Goblins Know Best (The Trivial Trials of Bogrot & Gorag Book 1) by Beazley Daniel

Author:Beazley, Daniel [Beazley, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daniel Beazley
Published: 2013-01-05T16:00:00+00:00

We began the long journey towards Dragons’ Ledge two days later, just as the skies decided to rain down upon us. Rain can be very peculiar in Hiraxier as well as being quite ordinary, but today, ordinary wasn’t the case. Peculiar rain comes in many shapes and forms. First there is bouncy rain, that after having bounced on the ground four or five times finally settles. Then there is sticky rain that forms giant droplets upon you which, if you don’t brush them off, will eventually drown you. And finally there is upside-down rain which doesn’t really get you all that wet and usually occurs when the goblin god Durg opens the clouds the wrong way around.

Today it was bouncy rain, the worst kind in my opinion. Instead of getting merely wet, you get four or five times wetter as a result of all the bouncing. Fortunately I was well sheltered under the canopy of the wagon we’d been given after solving Merchant Lomas’ resident harpy problem, though my feet were beginning to get a little damp. Poor old Mona Lott, my pony who was pulling the cart, as well as Gorag who walked beside, were completely drenched. The benefit from all of this was that it meant the dragling didn’t keep poking his snout out of Gorag’s pack: dragons aren’t very keen on rain.

The downpour didn’t ease up until later that evening, after we had long passed Wellast and were beginning to think about making camp.

“I’s don’t like all dis rainy rain,” Gorag moaned, “I’s is all wet.”

“At least you don’t have a coat of hair to try and dry off,” Mona moaned. “If I don’t manage to dry out soon, it won’t be long before I start to smell all fusty!”

“Don’t worry you two,” I assured them. “We’ll make camp up ahead near those trees; that ought to provide some shelter. I’ll get a nice fire going and we’ll soon have something warm in our bellies; carrot broth for you, Mona, and a nice pig’s haunch for Gorag and me.”

“Mot loves warty meat,” Gorag grinned.

“Who’s Mot?” Mona asked.

“He’s me dragon, ain’t ya Mot?” Gorag said, followed by a clucking noise from inside his pack.

“I can’t believe that you’ve given him a name, Gorag. You understand that we’re taking him back to the Ledge, don’t you?” I said.

Gorag grunted and walked ahead of the wagon toward the small copse of trees ahead.

“Do you think he’s going to give the dragling up?” Mona asked.

“He’s going to have to,” I answered, unconvinced.

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