Transatlantic Treasure Hunt

The following takes place following: Los Spicos

Fueled by a hastily devoured curry back in Widdlington, the Master now rocketed through the skies over the Atlantic at F-22 speeds, leaving a trail of questionable digestion and scorched atmosphere in his wake. Hours into the crossing, the curry’s second wind began to kick in.

Master Devlin: Hold on. Initiating thrust.

The Master jets out a flaming fart and rockets ahead. Travers’ moustache flies off.

wF: Hi Masta! Where we going?

Master Devlin: Louisiana.

wF: Ah. Finally going to visit dear old mum, eh?

Master Devlin (scowling): What do you want, Widdle Frunkut?

wF: We want nothing, Stan. You summoned us!

Master Devlin: I found your silly knives in her grave at the Council grounds.

wF: Guess she must’ve risen from the dead and gone on holiday.

The Master rips out some armpit hair and slaps it on Waldo’s upper lip.

Travers (groggily): Huh? Wha...? Oh... Master Devlin, this flight smells utterly foul. What is that stench? I’m afraid I’ll have to leave a negative review for Dragon Airlines.

Master Devlin: Must be the sea air.

The Master pulls some arse-crack hairs and slaps them on Travers’ face.

Master Devlin: Better?

Travers: No. If anything, it's significantly worse. What horrid sea is this?

Master Devlin: Atlantic. Coming up on Florida now.

Without warning, Travers hops off and plummets. At below-radar level, he doesn’t have far to fall before splashing into the water. A shark fin quickly approaches.

The shark clamps onto Travers and thrashes. The Master dives in, wrestles it, pries open its jaws and yanks Travers free. The shark snaps back and bites the Master's wing.

The Master hurls Travers ashore—he slams into a palm tree. An alligator ambles up and starts gnawing on Travers, who squeaks like a chew toy. The gator seems delighted.

The Master punches the shark in the belly, sending it slinking away. He limps ashore and tries to free Travers from the gator’s jaws. Eventually, he gives up and tosses a stick. The gator immediately drops Travers and chases after it.

The Master picks up a mangled Travers.

Master Devlin: Good lord...

Travers (looking down): Oh dear...

A massive chunk is missing from his torso.

Master Devlin: Can’t you regenerate?

Travers: I don’t know... I’ve never been this badly wounded. Aren’t you the expert on goblins?

Master Devlin: I haven’t got time for this.

He rips off Travers’ arse-pube moustache.

Master Devlin: Widdle Frunkut, you appear to be seriously wounded.

Widde Frunkut vomits blood on the Master.

Master Devlin: Oh for fuck’s sake, Waldo.

wF: We don’t feel so good.

Master Devlin: Fix yourself.

Widdle Frunkut promptly heals himself.

Master Devlin: Very good.

wF: Hey... what’s the big idea!? What’s going on?

Master Devlin: Oh, nothing...

The Master rips out more arse pubes and slaps them on Waldo’s face.

Travers: 🤢

Ed appears, wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

Ed: Y’know, for someone who can’t stand Travers, the Master’s awfully quick to bring him back.

Master Devlin: What do you want, Ed?

Ed: Just letting you know—someone’s coming. Might want to hide Travers.

Ed disappears. The Master bundles a groggy Travers under his wing.

A man in strange armour appears. He looks like some kind of medieval knight. He examines the ground, tracking something. He approaches the Master.

Knight: Hey, you... have you seen any goblins?

Master Devlin: What’s it to you? Why are you looking for goblins?

Knight: I hunt goblins. What are you?

Master Devlin: I’m a dragon.

Goblin Slayer: A dragon, huh? I assumed you were some sort of lizard priest. They call me Goblin Slayer. I hunt and kill goblins for coin. There’s a large bounty posted on one goblin in particular. I'm looking for it.

Master Devlin: A goblin slayer, eh? There haven’t been goblins in this realm for over a millennia...

The Goblin Slayer points to the ground.

Goblin Slayer: See these? Goblin tracks. And that’s goblin blood. One was here recently.

Master Devlin: Are you sure it’s a goblin you’ve been tracking? Not a gremlin or sprite?

Goblin Slayer: I know goblin tracks when I see them.

Master Devlin: You’re not from around here.

Goblin Slayer: I’m not.

Master Devlin: Who are you hunting?

Goblin Slayer: A goblin.

