The Morgars
Friss stood by a large mud house, larger than any of the surrounding houses. This was the home of Sikke, the strongest Morgar in the village. She needn’t wait long as Sikke soon walked out, towering over Friss. As she was the biggest in the village, it was no big surprise that she led the soldiers in the village. What made her worse was that Friss had tamed Sikke’s personality, adding cunningness to the 2.0m tall Morgar exploding with muscles, though not at all enough to even face Friss.
Neither said any pleasantries or such as both began walking to the village building where the meeting between the elders would be held. Friss was the first to break the silence as she said,
“Is it done?”
She received a quick but succinct answer just as she had desired,
“Yes. I took some women with me and we did it before daybreak”
Although Sikke didn’t just end it at that as she carried on,
“Only you can lead the village forwards, and you now have that chance. Just don’t fuck it up”.
Friss chuckled a bit as she heard this, Sikke had used to be so tamed but it looked like she was regaining her previous personality. Whether this was a good thing or a bad one was only for time to tell, though Friss had many ways of fixing it if it went badly.
This was the only conservation exchanged between the two as they walked the rest of the distance in silence, no need for empty words when both already understood each other well.
The village hall wasn’t much bigger than Sikke’s house but the quality was much better, acting like a sign for the prosperity of the past. It was in a dome shape and also the only building in the village made out of stone, after all this village had meant to be the vanguard of the invasion. It was a pity that the Morgars faced internal difficulties during that time and this village had just been forgotten.
Both the Morgar’s entered the building to be faced with a large wooden table alongside with some furnishing. Around the table were 8 chairs, one for each of the elders, though only 5 of them were filled. Friss sat down at her seat while Sikke stood by her side, acting just like a bodyguard. The 2 seats missing were of the 2 elders most opposing of Friss; they would not be coming today or any other day, after all Sikke and her girls had made sure of that…
The whole procession waited for a few more minutes before the other elders also figured out that the 2 remaining wouldn’t be coming today. They had guesses of what could have happened but just let it stay in their minds as they had no proof nor the guts.
The oldest Morgar elder decided to start the meeting,
“This is the 107th meeting between the elders of the wolf village, officially known as the village 3 of the I plan under the great nation of Morgraz. Let it commence!”
Friss felt a bad taste fill her mouth as she heard this, these old cronies were still on about that. Well that was fine, after all none of them would no longer dare to say that after this meeting.
At first the table just talked of useless matters, every single one of them attempting to ignore the elephant in the room. After a while Friss just got sick of what was going on as she decided to bring it up anyway.
“Fellow elders, we were forgotten. Our village will only continue to deteriorate if we blindly put our faith in a nation that has already forgotten about us.”
Her voice was loud, her demeanour powerful and her speech honest. But it seemed to not get to the other elders as the rebutted her within seconds of finishing her sentence.
“How dare you say that elder Friss! You can be hanged for such a blasphemous comment about the nation.”
“Elder Friss you know that is not true. We are all daughters of the nation here, and the nation would never forget her daughters. We were sent here for a mission, we have a purpose and I will continue to live that very mission as long as I breathe.”
Slanting her eyes, Friss looked at each of the elders one by one. Each of them also had a bodyguard alike her for protection behind them, though none dared to keep eye contact for long.
“Fellow elders, you know what you are saying is a lie. We sent a scout months ago, and then another one, and another one… Why have we not heard of them then? Where are they? Why have we got no supplies nor support for over a year now, do you wish to live your dreams that much that you will ignore the reality?”
Friss carried on despite the ugly faces the other elders now made.
“I don’t know what happened but something did. The I plan of invading the great forest has clearly failed, we were meant to be the first wave of villages set up to check whether Morgars could survive here. We are living proof we can so when will the second wave come? Let me answer that: never!
I refuse to allow you people continue to dwindle this village down to rubble as you prolong your dreams with excessive imagination. I refuse to allow you to kill each and every Morgar in a nightmare as you continue to daydream. I refuse you the right to live if you dare still cover up your eyes.
WHO… IS… WITH… ME?!”
The other elders were clearly triggered by the severity of the situation as they began to edge back on their chairs.
Friss had allowed them the easy way out earlier by killing her biggest opponents prior to this meeting. All the elders knew it was her who did it and the implications of such an extreme action, yet they still dared to blind themselves. It was about time that they faced the truth.
The other Morgar soldiers, body-guarding the elders, all tensed themselves as they prepared for the inevitable movement.
Friss had allowed them the easy way out before the meeting and now she gave them another chance. They could stand with her and live, or they could once again go against her and die. Perhaps other leaders would just massacre all who went against them with no thought, but these were Morgars brought up in a prosperous nation meaning they all knew the costs of doing such.
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1 of the elders stood up, sweating in anticipation of what could happen. She then proceeded to erratically stare at each of the other elders, hoping they would do the same so they were in it together. It was her bad luck that the other 4 elders stayed sitting, all confident in their numbers as they began to stare down Friss. Friss had made a massive leap by forcing them into such a serious situation, but did she even have the power to pull it off?
Sikke began to look at each of the bodyguards, although she was the strongest, she was also vastly out numbered.
In response the bodyguards behind the sitting Morgars all took out their blade as they prepared for the bloody mess that was going to commence.
Bringing her hand up to her neck, Sikke slashed her hand across her neck as she made the motion of death for the bodyguards.
Simultaneously blades sang and Morgars cried their last as 4 decapitated heads fell onto the wooden table. Each of the bodyguards nodded at Sikke as they once again sheathed their blades, now sticky with blood.
