Mothnuts, 5th Felsite, 367
Rakust and Daywalker approached the lintgrass-hooded elf meditating by the still waters of the grove's pool. They waited ten minutes for the elf to notice them, at which point Rakust was about ready to leave. Just before his patience wore out, the elf stood and turned to greet them.
"Greetings, travellers," said the elf. "My name is Imimi Mithfulpass, and I am druid of these groves. What brings you to my pool?"
"Land," said Rakust. "We're here about a grant of land."
"All land belongs to the Force," said Imimi, "and the Force belongs to all Lands."
"Uh, right. Well, this particular land relates to the plot around Strapnights, where Ertal Heatedgem was slain. We were granted it by the dwarves of Prairiemerchant."
"That glade is under our protection," said Imimi. "The dwarves have no claim over it. If I may ask though, what did you do that merited such a 'grant'?"
"Slew Ertal Heatedgem." Rakust grinned at the expression of surprise dawning on Imimi's face.
"By the Force!" he exclaimed. "It's you! It's really you. My friend, let me shake your hand for ridding the forest of that menace." Imimi stepped forward.
"By all means," said Rakust, offering his hand. Imimi stepped straight past him and started shaking Daywalker's hand vigorously.
"Savir Soundposts," said Imimi in awe, "it is an absolute pleasure to meet you. I've heard all about your exploits."
"Um," said Daywalker, "I'm not-"
"-one to boast," cut in Rakust. "That's why master Soundpost has me to do the talking for him."
"Ah, very well," said Imimi, relinquishing Savir's hand and stepping back. "Still, you are very welcome in our grove, master Soundpost. Oh, and your sl- ah, manservant as well."
"Ye-es," said Rakust carefully. "Anyhow, we suspected we might have this sort of trouble, but it is rather important to master Soundpost that he be allowed to settle on this land. Given his expertise, is there anything you might be willing to do to permit this?"
"Well, I suppose you have a point there. There is a vine, choking at the life of our people. We could use master Soundpost's aid in pruning it."
"We're not really gardeners-" Daywalker began.
"But we're still the men for your job," finished Rakust. "Men, dwarf, goblin. Who cares, we'll still take care of it."
"Excellent," said Imimi, clapping his hands. As you may know, we are at war with the fortress of Hushedpoison. Your job is simple; slay the Dark Lady of the Strifeful Ghoul, Nguslu Hellgully."
"The Dark Lady?" squeaked Daywalker. "She'll be surrounded by dozens of guards! That's insane!"
"That'll do just fine," said Rakust, firmly. "After all, Savir Soundpost loves danger, doesn't he? Rest assured, Imimi, when you see us next, we'll be sure to have earned the land we need. Come along, 'Savir'. It's time to earn our pay."
Hushedpoison, 8th Felsite
"I don't feel good about this," said Daywalker, looking up at the towering obsidian fortress.
"What's not to like?" laughed Rakust as he hobbled along. "It's an impenetrable fortress of black glass, defended by some of the most feared denizens of the known world. Truly, you have nothing to fear except a thousand horrible means of death."
"So how do you plan on getting into it?" asked Daywalker. "Scale the walls? Bribe some slaves into carrying you in in a barrel? I sincerely hope you're not planning on fighting your way in."
"Oh goodness, no! I'm just going to walk in and be asked to be taken to the Dark Lady." Rakust chuckled, navigating a difficult bit of the mountainside with care.
"What?" exclaimed Daywalker, almost stumbling himself as he helped Rakust down. "You can't just seek an audience with darkness!"
"Yes, yes I can. Goblin, remember? One of the last few purebloods."
"What do you mean, purebloods?" Daywalker asked. Rakust nodded to some figures in the distance. Daywalker peered; they appeared to be dwarves and elves, busy stripping a carcass of meat and smoking it.
"Very few goblins remain, now. There aren't many who realise, but we're a dying race."
"Can't you just..." Daywalker waved his fingers. "Breed more?" Rakust gave him a flat look.
"We're dying, not cattle. But yes, there's nothing wrong with our ability to procreate. We're just... I suppose you could say we're victims of expedience."
"Expedience? How so?" Daywalker's attention was briefly distracted by a small dwarven child, no older than five, dragging some firewood. His face was dirty and his clothes ragged.
"One of the problems with building a huge fortress is labour. Skill helps; I was amongst other things an architect for my own people. Yet there is a lot of brute force needed to move blocks, lay stone et cetera. Children take time to grow up. Slaves are good from the moment you capture them. With our impatience and eagerness to mobilise our war machine, we ended up with far more non-goblin slaves than goblins, slave or free. I suppose the big trouble came when we started freeing the ethnics - non-goblins, that is."
"I guess you got a lot of riots, then? Demands for freedom and that."
