Weeds Meads and Steeds PDF

TOB LE T HE G OBLI N
Iturp, the most handsome of the three goblins because his eyes were a sky
blue, and therefore also the most arrogant, curled his lip in disagreement and
snorted with his long curved nose. “Why keep chickens around when we can be
stealin' instead? Besides, chickens are tasty. I can't possibly have them squawkin'
nearby without always gettin' hungry.”
“But that's exactly the problem with basin' our lively hoods on theivin'.”
Glob retorted with an instructive tone. “Those we take from and kill, can no
longer produce. When producers die, those of us who prey on 'em suffer the
most.”
“That's some stargazer nonsense.” Iturp crowed in contempt. “What are ya
trying to say?”
“There needs to be a balance between us theivin' and us producin'. If
everyone in the world be theivin' like us, and not producin', there would be
nuffin' to rob. Society requires a certain number of producers for there to be
robbers. There's only so much takin' we can do before the whole system
crumbles.”
“But yer' sayin' that we should be producers by raisin' chickens, which is
dumb stargazer talk.”
“I just think diversifyin' our resources will be beneficial in the long run, to
get us through tough times like now.”
“But if we spend time raisin' a bunch of squawkin' chickens, who's to say
someone won't come theivin' them, and make us the losers?”
“There are risks with everything.”
“Too much of a risk I say.” Iturp snarled. “I'd rather just keep stickin' my
sharp sword into others that waste their pathetic lives producin', so I can take it
all, an' be a winner.”
With that as the final word, they each went back to comforting their
grumbling stomachs that twisted inside their starved bodies.
Thinking to himself, Toble wondered if Glob was right, that perhaps there
was more to life than waiting for people to pass by so they can kill and eat them.
He was never raised like a proper goblin, being orphaned as an infant after his
mother had him strapped to her back as she charged into battle. The strap was cut
and he was nearly trampled on, but he managed to crawl out of the chaos. Shortly
after, he was taken and raised by bandits who sorted through the remains on the
battlefield. Toble then spent his life traveling around the Hallowed Steps
mountain range, and going in and out of groups to find a place to belong;
somewhere he could be useful. This was Toble's fifth bandit party he belonged to,
and for the most part they seemed fair when splitting the spoils; with orcs getting
only three times as much, regardless of effort. And also, there was a lack of
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