Quest : Retrieve Spoon’s Namesake::

A Goblin and their namesake is a sacred bond and uniting them is super important…probably. Gain 109 EXP. Objective. Steal a spoon from human dwelling and do not die. Alternative Quest Name: Spoon’s Horrible Idea #1.

The plan is simple. It’s dark, and the humans fall asleep when it’s dark! Get inside the house. Find the spoon. Run for our lives. Wait, steal clothes. Then run for our lives.

There are so many things that could go wrong. Starting with breaking into the fortress humans call a house. Even raiding goblins have a hard time breaking down locked doors. And breaking a window-

Humans have excellent hearing, and those that sleep close to Goblin mountains often do so lightly. Even at the best of times, a classic smash and grab can be ruined by a twig snap or a farm animal mowing too loudly.

I have a rock. Rocks are loud. Dagger has a, well, dagger, but the hard part is convincing him to let me use it. Which he won’t. So now I have to whisper to him how not to simply bang the knife into the door until something gives.

Not that I know what I’m doing, but trusting Dagger with words like “be sneaky” and “don’t make a lot of noise” is a very fast way to wake up every human within a 2-mile radius…

But Dagger is one problem. Spoon, on the other hand-

“Spoon, please wait.”

Spoon is pacing back and forth, eyes fixed on the window, her hands sparking with intention. The image of the bush blowing up and the sound of screaming rats gets replayed in my brain every time I see the beginning and end of a spell.

“I know, I just… it’s right there!”

I nod, remembering the first time I saw a rock and realized that we belong together. And I also needed to kill this cave spider who was scuttling after me. I needed both hands to lift it, but when I did… it felt good.

I pat my own rock collection as I turn back to Dagger, who is… trying his best.

Dagger is using his weapon as a digging tool after I pointed out where I think the human lock is. So the once solid door, while still being solid, has deep gauges in the wood as Dagger scraps the sharp edge over and over again at a single spot. That’s not what-

Dagger stops scratching suddenly and looks at his dagger, then back at the partially exposed metal that must be the “lock” and shrugs. He thrusts the knife between the exposed metal and the wooden door frame, and with a “bang,” the door jolts open.

We all stand frozen. I grab a rock, a red one, from my satchel, more for comfort than as a weapon, as we stand in front of the yawning darkness of the human’s fortress castle. We listen. And we listen. Even as the door swings gently back and forth, we listen as the creeping sound becomes deafening against the silence and anticipation.

We wait. And wait. But then nothing happens, and without me realizing it, Spoon simply walks in, and Dagger follows. I don’t even bother to curse as the fear of the empty house with no lights and no signs of human activity chills my bones.

I just follow.

***********

“Everyone’s asleep,” Dagger muses while we creep into the house.

Everyone being asleep isn’t the problem. Everyone staying that way is!

But I don’t bother to point that out as we try to navigate through the dark, as we avoid various hazards like tables and vases, but the worst of all TOYS!

Human children and their GOD DAMN TOYS! I step on three within 30 seconds of entering this cursed place and almost cry out to Jeezus each time their sharp awkward edges pierce my flat feet!

But I have to hold those muffled sounds of pain in as I look around in amazement. The human house seems to spill out in all directions, like a giant tent fit for a dozen chieftains! And rich ones, too, cabinets full of food and strange tools flank us on either side, and remnants of a fire seem to glow from inside the house. A firepit nestled into the furthest wall and seemingly dug into the very floor with chairs and tables not too far away!

How wealthy are these humans? But that was on the right side, on the left… another hint of a firepit, more elaborate with pots hanging over the groove where a fire could lap the bottom from below. Utensils flank either side of the firepit’s brick masonry, and the hint of cooked food wafts over like an enticing haze.

I want desperately to try some, to eat some, and before I realize it, I drift toward the unguarded cooking pot against my better judgment. We needed to get the spoon for Spoon, but my watering mouth and growling stomach have other ideas! I am joined by Dagger and Spoon, whose own hunger guided them here. Carefully, Dagger and I remove the pot and set it down. It is smooth, round, and cold to the touch. Spoon removes the lid, and despite my worries, she sets it down carefully. We look inside together, three little Goblin thieves peer into a mini black well of dark liquid where things simply float. I don’t wait for a cue; I dip a single finger inside and bring it to my mouth-

I almost cry.

The flavor is a deep tanginess followed by an outpouring of salty goodness that fills my mind with the images of meat and mushrooms not sliced from the thigh of a Goblin named Mushroom! This is mana dropped from heaven and poured down my throat by Yeezus himself. And I want to dance, to sing, I want to-

Spoon smacks my head before I unknowingly dip my entire face into the food pot from the gods. She points at the window. The window that contains her spoon. For a moment, Dagger and I look at her, confused, until we realize that humans eat with spoons. With spoons! That must help with the flavor!

We rush to the window and climb over the cabinet below that is unusually large and has a weird water basin in the middle. Dagger slips and falls inside that basin and grunts his disapproval, and Spoon gets closer to the rack containing her prize.

Normal Human spoons, at least the one that Spoon most likely named herself after, are small, simple things. Barely bigger than a goblins hand. This spoon is twice that size and then some, made of wood, and covered in scratches from use. It is big enough to reach the bottom of the pot that contains the delicious stew and then some. Spoon holds it in both hands, eyes gleaming in recognition. Her namesake.

Spoon is whole.

I creep closer to her as the cabinet squeaks under our weight. She seems to glow. “Is this your first spoon?”

She nods in awe, on the verge of tears.

“How did you get your name without your namesake?” I whisper gently.

She looks at me with a weird smile, both sad but proud, as she shifts her oversized spoon to one side and show me her hand-

A strange mark in the middle seems to glow softly with residual power. I stare at it for a long time, not sure if it is rude to stare at something that seems… sacred? Like Jeezus himself carved it into her flesh. Because it is, coincidentally enough, in the shape of a spoon.

“Shamans don’t get names until a mark of power shows up,” she begins. “It’s how we know if a Goblin is really a Shaman or just a stupid Raider trying to get out of his raiding party.”

Spoon takes a deep breath. “We don’t need a namesake, but we still… want one. Like any other Goblin… and mine was simple enough-”

“It looked like a spoon.”

She nods.

“And that’s why you wanted to Raid.”

She looks at me when I say that, her face one expression but her eyes, her big goblin eyes, a thousand.

Dagger manages to get out of the basin and put a reassuring hand on Spoon’s shoulder. Spoon squeezes it, and I smile.

“Well, good thing you decided to steal one instead.”

“Cause Raiding sucks,” Dagger adds.

We all laugh.

“What’s ser funny?” a human child hiccups below us.

We scream.