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The Bloody History Of The Su'Varock Mines

by: Jonathan Antony Strickland

Part 1:

THE SHADOW QUEEN

It was some forty years since the mines had been in operation and the air within had been filled with the rock dust from a hundred blazing picks. Now they lay quiet, only occasionally bursting into violence when some of the denizens within would haphazardly meet. The mines had been originally started by the gnomes of Quellmarick in the same bloody year that had seen three huge tribes, one of humans, one of elves, and one of dwarves, all join together and declare war on the demon Lord UnGaTeP and his evil hordes of orcs, ogres, dark-elves and dead things. The demon Lord UnGaTeP had been awoken twenty three years earlier, created from the suffering caused by the Red Plague, a disease so terrible that it took twelve years before the greatest wizards and alchemists of the lands discovered a mass cure to thwart the grotesque sickness. In those twelve years the number of dead reached terrific levels and as the suffering and death grew, so too was a terrible demon born out of the misery as the dying gave prayer in hope to ease their pain. At first the demon hid himself from the creatures he most hated and sought to destroy, the ones that walked in sunlight and slept in night. In this time his power grew, and not wanting yet to reveal himself to those he hated, he instead hunted out his allies, amassing a terrible army whilst simultaneously using his powerful arcane magic to raise the twisted and rotten. Once satisfied he had enough power, he set forth on the land, causing havoc and bringing death on all things good that got in his way. That war, now known as The War Of The Red Spawn, had started one hundred and eighty years ago, while the gnomes mined away heartedly, collecting precious metals and jewels from the bowls of the Su'Varock mountains. When The War Of The Red Spawn ended twenty two years later however, with the demon Lords armies finally defeated and the dark winged nightmare, who called himself Lord UnGaTeP, said to have fled in fear (never to be seen or heard of since), the mines were now no longer under the control of the gnomes.

For even though the gnomes had been hidden safe away, below and within the many mountains as a bloody war above raged, concealed from the many outside greedy eyes seeking great riches or even the hate filled eyes wanting to slate some form of bloodlust as they tunnelled and collected their booty, they had not counted on the dark magic of the Shadow Queen of the South. After only seven years her magic scrying eye had sought out the gnomes, discovering and revealing to her the many treasures that they had uncovered and horded. It took her just five months to reach the mountains, accompanied by her own personal army of goblins that for two hundred years she'd protected in the Stink Marshes of the South. Her attack was terrible, and even though the gnomes fought back hard, they could not stop the seemingly endless torrent of goblins that spewed into the tunnels they had dug, nor too could they stop the great Queen herself as she bit, clawed and breathed death down upon them. The Shadow Queen and her Stink Goblins took the riches and the mines quite easily, were she then ruled within the deepest depths as her goblins served her and continued the gnomes work, burrowing more and more, eating away at the rich mineral veins and collecting the many sparkling treasures that the prosperous mountains of Su'Varock brought.

And so it remained for over a hundred years, though within that time the Shadow Queen faced much adversity. First came the remaining army of men, elves and dwarves who had fought against the demon Lord UnGaTeP. They had been told of the mines and the great riches unearthed by the few gnome survivors that had managed to escape the wrath of the Shadow Queen. Legend can only guess at why these soldiers still sought out adventure and war after the terrible bloody battles they had previously fought in against the Demon Lord. It was not that they were particularly wanting for wealth, for after defeating UnGaTeP, they found the great horde of riches he'd stolen as he had dealt out death on any village or town in his path. A common belief that was first put forward by the philosophers of Chogarantua, say it is perhaps Lord UnGaTeP's last piece of revenge against the ones who had caused his downfall. They claim that on his defeat, the demon Lord possibly cast a curse over those who had brought an end to his fearsome reign, filling their hearts forever with an unquenchable battle rage. It certainly does seem strange to an outsider, for once the demon Lord had been defeated, the riches and spoils he'd amassed were now theirs and theirs alone, shared between every human, dwarf and elf that had raised edged steel against the unholy tyrant.

And so they came, clashing with the goblins, possibly trying to slake the burning bloodlust within their themselves. However, they were not the force they once were. Their numbers reduced to but a fifth of the amount from when they'd first took up arms against the Demon Lord. And even though their weaponry and armour was of much greater quality that that of the goblins, the sheer numbers of the small green ones was just too much for the men, elves and dwarves to overthrow. Even age played a part as the older warriors fought bravely but found that the stamina they once possessed years before was now lacking within their ageing limbs.

As the goblins tore up their ranks, leaving less than fifty alive, then did the Shadow Queen make her entrance from the depths that the warriors fought to conquer. Even these stalwart old warriors, who had faced Lord UnGaTeP and his fearsome army, quaked in horror as she revealed herself, towering darkly above them, mockingly grinning, as her jet black serpent eyes narrowed just before she spewed out the green filth from her gut to cover and dissolve the last remaining soldiers of The Demon War.

Part 2:

DIRTY OLD ONE EYED GREEN SKIN

Next to attack the mines came thirty powerful wizards of Plogaron, and accompanying them the small Plogaron army who had joined forces with a neighbouring band of battle tough troglodytes who lived within the harsh and vast Kelp forest. The people of Plogaron were ruled over by thirty seven evil hearted wizards, and though the wizards offered protection from outside invaders, in return they asked for a random blood sacrifice every full moon. No citizen was spared, be they old, young, wealthy or poor. The only reason for this sacrifice was to keep the local populace in fear, for the wizards took their power from enslaving minor demons that had been created through some small yet horrible occurrence, making the monthly sacrifices ideal for their purpose. They would then charge their magic with the hatred, fear and suffering that made up the demons very essence. Only seven of the oldest wizards were left behind to defend and govern Plogaron as the army marched towards Su'Varock.

