Hero of big hob gob

Izaneus Phortea

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Jekjek move quick among trees, big plan to-night, big big plans, simple plans for big dums, not like jekjek though, jekjek smart, good hero. Better than most gob and even big hob gob.

Jekjek stop among dim bright fire, small big village of gob ahead, too simple for big hero Jekjek. Big pride in small gobs for such small village.

"Come come!! Where big hob gobs??" I spoke, big voice, tall voice, complex voice. "Hob gobs sleep.. Jekjek sleep too.." Spoke simple goblin, too dum! Don't they know? "Don't know? Too big hob gob? Had more grog grog??" I yells, looking 'round. " Where fozz? Fuzzy fozz" everyone know fuzzy fozz, not better than Jekjek though! No one more special than Jekjek. Jekjek mostest specialest

"Fozz like sleep too, why Jekjek no sleep? Jekjek weirdest gob"

Jekjek not weirdest gob, Jekjek smart gob, Leave dum gob, go find other smart gob.

"Jekjek leave" Jekjek find smart gob
 

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Scuttles leaned against a tree, yawning ever-so-subtly. His job was to start the campfire, but who truly cared? The day was hot, and goblins preferred eating raw meat anyway. And yet, here was Scuttles, exhausted out of his mind... with the biggest fire seen in goblin history roaring in front of him. Profusely sweating, Scuttles clawed at his scratchy chin and wiped his brow.

"Job done," Scuttles mumbled to himself.

Borderline getting cooked, Scuttles thought about what his next task was. He was to set up the tents next.

"Job starting."

It took minutes for Scuttles to set up all the tents. The little goblin moved at hyper-speed, jamming spikes into dirt and rope around spikes within seconds. There were to be three tents total. Normally, there should be someone else helping set up camp, but today (and most days) it was just Scuttles.

"This is nice," Scuttles thought to himself, not a care in the world.

Having tossed three tarps over the same tent, Scuttles had left the other two tents completely tarpless. This fact completely escaped his notice.

"Job done."
 

Arthur Morgan

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Fozz was not a smart gob.

In fact, Fozz was the most not smart gob out there—for Jekjek was indubitably the smartest among their kind, the wisest and most quick-witted goblin of them all. Fozz, on the other hand (or Ol’ Fozz, as she liked to be called, in spite of being only a young adult scarcely out of teenhood), was foolish. A doofus. Just plain kringlefuckin’ goofy.

As Jekjek scampered about the village (if it could even really be termed as such, being nothing but a sheer clearing in the jungle dotted with campfires and ramshackle shelters), Fozz was engaged elsewhere.

Namely, and most IMPORTANTLY too, she was engaged in a very deep, spirited discussion with a most dear and trusted friend. Said confidant was a gentleman by the name of Clarence Marrow, who had (unhappily, tragically) lost much of his body to the untamed wilderness of Kraw. Luckily for him, Fozz had managed to rescue him from the unfortunate sticky bog he’d tripped into, oh so many years ago, but alas… There was not much left of poor Clarence to rescue, after the bugs and rot had gotten to him. Only the barren husk of a skull remained, brainless and topped with a slightly scruffy rind of brown hair, which Fozz liked to caress and pet most tenderly sometimes whilst chattering to him.

Mister Clarence was quite fond of Ol’ Fozz… or so Fozz liked to think. Fozz, in turn, was quite fond of Clarence. As such, Fozz carried Clarence everywhere with her, seeing as Clarence had no use of his legs or any such appendages with which to move about on his own. And how fucked up would that be if he did? He was just a skull. Oh my god, can you imagine?

Anyway, Fozz was currently talking to Clarence. Or maybe it was the other way around, she could never be quite certain. His voice meshed with her brain-mush so sweetly, so fluidly, that sometimes, when Fozz felt very tired or particularly angry, she could hear Clarence whispering to her from within the hollowed-out pits of his eye sockets, his dry, loathsome voice burning at her with frigid fire and temptation.

Ol’ Fozz had watched Scuttles rustle about in the shady clearing for a while, setting up their sleeping places among the many other sleeping places of their village. But now she stood stone-still, statuesque, her eyes transfixed by the reddish-yellow flames before her—the little almond-shape beads of crimson glistening as the mighty inferno raged.

“Fozz,” said Clarence, his voice a dull, grating hiss along the inside of her ears. “Cast me into the fire! Free me from this fleshless torment, from this remnant husk of my mortal shell!”

But Fozz merely clutched Clarence closer to her small body, her sharp nails gently rasping over the pale bone surface of his cranium.

Ssshk. Ssshk. Ssshk.

