Mervyn Gets A Leg Up

When the adventurers had killed the two goblin skirmishers, the third goblin realized he was finished. He looked left, then right, panicking. He saw no way out and raised his arms in surrender.

Alice the dwarf lifted her crossbow to her shoulder and took aim. Her companion, a human in full plate armor named “Dungeon” Bob Dungeon, grabbed her wrist. "Hold on there, Alice. He's surrendered."

"Well what the 'ell's 'e good fer? Less juss killim!"

Nearby, Sparkletootsie the elf wiped his sword clean and sheathed it. “Yeah, kill it, it’s just a goblin.”

The goblin smiled broadly and spoke. "Whoa, whoa. Hey. I hear you. You're mad, I was just on the enemy's side, I get that. Thing is, you need a guy who knows how this place works. You need an inside man."

The adventurers exchanged a look. Dungeon Bob said "and you can tell us where we can find what we seek?"

"Absolutely."

"What's in it for you?"

"Me? I need to live. That's number one. Secondly, and I think you'll agree, I sided with the wrong team. Working with the goblins was great until you three sauntered in here and started racking heads. Now? I'm out of a job and I know it. I'm changing sides."

Sparkletootsie tapped his delicate and pointed upper lip. “I guess if we kill a foe that’s surrendered, we’re really no better than the goblin scum.”

Alice spat between broken teeth. "I still say we killim."

The goblin smiled. "I see where you're coming from. Honestly, I do. I'm a goblin, you're in the goblin den, you don't know if you can trust me... but check this out bubbie. What are you here for?"

Dungeon Bob said "We're in search of the lost treasure of Azorach.”

The goblin brightened. "Oh, that treasure! I know the very one. I can take you to it."

"You can?"

"Yep, and I can let you know about upcoming hazards. This is good for all four of us. I see a winning horse, and I'm jumping on it."

Sparkletootsie thought for a moment. "Bind his arms." Alice shrugged and tied the goblin's arms behind his back. "What's your name?" the elf asked.

"Mervyn. My esteemed and late colleagues here were Joe and Mike."

"Pleased t'meetcher," Alice grunted.

"What's this slime pit for?" Dungeon Bob gestured to a ten by twenty foot wide pit filled with glowing greenish ooze.

"I don't even know. Seriously. It was here when we moved in. We've only been here about a month or so. I never figured out what the thing's for. We’ve been using it to dispose of kitchen scraps." Bob and Mervyn walked to a portcullis that blocked a passageway to the north. "So, um, we've got to get through here. Normally Debbie's running the portcullis lever, but I guess she ran on to warn the others that you're here." Quietly, Mervyn said "So, what’s the deal with you guys? You an adventuring party?"

Bob shrugged. “I guess so. We just met the elf recently, but he seems to be working out. Alice and I have been together forever.”

“Together, huh? Like... together together, or just friends?”

“Together together.”

The goblin nodded. "She's a lovely woman." He looked back. Alice was relieving herself into the slime pit.

Dungeon Bob, abashed, yelled "Alice, must you?"

The dwarf chuckled. "Better out than in!"

"Right she is," Mervyn agreed. "Shall we move on?”

The three adventurers and their goblin captive crouched in the hallway adjoining the next room. Mervyn was speaking in a low voice. "Okay, check it out. Through this next room are some traps."

"What kinds of traps?"

"Dart traps. Step on a floor tile, it shoots at you. Standard stuff. Trouble is, we just had it installed recently so I couldn't even tell you where the exact tiles are. Just stay clear of the sarcophagi and you'll be fine. I know what you're thinking, but there's no undead in those sarcophagi. Not a problem."

"Wait a stinkin' minute," Alice sneered. "I don't like that 'e's not tellin' where the trapped tiles are."

"Alice, babe, I'm not pulling your leg. I really don't know. Most of us don't. We just lost a guy last week to the trap. Ffft! Dead."

Sparkletootsie nodded. "All right, we keep a wide berth around the sarcophagi."

The goblin went on. "Louis, his name was. I never liked the guy anyway. Told a lot of racist jokes. He had this one joke about... uh... oh yeah: 'What's the difference between a hobgoblin and a unicorn? The teeth.' I don't even get that one."

"Alice, you take point."

"We joke around a lot down here. Mike from the first room, you should see the impressions he can do... Except I guess he's dead now. Never mind."

Alice wrenched Mervyn's arms back by the hemp rope that tied them. "Shut up."

