Gorp: Goblin Janitor

By Jon Ray

Gorp the goblin is fleeing his lands in search of better employment. With only a cloth map to guide him, he sets out across the sea to secure work at Ye Olde Dungeon working for the sinister Dungeon Overlord Jamalin Spellslinger. Once there, along with a group of misfit monsters, Gorp is hired on as a janitor to clean up the messes left behind by the horde of fortune, glory, and treasure seeking adventurers. But all is not well within the dungeon as the Red Dragon has ideas and an agenda of his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365978425

Book preview

Gorp: Goblin Janitor

Gorp: Goblin Janitor

Jon Ray

Book Cover by – Simon Tjong

Maps & Illustrations by – Jon Ray

Map of the Kingdom

Dedication

Dedicated to my father Ruben L. Ray,

who passed away too soon

and never got to see his son become

the fantasy author am I today.

Copyright © 2018 by Jon Ray

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2017

ISBN 978-1-365-97842-5

LJR Publishing

PO Box 395

Menai Central, NSW 2234 Australia

www.jonray.net

Chapter 1 - Help Wanted

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A small bump on the horizon grew over the dark rolling waters of the Sea of Hope. Rats scurried along the masts of the ship and the railing in anticipation of making landfall. Creaks in the wood planks below could be heard groaning as the ship turned facing into the oncoming waves while the rudder turned to set course for Port Seaward. Gorp, standing on mid-deck, reached into his tattered brown cloak, and pulled out a ragged piece of cloth parchment. Crudely scribbled at the top were the words Help Wanted.

Below that was a map of Port Seaward with trailing dashes going off into the northeast towards the town of Shirewood and then on to end at a mountain with a cave at the bottom called, Ye Olde Dungeon. Gorp could now see the high walls of Port Seaward towering above the sea and land below. Being one of the largest cities in the kingdom, it held most the population. Outside the walls on the other side of the main road was the makeshift City of Tents. Although from the looks of it, not all the structures were tents, Gorp did see many colors of fabric flapping in the wind as they blew over the tent tops out into the sea towards the southeast. That area would also be his destination, as he was warned before that his kind was not welcomed within the walls of Port Seaward itself. Pulling the cloak’s hood over his head to hide his green pointy ears and nose, he made his way down below to retrieve the rest of his belongings.

As the ship came around to dock at the port made up of wooden posts and planks, Gorp surveyed for any port authorities which might give him cause for caution. Luckily, arriving this late in the day provided only the random guard to avoid. No one would be asking him questions or his business today and of that he was glad. One of the sailors hoisted up a gangplank to reach the dock as passengers slowly made their way up onto the landing, quickly disappearing among the crowds. Gorp joined them and slowly made his way towards the City of Tents area. As he walked through the crowds, he noticed mostly humans and dwarves, with the occasional tattooed wild elf. If there were any nobility around, they were not to be seen here. Most of the people appeared to be common class folk mixed with adventurers of all types and races. He followed no road or path in particular, walking generally to the eastern part of the city where solid structures stood. After a brief walk up a hill, he arrived at the local market square. Here, all sorts of wares and goods were offered. He noted a few farmers stands, a tent selling exotic spices, a booth with a dwarf who juggled iron balls and danced for payments of beer, and a place called Trader’s Meadow, which appeared to have a knick knack assortment of items for sell and trade. Gorp eventually made his way to a wooden structure establishment called The Dew Drop Tavern. Here a minstrel playing a lute sat on a tree stump outside the leather hide door strumming soft melodies which enticed those within listening distance to stop and give pause. Gorp decided this place might as well serve as good a place as any for a warm meal and ale to drink before embarking on his trip inland to Shirewood.

Upon entering the tavern, Gorp’s eyes quickly adjusted to a dim lit area made up of plaster walls and open timber ceilings. The first thing that he noticed was the strong smell of incense clouding the doorway where he stood. Past the doorway he could see various wooden chairs, benches, and tables. At each table was a candle or two held in place by copper candleholders shaped like honeysuckle flowers. Most of the patrons here looked like the adventuring traveler sorts, so Gorp fit right in. As he made his way towards the bar at the back from the entrance, he could now make out a cobblestone fireplace, poked by a dwarf drinking a bottle of whiskey and talking about the good ole days. Half the tables were full, so it appeared to be a somewhat popular hangout. Because of the low lighting, this would make a great place to hang low till he could find a ride out of town, he thought to himself. As he approached the bar he could now see a medium tapestry hanging in the center of the back-bar wall. On it was a scenic valley landscape with majestic snowcapped mountains, green pines, curvy hills, and in the forefront of the scene was a single honeydew plant with the fruit sliced open, the sun just peeking over the mountain tops caused the juices from the honeydew to shine in the morning light. Above the bar, lit by multiple ironwork lamps was a brass cage and inside the cage danced a young fairy girl. She didn’t look happy to be there, but it appeared being locked up in the cage was not her idea in the first place.

What’ya have? asked the barkeep.

Ale, some cheese and bread, Gorp replied.

Gorp could now make out the old human behind the bar as he poured a clay mug full of ale from the wooden tankard laid on its side near the bar.

A gold coin, barked the bartender.

Gorp reached within a hidden pocket of his worn cloak and produced a small shiny golden coin with no distinguishable marks on either side.

The bartender motioned for Gorp to have a seat at a table and said, The wench will bring ya your food, have a seat.

He took a seat at a nearby table in plain view of the fairy dancer. Looking around the place he saw other shady looking characters, which appeared to be either assassins or pick pockets by the way they watched his every move. Barrels were placed here and there, some used as makeshift tables, others appear to have been broken wide open in some sort of tavern brawl. A single small window over the doorway he had not seen before coming in, was covered in ironwork circles allowing natural light to enter only halfway into the tavern. From a back doorway from which fresh herbs hung to dry, a human serving girl appeared with a plate upon which sat a small block of cheese and half a loaf of stale bread. She looked to the barkeep who motioned towards where Gorp sat.

