Azduk had been fighting for his whole life. A dwarf there, an elf there, maybe a goblin here. It was pointless to him, and most of all extremely dull. Most goblins spoke of the art of war, but for him there was none. He yearned for a way to express himself, to show the world what the depths of his soul truly held. Alas, the khagan had decided to make him his war chieftain, and here he was, yet again, stalking yet another caravan with his men. Pointless, pointless, pointless.
The chieftain approached his makeshift camp on the edge of the forest. About a dozen goblins were idling around, eating, gambling and boasting with each other. The group's beak dogs were resting and playfully nibbling at each other. Azduk kicked one of the men sitting on the ground. "Alright you elves, listen up! There's a human caravan approaching that needs a quick butcherswork, so get your weapons and mount up. Now." The goblins lazily stood up and armed themselves, eagerly awaiting for the coming bloodshed.
The caravan wasn't as big as Azduk had thought. Only two wagons, one filled with pottery and other with plethora of animals, trundled steadily across the dirty road. There were measly four guards protecting the cargo blissfully ignorant of the squad lurking in the shadows of the nearby trees. The goblins patiently waited until the caravan was just before their position. Azduk looked at the others, raised his spear, and charged at the hapless men.
The battle was over in mere seconds. The spear-armed mounted warriors killed two of the guards before they even managed to raise their shields, and the two other alongside most of the merchants were cut down when they tried to turn tail and flee. The men were cheerisly mutilating the corpses of the fallen and breaking the pottery in many imaginative ways, while Azduk approached the animal wagon. There were three creatures in one of the cages of the kind he had never seen before. They were quite typical quadrupeds, but cowered in white fluffy fur. When Azduk approached the animals, he noticed one of the merchants hiding amidst the animals. The man was so white from fear that it would've been hard to see if he would be alive if he wouldn't be shaking in panic.
Azduk grabbed the man from his neck and asked: "What are these silly creatures? Some new vanity pet for one of your so-called kings?" The man hastily answered: "T-they're sheep, m-m'lord. W-we ma-make all manner of clothes and s-similar items f-from their wool." "And you can only get it from these... Sheep?" "N-no, you can t-technically harvest it from a-any animal with suitable fur." The man gulped loudly, tears in his eyes. Azduk chuckled and was about to snap the man's neck, but then an idea occurred to him:
Trolls have fur.
Could this be the brand new way of self-expression he had always been looking for? Would his life finally have purpose? Clothing, made from real trolls? Azduk looked at the man. "You are going tell me everything about this wool. That's why you are going to live."
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Thus begins the story of Azduk, the goblin and his dream of becoming the greatest troll wool artist ever. But he can't build a fortress alone, so were going to need people dorfed. (Gobbed? I don't know.) So, please state a goblin of your liking (Name, preferred skills, personality) so we can get this story going.
I am using a self-modded goblin civilization for this community fort. (It really just adds playability and few nobility ranks.) I'll get the map of the place up when I have seven goblins.
Goblins so far:
1.Azduk, a troll wool mogul
2.Derm, a bloody merry axegoblin
3.Mo'dakka, a goblin who thinks sharpshooting means shooting people with sharp stuff.
4.Cringy, goblin who finds inner peace in colouring stuff.
5.Riza, friendly neighbourhood bloodletter.
6.Keltiknight, master of elf annoyance.
7.Korp, he who knows the ancient art of adding as much spikes as possible to every single item.
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Topic: Graspedhate - Tale of a troll wool industry (Community goblin fortress) (Read 1465 times)