Goblinology 4: The Quest for Peas

Here you are, patient readers – the final goblinology reports from the 38 fabulous entries I received last week. Once again, I wish I could have sent everyone who entered a signed book, but alas, as I’m sure my peers in the goblinology trade know, to dedicate one’s life to the cataloging of goblins (or Faeries, if you’ve got the stomach for the vermin) is to embrace a life of modest means. The satisfaction of a job well done is all we ask! Well, that and the occasional flask of owl wine.

Starting us out today is Amber (sorry, “Ambie”), a goblinologist of some note! She claims to have identified tens of thousands of goblins. My poor girl, I think you were yet another victim of the Doppel Gang, a trio of goblin pranksters who are masters of disguise and notorious corruptors of counts. But even if you were counting the same three goblins over and over again, you should be proud of your endurance!

I myself am a well versed and experienced goblinologist, having named correctly some tens of thousands of the goblin kind. This particular goblin is quite an interesting one, he is Sir Hcnets Swaggle-Bottom of Sock Loaf tribe. The most successful pirate to ever sail the Bog of eternal stench, perhaps because he is the only pirate to do so. He has amassed a great horde of left socks, smelly fish-cheeses, buttons, and other wondrous treasures which he keeps at his hidden-and-way-more-secret-than-yours-hideout. the only problem being that he has forgotten where it is. Hcnets lost his eye in a ferocious battle with a Bog Snail, though witnesses claim that the snail was very small, Hcnets is very adamant that it was an enormous monster of goblin-eating proportions.

And so, thus is the story of Hcnets Swaggle-Bottom, scoundrel of the Bog of Stench. You see? Goblinology is not a useless or unfounded science, it is perfectly legitimate and accurate, requiring a skilled eye. Very few have a talent for it, but as you can see, I do. If you are ever in need of my services again, feel free to contact me.

Sincerely,
Ambie Zomber
Doctor of Goblinology at Goblin City University

Jennifer observed a goblin dedicated to the healing arts! If only that safety-first attitude carried over into his Spracket technique…

Name: Willidor the Gobblin

Bio: This gobblin is named Willidor. His occupation is a physician assistant. Although there is not much need of medical assistance in the Underground, some gobblins do need help every now and then.He helps the physician with anything he may need. When he is not helping the doctor, Willidor enjoys reciting dirty limericks, gardening and playing ( and sometimes cheating at) enchanted card games.
He is not a hero nor a villain. He leads a very average life in the Underground and sometimes tries too hard to prove himself. In fact, he lost his eye during a friendly game of spracket, when he was showing off to his friends.This is also the reason he tends to cheat at games, as he feels the need to impress others, along with saying naughty poems. Little does Willidor know that everyone and everything in the Underground is far beyond ordinary.

Kristi O is a goblinologist after my own heart. The French can have their grapes, the Brits their grain – for me, there is no better inebriant than the pressed juices of an owl, fermented for a good 13 years.

Name: GREOUCH

Job: Unofficial Goblin Concierge

Lore: The morn after All Owls Night, after the Goblin Army has emptied the
traditional Tun of Owl Wine, this enterprising Goblin takes it upon
himself to rouse the troops from their suds-induced stupor.

Using tools much sharper than the average Goblin’s wits, Greouch wakes
snoozing Goblins by kicking, stomping, stabbing, and biting in order to
‘persuade’ the troops to resume their posts.

Despite the often ungrateful reaction to his personalized wake-up calls,
Greouch is quite dutiful with his work. He pauses only to admire any new
stains he may have created during each encounter and can always be seen
wearing a satisfied, toothy grin.

His name is only assumed. It has been heard being screamed time and time
again as he makes his rounds; a surprised shriek of “gre-OUCH!”.

I take back what I say about owl wine. There’s far too much drinking being done by goblins these days without us Goblinologists contributing to the vice, as Samantha’s entry shows.

Name: Panstork

Bio: This “fearless explorer” claims he lost his eye after a fight with a furious and swears that his fake tail was given to him by grateful mermaids after he lost it saving their village. But really he’s just storyteller, he’s got a 1,001 tales all of which are mostly if not completely fake. He goes from one day to the next by making goblin’s pay to hear his stories which by Goblin’s standards is really good and worth paying for [but not by ours]. However he is also something of a drunkard spending all of his money on goblin type liquor until he passes or runs out of cash. While intoxicated if you prod him you can hear his real stories. For example he really has an eye-patch because he fell on a sharp object running away from a monster and is now blind in that eye. I have yet to hear the story about his tail for he falls asleep just as he starts [he may be faking]. Every now and then he leaves the city to go on an “adventure” which only seems to happen when his rent is due or enough goblins complain for new stories.

Thanks you, Katherine! I love the idea of a goblin postman. If Return to Labyrinth had gone on longer, that’s a job that absolutely deserves greater attention.

