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Today's story is a throwback episode.
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This is an ad for Nanimals.
Hi, Stories fans.
Pets are great, but have you ever tried putting a parakeet in your pocket or a cat in your backpack?
Spoiler alert, it won't go well.
But Nanimals are the perfect pals to play with on the go.
Nanimals are mini animal figures with heart meters that fill up the more you pet feed and move them.
They interact with you by making over 70 sounds and silly reactions.
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Nanimals are tactile and tiny, making them a great toy to fidget with on the go.
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Enjoy the episode!
The Goblin Picnic Once upon a time, in a dark and distant woods, there was a castle.
The castle was called Homestone, the woods were called the Rootwilds, and even though one was in the other, they tried their best not to mix.
Homestone was modest as far as castles go.
It wasn't built with the great soaring spires favored by royalty, nor was it thick and mean like the keep's beloved of the armies.
No, it was a more homey sort of castle.
The kind of castle you could come back to after a long day of working in the woods and just relax, safe behind its walls.
In fact, it was built by villagers for just that reason.
Tired of being bothered by the twisted creatures of the root wilds, the people had come together and assembled it stone by stone over generations.
At least, that was the story they told when a story needed telling.
The castle stones were covered with drifts of cloudy moss.
The wood of the drawbridge was a spongy fungus gray, but they were still strong, strong enough to keep out the wolves and shamblemen and, most of all, the goblins.
Short and knobbly, with long limbs and ghoulish faces, the goblins made their homes in the darkest places of the root-wilds.
The places that never felt the warm kiss of the sun or soft breath of the wind.
The places where all that grew were bone-white mushrooms and oily black creepers.
In those places, in holes and foul-smelling burrows, the goblins dwelled.
When the people of Homestone ventured into the forest to hunt or gather food, the goblins would soon come.
They would dress in ratty cloaks stolen from forgotten graves and they would try and trick the humans into eating their magical food.
Every bite of it was enchanted, so that, once tasted, a human could eat nothing else.
And they'd slowly grow thinner and thinner until they were forced to go find the goblins once again to feast at their tables and, in the fullness of time, turn into a goblin themselves.
Unfortunately for him, a young boy named Hawk doubted that these stories were real.
He doubted it, with the bluff certainty that only young boys seemed to possess, sure that he was invincible, the hero of his own story and unable to be tricked or harmed.
He was so sure that one day, after his parents had left for work, he decided to explore the root wilds for himself.
He even tried to get his younger sister to tag along.
Come on, Rose, he said.
Let's just go for a little.
I want to explore.
Rose looked up from her schoolwork with a frightened expression.
We can explore, just not the rootwilds.
You know they're forbidden to everyone but the work crews.
It's too dangerous to go except in a group.
A group with axes.
Well, I'm not afraid.
Maybe you should be.
What about the goblins?
What about them?
It's just food.
I'm not afraid of food.
Remember what Mother said?
Rose cleared her throat.
We must not look at goblin men.
We must not try their fruits.
Who knows upon what soil they fed their hungry, thirsty roots.
That's just a dumb poem.
I'm going, Hawk said.
And before Rose could argue, he banged out the door.
Outside the sky was bright and sunny, pleasant smells emanating from the wooden homes that clustered together inside the broad walls of Homestone Castle.
It was a beautiful day, a sweet day, the kind of day that makes fear seem small and silly.
His spirits lifted once more, Hawk headed towards a set of steps that climbed to the castle wall.
Once at the top, he tied a rope to one of the square merlons that topped the castle wall and then threw the other end over the side.
It wasn't all that high as far as walls go, and a breathtaking 20-foot climb.
Later, Hawk found himself outside the castle walls.
He swam the moat, which was as much mud as water, and then darted into the root-wilds beyond before he could be seen.
The forest seemed bright and full of life.
Birds chirped, water gurgled happily over rocks and streams, and the tangy smell of the fall trees and evergreens filled the air.
Nothing to be afraid of, right?
Hawk said to a passing squirrel, a wide smile on his face.
I knew all that scary stuff was just a story.
He walked deeper into the woods, inch by inch, so slowly that Hawk didn't even notice.
The woods grew darker, quieter, blacker.
The bright blazing colors of fall turned to bare branches and inky black vines.
Humongous mushrooms and ridges of bone-white fungus clung to every tree and stone like shingles on a roof.
Hawk began to feel uneasy and considered turning around, but then he heard people talking up ahead.
He ran towards the sound, suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to not be alone in the darkness of the root wilds.
As he grew closer, he could make out the voices.
There were three, each one stranger and croakier than the last.
He stumbled into a clearing and found himself facing down three goblins.
One was nearly his height, with pebbly green skin that hung in wrinkled folds.
Another was mottled brown and gray, with a long pointed nose and feverish yellow eyes.
