"Into the Dawn"

By;fernand jiro marantal

"Being evil is a hell chapter 3"

BY;fernand jiro

Well, that’ll make him sleep for a while”, Jurglarr said, “Now tell me how and why you got here.”
-“I didn’t know you were such a good thief.”
-“Comes with being a goblin. What’s this feathery thingy?”
-“Don’t know.”
-“Why did you sleep on the road?”
-“Something hit me on the head.”
-“This thing?”
-“Don’t know.”
The troll massaged his arm. He had quite a lot of wounds.
-“That’s a good fighter, that guy. Who is he?”
-“His name’s Thor. And he wants to kill you, so I think you should get away from here before he wakes up.”
-“He’s that hero?”
-“Yes. What are you doing here?”
-“One of the stupid maidens ran away.”
-“Maidens? Oh no, don’t tell me Felix has used that old cliché.”
-“What’s a cliché?”
-“Never mind. Get back to his Lordishness and tell him the hero is on his way. And that we’ve found some strange being that looks like the result of one of the Sorcerer’s creations. I wonder what in the nine nether hells it is. Any idea?”
-“Don’t know.”
-“Get going, troll.”
The troll got up and walked.
One of the things trolls do absolutely best is walking. The other thing is fighting.
Nobody knows what moves in the head of a troll when it is walking, but it seems as though they are all thinking of something really important. A thinking troll can be almost as intimidating as a fighting one.
Jurglarr watched the troll, thinking goblin thoughts.
But then he quickly got busy again. He scuttled off into the forest, and came back a little later with some kind of mossy goo.
He put it on the thing’s head, mumbling some old goblin blessing to himself.
People say that all goblins and trolls are always on the evil side, which is wrong. There are good goblins, but they are usually called gnomes. Trolls, however, are always with the bad guys.
Which is rather strange, as trolls are usually very peaceful.
This is because of evolution. Trolls were very big and strong and practically invincible. When they fought a lot of people died. It didn’t take much time to discover, even for a troll.
And if everyone died, there was nobody left.
And that’d be very boring.
So trolls developed a peaceful mind, because much people are usually so much more interesting than no people at all.
But why did they love to work for Dark Lords?
When Jurglarr thought he knew the answer the bird thing awoke.
It squawked. And then, gradually, the squawk became a voice. Jurglarr didn’t quite catch the words, but it did sound as some sort of cursing.
His eyes got even wider than before when he saw the strange procedure of the eagle-thing going human.
It was not some sort of fast changing, it was not the feathers vanishing and arms growing out and all that stuff.
It was more like, well, as if the human had been there all the time but sort of hid behind the eagle.
It had a purple robe.
It was the Sorcerer.
And he looked really tired.