Friss looked at the last remaining elder apart from her, who was shocked beyond belief as she looked back at her bodyguard, before once again coming eye to eye with Friss.
Voice beaming with joy, almost an insult to the fallen elders, Friss finished off the meeting,
“Elder Zara, it looks like the other elder have fallen unforeseeable circumstances. Oh well I’m sure our village will prosper without them anyway, eh?”
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Goblins
Damon shot past the trees as he chased the Blood-horn deer, a top tier 3 monster. He had first made contact with the animal a few minutes ago and clashed with it alongside with Gregal, only for the beast to see the odds not in its favour and run with all its might. Currently following Damon was Gregal who was just as fast as Damon himself, which was surprising considering how much bigger he was.
For Damon, Gregal was decent company. It had been years since the wanderlust had first struck but he had managed to stay his feet then, after all he had a village to protect. After a while Gregal came which made life interesting for a short while until Damon truly got to know the goblin. Gregal was very solitary and at heart not worth trusting, he was too self-interested to trust your back with. This had been the reason why he had left when the previous chieftain had been in power and refused to come until he saw Withil do a good job.
And yet despite all of Gregal’s misgivings, he was still better company to Damon than nearly all the other goblins. They others glorified him, they saw him on a whole different level never allowing them the conversations Damon so much desired. He had thought this would go away as time passed since they would get used to him but rather the opposite happened.
After all he had thought this when he had just evolved, after which he only got even stronger: achieving more and more amazing feats of strength which made even other high variants such as Withil to begin glorifying him. It was tiring but most of all boring, Damon did not feel any reason to carry on this lifestyle other than the kinship the goblins shared by blood.
In fact sometimes Damon would dream of the world outside the forest. There were in fact other races in the forest, especially here in the outskirts such as human adventurers and travellers. The lucky ones the goblins managed to beat would give them information about the outside world as long as Damon “asked them nicely” and it sounded WONDERFUL
. The world sounded so fantastic, and yet he was stuck in this depressing pitch of the forest, shackled down by the blood he shared with the other goblins. Of course he could have dreamt of going further into the forest where no one could ever feel bored, but all the animals and people he saw go deep into the forest were true monsters. He dared not attack nor face them, after all he wasn’t suicidal.
Damon flexed his hand before shooting forth a dagger, stabbing the blood-horn deer in the thigh as it still struggled forwards. Feeling the adrenaline of the fight come to a close, Damon once again felt himself fall from a peak to normal life as he realised the chase was over. On the other hand Gregal felt a peak in pleasure as he anticipated the kill…
It was to his bad luck that he would not be getting it, instead his kill was stolen by a blood-horn wolf which leapt out the undergrowth before snapping the deer’s neck with its jaws. The goblins had no time to react to the emergent tier 4 monster as what leapt out of the area opposite to the wolf was a massive troll?
The troll made no noise, nor any attempt to intimidate as it ran forward towards the wolf. The wolf acted aggressively as it realised that this troll wanted to steal its meal, as it tensed all its muscles before pouncing into the air.
What the goblins saw next would be something they would never forget: the troll caught the wolf by its gaping maw, before pulling its body apart… Thank the gods that the troll didn’t bisect the body in one pull but it still scared the goblins to sweat as they saw that the wolf’s body had been torn to the bottom of its ribs…
Taking no notice of its bleeding fingers, the troll looked disappointed at the now-corpse of the wolf. It was no challenge.
This was the first time the goblins got a clear look of the troll: he stood at 2.6m tall, dwarfing even the 2.0m tall Gregal and his muscles looked anything but natural as they bulged out monstrously. The skin that should have been blue was tinted purple and all across the troll were hideous scars, ranging from finger size to life critical.
Perhaps in any other situation, the goblins would have thought no thought whatsoever of contesting such a monster but this was no other situation. Instead right now stood the monster in a stupor as it stared at its fresh kill. Damon met eyes with Gregal before he nodded. Both of them picked out their weapon of choice, knife and axe respectively, before taking their time to simultaneously smash them through the air.
And it was a success. Sort of at least…
Both weapons had been thrown at full force and striked almost simultaneously, giving no time for the troll to react to the deadly ambush. But perhaps it didn’t need that edge, as both weapons thrown at maximum force had pierced into the troll but certainly not deep enough to kill. This would have been fine if this was on the thighs or somewhere but instead the knife had hit just below the neck near the traps while the axe had struck the troll in the abs. And yet despite hitting the troll in critical areas, the weapons had still not gone through and instead got stuck in its muscles.
“RAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR”
The troll roared in anger, turning to face his adversaries. It even had the luxury of being surprised as it looked up the goblins. Damon felt his insides melt as the dark red eyes looked through his soul, and he fared better than Gregal.
“HAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH”
A compulsory maniac laugh followed the roar as the troll casually pulled the bloody weapons out, not all cringing at the pain which followed.
“Goblins, eh? I’ve heard about you red one, my trolls call you a real devil!”
It took their feelings into no consideration as it carried onwards, though Damon almost felt his eyes pop out as he saw the bleeding stop. These had been wounds in critical areas and yet the bleeding had stopped a few seconds later… This showed clear manipulation of mana, well and above both his and Gregal’s understanding.
“Well now that I’m here I might as well check you out reddy and friend. Hopefully you at least give me a challenge, just make sure you don’t make me angry!”
The cheerful façade was over as the troll’s body began to grow, ending at a total peak of 2.75m as his massive muscles grew further, reaching disgusting levels.
“Oh I forgot to ask to introduce myself, got to make sure you remember me if you survive! My name is king, the troll King”…