Elf and Bear: Toil and Trouble

The goblins ganged up around Thornbriar as he was led away, gabbling and poking at him and turning out his pockets to see if he had anything they could steal.  Pigbottom pulled him along and threw him down roughly next to a grimy black cauldron perched on top of a clumsily piled stone fire-pit.

Thornbriar looked around for a way to escape, but the walls of the dry creek were steep and towered on either side.  The goblins had stacked vast tangles of brushwood at either end to wall in their camp, and in the middle the campfire burned, casting light into every corner.  Even if he could have gotten away, he found the leg-irons made it impossible to takes steps of more than a foot.  He would never be able to outrun the gang of goblins.

Now began a horrible time.  The goblin Gimpy brought him some bats to skin, and Pigbottom showed him the grimy sacks full of skunk cabbage and toadstools to chop up and put in the murky water in the cauldron.  There were other vile ingredients to poor elf had to prepare and put in the pot.  Many of these would kill any human in seven seconds, but goblins find them delicious.

Especially maddening was the way the goblins gathered around to prod and criticize the way he was doing things.  For while all goblins are lazy and dirty and never do any work if they can help it, they love to find fault with others and nag incessantly.

By the time Thornbriar had the cauldron full and simmering on the fire, he was pouring sweat even in the chill night air and felt sore with the pinches and pushes from his captors.  The thick goop had only started to bubble a little when Captain Fleshbag awoke with a snort and jumped to his feet.

“I’m ready to eat,” he announced.  “Let’s see how you did, elf.”

He strode over to the pot and grabbed the ladle.  The goblin leader stirred the steaming mess a few times and then scooped out a heaping load and sniffed it.

“Smelly,” he grunted approvingly.  He brought the ladle to his lips and began slurping it loudly.