The first rays of sun touched Lord Felix’ dark castle.
They had done so many times before. This morning, however, something was being different.
Instead of just shining upon the castle and making it brighten up, the sunlight was somehow being absorbed by the castle, and it looked darker than yesterday.
Lord Felix could feel it as he opened his eyes.
Something was different.
He had become more evil.
He staggered up from his bed and looked in the small mirror that hung on the wall.
And he saw the terrible changes. He had become taller and more handsome, but in an awfully horrid way, like the corpse of a handsome person.
But the thing that scared him the most was his eyes. They had gone coal black, like two old mines, or rather, like ink. He gasped for air, making a hissing sound.
So this was how being a real Dark Lord was, eh? He put on his helmet, and now discovered that it too had changed. It was no longer a black silly iron hat; it was like watching the head of Death itself.
But there was still something missing. Still something that was not completely evil. He was still not a real Dark Lord.
And in a way he felt he no longer wanted to be one. He would probably have gone into long and philosophical thoughts, but he did not have the time for that as someone was knocking on his door.
-“Yes?”, he said, and now also noticed that his voice was different too, it sounded like someone speaking from the bottom of a well.
The door opened and an orc stepped into the room.
-“Milord, one patrol is gone.”
-“Gone, you say?”
-“Without a trace.”
-“Excellent.”
-“Excellent, milord?”
-“Yes, excellent. That means the hero is coming. Have you found the sorcerer yet?”
-“No milord, we haven’t. He’s gone too.”
Felix suddenly felt anger flowing within him for no reason at all. “Oh crap”, he thought, “Another of those Dark Lord things. Perhaps I should fight the urge?”
A cruel voice coming from somewhere within him said “No. Resistance is pointless, mortal.”
Felix drew his sword and in one smooth move, he cut the orc in half. It looked completely dumbfounded, and then peacefully collapsed in a neat pile.
Felix stared at it.
This was actually the first time he had ever killed someone.
He dropped his sword and fainted, head filled with thoughts and moral.
Somewhere within him Felix was arguing with Dark Lord. They were not getting along very well.
-“Did you make me do this?”
-“Yes. I did, in a way.”
-“In a way?”
-“You see, evil is not there if nobody gains anything.”
-“So what or who gained anything?”
-“Your book. “Dark Lording for Dummies.”
- “My book?”
-“Well, not the book, but the thing that controls the book.”
-“What controls the book?”
-“Well, it’s not a question of good or evil, it’s…”
They both went silent.
-“So what you’re saying is that I am only being evil because some guy gets money?”
-“Yes.”
-“How do you know?”
-“I am the evil part of you, right?”
-“What about all these changes?”
-“Money too.”
-“How can money do that?”
-“Do not underestimate the power of the money.”
-“So money is always evil?”
-“Oh no, it can be good too. It’s… quite complicated to explain.”
-“Isn’t there anything we can do?”
-“I don’t know.”
-“By the way, why are you helping me? You are my evil side.”
-“Well, you see, even if I am a creation of the money, in a way, I am still a part of you. And as you have always known, you are not a very good Dark Lord.”
-“So you mean that I am resistant to evil even though I am evil?”
-“Yes.”
-“That’s weird.”
There was silence again in the mind of Dark Lord Felix. After a long time, Felix spoke.
-“Want to take a beer when all this is over?”
-“You bet, buddy.”

A great amount of orcs were gathered around the temporary tower built by the border between Dribble Forest and the Bronze Plains. It was actually all the orcs that Felix had. He had started out with 500, and now only 356 were left. One orc was standing in the tower, commanding the others.
-“Lord Felix has sent this letter, which I am now to, um, open and read to my fellow… Anyone knows what that means? …My fellow orcs. At least it says so on the envelope.”
The orc tore the envelope in half.
-“Oops. Um… The hero is commin’ this way, and un… We are gonna watch here so he won’t get past. You’ve done that before, right?”
The crowd shouted something in orcish.
-“There’s more too… Since Grashnik is dead, the commander orc is now Gnash-Nash. Where’s Gnash-Nash?”
On orc in the crowd waved his hand.
-“Okie-dokie, mister commander orc, step right this way. You’re in charge now.”
The orc that had waved his hand quickly began to move toward the tower. He was smaller than the average orc, and more looked like a goblin.
-“How come he chose me?” it squeaked, in a very un-orc like way.
The speaking orc gazed at Gnash-Nash.
-“My guess is he chose the shut-your-eyes-and-point-at-random-name method.”
-“Just like you do when you’re gonna eat someone, then.”
-“Yeah.”
Gnash-Nash inspected the troops.
-“Well, orcs, it is now time to… Eh…”
He turned around and looked at the torn message from Felix.
-“It is now time to guard Dribbl!”
-“What’s Dribbl?”
-“There’s supposed to be something more, but unfortunately that part appears to be gone.”
-“Then what?”
-“Don’t ask stupid questions. We must of course find a Dribbl!”
-“What are we supposed to do with a Dribbl?”
-“Guard it, of course!”
The orcs began to look for a Dribbl. When they didn’t find any, they began striding south to look over there.
And after a while the area around the tower was empty. Only the orc that had first been speaking was left. He looked at a piece of paper he was holding in his hand. It said “e Forest”.
And with typical Orcish logic, he began guarding the forest all by himself. And he did so for quite a while, until Thor severed his head.

