Goob Silverspoon's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Goob Silverspoon stood no taller than a fence post, but he wore full knight's armor and carried a sword that dragged the dirt behind him. He had marched three days into the forest to slay the beast whose head would buy him a seat in Briarholm's hall of champions. There was only one problem. He had no idea where the beast lived, or what it looked like, or which way to walk next. His boots had blistered. His water skin was empty. He had eaten his last bread that morning. If he kept wandering, he would starve long before he ever found a monster to fight. Then he heard croaking. A cluster of tiny frogs hopped across the path, each wearing a bright mushroom cap on its head. Goob followed them. Frogs meant water, and water might mean people. The frogs led him under a weeping willow heavy with pink blossoms. Beyond it stood a crooked little house with green shingles and dried herbs swinging from every beam. Smoke curled from the chimney. Goob knocked with his gauntlet. The door creaked open. An old woman peered out. She had a face like a dried apple and a single yellow tooth in her grin. "A knight the size of a stew pot," she said. "Come to be my supper?" Goob planted his sword point in the dirt and stood straight. "I've come to slay the beast. The one whose head opens the hall of champions. But I'm lost, and I'm hungry, and I won't leave until someone tells me where it dens." The hag's grin widened. She looked him over, from his dented helmet to his dragging blade. "Brave or stupid. Hard to say which." She waved him inside. "Sit. Eat. Old Ethel knows where the thing sleeps. Everyone within a day's walk knows." He ate her stew fast, watching her the whole time. She told him the beast denned in a cave beneath the northern ridge, half a day's walk. It came out only at night. It had killed six men who tried what he was trying. "So why help me?" Goob asked. Ethel leaned close. Her one tooth caught the firelight. "Because I want its liver, little knight. Fresh. For my brews." She tapped his breastplate. "You bring me the liver. I'll show you the safe path to the ridge. Fail me, and you find the cave alone." Goob thought of the six dead men. He thought of the hall of champions, and how close it suddenly felt. He set down his bowl. "Deal," he said. Ethel cackled and pressed a folded map into his glove. The path was marked in red. Now Goob knew exactly where to go. He also knew the beast had killed six armed men, and he was smaller than all of them. He was no longer lost. He was expected.