"My son, ya gots two things; yer fists and yer balls. Use em"
-- Wimp, father of Imp
While I wouldn't say my father was the wisest man on Arda, he had
a certain wisdom that comes from experience. Perhaps, with him,
that experience was getting beat up on a regular basis by bigger,
hungrier orcs, but nonetheless, his wisdom was a great part of my youth.
It was this comment that came to mind as I ventured into a widely-known
burrow off the Misty Mountain path. Just west of where the river turns
north, and you cross a bridge, there's a footpath that leads towards the
foulest smelling caves in these parts. The stinky and groveling goblins
there like to keep their hole covered with a large boulder. I suppose
they've been picked on so much, they've grown wary.
Now, most goblins, I don't have a problem with. But these slobbering dolts
are far too rich for the little effort they make in the name of the Dark One.
They prey off the weak along the road no doubt.
They've built a nice little cave system, and they're quite proud of it.
The leader of this rabble has even hired some larger goblins to protect
him. He's obviously found some traitorous merchant; those buggers are so
well equipped, it's a wonder they aren't knocking on our gates demanding
our tribute.
I entered, and a nasty little punk cowered at my feet. Eyeing his purse
I whacked him good. He flew into the side of the cavern wall. He let out
such a loud shout, I was sure half of Rivendell heard him! I took me a
few short swipes to finish him off, and I picked up his coins. Five silver
ain't bad for a few seconds of whackin'.
A couple of the warriors showed up and I had a real fight on my hands.
These guys could really bash. One of them set upon me while the other
rammed me with his shield. It had to throw one off me while I struck
the other with my morningstar.
It wasn't pleasant, and I had been cut far more than I anticipated.
Without being able to bash these mugs wouldn't last a couple of rounds
with me.
A met a few of the cowering goblins around there, who screamed like
hobbits when you hit em. These kids were rich, but what they had in
wealth they lacked in brawn.
Climbing through the passages of the burrow, I was suprised by pairs
of these warriors a few times. By the 4th group, I was in serious trouble.
It's at that time an orc earns his reputation. You gots balls or ya got
smalls. I finally figured out that by timing my bashes, I could throw
one off me before the other could stand. This way, I fought only one
at a time. The fights lasted my longer, and I was worn thin, but it
worked rather well. At this point I wouldn't have been able to simply
fight tow of them at once. They had quality blades and strong shields.
I even found a nice wall shield made of wood.
Finally, I found the leader. He retained 2 or 3 bodyguards who set on
me before I realized I had stumbled into this arrogant turd's self-
declared throne room. I was forced to retreat.
I tried several times to make a strategy to best them, but I was forced
to run away every time. Luckily, the greedy bastard wouldn't leave sight
of his little throne so running away was quite simple.
I was ready to leave and go home, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
Spinning I started to strike "it" when I realized my cousin, Phy, had
just pranked me. He could melt into any shadow.
I told him how I had tried to take on this goblin, and been beaten.
"Step back, I'll show ya a few tricks" he said.
With that, Phy slipped into the throne room. Seconds later I heard a cry
and Phy ran into the room. Curses could be heard from beyond. Grinning, Phy
jumped in again. A second cry of pain and again Phy ran into the room.
We then made short work of the leader. He was quite a warrior. But he had
a sinister scimitar and a metal wall shield, without which I'm sure he would
have been quicker to fall.
Phy and I split our earnings when we got back to the caves. We had enough
equipment to hold a small auction. Kormock even wanted the fancy scimitar.
In all I was at least 10 gold coins richer. And hey, I had liberated our
mountains of some worthless weaklings. And by the way, green-skinned
goblins taste funny... don't try it.
- Imp the curious orc
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