Thor, Jurglarr and the sorcerer, who called himself Gnilialf “Because it sounds like the name of a good wizard”, watched the castle, lying behind a small bush.
-“Is this the place, Jurglarr?”
-“Yes. But I don’t remember it this way. It used to be more… common.”
The castle certainly was more frightening than it had been when he left. It seemed to have grown. And he couldn’t remember there being a tower on it. Two goblins were guarding the entrance.
Thor turned to the sorcerer.
-“Well then, good wizard Gnilialf, I guess we will need your magic to get by that door?”
-“That’s right, I am a good wizard you see, I hate the Dark Lord.”
-“I know. Just use a spell, OK?”
He stood up.
-“Hello there, goblins! Recognise me?”
They looked at him.
-“Hey! It’s the sorcerer!”
-“I heard you get a reward if you bring him to Felix!”
-“Really?”
-“Yeah!”
Both goblins aimed at him with their bows.
-“You’re coming with us, sorcerer!”
-“Yeah!”
“Yeah!” isn’t a very common last word in life. But for this goblin, it became his last words, because a second later he was fried. The other goblin shot.
And hit the sorcerer.
Who immediately collapsed.
-“Is he dead?” Thor asked.
-“Nahh, goblin sleep arrow. I recognise them. He’ll be sleeping for a year or so.”
-“But how are we going to get past that door then?”
-“We’ll knock, of course.”
-“But he said.:.”
-“Yes, I know. Wizards. A useless bunch, really. This is how it’s done.”
Jurglarr walked to the goblin.
-“Hi there, buddy.”
-“Jurglarr?”
-“That’s right. How has things been in the castle?”
-“Great, really. Felix seems to be in a good mood.”
-“He ought to be. I’ve got the hero here, you see. Would you mind letting us through?”
-“Sure.”
The guard goblin opened the gate, and Jurglarr entered. After a while, Thor followed him as well. The guard goblin closed the door again, and poked his fried comrade.
-“How you doing, mate?”
-“Well, it hurts quite a lot, but I’m OK.”
-“He can never complete a spell, can he?”
-“Never. How did it feel, being dead.”
-“Not that bad. There was this tunnel, you see, and…”
Jurglarr watched the corridors. Someone had put torches on the wall.
-”This is not how I remember it.”
-“Really?”
-“It used to be a little more… Nice.”
-“What is Lord Felix like? Really?”
-“I’ve got to admit that he is not very horrible.”
-“Thought so. Where should we go?”
-“Where do you find Dark Lords?”
-“In some sort of dangerous throne room or something, I guess.”
-“That’s right. Ooh, look, someone has put this very handy map here, which shows how to get from the entrance to Lord Felix’ Very Horrible Chamber.”
-“Great!”
They continued.
-“You don’t think he’s overdone this a little?”
-“You mean the “This Way”-sign and the red arrows painted on the floor to show you where to go? No, not really. Usually heroes find the right way directly to where they’re going immediately.”
-“Yeah. I wonder how they do that.”
They reached a door marked Lord Felix’ Very Horrible Chamber.
-“Well, this is it, then.”
-“This is it.”
Thor drew his breath and his sword and opened the door.