Yes, Fozz was not a smart gob. She didn’t need to be smart when she had Clarence.
 

Izaneus Phortea

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"FOZZ, DINGY" Jekjek yelled lots as he paraded through the half hearted big small village, big tall fire grew high, Dingy wouldn't be at Fire, Fozz would be in bed as dum gob said, Scuttle know where fozz sleep, scuttle work on sleep sheets almost as lots as jekjek yelled. Jekjek yelled lots at dum gobs.

dum gobs were everywhere

ptoo to them

Jekjek run through big small village of small dum hob gobs. Grog low, most gobs not happy with low Grog. They too dum to get more though.

"SCUTTLE" Jekjek yell again, short and fast. Just like jekjek

...

Jekjek tall gob, no one tell Jekjek he short cept Jekjek himself. That how that worked.

I run to the sleepsheets, scuttle there, fixing sheet sleeps. Dum gobs sleep by fire, too warm, sleep sheets just right, dum gobs.

"Scuttle, big plans, where Fozz." Jekjek ask nice. Is Big hob gob Hero after all.

Jekjek ignored, silent Scuttle, Jekjek upset.
"Tell or Jekjek kick sleep sheets." Scuttle speak then. " Don't kick Jekjek." He say in big deep voice.

...

Jekjek kicked
 

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"Why you kick sleep sheets Jekjek?!" Scuttle shouted with a scowl. "You kick two! You kick two!"

Jekjek kicked him again. "Big plans, Scuttle! Where Fozz?"

Never let it be said that Scuttle didn't listen to orders. His nose crinkled and wrinkled as he started sniffing around.

"Job started."

Scuttle suddenly scampered up a tree at an unnaturally high speed. At one point, Scuttle's claw slipped off of the bark, but apparently in fast-motion, Scuttle caught himself before Jekjek could even process that he had slipped off. The little goblin scampered up, moving in a light zigzag, until he disappeared into the leaves.

"Job doing job doing job doing-"

Scuttle's head poked through the leaves. Then, just as suddenly, Scuttle jumped down and landed on top of Fozz. Fozz yelped, tossing up Clarence and almost dropping him in the process. She angrily hissed at Scuttle, bonking him in the head with a stray tree branch. Scuttle, completely unfazed, stared at Fozz with satisfied eyes.

"Job done!" he shouted down to Jekjek, then turned to Fozz. "Jekjek finding you. Jekjek down fire."
 
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Arthur Morgan

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Fozz scowled at Scuttle, scrubbing over the sore spot on her head with her clawed fingers. For such a scrawny goblin, it still hurt when he dropped directly on top of her. He was almost as bony as Clarence! All bones, and not much else.

Grumbling quietly under her breath in a way that was strikingly reminiscent of an irate chihuahua, Fozz decided not to berate Scuttle further (he was just doing a job, after all!) and instead stomped over to Jekjek.

She stood before him, her bright crimson eyes shadowed by the furry orange lining of her jungle cat hood, glinting like bloody rubies in the light of the campfire. While it was definitely annoying how the large fangs jabbed into her forehead at times, wearing the full pelt ensemble certainly added to her intimidation factor.

“What does Jekjek want?!” she demanded, voice full of scorn. “Why does Jekjek drop Scuttle on Fozz!”

Jekjek didn’t appear to be much concerned by her posturing. Quite the contrary—he seemed very much satisfied by all of his fellow goblins paying heed to his words.

“Big plans, Fozz,” declared Jekjek, gesturing with his arms just to demonstrate the sheer immense SCALE of said plans. “Need smart gob for big plans!”

“Do not insult Ol’ Fozz!” Fozz argued, crossing her arms over her chest—incidentally cuddling Clarence against the fish-scale mail of her undershirt. “Fozz is NOT smart gob!”
 

Izaneus Phortea

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"Fozz... not smart?" Jekjek spoke, much confused. " But.. Fozz always talk big smarts..." Deep thought Jekjek was, who squinted his eyes as though he was trying to decipher some great conspiracy.

"You IS smart gob." Jekjek spoke finally, eyes still squinted into thin slits of deep crimson.

Jekjek stay like that, either making sure Fozz couldn't fool him, or making sure Fozz knew She was in fact, smart gob.

Jekjek shook his head fast, as though trying to remind himself of what was to happen.

"Nevermind!! Nevermind! Jekjek found big hoos!! Tall-shanks!" (A term the small goblin society lovingly declared to be humans, either abbreviated to be Hoos, or Tall-shanks, both for obvious reasoning)

" They outside small big village! They resting soon! We beat them up, take their stuff and bring back! We great hob gob hero then!"
 

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"Hooms got them...big snaggin' paws!"

