Vez the Vulgarian

t the top of an old tower, hanging by a rusty chain, a helpless maiden listened intently from her iron cage. She had been placed there by a dragon who saw her as a treasure to add to their collection. Her cage was spacious, and well furnished. She had a bed and a fainting couch; an armoire full of fine dresses, a vanity and a silver candelabra. She paced back and forth across an intricate wool carpet and she tried to visualize the conflict happening somewhere beneath her, out of view. Below, the clashing of steel and the crackling roars of the dragon’s fire sent tremors up the stone tower. Her heart raced in her chest at the hope of being rescued by a dashing prince. Surely news of her abduction had reached the ears of every eligible knight and noble across Coratonia, and it had been at least a month since the dragon had taken her.

She ran over to her mirror. Although her hair was clean, and her dress was pleasant, she still wanted to make a good first impression. Would she have time to change? She inspected the many dresses in her armoire. Maybe the blue and pink dress would look better on her. It was the newest. The dragon had just brought it for her yesterday.

Suddenly, there was a cry of anguish from below. The dragon cried out in pain. The knight must have succeeded! She looked at the blue and pink dress. For a moment she felt sad for the dragon. Even though the beast snatched her away against her will, it had been very hospitable toward her. Yes, she was in a cage, but it was spacious and well furnished.

The maiden shoved the dress back into the armoire and slammed it shut. She waved her hands wildly in the air to rid herself of any sympathy for the dragon, as if shooing away insects. That beast did not deserve her sympathy, no matter how much it had pampered her.

The dragon’s moans faded. The clang of iron greaves and chainmail echoed off the stone walls. Her hero was approaching.

The maiden rushed over to the edge of her cage and peered down. Her prison dangled from the roof of a three-story stone tower. There were no stairs up the tower. At least there hadn’t been for some time. The dragon always flew up to her whenever it wanted.

Below her, a figure clad from head to toe in shining armor strode near the tower’s base.

“Up here, sir knight!” she shouted, waving her arm outside of the bars.

The knight paused and looked up. He wore a bucket-shaped helmet with a face guard, which tilted up towards her in response to her calls.

“There’s a lever along the west wall that will lower my cage,” she shouted down to him, pointing toward a mechanism on the tower wall.

The knight turned his attention toward the lever and gave it a mighty pull. The rusty chain rhythmically clanked as it slowly lowered to the ground.

The maiden patted her hair nervously, fidgeting as the cage slowly lowered to the tower’s base. She didn’t want to seem too eager to be rescued, so she positioned herself in the middle of the cage. She also grabbed a fan to give herself some mystique.

The cage neared the floor, but the knight was not yet visible. Then, his bucket helmet came into view. The maiden’s heart skipped in her chest, but outwardly she remained poised. Then, the cage came to a halt. The knight’s helmet peeked over the floor of the cage.

She paused for a moment, unsure what to do. She expected the cage to lower all the way to the floor, but she instead dangled at the knight’s eye-level. There was a silence that lingered to the point of awkwardness.

“Ah. Ha, ha, ha. I guess this is my stop,” the maiden said with a nervous laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

The knight looked around without saying anything. He dipped his head under the cage for a moment, then he grasped the edge of the cage and gave it a small shake. The cage was stuck.

The maiden stood in the center of her cage, hiding part of her face with the fan. She waited for the knight to say something, anything. The knight gave up on the cage and moved to inspect the mechanism on the wall. That’s when she noticed his height.

The knight was… not tall. Much shorter than expected. He was maybe half her height. The cage was actually closer to the ground than she thought.

“Ummm…” The maiden felt compelled to say something, but didn’t have the words. Surely there was a logical explanation for his short stature. Maybe he was the squire of the knight who came to rescue her.

With a loud clang, the knight smacked the mechanism with his gauntlet, and the iron cage dropped to the stone floor, the impact toppling the maiden.

The maiden picked herself up, and with a hint of frustration in her voice, addressed the knight. “It’s polite to warn someone before you drop them.”

The knight then moved toward the lock on the cage to inspect it. He pulled out a metal tool of some kind and began fiddling with the lock.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” the maiden asked with bare minimum politeness.