"Sure, sure. Oh! Wait."

"What?"

"Um. This is awkward, but... I'm going to make a fuss. Like I'm your unwilling captive, I'm trying to escape at every waking moment, yadda yadda."

Dungeon Bob crossed his arms. "Why's that, Mervyn? I thought we could trust you."

"You can, you can! It's just that I gotta play it safe, y'know? If we go through this place and I'm leading you onward and we're acting like bosom pals, that's gonna be bad for me if, and I mean IF, you guys get taken down. I'm just saying it can happen and I've gotta keep up appearances, have all my options open. I think that's not unreasonable."

"Fine, let's go."

They bolted around the corner, trailing a wildly shrieking and hissing Mervyn. “Quit it! Lemme go, see?” Three goblins were sitting by the far door. They jumped up, alarmed, and area ran off through the next corridor.

The adventurers stopped advancing. "Why they runawayed like that?" Alice asked.

Mervyn shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe they assume the traps will finish you off.”

“Hold on a second,” Sparkletootsie said. “Why wouldn’t you know their tactics?”

The goblin rolled his eyes. “Because I wasn’t trained for the sarcophagus room, okay? I was trained for the slime pit room, and in the slime pit room, you just attack. It’s not advanced stuff that we’re doing here.”

The elf nodded curtly. “All right then, I apologize for jumping to conclusions.”

“Not at all, uh... Sparkletootsie, was it?” They began creeping over the trapped tiles.

“It’s a clan name,” the elf sniffed. “It’s generally granted to fine warriors of great reknown. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Of course not. I mean... just... you know that in the common tongue, it suggests someone with glittered toes, right?”

“Yes, that’s actually the literal translation of what it means in elvish. Still, though, glitter is only applied to the toes of the greatest warriors in the village. It’s an honor to be named Sparkletootsie.”

“Ahh,” Mervyn said. They walked on in silence for a moment more.

Sparkletootsie added “…and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

They paused at the entrance to the next room.

"Okay," Mervyn said. "In this next room, this is where we play Skull-Skull. It's got four more..."

"What?"

"What what?"

"What is Skull-Skull?"

"Ahh. I guess you guys don't play that. It's a game we play in which piles of skulls are smashed by a rock."

Alice sneered. "That sounds like a 'orrible game."

Mervyn thought. "Yeah, I guess I never thought about it like that. Not much of a game, really. Anyway. So the room's basically a long, bare corridor with a second level balcony at the far side. All the others will be perched on that, firing down at us from safety."

Dungeon Bob leaned against a wall. "Hmm... that does sound rough. Alice has a few ranged attacks, but Sparkles and I only have our melee weapons. It'd be a slaughter."

Mervyn brightened up. "Okay, wait! Idea. Let's run this one up the flagpole and see if it flies. At the corridor leading into the room, we make like I just bashed you in the head and I run up to the door alone." Bob's eyebrows furrowed. He didn't like the sound of this. "Hear me out, hear me out. I tell them I just brained you and that Alice and Sparkles are escaping on foot and that they've gotta go get them, like, right now. They run out through the corridor. Sparkles is hiding behind that corner and he jumps out after they run by. You'll have trapped them all between you in a five foot wide hallway, where only one of them can reach you at a time."

Sparkletootsie stroked his earlobes, which was a perfectly acceptable affectation in elf culture for signaling that you’re considering a stratagy. "Hmmm. Like a pincer attack."

"Pincer attack, baby!"

"We'd 'ave to let 'im go," Alice said. "I don't know 'bout this."

"Yeah, that's a drawback. Think of it this way, though... you take a risk. IF it proves you can't trust me and I run in there, that's just one more goblin on the balcony than you were going to have to deal with anyway. IF my plan comes through, you'll have a dynamite way to nail these creeps, am I right?"

Dungeon Bob sighed. "You're right. I don't know if I trust him either Alice, but it's the best plan. Let's let him go."

Alice untied Mervyn's bonds. "Ahh. Thanks Alice, you're a peach. Okay, Sparkles my man, you go hide over there. Bob, Alice, you go to the end of the corridor. Excuse me for a second, I’m going to get into character here. Ahem.”

Mervyn shook out his arms and let his eyes go blank. “Ack! Oof! Augh!” He ran shrieking through the door. "You guys! You've gotta come quick, I just knocked one out! The other two are getting away!"

The goblins above eyed him warily. "What happened?"

