“Chief! Report from Oirk!” Without any deference shown to him, the strange goblin with a head of red hair burst into the audience chamber. On a chair amidst a pile of bones, tKlor’t’t alternated between eating the hard remains and the soft bits of flesh on a large platter to his side. Most goblins after coming in so rudely would become his next meal, but Khthju was allowed a pass.
“Tell me.” tKlor’t’t kept his words short, continuing to gorge himself on all manner of the dead. It wasn't just goblins, but chikans, wargs, wolves, boars, snakes; none were spared in the hunt. Contrary to one’s expectations, he did this to keep his territory vibrant. His tKlor’t’t could only eat so much, and if the damage was spread out amongst the species there was less of an impact in the long term. Unlike many of his spawn, he was no fool; Khthju also demonstrated above average wit, which was why tKlor’t’t spared him. Intelligent goblins were a good weapon after all.
“Open conflict has begun in the outskirts of Oirk. The...hgutt inform us that the forces of the Outcast still stand by Khtraal. Uhkhjk’s forces were almost totally routed, but some defectors from Khtraal remain in wait. In addition, Ychk has enlisted the help of a human, powerful enough to keep up with the gorbwrae.”
“Keep up with Gorbwrae, is it?” The chief traced the ridges of the deformities along his flesh with a claw. Goblins cared nothing for appearances, yet those who lived a long time to become Chiefs on occasion wondered what it would be like to lack such irregularities. Bringing up raal, that Iyrkraal in particular stoked tKlor’t’t’s imagination.
Gorbwrae, one of Iyrkraal’s spawn. It wasn't his name—he had no name—but that was what made tKlor’t’t most cautious. Though Iyrkraal used taboo methods, his spawn were doubtless much stronger than normal. Gorbwrae stood above even the cream of the crop, his toothy maw and gleaming claws emblazoned themselves in the mind of all who survived his presence. When Iyrkraal was said, some even thought it referred to Gorbwrae.
For simple goblins, this could lead to a great upset in the command chain. Their empty heads easily were influenced, and it wasn't impossible for Gorbwrae to take the name for himself and steal Iyrkraal’s influence. Granted, almost all the Iyrkraal surpassed normal goblins in intelligence as well, but it wasn't impossible.
tKlor’t’t wasn't so naive as to think such a simple thing would escape Iyrkraal though. The Away Chief, who was otherwise outcast was so old and powerful that he still influenced the goblin clans, despite being exiled. Older than himself, Ghojtroik and Zhargorb, and Uhkhjk’s ages all combined, none of them would be able to match him. Yet he seemed content sitting on the edge of the forest, audaciously close to a human city far to the east. He was always plotting.
tKlor’t’t felt reasonably certain he knew why Gorbwrae lacked a name. Even for the result of a taboo spawning, if the other Chiefs realized it they would finally have to make the move to attack Iyrkraal. Ghojtroik and Zhargorb would incite all the goblins of the forest, and even were there no other dangers in the forest, the interracial conflict would likely be enough to wipe them out.
The Shechief and Bloodbirther held the second largest group of elites after Weaponhand. They were also the two Chiefs that took spawning, particularly blood spawns, most seriously; almost to a level of reverence. To them, Spawnless’ origins were a heretical existence; and they would work to destroy the Outcast and his spawn at any cost.
Gorbwrae was not any taboo spawn, tKlor’t’t tracked him since his appearance. From what could be gathered, Gorbwrae possessed the traits of the undead. The Chief didn't know how, but Iyrkraal managed to birth a goblin with undead traits. Not only that, looking deeper there were traits of one of the human races as well. Though a disgusting being who could not produce its own spawn, there was no doubt of Gorbwrae’s immense strength. Never did he tire, rarely did he rest; for a human to keep pace was a feat indeed.
“What actions did this human take?”
“He was observed making the dead and weapons vanish while fighting. He pulled other weapons from nowhere, and pulled out a body for the gorbwrae to eat. It is suspected he is a shaman of some sort. Ychk was seen speaking to him, and he worked with them to destroy the Uhkhjk. They parted on good terms, with the human giving the gorbwrae a body, and receiving a tooth in return.”
“Receiving a tooth? Not to mention his cooperation with the Iyrkraal… exchanging gifts of farewell, this human is not normal. If he works with Iyrkraal and Khtraal, Uhkhjk won't be in a good position. That upstart raal is too uncompromising. His lack of fetters are also a problem. Tell me, what’s the situation with their troops?”