The knight faced her. She heard a muffled sound coming from inside his helmet.

“What was that?” she asked intently, cautiously moving closer to the edge of the cage.

The knight reached up under his face guard and pulled a damp cloth from his helmet. He dropped it onto the stone floor with a sloppy thud. The knight coughed and cleared his throat.

“Sorry.” His voice was a little raspy. “It’s a special cloth to filter out smoke, but it’s all sweaty now.”

The maiden face tightened as she cringed.

“Do you know where the dragon hid the key?” asked the knight. His voice was nasally and his words plain.

“Remove your helmet,” the maiden said, suspiciously.

“If you don’t know where the key is, I can pick the lock. It will just take some time,” replied the knight.

“Your helmet!” commanded the maiden. “Off with it now!”

The knight stepped back for a moment. After a second or two, he took both hands and pressed them against the sides of his helmet, and slid it up. In the dim light of the stone tower, the maiden stared in disbelief as the helmet lifted, revealing a green neck, green chin, green cheeks, and then… two large, pointy ears sprung out from under the helmet. Before the knight could finish, the maiden dropped her fan and let out a scream.

“Ahhhhhh!” screamed the maiden. “No no no no! I am NOT being rescued by a goblin!”

The knight finished removing his helmet, exposing a bulbous nose, two silver eyes, and a head of messy black hair. He looked unamused at the maiden’s reaction.

“Look, lady. I was sent here to rescue you, and I don’t get paid unless I bring you back,” explained the goblin.

“Who sent you?” demanded the maiden.

“Your father, who else?” replied the goblin.

“My father hired a goblin instead of a knight to save me!?” The maiden’s words dripped with disgust.

The goblin blinked at her. “I am a knight,” he stated plainly. “And, I’m very good at what I do.”

“Who knighted you? What is your title?” asked the maiden.

The knight returned to picking the lock on the cage. Without looking at her, he replied, “I am Sir Vez.”

“Sir Vez? Sir Vez the what?” asked the maiden indignantly. “Sir Vez the green? Sir Vez the lockpick?”

The knight ignores her. He seemed to really dislike “Sir Vez the green.” After a few minutes, the old cage door swung open on rusty hinges. Sir Vez stepped aside to let the maiden out. She stood there in protest for a moment, then stuck her nose in the air and strode out of the cage without looking at Sir Vez.

She continued walking, realizing that she never really saw the rest of the ruined castle. She turned a corner and stopped abruptly as she saw the corpse of the dragon that had abducted her.

There were several spears thrust into the dragon’s beige underbelly and a sword buried deep between the dragon’s eyes, with the hilt of the sword pressing against the dragon’s blue scales like a giant pin.

Sir Vez shuffled out from behind her, and started to pull the spears out of the dragon. He lay the spears in a pile, except for the few that were broken, which he tossed aside. He then climbs up onto the dragon’s head and grasps the sword.

“You might want to look away for a moment, this won’t be pretty.”

The maiden lifted her nose in the air and did a half turn away, but watched out of the corner of her eye.

Vez took a wide stance, pressed his foot on one of the dragon’s curved horns, and began to lift. The dragon started to convulse as little spurts of blood sprayed out.

“IT’S STILL ALIVE!?” the maiden stammered in disbelief.

Vez stopped, and looked at her. As he did, the dragon stilled. “It’s very dead, but my sword is magical, and it’s wedged in the dragon’s brain. It’s tough to explain, but I don’t think you’ll want to watch.”

This time the maiden turned all the way around.

There was a wet, gurgly, suction noise behind her as Vez pulled the sword further out. The dragon’s scales tapped and scraped along the stone floor as its large body flopped like a fish in a pool of its own blood.

The maiden covered her ears and shouted, “Just pull the sword out already!”

Sir Vez let out an arduous grunt, and with a viscous pop, the sword was freed and the dragon’s body went limp again.

“That was disgusting!” shouted the maiden. “Ugh, I can stand the sight of this! If you must take me to my father, then do so as quickly as possible!”

“If you didn’t like that, you’re going to hate what I’m going to do next,” said Sir Vez with a smirk. “Every ten scales is worth a gold Krut, and armorers pay well for the teeth and fangs. Oh, and if its liver is intact, I’ll cook it later tonight.”

