A Tale of a Jale God Cultist
A hobgoblin, a bugbear, and a cultist of the Jale God are sitting in a tavern across from a brothel. They are sipping their mead when they see a bugbear across the street walk into the house of ill repute. “Fnarl!” the bugbear curses. “It’s terrible to see a bugbear give into human temptation!” he says, shaking his head.
“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you go over there and stop him?” asks the hobgoblin.
The bugbear shakes his head and says, “Well, that’s my cousin Merl; he’s the toughest of our warband. If I interfere, he’ll whip me good.”
The other two nod their heads in understanding, and drink more mead.
A short while later, they see a hobgoblin walk into the brothel. “Pfaughl!,” exclaims the hobgoblin. “It’s a smear on the name of hobgoblins everywhere to see one of us spend our ration on a used handmaiden!”
“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you go over there and say something?” asks the bugbear. “Certainly you need to stop him before he nearly kills some poor girl.”
The hobgoblin nods his head and starts to rise, but then thinks better of it and sits back down. “You know,” he says, “I think that was my unit leader, Firl. If he sees me, he’ll know I’ve been drinking and then I’ll have to pull discipline duty for the third time this week.”
The other two nod knowingly, and the cultist pats the hobgoblin on the back and orders another round.
A few drinks later, they see the high priest of the Jale God enter the brothel. The hobgoblin and the bugbear turn to the cultist, who sighs wistfully and says “It’s nice to see the doxies, who have been used and abused and discarded by the likes of you two, have time to seek absolution from the Jale God.”
The bugbear and the hobgoblin beat the cultist senseless and steal his sandals. The Jale God laughs.