Out of Depths

[Mephit Naj'ara]

Mephit Naj’ara stood at a poorly built workbench in a small, one room cave that the population of the Night-Eyes tribe generally referred to as his home. He was dressed in badly woven patchwork leather pants, and no shirt, barefoot on the earthen floor. To say it was a hole in the ground was a bit of an understatement. For, beyond the ramshackle ties of boards that functioned as a door to his hole were dozens more similarly appointed holes in what is the Burrow of the gray goblins of the Underworld. Each hole honeycombed across the expanse of the larger central cavern. Through the entire complex, the sound of the nearby waterfall could be heard cascading down to the depthless pools far deeper into the cave system below.

Mephit tapped lightly on a cog in a trap set he was building. This was his job in the Night-Eyes clan, making traps to catch their archrivals, the greens. He had to make more traps than ever now, with the arrival of the surface dwellers that constantly invaded the main promenade of the Night-Eyes tribe.

Mephit tapped again on the gear, and grumbled in broken common.

“Meph make trap. No Meph. Make normal trap. Meph make more trap.”

His skill with the common language of the surface was still in its infancy, but when he was alone and the others couldn’t hear, he tried his best to practice it. The endless cadence of orders from the elders grated on him. He wasn’t allowed to build fantastic new traps that he invented and kept safely stored in his workbook under the pile of hay that served as his bed. They were amazing contraptions that would fling greens into walls, or into the pool of krakens. Traps that would drop a boulder on there head, or pepper them with spikes. The tribe elders demanded simple claw traps; hundreds and hundreds of consistent and simple machines. It was driving Mephit insane. His role in the tribe would never be more than what he was doing now as he tapped a new gear into place. It was the way of things.

His whole life, Mephit had dreamed of more than this, toiling away in a hole, making the same trap over and over again for his superiors. All the while his world never being bigger than the quarter mile of cave and tunnels in which the goblins lived.

The surface had opened, the gargoyle lands had been discovered, there was so much to learn. The goblin wanted to see the world. But the humans and elves seemed hostile and such an expansive place was frightening to him.

Though recently he had found a measure of hope in an unlikely source; a surface human that visited in disguise. It had been a rocky friendship at first, but surprisingly the human wanted to learn gob-speak, and Mephit began to enjoy that the human would trade goblin words for words in the Surface-tongues. The both of them had learned enough to at least reasonably communicate with the other, and soon the human’s tales of strange and wonderous places that he sees in his travels bolstered Mephit’s dreams of the surface and world above.

Mephit pulled on his extremely long goblin ear thoughtfully as he looked over the now-finished trap. He sighed and tossed it to the pile of ten exact copies in the corner of his hovel with a loud ‘clank’. The little goblin grumbled more as he collected the scraps of metal and wood that had been traded or stolen from the stinking rat tribes of the lower abyss. Mephit took up his stone and wood hammer in his three-fingered hand once more, and began to fashion the lever for another mechanism.

“Meph make more trap.”

It was the way of things in Mephit’s world. But soon, he hoped, it could change.

[Mephit Naj'ara]

Several nights later Mephit was carefully folding the ends of a large cloth together into a knot with what meager belongings he possessed. The Burrow-home was quiet. It was Slumbertime in the gray goblin tribe, as there was no such thing as night underground. Mephit was dressed in the only clothes he owned. A pair of heavily patch-worked leather pants, a threadbare and stained cotton shirt, and a pair of boots that had seen better days years ago. The little goblin inserted a stick into the knot of the little pack he had made.

Behind him, another gray goblin stood with his arms crossed. He was dressed as most gray goblins, walked with a well-practiced hunch, even ran with his chin forward as gray’s do. Unlike the other goblins of the tribe though, who had either bright coppery red or mottled golden eyes, huge bright sapphire eyes shown in the dimness. It was the only indication that he was in an illusionary disguise.

The blue-eyed goblin spoke in broken gob-speak Mephit had been teaching him, “O togaan Mephit?” (‘You sure Mephit?’)

Mephit turned to him and nodded, speaking in equally broken Common tongue, “Mephit sure, Xander Rayne.”

“Xander Rayne sure Mephit be okay?”

The disguised Xander nodded and smiled, “ ach daal’duulkaan Istas.” (‘All welcome in Istas’)

Mephit Naj’ara answered Xander’s smile with an excited, toothy smile of his own, and nodded.

For the passed several weeks as the both of them taught one another their individual languages, Xander had spoken to Mephit of his travels. Exploring tombs all over the world, finding treasures, and being the Curator of a grand museum in a city called Istas.
Mephit believed that the world above could offer so much more than the caste organization and small world of the gray goblin tribe of the Underworld. Mephit knew there would be difficulties. He imagined that goblins on the surface would not likely receive any more warm a welcome than a human or elf in the Underworld, but he wanted to try. To carve a place for himself in the world that was his very own.