The maiden’s stomach twisted into a knot as a sensation rose up her throat. She gagged as her face contorted with disgust and disbelief.

“Take me out of here!” she demanded while trying not to be sick.

Sir Vez nodded. He jumped off the dragon’s head, bundled the spears, and led the maiden past the dragon’s corpse. The ruined castle was well hidden in a swamp. The north side had long sunk into the murky waters, and most of the walls had been claimed by gnarled vines. Even as she stepped outside the ruins, when she looked back, the stone tower was obscured by the mossy trees.

A short distance from the ruin, in a small clearing behind some bushes, the maiden found the goblin’s camp. A magical lantern glowed on the ground next to a wooden cart. And next to the cart was a large, hairy, pig with tusks. Sir Vez pointed to the cart and sow, and said, “You can wait there. Soup will watch over you.”

“The pig?” asked the maiden in disbelief.

“She looks scary, but she’s a gentle spirit.”

“The pig’s name is ‘Soup’?”

Sir Vez shrugs. “She likes soup.” He then returned to the castle ruins to harvest the dragon.

The maiden slowly walked toward the resting boar, but not too close. She sat down in a dry patch of grass and stared at the sow, who stared back, belly flat on the grass. She caught herself longing for the comforts of the dragon’s cage. Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant howl of some unseen creature. She looked up and could barely see the night sky through the dense canopy; the magical lantern was an island of light in a sea of darkness.

When she was inside the dragon’s lair, she couldn’t hear the sounds of the swamp… she also couldn’t smell it. Every now and then, the air seemed to shift, and a putrid breeze drifted over her. At first she thought it was the boar, but no animal could be credited with such a variety of nauseating scents. She wished she had worn that blue and pink dress, it had a ruffled collar that she could bury her nose in.

✿

The maiden woke to gentle, moist kisses on her cheek. She smiled and stretched as she stirred from her slumber. As she opened her eyes, she found Soup’s snout poking her face.

“Uaagggkkk!” the maiden spat, fearing that she might have some of the pig’s mucus in her mouth.

Sir Vez had already loaded his wagon with burlap sacks speckled with blood. He had started a proper campfire and set a wide pan on hot stones, the dragon’s liver sizzling on the pan. No longer clad in armor, he wore a tabard over simple clothes. His tabard had an insignia of what looked like a corpse flower, a foul plant known for its terrible smell. 

“I preferred you with the helmet on,” moaned the maiden.

“I wanted to wake you earlier…” replied Sir Vez. “But Soup insisted that I let you sleep in.”

The maiden sat up. She noticed bits of grass in her hair and dirt on her hands. A waft of the dragon’s grilled liver drifted toward her, its scent stinging her nostrils.

“You’re not going to get me to eat that,” reported the maiden.

Vez sighed. “I guess I made too much then.”

The goblin finished cooking the liver and gave a larger helping to his sow. The maiden’s stomach reminded her how hungry she was, but she stoically sat with her arms crossed while Sir Vez and Soup ate their breakfast. After some time, Sir Vez inspected the wagon’s harness, then informed the maiden that she should go to the bathroom before they departed. The maiden lets out a “hmph,” then speechlessly strode into the bushes, purposely taking as much time as possible.

✿

The arduous trek through the gnarled swamp was not aided by the air of protest emanating from the maiden. Every time Vez swatted a fly on his neck, the maiden huffed in disgust. Whenever the ground became soggy, she groaned until her feet were again on dry ground. Sir Vez was definitely aware of the maiden’s displeasure, but said nothing and kept leading them east.

Then, Sir Vez stopped at the edge of a wide body of water full of reeds. He sighed and turned to the maiden. “Look, you’re not going to like this part. We have to go through the water.”

“Certainly not!” scoffed the maiden.

“Look, we’re not too far from the edge of the swamp,” explained Sir Vez. “If we swim to that bank over there, we can save hours and make it to your father’s before sunset. You’re tall enough that you can probably wade through.”

“Ugh! You probably wish me to disrobe before you!” said the maiden. “You know I am without swimming attire!”

“Please, keep your dress on,” said the goblin flatly.