His name is Irkward and he is the gobblin postman! He is very quick on his feet to escape the rat-like goblin dogs. (Normally goblin dogs are friendly to goblins, but the post drives the dogs crazy) He carries vicious scars from various postal delivery attempts gone wrong, from delivering bad news to grumpy goblins, and from setting off booby traps accidentally. However the constant injury doesn’t phase him as he is virtually immune to the pain and carries his scars like trophies.
He pulls a little hand-cart filled with the post he has to deliver, and also a collection of tools to keep the dogs at bay – morsels of food, wooden cats, and pointed sticks.

His hobbies include – seducing female goblins alone at home, stamp collecting, and he loves to sit at home devising new ways to out-smart the dogs, fashioning new pointed sticks of various designs.

His devotion to his job is unfailing – despite his consist adultery attempts, no post goes undelivered, no matter how big the dog or how dangerous the way. It may be slightly late, but it will get there.

A hipster goblin, Tanith? It’s not unheard of. Tight pants are quite fashionable in the Labyrinth.

Snearglin is a goblin of immense character, in which I mean to say he doesn’t have much of one at all.

Snearglin’s ocupation is a nosmirker. He goes through the streets of the goblin city to smirk at everything he comes into contact with, from goblin to pebble on the ground and back to goblin again. (It always appears that he is nodding at everything)

One mystery of Snearglin is what is underneath the eye patch? Some say its a crystal ball given by Jareth himself, others think it’s an eye.

“Heavy-metal artist”? Why must you PUNish us, Nike? Oh, that’s right. You’re a goblinologist. That’s your job. And points for remembering Fläkwort. Clever girl!

Gangren

He was a famed heavy-metal artist in his youth. (A much envied occupation; he took large collections of metal and arranged the pieces like dominoes, or a house of cards, with the intent of starting a chain reaction of destruction. Though each work was obviously short-lived, each was a thing of cacophonous wonder.) After an unfortunate incident in which a piece of shrapnel ricocheted into his right eye, he decided to retire. (Lack of depth perception really puts a damper on his work.) Now he wanders about the city, living off his celebrity, and occasionally up-staging his cousin, Spittledrum.

Interestingly enough, “Gangren” is actually a stage name. It was given to him by King Jareth. (Actually, Jareth said ‘gangrene,’ believing that would be the result of such an occupation, but goblins rarely ever get these things right.) Having gone by “Gangren” for so long, no one remembers what his parents named him. When intoxicated, he’s been known to answer to just about anything (except Fläkwort. He doesn’t seem to like that one.)

Affienia’s fabulous goblin is talented indeed. A cartographer AND a fairy juggler? If I were him, I’d forget about maps and focus on the fairies. As long as it’s not contact juggling. Ew. Just EWWW!

Name: Skrit (this is short for Skrittlethud J Tatterdemalion which he feels is far too much of a mouthful for anyone to manage. No one has been able to get him to admit what the J stands for)
Occupation: Cartographer
Age: 27
Marital status: single
No known dependants.
Bio: Skrit is a mild mannered goblin who likes nothing better than to sit at his desk sketching maps of the Labyrinth and it’s surrounding lands. Labyrinthine cartographer is a full time job due to the ever changing topography. Trying to stay up to date is a challenge that Skrit loves. Skrit, like most goblins, loves to eat and will do almost anything for you if you give him a floofberry pie. Skrit’s hobbies include avoiding the goblin army, fairy juggling and trying to bribe his way into being Royal Cartographer. He isn’t very good at any of them.

Great nick-names, Regina. I wish that I had a crab, just so that I could name him “Mr. Scuttles.”

Name: Scuttlebum (a.k.a. Mr. Scuttles and Bumhead [behind his back, of course])

Occupation: Sailor/petty thief

Biography: Not your average goblin, Scuttlebum, whose real name sounds like a cross between a mighty sneeze and a very light burp, is fairly intelligent and has a remarkable understanding of the human language. (He is particularly fluent in English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, and Cockney rhyming slang.) Scuttlebum once was caught trying to steal a gold pocket watch from an English aristocrat and, after being mistaken for a strange-looking human, was required to become a deckhand on an ancient sailing ship of ill repute as punishment for his attempted thievery. He enjoyed his experiences at sea so thoroughly that, upon completion of his sentence, Scuttlebum decided to spend the rest of his days sailing around the world. He is generally well-liked by his crewmates, though they do consider him to be somewhat lazy and quite the gossipmonger. In his spare time, Scuttlebum likes to ship-hop, drink (never on the sixth Sunday of the month, though), and sing bawdy sea shanties.

Sarah… You’re not THE Sarah, are you, because if you’ve actually lived among goblins, if only for thirteen hours (minus a few for insolence), then you’re not qualified to be a goblinologist! This can’t be that Sarah, however, as the entry has all the touches of an academic’s work.

His name is Ginny Blizblag and he is a for hire nanny. Ginny starts every day with tall glass morning grog and the local want ads from the labyrinth tribune. Despite his hard exterior Ginny is a grade “A” softy, who is a excellent goblin role-model for the lil terrors. Whether it be teaching the proper way to poison fairy’s or taking off your head. Ginny is the way too go if you need a respectable Goblin to watch your growing young ones. Mr. Blizblag business card reads “when you are at work have no fear, hire the best nanny of goblin city”. I would say Ginny personalty is the perfect match of tough and silly. A fact that most people don’t know about Ginny, is that he is avid eye patch collector.. Blizblag has bejeweled, leather and even pink sparkly eye patches. Ginny never lost his eye in any battle or accident he just like the way he looks in a studded patch.

