Disclaimer: Samurai Jack belongs to Gendy Tartakovsky and the Cartoon Network. All other concepts will be right to me or their other creators as they come up.
XXV. Battle at Goblin Gorge
Jack wasn't so out of his element that he wasn't used to waking up after a sudden, unexpected loss of consciousness to find himself in an entirely unknown place under the guard of greatly suspicious circumstances. The Goblin farmer was perched atop his cow steed with his crackling tazer rod hung over his shoulders, rocking back and forth, humming a song.
"Oh, when I get paid" he sang "I'm gonna get me a robot wife who never complains bout the smell of my feeeeet...cause she'll have no nose..." Jack silently rose to his feet in a low crouch, still feeling tingly and on edge form his climb out of unconsciousness. He reached for his sword, but of course, it was gone, and he spotted it swinging in the grip of the cow's curled tail. The blade and the sheathe were both coiled by the same tail, dirty and lean from its swatting motions, as it swung back and forth in front of him, just within reach but still unattainable. The Goblin kept on singing with his guard down while Jack plotted. He stroked his chin and pondered his solution, just within his grasp, but was stunned suddenly when the cow, who he was right behind, farted loudly. Jack held his breath and tried to escape but turned and finally noticed the cell he was in.
They were in a lift, a compact compartment for transporting cattle, at most four at a time so they still had the room to move and eat the shallow feed trough for their last-minute fill on the way up to the butchery. Jack did his best to retreat from the smell without making his presence known, but eventually the stink reached the Goblin rider as well, and he looked back. Jack took his mind into a meditative state and fell silent in a lull of suspended animation, right back into the pose the Goblin had left him in before.
"Hooo-EE!!" the Goblin shouted, waving his hand in front of his face. "Girl, you eat entirely too much o' that sod down there! You'd better cut back from now on, y'hear?" The cow mooed. The lift finally reached the top level and opened the gate in front. The Goblin hooked Jack by his robe collar with the long hook of his tazer rod and dragged him behind the cow as they both trod out onto the empty slaughterhouse floor. The shop was crafted from sterile, dead dirt. Not a single living thing was in the cave walls, literally on some more busy days. Huge cutting tools wielded by the Orcs and stronger bounty hunters were hung on the wall while the more precise, careful cutting knives and butchery charts were laid across a table high enough for Goblins to work at. Jack woke up just as the cow went across the rough slaughter floor. He was jostled awake by the bump a white skeleton protruding out from a pile of scrap bones, white and nicely cleaned, not yet transformed into any useful mass-produce tools.
"Now then" the Goblin said as he set his rod on a table, alerting Jack to his opportunity, "what's the best way to skin a samurai? I know how ta skin a cow, a cat, and a badger or two, but I ain't never heard of no proceedure to skin a man." Jack was suddenly up from the floor with a kick and stole his sword from the cow's strong grip with a kick on its rear. The cow lowed loudly and bucked. "What in Sam Hell?" The Goblin jumped from the frantic cow onto a table and met the bladed tip of Jack's blade staring him down at a distance.
"Do not move" Jack said. "I will not benefit you with more than one warning." Jack's voice was low, threatening, and incredibly serious. The Goblin glanced around and picked out a skewer that hung on the wall by a leather strap. He held it like a sword and blocked Jack's initial attack.
"Don't act all cock-a-doodle-doo like the rooster of the hen-house, son" the Goblin warned. "Don'chyou know I got toes what can crush a walnut?" He slipped his big, green foot with his hairy, big toes out from his leather boot and grabbed his tazer rod beside him while defending Jack's blade with the thick metal skewer. He handled the unbalanced rod with perfect control and spun the crackling tip in Jack's direction. Jack dodged it with a far lean back and stepped away, tripping over the bones behind him and staggering back until he caught his balance again. The Goblin had his weapons in both hands now and reached his strong foot back to the wall for a carving knife. He gripped it between his toes and grinned evilly. Jack prepared to block it. The Goblin threw the knife with a powerful kick of his leg and the knife flew right past Jack, grazing his cheek and cutting the slightest amount of blood out. Jack was amazed. Not only was he kept at a distance, but he couldn't fight back. He looked to the bone pile and grabbed a handful of bones to throw.
