By Maradas Graham

There are many tales told on Arinth Island of the mysterious Goblin King and his horrifying minions, but among the most terrible that this humble storyteller have heard are the stories of the Gurtie, a most foul and frightening creature. There are many loathsome and repulsive types of goblins, but the Gurtie may be the most disgusting in appearance and vicious in nature. Gurties, which are said to fly about on wings made of fish-wrapping paper, have terrible leathery faces that look as if they had been rubbing their face in old paste and sand until it has crusted and dried about their beak-like noses and misshapen cheeks. It is said they will steal any papers they can find to add to their wings, ripping apart all manner of books and letters to add to their already papery appendages. They walk hunched over with a look of bloodthirsty malice in their eyes. All in all, the Gurtie is one of the most awful goblins you could ever have the ill fortune to run into. Few can be found to actually tell the tale of the Gurties attack, and those who have met one seem to be so shaken they can scarcely utter a word about it, so this story has been most difficult to piece together. It is, however, as entirely true as a story with many sources can be, and that is the goblins honest truth.

There was once, on Arinth Island, a man by the name of Richard Fairchild. He was a loveable man with a pleasant nature and good table manners. All the citizens of his village loved to invite him over for tea and biscuits, or perhaps a light supper, just for the pleasantness of his company. He often brought along a delightful chocolate cake, the recipe of which was known only by his wife and was much sought after by the neighboring women. Little children adored him, and dogs never dared to bark while he slept, lest they wake him by accident. He was the most humble, friendly, and cheerful man on, perhaps, the entire island. Until, that is, the attack of the Gurtie, which was to be his undoing.

One evening, Richard Fairchild was returning from a light supper with the local cobbler, from whom he had just purchased a simple yet elegant pair of burgundy leather boots, when he suddenly heard an odd flapping noise from overhead. It sounded like a flock of four hundred geese reading newspapers, or a thousand scribes sitting up from their desks and throwing their letters into the air at once. Richard was terrified of the noise, as any sensible man would be, and, being such a sensible man, began a swift sprint to his cottage, which lay just fifty paces ahead of him. Unfortunately, it was too late. With a terrible swooshing of papery wings, and a cry like branches scraping on the side of a barn in a hard wind, a huge creature came swooping from the air and landed in front of Richard Fairchild. Richard let loose a cry like an injured duck, and stumbled backwards over a stone, which sent him sprawling onto the ground in front of the nightmarish goblin that stood before him. That was when the creature, which was a Gurtie from the realm of the Goblin King, began its terrible attack.

Now, it has never been decided just what happened to Richard Fairchild that night, for the fear of the creature, combined with the impact of his head hitting the ground like eight or so pounds of barley, has since robbed dear Richard of most of his senses, but when his wife finally emerged from the cottage to see if her husband was still alive, Richard was blubbering and speaking disjointedly about the attack. Much sense could not be made of what he said, but it was gathered that the creature forced Richard to consume a vile and poisonous liquid, the nature of which has never been determined, though the villagers have their speculations, the most common of which being a mix of babys blood, sheep wool, tar, offal, lavender, and just a dash of salt to annoy the Fair Folk. The humble storyteller cannot confirm nor deny the validity of this recipe.

Poor Richard Fairchild was never the same. After this run in with the Gurtie, he was not half so pleasant and lovable as he once was, and his table manners have suffered terribly. No one ever invited him over for tea or a light supper anymore, as he had a way of babbling incoherently about the incident and then drooling upon his host. Children had a tendency to point and stare, and just a few weeks after the attack he was bitten by a small dog, the bite of which festered and finally brought about the death of Richard Fairchild. His wife was forced to sell her cake recipe to keep from starving to death. This cake recipe has become known as a Gurties Fright chocolate cake, and is eaten at holidays, weddings, and birthday celebrations.

No one knows what became of the Gurtie that accosted poor Richard. It is suspected he returned to the goblin realms, and later returned to terrorize other innocent villagers with pleasant natures and polite table manners. Goblins have a way of knowing such things, and target them without exception. In the end, the only thing left to say about Gurties is that if you should ever hear the flapping of papery wings while on the way back from a light supper, be careful when you run to not trip over the stone. Most victims of a Gurtie attack are not as lucky as Richard Fairchild.