A goblin gone bad! What exactly is the “special business” that you refer to, Rikva? He wouldn’t by chance have connection to Gland Theft Grotto, would he? Because I know a guy who’s missing a thyroid…

His name is Blinkt. He was an experienced member of the labyrinth army. One day, he lost his right eye in a crazy battle against “The Fire Gang” (actually, it wasn’t a fight; they all were pretty drunk and the gang tried to teach him how to play dice with his eyes). Because of his new incapacity and the fact that he was found stealing money from his partners, he was fired. With that money, he opened a dirty and dusty inn, where at the back he held illegal activities such as gambling parties, unfair loans and “special” business.

Kayla, Goblinologist Extraodinaire! I wasn’t wondering so much about this harpoonist fellow, but I was curious as to what happened to all the goblin ladies. Now I see this cur took them. All nine of them!

As a leading expert in the field of Goblinology, I proudly present to you my incredibly scientific analysis of a mysterious goblin…
Who is this mystery goblin that has been popping up all over the labyrinth? Why, it’s none other than Gilderoy Spiketail, world-renowned harpoonist, chef, and ladies-goblin extraodinaire! Why if it wasn’t for Gilderoy’s excellent harpoon skills, the dreaded Moby Lick, Moby Dick’s evil twin, would have spewed water all over the gentle goblin folk’s crops and eaten all of their cheese! After Gilderoy’s brave display of bravery, he then went on to make a mean whale stew enjoyed by all (my sources tell me that Jareth himself fell deeper in love with the stew than he’d ever fallen in love with Sarah, but only for 3.5 seconds). Then, after single handedly saving the labyrinth, Gilderoy became irresistable to all of the goblin ladies and promply took 6 wives and 3 mistresses that very day!

This entry comes from Courtney, the so-called Goblinologist. Her so-called research reveals several intriguing so-called “facts.”

Name: Smetch the So-Called Pirate

Bio: Smetch lives in a boat on the Bog of Eternal Stench. He thinks of himself as a pirate. Smetch goes across it looking for things that goblins like. He finds things people lost in the bog of eternal stench (from jewelry to dead rats) and takes them to the goblin city to trade off for stuff that make him look more like a pirate.

(And now a poem) I have sailed the seven seas! Well…at least the eternal bog… I don’t have much for manners and I smell like many hogs. I’m from the land of stench, where I gather many treasures. They’re placed in an old tin can, to trade for simple pleasures. I barter and I sell many rocks, tails and rats… so that someday soon I can get a pirate hat!

And closing out the contest entries is Laura, whose goblin might hail from a stinky place, but his story is oh-so sweet.

In the Dreaded Bog of Eternal Stench there is breed of goblins called Boggaluks who know all the secrets and safe passages through and around the Bog. Unlike their other goblin cousins, Boggaluks are shunned by goblin society because of the Bogs stench oozing from their pores since birth. Since they are considered outsiders they despise anyone coming near their Bog and home and do not give their trust and information freely, but once trust is given its for life, the same goes if you lose their trust. Best way to earn the friendship and trust of a Boggaluk is to bring him or her a sweetly fragrant gift, preferably a bouquet of the blue Lilacs that grow in the Goblin King’s Garden that only bloom once in the winter. Since they are not accepted by society, anything sweet and beautiful that is given is highly treasured by the Boggaluk. Do not bother trying find information of the Boggaluks in the Goblin Archives though, Goblin historians didn’t considered them worthy of mention. There is only one person who knows their true worth and hold their loyalty, and that is the Goblin King.

UPDATE — A Missing Entry!

Reader “A Goblin Babe” sent in this entry during the contest, and I missed it when it wound up in the spam folder. I’m sorry it’s so late to appear as it’s a good one. A protector of filth and a lover of tunes!

His name is Widdlly (pronounced WIDD-lee) Corn-Heelious Snout, the Third. He comes from a long line of honored warriors within the Labyrinth, and is himself a Protector of the Filth. He inspires service in others with his cool aloofness, unmatched prowess of chicken-fencing, and stature as a goblin of the world (having been one of the chosen few goblins allowed to leave the Labyrinth while research was being conducted as to the whereabouts of Jareth’s lost left sock three decades ago). Widdlly’s younger brother idolizes him, having dedicated his own war medal to Widdlly-which he had received for a chicken-related wound inflicted during Sarah’s infamous siege of the Goblin City for his valiant (albeit ineffectual) work as a guard. Widdlly is a hardened soldier and steadfast patriot, yet he secretly harbors a small resentment for his post, as it has always been his dream to form a rock band called Love Muffin with his long-time friend, Mortar Ridgecrest. He wears a star emblem on his eye patch as a way to cope with his inability to be recognized for his more artistic talents (and, of course, for his inability to get away with wearing more outlandish, David-Bowie-esque attire).

Thanks again to everyone who participated! I hope you enjoy reading these entries as much as I did.