These Plogaron's came strictly for the riches, whereas the troglodytes sought not only the riches, but an escape and a new home from the forest that for over a thousand years they'd lived in. The forest itself was not dreaded by the troglodytes. Indeed, the group who had joined with the wizards actually loved the green lush woods, tricking and slaughtering any meat they found within, be it animal or intelligent. In fact, there was no meat a troglodyte would not eat. They had planned on slaughtering the wizards once the goblins had been driven out and looked forward to tasting the magically charged flesh.

The reason they fled the woods was because of Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin. He had made his home six years ago within the centre of the forest, digging out a great cave in the ground to sleep in after a particularly powerful group of hardened adventures had driven him from the castle ruins of Dankmood that he'd lived in for nearly two hundred years. Dankmood had once been a thriving populace of humans, elves, dwarves and halflings, until the day came when Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin (who back then had been known as just Dirty Green Skin. It had been the troglodytes that had added the Old One Eyed part to his name) came down from the sky breathing his choking breadth that asphyxiated all who breathed it in. The Dankmood people who survived fled, leaving their homes and castle behind, to set up new lives far away from Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin.

Over the next two hundred years, Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin lived in the castle, taking great pleasure in watching it decay around him. He only left his home when he needed food, though in these parts food was easy to come by as great mammoths roamed the vast grass lands around the city. Only occasionally would trouble come, and always in the form of adventurers, keen to displace him from Dankmood and gain the small cities wealth that Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin had horded into his nest.

Most of the time these adventurers proved little problem, and even could be quite tasty and a welcome change from stolid mammoth meat. Sometimes though there would come a party who could challenge even him, though for two hundred years the only serious injury he'd suffered was for one of his eyes to have been put out by a particularly accurate elven archer. Later, he'd skewed the elf alive and ate him slowly over the next few days.

Over the many years more adventurers came, but all fell before him, later ending up as his food. But then a party of seven adventurers came like no other before them. These were truly powerful, riding on the backs of strange and fantastic beasts, brandishing glowing enchanted weapons, able to incant grand magic to protect them from Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin's terrible breath. He did manage to kill two of the seven humanoids that day, but it took out all his fight as his green hide was sliced and magically scorched by an onslaught that was so terrible, he quickly came to realise that his only chance of survival was to flee, taking to the skies and leaving the adventurers and Dankmood forever behind him.

He flew for days, seeking out somewhere safe he could rest and regenerate the damaged flesh that served as his armour. Eventually the great Kelp forest loomed before him and he knew that this place, for one such as he, being as big as he was, could keep him well hidden and with a bit of luck free from those nasty adventuring types. It also provided a reasonable place to hunt food, mainly from a large nest of troglodytes who made their homes in the spidery underground caves made by long dead roots from great giant fir trees, thousands of years old. Being so big he could not fit into their caves, so he had to dig the troglodytes out, using he's keen hearing to locate their underground shufflings. They weren't very tasty and could also be quite vicious, but at least their simple weapons could hardly break through his skin.

The wizards had learned of the Shadow Queens ability to scry the lands and watch over her own, which meant a surprise attack on her and the Stink Goblins was impossible for a large army, such as the one they now commanded. But with the wizard's number being so great, meant that their magic was extremely powerful and they blocked her all seeing eye as they marched towards her realm. So as they finally reached the Su'Varock mountains, leaving the soft earth of the hills and stepping into the vast fields of shale, no doubt dug out from the mountains very guts from the gnome miners of the past and the goblin miners of the present, they saw for the first time one of the many openings which led into the mines. They were pleased to find that their arrival had indeed gone unnoticed, with no defences set to hinder their forthcoming assault. They knew though that they would have little time before their position was reported to the Shadow Queen, and even though a bit weary from the march, they did not rest. Instead they made ready for war, the men forming military ranks with line upon line wielding pikes or swords, and behind them archers trained in the longbow. The mass of troglodytes who were behind the men, armed themselves with spears and clubs. They danced about insanely, croaking as they worked themselves up at the thought of fresh meat being in their bellies once the battle was won. And although they knew nothing of large scale warfare, they still were ready to spill some blood and would prove a terrible force for most armies of similar a number. They swarmed together in a gigantic and chaotic group, waiting for any form of attack to issue forth from the mines.

It was however the wizards of Plogaron who were first to attack as a group of soldiers guarded them and the toad like troglodytes made ready for the follow-up. They weaved their magic as a huge conch shell that measured the size of a large man was brought forward. The shell had been carried all the way from Plogaron and was now placed at the entrance of the mine. Then pointing the massive opening of the shell into the mine they cast a specific spell that had been specially created by the thirty seven wizards as they planned their attacks within the village of Plogaron. The troglodytes and the Plogaron soldiers watched and listened as the huge shell began to vibrate and a quiet screeching noise poured out from the shell and down into the dark depths of the mines. The noise was barely audible to most ears but had been designed specifically to effect that of goblins. And as the noise reverberated around the vast shafts and corridors within, the goblins howled and whined as their ears throbbed and faces grimaced in pain.

Out they flowed, a green wave of hatred and curses directed at this new enemy. But though a lot of goblins issued forth to be met by the fierce troglodytes and the men of Plogaron, it was not the great number that the wizards had prepared for, nor did the Shadow Queen enter into the fray as the wizards prepared yet another spell to combat against her, if she was to make an entrance.

As these hapless goblins fought a losing battle with the soldiers and troglodytes, the wizards waited behind a wall of their best warriors. As battle raged in front of them, the wizards gave the command for a large metal rod the length of three men to be brought forth. This monstrous rod, made from an alien metal, had strange mystical symbols painted upon it. It was so heavy that it had to be carried by four strong slaves. The wizards then directed the slaves to point the tree sized metal rod at the mountain.

