Vevic’s heels echoed down the hallway as she walked with the girl Cordelia by her side. Vevic knew that the next hour would go a long way to determining just how the rest of her rule here at Reave would go. Challenges had arisen and needed to be faced. Her goblins had concerns and she needed to address them, one way or another.

One way, of course, would be to simply do as others before her had done. Tell her lackeys to shut up and get in line, or else. Rule with an iron fist. She was, after all, a dragon and as a dragon she was inherently superior to the goblin tribes she had taken control of. However, Vevic had greater ambitions than just becoming another petty warlord in some obscure mountain fortress. No, her plan was to topple entire empires and in order for her to accomplish that, she needed more than just the blind obedience that came from fear. She needed the broad support of her strongest warriors, which meant that she had to sit down with them and hear their concerns.

However, therein lied the problem: Her strongest warriors were idiots and their concerns were stupid.

She knew this because the goblin chieftains had taken it upon themselves to form a council, which Brightfeather had spied out and reported to her. Her main attendant and chief informer among the goblins, Brightfeather had sniffed out the council’s formation and then right as the first council meeting had gathered, slipped off to come to Vevic on the sly.

At first, Vevic had felt wounded and insulted that her warriors had formed a council without her consent. So wounded that her first reaction was to think of ways she might murder all of those involved. However, Brightfeather reported that the council was not, in itself, a conspiracy against Vevic’s rule, but was intended to, as Bright feather put it, “Improve the lives of all goblins living beneath the benevolent rule of her High Worship, Vevic of the Last Light.”

Sadly, that was as far as the goblin council’s noble intentions had made it. For, as Brightfeather had reported, the entire first hour of the meeting had been spent arguing over which chieftain would speak first. This had resulted in four fights, two of which had been lethal. It was after the second death that Brightfeather had slipped out the side door and found Vevic in her throne room.

Vevic had sat on her throne and sipped a fine red of Sommerdale vintage while she listened to Brightfeather’s report. As the little goblin neared the end of the story, Vevic looked down into the jeweled eyes of Ikzurash’s skull, the same skull that was now her wine chalice, and wondered just how the lich might handle this situation. Evil undead wizards were nearly always clever, but were also notoriously intolerant of outside ideas. So, as Brightfeather finished his tale, Vevic found herself at the conclusion that she really had no one else to blame but herself. It was her, after all, who had suggested that the goblin chieftains first meet together the one time to bring their concerns to her. Who was she to blame them if they took it a step further and meet regularly?

It was then that Vevic had hatched her plan. It had been stewing in her mind ever since Brightfeather had told her of the council and now Vevic was certain it was the best way to keep her horde in line before she lost any more chieftains.

So it was about ten minutes later that she was marching down the hallway with the girl Cordelia at her side. As they rounded a corner, Vevic glanced at the girl beside her. Cordelia was tall for a twelve year old girl, so that when she stood next to Vevic, the two were nearly of the same height. She was also, insofar as Vevic could tell, a bright child with a quick mind. None of this, however, was what made Cordelia useful to Vevic. No, what made Cordelia useful to Vevic was the birthmark on the girl’s shoulder. The birthmark that was in the shape of a burning shield.

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Cordelia’s birthmark of a burning shield was, according to the goblins, the holy symbol of the goblin deity Goroush which made her something of a mystical figure. So when Vevic had fetched Cordelia from her chambers, she had made sure the birthmark on the girl’s shoulder was visible.

This was because Vevic had decided that she was not going to address the goblin council. Cordelia was.

As they rounded another corner, the doorway to the great hall came into view. The raised voices of the surviving goblin chieftains could be heard through the cracked wood of the door. Vevic glanced again at the girl by her side.

“Do you remember what I’ve instructed you to say?” Vevic asked.

“Yes, mistress,” Cordelia answered.

“Good,” Vevic said.

Vevic knew what the problem was. Her horde had become too big for her fortress.

This was because Vevic knew what the problem was. Their fortress had become too small for their horde. Or, if you looked at it the other way, the horde had become too big for their fortress. Ever since she had defeated the lich Ikzurash, Vevic had watched tribe after tribe of goblins wander into the fortress called Reave. All of them wanted the same thing: new management. Word had gotten out. There was a new boss in town and she knew what she was doing.

While Vevic was pleased to know her rule had gotten such rave reviews, her new found popularity had also come with a host of problems. Like, just how did she make sure everyone had enough to eat? Or, where the hell was everyone going to stay? Or more importantly, how was she going to survive the stench of thousands of goblins packed into one tiny fortress on the edge of the world?

Currently she had the latest arrivals pitching tents in the courtyard and the surrounding fields. The smell was incredible. The worst were the dog pens as the goblin dogs smelled even worse than their goblin owners. So far, the only place the stench couldn’t get to her was her personal quarters and even there Vevic was beginning to wonder if the faint trails of goblin stink were seeping in through the cracks.

So she knew what needed to be done. She needed to expand. Find a new place. The challenge now was conveying this concept to her chieftains, who were obviously more concerned with the petty squabbling of their egos than they were with what the root of the problem was.

They had reached the doorway where the two goblins standing guard went wide eyed with fear at the sight of Vevic. To her, they looked like a pet who had been caught eating off the table. Vevic put a hand on her hip as she gave the guards her best glare. Without a word, they opened the double door.

“You’re a sniviling coward and a one-eared lackwit, Pink Belly. And if you say anything more about my mother, I’ll jump right over this table and take your eye balls out with a fork!” Gundak, one of her first chieftains, was leaned over the great table as he held his dagger in one hand a threatened with the other.

Across the table, the goblin named Pink Belly sat back with his feet up on the table and his bulk resting back in his chair. “I’ll say what I want when I want, Gundak. Your whelps and whores need to stay out of my field or I’ll not only see to it your mother is taken as a thrall for my pleasure, but that you and your entire family is worm food.”

Gundak, dagger in hand, looked about to jump up out of his chair and leap across the table when the double doors slammed. Suddenly, everyone in the room was staring at Vevic and Cordelia. Vevic crossed her arms and coolly leaned back against the wall as Brightfeather hurried off to find himself a chair. Then a hush fell over the room as Cordelia stepped forward.

“Friends,” the girl said. “I know that you’ve gathered here because you are frustrated and angry with one another. However, I want you all to know that last night I received a vision of Goroush himself. It was a vision of conquest and prosperity. One that told me what the next step for your people must be …”

As Vevic leaned back against the wall and listened to Cordelia explain to the chieftains that the horde would be moving to some place better, she found herself thinking of just where that ‘someplace better’ was going to be. She had flown past the fortress just the other day. It sat right in the neutral zone between the Empire and the Republic. There was just one problem: A hostile tribe of goblins stood in her way.

While she wasn’t keen on risking her horde in a true pitched battle just yet, she also knew that battle, true battle and not just a raid on a fishing village, was inevitable. I’m invoking the name of Goroush for a reason, I suppose. However, as she considered her options, another idea began to form in her mind. While she didn’t know who was in charge of the hostile goblin tri

be, she did know how most chieftains thought. And if I play my cards right, it might just work.