Authors: Laszlo,Jeremy
Standing in his tent of poles and furs, Gnak looked to the two bodies before him. In mere hours the camp would be torn down and packed away in preparation for the march north. Yet here at his feet lay a secret he needed to keep. But how was he to spirit away two bodies?
Debating his situation for some time, Gnak could find no way to move the bodies with the army using his current means. He needed to devise a cart or container that they could be placed in that did not seem unnatural or suspicious, yet would not let onlookers see within. With time being in short supply, he needed the thing to be constructed immediately, yet the man he would usually ask to see such a task completed lay upon the ground, here, in his very tent.
Peering down to the goblin king, Gnak shook his head. It was a shame he would have to use him this way. But there would be no going back. Not now. Only the small green king would know the goblins he commanded that were best for the task, and only he would know how to command them. And so he would.
Stepping into a corner of the tent where he would not be spied if someone glanced within, Gnak lunged towards the goblin king, his essence separating from his orcish shell to join with that of the smaller ruler. Jerking upon the sand floor of the tent, Gnak tried to relax as the shots of pain lanced into his mind, as his muscles contracted beyond his control. It was excruciating and exhausting, that first leap into a new body, but in less than a half an hour, Gnak rose as memories flooded his mind once more.
Raising his hand to his face, Gnak moved his new body about with ease, and found the body’s lack of bulk quite different to that of his other two bodies. It moved more gracefully, with less effort, and raising himself to a seated position, he looked forward to walking about in the goblin king’s skin.
Seeking through the goblin’s memories, Gnak found himself both stunned and appalled. It was true. The goblin king was sharp of wit and was cunning beyond measure, but so too was he nefarious. Memory after memory flitted through his mind of bodies secreted away after he had killed them for countless reasons. Some were murdered for their wealth, others killed to silence their tongues. Some were slain because they might have challenged him in the future, and still others were slaughtered for reasons as petty as a strange look shared with the goblin king. The whole of his life he had been murdering men to further his own agenda. A wicked goblin indeed.
Beyond the hundreds of murders the goblin king recalled, so too did other important events from his life stand out. Though Gnak found it hard to determine the age of the king or the span of a goblin’s life, he could recall portions of the man’s childhood. He recalled a memory and watched it play out in witness to the evil deed. For here in the memory was likely the cause for the man’s murderous ways. For beaten by his own father, the goblin king was sold into slavery for a fistful of gold coins, where he labored for several years at the end of a whip until killing the slaver in his sleep. That memory seemed connected to another, and Gnak was forced to watch as the youthful version of the goblin king beat, with an iron rod, both his mother and father until they were little more than shattered green husks, oozing blood and other bodily fluids.
Memory after memory, Gnak sorted through the goblin king’s mind. Replaying several events from the man’s life, he did find moments of elation and victory, but found that nearly all of them were accomplishments of greed and murder. It was not until he stumbled upon the memory of the goblin king’s vision of the future, when Gnak paid very close attention, and he strained for every recalled detail as it played before his eyes.
Striding down the stone carved streets, rain lashed at his back as water poured over his face into both his eyes and mouth. Even in the unforgiving storm, hammers rang from every corner of the rising city as steam issued up from the drains carved into the roads. Beneath his feet the stone was hot, as lightning flashed through the sky in wicked fingers of pale death, only to be followed by the booming rumble of thunder that shook the world beneath him.
Ducking into a darkened alley, he was shrouded momentarily from the rain as he turned to brush his fingers upon the stone surface of a wall at the end of the ally. Finding the familiar catch, he pressed at the stone as the wall swung silently inward. There were thousands of passages beneath the city. Some were mines and others vents to carry the heat below up into the city. Still more were used for defense and others for reaching down into the depths of the world where molten rock and metals pooled like water. But not this one. No. It was one of his many secret passages to one of his favorite places.
Tracing the stone walls to either side of him in the darkness, he climbed down the many stories of stairs only to turn a corner and climb back up yet again. Three intersections and another hidden door later, he entered a room where the air was stagnant and uncomfortably warm. Even in the darkness he could sense its presence, and putting spark to torch within minutes he could see that which was his greatest possession. Here, hidden in the depths of the city, unknown to any but him, lay a mound of golden coins and gems as high as a troll and as large in circumference as a giant laying down. There was enough wealth here to buy a nation, or feed an army for a year, and the goddess told him to hoard yet more, and so he would. Assured that his stash was safely hidden, he poured two pouches from his belt into the pile before snuffing out the torch and sealing the room once again. Each day he returned and each day he became richer.
Whether it was the goblin king’s recollection or the vision itself, Gnak could not be certain, but from there it faded out and skipped to a different scene.
Outside the stone building the wind howled as it crashed into the walls of the city erected upon the mountain. Rain whipped, driven by the wind and thunder blasted with every flash in the sky. Crossing the polished surface of the floor, he peered into a silver mirror and adjusted the golden crown that circled his head. He was an impressive visage of wealth, one that any goblin would admire. Golden chains hung about his neck with great amulets of cut and polished gems. Shiny baubles pierced through his ears and a golden hoop hung from his nose. Rings adorned every one of his fingers and great bracers of gold encrusted in gems covered both of his forearms. Smirking at himself, he crossed the room and reached up to pull upon a candelabra that clung to the wall. To his left a secret door swung wide. Moving to the hidden door, he poked his head in and peered into the room beyond. There, unconscious upon a mat in the cell, lay both the orcsie chief and the trollsie king upon little more than the floor.