As this went on and the goblins numbers dwindled, cheering men and galumphing Troglodytes began to celebrate the soon to be victory, shaking their weapons skyward, but then stopping suddenly as they beheld the forthcoming horror. For too late was the danger spotted as from behind the wizards a huge black shadow began to loom. Turning to see what their men and the troglodytes gaped at did the wizard's look up at the Shadow Queen as she gave a mighty roar, with her huge flying form closing in on them fast, she swooped downwards from behind the hill they'd marched down but moments before. To add to this dreadfulness, the grounds all around them began to explode upwards in small pockets of rocks as thousands of goblins who had buried themselves beneath the shattered stone burst forth, using small tubes made from marsh reeds to breath out of while buried. These reeds had been minutely poked up out of the ground, just enough so as the tip tasted the air and thus remain virtually invisible to the eye. They had cunningly laid in wait for nearly half a day, ready for her trap to be sprung and listening patiently for her call to arms.

Green and yellow bile spewed from her mouth, vomited downwards onto the wizards, dissolving their flesh almost instantaneously, then eating away rapidly at the muscle and bone beneath. Of the thirty wizards, eight were killed outright, three more suffered mortal wounds and lay dying on the ground, two were blinded and in terrible agony as their skin blistered awfully, only seventeen managed to survive her attack mostly unscathed. These wizard's gave the order to the four slaves to raise the metal pole quickly, and to aim it's end at the Shadow Queen as she tore through the sky above them, heading high over the mountains. Summoning up their magical power the seventeen chanted a spell they'd specially designed for dealing with the Shadow Queen, concentrating on the metal pole that the slaves held aloft as they followed her flight.

A sound that seemed to rip the air apart suddenly was heard by all, even those in combat crunched up their faces and gritted their teeth as the noise reverberated all around. A bolt of blue and red lightening shot from the pole, burning and killing the four slaves holding it. The mystical energy shot through the air, straight at the Shadow Queen, striking her back and sizzling her left wing to a crisp. Down she plummeted, crashing and tumbling against the side of a mountain, her deadly claws flailing at the mountainside but utterly failing to stop her descent. As she came to a stop, there was no doubt that she was hurt badly, one wing useless and a huge charred wound in her side. But she was still alive.

The wizards plan had failed. With the Shadow Queens attack killing and injuring so many of them, the seventeen wizards that were left could not manage to conjure up enough mystic power to slay her. And although she was badly wounded, the fact that she was still alive and roaring meant that the goblins still fought bravely and many swarmed around their Queen to protect her from any soldier who might try and claim her life. No doubt at that moment the wizards wondered why their plan hadn't succeeded. How did the Shadow Queen know of their coming, for they were sure they had stopped her magical scrying eye from spying them out.

Unfortunately for the wizards, the answer to this question came but moments later for behind the mountain that the Shadow Queen had fallen onto, a new and even bigger terror appeared, spreading his great green wings and roaring evilly at a nearby group of amazed and terrified troglodytes. It was Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin that now filled the sky, flying down towards the battle below. He had come here, out of anger. For when the majority of the troglodytes had left the Kelp forest to join with the wizards of Plogaron, he had wondered where most of his food had gone. So upon capturing one of the few remaining troglodytes, instead of killing and eating it straight away, he'd tortured it slowly until it told him of their plot of how they planned to take the Su'Varock mountain mines with the help of the Plogaron wizards.

The anger inside him stewed that day as he lay in his den thinking of how the troglodytes had run off and left him with a few measly pickings to feed on. So gritting his huge and many sharp yellowed teeth, Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin decided that he would beat them to the mines and claim the treasure for himself. And once he had control of the mines and killed some of the goblins that ruled there, he would offer the rest of them a deal. Serve under him and help him defeat the forthcoming army, or die and be eaten. He knew that the cowardly goblins would defiantly choose the former option. Then he would await the unknowing invaders, kill the slimy and tasteless troglodytes, and eat the juicier humans. It had been a while now since he'd devoured a good lot of meat that wasn't trog and although he'd eaten goblin many times in the past and not particularly cared much for its flavour, it would still make a welcome change. Until the humans turned up anyway!

However, upon reaching the mines he was not too surprised to find that the goblins were ready for him, standing un-goblin like in tactical battle formations. His keen nose had picked up on the distinct smell of magic in the air as his flight drew him closer to his destination and he knew he was being watched by some form of invisible eye. So he had actually half expected this as he knew that for such a large group of goblins to exist together there must be some greater ruling power keeping their chaotic behaviour in check. He'd surmised that ruling over the goblins would be some form of leader, a fairly powerful demon, or perhaps an evil wizard who would confront him and use the goblin ranks to distract him from their attacks. What he did not expect was that their ruler would be one of his own kind.

And so it was that for the first time the black dragon who called herself the Shadow Queen came snout to snarling snout with Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin, a much larger male green dragon. And at this point things could have become very nasty indeed. However, for dragons to have lived as long as the Shadow Queen and Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin, slashing with claws, swiping with tails and wings, followed by biting with bone splitting power and breathing out their deadly breath, these were secondary options only. Both had learnt that when facing an equally powerful foe, fierce confrontation and aggression was not always best! So once a few snarls and curses had been exchanged, an uneasy calmness followed as the two sized each other up and assessed their positions. And then, to the surprise of the goblins, the two great lizards began talking to each other in their own strange and unique serpent tongue.

As conversation flowed, it came down to the fact that if a fight was to occur between the two then Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin, who was considerably bigger than the Shadow Queen, would no doubt win... Well, in his opinion anyway! And he took great delight in pointing this out to his rival. However with the Shadow Queen having her army of goblins to defend her, she thought the odds swung clearly in her favour. As this was pointed out to him, Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin made the point that his attack would be directed solely at her and by the time the goblins could muster up any counter attack, he would have her head, and with it the mines, the treasure and her goblins. This in truth was a bit presumptuous of Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin and the Shadow Queen was quick to point this out, stating that even though he was bigger and stronger than her, she would still be no easy kill and the consequences of fighting her would leave him in a very bad way. She also stated that her army of goblins were no ordinary goblins. Her goblins were totally loyal to her, and would defend her no matter what.