"Not really. There are always a few, but you can beat them down. No, the thing about goblin society is that anyone can rise from slavery to freedom and nearly everyone starts out as a slave. Of course, most never see freedom, but those that do tend to be exceptionally skilled and very difficult to bargain with. In this day and age, it is now all we can do to retain the leadership class. Genocide was considered, of course, but with so few purebloods we'd just be wiped out by the other races. The tragic truth is that we need the ethnics to survive. We've come too far in this direction to do without them."
Rakust arrived at the entrance to the fortress, the Monstrous Tower, and looked up. Impassive obsidian walls stared back.
"Ready to enter, then, Daywalker?"
Rakust looked back, but Daywalker had vanished. Rakust cursed himself for getting too caught up in his tale to notice the dwarf's desertion - or capture. Still, no time to search for him. Time to enter the Tower.
-----
Rakust stepped into the Tower dungeon and, to his surprise, found Daywalker waiting there for him. The goblin rolled his eyes and the pair continued on through the winding passages of the fortress, up to the highest level. There, standing on the roof and looking out over the valley, was Nguslu. It had begun to rain, and her black silk dress was beginning to stick to her arms in places. She turned when the pair approached and met Rakust's gaze with her own scarlet eyes. She wore a mask of moulded copper, the mask of the first Dark Lord reshaped to her own features. Framed as it was by her curls of lavender hair, it might as well have been her face. She might have been beautiful once, but centuries of the luxuries of the throne had fattened her already voluptuous body to obesity.
"Wardedhawks," she greeted him pleasantly, as if an old friend come for tea and scones. "I trust your journey was without incident?"
"Sasquatch, cougar, wolves," said Rakust, equally pleasantly. He gave a deep bow. "You know how it is, your Darkness."
"Indeed. And I see you have brought Savir Soundpost, as well?" Nguslu indicated Daywalker.
"No," said Rakust, shaking his head. "A companion from Prairiemerchant, Soundpost's home. Daywalker, bow your head to her Darkness. We must be polite."
The dwarf, bemused by the whole situation, gave a little nod of his head. Nguslu chuckled at the gesture.
"Oh dear, so terribly afraid. Is this a gift, Rakust? Should I flay it, and we eat him together?"
"Um, pardon me, lass," said Daywalker, his eyes darting wildly between the two goblins, "but I'm told I don't taste great."
"Before we have to think about who could possibly have told you that," said Rakust, rubbing his eyes, "I should tell you that her Darkness is mostly joking. We don't eat people, just flay them. You're thinking of elves."
"Well," said the Dark Lady, "now that that little bit of fun is over, to business. Have you come to kill me, Wardedhawks?"
"I've been asked to," said Rakust. He made no move for his spear.
"Anyone can ask. Yet had you accepted and promised with your word, we wouldn't be talking. You must know I have a counter-offer."
"I suspected," admitted Rakust. He hobbled over toward Nguslu's place by the fortress edge. "I would have expected you to have guards for this meeting."
"Perhaps I just trust you that much." There was a brief pause before both goblins allowed themselves a burst of laughter. "Of course," said Nguslu, "the real reason is that all the hunting crews and raiders are already gone, and my brother and the elven general are in the other tower."
"I'm surprised you didn't have them here with you," said Daywalker, "if you knew we were coming to kill you, lass."
"My spies have been watching you closely, Wardedhawks," said the Dark Lady, "ever since the one who betrayed you found out you yet lived. Oh yes, I know who betrayed you. Would you like to know? I can make that a part of your reward, if you agree."
Rakust said nothing, but his eye twitched.
"I know you're after the land around Strapnight," said Nguslu. "That's why you went to the elves. That's why they asked you to kill me. Well, land belongs to whomever can protect it. We can conquer that land, gift it to you. You needn't go through the elves at all."
"But he said he would-" started Daywalker.
"Did he? Think back on his exact words."
"He said he'd... earn our pay."
"Exactly. Rakust Wardedhawks is a smart enough goblin to keep his options open. And besides, Rakust, were you really so willing to kill your own kind again? There are so few of us purebloods now against the ethnics. I even have an ethnic general." Nguslu spat. "A strike against any one of us is another nail in our race's - our species' - coffin. You know that, Rakust.
"So this is my deal. Kill Imimi Mirthfulpass. In return we'll safeguard the land you desire, take you into our fold and make you the celebrated hero you are. Imagine being known for the deeds you've done, instead of some rich dwarf taking the credit. Imagine knowing who it was that betrayed you, having the chance of real vengeance instead of impotent spite. All this can be yours.
"What do you say?"
Rakust considered.
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Topic: Goblin Manor (Fortress) - Wardedhawks, The Home of Heroes (Read 17894 times)