He projects beams of pure heat energy (with neato reddish orangish tint) from his eyes; they’d simply slag whatever’s in the path. Thin plastic would vaporize, not melt. And then he’d have to get new ones, which he’d struggle to afford on a reporter’s salary. (more…)

“Wake up, Safat!”

A reddish, slender goblin barely old enough to grow warts sniffed and began crawling upright. His body ached from being crammed in between earthenware goods in a pony-drawn wagon. At least I don’t have to walk. The tall goblin finally managed to pry his eyelids open.

The sky was missing. Or at least most of it was. There were massive stone fingers blocking the Safat from the sky and its soft clouds. Though he was one of the tallest Unnamed goblins in Creta, Safat felt tiny and completely insignificant under the stones. The shadow stretched in all directions, farther than the eye could see. Where does this rock end? What kind of rock is it? How is it purple? Safat scampered out of the wagon with curious eyes. He had to hop slightly as he hit the ground to keep from falling. The wagon train was still moving. A dozen more wagons and ponies marched towards him and he trotted to his father.

“Where are we, Father?” (more…)