This made Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin bellow out a great laugh, much to the annoyance of the Shadow Queen. He knew loyalty amongst goblins was virtually nonexistent. Especially when considering that the once power controlling them was suddenly snuffed out. What he didn't know was that in this case the Shadow Queen spoke the truth! Her Stink Goblins were indeed fiercely loyal to her.

As his mocking laugh left him he suddenly sensed the Shadow Queens annoyance that built on her determination not to back down from him. With this sense of power from his opponent, he surveyed all around him and saw now for himself that the fear in the goblins had dwindled to be replaced with anger and menace, showing clearly in their eyes as he challenged their beloved ruler. This impressed him and he decided then and there that a fight between the pair might well end badly. What was needed was a gentler and more diplomatic approach. So in the end it was Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin who backed down, deciding on lying about his reason for coming to the mines. He claimed to her that he was simply offering his services in defence of the forthcoming battle with the Plogaron's and troglodytes who had mistreated him in the past.

She of course was very shrewd and knew he was most likely lying, though she detected his sincerity when he talked of the army that was marching against her and his annoyance that bordered on some form of hatred for the troglodytes. So knowing nothing of the army and wizards that marched to overthrow her, she began to quiz him further, though she didn't let him know she was completely clueless to the marching army. Soon the two great wyrms were in deep conversation. At first there was a lot of mistrust between the pair, but as they talked more, a bond began to form as the snarls and hissings died down, and a plan to defeat the invaders was thought up.

And so it was that the wizard's and men of Plogaron, accompanied by the devious though somewhat dim-witted troglodytes of the Kelp forest, came to a tragic end at the hands of the goblins and their old and new rulers. For after the battle had been won and all the enemy had been slain, an alliance that would later lead on to affection between the two mighty dragons formed.

No one knows how many young those two dark hearted wyrms produced in their short time together within the mines. And though they were both dragons, the fact that they were of different stock meant that their spawn was never natural. Upon hatching they would never posses the grandness and splendour of a true dragon, instead being tainted and perverted freaks that once judged by their two parents to be able to fend for themselves, would be then sent out of the mines to wreck havoc on wherever there deformed bodies and twisted minds would lead them.

Thirty seven years the two ruled the Su'Varock mines together. They were thought untouchable with every attempt to swart their rule from outsiders instantly squashed. Not even the adventuring types could overthrow the two dragons working in unison and Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin took great pleasure in the day that saw the same group of adventurers that had forced him from his home in Dankmood, four years previous, turn up one day and seek to take the mines for themselves. Like some before and many after, they had not bargained on how powerful two dragons working in unison would be. And though they themselves were powerful, their supremacy in the past that had seen them drive Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin away from Dankmood was now dissolved to nought as they all fell to the might of the two tyrants.

More would come and many goblins would die. The goblins however bred fast and their numbers after only a few years would be replenished, and in battles when the Shadow Queen or Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin would suffer terrible injuries, the other would be on hand to defend their mate with tooth, claw and breath. Even when the injuries were so terrible that either of the dragons natural healing was not capable of repair, the Shadow Queen's great magic was, and over time she even managed to regrow the eye lost by Dirty Old One Eyed Green Skin so that he now became known as Dirty Old Green Skin.

However, all empires must eventually fall. Though the rule of the mines would not end to sword and shield, though it would play a part. Neither would magic be their downfall, although it too would play a part as well. It was mainly down to tooth, claw and a fiery breath, hotter than a thousand burning torches that would eventually see the two dragons finally dethroned.

Part 3:

THE BURNING SKY

Word had spread far of the mines, telling of the goblins and their two terrible leaders. So far in fact had the word spread that a new ear of power now listened in on the story with great interest of the fabled riches that had been unearthed since the hard stone under the Su'Varock mountains had been excavated. This ear belonged to "The Burning Sky", who lived within a volcano that he'd personally named in his own tongue, calling it "Tavoc'Knirad" which meant "The Forever Flame". He had found it many centuries ago in the lands that lay many leagues away to the East of the Su'Varock mountains, a sulphur spewing heap of filth that suited The Burning Sky perfectly. In his younger years before discovering the volcano, he had pillaged the villages and towns of the east, burning them to the ground, killing all around and taking what treasure was left. He then hid the wealth in various places as he continued his callous collecting, at times burying it, sometimes using his magic to disguise the coins and jewels for worthless rocks, or storing it away in some high deserted and hard to reach cave. However thieves have their ways, and as big and as deadly as The Burning Sky was, he could not always be there to stop the odd brave scoundrel seeking to prosper from his illegitimate gains. So on finding the volcano, a great problem to the occasional problem of theft was solved.

Not many could withstand the choking stench of Tavoc'Knirad, thus The Burning Sky lived there mostly untroubled with his wealth. Only his orcs, an enormous group of blood thirsty thugs that he overthrew easily and now ruled over, thrived on the stench and the misery of the place. The Burning Sky had collected them from the many rebel orc tribes that also caused gloom and despair on the populaces of the East. They swore their loyalty to him, else face death at the dreadful mouth of The Burning Sky.

