Goblin Diaries, Vol 12: A Toothache and an Escape Plan
(from the August 16, 2024 newsletter)
23rd Day of Winter Moon, 1218th Year, Human Age of Magic …
Again, the date I’ve entered is an approximation. Measurement of the passage of time in my dark and windowless cell is becoming more and more difficult. But after what just happened today, I see my first ray of hope.
About a week ago (I think) I had a wild
idea. My jaw had been hurting, and I suspected I might be developing an
infected tooth. I was considering whether I should try to remove it myself or
go through the painful process of letting it decay and grow back on its own,
when it struck me. Why not ask to see a dentist?
Not that its necessary, or even that I’d
let some hack of a human ‘doctor’ put his hands in my mouth, but if I could get
out of here—or even get someone to open the cell door—my chances of escape
would increase exponentially.
So, I complained to one of the guards, and
I told him a goblin toothache could be fatal under my present circumstances. I
hinted that my death might bring unwanted attention from the Fae Protectorate—I
think that’s the only thing keeping me alive, by the way—and that Mazuom might
not appreciate it if I expired under the watchful eye of said guard.
I wasn’t sure if my plea got through. Gods
of Urgule, these zombie mind slaves the warlock has guarding me seem to have
had their brains so scrambled I wonder if they understand anything going on
around them. But lo and behold, today the guard admitted a man in the robes of
a local physician to my cell!
The poor human, for all his good
intentions, had no clue about goblin orthodontics. But he did acknowledge the
swelling in my jaw, which has gotten gradually worse since I complained
about it, and he wants to examine me in his office!
I don’t know if the powers that be will
allow it, but it gives me some hope to cling to. If I can get anywhere outside
this cell, there is a chance I may escape!
