“Don't jump to conclusions.”
Evel Knievel* #quote
CJ's birthday is this weekend. Getting ready his gift and stuff. It shall be a most joyous occasion I bet. Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Goblin Palace
Goblins are weak, frail creatures. Easily bullied by any other being. Humans, elves, ogres, whatever creature in whatever land could pick on a goblin. Their only advantage was in numbers. They could team up to protect each other. But even then they felt tiny. As they wore their tattered clothes and lived in straw huts they wondered if they could become even grander.
They saw that other creatures built huge palaces. Many of the most grandest things a species had was their palaces. Elves and humans especially loved their palaces. In a consensus a whole three countries of goblins decided to build a palace. All wanting to be grand in some way they still made their livings but every hobby became working on the palace or helping with its construction in some way. It became an international phenomenon. It shattered goblin culture so much it became bigger than the Beatles did.
It took a decade, as many cultural phenomenons do. But with three countries spending every hour of their free time obsessively working on it(and every employed worker obsessed beyond their paid obligation) it turned out to be the most marvelous palace in all the known lands. Fully furnished and spreading several acres while also having twenty floors and balconies they mixed in every kind of architecture they heard about but managed to keep it not looking messy. Everything was beautiful.
Though in the years following the goblins merely just maintained the palace and rented it out to the other species. They stayed in the straw huts and were content with it being an accomplishment and not a living space.