For a long time The Burning Sky had been content, hording the riches he'd acquired over the years within his lair and letting the orcs hunt out his food and deal with the rare cases of trouble that dared to bring a challenge to his cavemouth at Tavoc'Knirad. But though his horde was large, riches that would make most of the other races proud, for one such as he, the noblest of all races, and possibly the strongest and deadliest of his kind, these riches slowly grew smaller and smaller every passing day as he set his serpent eyes to gaze greedily down upon them, counting the thousands of coins and admiring the many twinkling jewelled trinkets. Over time the contentment that he'd first felt began to wither and die. He was older now and had pillaged all about him. What is more a laziness had grown within him, common within his kind as the years slipped by. Now the thought of having to go out and hunt seemed a dreadful bore, whereas before, when his scales were still fairly fresh and gleamed a bright red, he actively sought out new places and creatures to destroy and steal from.

Then came the news of the mines and the treasure within that set all minds spinning. How it was guarded by a mass of viscous goblins and an enormous male green dragon with his mate, a cunning and controlling mystically talented female black dragon. Their rule was said to be terrible, slaughtering all around the mountains so that other races left, whole villages and towns lucky enough to escape, upped and fled for safer ground. Not all did escape he was told. The dwarves who lived in the hills of Horntop, men from the small villages of Dredgepool, Tangbrill and Spooring, and a small warren of halflings living in the hilly woods of Unk-Kekek, all fell prey to the denizens of the Su'Varock mines.

But what really insulted The Burning Sky and made him snarl out a smoking hateful sneer was the fact that a lot of these tales ended with stories of how the two dragons where considered the worst of their kind. Had the other races forgotten him so fast! Had they too forgotten how he was renowned for killing dragons, wiping out the ones who lived in the lands that he now ruled over. It was not long after this that The Burning Sky decided that although the task would be difficult, although many of his orcs might die (though in truth he did not really care much for his orcs) and he himself would no doubt have to risk his own life, the reward of the treasure and the fact that it would be his name whispered by annoyed mothers and fathers of all races to scare their badly behaved children, was more than good enough for him to make up his devious, greedy and jealous mind.

Thus after many leagues marching, a mass army of armed and battle hardened orcs reached the Su'Varock mines with their gigantic and terrible leader flying high above. And though the Shadow Queen scried constantly for threats, she never saw the forthcoming danger. For the second time her magic was overcome, leaving her, Dirty Old Green Skin and the goblins unaware of the new threat. This time though, it was not by thirty powerful wizards, but by a single individual more powerful than any other that she, Dirty Old Green Skin and the goblins would ever face.

Of course some goblins were always on guard at the entrances to the mines but they only spotted the threat as the orcs drew dangerously close. The Burning Sky had again used his magic to silence the marching footfalls and had thickened a gray chilly mist that often caressed the mountains to camouflage his soldiers and himself from any searching eyes.

The goblins who had sighted them first, sounded the alert, blowing on hollowed out rams horns, sending the shrill notes down into the depths of the mines. Upon hearing the alarm the goblins within sprang into action, thousands of them grabbing their short spears, bows, clubs, swords, axes etc... and then charging upwards in a chaotic run to the nearest entrance, treading on any underfoot who was too slow or too clumsy to ward off the unknown threat to their beloved homes.

Even though the goblins acted quickly to get into defensive positions, the orcs had the advantage, overrunning the many entrances before the goblins could protect them. They were ruthless in their attack, slaughtering the goblins as they made their way into the mines. And whereas against most opponents larger than themselves (as the orcs were a clear two head sizes taller than the goblins) they would of had a clear advantage within the cramped dark corridors and mineshafts, these orcs had trained specially beforehand within Tavoc'Knirad and her surrounding mountains with their many natural and orc-made tunnels. In the end it was the goblins that were pushed back deeper into the mines as the orc onslaught flooded through every opening, trampling over any dead or injured orcs and goblins alike.

The fighting underneath the Su'Varock mountains raged for the time it would take a Golden Olambion Candle to burn down to its base before the orcs finally penetrated the goblin defences that guarded a great natural cave. Within this colossal cavern Dirty Old Green Skin and the Shadow Queen waited and wondered. The Shadow Queen knew that her magical scrying had been blocked. She also knew too that this meant that some form of powerful magician helped the orcs, and as the goblins shielded her and her lover from a bombardment of missiles as the orcs began to pour into the cave, her eyes darted from enemy to enemy, in search of the tell tale signs of anyone who might wield some form of mystical power.

The first wave of orcs was destroyed instantly by a combination of the choking breath from Dirty Old Green Skin that sucked out the life given air from the orcs lungs and the hissing flesh melting acid steam that poured from the Shadow Queens mouth. As the two gathered themselves, the next wave of orcs came. This time they were met by the goblins, or occasionally by the claw and bite from one of the two great serpents as they both began to regather and remix the fluids within their bellies that they turned into their horrid breaths. As the fighting raged all around, the Shadow Queen observed her enemies closely but so far she had spotted no mighty wizard or potent witch amongst the unsightly enemy rabble.

And then he came... With a huge roar that first shook then lit up the enormous cave with a burning flash of red hellish light as the third wave of orcs crashed in to be met by the goblins. And what followed was much worse than the Shadow Queen had at first guessed at. He lumbered behind the orcs, his size making them look like fleas that had jumped off a great red hellhound. He dwarfed even Dirty Old Green Skin, and the aura that a beast such as he gave off made the goblins shake in fear and forget for a moment about the other two like him who they defended. Some even dropped their weapons and huddled down to the ground, closing their eyes and shaking uncontrollably, not wanting to believe what they'd just seen in fear that their skulls may well crack and insanity seep into the wound. Even the Shadow Queen and Dirty Old Green Skin looked on, shocked at first, mouths agape, before the powerful glamour he cast was shook from their eyes.

