That… that is not possible… that is not how goblins speak… it just isn’t. I know he’s a Bracken… but they can’t be that different… surely.

  Dwynfel: “Excuse me…”

  Scout: “How are you the one who is confused here? You kidnapped me, you dumb fuck!”

  Dwynfel: “You aren’t supposed to talk like this.”

  Scout: “Neither are you. You’re a Grim, Grim don’t take male prisoners. I should be dead… unless I have accidentally discovered the only gay Grim in existence. In which case you may as well kill me right now, because if bumfuckery is what you have in mind, then I swear I will clench so hard that I will snap it the fuck off.”

  Well, that is just… no.

  Dwynfel: “Oh, gods, no… that is absolutely not what is going on here… there is no… bumfuckery… going on here… I can assure you of that.”

  Scout: “Then why am I here, Grim?”

  Dwynfel: “I am not here on behalf of the Grim. I have no affiliation with any nest.”

  Scout: “Bullshit. I threw your ass to the ground. Somebody else got me from behind. No way you’re alone. Incidentally, do you have any idea how much my head fucking hurts right now?”

  Dwynfel: “I do apologise for your head. I just wanted to gag you and tie you up. My friend Damecus, he isn’t really one for subtlety.”

  Scout: “I knew you weren’t alone!”

  Dwynfel: “I never claimed to be alone… I just said I wasn’t here on behalf of the Grim. Damecus is a lizardman.”

  The scout took a moment to think before eventually losing the quizzical look on his face and looking at me with vague sincerity.

  Scout: “I suppose being a slave to the lizardmen is better than an ass raping.”

  Dwynfel: “Ass raping was never on the cards!”

  Scout: “Glad to hear it, now perhaps you can explain to me what my new lizard overlords want from me.”

  I feel like he is making this more difficult than it needs to be.

  Dwynfel: “I’m not here on behalf of the lizardmen either.”

  Scout: “You know, instead of saying who you aren’t here for, maybe say who you are here for.”

  Dwynfel: “I’m trying… you keep side-tracking me! Look… just… can we just start again?”

  Scout: “By all means…”

  Dwynfel: “My name is Dwynfel Vesidia. I am here on behalf of Lady Smutisha Smythe of the human republic of Vardan. Do tell me your name.”

  Scout: “Keith.”

  He's taking the piss. I should have known he wouldn’t cooperate.

  Dwynfel: “That’s not a goblin name!”

  Keith: “Fuck you. We take our names from the books we’ve found. Not all goblins are deeply illiterate fucktards like the Grim and the Rakk you know. You colourful pricks are the reason everyone thinks all goblins are rampaging psychopathic rapists.”

  Dwynfel: “Well clearly not everyone… because Lady Smythe has dragged me here to try to form an alliance with you.”

  Keith: “Is she insane?”

  Dwynfel: “Yes. The woman is a complete lunatic… but she fully intends to make this alliance a thing… so my question to you is simply… can you get us into your camp to speak to your leader about this? Or will we be killed on sight?”

  Keith looked at me with a look of absolute confusion.

  Keith: “You’re fucking serious!”

  Dwynfel: “Yes, I am.”

  Keith: “Before I answer… tell me this. Exactly how did this lady of yours end up with a Grim and a Lizardman in here employ?”

  Dwynfel: “To explain that I’ll basically have to tell you my life story.”

  Keith looked around the room before glaring at me in a sarcastic manner.

  Keith: “I’ve got time…”

  I proceeded to tell Keith the story of my life up to this point. Obviously omitting various things… like Kiyui’s history and the whole half demon thing… as well as… well… ya know… the sex bits… because… well… he doesn’t need to know about my deep-rooted psychological issues… or my issues with longevity in that department.

  Dwynfel: “And that basically brings us to this conversation.”

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  Keith: “So, I was right.”

  Dwynfel: “What?”

  Keith: “I have come across the only gay Grim.”

  Dwynfel: “What?”

  Keith: “Well, you are clearly fucking the cat boy.”

  After everything that I have just said… that is what he focusses on… really?