Master Devlin: Of course...Can you be more specific? A name?

He hands the Master a bounty poster with a sketch of a familiar moustachioed goblin. The name reads Harris Travers. 700 coin, dead or alive.

Goblin Slayer: Normally I take jobs on nests, but this one’s different. Large bounty.

Master Devlin: Travers? The lawyer?

Goblin Slayer: A what?

Master Devlin: You’re in the wrong country, sir.

Goblin Slayer: I heard he was here. Florida.

Master Devlin: Doubt it. I’ve heard of him—didn’t know he was a goblin. His firm’s in England. Why would he be here?

Goblin Slayer: I don’t know what a “law firm” or an “England” is. Are you protecting him?

Master Devlin: A dragon protecting a goblin?? Don’t be absurd.

Goblin Slayer: Goblin tracks and blood are right here, yet you’re trying to send me elsewhere.

Master Devlin: Just trying to help. But suit yourself.

Goblin Slayer: Hrmph.

Master Devlin: How’d you get here?

Goblin Slayer: After I took the contract at my guild, a strange man appeared and offered to send me—for free. Next thing I knew, I was here.

Master Devlin: Ah, yes. I know the man of which you speak. The Editor. He's a trickster. Wouldn’t trust him if I were you. Likely sent you here for a laugh.

Goblin Slayer: Doesn’t matter. As long as I kill goblins.

Master Devlin: Goblin killing’s not exactly a bustling trade here. They’re practically extinct.

Goblin Slayer: That's fine. I’m here for one goblin. Then I’m gone. Supposedly he’s heading to a place called Louisiana...

Master Devlin: Best of luck. Enjoy the swamps.

Goblin Slayer stops, turns.

Goblin Slayer: One more thing... have you seen this girl?

He holds up a drawing—it resembles Waldo’s fiancée, Ermintrude.

Master Devlin: Hmm. Hard to say. These anime girls all look the same.

Goblin Slayer: Red hair. Large chest.

Master Devlin: Who is she?

Goblin Slayer: A friend. Worked on her uncle’s farm. We haven’t heard from her in ages. Her uncle’s worried. The Editor said she might be here.

Master Devlin: If it’s who I think it is—yes, she’s here in this realm.

Goblin Slayer: Where did you last see her?

Master Devlin: England. Widdlington, Waldoshire. She was living in a skip.

Goblin Slayer: What’s a skip?

Master Devlin: A waste receptacle.

Goblin Slayer: Hmm. Good for disposing of goblin parts?

Master Devlin: Possibly. Last I heard, she was engaged.

Goblin Slayer: ...

Master Devlin: Were you involved?

Goblin Slayer: No... I, uh... I have to go. The trail’s getting cold.

Master Devlin: You won’t find what you seek here.

Goblin Slayer: So you do know where the goblin is.

Master Devlin: Perhaps.

Goblin Slayer: Then you’re protecting it!

Master Devlin: Look—why don't you meet me in England in a few weeks’ time. Kaz’s Burger Place. Masters Council grounds. We’ll talk.

Goblin Slayer: No deal. I don’t even know where England is.

Master Devlin: We wiped out the other goblins long ago but the goblin you seek cannot be killed.

Goblin Slayer: Then I’ll bring him back to the guild in pieces.

Master Devlin: The bounty’s 700 coins. How about I give you 1,000 to wait in England instead?

Goblin Slayer: You want to pay me not to kill a goblin?

Master Devlin: It’s more complicated than that... It also concerns the girl.

Goblin Slayer: I’ll find her later. That's personal. This is professional.

Master Devlin: Very well.

Goblin Slayer departs into the swamp.

The Master turns and whispers—

Master Devlin: You’d better stay under my wing, Travers.

The Master heads off with Travers in the direction of Louisiana. Eventually, they arrive at a damp cemetery.

The Editor: Really? That was quick...

Co-Editor: I’m just speeding things along.

The Editor: Fine, fine. Go on.

Co-Editor: You’re introducing new stories before we’ve even dealt with Travers’ fine.

The Editor: Yeah, well, I got bored. Besides, you fugued for three days. I had ideas. But fine—carry on...

They reach a freshly dug grave. The Master unearths Waldo’s chest of gold. He scoops it up and they head home. The Master takes the gold to the courthouse and pays off Travers’ fine.

Season 3 continues in Motion to Dismember