A Goblin's Tale
The heroic story of a mentally unstable goblin's journey across the mysterious land of Endaul.
Our journey so far
Glubtek awakes in a campsite an hour's walk from Jeragstead. He crawls out of his tent in search of answers, but finds nothing but a dusty old crate. Inside he finds supplies and a book of tomes, which he immediately makes an addition to. "The Violating Volatile Vomit Rocket. Perfect." He says. The goblin steps back. He heaves and sputters, and not a moment sooner, violently vomits acid across the campsite.
Glubtek cooks the raw slab of meat he found in the crate and sets off for the castle. He runs into a cyclops, but he's no match for the Violating Volatile Vomit Rocket. The goblin takes the giant's hand and rips a finger from it and turns it into a staff. He also takes the cyclops's loincloth and turns it into a cowl. Night has fallen, and the castle is still a long way away. After a couple more hours of walking, Glubtek finally makes it to the front door. He tries to vomit, but the effort is wasted. He considers digging the castle into the ground, but that would take too much time. The only other option is knocking.
Knock, knock, knock. An elderly man's voice calls from behind the castle door, "To enter my castle you must first pass the test of the wicked." He continues, "Come closer." The curious goblin strides closer to the door and a hatch pops from it. A wrinkly decrepit arm emerges from the darkness. "To pass the test you must... Pull my finger." The old man extends his finger.
I know things like this never go well, but oh well. The only thing I ask is that you try not to be completely handicapped.
This is you, sadly. You've woken up at some campsite, and you have no memory of events prior. All you know is that you're going to need a name, but what should it be?