"I got free and bashed the main guy in the head, and thanks by the way, Debbie, for running off and leaving me alone earlier. The others are running back to the village, they said they were going to come back with an army! Go, there's no time!"

The goblins clambered down the rickety ladder and ran around the corner. Squawks and wet thumping noises followed. When the three adventurers came around the corner they expected to find Mervyn had fled, but he sat smiling on the balcony, kicking his feet.

“That worked out well enough,” Sparkletootsie admitted.

Mervyn spread his arms in a gesture that seemed to say heyyyyy. "Thanks you guys. So listen, I've been thinking. This has gone pretty well. What say, and I'm just throwing this out there, if at the end of this thing you agree that I've been really helpful... you cut me in on a share. Eh?"

"A share of the treasure?"

"Yeah! I could join the group proper, make the assimilation into civilized society, finally break free of the stigma of goblin life."

Alice looked at Dungeon Bob like she smelled something she wasn't responsible for. Sparkles nodded at Bob, and Bob nodded at Alice. She belched in response. "All right, agreed," Bob said to Mervyn. "IF you're alive, and IF you help us past the further traps and challenges, and IF you prove worthy, we'll make you a fourth partner in the treasure."

"Wow, this is fantastic. You guys are class acts. No longer will I have to be a goblin soldier. I was getting so sick of this place. Human society is the way to go. I mean, what’s the point of getting a treasure and fiercely guarding it in a cave? It makes no sense, am I right?"

They walked on to the next room.

They crouched by the doorway. “Okay,” Mervyn began. “This room is inhabited by the second-in-command. He’s tough, but we can take him.”

Alice the dwarf furrowed her knotted brow. “What izzy?”

“He’s a troll. Now now, don’t despair, yes, trolls are big. Yes, they’re mean. Yes, they regenerate wounds and severed limbs. Yes, their blood is acid. Yes, they...”

“Get on with it.” Dungeon Bob interrupted.

“Right. Anyway. Given that they regenerate, and given that I’ve only ever been on a troll’s side, I have no idea what his weaknesses might be. Do any of you?”

The adventurers exchanged shrugs. “I think I hurt one’s feelings, once,” Sparkletootsie said. “He really did have cankles, though.”

Alice asked “Did ‘e die from it?”

The elf looked annoyed. “No, he mostly just nearly decapitated me. It was a whole thing.”

“That’s okay,” Mervyn said, “That’s okay. I’ve got an idea to deal with him as well. I’m going to need a... oh, good, there’s a supply closet.” Mervyn went to an adjacent closet and rooted around in it. He popped back up wearing a pair of glasses and holding a solid piece of slate with a paper fastened to it.

“A clipboard?” Dungeon Bob gaped. “How are you going to defeat a troll with a clipboard?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

The troll looked up from his turkey bones. He’d been playing with them. There was never much to do around here. “Yeah?”

A bookish goblin holding a clipboard was walking in with a smile. “Hi. Mervyn, slime pit room. We’re doing some quick appraisals of the dungeon and are trying to maximize everyone’s comfort and safety around here. Got a few questions for you, if you’ve got a second.”

The troll pushed his turkey bones aside. “I’m kinda busy but I guess I could answer a few.”

“Grrreat. Question one, how do you feel about the spike traps? Would you say they’re evenly placed, unevenly placed, neither evenly nor unevenly placed, or no opinion?”

The troll shrugged. “Evenly placed.”

“That’s swell! Question two, how would you rate your satisfaction with the pack of howling deathmites we’ve installed in the third room of the dungeon? On a scale of one to five.”

“... ...Four?”

“Very good. Do you wear armor, and if not, why?”

“I don’t. Mostly because I’m technically made of stone, but also because I regenerate real good.”

“Okay, just one more question and we’re done. What are your vulnerabilities, if any?” The troll stared at Mervyn. Quickly, the goblin added “We only ask because we want to make sure any offending substances or elements are eliminated from the dungeon forthwith. Safety is our first concern.”

“Hmm,” the troll grunted. “Well, now that you mention it...”

Mervyn stomped back to the adventurers. “He dudden look happy,” Alice observed.

“Okay you guys. This is going to suck.”

After a brief discussion the group went to work. They backtracked to the rooms they’d visited already and began dragging the goblin corpses to the front of the dungeon. Then, they each got down on their hands and knees and scrubbed at the floor and walls of the corridor where Mervyn had laid his trap. The splashes of gore were almost impossible to remove, but after a time they had cleaned up the evidence to a satisfactory level.