"Hooms got da deepest pants holes!"

Two gobs came quick stepping back into the camp circle, on carrying a basket of fish, one carrying a big-creepler. Leggy thing, like a spider, but made you scream louder. These gobs were named Stank and Frogga. Maybe it was Frogger, but none of the gobs said it proper way.

Anyway.

Stank and Frogga came back to the camp, heard about Jekjek's plans about hooms. That gobbo was piled up with Fozz and Scuttle, and a buncha other gobs were standin' around the idiot pile lookin' at em with mean teeth.

"See 'at Clarence? It's dinner time!" Fozz croaked, scrambling out from under the other two smartest gobs to rip some legs offa the Leggy Thing.

"Where Mudpot?" Jekjek shouted over the rabble of feasting gobbos.

"Lessee...uh...here!" Stank shouted back, yanking a bloody, disembodied arm out of the Leggy Thing's gut sack.

Jekjek clicked his teeth. No good for Mudpot to go and get ate like that. No good for the big hob gob plan at all. He was gonna need all the best gobs, and well, Stank and Frogga weren't that.

"Jekjek got a big hob gob sorta plan, lads. Let 'im tellz ya." Scuttled mumbled over a mouthful of gooey fish.

They let Jekjek tell them, and they said what they thought again.

"Grabbin paws."

"Pants holes."

"That no mean nothin! Think like a hob, you twoz! Sleepin hoomers can't grab ya! Won't squeeze ya!" Jekjek hissed, tweaking Frogga on her nose.

"Ow! Ya grot! I'll show you a hob!" Frogga squealed, before throwing her self onto Jekjek and pulling his hair. Clarence watched the brother and sister squabble and snarl, kickin up dust all over camp.

"Never changin', those grots." Fozz mused, petting the fuzz on Clarence's dome.

Once the fightin' was done, Frogga sucked a fresh bite booboo on her hand. Jekjek rubbed his neck where she almost throttled him.

"Fine! Frogga don't wanna put hoomie jingles on the pile! More for Jekjek and other hob-head smartie gobs!" Jekjek taunted.

"You wot?!" Frogga screamed.

They fought some more.

By the second time they were done, almost all the critter legs were gone, and Scuttler had to finally break them up.

"None 'o youz is actin' like hob gobbos! Jekjek gotta just do hob things. Smart gobs follow!" the speedy gob snorted.

"Bah! You right." Jekjek coughed.

"I'll go slide some hoom pants. Get my paws on they jinglers." Stank said with a gobbo shrug. Jekjek beamed.

"That's my grot! Hah!"

Frogga spit out a new loose tooth.

"Git! Fine. If Stank wanna slide and sneak on hooms, then Frogga goes too!" she said, stamping her foot in the dust.

"Hahahah! Dats just cuz you wanna make grots wit that Stank gob!"

"You wot?!"
 

Fawful

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The chatter of the goblins was largely lost on Scuttles. All he knew was that Jekjek had some plans, and that the other goblins (again) were fighting. Perhaps not knowing what was happening was advantageous to staying neutral.

But there was one word in there he fully understood.

"Hehe," Scuttles chuckled loudly, "He said Frogga wants grots."

Scuttles pointed at Frogga, his long laugh a deep, annoying chuckle. Frogga slapped him upside the head, which Scuttles barely responded to. Hell, the goblin was barely budged.

"Frogga wants grots," Scuttles mumbled again.

The other goblins started chattering again. Scuttles was once again lost in the fuzz of conversation. It was never clear whether Scuttles had bad hearing (he clearly understood very simple orders) or a bad attention span (he was a hyper-focused worker), but long conversations tended to completely escape Scuttles.

How unfortunate for the other goblins that Scuttles did understand this conversation.

"We slide hoom pants?" Scuttles said, his face vacant - a telltale sign that he had accepted a mission. "Job started."

And with that, Scuttles practically vanished.
 

Izaneus Phortea

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"Gobs stop fightin'! " Jekjek shout loud, " Smart gobs follow, starts with Scuttle." Jekjek look 'round quick, then slow, then very slow. Scuttle not here.

"Where Scuttles go?" Jekjek ask, turning every which way, until world start to spin without him. Jekjek not dizzy! Jekjek just too fast. World can't keep up.

Eyes doin a spin, Jekjek look at other gob, Fozz speak up. " Scuttle do Scuttle things, Scuttles off." Jekjek think, and grow big angery. " Scuttle leave for big hooms!" Jekjek yell, " Big hooms too big for one gob! Even while sleep! GAH!!" He shouted, stomping tiny... big gob foot on ground.

" We go we go! Hurry hurries!!!"
 
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