It was a bright, sunny day. Had the protagonists been able to run a travel agency it would have been an excellent day to arrive at the alpine hotel with tired and bus-sick tourists. Now, they had to settle with arriving alone on foot to the top of a vast slope in the mountains. At least the view was good.
Or was it so good? What was that in the distance? Something was moving…
Goblins!
The relationship between goblins and dwarfs went back a long way. They had fought like a couple in a tiresome tv-show for centuries over caves and mountains. Or, more correctly, over caves under mountains. The goblins had always insisted that the labour should be divided in the traditional way; dwarfs mining and goblins stealing and hoarding. The dwarfs did however maintain their view that they should do BOTH the mining AND hoarding, something that gravely upset the goblins. The results could continuously be seen in geographical maps where places changed names from "the Sunny hills", "the Flowery field" and "the Winding Maze" to "the Bloody Corpse-littered field" and "the Tomb". The latest goblin enterprise – the Battle of Five Armies – had been an epic fail. The victory had cost the dwarfs a lot as well, and no plans existed regarding any invasion westwards. At least not at the moment…
Runar looked carefully at the approaching party, still far away.
-Those five goblins are chasing the sixth! They don't seem to be friends at all…
-Since when are goblins friends with anyone?! Any ideas how we get out of this alive with the proper number of heads and limbs? Halvdan barked.
-We are at war with the goblins, right?
-OF COURSE WE ARE! And why, one might wonder, when the great diplomat Runar is here, as usual very busy making peace and signing agreements, highly complicated diplomatic work which for an outsider layman might, just MIGHT, look like HE IS DOING NOTHING AT ALL!?
-Allright, allright, don't get hysterical! You are almost behaving like a berserker. My point is, since we are at war; we, while technically being non-combat agents, should have full authority to defend ourselves and slay that goblin band in a manner most gruesome, right?
-We are about to get killed and eaten by a mad band of undersized orcs and you worry about diplomatic etiquette?!
-Part of the job, after all.
-Are plans part of the job, if one may be so bold to ask?
-Certainly sir. Assemble the pole arms if you please.
-What pole arms? We have neither halberds nor voulges packed and you know it!
-Shortsighted as always Halvdan. Give me your poles and one of the metal cylinders marked "Quili Secret Systems". It should be in the lower left pocket of my backpack.
-Quili Se…you don't mean you brought something made of Q, the infamous spy engineer? You are even more insane than I could possibly imagine if you even consider using it!
-Please halvdan, DO try to be polite. His proper name is Quili.
-His proper name at the spy academy is Q. Q as in Quack!
-Now look here. Take one pole and the metal cylinder…then…and attach…there, that should do it.
-Now what?
-Look forward. Five goblins infantrymen. No pikes or halberds. No insane stakes-appearing-out-of-nowhere script from the evil AI modder gods. Spot any vulnerability?
-So we…with…these?
-Yep.
-This better work or I will rise from the grave and kill you a second time after the goblins are finished with you. Ready.
-Then…
Downhill charged the two bearded skiers, couching the pointy two-pole lances and bending their knees to keep the balance and pick up speed. No puny goblins could withstand the impact of pole arms down the hill and the enemy was quickly routed.
It had been a truly epic battle. The war gods were deaf after shouting unheard advice and the partakers lay exhausted, resting temporarily (dwarfs) as well as permanently (goblins). Runar and Halvdan eventually got up and started to recollect their gear and walk back to their dropped luggage at the top. Suddenly they realised they were not alone. A shivering, grey little creature was moving behind a stone nearby. It was the snaga that had been chased by the goblins. The snaga they had just rescued looked at them with large eyes. He seemed to be scared but too exhausted to run any more. Runar approached him slowly.
-Please no hurt Dobby! The snaga squeaked, in the common tongue as strange as it may seem.
-No no, we come in peace. We won't hurt you.
-Promise you won't hurt Dobby?
-Of course. We are at war with the goblins, not their prey.
-Goblins evil. Goblins force Dobby to work all days and never gets enough to eat "sob". Dobby tired. Dobby try to rest and crawl into a barrel and goblins find the barrel and put it upside down and say they are gonna burn it up. Dobby scared and scream. Goblins take away barrel and laugh at Dobby. They tie Dobby to a rope hanging from a tree and say they will use Dobby as target when throwing knives the next day! Eeeeek!
The snaga was getting more and more terrified when remembering.
-Easy, the goblins are gone now. Here, have a cookie. Halvdan said.
-O-okay. It's not poisoned is it? Please no poison Dobby. Cut Dobbys head instead.
-NO! We mean you no harm Dobby.
-Dobby sorry. Dobby used to everyone harming him. Dobby so tired…
-No offence taken. How did you escape from the goblins?
-Dobby bite the rope and gnaw all night. Then rope break and Dobby fall to the ground. Dobby hurt. Dobby run for the forest and mountains. Goblins who caught Dobby come after him. Dobby faster and hide in the forest but goblins smell him and come after. Dobby have nothing to eat and gets tired and goblins gets closer for goblins have food with them and Dobby scared and and and…
-We understand, we understand. Said Runar.
The new trio took shelter behind some steep cliffs nearby, or rather the dwarfs did that while almost carrying the snaga. They managed to light a fire and gave Dobby some spare clothes, all of them too large but at least warm. Runar regretted that they had little to offer apart from roots and mushrooms and dry bread but Dobby seemed to love the roots. In order to save Dobby, Runar gave him a letter of free passage with proper seal and due complicated diplomatic sentences. Showing that, Dobby could seek refuge in Erebor and get help from Runars clan to find a farm to grow roots. Then Halvdan pointed out that the plan was an epic fail. Dobby risked being shot by crossbowmen before getting the chance to show the letter. To avoid this, Halvdan gave Dobby a cloak and a fake beard from his supply of disguises. With the hood and the beard obscuring his face, Dobby would look like a very small old dwarf. That would allow him to come close enough to show the letter of free passage.
Dobby was so unused to people being nice that he started to sob again. No one had ever given him clothes so he found it very overwhelming to have the cloak and the other packed clothes he had borrowed. In return Dobby described the way to the goblins but begged Runar and Halvdan not to go there because the goblins would harm them. Stupid as they were, the protagonists did not heed his wise and sensible words, but set out to meet more goblins.
While relieved for having survived the battle against the goblins, Runar mind was troubled. His diplomacy had so far made no difference in the relations between dwarfs and goblins, except possibly for the worse if the remains of their foes would be found. In the future, they would have to be much more diplomatic. Runar promised himself to look out more for renegade snagas and their pursuers in the future. Halvdan on his part were equally happy of their victory, especially since the illogical war gods (particularly the one known as Battlescreenya) had credited him with being the commander of the dwarf army. He hoped for a return to the more discreet approach they had utilized to cross the forest. But this time without special branches poking him in the neck.