The great red dragon known as The Burning Sky gazed maliciously at the two similar to himself. He cursed audibly at each as his eyes were met by theirs, bringing courage to his orcs before the final attack was given by both sides and the last remaining goblins met with his orcs in bloody battle for the final time. For some time the struggle went on, the three dragons holding back from the main battle, occasionally ripping apart and crushing one of their tiny opponents soldiers who had carelessly strayed too near to them. The noise within the cave was deafening but still the whispered serpent curses of the dragon speech cut through the screams and shouts about them as The Burning Sky insulted and taunted Dirty Old Green Skin and the Shadow Queen, who likewise cursed him back.

Eventually after much fighting the goblins began to dwindle down in number till around six hundred remained. It was the goblins though that had the slight edge, the orcs own number being cut down to around a mere three hundred. Upon noticing this and sensing a glorious victory, the Shadow Queen and Dirty Old Green Skin spurred on their soldiers with roars of triumph that made the goblins grind their large vicious teeth and snarl at their enemies as the orcs questioned their own leadership as their enemy began advancing upon them.

The Burning Sky however saw things very differently, though he did realise that the orcs were onto a hiding. So as the goblins swarmed about the orcs, their greater number forcing their opponents backwards towards The Burning Sky, he reared up and let out a wide blast of fire that consumed all in front of him, be they goblin or orc alike. The result was devastating to both sides as screams filled the air as sickly green goblin skin and orange orc flesh burned and charred to black. The surviving goblins flocked back to the Shadow Queen, their number now halved. The few panicked orcs that survived also did the same, rushing to their leader but in his anger The Burning Sky smited them down with flashing claws and tearing teeth.

As the chaotic scene in front of them played out, the Shadow Queen, Dirty Old Green Skin and the remaining goblins watched on bemused and horrified as the great red dragon tore up his remaining troops. Then, once the manic rage had left The Burning Sky, he turned his attention back to his shocked enemies who had now gathered themselves and were slowly beginning to advance on him. The remaining goblins swarmed around their beloved Shadow Queen as she purposely slowed her progress, creeping warily towards him. Dirty Old Green Skin however took the other approach, at first stalking like the Shadow Queen, but then his eagerness for the kill took over his thoughts as he suddenly charged the bigger dragon. He had assessed the situation and had come to the conclusion that the big red one was faltering, taking the slaughter of his own soldiers as a sign of weakness on The Burning Skies part. He was wrong!

With the force of two battering rams the two great dragons clashed together. Claws were flung at one another and the enormous and deadly mouths of the two sought one another's neck. The Burning Sky then made a diving attack that left him open to a bite from Dirty Old Green Skin. The big green dragon sunk his teeth into the red dragons back, tearing out a considerable chunk of red scaled flesh and causing him immense pain. However, the reckless attack in which The Burning Sky dove forward with both claws, struck its target and tore into the bottom side of Dirty Old Green Skin. His two clawed attack stripped off a large piece of Dirty Old Green Skin's natural green scaled armour as they raked down the dragons lower side. Next the air around them began to fill with dense green smoke as Dirty Old Green Skin breathed out his deadly breath. The Burning Sky was prepared for this, simply rearing backwards and flapping his great leathery wings to disperse the choking vapour. But what he was not ready for was the strange eerie shadows that crept into his vision, darkening all around him and obscuring his opponent.

It took only a moment for him to realise that the black dragon had worked her magic and had cast a spell causing the bizarre shadowy blindness. With this he turned his head in her general direction and began to mouth his own spell. Instantly the shadows left his eyes like plumes of smoke and darted back like ghostly black smoking phantoms to their creator. Now it was the Shadow Queen who found herself blinded, and by her own magic as well. The Burning Sky had used his superior wizardry to cast a reverse spell and send her enchantment back on itself. And he'd done this just in time, for as soon as the shadows had left his vision he felt the great tail of Dirty Old Green Skin whip across his face, knocking out three of his colossal teeth.

As the Shadow Queen shook her head trying to dislodge her own spell and regain her sight the two great behemoths were left to battle it out. They clawed and bit, wrestled and butted heads, but whereas Dirty Old Green Skin fought with instinct, The Burning Sky had a plan. In his time before encountering Dirty Old Green Skin, he had fought eight other dragons, killing five (with two others fleeing from him before he had time to kill them. Only one had defeated him, when he'd been young and overly ambitious in his quest for treasure and terror. He'd underestimated his opponent, a mighty blue dragon who ruled the great Ujimago Desert sands. In the end he had just escaped with his life, flying off battered and bruised as the air around him sizzled from the great blue ones breath). With this past experience, The Burning Sky knew a thing or two about killing other dragons. He focused as many of his attacks on the patch of scales he'd ripped away from Dirty Old Green Skin, eventually making a bloody hole in his side.

The two began to wrestle once more, biting whenever possible. As they rolled around the giant cave The Burning Sky knew he did not have long before the Shadow Queen recovered her sight and joined the fight. Indeed, as he was thrown down to the stone floor by Dirty Old Green Skin he glimpsed her, the shadows now gone from her eyes as she again slowly advanced once more forward towards them. He had however let Dirty Old Green Skin throw him to the ground purposely, so now the green dragon loomed above him, ready to plunge fiercely down upon him. Before Dirty Old Green Skin could perform this attack, The Burning Sky snaked his long neck out quickly and clamped his jaws onto the bloody hole he'd created in Dirty Old Green Skin's side. As he latched on like a leech about to feed, he breathed out his fire, straight into the innards of Dirty Old Green Skin.

As the Shadow Queen approached the fight, she watched as smoke suddenly began to pore from her lovers mouth as his yellow eyes rolled back so that only the whites showed. Then the several gaping holes in his skin that The burning Sky had caused during their fight began to glow and smoke as well, the occasional flame shooting out from within him. Dirty Old Green Skin was cooked from the inside out and she knew that there was nothing she could do as he let out his final choking roar and fell dead to the ground.