“How do I even know you’re taking me to my father!?” shouted the maiden. “This could be some elaborate trick! You probably wish to ransom, or sell me to some—”

Suddenly, Soup chomped down on the maiden’s dress and pulled her to the ground. The pig then climbed over her, pinning her to the ground with her belly.

The maiden squirmed and audibly struggled until Sir Vez’s hand covered her mouth. 

“Quiet!” whispered Sir Vez.

The three paused on the edge of the swampy waters motionless. After a moment, even the maiden could hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

Sir Vez signed, unsheathed his sword, and stood up. Three goblins emerged from the brush,  robed in alligator skin tunics wrapped with leather and brandishing machetes.

“You don’t want this, boys,” warned Sir Vez. “Walk away.”

The goblins chuckle as they fanned out to surround Sir Vez. One of them pointed at Sir Vez’s emblem. “Look, Sazzy, it’s not every day we see a goblin wearing a dragon’s rose.”

“Yeah? What does that mean?” asked one of the bandits.

“Well, Sazzy. That flower supposedly only grows in dragon’s blood. Legend says that a knight slew a dragon, plucked the flower, and gave it to a princess.”

“Oooh, heartwarming,” mocked one of the goblin bandits. “And what do you know, here we have a knight and a damsel in distress right here. How romantic.”

The maiden scoffs from underneath the pig.

“I am a knight of Vulgaria,” said Sir Vez. “I wield a magical sword. The three of you are no match for me.”

Then, from behind trees, three more goblins stepped out, this time pointing crude bows at Sir Vez.

“My tabard is spidersilk,” reported Sir Vez. “You had best aim for my head, otherwise your arrows are useless.”

Then, from behind Sir Vez, in the swampy water, four goblins riding alligators swam out from tall reeds.

“I slayed a dragon yesterday. Trained alligators are nothing to me.”

Then, a slow clap surprised Sir Vez. It seemed to come from nearby.

Sir Vez slowly lowered and sheathed his sword. “I see that I am in the presence of one of the infamous Wind Sisters.”

There was a soft laugh as Sir Vez’s belt began to unbuckle itself, and then float away from him. The goblins all moved toward him as he stood still. They wrapped his hands in rope and pushed him to the ground. They then pushed Soup off of the maiden and bound her as well.

“Some knight you are!” shouted the maiden. “I was better off with the dragon!”

Suddenly, the maiden’s head jerked to the side as the sound of a slap echoed off the trees.

“That’s no way to speak to such a famous knight,” said a voice inches from the maiden’s face.

The air near the maiden began to ripple like a wave. Two green hands appeared in the air, grasping at an invisible hood and pulling it back to reveal the face of a goblin woman. She smiled at the maiden and fiddled with something invisible around her neck until purple sparks flew off the goblin woman like loose fireflies as her entire body came into view. She wore a hooded, black cloak that sheened purple and blue like the feathers of a raven. The drawstring was clasped by a smooth stone that seemed to be able to control the cloak like a switch.

The goblin woman was clad in a revealing alligator skin outfit that exposed her muscular abdomen. Around her waist she wore an array of knives of varying shape and color. She lowered her hand and rested it on a curved blade made of a dark metal as she eyed the maiden on the ground.

“Which sister are you?” asked Sir Vez, calling her attention away from the maiden. “I’ve heard that Alsah is the leader. Are you Alsah?”

“We’re equal partners!” corrected the goblin woman as she turned to Sir Vez. “I’m not Alsah, I’m Hasal, the beautiful one!”

Sir Vez rolled to his side to look at her. “I see. It’s a pity you hide your face so often. You are quite fetching.”

“Ha. Flattery won’t save you,” Hasal said with a smile. “But… seeing as a knight of Vulgaria cannot lie, I will admit that I’m flattered.”

“What do we do with the pig, boss?” asked one of the goblins.

Hasal turned toward the group of goblins. “We’ve made quite the catch today. A knight of Vulgaria, a wealthy human woman, and a wagon full of dragon scales. Tonight we feast on the pig!”

The bandits tied Sir Vez and the maiden together, back-to-back. They cheered as they prepared a fire and went through Sir Vez’s loot. Soup was tackled and tied down. One of the goblins put on Sir Vez’s helmet and comically sword-fights an imaginary dragon. 