Mephit looked around his sparsely furnished hovel one final time. The workbench, the straw and thatch bed, and the scraps of metal piled in one corner, then took to the shadows with Xander. They made their way to the entrance of the Underworld, and Xander opened a gate.

Mephit hopped through to begin the first day of the rest of his young life.

[Mephit Naj'ara]

As Mephit stepped through the gate, the blast of cold air nearly bowled him over. The icy winds of the Istas valley were still bitterly entrenched in their winter-time fury. Snow swirled around him, and the far off howl of winds through the massive peaks overhead surrounding them was ever-present.

“Ah!,” was the only sound Mephit could manage as he began shivering.

Xander Rayne, who was now in his human form having removed his ring of disguise, looked down to the goblin and winced.

“C’mon Mephit, this is the Hostel.”

The hostel rose like a warm beacon in the cold dark. Two small towers framed the central main tower of the gothic stone structure. The many windows of stained glass glowed brightly with the warmth of internal lights and hearth fires. Mephit hurried to the door with his meager stick pack on his shoulder. Xander crouched to look him in the eye as he spoke slowly for Mephit’s benefit in common, “I have some things to gather for you. This is the Hostel, and the Hostel Keeper, Mei Song is inside. Meet with her and arrange a room for yourself.”

Mephit nodded some, understanding most of what Xander said to him through chattering pointed teeth, “O-o-kay.”

He watched Xander head off into the dark and the snow. Goblin eyes are well attuned to darkness but in the thick snowfall Mephit was unable to see more than a few dozen yards passed the Hostel porch on which he now stood.

Mephit shivered again and hurriedly entered the main foyer room of Istas Hostel.

Inside a human woman was speaking to another man at the front desk. She wore form-fitting leathers. Her skin was a soft lightened hue, and her slightly slanted almond shaped eyes were a deep gray color. She looked to Mephit quizzically, and then introduced herself as Mei Song.

Her painted pink lips smiled warmly as Mephit began explaining who he was, and that he had come with Xander Rayne to Istas. Mei nodded, listening and after noting how cold the little goblin looked, took him upstairs to one of the hearth fire sitting rooms so he could warm up.

The both of them spoke for some time with Mephit crouched in front of the hearth fire. She spoke in whispers but Mephit’s keen goblin ears could hear her more clearly than most even at a few feet. They discussed their backgrounds, and she patiently listened to the goblins broken common. Mephit mentioned that she looked different than Xander, and she explained that she was a kind of human called "Tokunese." Mephit had nothing of value, he knew, one of his talents had always been fishing and arrangements were made to pay his room fee for now in small parcels of fish and other goods he could provide for the Hostel.

A few hours later, Mephit was standing in what was the most well furnished room he had ever seen. It seemed palatial to him. A bed that rose from the floor, tables, and closets the likes of which even the Elders of the goblin tribes did not possess.

He could hardly believe that this was a “smaller” room than the others, as Mei had explained. Mephit Naj’ara stood in awe of it all. So much had changed already for him in only a few hours of time.

Mephit’s awestruck silence was finally broken by a knock on the door. He turned and reached up to open it to find Xander Rayne smiling on the other side, and carried two large packs full of items.

Mephit motioned him in and Xander sat the packs on the table in the corner of the room.

Xander turned to him and began speaking broken goblin, “ Agakaan huul dhuur kuul?” (‘Arrange pay for room?’)

The goblin nodded and answered in the common tongue, “ Fish.”

Xander seemed to find that amusing as he grinned, but simply nodded.

“Magaan dec haar o tagaal,” (‘Have things get you started’) Xander said and motioned to the packs on the table.

Mephit looked to the packs and then to Xander , “ Mephit not know how to repay.”

Xander brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and peered over his glasses at Mephit still smiling.

“Ghalaan tuulkec or keklaan. Okuun or arthaan” (‘Make something of life. Enjoy ideas you have.)

Then Xander finished in common, “The rest will fall into place Meph. Whether your place is here or elsewhere, there’s no need to pay for a beginning.”

Mephit looked down, unsure of how to respond. But looked to Xander slowly and said, “thank to you, Xander Rayne.” Saying Xander’s full name as a show of respect in goblin culture.

Xander nodded and leaned down patting Mephit’s shoulder.

“Get some rest Mephit Naj’ara.”

Mephit nodded some as Xander walked to the door saying he would return to check in tomorrow.

Minutes later Mephit blew out the candle at his bedside and curled up into the warmest and most comfortable bed he had ever slept on. His saucer-like red copper eyes closed and sleep came immediately.

It was the best sleep the little goblin had ever known.