She was almost in biting distance when her lover collapsed lifeless to the ground. This stopped her in her tracks, shocked at the suddenness of his defeat, with the goblins standing likewise behind her as The Burning Sky got back up with the smouldering corpse of his victim at his feet. She knew she had to act quickly. Her first thought was to attack but seeing how the dragon before her had slain Dirty Old Green Skin, a dragon who was much bigger and stronger than herself, she decided that the situation called for a different and more peaceful approach. She prepared herself, standing tall and proud as she addressed the big red dragon in the strange whispery serpent tongue. The goblins stood by her, alert, though some clearly shook in fear as they all wondered what was going on and what trickery or magic their mistress was using to stop the huge red dragon from attacking.

For what seemed like three thousand goblin heartbeats did the two wyrms converse together. At times it seemed to the goblins that a fight would break out as the foreign voices of the two took on tones hostile but then would suddenly calm to a whisper, once more taking on the strange poetic yet unintelligible and unpronounceable words of dragon speak. Then suddenly the Shadow Queen turned around to face the goblins and spoke to them in their language, telling them that the mighty one before them was known as The Burning Sky and that she and he had reached an agreement that the two of them would rule the mines together.

This needed no more explanation to the goblins who had always lived by the rule that the strongest should rule over the weaker. And seeing how The Burning Sky had slain Dirty Old Green Skin it was now his right to take Dirty Old Green Skin's place. Plus they were much relived that the Shadow Queen had persuaded him to join her instead of fighting her, which no doubt would have resulted in much goblin death, if not total defeat for them and their mistress. Some believed that she had cast some form of glamour on the big red dragon, who was now under her spell, willing to be manipulated by her. In this thought they were very wrong for it was The Burning Sky that had fooled the Shadow Queen, worming his own sly spell into her thoughts with his greater fraudulent and mystical talk as he promised her protection from the outside world.

As the goblins settled down, getting on with the task of getting rid of the dead goblins and orcs, plus repairing some of the more substantial damage caused by the great fight, their mistress began to show The Burning Sky around the great mines as she again went back to speaking in dragon tongue. She told him of the mines and the treasure she held. The secrets inside and the things she had witnessed as the magical gaze of The Burning Sky and his deceptive words bore into her thoughts, making her totally relaxed in his presence. The spell began to dissolve any previous thoughts that she had of seeking revenge for her lovers death and throughout her tour she even flirted a little with The Burning Sky, thinking that this great dragon would make a fine replacement to Dirty Old Green Skin. It was at this point that he decided that now was the right time to attack her and finally take the mines and all that came with them for himself.

As they walked the broader corridors of the mines abreast together, he sneakily dropped back slightly before making his first attack. The Shadow Queen talked on, completely unaware of the danger coming until she felt the massive mouth of The Burning Sky and the many dagger sized teeth sink into her right shoulder and rip clean off the wing sprouting from it. Instantly the glamour cast upon her broke and she cried out in agony, her roaring scream echoing all through the mines, a vibrating yelp that tore through every tunnel.

As the huge red dragon spat out her wing she quickly darted forward and turned to face him, ready to put up as much of a fight as she could, though deep down she knew that her chance of winning was very slim indeed. He towered above her, almost twice her size, grinning evilly as he watched the thick yellow blood spout from the terrible wound he'd just dealt her. Running his split tongue around his teeth, tasting her blood, he casually slapped her head away from him as she came in for a bite at his throat. Then she reared up, her chest filling with her acidic breath, preparing to spit the corrosive flem at him. He of course was ready for this as her breath was met by his, fire fighting acid, meeting in a blast of melting green and flaming orange.

For some time the breath weapons of the two cancelled each other out but in the end the fact that The Burning Sky's lungs were just so much bigger meant that it was his fire that kept going as the Shadow Queen's acid ichor finally ran out. The heat hit her hard, though she wisely closed her eyes to stop the flames from permanently blinding her. Still, the fire scorched her face, charring the scales on one side badly before The Burning Sky himself ran out of fire breath. She now hunkered down, forced by the pain until the flames and smoke began to die down around her. This was what The Burning Sky had been waiting for as he leapt forward, landing on the prone black dragon, sinking his four powerful claws into her so that her movement was restricted. As she futilely struggled beneath him, he made ready to deliver the final bite to the back of her head, a move that would snap her neck and snuff out her long life.

The Burning Sky had always ruled tyrannically and with a true hatred for his underlings, torturing and killing any who dared challenge him. It was because of this bullish approach that he thought the Shadow Queen to be the last piece of the puzzle to overcome in his quest to take the Su'Varock mines and lands about them. What he had not counted on was the love that the Shadow Queen's minions had for her. After all, it was she and she alone that had led them out of the sodden Stink Marshes of the South, to here, their new beloved home.

As he opened his mouth to deliver the death blow, a torrent of rocks and spears smashed into him from every side. Although they were not deadly enough to hurt him seriously, they still caused him some pain and confusion as he winced and tried to see what was happening around him, with the deadly bite now suddenly forgotten, though he still held her in his iron grip beneath him as the threat of this new unknown menace loomed. Braving the missiles that bounced off his head he meekly opened his eyes just a slither and looked around. He was surrounded by goblins, with hatred on their faces as they hurled wooden spears and fired rocks from slings. He let out a mighty roar, hoping to frighten away the troublesome pests but still they attacked, their fear of him overwhelmed by the loyalty they had for their queen. Still, he had his fire, now back in his belly and even if the fear he exuded was not enough to scare them off, then the deadly flames would soon quench their valour. As he breathed out his flames there came simultaneously a bite from below, sharp white teeth encased within a black mouth, sinking into the exposed and softer underside of his neck.