Hasal leaned in to inspect the maiden. “So, you’re the princess of Brantwil? I thought you were a child.”

“I’m not the princess of Brantwil!” replied the maiden.

“A duchess, then?” inquired Hasal as she tried to read the maiden’s face. “The daughter of a baron, at least?”

The maiden looked at Hasal definitely. “I am Rebexa Montblanc, daughter of Renni Montblanc, the king’s royal painter!”

Hasal blinked for a moment. She then walked around Rebexa to face Sir Vez. “You rescued the daughter of some starving artist!?”

“Her father is the royal painter. Paintings aren’t cheap.”

“She… she isn’t worth it!” Hasal shouted in frustration. “I would have to risk one of my bandits to contact the father or pay a courier a sizable amount so they don’t just rat me out. And, I need to split whatever he can pay among us. There’s no way this painter has the Kruts!”

The maiden’s face lowered. Sir Vez looked at Hasal and said, “Sometimes, doing the right thing is the greater reward.”

Hasal huffed and stormed away from Sir Vez toward the edge of the water. She tapped her foot aggressively, then turned back and aggressively got in Rebexa’s face.

“Why did the dragon capture you!?” asked Hasal. “We heard you complaining for miles. It sounds like the dragon gave you all manner of nice things. Why were you so valuable to the dragon?”

The maiden tightened her lips, staring back at Hasal.

“Boss?” asked one of the goblins meekly. “Can we still cook the pig?”

Without looking away from Rebexa, Hasal shouted, “Yes you can still cook the pig! Idiot!”

Sir Vez elbowed Rebexa. The goblin produced a large knife and approached Soup, who was bound and looked terrified. Vez jabbed Rebexa again, twice. “Tell her,” he said.

Rebexa unclenched her jaw. “I can sing.”

Hasal rocked back a little. “So, a blue dragon risked flying the skies of Brantwil, stole you, and kept you pampered in its lair to hear you sing?”

Rebexa nodded.

The goblin with the knife placed a hand on Soup, and raised the knife over its head.

Sir Vez elbows Rebexa again. “Sing!” he said with urgency.

Rebecca sang.

Between the mountains and the clouds, the birds dance.

Under the waves, lie riches beyond measure.

The moon of the harvest calls out the fruits.

But alone, my heart holds no treasure.

Gold is nothing but yellow stones.

Silver reminds me of old bones.

There are no trinkets that can bring me pleasure.

Because, alone, my heart holds no treasure.”

No food can fill me, no drink will quench.

The scent of a rose is now merely a stench.

Tales of romance are no longer a leisure.

Without you, my heart holds no treasure.

Rebexa’s voice carried through the air like the scent of fresh baked bread. It wrapped around the goblins, holding them as if bound by a soprano rope. The goblin holding the knife over Soup’s head trembled, tears running down his face. Hasal had stepped back and sat on a log. Her jaw had dropped open. There was a moment of silence after the song, broken by Hasal’s slow clap. As she clapped, the other goblins dropped what they were doing and began to clap as well.

The bandits gathered closer, and shouted, “Encore! Another!”

Sir Vez looked at his sword, still sheathed and leaning against the log that Hasal sat on.

Rebexa looked around at the goblins, accepting her role. “What do you want to hear?” she asked them.

Sir Vez spoke up. “How about my favorite song: ‘For Vulgaria’!”

Suddenly, Sir Vez’s sheath stood upright from the log and leaned toward Sir Vez. With a metallic shink, his sword shot out of his sheath, arced through the air, and landed blade-down between Vez’s legs. Vez thrust his bound wrists into the blade, tearing the rope to ribbons. He then grasped the hilt, and raised the sword into the air. The blade began to glow orange as if it had been plucked fresh from a forge.

Sir Vez was so fast that the first goblin he slew barely realized what had happened. Hasal reached for the stone clasped on her cloak. As her purple sparks began to materialize around her, Sir Vez’s blade disappeared into her now-invisible body. Only her hands and face showed how deep the blade had reached. Her hands and head collapsed as drops of blood appeared from unseen parts of her.

