While searching through my collected lore of Tel’ Amorgh, I stumbled upon an interesting piece of literature that seems to have originated from a goblin tribe in the Ironfall Mountains. I thought it shared a connection to the spirit of this holiday and so I have decided to post it here for your enjoyment. Merry Christmas everyone.
The Goblins Parade
Far, far away on a cold mountainside
lived a nasty, and murderous goblin wartribe.
Full of warriors, and sneaks and big chieftain bullies
they’d attack you from caverns, trenches, and gullies.
Nearby lived a village of humans and elves
who took proper care of friends and themselves.
But the goblins were envious, greedy and jealous
so they gathered the tribe; already overzealous.
“We’ll sharpen our axes
and blunt our maces.
We’ll poison our daggers
to stab in their faces”
“We’ll build a chariot ready for war
it’ll carry an army of thirty or more.
We’ll need someone powerful to make it soar,
so we’ll enlist eight strong minotaur.”
“On Gnasher, and Basher, Korgar, and Grom.
On Smasher, Thrasher, Gorig, and Nom.”
So down the mountain the goblins flew,
and what hit the village nobody knew.
They whooped, and hollered, and screamed their warcry
depicting how the villagers would die.
They reached the small village and were ready to fight
but the villagers were waiting, cheerful and bright.
They prepared a feast for their small goblin neighbours,
to thank them for coming and for their labours.
For the goblins kept the villagers quite shielded,
from many a monster and the weapons they wielded.
Shocked and amazed the goblins sat down,
the minotaurs looked perplexed but still ordered a round.
They pillaged the feast and broke into the kegs,
they danced on their hooves, and tiny green legs.
The mayor and the chieftain got on quite swell,
so they decided to declare peace as well.
So remember to treat all your friends with care,
for every day is a better one when it is one you can share.
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