“Okay,” Mervyn said, straightening and rubbing his sore back. “Everyone ready? Take your places.”

An aggravated Mervyn returned to the troll’s lair. “I’m sorry to bother you again, sir.”

Turkey bones clattered to the table as the troll’s makeshift turkey bone house fell apart. “What is it?” the troll asked. “I’m, like, super busy here.”

“We’ve got a situation in the main atrium, we need you to come right away.”

“Oh, in that case,” the troll stood. He paused for a moment and turned to the door at the rear of his room. “I should probably get the boss.”

“No! No, no, uh... that won’t be necessary, this isn’t something to bother him about. Real middle-management stuff.”

“All right then.” The two of them walked cordially down the hall, through the adjoining rooms. “So quiet,” the troll said. “Hey, where is everyone? No one’s at their posts.”

“Right you are. Everyone’s outside, doing exercise drills. New initiative to keep up morale and maximize employee health.”

“Oh. Lame.”

“Couldn’t agree more sir. Well, here we are.” Mervyn stopped.

The troll looked around. “What’s wrong? I don’t see... wait, this ain’t the atrium.”

“That’s right, sir,” Mervyn agreed. “It’s the slime pit room.”

Just then Sparkletootsie, Dungeon Bob and Alice the Dwarf slammed into the troll’s back. The troll teetered and fell into the pit, where he promptly sank straight to the bottom.

“Just like the poor devil said,” Mervyn eulogized. “He was ‘allergic to drownding.’”

At the door to the final boss’s cave, Mervyn paused. "Here we are at the big guy’s lair. Now, mind you... this is a dragon. The real deal."

Sparkletootsie said “wow... a dragon?”

"That's right pumpkin. Big white one. Deadly. We can do it though, I happen to know his weaknesses right off. He’s an ice dragon, which means...” Mervyn let it hang, waiting for someone else to answer for him.

“E’s allerdgic to fire!” Alice the dwarf beamed with ruddy pride.

“Er... the term really isn’t ‘allergic,’ but yes! Fire. Fire will kill him more quickly than anything. So who’s got fire-based weaponry?”

“I do.” Dungeon Bob produced his backpack, and from it he drew three opaque bottles. “These ignite when broken, and the liquid inside is a combustive spirit.”

Alice reached into her quiver. “I got five fire sticks I could shoot at ‘im.”

“Bolts, honey.” Dungeon Bob looked a bit embarrassed. “When you shoot them from a crossbow they’re called bolts, not sticks.”

Sparkletootsie said “I could coat my longsword in flaming tar. The tar would get into the wounds and continue to burn.”

“All of the above works. Let’s get to work, gang!”

The group stepped into the cave. Mervyn stood behind the other three. Cold air mingled with their breath, and they exhaled frosty plumes. Somewhere in the cave, the sound of enormous lungs rumbled against the walls. Mervyn yelped and ducked behind a stalagmite.

The dragon leapt out and soared on immense white wings to where the group stood. It landed and roared, brandishing its teeth in wide, gleaming arcs.

“For Twinkleburg!” Sparkletootsie yelled. He ran forward.

"To victory!" Dungeon Bob yelled. He ran forward.

"What 'e said!" Alice yelled. She ran forward.

The dragon breathed an immense cloud of frozen air, bathing the heroes in ice. The elf’s fiery sword winked out immediately and their steps slowed to a stop. The blast of ice continued to coat the frozen heroes in ever-lengthening horizontal icicles over about ten full seconds. Then the dragon stepped on them and crushed them into so much reddish slush.

The dragon licked its maws contentedly, and noticed Mervyn. "You there," the dragon called. "Was that all of them?"

Mervyn stood up, his legs shaking. "Yes, that was it."

"Good. How many of you are left?"

"How many... of me?"

"Yes!" the dragon cried impatiently. "How many of my minions are left?"

"Oh. Um. Just me."

"Ahh, that's a shame. Well, you're now my second-in command. Recruit some new help and reset the traps."

Mervyn blinked and smiled. "Yes sir! I was just saying to Debbie the other day that I had some big ideas for this place. We can make it great again, you know. I believe in what we do here, and I think after this minor setback we can be better than ever."

"Great! You seem like a goblin with real vision. Write up a proposal and hit me with it at your convenience. For now, get to work."

"Thank you sir. We'll do lunch. Ciao!"

And that's the story of how Mervyn the goblin got promoted.