“The hgutt are still in the process of confirming the locations and destinations; but we do have preliminary reports. Uhkhjk warg riders are beginning to return, bearing loads of unearthed weapons. They've also given up on attempting to fell trees, for the moment.”
“Hkejk! Of course they have, raal cannot be totally cast aside. It may seem like Khtraal’s death will not be due to our actions as well though. What are his movement?”
“Right now he gathers a force of elites. He’s naming them often, at least eight. At the moment they remain within Oirk.”
“What of his wargs?”
“They go on periodic hunting excursions, but don't seem to be preparing for battle.”
“Hkejk! Raal, you're 50 years too young to outwit me.” If anything, to deceive him Khtraal should have had his warg riders go on harassment missions. Wargs and their riders were not the kind to sit still. The only way Khtraal's riders remained so at ease without fighting was if they were preparing. After all, they missed the southern Oirk skirmish, how could they be so calm? Even without orders, it would be a matter of course for them to lose patience and cut down a few goblins in the wilderness.
Khtraal was likely waiting for Uhkhjk to make his move, acting like he was on defensive against a large and armed Uhkhjk populace. When Uhkhjk marched, Khtraal riders would cut down Yhrack. While more fragile, they were also lighter and more agile, and the armed raal warg riders would be able to deal massive damage to Yhrack. With their mobility, they could strike until retaliation began, rush back, and then snap at Uhkhjk’s troops from both sides.
Uhkhjk was no fool, but his philosophy of strength left him prone to overextending himself. His own elites would likely escape with him safely, but the majority of his troops and weapons would be left to Khtraal. He could attempt to incite a revolt from within afterward, but his position would be weakened to the point where his defeat was inevitable.
That would leave two nests to Khtraal, and Iyrkraal’s Hgutchrab might count as one as well. From there if they wanted to stand in Khtraal’s way, they could only unite, or run towards one of the other kingdoms and plead for aid.
However tKlor’t’t had yet to stand in the raals’ way. It seemed a new era of goblin life was approaching, and while he may hate them, raal were still goblins. If it meant living, he could see the plains around the tree. His spawn held variations as the Iyrkraal did, they weren't so far apart. tKlor’t’t would gracefully let the age of raal come.
“Take half the warg riders and set out. Move quickly, and when the Khtraal pack moves, move with them.”
“We’re siding with Iyrkraal?” Khthju snarled in disgust—the Chief threw a pelvis in response, knocking him over.
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“Do not question my orders. Uhkhjk’s time is done; he will be finished, and there is no guarantee our intervention can reverse this. If we side with Iyrkraal and Khtraal in this matter, we will be by their sides when the reckoning comes. That reeter of a raal has been plotting since before I was born, now that he's made his move, let tKlor’t’t move to his side before it is too late.”
“As you say Chief.” Khthju stayed on the ground kneeling. It clearly strained him; unrestrained like flames, consuming all in his path to spawn more of himself. Despite the flaws, tKlor’t’t felt Khthju was his greatest spawn.
Named for the head of hair resembling a human’s, unlike the Iyrkraal he still looked mostly goblin. Its flaming red-orange shade still attracted a great deal of attention. Formed after tKlor’t’t formed a craving for stomachs, Khthju began life quickly, after only a few weeks. His hands weren't as nimble as a raal, but his claws were shorter, making it easier to close his hand.
Along with explosive strength and incredible agility, he’d formed abilities that would easily be able to deal with a named goblin. When it rained, steam formed from his orange tinted hide, giving him concealment, and his fiery nature let him exert his full strength, and display a fearful aura that sent many cowering. The most powerful ability Khthju possessed, tKlor’t’t demanded he hide for the time being. Anything he grasped, with enough willpower, Khthju could cause to burst into flames. When he punched, a searing impact would be delivered, and he could burn goblin flesh with a touch. Khthju was a spawn of flames, and if he learned and grew old enough to become smarter, it would definitely be tKlor’t’t’s pride.
No goblin could be coddled though, the only way to advance and grow was through fighting and eating your nemeses. Khthju needed to fight on the front lines to become stronger still. Not all goblins lived to be tKlor’t’t’s age, it required plenty of feasting and more importantly to avoid being killed. However Khthju only spawned twice so far, meaning his ability to absorb a feast was much lower than normal. If that were the case, he could only fight and devour more to make up for his lack of talent, putting him in more risk. Well it had to be done.
tKlor’t’t watched his spawn leave, continuing to tear at meat and bone. His stomach heaved, alternating between swelling and deflating. Grumbling happily, he scooped up a pile of knucklebones to shove in his mouth. Many slipped through his fingers, and scattered back among the pile of small bones that escaped his clumsy grasp, so he grabbed another handful to crunch.
