Goblins! I love goblins. Do you? You should!
This story features lots of goblin impregnation but, really, if you're reading one of my stories that should be a given.
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Iris barged through the door, stumbling into the tavern. She sagged, hands resting on her knees as she fought to catch her breath. Chilly night air slid through the doorframe, making the candle flames flicker.
Tanvo dropped the rag he'd been using onto the worn bartop, jumped down from his stool, and ran over to check on her.
"What's the matter? Are you okay?" the imp asked.
"No," she said, "We got...a problem. Goblins."
"Goblins?"
"Goblins. They rarely come this far north. I was feeding the sandworms when I saw them...fuck, we need to get ready."
Iris marched over to the bar, retrieving a heavy great axe from an alcove underneath. She handed Tanvo a paring knife. The imp felt like there was a slight discrepancy in their weaponry, but asked a more pertinent question.
"Are we really going to need these?" he said, miming a stabbing motion.
"Actually, you're going to want to hide for now."
"Hide? Whuh-" The demoness shoved him into the space under the bar from whence the axe had come.
"Don't move. Goblins love imps. They'll eat you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and several other meals they don't even have names for yet! Just stay quiet and let me do the fighting. I'll see if I can't get them to think this place is more trouble than it's worth!"
Tanvo and Iris were the only ones who lived on site. Hopefully, she thought, the Goblins wouldn't bother the homes of the other staff on the other side of the oasis. She went around the tavern's main floor, closing and locking up all the windows with the storm shutters. Then she barricaded the door with some bar furniture. She picked the cheapest parts and the table that was about due for replacement anyhow; no sense wasting good timber.
For long, agonizing minutes they waited. Iris wiped the sweat from the leather grip of her axe. Then...they heard it. It was quiet at first. Barely audible over the crackle of the hearth fire. Singing. A chorus of small, high-pitched voices singing some kind of bawdy shanty.
"Oh, Blow the man down, girlies, blow him right down!
Give me some time to blow the man down!"
The singing only grew louder, the number of voices waxing and waning as it approached. It seemed to be coming from three sides. Iris' head swivelled left and right, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. Which side would they enter through? Where would they strike first?!
The answer was everywhere at once. Tiny feet kicked in the storm shutters at three points. Before Iris could strike, the door buckled inward, smashed in with a hammer the size of Tanvo. The hole was big enough for a few tiny green forms to wriggle in, displacing the barricade of furniture as they did. Paralyzed by indecision, Iris realized too late that they had outmaneuvered her. Several of the creatures now pointed crossbows at her!
"Don't move, big girl!" the goblin with the hammer said, pointing with her other hand to the forces surrounding her, "One false move and you're a pincushion!"
Iris, realizing that there was no way out of this without obscene bloodshed, put down her weapon and raised her hands.
"I don't want a fight," she said truthfully.
"That's good! Neither do we!" the hammer goblin replied. She smoothed back a bushel of curly pink hair and murmured something in gobbish. Two of her number dashed over to haul away the axe, struggling under the weight. "This is a robbery! Hand over the gold, and we'll be on our way!"
From their apparel, they were strangers to these desert lands. Nobody looking to spend hard days marching through the sands and relentless sun wore skimpy leather tops and miniskirts like those sported by the greenskins. Iris lamented thinking about how that kind of cleavage-exposing apparel would hold up under a proper haboob.
"How much gold do you think we make out here...whatever your name is," she asked, hands falling on her generous hips.
"My name is Tika, and don't play coy with me, you infernal floozie! Your little establishment is well-known in this region. If you're not rolling in the coin from traders, I'd say you have terrible financial acumen." She adjusted her aim to the bar. "Mimi, Zanza, check under there. I'm sure you'll find some loose change to pay for the trip."
"W-wait!" Iris called. She held out her hand but a poke from a goblin-sized spear wielded by one of her assailants shut her down. "There's nothing over there, I promise!"
"Yeah right," one of the pair, Zanza or Mimi, replied with a giggled. They paid her no further heed and went about searching the cupboard. Iris' heart sunk the moment she heard a high pitched squeal.
"Imp!" one of the goblins screamed, "It's an imp!"
That fact immediately got their attention. They ooh'ed and aww'ed at the small man, who didn't enjoy the attention one bit. They wrapped their hands around his arms and frogmarched him in front of the pink-haired leader gob.
"Now this IS an interesting find," Tika said, looking over Tanvo from head to toe. They were around the same height, so for the first time in a while he didn't have to crane his neck up to have a proper conversation.
"I don't have any money either!" he said, turning out his adorable poofy pants. But despite him not having anything in his pockets, the goblins were still looking at his trousers with envious eyes.
"They say imps have the biggest dicks," one whispered.
