I made my way to the makeshift dungeon, where the red skins were being kept. On the way I had Voglo brief me on the situation.
“The red ones are part of the Bloody Bones tribe, right?”
“Indeed. A bunch of zealous loons.” He snorted.
“How so?”
“Each goblin tribe has their own god. It was normal for us to raid each, either for food or territory. But the Bloody Bones Goblins started razing nearby tribes in the name of their god.” Voglo shook his head.
“It seems someone else figured out how to channel faith for war.” I thought to myself. I planned to use the Amber Skins’ worship of Yantago to grow the realm, and to reaffirm my authority. But it seems even some other goblin recognised the worth of zealous warriors. I didn’t plan on subjugating others in the name of god. I didn’t know how long I could keep up the “holy ruler” image. But I couldn't let such a volatile faction couldn’t to roam free, they would surely cause more trouble.
Arriving at the cells, I used [Stone-Shaper] to open up the wall. The mage’s hands were tied behind his back, and he laid on his stone cot.
“Looks like the yellow scum has arrived.” He sneered. “If you release me, I will consider not reporting you to The Bleeding One.”
I took out a stone flask, filled with undiluted mana potion, and splashed it on the goblin’s face. His skin began to burn, and he shrieked in pain. He tried wiping his face with his hands but couldn't. It slammed its face into the stone wall and tried rubbing the mixture off.
“Dunk him,” I calmly said.
A goblin guard grabbed the red skin by his neck and dunked him into a bucket of cool water, washing the potion off. He gasped for breath and glared at me with contempt.
“Know your position. You’re my prisoner and you’ll answer all my questions.”
The mage spat out some mucus and grimaced. “You think a bit of acid is enough to stop me! My body and bones were blessed by The Pulsation and The Marrow of Life. Your threats are meaningless.”
I laughed. “By the time I’m done with you, you will curse the names of your gods.”
As a former businessman, taking part in torture was not something required of my position. Thus, it was my responsibility to delegate. A few goblins, who desired vengeance, volunteered to entertain them. Of course, I insisted that they not kill anyone.
Their acts of cruelty ranged, from a simple beat up to burning parts of their skin with fire. I wasn’t fond of such methods, yet it wasn’t as if I could bribe a member of their tribe or hire a spy to infiltrate them. I used the only methods available to me. Though with every screech and yell echoing in the hall, I felt pain flare-up both in my missing leg and in my heart. A glass of wine would alleviate both.
Eventually, the weaker willed Bloody Bones gave answers. They were hunting the Gulk because they were “Godless heathens that had trespassed their holy site.” A good enough reason, for a zealot. Their leader was a hobgoblin called The Bleeding One, who ruled with prayer and cruelty alike. It would not be long before they started seeking their lost tribe members, which would lead them to us. Another glass of wine was necessary. Perhaps something stronger?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
They worship a duo of gods. The Pulsation was a beating heart, through which all the blood of the tribesmen flowed. The Marrow of Life was a cosmic bone that spawned the red goblins. A very sanguineous religion. Not one which I cared for since I was planning to eliminate them.
Between sessions of torment and subsequent blackouts, I was discussing affairs of the state with the Gulk. It was high time to name our home, especially since we would be building separate settlements for the Gulk.
“To celebrate the new members of our tribe, I saw fit to name our lands. From now on, this settlement shall be known as Yanberg! A name that honours us and our god. Our cave will be known as Chief’s Cave, to celebrate it as the site of my birth. Our forest will be named the Yellowstep forest, to declare our conquest of it. The swamp shall be named Humblebog, to honour our Gulk companions!”
Despite being not a particularly grand announcement, everyone still celebrated. This was due to the fact each good announcement was followed by a small round of drinks.
Interface Domain Holdings Yanberg [Capital], Chief’s Cave [Holy Site], Yellowstep Forest [Territory], Humblebog [Vassal Territory] Stance: [Neutral] Population: 93, (63 Goblins), (30 Gulk) Military Squads: None Relations Humblefoot Tribe: Vassals Woodwick: Trade and labour agreement Bloody Bones Tribe: Hostile
The interface updated itself automatically, including our relations between the Bloody Bones Tribe. It wasn’t an all-out war at this point, yet it served no difference.
The Gulk could not stay in Yanberg, not for a lack of desire, but due to a lack of sufficient infrastructure. These beings were huge and could only traverse our halls by crawling on the ground. It was simpler to make a well-designed town for them than it was to retrofit our settlement.
It was hard to design a house for a snail, it was harder to design a house for a swamp. “How did you used to live?” I asked Umlau.
“Oh, we are rarely used to shelter. On our travels, we just curl up in our shells for the night. The closest thing to a house I ever lived in was a sewer. Some of the elders might have lived in a shelter.” He explained.
“Since you are now no longer nomads, sleeping in your shells won’t be sufficient. Where will you store your belongings? All my subjects have a right to a home.”
His mushy moustached curled into a smile. “Thank you, my lord.”
To build a home, a solid foundation was required. That was the principal issue of a swamp. To circumvent this, their homes would be built upon pillars. To test the idea, I carved out 4 large pillars of stone 1 metre in diameter, and 4 metres in height. Alongside them, a large stone platform, and a snail shell-shaped dwelling to go on top of it.
The materials were carried to the swamp. Holes were dug for the pillars to go into and using [Stone-Shaper], I embedded them into the ground. The podium was placed on top of the pillars, and the shell room was on top of it. The final result looked like a snail shell on a table.
Umlau was pleased and slithered up the stone pillars like a normal snail and entered the dwelling. After a few moments, he returned and waved down at us. “It’s lovely!” He squelched.