The most famous historic monument of Gobopolis
Deep within sprawling Gobopolis is a cavern known as “Krob’s Freedom”. Considered a must-see for visiting tourists, the cave is quite large (it has to be, to hold the monument) and tickets are available from a variety of rabid scalpers for those who want to avoid dreary queues.
Your guide will, upon receiving the proper stamped forms and bribes, explain to you the history of this unique memorial to an otherwise forgettable goblin mayor. Mayor Krob was gluttonous and lazy even by goblin standards, and spent almost all of his short reign inside his banquet room, treating himself and whoever else showed up to an eternal feast.
Predictably, the goblin kitchens had trouble keeping up with the housekeeping involved, and when the problem (and mayor) had grown so large that they could no longer be ignored, complaints were voiced. There simply were not enough dishwashers to keep up with the demand of the never-ending banquet, and could the mayor maybe take a break for a few weeks while they caught up?
The mayor refused their request without hesitation, but – after seeing a tear form in a lowly kitchen gob’s eye – declared a new law: dishes in Gobopolis no longer needed to be washed, ever! Instead, they would be thrown away when they were too filthy to use, and new dishes would replace them. The kitchen staff rejoiced heartily, and the king’s new law was an instant hit with the populace; from that day forward, no dish was washed in Gobopolis again, and they were instead tossed in great piles into the cave which bears Krob’s name today. He was known as the “liberator” of Gobopolis, for freeing the people from the heinous duty of dishwashing, and many parades and mimic banquets were held in his honor.
Though the dishes were only piled randomly at first, in time it became a tradition to stack them higher and higher in precarious, greasy piles, and a new goblin art form was born – the art of dish stacking. Today upon visiting the great cavern you can see the artists at work balancing plates, cups, bowls, and stale bread in amazing configurations, high above the ground. The ever-shifting panorama of cockroaches and fungi only add to the vista; a true piece of living art.
Upon viewing this masterpiece of goblin culture for himself, visiting human ambassador Lord Glenstone remarked that he “had never seen abstract art of quite this caliber before”, and was apparently so overcome by its beauty that he asked to retire to his rooms immediately for contemplation.
Sadly, Mayor Krob was assassinated only a few months after his decree by the overworked members of the Dishmaker’s Union, so historians can only ponder what other great laws he might have passed, given the opportunity.