It was a completely empty room, except for a sign standing there all by itself. It said “We discovered this room was too small when we had already made the map and the writing on the door. But it is too small, and thus “Lord Felix’ Very Horrible Chamber” has been moved two more doors to the left, the door marked “Lord Felix’ Very Horrible Chamber. Really”. Thank you.”
-“That’s Felix all right”, Jurglarr said. “Two more doors to the left, then.”
They moved two doors to the left.
-“Here goes nothing”, Thor said, and opened the door.
This room was more impressive. Goblins were standing by the wall, and Lord Felix was sitting in his throne. Fire burned in two pedestals.
-“Finally we meet, Thor.”
His voice was booming. Jurglarr couldn’t remember it that way.
-“Indeed, Felix.”
Jurglarr stepped to the side. His part was done, the only thing left now was the final duel between Felix and Thor.
Felix drew his sword and jumped down from his throne.
-“Very well, then…”
Thor attacked. Felix parried.
People who have seen fights in a movie don’t know what they really look like. People who have seen real swordfights knew exactly how the battle between Felix and Thor went.
Mostly they just stared at each other. Swords are dangerous. There is no time for impressive tricks or any talking in a real fight. Because someone waving a dangerous weapon at you is scary. Sure, Thor had been fighting before. But that had been orcs. And during the years, orcs have evolved to lose. How would it look if orcs won a fight? Maybe through cheating, but it is a fact that orcs never win a fair fight. Felix was different.
It was a long fight. Sometimes someone was nearly hit, but always avoided it in the last moment.
Jurglarr watched. Something was wrong with the fight. They were not his enemies, none of them. They were both his friends. He didn’t want either of them to die. And he knew who the real enemy was now, as he glared at their books.
The fight continued. Once Thor’s sword hit Felix, but his armour protected him. The sheer strength of the blow, however, nearly knocked him over. They were tired. They were afraid of each other. They were completely concentrated at not losing. And Jurglarr saw his chance.
He jumped. It was no elegant jump. It was a practical jump. And mid-air, when he was right between Thor and Felix, his hands suddenly moved very, very fast. He landed, holding on to the swords.
The both fighters stared at him.
-“I know who the real enemy is.”
Jurglarr said silently. And he grabbed Thor’s sword, went to the books, and clove them in half.
And they all understood.
-“So,” Felix said, “The Money, right?”
-“Right. It has made you think you are good and evil, instead of seeing what you really are.”
-“And that is…?”
-“Humans. You are just humans. Nothing more, nothing less. There isn’t such a thing as good and evil. There are only people. Humans, goblins, trolls. You are nothing but humans, and…”
-“All right, all right, we get it. So now what?”
-“What do you think?”
And they knew. And Thor the Hero and Dark lord Felix became just Thor and Felix.
The Hero and the Dark Lord continued their fight forever. But they would have to do it without Thor and Felix. And thus the story ends, because Good and Evil are only necessary for one thing. And that one thing is books.

