Goblintown Justice
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Goblintown Justice
Matt Forbeck
Copyright 2010 by Matt Forbeck
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
12 for ’12
This story was given out as a reward for the backers of my first Kickstarter drive for my 12 for ’12 project, my mad plan to write a novel a month for the entirety of 2012. Together, over 260 people chipped in more than $13,000 to successfully fund an entire trilogy of novels based on my Brave New World Roleplaying Game, a dystopian superhero setting in which superpowers have been outlawed for anyone that doesn't work for the government.
Thanks to each and every one of them for daring me to take on this incredible challenge. I couldn't do this without their support.
On February 14, 2012, I plan to launch the second Kickstarter drive for 12 for '12. With this, I'll raise funds for another trilogy of novels, this time based in the same world in which “Goblintown Justice” takes place. If you enjoy this story, please consider backing the drive and getting access to exclusive early editions of these books.
Join us! It's sure to be a wild ride.
Goblintown Justice
I HAD JUST STAGGERED out of the Quill when I heard the scream. I’d had a rough day and had capped it off with a rough night, and at that moment I wasn’t prepared to deal with anything more demanding than finding my way to my place above the Barrelrider. But that noise drove a spike through my plans.
On most nights, I’d have just ignored the scream. Dragon City’s a big, nasty place, and if I chased after every sound of distress, I’d never stop running. And that’s only if I could override the natural sense of self-preservation that kept me from stabbing my wand into places it didn’t belong. Besides, that wasn’t my job. That’s what the Imperial Dragon paid the Guard for, right?
But this scream—more of a wail—came from nearby enough to make me flinch. I yanked my wand out of its shoulder holster and stiff-armed it at the alley I’d been stumbling past.
All I could see was inky darkness. The moon rode low in the night sky and cast long shadows throughout the city, and the glowglobes near the Quill had been shot out so many times the Empire had given up on replacing them years back.
Someone in the alley whimpered, a sound as pathetic as the scream had been piercing. I lowered my wand a bit and peered into the darkness, every sense on high alert, the hair on my arms standing up.
Nothing happened. No banshee came screaming out at me. No bullet slammed into my chest.
I considered just turning around, heading home, and ignoring whatever was going. After all, it had nothing to do with me, and I didn’t need more grief in my life.
But who was I kidding? My curiosity was up now. If I walked away, I’d never know what was going on in that darkness, and I’d wonder about it for the rest of my life.
Of course, I stood a good chance of my life lasting longer if I learned to leave well enough alone, so there was that to consider. But that had never stopped me before.
I muttered the words of an easy little spell, and a beam of light speared from my wand into the darkness of the alley. The light caught a gangly orc kneeling over a woman, both of them covered in blood. From the paleness of the woman’s skin, I guessed that the red splattered about the place had come from her.
My breath caught in my chest when I spotted the red and black uniform of the Auxiliary Guard on the woman. That took this from tragic to trouble. The Imperial Dragon’s Guard—the real enforcers of the big lizard’s will—might not patrol the lower slopes themselves, but they’d take the murder of one of their mortal sidekicks as a personal insult—one they’d pay back in blood.
The orc spun toward me, his slitted pupils constricting as he shielded his glistening eyes from the light. He hissed at me like a trapped animal, and I took a step back as I wondered if he would charge me or flee.
Before he could move, I realized that I knew him. “Sig?” I said.
The adrenaline drained from of me, flooded out by a growing dread.
Sig glared into the light, blinking, not recognizing my voice. The fact that I knew him had rooted him to the spot.
I lowered the light and walked toward him the way you’d approach a frightened animal, like when you’re unsure whether it would bite you or not.
“Gibson?” Sig said. “Max, is that you?”
“Dragon’s balls,” I said to him. “What did you do?”
Sig stood up like I’d hit him in his privates with a cattle prod.
“Nothing,” he said, panic growing on his face and in his voice. He grabbed me by the arm. “Honest, Max, you gotta believe me. I found Ames like this.”