The third was the biggest, nearly as strong as Hawk himself, and his long, slender fingers ended with crusty red claws.
A boy, a boy, a human boy, one screeched.
Is he hungry?
Is his tumbly rumbly? said another.
The one with the red claws smiled his grin, stretching his swamp-colored face like putty, and he held up the tomato he had been eating, the juice, staining his nails and rolling pulpy down his hands.
How about it, boy?
Would you like to join in our picnic?
Hawk looked around the clearing.
He saw the goblins had cleared a patch of earth and laid a blanket of old burlap onto the ground.
Stacked high were strange foods.
There were rust-red tomatoes, queerly curled peppers, lumpy white roots and berries.
So black and dark, they seemed to drink in the meager light that filtered through the branches overhead.
Hawk, of course, remembered his sister's warning, but his stomach rumbled aloud.
Ah, he is hungry.
Of course, of course, a picnic guest.
Sit, sit, just have a bite to eat with us.
I don't even know who you are.
I'm Spag.
I'm Spag.
And I'm Spug, said the largest, clearly the leader.
Now sit.
Sit and join our picnic.
The food called to him, and the goblin's words seemed to lull the fear from his mind.
What had he been so worried about?
Food was food, and the goblins were smaller than he was anyway.
What could happen?
He sat himself on the burlap blanket and the goblins cheered and began to sing as they brought out more and more food, stacking it high on a plate of cracked porcelain.
It's just a...
At the Goblin Picnic.
Join our Goblin Picnic.
Mushrooms, blue and green and strange Puffs of fur from a dog with mange Pickled pigs' feet, sour to lick.
At the Goblin Picnic.
Join our Goblin Picnic.
Blood from old mosquito bites.
Toads that fly on a moonless night.
Toads warty and slimy slick.
At the goblin picnic.
Join our goblin picnic.
Owl palates, creepy crawls, The baby blues of old eyeballs.
Peppers that burn you like a wick.
At the Goblin Picnic.
Join our Goblin Picnic!
Hawk laughed and clapped as they finished and then began to eat.
Though the food looked strange, it was better than anything he had ever tasted.
Tomato juice ran red down his chin and his eyes watered with laughter as the goblins sang and danced and offered him more and more food.
Before he knew it, the sun was going down, and the meal was over.
Thanks again for the food.
You goblins aren't so bad as everyone says.
The goblins laughed merrily and slipped away into the trees.
Hawk ran home through the woods, swam the moat, and was relieved to find the rope still in place.
He climbed up and over the wall and got home just minutes before his parents.
Where were you all day?
Rose hissed when they sat down for dinner.
I'll tell you later, Hawk whispered back as his mother sat a plate of meat pie in front of him.
He was still very full from the goblin picnic, but meat pie was his favorite, so he picked up his fork and took a big bite.
Ugh, he said, spitting it out.
It tasted like burnt toast and spoiled milk, like rotten eggs and skunky shoes.
What is wrong with you, young man? his mother demanded.
I... it...
Answer your mother.
Don't be rude, said father.
I'm not feeling well, he stammered out.
I thought I could eat, but I need to lay down.
Mother rested a hand on his forehead.
You do feel a little hot.
You go on to bed and we'll see how you feel in the morning.
After everyone ate and went to bed, Rose slipped into Hawk's room.
She was younger by a year, tall and willowy, where Hawk was short and stocky, and she moved very quietly when she cared to.
What happened? she asked when Hawk lifted his head from the pillow.
I know you aren't sick.
I met some goblins in the woods, he said, unable to lie.
I... we... we had a picnic.
Hawk, you know the stories.
No wonder you can't eat.
It's nothing like that, Hawk said, reassuring himself as much as Rose.
I just ate too much.
They were nice.
They sang and danced and joked and the food was so good.
I'm telling Mom and Dad.
No, please, please don't, Rose.
Don't, okay?
Rose chewed her hair the way she always did when she was thinking hard.
Fine, but you have to eat tomorrow, okay?
Real food.
Deal, Hawk said.
But the next morning, his oatmeal tasted like ashes in his mouth, and he spit it back into the bowl.
Feeling sick, he spooned his breakfast into the trash when Rose wasn't looking and then pretended to have eaten it all.
See, nothing to worry about, he said.
Rose nodded and went back to her schoolwork, but didn't look entirely convinced.
Later that day, stomach rumbling, Hawk went back into the woods.
He climbed the stairs and slid down the rope, swum the moat and pushed into the dark of the root wilds calling out as the colors all faded to sticky blacks and whites.
Goblins!
Spug!
Spag!
Spag!
Hello?
He looked all day but could find no trace, and that night he went home hungry and once more he couldn't eat his dinner.
He looked again the next day and the next, and day after day, until one morning he was so weak from hunger that he couldn't get out of bed.
Now for a quick ad break.
We'll be back with the rest of the story after this.
