Barbarian Legends - Goblinslayer 03

**********

Girn woke from a tingling sensation. After the intense session that night, he had fallen asleep with Mina, Ruby, and Topaz all partially on top of him. He looked at the window and saw a bleak ray of sunshine pass through the blinds.

The sensation continued and was localised around his loins. Lifting his head, he found Topaz taking his morning wood in her mouth, lips tightly stretched around his wide girth. He smiled and enjoyed the sight while she was still unaware of his attention. Topaz tucked her blond locks behind her ears to keep them from interfering and pushed herself down. Girn felt his tip nestle at the edge of her throat. He deliberately moaned softly, startling Topaz.

"Oh, sorry I woke you, Girn," she apologised. "I had a bad dream. Those monsters were in our room and... You were already hard and it's just... so big."

"Sshhh," Girn soothed her. "Don't worry. You're safe with me." Topaz smiled slightly, more at ease. "And don't apologise. In fact, never apologise when your lovely lips are sending such sensations through me."

Topaz' smile widened and she jokingly said, "Well, then I take it back. Now, where was I?" She dove back down and engulfed his cock.

"What's going on?" Mina asked groggily, peering through tired eyes.

"Is it morning already?" Ruby asked in the same manner.

Both their small eyes widened as they heard the wet noises and then noticed Topaz sucking his cock.

"Want to start the day well and good by repeating the night's events?" Girn proposed. Nothing else was said as the three women positioned themselves around his crotch and his large cock prevented them to speak.

After a good while, they each rode him like it was a competition to cum the most on his large cock. From Ruby's small tits to Mina's large breasts, they all jiggled and bounced freely. Then they got on all fours in a row and Girn fucked them from behind from left to right and from right to left. When they were all sweaty from the intense pounding, Girn motioned them to their knees and pushed their faces together before shooting his load. Thick ropes of cum covered their faces. Afterwards, Mina, Ruby, and Topaz kissed each other intensely while Girn's cum mingled between their tongues and lips. Finally, Topaz had gathered a mouthful of cum and swallowed, sticking her tongue out to show every last drop was gone.

**********

Tix Gur huddled in his preferred hiding place, a small cave nestled above a lengthy, narrow passageway, distant from the bustling main caverns. His mind churned with anxiety, a characteristic trait of a goblin with a naturally nervous disposition. He understood the urgency of his situation: he had mere days to fulfil his promise of eliminating the barbarian who had disgraced Skrag Nrak. Failure would result in a fate akin to that of the messenger from Goblingard.

He trembled at the thought of that demonstration of the shaman's formidable power. The magic wielded by Utkut was undeniably terrifying. Despite knowing that hiding would offer no refuge, as the shaman would inevitably locate him no matter how deeply he concealed himself, old instincts persisted within Tix. From his earliest days as a small, insignificant runt, he had instinctively sought refuge in hidden places during times of trouble. There, he would observe the larger goblins and meticulously devise plans for revenge.

Deep within him, a simmering rage persisted. Tix harboured an intense desire for vengeance against Utkut, fuelled by the shaman's deliberate targeting of him. The understanding of why he was chosen as Utkut's victim provided little solace. Instinctively, Tix grasped the rationale behind Utkut's decision. From a young age, every goblin learned to discern who should not be provoked and who could be intimidated without consequence. Those who failed to grasp this concept met gruesome ends, often becoming prey for their assailants. Tix comprehended, on some level, that Utkut had singled him out for politically strategic reasons--he was the youngest and least secure among the goblin leaders.

Tix Gur had risen to his current position as a junior warlord in Clan Gur by being the favourite of Gur Gur, and by informing on those who had plotted against his distant cousin. He had a nose for ferreting out information that might be useful, a talent that was more than useful in a society so full of intrigue as that of goblindom. But now Gur Gur himself was dead, and Tix doubted that even his powerful kin would have been able to protect him against the wrath of a shaman. No, he decided more realistically, Gur would not have found him useful enough to be even bothered to try.

It seemed that Tix's promising career was on the brink of ending. He faced two grim possibilities: death at the hands of a barbarian rumoured to evoke fear even in Shaman Utkut, or being obliterated by the shaman's formidable sorcery. Neither option appealed to the ambitions of a young goblin. However, at present, he felt powerless to alter his fate.