“Ames?” I shone my light on the guard’s body. Her shirt lay slashed open, as did the bloody mess of flesh beneath it. Steam rose from the still-warm blood pooled around her.
The woman’s weathered face bore long-healed scars from battles she’d survived. Her short-cropped hair had started to gray at the temples. With death slackening her face, her lips no longer held the perpetual snarl she’d displayed for every moment I’d known her. She looked more peaceful now than I’d ever seen her in life.
“Who did this?” I said.
Sig bowed his shaking head, his shoulders trembling as he buried his face in his hands. Through his fingers, I heard him start to sob.
I grabbed him by the front of his greasy shirt and slammed him against the wall behind him. Bits of ancient mortar rained down.
“Who did this?” I said.
His eyes refused to meet mine. “I don’t know!” His voice came out raw and ragged. “It wasn’t me. I swear!”
“Think the Dragon’s Guard is going to take your word for it?”
I got my answer, but not from Sig. A voice from the entrance to the alley, speaking with a highborn accent, said, “Not a chance.” I recognized its owner immediately. At the same instant, a spotlight lanced out and caught Sig and me in its dazzling beam.
I froze. Part of me wanted to spin around and take these guys on, but the smarter part of me already knew who stood at the open end of the alley, waiting for us. That part had strong reservations about being disintegrated by overzealous officers in the process of executing their duly appointed duties.
Sig flinched at the light and finally stared straight into my eyes.
He looked very little like a murderer and a lot like a terrified, green -skinned, snaggletoothed child. He tensed up, and it felt like he was going to lose it. I shook my head at him by the barest amount, just enough to know that he’d see it, but not so much that the bloodthirsty elves behind the spotlight could use it as an excuse to save the Empire the bother of a trial.
“What seems to be the problem, Captain Yabair?” I said in my best schoolboy voice.
“Step away from that filthy orc, Gibson,” said Yabair. “And keep your hands up.”
I let go of Sig’s shirt and complied. As I did, I let my wand drop down into my sleeve. If Yabair and his friends saw it, they were too polite to say anything about it.
I stared into Sig’s eyes, then glanced toward the far end of the alley, hoping he’d take the hint. There was only so much I could do for him at this point. He’d have to take care of the rest.
I turned toward the glaring light and shaded my eyes with a hand as I tried to squint past it. “I know this looks bad,” I said as I ambled toward the guards, trying to put them at ease.
I didn’t even finish my sentence before Sig spun on his heel and sprinted off in the other direction. His feet slapped out a panicked beat on the cobblesto
nes behind me. I did my best to ignore him and kept moving forward, hoping I’d block the guards’ view of him.
“Stop him!” Yabair barked.
I threw my hands up higher and stopped in my tracks. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
The spotlight swerved away from me and tracked after Sig. I moved to try to keep myself in front of the beam as a pair of elves dressed in the crisp crimson of the Imperial Dragon’s Guard charged after Sig. I staggered about and stuck my feet out to try to trip up the guards, but I came up empty. Faster and lighter than I would ever be, they slipped past like the wind and zipped after the disappearing orc.
I turned to stare after the guards and shook my head in pity for Sig. It would take a miracle for him to get away from them, and considering how I’d found him standing over a dead guard’s body, I’d have put up good money to bet that fate hadn’t taken a particularly keen shine to Sig that day.
I’d done what I could for him, although I wasn’t sure why I’d done it. Sig and I had never been close. Still, you see someone in need, you lend a hand—especially if he’s innocent. Sig wasn’t a saint, I knew, but he’d known Ames just like me. Back in her pre-Guard days, he’d worked with her more than once. I felt pretty sure he wouldn’t have killed Ames. Not like that.
A long, perfect hand came down on my shoulder. “You’re a fool,” Yabair said. “I expect that of your kind, but I had thought perhaps you were an exception.”
“Just arrest me or let me