Fantastic Metropolis

“Monsters? Tsk,” the Goblin King said, clucking his tongue. “Such bigotry. I really expected better of you. But no matter. Yes, your lightshow and chants have effectively neutered my marching hordes, but I remind you that my blood covenant with the Dark Overlords has likewise prevented you from removing me from the field of play. We are, then, at a stalemate.”

“Not really,” Lord Peter Midnight countered. “It’s true that neither you nor I can really best the other, or not for long at any rate. But as your goal is the usurpation of the status quo I have, in effect, accomplished my ends simply by blocking you from succeeding. The status quo stands, the mass of humanity remains ignorant of the world of the supernatural, and subsequently they are able to live out their lives with at least the semblance of free will.”

The Goblin King scowled for a long moment. At last his expression softened, and he applauded with light claps which rode the ragged line between quietly sincere and outright patronizing.

“Bravo,” the Goblin King said. “Bravo. I was wondering when you were going to come to that conclusion. Yes, you’re right. All you have to do in order to win our repeated engagements is to ensure that I always lose, and we are too evenly matched for me ever truly to win.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “Of course, having now said that, it seems that most of the fun will be drawn from our little encounters.”

“Accepting that as a given, then,” Lord Peter Midnight asked, his expression quizzical, “why pursue these antics at all? If world domination is not to be in the cards, why pursue it at all?”

“I’ll answer that question,” said the Goblin King, “if you can answer me one in turn.”

Lord Peter Midnight nodded.

“You shall go first,” the Goblin King announced. “Question: why does it matter so very much to you that I do not rule the world, or the country, or what have you?”

“To say nothing of the northwest corner of Utah?” Lord Peter Midnight added.

“No need to be catty,” the Goblin King said.

“You’re right,” Lord Peter Midnight said, “I apologize. Why not have you as ruler, then? It’s very simple, really. We are creatures of the dark and hidden ways, you and I, and it wouldn’t do for us to come too far out into the open. Once upon a time, perhaps, but our time has waned. It may some day wax again, but until it does, can you really imagine that the people of the world would suffer one of us to be their ruler? No. They would find some weakness, some minor Achilles heel, and use it to destroy us.”

“Well said,” the Goblin King replied. “I particularly liked the part about the ‘dark and hidden ways.’ You always were quite the orator. I don’t agree, of course, but I can appreciate the sentiment.” He paused, and smiled.

“And now?” Lord Peter Midnight said. “I believe you owe me an answer in return?”

“Ah yes,” the Goblin King said, “so I do. Why, you ask, do I pursue conquest, when in actual fact I accomplish little more than an endless repetition of our little tête-à-tête’s?”

“Precisely,” Lord Peter Midnight said.

“Because, my dear fellow,” the Goblin King said, “it has become the tête-à-tête which is the end in itself. Put simply, I find I enjoy being with you, and this is the best way I’ve found to do so.”