First he muttered a silent sacred prayer, then he tossed them. The Goblin was forced off his table and onto another soaked with dried blood. Jack rushed in, holding a ribcage in his offhand and prepared to attack. The Goblin jabbed his tazer at Jack to keep him at bay. Jack threw the ribcage into the crackling band of electricity and silenced it momentarily. The Goblin stabbed at Jack with the skewer only to get out-moved. Jack slid his blade up along the long, slender metal of the skewer and ran in with it, using the sliding as a guide to get into range for a solid palm blow to the Goblin's pot belly.
"What wus that fer?" he asked as he slumped over, unconscious. Jack stepped back and sheathed his sword.
"Even I can be merciful" Jack said "to my captors. They are all, in a way, the same to me, worth the pity of a warrior." Jack looked down the butchery and began to run down the wide, long hall where the cow had stampeded. In no time he emerged from an alley, right behind the cow, with a sign bearing the picture of meat hanging by chains overhead. An explosion shook the walls of the canyon and the sign fell. Jack took his sword and closed his eyes, slicing the sign in half and sheathing his sword in a single, beautifully fluid movement. The sign landed on either side and blew up dust as it slapped down to the flat Earthen dirt.
"Hey!" a voice called, alerting Jack to its presence with a glance. A bounty hunter, still smoking from the Scotsman's charring blast, had just climbed up to the level of the cliff and was pointing an eagerly shaking finger Jack's way. "It's him! It's Jack! It's Samurai 'Payday' Jack!" Jack's eyes opened wide in surprise. He began to run away while the bounty hunters behind him continued to scale the cliff and run haggardly after him, like wolves after a fleeing piece of meat...
Seth had decided, on a whim, to aid the Scotsman before searching for Jack. He watched from a distance and planned, keeping the brilliant spark of intellect in the back of his mind should he suddenly need to throw out some lightning. The Scotsman, despite his fatigue, was holding out greatly, swinging his sword for both defense and offense, throwing balls of fire and punching the flares around his fist into the ground to emit a fiery shock-wave that burnt the ground beneath him.
"He's amazingly great with that" Seth noted. "He handles the righteous fury of emotion like a natural. I just thought he was full of bluster and hate, but all the hot air he spouts seems to be of good use to him! I just hope, physically, he can keep going....in the meantime..." Seth brought the Gem of lightning he kept to his eye. A beam shined brightly out and focused itself in the Scotsman's direction. Another beam, weaker and dimmer, pointed above the Scotsman and slightly to the side, near the huge structure carved into the face of the cave. Seth pocketed the Gem again and stared off in that direction.
"There's a Gem in there!" Seth said. "I knew it! They're harnessing a natural power from one of the Gems to protect themselves! And it must be in there! I guess, no matter what course of action I decide upon, I'm going to the Scotsman. I may as well help while I can." Seth jumped down from his cover and started running for the ranks of the battle near the weary Scotsman. He was finally fighting with the very last of his strength, teetering on the final rope in his reserve of energy. He propped himself against his sword, the ground around him burning, while his main opponent with the long, mandrill face and cover of leaves and moss walked ever closer to him.
"You're in guff now, ladd'a" he said in his nigh unintelligible accent. The Scotsman looked up with a tired malice at his foe. His shalelie was poised high over his head. He was stepping in to deliver a powerful, skull crushing blow on the Scotsman's head. His eyes were glowing white with rage. The Scotsman fell on his back and avoided the blow which nailed his sword deep into the blasted ground.
"I cannay" he said, breathless, gazing up at the blue sky. He reached out with his large, thick arm only to have it fall back onto his chest. "Me bonny lass" he said, "tis a cruel fate to die without having seen your pretty, smiling face one last time. I'd give me life, if it weren't taken now, just to see you safe agin...."
"What're yu cryin aboot naow?" the druid said, leaning over the Scotsman's defeated body. He passed out, his brow still furrowed and his spirit all but extinguished from the embers he had fought on for so long. "I needn't to understand you no more, vile fiend! I end yoo!" He rose his club up high again and swung it down hard. He missed. Though he was sure his arm had sailed right past his head and that his heavy weapon should have followed, he saw no injury had befallen the Scotsman's powerful brow. Upon a closer inspection, he also saw no hand at the end of his arm. The freshly cut stub of his arm began to regrow vines from within his bark-colored vessels, harnessing the power of nature to reconstruct him.