This is how the story is told by the ancient Guardians of the Sacred Dribbl, in the faraway lands of Amgaria. And they ought to know.

"Being evil is a hell chapter 2"

By;fernand jiro

Flames licked the village. There was no-one left. They had all fled when the orcs approached, and because there was nobody to fight the patrol had just stolen what they liked and then set the village on fire. Lord Felix watched with mixed feelings, which is also another thing with some kinds of Dark Lords. They regret what they do. Why only the lords do this of all the bad guys remains a mystery. It happens from now to then that the leader will look mournful and regret, but the common henchman seldom does. Why this is the case remains a mystery.
Well, this would certainly make the hero come here.
People had gathered outside the castle for some reason. He went to the door.
Dark Lords really should speak from a balcony, but the balcony of Lord Felix’ castle was too rickety for this, and therefore he spoke from the door.
-“How can I help you… Err, I mean… What is it, pitiful slaves?”
One man stepped out of the crowd, speaking.
-“Could you protect us from these orcs, sir?”
-“Don’t you realise they’re mine, you idiots?”
-“Yours, sir?”
-“Yes, mine. I am a Dark Lord. Dark Lords have orcs!”
Felix was angry. All this work and it shows up the citizens hadn’t even found out he was evil.
-“But, like… You’re our king, you ought to protect us…”
-“I’m not a bloody king, I am a Dark Lord for goodne… Er… Evilness sake!”
The townsfolk were confused. So, they had been paying taxes to this jerk for him to be evil?
People could do that for free. The taxes were for nothing at all?
Felix saw the people getting angry in time. In a very scared voice, he shouted.
-“Er… Orcs? Hello? OORCS! COME HERE NOW!”
The orcs were too far away to hear him. Fortunately for Felix, he had goblins too. And, he suddenly saw, these people were unarmed. Felix had got a sword somewhere in his metal cocoon.
He drew it.
It was black, shiny, and engraved with runes. Never used.
He waved it at the townsfolk.
-“Goblins! Arrest these people now and take them to the mine as slaves!”
One of the goblins whispered something in his ears.
-“Oh, right, we have no mines. Well, throw some in prison and use some as slaves in the fields then!”
“Dammit,” Felix thought, “Another of those double minds again. Like, I know these people. That’s the smith, a very nice man, and there’s children here too.”
The other part of Felix said “You are finally being a proper Dark Lord! You should be happy! And besides the hero will free them anyway, later. It’s only for a short period.”
You can’t always be nice to people, that is a fact. If you are always nice to people, you will go insane. Really. Try it.
Dark Lording is just an occupation where you have to be a bit more mean than usual, but often only for short periods, because of the heroes.
So Felix decided to follow his dark side. He was a Dark Lord, wasn’t he?
Still, something felt very bad about seeing the goblins take them away to work.
Felix then realised, that if the people hadn’t known he was evil, he hadn’t been a Dark Lord up until now. Only a king, with a taste for black. That made him angry.
“Oh crap”, he thought, “One of these days I’m going to get a split personality.”
He turned to one of the goblins.
-“Tell the orcs to go raid more villages and get the people as slaves. And specifically tell them to say they work for me. By the way, have you seen the sorcerer?”
-“Yes milord, and no, milord.”
-“That is…?”
-“I will tell them that and no, I haven’t seen the sorcerer.”
-“Milord.”
-“What?”
-“You’re supposed to say “milord.”
-“Oh, sorry milord.”
-“No problem.”
Felix hurried up the stairs to the sorcerer’s study.
Nobody there. The window was broken. He looked at the scrolls on the desktop.
One was rolled out. It said “Guarantee for Dark Sorcerer”
On the bottom of it somebody had scribbled a message.

“Mr. Felix,
My guarantee ended yesterday, as you can see, thus I am afraid you cannot ask Dark Necromancy Corp. for replacement. I have left your realm to begin working for a real Dark Lord.
With hate,
             Argyle the Sorcerer”

Felix turned to one of the goblins.
-“His name was Argyle?”
-“Obviously, milord.”
-“Oh. Shame that he left, but we’re pretty rich at the moment, right?”
-“Yes, milord.”
-“Fine. Go hire some more goblins then, please.”
-“Yes, milord.”
-“What are you waiting for?”
-“Take a second look at the date of that guarantee, milord.”
-“Guarantee for Dark Sorcerer, blablabla, very good student, blablabla, blablabla, guarantee ends… Hey! Is that a 5 or a 2?”
-“I believe it’s a 5, milord.”
-“That means there’s three days left on the guarantee!”
-“Yes, milord.”
-“What does it say about the sorcerer deliberately breaking the guarantee… Blablabla, great many spells, blablabla… Here. If the sorcerer breaks the guarantee deliberately, he cannot be replaced by our company. However, you do have a right to reclaim the sorcerer if you find him again before the guarantee period ends. This means the sorcerer must return to you and, as a punishment of this horrible crime against our rules, work for you for another year after the guarantee period ends.”
-“What are your orders, milord?”
-“Find him.”
-“Why not just hire a new one? He’s not a very good one, you know.”
-“Have you got any idea of tge price of a sorcerer, goblin?”
-“No.”
-“Then find him. A free sorcerer for one year… That sure is good.”
-“Yes, milord.”
Felix sat down. Work, work, work.
He’d had no idea Dark Lording was so much decisions.
And all this money and business. He was no salesman, he was a Dark Lord.
The emporium strikes back.