Here ya are, she chimed, placing the plate next to his ale.

Gorp nodded and took a sip from his mug. As he sliced a piece of cheese from the block and laid it on a slice of bread, he noticed that the fairy stopped dancing and sat at the bottom of the cage with her legs hanging out for a rest. As he took a bite, he watched the barkeep reach up and rattle the cage. The fairy jumped up and began dancing faster than before with her wings flapping, legs kicking wildly in no general direction and arms flailing out to her sides is circular motions. As cruel as it may have been, Gorp rather enjoyed the light entertainment. The hood of the cloak covered his grim smile as he sat watching. The drunken dwarf that up till now had kept his peace next to the fireplace had apparently run out of whiskey. This caused him to give chase towards finding more. Gorp watched from his table as the dwarf wandered over to an empty table and lifted the mugs to see if anyone had left any for him.

Of course not, he grumbled, shaking the mug upside down and peering up into the black empty cavity. Tossing the empty mug back up onto the table he looked down at his feet for some reason then up at the ceiling rafters and shrugged.

Danyo pie in a bucket! yelled a man from the corner of the room, startling Gorp.

That’s my final win of the evening gentlemen and with that I bid you good eve, a man with a low top wide brim hat said as he stood from the table.

The men who he referred to were anything but gentlemen, more like ruffians Gorp thought to himself. As the man turned to leave one of the men he had been playing dice with, reached for the dagger at his side and began to stand. The other man sitting at his side placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and forced him back into his seat. He then whispered something to the man who held the dagger still gripped in hand and motioned to the side with his head. The other man quickly nodded and chuckled. They waited for the man with a hat to leave and then proceeded to quickly follow him outside the bar.

Thump! the table from which Gorp sat moved on its own accord. Or so Gorp had thought until he realized that the drunken dwarf has stumped his boot on the leg to his table. Instead of offering an apology as Gorp had expected, the dwarf launched into a full angry tirade at the very table itself. Gorp looked amazed at the name calling the dwarf delivered upon the table with no sign of backing down and accused the table of trying to attack him.

Go away friend, Gorp suggested to the dwarf as he waved him to pass on by.

The dwarf was shocked from this action, then accused Gorp of siding with the table and attempted to swat at him. Gorp not wanting to attract attention or blow his cover grabbed his belongings from under the table and stood to leave. As he turned to make his way towards the tavern entrance, the dwarf grabbed at his cloak barely catching the hood.

Come’errr ya bastard! the dwarf yell as he pulled back on the hood. At once the entire tavern grew silent as two green pointy ears and a long green nose protruded from under the hood. He’s a goblin damn blasted! the dwarf yell as he stood there mouth gapped and a finger pointed toward Gorp.

Gorp quickly kicked the dwarf in the knee cap causing him to fall over to his side. With no one else making a move, Gorp ran for the entrance. The barkeep knocked a bolt into a crossbow hidden behind the bar and took aim. Just as Gorp made his way outside the leather covered doorway he heard a loud thud in the beam next to him. A shiny steel bolt dug itself deep into the wood just about the height that his head was a few moments ago. Now exposed to the torch lit street outside, he hastily pulled his cloak’s hood back over his head to hide his identity. Cursing and sounds of men arming themselves could be heard coming from inside the tavern. Gorp looked around. No one had noticed him coming from the tavern. He quickly made a dash back down to the main road he had traveled on earlier. Running past a nearby alleyway, Gorp looked just long enough to make out the man from the tavern with the wide brim hat, slumped over an overturned barrel with multiple stab wounds covering his back. Gorp desperately needed a way out of town now and fast. He knew the men from the tavern would soon be searching the streets for him and most likely alert the local guards to his presence.

As Gorp rounded a corner onto the main road, a wagon carrying barrels passed him by. Swiftly and without making himself noticed, Gorp chased the wagon down and climbed into the back, hiding under an empty grain sack lying on the wagon floor. The wagon under heavy weight of the barrels tied together slowly rolled along the main town cobblestone road and then northward towards Shirewood. As the cobblestone road ended and turned into hard packed dirt, Gorp looked out from under the sack. Off in the distance he could barely make out the torch lit walls of Whitestone Castle, perched high upon a hill overlooking Port Seaward to the south below. What good fortune Gorp thought to himself as the muscles in his body began to relax. He crawled out from under the sack and laid on his back to admire the stars above in the night sky. The moon was only a sliver, which aided him in his hiding from the human merchant at the reigns. All was safe for now, he would just shut his eyes and rest until the wagon stopped or he reached Shirewood. All the recent excitement from the ship ride to the close call at the tavern had suddenly made him tired. His eyes slowly closed as his mind drifted off to slumber and dreams of happier places.

Chapter 2 - Shirewood

The gentle roll of the wagon came to an abrupt halt. Gorp’s head crashed into the wooden side of the wagon, which jarred him into a dazed state. A candle that sat in a lantern attached to a pole at the front of the wagon also fell out of its holder still lit, into the back of the wagon. That was much too hard a stop for the arrival in Shirewood. Not wanting to be discovered, he quickly climbed into the grain sack and laid motionless like a sack of potatoes. As he hid, an odd brown ball rolled out of the sack Gorp was carrying and next to the open flame of the candle. Gorp peeked from under the grain sack to see lit torches appear out of the darkness of the trees on both sides of the road. Human bandits with their faces painted in an assortment of black and blue swirls carried the torches. Of those who did not carry torches wielded bows instead, each with an arrow notched at the ready. A leader of the pack emerged carrying a longsword and approached the merchant