"What was that? Whoo did that!?" He turned around rapidly and saw a man in a billowing black coat with a stream of slick silver flowing from his head. Seth glared over his shoulder and slammed his sword against its sheathe, fully drawing it in. At that bell sound the druid's body was blasted apart into wooden chunks. Only his head was left intact fully as it thumped to the ground, hollow and wooden.
"Huh" he said. "Well, that's a ringer, ain'tit?" Seth turned around with a throw of his coattails to the side and placed his left hand on the hilt of his long sword.
"Come on" Seth said, drawing his sword out with a flash of light and slicing whip of wind. "You want a challenge? I'll oblige! Come at me!"
"We don't want a challenge" a bounty robot declared.
"Just money" another hunter said.
"Let's drag that bastard's body in!" another called, referring to the Scotsman. Seth's eyebrow twitched and his mouth curled up in an agitated grimace. They had just got their hands around the Scotsman's body when Seth shouted out.
"Hey! I'm here now, you jackasses! Fight me!" Seth dashed forward, his hair a misty blur, and cut all their hands off in a single, fluid slice. The robots just let new weapon hands replace the claws and hooks that had been sliced, but two or three bounty hunters retreated with bleeding arms tucked under their armpits, screaming in pain as they ran in fear. Seth's eyes narrowed to fine points, sharp as hawk eyes, steeled with a shine of combative resolve. He attacked the robots and drove them away from the Scotsman's body. One robot, with a plain boxy frame and bending limbs, drew out two automatic gun-hands and fired at Seth. The others did the same and Seth found himself under a hail of gunfire. He gripped his sword tightly in both hands and began slashing the bullets from the air, a simple task for him complicated only by the body of a friend behind who prevented him from deflecting in all directions at once. The guns finally emptied and, before the first robot could draw out its blades to replace the guns, Seth was upon it.
His body twisted and threw itself with each slash of his sword as he cleanly cleaved the robot to pieces. Then, as the thing crackled and sparked, about to ignite and explode, Seth jumped away and stabbed his sword down through the head of the nearest robot, reaching the tip of the blade all the way to the ground where the stray death-throes of electricity were routed. The robot corpse collapsed once Seth's sword was withdrawn to his grip and he went on to continue his fight. The next two robots, with spherical joints and smoother chassis', charged upon Seth with rapidly moving blades attached to gyro wrists. Seth blocked them and stepped away, little knowing how close to the shelf of the cliff the robots were forcing him.
As he fended off the bounty robots the Scotsman woke up and rubbed his head with a tired, dry groan. "Ach, me head" he said. "I feel like I've been tackled by a boulder-golem. What happened?" The Scotsman looked around at the familiar terrain and noticed all that Seth had done to help defend him. He propped himself up against his own sword and turned around to see Seth still fighting the robots near the dangerously steep drop. "Ah, criminy! Watch out, girly-head!"
Seth was startled by the Scotsman's voice but reacted just as well. He let the robot blades press down on his and pushed them away with a jump. Then, bringing his sword around his body, he delivered two powerful slashes that cut both robots in half, then dashed between them and sheathed his sword to the hilt with a click. The robots fell to pieces off the cliff and their internal fuses blew out all at once. Seth looked back and saw the remains of the druid snaking their way off the cliff face, hugging the rock wall, in retreat.
"Thanks" Seth said as he approached the Scotsman. He nodded and put a hand up to the air.
"Don't think anyone owes anyone any favors, now" the Scotsman said. "I've still got a duty here, and by Golly, I'm aiming to see through with it."
"Good man" Seth said. "Where do you suspect your wife is now?" The Scotsman jerked and wrenched his sword until it was out of the ground and sheathed it on his back holster.
"If I know her" the Scotsman said "I'm willing to bet she's bein held prisoner in the highest tower of the main palace! That thing, right there!" He pointed up to the concave curve of windows that acted as the palace watchtower, not knowing just how close he really was.
"Let's go then" Seth said. "According to my Gem, the source of the Goblins power over nature is in there as well!"
"Two birds with one ballista!" the Scotsman shouted. "Perfect! I'll find me bonny lass, you steal their Gem of power, and we'll meet up to find Jack if he doesn't find us first."