Grashnik had chosen to split the troops, since none of the townsfolk ever fought back. They just screamed and ran around when the orcs came, no matter how many. Grashnik had found that one orc or a hundred didn’t make any difference – people were scared anyway.
So it was not a large troop of orcs that was sneaking through the Dribble Forest.
About fifty orcs, armed and camouflaged, stalking forwards. They could see the village from where they were now.
When they reached the very end of the forest, with just a couple of trees left, they halted.
It wasn’t very good camouflage, and anyone looking in their direction would discover them at once.
They looked exactly like orcs wearing silly disguises. One thing prevented them from being discovered. Namely the fact that most people do not see things if they do not think they exist. Many people saw the orcs, but nobody wanted to be the fool who suddenly shouted “Hey, there’s orcs there!” just to prove it was all in his imagination.
Jurglarr didn’t see the orcs, since he was in one of the houses at the moment, but he smelled them. You don’t have to be a goblin to sense the smell of an orc.
The smell is quite hard to describe, but those who had managed best said it was “Like a badly wounded fox, which had fought a skunk and lost, and then tried to roll in a compost heap to get rid of the smell”.
You could have thought that the water of Dribble Forest would have washed some of the smell away, but it hadn’t. These orcs smelled like described above, only that the fox was now wet as well.
Jurglarr stepped outside. He signalled for the orcs to wait, then ran away into the village.
The orcs looked at each other, trying to calculate what to do next.
Since there didn’t seem to be anything else to do, they waited.
Jurglarr ran at the top of his speed, shouting.
-“Thor, Thor! Orcs! O Thor, orcs!”
Thor was eating when Jurglarr found him.
-“Thor, there’s orcs here! I don’t think I can keep them waiting much longer!”
-“What?”
-“Er, I mean, they’re coming to rob these people!”
-“What’s I supposed to do?”
-“Fight them!”
-“Oh. Right, I’ll be right there.”
Thor took a last bite of the pork chop he’d been eating, then threw it away.
He slowly raised, and drew his sword.
-“Where are they?”
-“I’ll show you.”
They ran towards the orcs, Thor waving his sword and Jurglarr weaving through the crowd that was staring at the orcs. One man cleared his throat and said:
-“Isn’t that an interesting pattern in the woods? “
Mumbling, the crowd agreed.
-“Em, it looks just like a horde of orcs.”
The man was obviously embarrassed.
-“Not that it is a horde of orcs, of course, anyone thinking that would have to have quite an imagination.”
Agreements from the crowd.
-“Funny how your eyes can fool you. I just thought that one moved, heh, but it can’t, it’s just a… a tree.”
-“Yes, that one looks like he just drew a sword, and…”
Thor and Jurglarr finally got through the crowd.
-“Look, now more of them are drawing swords!”
-“Don’t be ridiculous! That’s only a figment of your imagination, you know.”
-“Yes, of course, but…”
The orcs charged.
Thor quickly chopped at one with his sword, then ducked, rolled over, and kicked another one.
-“They’re not for real, you know, just a mass hallucination. No need to be afraid, they can’t harm any…”
The man was quickly interrupted by a sword. On the other end of it was an orc. A real orc.
Finally, the crowd came to think of other things to do than to stand here watching mass hallucinations. They ran, leaving Thor and Jurglarr alone with the orcs.

