A goblin is a legendary evil or mischievous creature, a grotesquely evil or evil-like phantom.
The author of this fantasy is Petr Borisovich Mordkovich, an author and an Israeli citizen. For reasons unnecessary to explain, he writes in Russian. He keeps a blog under pseudonim Bormor.
The fairy tale is
butchered translated using Google Translate with some assistance from yours truly.
A word of caution: don't start reading if you don't intend to get to the end of the story, since the lesson (every fairy tale has a lesson, you know) is in the last sentence. So:
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- The ad says that you have a quest to offer - half-elf said to the Burgomeister, - But it doesn't explain the essence of the quest. Could you clarify?
- Well, everything is simple - the Burgomeister shrugged . - Do you see that hill? There is a goblin there with a mortar. And he shells the city periodically. That's the whole problem.
- Yeah, of course, I see. So we have to kill the goblin ...
- What you are saying, no, G_d forbid!? - Burgomeister waved his arms in panic. - In no case could the goblin be killed!
- Why? - the Dwarf asked, surprised. - It's just a goblin!
- That's it exactly! If we kill him, the world community will say that it is genocide, and that we are racists...
- So what? Let the world community say what it wants.
- And send troops - grimly added Burgomeister.
- Hmm ... thought the half-elf aloud. - You mean, this motherfucker is shooting at you from a grenade launcher, and you suffer and do not dare to fight back?
- We don't dare - shrugged Burgomeister. - Otherwise, we'll be called aggressors.
- Well, and if, for example, instead of killing the goblin, you drive him away somewhere far enough?
- From his hill? Impossible. They will call us occupiers.
- Catch him and take away the launcher?
- Robbers.
- Lock him up with his mortar? .. Okay, okay, do not answer, - half-elf added quickly when Burgomeister opened his mouth. - I get it. Indeed, an interesting case.
- Well, what do you want from us? - Princess broke into the conversation. - You can't kill, can't disarm, to catch or to chase impossible too, so what is left? Re-education? It is not our profile.
- No, of course not... For re-education to work we would have called a psychologist. But, by the way, then the world community would blame us in applying psychological pressure.
- And desecrating indigenous traditions - added Gnome, shaking his head. - Shooting at humans from a grenade launcher - it's goblins' holy and sacred tradition!
- That's it - happily exclaimed Burgomeister - now you see what I mean.
- Well, so what is required by the quest then? - The Princess barged in again.
- Deliver the parcel - Burgomeister sighed.
- To whom? To the Goblin?
- Well, yes. For there, on the hill, there are no food reserves. So about an hour from now, the goblin will get hungry, declare a truce and begin negotiations. He does so every day. Demands that he be brought food, wine, weapons, sometimes other things... And then, when he feels full, he declares that the peace talks have stalled and he was forced to resume fire. World public opinion is very sympathetic to him. The world community believes he is a goblin of principle.
- And if you refuse to provide him with food and weapons...
- Then the world community will...
- Okay, okay, we see - waved his hands half-elf.
- ... and send troops - Burgomeister mumbled.
- Fine, but why do you need us? Why don't you send one of yours to carry that bag?
- We've sent ours already. Nobody returned.
- What, the goblin killed them all?
- He claims that he hadn't.
- Oh...
- And the world community believes him.
- Ah...
- And they say that we are provocateurs. You see, apparently he, the goblin, comes up with these peace initiatives, it is his gesture of goodwill. And if something goes wrong, it is only our fault. It is obvious! And you are... well, sort of like outsiders, he can't touch you.
- Well, - summed up the half-elf. - If we discard the political crapola, all we are required to do is to pick up the package at the customer's premises and take it to the addressee, right? A normal postal quest. But everything else is your problem. Correct?
- That's right - confirmed Burgomeister - so it's okay, then?
- It's a deal - half-elf nodded. Burgomeister breathed a sigh of relief.
- Can I ask a question? - The Princess raised her hand. - Here you are, so afraid that the world community will call you aggressors or warlords or even worse than that - So how do they call you now?
- Idiots - replied the Burgomeister sadly.
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