturing me to follow him down the trail. "Elder Mona tell ya all about it. She say ya come soon. See ya from afar in dreams."

"This certainly seems to be the mountain for dreams," I answered, keeping in step with him. "I have had some myself."

"Dream walks be more important than ya know. Many peoples doubt the truths, the wisdom of them. Ya be going to the right wise woman for answers. Say what ya name?"

I had to admit to myself that in spite of all the memories that had been coming back unbidden at times, my name was the one thing that did not return. It seemed odd that in all the recollections, people would call me something, but I could not hear it. A definite gap, a hole in my past that seemed more than purposeful. Was I ashamed somewhere in my darkest thoughts of that name, the person who had killed and stolen? The new name had effectively replaced and covered over the past. Part of me was glad of that. I answered the goblin's question, and wondered what he would make of it.

"Cairandawyn?" he asked slowly and thoughtfully, rolling the syllables around in his mouth as if tasting them. "Me thinks ya name is too long."

"Well, you can shorten it to Cair," said I with a laugh. "Tell me, how did you get the name Glip? Not anymore usual than Cairandawyn is it?"

"Aye, my father wanted it to by Glop, but thank me mother it was not."

He shot me a toothy grin, and in spite of his confident demeanor, I gathered he was rather younger than he appeared. Possibly the equivalent of myself in goblin years. It was then that I realized I really knew very little about this short but resourceful people. About a span tall, maybe more. How long were their lives? How did they live? I heard they were cave dwellers. Who was this person out in the wide world beneath the bright sun?

"You use your shape shifting to hunt?" I asked, knowing it was a rather poor opening conversation question, but I had no idea of where to start.

"Ya betcha I do, but also to spy on wanderers like ya. Some the Cobalt Death gives leave to walk through. Others he wants warned off."

"I have to confess I do not know much about the other races of our world. Can you tell me more about yourself, Glip?"

"Not much to tell ya," said he, though he proceeded to tell me a whole lot more than I thought from that opening salvo. I learned in the next few minutes that he was the son of Glom a mechanical minded goblin, and his wife Oba, a medicine women and no mean hunter herself. Glip was as I expected a relatively young person, being some forty seasons old, out of a possible lifetime of a few hundred years. I was shocked to hear this, that goblins were so similar to dwarves in their years and some of their interests.

Both races lived far longer than humans, tended to dwell in the mountains and mine out valuable resources from the earth. The goblin kind though were not as focused on the crafting of fine weapons, armor, and beautiful treasures as the dwarves, but rather prized above all the inventions of the mechanical arts. If there was a way to do big things and do it by machines operated by one singe goblin, or less, they loved it.

Glip quickly outlined the fact that there were goblins, and there were goblins, if I took his meaning. Some were like he and his tribe, living at peace as best they could with all people, venerating the dragon and supporting their village that had two halves, one part above ground and full of well maintained gardens, and the other the mines in which they delved for metal. On the other hand, there were goblins that warred with other people, were cruel and used their genius for machines to create terrible weapons of mass destruction. Like all races, there were good and evil people, some self absorbed and neutral, some inclined to help others. The same story found everywhere else.

"Ya like our tribe," he went on. "We have good medicine folk. Famous everywhere around. People come from Vinesburg to trade with us all the time."

"I am looking forward to meeting your people," said I, "you are in fact the first goblins I ever met."

"Really? Ya must not get out very much. We are found all through the places along the sea. Goblins hate water travel, but we attracted to the sea anyway. A big beast to try and control. Takes huge machines to do it. Maybe never will."

"I grew up in the interior," said I. "Traveled down river a time or two, but I have never seen the sea. I hear the kingdom of men draw a lot of fish from it."

"Oh yes!" he exclaimed, quite excited by the subject, even doing a half jump with arms flung upwards. "The big fish from the sea are so sweet! Almost no fish to be found in the mountains. Just some ponds, and the fish be so small. We must fight with the other predators to catch them, and they only a few measly bites. We trade with some of the men that visit us. Mostly dried fish, but one time when I was a sprout, my father and uncles took me to the town to fix a clock. We ate a fresh catch brought to market. I never forget this until I jump the fire."

"Jump the fire?" I asked, intrigued by his memories and the strange expression.

"When we die, when we jump the Fire of Genius that Nobguar stole from Mountains of Memory."

"An ancient ancestor?"

"The first goblin inventor, who raised up his people from their down cast faces. He opened their eyes to what could be done to make life full."

"There must be many tales about him. Do you know many?"

"Oh yes, many stories about Nobguar," he replied, looking more than pleased to have someone interested in the lore of his people. "Elder Mona knows them all, and she be the great storyteller of our tribe. Ya like her a lot! We not far from the village. I tell ya about it?"