Under the harsh glare of a desk lamp, Gregory Tills ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. The words of the textbook ran before him in numbing circles. Augury was a difficult course to begin with, but he'd had potential in it, which was why he was taking this course at Lovain University. But no amount of potential could help you if you didn't know what the signs meant. He had no intention of ending up just another soothsayer spouting cryptic nonsense to bored villagers. He had ambition.
But ambition took study.
Study took peace.
Quiet.
It didn't take the goblin sorority having a party all hours of the night outside his window!
The music was blaring. That strange, pulsing sound with a heavy bass that thumped the walls like a personalized earthquake. He'd complained to the dorm manager, but she'd just laughed it off.
"Goblins are just... energetic! Especially on the Fourteenth."
"But I have a test!"
"Think of it as practice," she'd said.
He had.
It had not helped.
He grabbed the book, focusing intently on the words, brow wrinkled intently as he studied it. Let's see. The sign of a crown meant royalty. But if crossed with a sword that meant death would come for a king. But if again crossed with a lamb that meant...
Nothing.
Where was he?
"Fuck!" he cried, at last throwing down the book. Enough of this. He was going to end this one way or another.
His chair squeaked as he rose sharply to his feet. Dressed in only his night robe, he opened the door and marched around the corner and down the stairs, making his way purposefully across the lawn.
Goblins rarely lived on campus. Usually they kept to their own sororities, much as the witches did. Sometimes the two cohabited, but rarely. Goblins preferred to keep to their own, although were more than willing to invite others over to party. They said nothing tasted as good as goblin ale. Greg didn't know if that was true. He'd never tried the stuff. But it had to be, judging by the way the sorority fairly burst with light, life, laughter and music. Every window was lit up and around the front were sprawled bottles and strung up lights. Greg marched up to the door and hammered a fist against it to be heard over the music blaring from within.
The door swung open at last and Greg had to check himself at the sight of her.
She was like most goblins. Short, only coming up to his stomach, but she made up for the lack of height with an abundance of curves. Amply displayed as she was only wearing a short skirt and a crop top that hugged her plush, big breasts tightly. Her hair was a dishevelled mess of black and her smile both beautiful and easy.
"Heeeey pretty boy," she giggled. "How you doing?"
Greg flushed hotly in both annoyance and embarrassment. "Not well!" he barked. He gestured angrily towards the dorm. "I'm trying to study! And your... your... activities are deafening!"
"Aw, that's a problem!"
"Yes, it is!"
"Uh huh. Pretty boys like you shouldn't have to study. You can get by totally on your looks!"
For a moment Greg was too flabbergasted to speak. "I... you... what!"
"Oh yeah!" she giggled, her breasts bouncing in her shirt. "You're such a cutie! I bet you'd make a girl a wonderful house husband. Pretty boys shouldn't waste their silly brains trying to learn. They just have to be the bestest boys ever and do whatever their wife says."
Greg felt his flush deepen. Of course, he'd heard of goblin's opinions on men, but for the buxom slut to talk that way to him it was... it...
"L-look!" he snapped. "Will you just... just keep it down! I can't think!"
The goblin gasped. "Oh! That is a problem. Well, you'd better come in, then."
"What!"
But before he knew it the giggling short stack had grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the sorority. He staggered in and the door slammed shut behind him, and Greg found himself in the belly of the beast, so to speak.
More lights were strung within, blinking with kaleidoscopic hues. People were sprawled everywhere. Laughter and noise and the chatter of conversation filled every room. No matter where he looked, he seemed to find a goblin wrapped in the embrace of a woman or a man or another goblin, sloppily kissing or stroking each other in adoring affection.
"This way!" his guide giggled, tugging him down a hall.
"W-wait! I'm not here to party!" he objected, even as he followed her tugging hand.
"Of course not, silly! Gosh, you boys are really so dumb! But we can't just end a Fourteenth celebration! Momma Hobb needs her festivities. We'd have to talk to the den mother first."
"We would?" Greg said.
"Sure! But she's busy, so let's get comfortable until she's free!"
With that she spun about and gave him a push. Greg pinwheeled his arms and fell into the plush cushions of a truly massive, soft couch. The sort of softness that can only be achieved by copious amounts of use.
No sooner had he landed the goblin had bounced into the seat beside him, beaming delightedly at his confused expression.
"The name's Abbie," she said, shaking his hand.
"Uh, Greg," he said. "Look, is this going to take long? I have my studies to return to."
