Goblins across Mudwick Isle are frantically hiding their fermented mushrooms: the Spanish Inquisition has arrived. The tribunal, known for its brutal methods and questionable sense of humor, has apparently decided to expand beyond the Iberian Peninsula and into goblin territory.
Eyewitnesses describe a fleet of black galleons under sails bearing the Inquisition's emblem, crewed by stern inquisitors in flowing robes and anchored just off the coast. The arrival produced shockwaves and a few panicked shrieks.
The Goblin Council of Elders, caught entirely off guard, has scrambled to respond. Its usual tactics of deflection, denial and blaming the pixies have had no effect on the inquisitors, who do not know what a pixie is and do not wish to.
"We have received reports of heretical practices and blasphemous rituals on this island," declared the Grand Inquisitor, a tall figure with a piercing gaze and a disturbingly cheerful manner. "We are here to investigate and, if necessary, purify this land of its sinful ways."
The Goblin Nation is facing a crisis of faith and a potential shortage of fermented mushrooms.
"This is not funny!" said one goblin, hastily hiding a bottle of mushroom ale under his cloak. "We were just exploring different spiritual paths. What's the harm in worshipping a giant spaghetti monster, or sacrificing a goat to the Oracle? It's all in good fun!"
The Inquisition is not amused. It has set up headquarters in the Parliament of Party, abandoned since the Council's ban, and renamed it "The Chamber of Reckoning." Interrogations have begun. The one true faith, it turns out, does not involve fermented mushrooms, which several goblins say they would have liked to know before they converted.