Tix heard voices coming from below him. He froze in place, realising that others had sought out this lonely place for their own purposes. He knew it was best to be quiet. He listened carefully with his keen ears, hoping to find out more about the approaching visitors.

"Curse shaman Utkut a thousand times!" He heard a voice that he recognised as belonging to Wrench Claw-Arm. "He has denied me my rightful place as supreme leader of this army. Credit for victory over the humans should rightfully belong to me and, of course, to Clan Arx."

Tix' heartbeat fastened. This was treasonous talk and he was sure that shaman Utkut would like to hear about it. He listened now as if his life depended on it, thinking that he might have found a way out of his predicament, a path on which to creep back into the shaman's good graces.

"Yes, greatest of lords. A fool Utkut is. Perhaps he too could have an accident like warleader Gur Gur!" Tix recognised the shrill voice as belonging to Wrench's henchling, Knob.

"Hush! Silence! Speak not of such things. It has been tried before but somehow accidents always seem to happen to someone else, not to shaman Utkut. Perhaps it is true. Perhaps he is blessed by the favour of the Ever-Hungry!"

"That mechanical explosion should have worked but Utkut has the luck of a daemon."

"Silence! That should also never be spoken about. The communications device malfunctioned. That is all and nothing more. If shaman Utkut was even to suspect that it was anything else, the consequences would be very bad, very bad. How goes the... other plan?"

"Well, greatest of engineers! We have located a hidden route into that humanplace. Our warriors stand ready to grab the devices on your command. Tonight is auspicious. The bumbling humans have all been summoned to a feast by their ruling leader."

Tix felt the soles of his feet tingle. Here was something else to report back to Utkut. A clandestine Clan Arx plot to acquire human treasures. Surely shaman Utkut would offer rewards to those who reported such information to him. He leaned forward cautiously to observe the scene below. The movement dislodged some pebbles and sent them scattering down to the floor. The noise startled the Clan Arx goblins, prompting them into defensive stances. They drew out their blades.

"What was that sound-noise?" Wrench demanded.

"I do not know, bravest of leaders," Knob said.

"Go investigate!"

Tix cursed his bad luck. The noise had interrupted the Arx' plotting and now he might never know what they were up to.

"Most likely it is nothing, wisest of warleaders. Tunnels are old. Rocks come loose."

The two of them stood immobile in postures of listening. Tix hoped they did not look up. He dared not even pull himself back into the shadows lest the movement attract their attention. He felt sure that they would be able to hear the pounding of his heart. Slowly the two nervous Clan Arx goblins relaxed. After a few more heartbeats, they returned to their plotting.

"What are your orders, most cunning of commanders?"

"We will attack the man-things' hoard of mechanisms tonight during the dark of the moon. Their state-of-the-art gun machines must be ours so that we can improve on them. Their steam-chariots must be examined to see how we may increase their effectiveness ten-thousand fold."

"It will be as you wish, most superlative of technicians."

"See that it is so!" Wrench barked and turned his back on Knob to stalk away. Tix could not help but notice that as soon as Wrench's back was turned, his lackey drew his thumb along his throat in the traditional goblin gesture of disrespect. Wrench turned. By the time his leader's eye was upon him, Knob had once again adopted a posture of complete adoration.

"Do not stand there all day. There is much work to be done."

In the darkness, Tix smiled. Indeed there was work to be done. He had learned many useful things here, and it was time to visit the shaman.

**********

"Busy night?" Hans asked, not in the slightest trying to hide his high-spirited smile. "Busy morning?" He added and burst into laughter.

"A gentleman does not fuck and tell," Girn said in an attempt to sound haughty.

Hans' laughter intensified. "A gentleman does not kiss and tell," he wheezed. "That's the saying. But now there's little left to the imagination. I'm quite sure what went on in your room."

At that moment Mina, Ruby, and Topaz descended the stairs. Hans cleared his throat and put on a straight face, nodding politely at all three women. As the girls exited the tavern, Girn could hear them giggling among themselves.

"Lucky man you are," Hans said. "Many can only dream about--"

"About what?" Girn asked.

"Ah, never mind that. I'm lucky to have you here and content that you are happy. The more reason to stay and not search for work elsewhere. Drunken trouble has actually lessened since you walk the common room every night."