Turning away, he kicked the door closed and strode to the only seat within the room. Climbing the steps to its grand surface, the goblin king turned and sat upon his throne, a magnificent sight to behold by all, he was sure. It was time to hear the grievances of his people.
As the recollection faded again, Gnak grinned through the goblin’s face. He had thought himself the king of all the races. He had thought himself the king with the others as his prisoners, but he had been wrong. The vision was true enough, but what the goblin had not known, was that inside his skin was the orc he had planned to imprison. Fool.
Springing to his feet in the small goblin body, Gnak strode out of his tent recalling the names and faces of his best craftsmen. Though the festivities were still in full swing, he knew those in his employ would still be willing to work. With an idea in mind he sought out those he needed to create the design in little time, and sent them about their tasks with the promise of a great reward. The goblin’s knowledge of craftsmen would be very useful.
Though it took him excessively long to find all the men he sought, when morning came the goblin king retired to Gnak’s tent, assured that his will would be done. Though the daylight hours were usually reserved for the king of the trolls, he knew that the orc chief would be required to make sure all went as planned.
Shifting into the body given him at birth, Gnak stretched his muscles and twisted his joints as his body awoke to his presence. Seeking out Jen’s presence he reminded himself of his oaths, not only to the goddess he served, but also to the child who showed him a new way of life.
Then without hesitation, he strode out from his tent as the sun broke the horizon and tents began to fall all about the camp. Guiding his captains as the tent city was deconstructed, Gnak watched as carts were loaded and arranged in organized rows. Food and provisions were all collected together in one area, and tools and building supplies in another. Throughout the day hammers continued to clang and ring, the temporary forges working until the last possible minute. Parties were sent to scout and the handlers of the giants were all strapped into their cages as the mammoth men rose to their feet controlled by the tiny goblins. Satisfied with the progress, Gnak crossed back the way he had come and thinking of returning to his tent, he changed his mind and instead entered another.
Gathered upon the floor in the tent were seven orcs of varying size and age. Sitting in a ring, the man he sought would say words and those who accompanied him would repeat them. Not wanting to interrupt the shaman, Gnak nodded for the man to continue as he watched them for several minutes.
The word of the shaman’s healing abilities had spread and now he was instructing the shamans of other clans into service of the humans’ healing god. Though he could tell the shaman was simplifying the verses he used, he imagined that given time the orcs would command dozens of magically equipped healers. Perhaps even hundreds. If he was to build an army for the goddess, then he would need healers to see to their wounds.
Bowing out of the tent, Gnak watched as morning turned into day and day to evening as the camp all but disappeared around him. It was not until near dark when his captains came with troops to disassemble the innermost ring of tents in the temporary city. These were those that belonged to himself, the captains, and the shaman. Fortunately for the orc chief, he was not forced to delay them in their efforts, as no sooner than had the captains arrived, than a large cart was pulled into view, the likes of which he had never seen before, and propelled by a means he had not himself even imagined.
It was not a magnificent item born of elegance or desire, rather a hastily constructed patchwork of makeshift parts reclaimed from other devices. It boasted four goblin cart axles and eight of the wheels the smaller men had designed to pull through sand. Chains and linkages wrapped about pulleys creating a means to steer the front axles each in conjunction with the others, and a single large chain lay shackled to the front of the massive cart. To the chain smaller linking cables had been affixed, that each ended in a clasp. To the clasps, a dozen giants were attached, operated by the goblins caged upon their backs. The goblin craftsmen had put to good use the giants their people had captured.
The main body of the cart was formed of wooden planks held together with strips of forged iron and spikes, and from the wooden base, poles were constructed in similar fashion to an orcish tent that was covered entirely in several layers of leathers and hides. From the back of the cart an iron ladder was affixed that led to the only opening into the creation. Approaching the mechanism, Gnak looked inside and found to his surprise the space had been divided into three separate quarters, each with a seat and a bedroll. Grinning, he showed his appreciation of the device as he turned back to his captains.
“Take down your tents, men. I will speak to the king of trolls and the goblin king for a moment. When we have collected our possessions and are out of my tent, you are free to take it down.”
With his simple plan made and orders given, he stalked away from the large cart and the giants that pulled it and into the tent that housed the secret that gave him the army he commanded. Starting with the king of trolls he shifted into the body, bringing life back to its dormant limbs. Then rising, he rubbed his arthritic joints, massaging away the pain before collecting an armful of random items. In desperate need of a good heat source, he lumbered slowly from the tent to take his place within the huge carriage. Though it was difficult with his old joints and the small size of the ladder affixed to the wheeled machine, Gnak managed to get the old troll’s body inside before he willed his essence out of the man and shifted into the goblin king.
Springing from his concealment in the corner of the tent, Gnak licked his razor sharp teeth to wet them before looking about for items to collect. It took seconds only for him to select a handful of smaller objects and, trotting out of the tent like he had just won a bet, the goblin king stopped, seemingly appraising the work those in his employ had performed. He looked up and down and under the contraption before nodding his approval, and striding to the rear of the cart he nimbly sprang up the steps, disappearing inside. Once out of sight he deposited the items he carried in a heap in one corner, and laying upon the furs provided him for a bed, he closed his eyes.
Opening his eyes, the orc chief cleared his throat with a grunt, and with a crooked tusky grin he jutted out his lower jaw and strode empty-handed from the tent. Getting Pantak’s attention he gestured towards his tent, before turning to enter the cart made on his behalf. Gripping the rungs of the short ladder through his leather boots with toes of little more than bone, Gnak issued forth into the dark confines within. It was only an hour before the cart lurched forward, as he heard his captains and those kings of goblins outside begin to shout the orders needed to get the earth-shaking procession moving.