101(2) by Archie Carrow

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SUMMARY: It is a fact, well known among the human inhabitants of the plains, that goblins are not to be trusted.

Boring Cover Letter
Hello my name is Archie Carrow. This story is from a series of unconnected dark fantasy short stories known as the 100's series. The title of the story indicates the series it belongs to and its chronological place in that series. The story, along with several other stories submitted to other publications, is my first attempt at being published so feedback and comments would be greatly appreciated; feel free to email me at, as I'll probably check this website rarely at best. Anyhow I like the story and I think that you will too.

By Archie Carrow
It is a fact well known among all human inhabitants of the Plains, that goblins are not to be trusted. Certainly some of them are kind after a fashion, even amicable, but in the vast majority of cases this is merely a fašade meant to draw menfolk, as they call mankind, into some sort of trap. It is for this reason that the village of Drodge is located as it is. To one side is the steep flank of the great mountain Itarus and to the other is a cliff with the River Yigen running along its base. The only means of access, convenient access at least is along a trading road which is heavily guarded by the men of that place. Unfortunately goblins can in times of great necessity traverse even the hardest terrain. Presently one who had accomplished just such a feat, having floated down the river and then climbed the cliff was now on the outskirts of the village.
The goblin slithered through the high grass his green skin camouflaging him from the wary eyes of the villagers he hunted. He crawled up behind a rock and peered out over the stony surface into the village below. Ten houses stood grouped in a circle around a church. He had heard the bells ringing from the other side of the mountain. It was those bells which had drawn him and his friends here. He smelled the sweet aroma of menfolk before he saw them. They were hard at work in their fields. It was harvest time and every man, woman and child was out with sickles bringing down the tall leafy spires they had watched grow all summer. He searched through their ranks grimacing at the strong and fit among them. He wanted a lone victim who he could take without attracting the attention of the rest.
At last he found her, she was taking food to the horses far from the fields where the rest of them worked. His immense yellow eyes focused on her with absolute attention. He could almost taste the meal. She was a small one not a particularly good catch but certainly better than any they had had in weeks. He departed from his cover and moved silently closer muttering under his breath as he went.
"Grumgi sees, through the trees, human child, meek and mild, They won't know, where she goes, but I will."
Excitement mounted within his slender frame. He shuddered, brimming over with ecstasy at the thought of snacking on the poor unfortunate.

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