"Not interested in work elsewhere. I like it here," Girn said. He accepted a large bowl of porridge and a tankard of ale and broke his fast.

"Speaking of work," Hans began. "I've a small job for you. This letter with delicate financial information needs to find its way to the Guild of Bankers. There's no messenger boy I can trust as much as I can trust you."

"Bah, demoted from bouncer to messenger boy," Girn chuckled. "How the mighty barbarians have fallen. My ancestors are turning in their graves."

"I can find someone else," Hans said. "Don't want to offend your heritage."

"No, no, Hans, I'll do it." Girn sighed. "Not entirely in agreement with my barbarian heritage, but that's a story for another time." Hans respectfully didn't inquire about it further and Girn respected that. "Can I share a secret?" Hans nodded and he leaned in closer, whispering, "One thing I don't regret inheriting is the size of my manhood. You should've seen how I stretched their pussies."

Hans blushed and burst out in laughter again, shaking his head in incredulity. It took a while before he got breathing normally again and calmed down.

"Let me repeat myself, Girn. You're a lucky AND gifted man."

**********

"What do you want?" shaman Utkut inquired, looking up from the scroll which he had been reading. "I thought you went to the surface. To kill the barbarian!"

"No, most potent of sorcerers," Tix Gur replied, adopting the form of address that worked so well for Knob. He understood now its power. Utkut seemed to swell visibly at the flattery. "While rushing to obey your most clever command, I stumbled upon evidence of plotting and knew that only the great Utkut himself would have the intelligence to know how to deal with it."

"Plotting? Explain yourself! Speak!"

Quickly, and leaving out only the details of how he came to be there, Tix outlined what he had overheard. Utkut tilted his head to one side and bared his teeth at the news. When Tix was finished, Utkut glared at him for so long and with such a piercing gaze that Tix feared his time had come and that he was about to be blasted into dust. But the shaman merely licked his lips, and said: "You have done well, Tix Gur. I must consider what you have told me. Hold yourself ready to instantly obey my commands."

"Yes, most shrewd of supreme commanders."

"And Tix."

"Yes, mightiest of shamans?"

"Say nothing of what you have told me, to anyone. On pain of instant and most painful annihilation."

"Yes! Certainly, most merciful of potentates."

**********

Utkut reclined on the throne he had set up in the makeshift command cave, scratching his itching back against the wooden frame before resting his head on his steepled hands. The report from Tix, provided him with much to contemplate. It confirmed his suspicions that the explosion of the communications machine was no accident. Recalling the peril he had narrowly escaped that day, rage and fear churned in Utkut's gut. If Wrench Claw-Arm was stood before him at this moment, Utkut would have unleashed his fury upon him without hesitation.

The news of Wrench's betrayal unsettled him deeply, stirring a tumultuous feeling in his gut. Utkut struggled to regain his composure, recognizing the peril of succumbing to his anger. Yielding to such emotions would only ensure his eventual downfall. He reminded himself that he had ascended to his esteemed position by mastering his impulses. Determined to seek vengeance in a more calculated manner, Utkut resolved to find subtle methods to satisfy his thirst for retribution. He vowed to devise alternative means to retaliate against the treacherous foe for his attempt on Utkut's life.

This new scheme of Wrench's was exactly the sort of thing he would have expected from those machine-obsessed traitors at Clan Arx. Always lusting after new technologies and new machines. Always willing to betray the goblin cause for their own advancement. Always looking for ways to cheat their rightful leader out of his well-deserved share of the credit.

But wait! Was it possible that Tix Gur had concocted this whole thing simply to ingratiate himself with Utkut? The shaman immediately discounted this possibility. Tix was simply too stupid and unimaginative to come up with such a tale. Furthermore, it fitted with reports which Utkut's other spies had brought him, of secret massing of elite Clan Arx troops, of secretive comings and goings in the burrows that Wrench had commandeered for his forces.

Utkut considered the possible outcomes. The engineers were planning on attacking the new Office of Ingenuity, that was obvious. They wanted to acquire advanced machines for themselves. The shaman did not doubt that Wrench could make good on his boast of improving these human weapons a million-fold. He knew that no other race could match goblin genius when it came to constructing machines, and unfortunately, Clan Arx were the most brilliant mechanics of a brilliant race.