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Hi, Stories fans.
Pets are great, but have you ever tried putting a parakeet in your pocket or a cat in your backpack?
Spoiler alert, it won't go well.
But Nanimals are the perfect pals to play with on the go.
Nanimals are mini animal figures with heart meters that fill up the more you pet feed and move them.
They interact with you by making over 70 sounds and silly reactions.
And if you have more than one, nanomoles will interact with each other too.
You can connect them and swap their textured outfits to create different styles.
Nanimals are tactile and tiny, making them a great toy to fidget with on the go.
And since they come with a handy backpack clip, it's easy to take them anywhere.
Nanimals, collect and connect.
His parents called a doctor who declared that Hawk had a stomach flu and would be eating again as soon as it passed.
This seemed to be enough for his parents, but Rose knew the truth.
After the doctor left, she stormed into his room and threw back his blankets and saw how skinny he was, the shape of his bones through his skin, and she knew she couldn't keep his secret any longer, not even if he hated her for telling the truth.
Some things were just too important.
Mom, Dad, Hawk isn't sick.
He has the goblin curse.
What's this? said Father, looking up from his book.
He went to a goblin picnic, and now he can't eat.
It's a magic spell.
Honey said Mother, I know you're worried about your brother, we all are, but the doctor said it's a flu.
No one's seen a goblin in years and years, not around here.
Rose kept trying, but it was no use.
Her parents didn't believe that Hawk would be silly enough to get involved with goblins.
They wanted to wait for him to get better, but he wouldn't.
You didn't get better from a goblin curse.
You just kept getting thinner and thinner and more gnarled, until you turned into a goblin yourself, doomed to spend the rest of your days wandering the darkness of the root wilds.
Rose couldn't let that happen.
Not to her brother.
The next day, after her parents went to work, Rose took down her father's bow and arrow and went into Hawk's room.
"'Rose!' he croaked.
"'What are you doing?'
"'I'm going to find those goblins who poisoned you, and I'm going to make them give me the cure!'
"'Rose, do you even know how to shoot that thing?'
Rose blushed and shook her head no.
"'I didn't think so.
Put it down before you hurt yourself.'
Rose laid down the bow and arrow on the table next to his bed.
Hawk had propped himself up to look out the window and his bare chest was starting to turn a sickly brownish-green.
Don't go, Rose.
It's too dangerous.
You were right.
Just stay safe, okay? he said.
And then, as though simply speaking had exhausted him, his eyelids sank down and he fell asleep.
Stay safe.
It was appealing, but Rose couldn't do it, not if it meant letting her brother turn into a goblin and spend his days wailing in the root wilds.
Before she could lose her courage, she left the house, climbed the stairs to the castle wall, slid down the rope to the ground below and swam the moat.
Wet and muddy, she pushed into the forest.
It was beautiful at first, but she didn't let that lower her guard.
Every time she felt herself starting to relax, she remembered Hawk's scaly chest and paid more attention to her surroundings.
It wasn't long until she heard a croaking singing coming from ahead.
The trees were black and oily, the fungus large and white as bone.
She was close to the goblin picnic.
She knew it.
She slipped into the clearing on silent feet.
Three goblins were sitting together on a dirty burlap blanket, eating great handfuls of crooked berries and talking with one another.
It's been two weeks, said one.
Surely the boy will become one of us soon.
I think you are quite right.
He stuffed himself quite full and will return to us a goblin any day now.
He should be here already.
He must have been strong.
Maybe he drank from the moonlight stream and won't be coming the shortest one said, nodding towards a nearby crook in the river that seemed to sparkle even in the dark.
Never, never.
Humans don't know of such magics.
They are all axe and sword and herbs and honey.
The old arts are lost to them.
True, true.
We will have our new brother soon.
One stopped and sniffed the air.
There's a girl!
A human girl!
The others sniffed as well.
Another human come to eat!
Another goblin in the making!
Hush now!
Where are you, child?
Come where we can see you now, said the largest, the one with the rust-red nails.
Shaking with fear, Rose stepped into the clearing.
Hello.
I'm lost and hungry, and I smelled your food, she said.
Of course, of course.
Come join our picnic.
Rose sat down as the goblin smiled and sang and made her a meal.
Finally, they handed her an old porcelain plate heavy with food and a hollowed-out pumpkin full of a bubbling stew.
With a trembling hand, Rose picked up the pumpkin and grabbed the chunky wooden spoon resting inside.
Take a bite.
You'll love it, you will.
Delicious and muticious.
Rose raised the spoon to her mouth.
The goblins leaned in closer, eyes wide and eager.
She touched the spoon to her lips and the goblins leaned in closer still and closer and closer and, with a yell, Rose took the pumpkin and splashed the bubbling stew into their faces.
They howled and shrieked and rolled in the dirt, and Rose leapt past them.