"I get the feeling he'll be right behind us somewhere up the road" Seth said. He and the Scotsman began their run, a straight run for the castle gates where the Orcs, Goblins and other unsightly guards of the palace had gathered to prevent just them from entering. In a moment of genius tactical enlightenment, Seth pulled out his Gem and gathered a tight, crackling cloud of leaping sparks around his clenched fist.
"Thundara!" he shouted. He punched and let fly a wide netting of lightning that arced and jumped form guard to guard, riding the metal of their armor like a current to debilitate the entire line. He and his ally withheld their triumph and praise and ran over the smoldering bodies into the palace gates...
Deep within the winding corridors, earthen halls and rooms and passages of the great Goblin Palace, the Goblin King in all his wonder, royalty and power, knelt before a greater power. In the innermost sanctum of the great, winding caves that nature had carved, an ancient structure of great marble columns grown over with moss and crystal-clear water trickling through the tubes in the cave walls sat with a regal, crisp air. These pure ivory columns stood all in a circle around a pedestal of light-blue crystal which sat under a marble and granite arch carved with hieroglyphs obscured by growth. A healthy green glow shone out from the walls where the moss and flowers had grown out of the pure, holy water alone. On that pedestal in the middle of the sanctuary was a Gem, round and perfect with a swirling, earthen cloud of dirt-brown and desert gold.
It shined its radiating rays out in all directions, illuminating the cave with the light of the sun, empowering the growth of life and the miracles of creation to converge upon in. It called out in an earthen silence to the dirt and the rocks and all around it to grow and be fruitful. It gave the Goblins the land they had, keeping the shelves of the cliff-face from crumbling under their weight despite their incredible efforts to build inside the solid rock instead. It gave them a bountiful river and the growth of life to support the herds of cattle. This was the source of the King's greatness, his power and his influence. A treasure stolen long ago and put to use for the benefit of his people, the Gem of Earth!
And now that King rose and slowly opened his eyes.
"So you've arrived" he said. He turned around and drew out his sword, just as tall as he, solid gold from tip to hilt, wrapped in exotic silken ropes to suit his grip and as wide as his crooked, wrinkled green nose. The Scotsman's Wife stood in the opening of the chamber, a curtain-hung door arched from within with marble engravings, and looked around with a whistle.
"Right spiffy place, you've got here" she said. "Wouldn't mind meeting your decorator. Could use a tip or two from them to spruce up me own home like this, all Greek and whatnot."
"Enough pleasantry!" the King bellowed in his booming tenor. "You are here for me, are you not?"
"Ah, calm down" she said, drawing her sword which was dented and scratched from her fighting through the palace guards. "Of course I'm here for that. And that, while I'm at it." She pointed past him to the pedestal where the Gem was shining brightly. The King turned with a nasty leer and a malicious grin, holding up his sword in a show of pure strength over his head. "It looks nice, alright. I could use it in a necklace or a bracelet; any kind of jewel will be an improvement over the crusty old relics and statues cared by forest madmen we've got hanging about in our den!" The King grunted and lunged at her. His speed, power, agility, direction, control; all were fit for his title. She defended as best as she could and heard her sword begin to break under the King's constant force. He was a short, little green man and had to jump and spin twice in the air before delivering a powerful enough blow.
She kept herself light and danced around, retreating from him, keeping up her guard against the heavy royal blade. She caught him on a heavy swing and swung him against the wall where he planted his feet, crouched his tiny but powerful legs and sprang at her with his sword aimed straight, like a razor-sharp missile. She jumped out of the way, into the water, and felt a cooling calmness overtake her. She shook her head and walked back up onto dry land where her temper was dried and heated with her hot battle mood. She was aggressive now and started swinging with all her might, like swatting a fly with the thin, vulnerable blade in her hand. The King landed and made a powerful running-start uppercut slash which shattered her blade into shards. She stepped back, looking around for a replacement, but found nothing and was forced to stare down, far down, the golden edge of the King's sword.
"Now do you see" he asked "the difference in our power?" She didn't care for his gloating and kicked the sword out of his hands. As heavy as it was, her foot was heavier and her body was more powerful than his grip. The sword fell against the ground where its owner and King had been, and she pinned him up against the wall with one arm while winding up a punch with the other.
"Yes" she said "I do!" The King winced and shut his eyes. She drove her fist forward and punched hard.