These new weapons would doubtless increase Clan Arx' power, perhaps even enough to have Utkut forced back to Goblingard and Claw-Arm awarded the supreme leadership of this army. Such an outcome was unthinkable. But what were his options? He had already decided that Wrench was too powerful and too useful to be destroyed. So what could he do? He could confront Wrench with the knowledge of his treachery. Not good enough. The engineer could simply deny it. And doubtless he would simply find another way forward with his plans to steal the human machines when Utkut's back was turned and his mind occupied with more pressing affairs.

Utkut cursed Wrench. Why did this have to happen now? He should not be using his unchallenged intellect to deal with treacherous underlings. He should be planning the inevitable invasion of the human-city aboveground and the destruction of Girn the barbarian.

But wait! Perhaps this was the key. Perhaps the Ever-Hungry had sent him the means to splatter two puppies with one boulder. A brilliant idea started forming in Utkut's mind. What if he used his two enemies against each other? What if he informed the barbarian of the engineer's attack? Yes! That was it! The senseless oaf would be foolish enough to interfere, and the fact that he was already discredited for his sewerjack roguery, would keep him from informing the stupid human authorities. Doubtless Wrench's plan would be thwarted. They were too stupid ever to work out that they were pawns in Utkut's masterful plot.

If anything went wrong, Utkut's hands would be clean. No one would ever trace the barbarian's intervention back to him, he could ensure that. He turned the scheme over from all sides, finding it fool proof. Either the barbarian would foil the plot or he would be killed trying to do so. If the barbarian foiled Wrench's plan, the engineer would be discredited. In the best of all possible worlds, the two sides would eliminate each other. So cunningly intricate! A true goblin scheme! Once more proof of his own incredible genius.

Now all he had to do was think of a way of letting the barbarian know about Clan Arx' plan. It would have to be subtle. That half-witted fool would never suspect that he was aiding his mightiest enemy.

**********

"Message for you, sir," said the small, grubby faced boy, holding out his hand for payment. In his other hand, he clutched a piece of coarse parchment.

Girn looked down at him and wondered if this was some sort of trick. The beggar lads of Yeledor were particularly known for their ingenuity in parting fools from their money. Still, he might as well pay attention. The lanterns had just been lit. It was early yet, not even a handful of patrons around. And it wouldn't get any busier at the Full Tankard this evening.

"What's this? You do not look like a courier."

"I don't know, sir. This funny-looking gentleman handed me this scrap of paper and a copper penny and told I would get the same again if I delivered it to the tall, muscled bouncer at the Full Tankard."

"Funny-looking?"

"He spoke kind of funny, sir. Looked kind of funny, small for a grown-up. To tell the truth, he also smelled kind of funny."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, his voice wasn't exactly normal. It was kind of gravelly. And he was wearing a robe with a cowl that covered his face. I thought his robes hadn't been washed for a long time. They smelled like... like..."

"Like the sewers?" Girn proposed. He already had an inkling the boy had met a goblin in disguise.

"Yes, exactly like what I would guess those would smell like!"

"Was there anything else you noticed about him?"

"Well, sir, he walked funny, all hunched forward..."

"He was an old man?"

"No, sir, he moved all too quick for an old man. More like one of the crippled beggars you see down on Low Street except he moved too quick to be crippled."

"Now, where did you see this beggar?"

"Down Deadend Alley. Not ten minutes ago. I rushed over here thinking I'd get myself a nice bit of pie with the extra copper piece you was going to give me."

Girn tossed the kid a copper and snatched the piece of parchment from his hand. The handwriting was odd. The letters were formed with jagged edges, more runic than the human alphabet, but the language was definitely common, although poorly composed and spelled. It read: "Barborion -- thee be warned! Goblins of the eevel Clan Arks will attak the Offies of Ingenou-itty this nite when all is dark. They want to steel your pressius sek-rets of war. Stop them or they will conker yoor city."

Was this a trap? Maybe, but the potential threat couldn't be ignored. It was the second night of the Feast of Yuna. There would be no one at the Office. All those smart people would be at the King's feast for their guild. Perhaps he should warn the watch. But to what end? They wouldn't believe he received a note warning him that the Office of Ingenuity would be burgled. He hadn't forgotten the last time he had tried to warn the guards about the goblins. That had been with his sewerjack squad. How he wished they were all here now, he could've used their help.