With a glowing orange arc of light, the magical blade then sliced clean through the goblin near Soup. The bandits scrambled in panic. The ones who reached for weapons were cut down quickly. The others darted in different directions, diving into tall weeds while a few scrambled up trees. Sir Vez grasped his sword with both hands, then pressed the flat side down onto the ground. Smoke appeared, and then the grass began to flicker. He dragged his blade around the area, creating a semicircle between the water and the fleeing goblins.

As the burning grass began to spread, he turned to soup and freed her. He then freed Rebexa as well. “Quickly! Hold onto Soup and swim to the other bank!”

Without hesitation, the maiden dashed toward the water. Soup came up next to her and the two frantically splashed to the other side of the swamp. Rebexa crawled up onto dry land and saw a large fire licking at the branches of trees, but she couldn’t see Sir Vez. Soup bit on the back of Rebexa’s dress and pulled her further away from the water.

✿

The sun was setting, which made the flames seem brighter. Then, she saw the wagon floating across the water toward them. Sir Vez swam behind it, pushing it across the swamp. There was a strange shape in the water behind him, but she couldn’t make out what it was.

Soup grabbed a rope attached to the wagon and helped Sir Vez pull it out of the water. Sir Vez then reached behind him and scooped his hands into the water, lifting an invisible object onto dry ground. He dropped it, and the maiden heard a thud as a single green, lifeless hand became visible.

“You brought the bandit lady!?” Rebexa exclaimed in disbelief.

“The Wind Sisters have a pretty high bounty on their heads in Brantwil,” said Sir Vez. “With the dragon parts, a wanted criminal, her magical cloak, and you, this will be a prosperous rescue mission. Sadly, some of the bandits made off with my dragon fangs.”

Rebexa looked at him in disbelief.

Sir Vez fastened Soup’s harness to the wagon. “If we walk quickly, we can make it to your father’s house before midnight. It will be dark, so stay close to the wagon.”

The maiden nodded her head. She began to walk alongside the wagon and didn’t complain like before. After a time, she began to ask questions.

“So, is it true that as a knight you cannot lie?”

“We knights of Vulgaria take a vow of honesty,” replied Sir Vez. “Besides, we goblins are terrible liars. Have you ever noticed that our ears twitch when we lie?”

Rebexa had heard the old wives’ tale, but if Sir Vez did take a vow of honesty, it might be true.

“I’ve never heard of Vulgaria,” Rebexa began. “Where is it?”

“It’s west of the Goblin Capital. There is a pristine lake called Lake Tu’Gud that has the cleanest waters in the whole goblin nation,” Sir Vez explained. He seemed eager to talk about his home. “The name Vulgaria came from an old goblin tradition of naming beautiful places so that humans and elves would think they were disgusting or dangerous.”

Rebexa smiles a little. “You don’t seem ‘Vulgar.’”

Sir Vez chuckled a little.

In the distance, swaths of farmland glowed in rich yellows and oranges as the setting sun cast long shadows from behind them. The maiden’s heart lifted at the sight of her home kingdom.

The dirt roads made for a much easier trek to the central city of Brantwil. Renni Montblanc lived on the outskirt of the city. In the middle of the night, the old artist rushed to answer the knocking on his door and was surprised when his lost daughter leapt into his arms.

Sir Vez waited patiently for their reunion to ebb. The old painter then turned toward the goblin and shook his hand wildly. Renni clamored for his coin purse and emptied it into Sir Vez’s hands. Ten gold Kruts.

Rebexa’s eyes widened. “That’s all? Ten Kruts is the same cost as an old cow!”

Sir Vez interjected. “Sometimes, doing the right thing is the greater reward.”

The maiden huffed, then grabbed the edge of the door. “Thank you for rescuing me, Sir Vez. Now if you don’t mind, I need a bath and some real food.”

“Good b–—” Sir Vez’s farewell was interrupted as Rebexa abruptly closed the door. He then looked to Soup, who looked back at him. “Yeah, you did good, you old sow.”

The two started walking toward the closest tavern. Sir Vez complimented Soup for her bravery. “Yes, you earned some carrot soup. And no, I was never going to let that goblin cook you.”