Orcs alive smell bad enough. Nobody should have to experience the smell of dead ones.
Jurglarr was being sick. It had been quite a short fight, but they had won.
He glared at the remains of the orcs.
-“We will have to bury these”, Thor said.
-“Let the villagers do that. You must defeat Lord Felix.”
-“Why?”
-“He sent these orcs!”
-“How do you know it was him?”
-“He’s a Dark Lord!”
-“I thought you said he only had goblins.”
-“Only goblins and orcs, I meant.”
-“Oh. But these orcs are dead now, they’re not dangerous anymore.”
-“There’ll be more.”
-“Wouldn’t the best thing to do to stay here and defend the village, then?”
-“Um, no…”
-“Why?”
Jurglarr was about to panic. No hero had ever said so before, but sure, it was true. If people keep attacking you, the wisest thing to do is defend yourself until they give up.
-“Because… It’s magic. Yes. He summons more orcs with his magical spells, so there’ll just be more of them if you don’t smite him.”
-“You didn’t tell me he could do magic!”
-“Oh but he can, trust me.”
-“All right then.”
Jurglarr sighed in relief. That was close.
-“I’ll just pack my stuff.”
-“No time for that, you have everything you need, come now.”
Jurglarr grabbed Thor’s arm and pulled it, strongly resembling a child trying to make his father follow him to the toy shop. Thor ignored him, and instead began walking back to his house.
-“We’re in a hurry, Thor!”
-“Are we?”
-“Yes we are!”
-“Why?”
-“Can you please stop saying “Why” every time I tell you to do something? It’s annoying!”
-“Why?”
-“Just knock it off, will you?”
-“So be it, but let me pack my stuff first.”
-“All right, all right.”
The hero and the goblin entered Thor’s house. It was just like most other houses in the town, built of timber with a thatched roof. The difference from the other houses were that Thor had made it all by himself. He’d chopped down some trees and then piled them on each other.
This fact gave Jurglarr an uneasy feeling about it, since he’d discovered the logs started to glide if you only so much as touched the walls. The entire building simply was a collapse that had not yet happened.
Thor didn’t seem to care much about the danger of living in such a house which was because, Jurglarr thought, that if the house collapsed with Thor in it the logs would simply break when they hit him.
Thor’s “stuff” that he had to pack proved to be nothing else than a big, brown book which seemed familiar to Jurglarr in a curious way. He peered at it. It was titled “Heroism for dummies”.
Lord Felix had an identical book, except that his was named “Dark Lording for dummies.”
Both books were written by the same guy.
Jurglarr started to see how it all worked. It’s not a question of good vs. evil, it’s money vs. no money.
-“How long have you been reading that?” he asked.
-“I can’t read. I just look at the pictures.”
Thor opened the book revealing a picture of a stick figure beating up another stick figure with something that looked like a third stick figure. The chapter was named “Weapons and other things that can be used to effectively kill someone”.
They began their journey.

