Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Day Forty-Two: My sweat is sweating

Day one of the adventure of a lifetime. Possibly because I don't expect my lifetime to last past this adventure.


Fortunately, my journey isn’t as aimless as I first thought. The king was just so angry at me yesterday that he kept cutting off The Baron before he could tell me where I’m going: Goblinoster.

As you can probably figure out on your own, Goblinoster is home of the goblin war bands that attacked our castle, ruled over by King Gok. There’s apparently a witch living there who can tell us what’s needed to get rid of foulfungus. The Baron didn’t want me infecting the goblins with this disease, though, so he made me bathe myself, and he got me some new armour. Nice guy, I guess.

He also tried to give me a spear. When I couldn’t grab the thing, he laughed at me. “Dragomir,” he said, “you really are the worst guard, just like they say, aren’t you? I’m sorry if you get killed.” Then he sneezed in my face. Sigh.

I don’t know anything about Goblinoster, other than it’s populated by goblins. It’s supposed to always rain in Goblinoster, as if rain clouds just follow goblins. I tried to ask Grylock the Ambassador about his home, but he refused to see me. Most people think he’s not gonna last long enough for me to get back, and he blames me for getting sick.

Poor Grylock. I must seem like the plague incarnated to him.

I dunno how to get to Goblinoster, but the convoys that brought King Gok and his troops to the castle left lots of tracks for me to follow. I wish they’d stuck around for another day, but as soon as the goblins heard about the foulfungus they all took off. Couldn't one single goblin have been lazy? Maybe leave behind a troll I could tail? Granted, they're dumber than yak poo and probably couldn't find their way home if the path was pointed out by hundreds of signs, but...

... actually, I guess if there were hundreds of signs I wouldn't NEED a troll. Man, my attempts to make other things look dumb always backfire.

Anyway. I kissed Libby goodbye, told her to give my best to Eve, received a weak, loving punch to the jaw, and set out. And I knew, five minutes after I started, that traveling would suck, even without man-eating beasts along the way.

I spent most of today walking with a giant backpack strapped to my armour. I was hot as hell, and my boots filled with sweat after an hour. All I could do to relieve my boredom was try to pick pictures out of the clouds in the sky. I saw a lot of middle fingers, which is a good summary of how life feels about me. There weren’t any mongooses or zombies to bother me, so at least I wasn’t in danger.

(Hope you don’t mind being stuck in my backpack, diary. You’re right next to the cheese I bought from a merchant before I left. You might smell funky. Sorry about that. The ratty part of you should enjoy the scent, at least.)

Now I’m sitting by a fire with a sleeping bag, hoping nothing shows up in the night. Spooky. It would be just my luck that an elephant came along or something. I don’t wanna end up like Philip! I like my head where it is, firmly stuck on my neck!

Scared witless,

Dragomir the Adventurer

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