At the Goblin stronghold, somewhere in the Mountains...
?? Timber, 257, Late Autumn
It was late evening. A beautiful but bleak twilight sky brought some illumination to the landscape, but it seemed utterly blackened and dead, as if eternally cursed to reject life. Atop the dead rock stood huge towers of obsidian, topped with spiked barbicans and patrolled by hawk-eyed Goblins watchful for anything that dared to bring life to the stronghold. In one of these buildings, a great mead hall, caroused scores of dirty Goblins drinking, fighting and laughing as even the guards flanking the entrance downed mugs of crude booze. Along the sides of the walls hung a few half-starved Dwarven prisoners in cages, being regularly tormented by laughing Goblins. Suddenly, an ear-splitting gong rang out from the far end of the room, and a lanky Goblin with a long, hooked nose stepped up and spoke.
"All stand for the wise and mighty Azstrog Alem Xuspgasenga Sposlar, chosen Prophet of Darkness and supreme law-giver of Dostngosp Ngosteb (The Cruelties of Strategy)!!"
The throng quickly obeyed, though in their own chaotic way. Mugs of gutter cruor and bits of meat from some creature spilled to the cold floor to be snapped up by eager rats, and many Goblins elbowed the other and fought to rise. But all quieted down and straightened up when the tall (for a Goblin), robed figure of the law-giver walked into the hall. "My kin," he began. "do you enjoy the fruits of your labors?" Tremendous applause and shaking of fists. "Do you enjoy seeing our enemies plight, how they cower and beg for mercy from our swords?" Cheering and pounding of fists on the table. The robed Goblin paused a moment, looking out over the assembled Goblins. "Do you relish punishing our enemies for their resistance, to plunder, ravage and steal all they create to oppose us?" Thunderous cheers and some shaking of weapons. "Good! It is all how it should be! Our foes, these feeble Dwarves, are naught but runaway slaves who must be brought to heel and chastised for their hubris! Their cities, their fortresses, their farms and villages; all of them they would build as a sanctuary to cower from our wrath! Hah! There is no sanctuary from us! We will destroy their pathetic civilization, we will dominate their pitiful race, and we will create a new Empire in it's place, a true Empire, to bring this entire world into the fold! All shall serve, or all shall perish!!" The goblins cheered once more, drawing their weapons for emphasis.
The robed Goblin smiled. "Feast now, my kin, feast of the fruits of your labors, for tomorrow, we harvest once more!" The throng resumed their feasting and fighting with renewed vigor as the law-giver quietly walked away through another door, with the hook-nosed Goblin padding alongside. "Get me General Kima." he said, and the Goblin walked away. Slowly, Azstrog walked down the hall to his room. He was no Soverign, no King who would surround himself with grand tapestries and fine jewelry. He was but a humble servant, a voice of the true leader of the Goblin army. The room was fairly austere, like most of the Goblin stronghold. What furniture there was mainly consisted of wood, although there was several dishes and pots of fine bronze, and the bed was adorned with cave spider silk. He could afford some comforts, at least, if only to keep up appearances as the figurehead of the Goblin civilization; for that was all he was, a figurehead.
A steady knock sounded from the door. "Come," he said. A bulky, tall Goblin walked in, iron boots clanking on the stone floor. It was obvious he was a warrior, for his shoulders were broad, he wore a full suit of iron armor and a deadly scimitar hung from his waist. He wore no helmet, and his face was marked with several scars, some gained from occasional duels with his own officers, Azstrog knew. "You summoned me, sir?" he said with a clear, yet low voice. "There is a disturbance, General Kima," began the Prophet. "something is stirring in the mountains... On the Dwarves side." at this, a thin smile crossed Kima's face. "You fear they prepare a counterattack?" A frown crossed Azstrog's face, along with something else... uncertainty? Kima could not tell for sure. "No, it is something different. They are moving, to be sure, but not to attack. It feels almost as if they are building." Kima could believe that; after all, it was long known the Goblins had diverse means of finding young new Fortresses, as some of them were gifted with powerful scrying ability by the various dark gods they worshipped. But they hadn't tried anything in the mountains since -- "Wait, you mean they've begun constructing Fortresses again?" Silence for a moment. "It's a strong possibility. I can't see it very clearly, but I can feel it. Digging. Building. Cave-ins. Random time-devouring parties. All the signs are there; that's why I want you to go to the Horn of Parity and investigate the matter. If they are building a new Fortress, we must know about it and deal with it before it is too late."
Kima nodded and walked to the door. "And General," he called after. "remember; you will not commit large forces without permission. We don't want to alert the whole of the Mountainhomes just yet." another nod, then the General clanked out into the hall and towards the barracks. All would be well, he knew. It must be, if the new world his masters desired was to come about. Most of the Goblins looked up to him as the prominent figure, indeed nearly a King, but he was merely the servant of the true masterminds. Beneath the crust of the earth, the great Demons of old still lay trapped, tricked and defeated countless years ago by the thrice-cursed Dwarven God of Blood, Armok and his children. The Goblins needed to eliminate the Dwarves, eliminate Armok's children and worshippers, to pave the way for the eventual return of the true Gods and their Demon servants. It would be soon, he knew...
Soon...
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Topic: [Community] Ravencrown - Back from Madness (Read 20641 times)