Dribble forest!
As dark as a Dark Lord’s castle, as cold as a grave and as pleasant as a wet sock.
Jurglarr knew it as he knew his home. In fact, Dribble Forest was his home.
Or at least it had been, before he started working for Lord Felix. The muddy track going through it was the only sign of civilisation, the rest was just dense, dark, wet forest.
Jurglarr remembered the days when the goblin tribe had lived here. It had been wonderful. It had been happy days.
Oh, who the heck am I trying to fool? If anyone really thinks Jurglarr was happier in a wet, cold forest than in the warm castle of Lord Felix, that person might as well stop reading now, because any such person probably won’t like the rest of this anyway.
No sane being could love Dribble Forest. Perhaps some fitness freak who believed in the saying “What does not kill you makes you stronger”.
Which is, I may point out, completely wrong. You do not die nor do you get any stronger if you, for example, put a paper hat on your head and shout “I am a piece of toast” while playing a toy piano (Though people will think you’re a weirdo if you try).
Jurglarr and Thor were riding. They had forgot to get a horse when they first left, which was quite embarrassing, especially when they came back five minutes after their departure asking for a horse.
It had been quite a good horse. But carrying Thor had made it kind of tired, and now it looked more like a sack with legs than a horse.
Thor was still reading, or rather, looking at the pictures.
Jurglarr listened. He thought he could hear some sort of moaning sound, but he couldn’t figure out from where it came.
It was probably something the sorcerer had made up.
They had been riding in silence. The only sound heard was the splashing sound of the horse walking in the mud and the occasional swishing sound of Thor practicing a difficult swing with the sword.
-“Thor?”
-“Yes?”
-“Would you mind not swinging your sword so awfully close to me?”
-“Sorry.”
And then silence.
There it was again, that moaning sound. Jurglarr couldn’t remember any of Lord Felix’ servants sounding like that. Except perhaps the troll, but this sounded more whining, as if the moaner was experiencing pain.
Thor appeared to hear it as well. He ceased reading and looked around.
-“What was that?”
-“I don’t know.”
They were silent again.
This was beginning to feel creepy. Just to break the silence, Jurglarr spoke again.
-“Where did you get that sword?”
-“I bought it from my cousin.”
-“Where did he get it from?”
-“I don’t know.”
Suddenly the moaning sound was there again, much louder this time. Jurglarr thought he could hear it saying something like “Don’t know…”
-“Do you think it’s a good sword?”
-“Oh yes. Very good. My cousin said it was magical, but I don’t know…”
This time the moaning sounded as if it was only a few yards away, but it was still very hard to determine from which way it came.
They halted.
-“You said you knew this forest, Jurglarr.”
-“Yes I do.”
-“What is that moaning?”
-“I’m afraid I don’t…”
-“KNOOOW!”
They both heard the moaning finishing Jurglarr’s sentence. At the same time, they watched with horror as something they thought was a rock started to move. It stood up.
It was taller than Thor, but with the same proportions. It was all covered in mud and looked like it had recently consumed a tree. On its head was some kind of large, feathery hat. It carried an axe, and it seemed to be angry.
Both Jurglarr and Thor were almost paralysed with fear as they watched it raise a hand.
It scratched its head, then mumbled something. Then it looked around, and Thor and Jurglarr found out they had only looked at its back. As it turned towards them, they saw and eagle’s head attached to the feathers but not much more, since it was all covered in mud.
Jurglarr cleared his throat.
-“Who, or what, are you?”
It mumbled something again, a movement hardly visible somewhere in the mud.
-“So, Mr. Mplh-hb-Ouh, what were you doing on the road?”
The thing brought its hand to the place were the face probably was, and wiped some of the mud away.
Jurglarr recognised the face.
-“I asked where I was, silly, um, goblin…”, it said.
Thor, having seen that this was nothing else than a large and very muddy man, finally moved.
He tried to draw his sword, then remembered he was already holding it and prepared to attack.
This made the mud-man upset. He prepared to attack.
Jurglarr stopped them in time.
-“There there, it is completely unnecessary to waste your powers on each other, gentlemen.”
They both looked as though they were definitely no gentlemen but indeed very hostile.
Jurglarr slowly backed away from them.
-“Be nice to each other now.”
Jurglarr sounded desperate.
-“I don’t want to see you raise your weapons again, understood?”
-“This is a monster! I should kill those of Lord Felix, you said so!”
-“Don’t speak bad of Lord Felix!”
Thor raised his sword and attacked, just to find out he didn’t have any sword.
The mud-man smiled, and raised his axe.
The only problem was that he didn’t have an axe.
They looked sheepishly at each other.
-“Thief!”
-“Liar!”
Thor made a very nice looking jump and landed on the mud-man. They both fell over and started wrestling and fighting in the mud.
Meanwhile, Jurglarr examined the sword.
It looked as though it was made out of silver, but that would be impossible. You can’t make swords out of silver. The hilt was blue or green, it was quite hard to see, and there appeared to be something written on it.
It was a delicate weapon, much more beautiful than the crude axe he was sitting on.
As everyone knows, goblins make quite good thieves.
“I wonder how he got that feathery thing”, Jurglarr thought.
“He certainly didn’t have it back at the castle.”
It was certainly not anything trolls used to wear.
He watched it. It was about goblin-sized, and looked like an eagle trying to be a human, or possibly the other way around. The troll had dropped it, so he got closer and watched it.
As he touched it, he could feel it was still warm.
He held his ear to the place where he assumed the heart was. It was still beating, but faintly.
The troll’s hat was alive?
Jurglarr decided they all needed to talk.
He took the sword, resolutely walked to the wrestlers and hit Thor over the head with the hilt.