  Dwynfel: “I absolutely did not say that!”

  Keith: “Didn’t need to, mate. The way you talk about him. It’s obvious, hell, you’ve put him on such a pedestal that I’d fuck him at this point. And believe me, I am all about the ladies under normal circumstances.”

  Dwynfel: “Can we get back to the point!”

  Keith: “So basically, the insane woman, who is horny for goblins, wants to form an alliance with us, to prove to the world that goblins aren’t entirely evil.”

  I did not, at any point, say that she was horny for goblins.

  Dwynfel: “I mean… maybe don’t phrase it like that to others… but yes, basically.”

  Keith: “Sure, could be a laugh. I like this fort. It has lots of books in it. I’d rather we didn’t have to leave it.”

  Dwynfel: “Great.”

  Keith: “Don’t know how many people you brought here, but you won’t be allowed to bring a big group inside the fort, at least not yet.”

  Dwynfel: “Will four of us be okay?”

  Keith: “I can work with four. Oh and, before we continue, I’ve read a lot of books… and… well… your storytelling style. It’s a bit eclectic.”

  It would seem that we have abducted the most irritating Bracken in existence.

  Dwynfel: “I wasn’t telling that story for your amusement… I was trying to convey the information as accurately as possible.”

  Keith: “Which is an admirable goal. But you keep getting sidetracked by random things, like what people smell like, or these random children that you seem to have acquired. I really didn’t need to know that the ginger kid likes to prat about in a purple cape, that has absolutely no relevance to what’s going on right now.”

  Dwynfel: “Look, I’m sorry if I got a bit sidetracked… my mind kind of wanders in random directions… and those kids are important to me… so forgive me if I talk about them a lot… and as for the smell thing… you’re a goblin… do you not notice smells?”

  Keith: “Of course I notice them. But I wouldn’t bring them up unless they were particularly odorous. It’s like you are obsessed with these oddly specific things.”

  This is just a personal attack now.

  Dwynfel: “Oh, you can hardly talk… after that entire story, the first thing you bring up is the gay thing.”

  Keith: “Of course it is, you hardly went for the subtle undertones option. The second this Tilda wasn’t around, suddenly, you’re obsessed with the guy. I’m surprised you could drag yourself away from him long enough to go on this little mission of yours.”

  Dwynfel: “Look… I admit… I have a slightly obsessive nature…”

  Keith: “Slightly?”

  Dwynfel: “Oh, you know what… shut up… I didn’t come here to be mocked by you.”

  Keith: “And you really don’t need to directly quote the entirety of every single conversation.”

  Dwynfel: “What?”

  This guy is driving me insane.

  Keith: “You can just say “we talked about this, this was concluded.” I don’t need to know every syllable… or that the kid interrupted cause he needed a piss. Just skip to the important bits.”

  Dwynfel: “I like to give as much information as possible so that everybody has the same information as me, then people can’t misinterpret me, or highlight if I have understood something wrong.”

  Keith: “You can do that without being so anal about telling me every single pointless word.”

  Dwynfel: “Look… leave me alone… you asked how we got to this point, so I told you. Now stop being a dick about the way I told you. I am not engaging with you about this anymore. We set off for the fort in an hour.”

  Keith: “Oh lovely, I’ll get packing.”

  Dwynfel: “Oh, ha bloody ha.”

  Keith: “Well, what’s the point of giving me that time frame? I’m tied to a fucking post. You can be as late as you like. Makes no fucking difference to me, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  Dwynfel: “Has anyone ever told you that you are a deeply annoying individual?”

  Keith: “Aww, does that mean a three way with your cat boy is off the cards then? Gutted.”

  He pulled a highly exaggerated face of disappointment. I am really beginning to think that we abducted the wrong goblin here. If he annoys the rest of his camp as much as he is annoying me then they’ll probably start a fight with us simply hoping that he will get killed in the crossfire… this guy is a dick!

  I, like Dwynfel, feel like doing so provides clarity, but other people think it causes the conversation to be overly long. I find it interesting the way that people convey information differently, but I am also very aware that it can lead to friction.