Manyretch, like many of the elder goblins, stood taller than his fellows. However, even the other Chiefs would be put to shame by Manyretch’s size. Almost six feet tall and four feet wide, his broad and bulging frame did not elicit a sense of obesity. A behemoth among goblins, his equally stout legs and arms had no trouble bearing his weight, though he did have a tendency to walk like a gorilla. His mass was almost no fat, just muscles and stomach.
Crunching the pile of bones beneath his enormous feet, tKlor’t’t ambled away from the throne room and towards the larder. Not a room that most Chiefs would order built, but he was tKlor’t’t. He spawned so many times that it became his new name, the ins and outs of the process were something he delved into at great length.
Rather than a larder, a zoo would be a closer concept. Animals trapped in pits, and tied to the walls, they varied from swarms of axe boars, to packs of wolves, to members of the human races. tKlor’t’t hoped he wouldn't have to eat the remaining elf; he was still having difficulty pronouncing the tricky elvish words. Well, despite his knowledge, he didn't have absolute control over the process; he could only eat appropriately at the right moment.
Stomach undulating irregularly, tKlor’t’t closed his eyes. Thinking of what he’d eaten over the past few days, and matching it with the feeling in his gut. What was it he wanted to eat? Something...hmmm. Letting out a groan from within, tKlor’t’t patted his belly as though soothing it.
“I suppose that means it doesn't have to be the elf.” Lumbering over to where the human races were chained, he looked between them. He ignored their gibbering pleas for mercy, for a time before speaking their language. “Silence!” He needed to properly evaluate them.
His gut only wanted something of a liquid nature, of course simple water did not have enough force within it. While certain animals were closer to one ‘nature’ than another, even though the human races had a strong soil nature to them, their blood was the best liquid to drink for watery spawning. tKlor’t’t had quite a few choices before him, and though he wanted the best, he also knew the faster he acted, the better his spawn would be.
Among the many human races, he settled for one of the animal people. An older boy with webbed fingers, fuzzy ears, and a long bushy tail; a member of the flying squirrel race. Squirrels were not exactly renowned for their ferocity, giving them a mellow, if somewhat flighty temperament that did not conflict with the soft, liquid nature he needed.
Those nearby cowered in tKlor’t’t’s presence, the darkness suited goblins far better than other creatures. To the limits of their bindings, they pulled away, but the squirrel boy could not escape the goblin Chief. Trembling uncontrollably, his chest began to rise and fall. tKlor’t’t took notice of this.
Yanking the boy’s arm, there was barely time to scream as his arm stretched farther than it should, dislocating at every joint. A tug of war between the goblin chief and the chain embedded within the wall, the boy’s hand collapsed; slipping through the chains, leaving a sheaf of skin behind. He couldn't shout for long, as tKlor’t’t bit down on his throat.
There were cries of fear, and sympathy from the livestock bound close to him; as he twitched, tKlor’t’t drew out the blood he could into his mouth. The squirrel boy’s pained expression could hardly be made out in the dark by his doomed fellows, but gradually his eyes turned lifeless. Not a drop of excess blood spilled from his neck, as the goblin chef made slight crunching and slurping noises, crushing the larynx within his mighty teeth.
Then the chief bent over with a groan. The newly captured held a glint of hope in their eyes, but those who had been in the larder longer knew there was no cause for celebration. As painful as it may appear, the writhing and dry heaving the goblin chief went through was just a matter of course.
With a bellow, tKlor’t’t’s jaw distended before retching. A brownish-green sludge with blue streaks poured from his mouth to the floor. It came all at once, and within the mass, a lanky figure could be seen. Like a worm thrashing in syrup, it contorted slowly. But as time passed, the sticky mass seemed to glue itself to the writhing figure. Soon, a body and limbs could be made out, and still covered in ooze, a goblin emerged. Shoveling the remaining ooze into its gullet, dirt and all, it looked to tKlor’t’t.
“Eat. Grow strong. Serve me.” The goblin chief commanded. Only two and a half feet tall, the goblin tinged with blue happily showed its tiny teeth, descending on the remaining flesh of the squirrel boy in a frenzy. tKlor’t’t would hate for good food to go to waste.
A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
What was that about a chapter 50.2 about the goblin civil war?
I'll do the spellchecks when I get back on a computer.