The Goblins Fan Forum

Merix plans to use his trance time to make giant trees (a mix of these 3 images:) So that they will be giant water standing trees that will lift up huge chunks of land, big enough to live on-

This (and the next) SA is used to "seed" some seeds so that they will follow his command and grow as he direct during the trance. and to plant said trees around the country side.

The class of Grippli younglings sat in the cool shade of the temple in Ehlonna's Refuge, as the teacher shuffled back comfortably in the lower branches of a great oak tree that stood in the centre.

"Listen well, children, for today I tell you the tale of Grikkul, the dragonslayer!"

The younglings whispered excitedly for a few seconds before settling down and waiting patiently for the elder to begin.

"Our story starts in the very first days of The Tribe, when the world trees were but seeds no bigger than you, little ones. Grikkul was one of the first Grippli placed on this land by Ehlonna. In those days, The Tribe was bound in servitude to the followers of Lloth, inside the great fire mountain, Soulbreak. Does anybody know who they were?"

A chubby, bright blue infant in the front waved one webbed arm in the air.

"Yes Kerlup, do you know the answer?"

"Drow, Elder! They're nasty mean spider people who hate the sunshine!"

"Well, I don't know about that, but yes, they were the drow. What do you think Merix?"

In answer, the oak tree creaked and groaned, as of straining against a wind.

"Well look now, I think you've hurt his feelings.... Anything to say Kerlup?"

Little Kerlup looked crestfallen.

"Sorry Mister Merix, I didn't mean it..."

The dark coolness of the temple was lit slightly by a green glow, and slowly a shiny red apple grew impossibly from the outstretched branches of the oak and plopped suddenly into the astonished Kerlup's lap.

The teacher chuckled.

"Thanks for helping with the lesson old friend. When Grikkul reached the surface, he lived for a time in The Tribe's first home, Frogmud Lake. As a young Grippli, he went treasure hunting and brought back many riches for The Tribe to trade. When the mountain fell, however, Frogmud Lake was destroyed, which is why we celebrate on the anniversary every Autumn, to commemorate the brave souls we lost that day

"Grikkul left The Tribe for a time then, searching for new allies for the Grippli. Can anyone tell me who he found?"

Again, the class was silent, all except for Kerlup, who waved furiously until the teacher gave an approving nod.

"The Dartemba teacher! I like the centaurs, they let me ride one of them once when they came to visit."

"Yes Kerlup, well done. The Dartemba have always been true friends to The Tribe. We used to live with them you know, before our alliance drove the gnolls from the centaur lands once and for all. With them on our side, we came for the first time to this place, and founded Ehlonna's Refuge next to the Great Lake."

He gestured out of the window to where the Sun was just dipping below the Western fringes of the Lake, as the skaters stepped lazily over the waves, carrying sledges of cargo and passengers.

"It is at this point in our story that along came a darkening sky: Maraxia the Black!"

There was more hushed whispering, and a few of the younglings croaked nervously at the sound of the legendary monster's name.

"The great black dragon attacked Ehlonna's Refuge and hurt many of Grikkul's friends, so he locked himself away for many weeks, layering spell after spell upon a single arrow, tuned specifically to pierce Maraxia's scales and strike her blackened heart.Eventually there was a great battle between the Free Tribes and Maraxia's followers. Many loyal friends were hurt or worse that day, including our dragon ally Vhontaethraxxia. Grikkul took a high vantage point during the battle and fired the Arrow at Maraxia, but missed!"

There was a collective gasp from the intently listening younglings.

"The battle raged on, with spell and sword taking a heavy toll from both sides. The second time Grikkul fired the Arrow, the wind took it, and ut soared away over the treetops. By the time Grikkul was ready to fire again, our brave soldiers were tiring, and Grikkul's legs shook with the effort, but his arm and eyes were true. Maraxia spotted him, and swooped down towards the cliff he stood upon. Grikkul pulled back his bowstring, and fired! The Arrow flew straight and true, and struck the beast tight between the eyes! But oh no! As Maraxia tumbled from the air, one of her mighty claws struck Grikkul, shattering his bow and cutting him nearly in two. Luckily, The Tribe managed to carry him back to this very temple, where he slept for a whole month and could not be woken. Maraxia fled, and would not be seen again for many years. While he recovered, Grikkul left The Tribe and found a cave where he healed and meditated. Today, this cave has been enlarged and fortified, and is home to Grikkul's Guardians, the finest archers in the land. Indeed, in the years following Maraxia's first defeat, Grikkul spent his time teaching others his craft and training the water bugs that let us traverse the Great Lake, as well as those ridden by the Guardians. The Guardians were on the frontline of the battle between the Free Tribes and the necromancer Jethril Vok's undead horde."

A small red female Grippli croaked up:

"Did Grikkul ever fight Jethril Vok, teacher?"

"No, little one. He fought in the battle, but the dracolich was finally slain by Kermit the Great, Consort of Our Lady Ehlonna, but that is a story for another day."

"We move forward in time, many years, to a point where Grikkul was an old frog, and a proud father, and grandfather. In his old age Grikkul never truly believed that Maraxia was gone as a threat, so one cold winter he conferred with some friends of The Tribe, an archon and a couatl, who were staying in Ehlonna's Refuge, and together they created a new Arrow, one filled bot with hatred and lust for vengeance, but with hope and light, and powerful good magic. When it was finished, Grikkul picked up his bow and his walking stick, and travelled into the Eastern mountains with one of his companions to hide the Arrow with the Silver Dragon monks until a time when it was needed. However, the new Arrow was such a beacon of goodness that a dark force noticed its passage and was drawn to it, determined to snuff it out: Maraxia!

"She attacked Grikkul at the summit of a mountain and charged from the sky, breathing a foul cloud of acid at him. The brave old Grippli drew his bow one last time, and shot the Arrow straight through it, passing clean through Maraxia's heart and out the other side. Grikkul's companion told the tribe that in the moment before the dragon's last cursed breath hit him, there was a flash of brilliant, warming light. Our shamans told us that Grikkul never really died, but in that moment Ehlonna took him to the Eternal Ponds forever. Or so goes the story. Thus, younglings, ends the tale of Grikkul, the dragonslayer."

As the younglings filed out of the temple, the teacher turned, sighed to himself and blinked away a tear.

"Elder, how do you know so much about Grikkul?"

It was Kerlup, standing alone in the last rays of the day's sun on the temple steps. Turning back, the Elder addressed the young Grippli.

"You seem very interested in The Tribe's history, young Kerlup, I think we might make an archivist of you one day. Would you like to see his shield?"

Eyes wide, Kerlup nodded. The Elder gestured to a simple circle of burnished steel hanging from one wall of the temple.

"There it is. He had this made for one of his friends who needed protecting. It's magical you know."

"How did you get this, teacher?" asked Kerlup.

"I went back to the Eastern Mountains many years later and found it in the snow on Dragonfall Peak, little one."

Kerlup looked up.

"Teacher," he asked again. "How do you know so much about Grikkul?"

The raven paused, and looked thoughtfully along the length of one wing. Every feather was shock white with age.

"Because, youngling, he was the best friend I ever had."