"'That's for my brother!' she said, and then she dipped the hollowed pumpkin into a glowing crook in the river, filling it with the water of the moonlight stream.
She turned and found the largest of the goblins on his feet, already wiping the hot chunky soup from his eyes.
Oh, it's the sister, is it?
It's too late to save your brother.
And now you'll join our picnic as well.
It snarled, picking up a handful of inky blackberries in its long, slender hands.
"'Never!'
Rose cried, turning and running through the forest.
She was fast, but the pumpkin full of glowing water was heavy and it splashed about whenever she leapt or ducked under a limb.
Behind her she could hear the cackling of the big goblin chasing.
After her heard it crashing through the brushing and calling out to her.
Sister, come join our picnic.
Finally, Rose burst from the woods and saw the castle wall ahead.
Knowing she couldn't swim the moat or climb the wall carrying the pumpkin full of water, she veered left and headed for the drawbridge instead.
Behind her, she could hear the goblin's steps.
She glanced and saw it was gaining on her, running on all fours like a dog.
"'Who goes there?' cried a guard as she flew over the bridge.
A second later, she heard the scuttle of goblin nails, and the same man cried out in alarm.
Goblin!
Goblin at the gates!
But Rose didn't stop.
She ran so fast the pumpkin spilled half its glowing water.
She ran until her breath was like fire in her chest, and then ran more until finally her own little house was just ahead.
So close, she thought.
Ten more feet!
And then the goblin leapt and crashed into her.
She hit the dirt with a yelp and a thud.
The pumpkin burst underneath her, soaking her clothes and splashing the precious moonlight water over her face and hair.
She rolled and tried to scramble away, but the goblin was faster.
He stood over her, laughing, nails red as rust, a single berry dripping in his hand.
Time to join your brother, he said, leaning down to put the berry in her mouth.
Rose pressed shut her eyes, felt the goblin leaning over her, and then heard a loud thrum snap.
Oh!
Oh, maggots! the goblin cried.
Rose looked up and saw an arrow was sprouted from the goblin's arm.
Swamp water dripped from the wound, and it stank so bad Rose started to gag.
Don't touch her!
She looked up and there was Hawk still leaning in his bedroom window, their father's bow in his hands, another arrow at the ready.
You dare shoot me, boy?
You'll be calling me master soon enough.
You'll be back in the woods, calling my name, looking for another picnic.
Never.
Look, a berry, the goblin said, holding up the inky black fruit in his uninjured arm.
You must be so hungry.
Let me go and you can have it.
It's all yours.
Rose watched as Hawk licked his lips, the arrow dipping slightly.
Hawk, no!
Just... just one more.
One more and you'll turn into one of them.
What do you say, boy?
One more bite?
Sweat shone on Hawk's body, his skin growing more green and scaly by the moment now.
He looked to the goblin, and a rose sprawled on the ground.
You never should have hurt my sister, he said, and let the arrow fly.
The goblin screeched and when the arrow struck it seemed to pop, bursting into a great splash of swampy water.
It washed the dark berry to Rose's side.
She reached out and crushed it into the dirt.
Hawk, you did it, she said, but when she looked, her brother was on the ground nearby.
Shooting the bow had used the last of his strength, and he had slumped out through the window.
She rushed to his side.
Hawk, Hawk, I know the cure now.
It's the water from the moonlight stream.
I'll be back in an hour with more.
Hawk shook his head, the green scales crawling up his cheeks now.
"'Not-not enough time.
It's enough that-you are safe.'
"'Hawk, no!'
Rose said and began to cry.
A crowd was gathering now, circling the pair but not coming too close-
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I didn't make it.
It's okay.
I should have listened.
Rose took his hand, and as she did, a drop of water fell from her hair to his cheek.
Where it splashed, the green smudged away like chalk, showing the smooth skin underneath.
Hawk's eyes fluttered open, and Rose felt hope blossom within her like the first flower of spring.
She reached up and her long hair was wet from when the pumpkin burst was wet with the moonlight water.
Your hair!
It's glowing.
And it was.
She took it in her hands and twisted it tight, wringing out the shimmering water into her brother's mouth.
For a long moment, nothing happened.
And then, like painting in reverse, the foul colors disappeared from her brother's body and he took a long, relaxed breath.
Hawk, are you... are you better?
He opened his eyes, blinking up at her with a small smile.
Better?
That depends.
Have you got anything to eat?
They both laughed and someone from the crowd passed a loaf of brown bread still warm from the ovens.
Hawk tried a careful bite and then smiled widely and ate the whole loaf.
It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.
Rosenhock never saw the goblins again, but some say they're still out there, somewhere.
So if you ever hear strange singing in the woods, if you see hunched and gnarled figures dancing and laughing in the night, no matter how hungry you are, no matter how good it smells, never- ever join in on a goblin picnic.
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