“The gruagach were once part of the Seelie Court,” Pocket offered.

“Yes!” Muckle snapped his fat fingers. “The gruagach were once par…wait, how did you know that?”

“I read it,” Pocket replied.

“Ah, books,” Muckle winked. “Good lad. Well anyway, they were a part of it. Long before us goblins existed in fact, the arrogant pricks. Now they did not guard an Element, but they were favored and powerful nonetheless, and the elves trusted their council…to a point. That point came when humans first came to Airlann from…,” Muckle waved his hand absently in a random direction, “…wherever. The gruagach warned against these mortals, but they were overruled, and humans were allowed to live on the isle. Well, great teachers that they were, after a time the elves decided to tutor mankind in the ways of Magic. The gruagach were not happy with this, and after much yelling and finger pointing, left the Seelie Court in protest.”

“And began attacking humans,” Pocket said.

“Well, not at first,” Muckle replied. “It took a certain group of grey-skinned roustabouts with a fascination with Fire to spark that. Get it? Spark that!”

Pocket just kept walking.

Muckle was undaunted. “So! The goblins returned from the fiery bowels, the warlocks made a deal and give a hop, skip and a jump and you have the reign of the Goblin Kings. We all know how that ended and when it did, suddenly humans started finding themselves giving birth to odd little blighters with horns and tails and what have you.”

Pocket knew all this. “Gurgs.”

“Righto! War was won, but the gruagach were not in a forgiving mood and they started punishing mankind for their role in ruining the isle.”

“But I thought there were gurgs born before the Rebellion,” Pocket put in.

“Well, there were,” Muckle agreed. “A gurg is just what happens when gruagach fu…I mean, couple with humans. Like the dusk elves, they are the result of Fae and mortal relations. Irial Ulvyeh’s own cupbearer was a gurg…still is, if they are both alive. Anyway, Fae and man were having litters long before the Usurpation, but it was rare. Not until after the war did the gruagach think to use you little bastards as weapons.”

“Weapons?” Pocket glanced dubiously down at his stunted body. “How?”

“To make mankind distrust,” Sir Corc answered. “Their own neighbors, husbands, wives…children.”

“It is working,” Pocket mumbled. “Humans hate gurgs. Maybe the gruagach would be kinder.”

Sir Corc stopped and turned, kneeling down to look him square in the face. “You must not think that. Ever.” The knight placed both of his gauntlet-clad hands on Pocket’s shoulders and clutched him tightly. “Pocket, the elves have known several kings and more than a few gnomes have ruled in Toad Holm, but the gruagach have only ever followed one lord. One, in tens of thousands of years.”

“Festus Lambkiller.” Pocket had read about him, too.