Elf and Bear: The Retching Wretch

Suddenly he retched and spewed a mouthful of stew out back into the ladle.  He turned to the sickened Thornbriar and roared, tossing the goop back into the pot.

“This stuff is terrible!  I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson, pointy-ears.”

Fleshbag began loosening a coiled leather whip from his belt.  “You’ll not serve me such muck again.”

“You didn’t give me enough time,” pleaded Thornbriar.  “If you’ll just be patient while it cooks…”

“My patience has run out, elf,” sneered the goblin. “You had plenty of time.  But you’re a sluggard.  Well, a few licks of the lash will make you go fast enough.”

He flicked the whip around in wicked little circles, then gave it a preliminary crack.  “This will cure your laziness!”  He raised the whip back to strike and Thornbriar cringed.

The blow never fell.

With a roar that shook the trees and shattered the night air Bear came leaping down the ravine into the middle of the goblin camp.  His landing seemed to shake the earth.  The whip fell from Fleshbag’s suddenly limp fingers and his jaw dropped in his bloodless face.  The bear sent goblins crashing left and right with mighty swipes of his paw as he bore down straight toward the goblin leader and Thornbriar.

Fleshbag drew out his sword with a shaking hand, but before he could use it, Bear knocked it upward with a blow of his paw. It went spinning through the air and landed with a “thunk” in the trunk of a tree.  The goblin looked from where the blade hung quivering back into the red eyes and three-inch fangs snarling a foot from his face.

Flehbag’s mouth worked as if he were trying to say something, anything, that could save his hide.  Bear thrust his snout forward and roared, a great full-throated bellow that sprayed the goblin and revealed even more teeth and a bright red gullet.  Fleshbag’s eyes rolled up in his head, and with a whimper he buckled to the ground.  As the goblin fainted, Bear reached forward and plucked the elf’s pointed blue hat from Fleshbag’s head before he hit the earth.

Bear handed Thornbriar his hat.  “Come on,” he said.  He looked around at the band of the groaning goblins.  “Let’s get out of here.”

“Just a moment.”

The elf adjusted his hat, then turned to the greasy cauldron.  Using the ladle he tipped its rim until the stomach-turning slop inside poured out, spilling everywhere and dousing the fire.  He gave a satisfied nod.  “Now let’s go.”