Most of the flame erupted from his mouth and a good deal of goblins were burnt to death. However, the Shadow Queen tore away at the red flesh that she'd bit into, causing a large wound. So as The Burning Sky breathed out a scorching blanket of death, lots of the flame spat out sideways from the wound. Even though these flames hit the Shadow Queen in the face, she felt no pain as she realized that now she had a chance to survive, biting again at his neck, attempting to tear out The Burning Sky's throat.

He reacted quickly to her attack, twisting his neck in a snake like fashion to avoid her teeth while blocking out the pain of the goblins projectiles. And for a short time it worked as the two fought, until eventually he wrestled her down so as to control her movements once more. Just as he was about to grab the Shadow Queen's head to stop her from biting him again, did the goblins charge. They swarmed over the Shadow Queen to get at him. Over three hundred ventured forth, some surrounding his huge body while others climbed up his tail and legs, using his huge red scales for foot and handholds, till eventually they stood upon his back, wings and head.

He shook madly, losing control once more of the deadly black dragon beneath him as a combination of over three hundred small swords, spears and axes sought out crevices between his thick scales, causing great (though still mainly superficial) pain. Lots of the goblins died or got seriously injured, thrown from his back or shook from his head and wings to smash down onto the hard stone ground far below them. Others who had stayed on the ground got stamped on as they hacked at his feet, legs and belly, or got flung and bashed aside from the great whipping tail of the enraged beast.

It was however the opportunity that the Shadow Queen needed, her maw found his neck once more, tearing another chunk from it. This bite was not fatal but it was enough for The Burning Sky to know that he was beat as torrents of hot red blood poured from the wound. He tried to run but found that the strength in his legs had sapped away as he released his grip on the Shadow Queen. He fell on his side exhausted and bleeding heavily next to the Shadow Queen who had but moments before been beneath him. She swiftly got to her feet and with deadly accuracy bit once more, taking The Burning Sky by surprise as he tried to regain his footing. This time she latched on to his throat and not having the strength to shake her off she manoeuvred her mouth to where she wanted it, then with one mighty pull she ripped out his gizzard. Even after she knew he was dead did she keep on biting at his neck. Looking back, she was never sure why she did this! Was it anger at her loss or his trickery that had belittled her, a display of power to the remaining goblins to show that their leader was still a force to be reckoned with, perhaps even some terrible fear that the magic he possessed could still somehow resurrect him, but whatever the reason, she kept tearing and ripping until The Burning Sky's head tumbled from his body.

There was no cheer given and no celebration came afterwards as the Shadow Queen and the remaining goblins pondered the damage and loss they'd sustained and what the future held for them now within the mines.

Part 4:

ANARCHY COMES TO SU'VAROCK

Though greatly weakened and in much pain from her injuries, plus suffering great distress and worry from the loss of Dirty Old Green Skin, the Shadow Queen continued her rule of the mines. Her remaining goblins slowly began repairing the damage caused by The Burning Sky and his orcs. This was not easy as the goblins number, now reduced to less than a tenth of what they had originally been before the attack, toiled away tirelessly, knowing that if another assault came from outside then they would surely be done for. It was fortunate for them that only rumours of The Burning sky, the death of Dirty Old Green Skin, and how the mines, still rich in wealth, were now ripe for plunder and being ruled over by but one badly wounded dragon and a few hundred tired and war weary goblins.

The Shadow Queen knew that if the goblins numbers were to recover then they would need several years to breed and grow. This was time she just didn't have. She also knew that if she herself was to recover from her terrible wound then she would have to use her magic to heal herself. She surmised that to heal the torn off wing would take some two to three years to regrow back. The problem here was that she needed all her magic to scry for forthcoming trouble and to cast confusion spells to suggest to outside sneaks (wizards with the ability of scrying themselves) that the mines were still defended and all was well within. She had to opt for one or the other but knew deep down that her own wellbeing under the present circumstances must come second. So she wove her magic as the goblins worked, taking only the shortest of time that she could spare to seal the wound in her back.

Dragon magic for a time was said to be the most powerful kind of magic, easily more powerful than any of the other races gifted with its use. However, a change in magic had occurred that no dragon understood in the form of the use of demons to boost magical power. Wizards, over time, had mastered the art of enslaving minor fiends made from the suffering and loss that the mortal races of this world endured. For the first few centuries of this practice, the increase in power was small but as with all new practices, over time came greater knowledge, and with greater knowledge and higher mastery of wizardry came the power to enslave bigger and nastier demons, till eventually even dragon magic was surpassed. Of course this practice was very dangerous, for if the demon was to escape its enslaver then it would nearly always seek revenge for being belittled by a mere mortal. Revenge that would more than likely result in either the demon being destroyed or the enslaving wizard having his life-force ripped from him and consumed by the unnatural horror he had dared to abuse and imprison.

So certain powers that had all seeing magical abilities that the Shadow Queens had no knowledge of, learnt of the battle with The Burning Sky, knowing full well that the rule of the two dragons was finally over. And over the coming year, cruel whispers from outside began to spread. They talked of a change in the mines, not to all, for such information has a price, so to those who paid the right price for the information, they could learn full well of the current state of the Su'Varock mines and what had gone on for such a major change to occur.

Six months after the coming of The Burning Sky, the first gaggle of adventurers came to plunder the mines. They were slain quickly but did cause some damage, killing a large number of goblins before they themselves were killed. More adventuring types would follow. Sometimes they'd be slain by the Shadow Queen and her goblins before they could steal away with some of her riches. Other times they would carry out a successful expedition, bringing out some form of treasure from the black dragons horde. And every time they came, whether successful or not, they slew goblins, depleting their number even further, eating slowly away at the defenders of the mines.

Most believe that the Shadow Queen knew that it was only a matter of time before her own fate was sealed. She could have fled her kingdom but the pride she had for what she herself had conquered and built upon was perhaps too much for her to give up. In the end it was simply a large group of fairly hardened adventuring types that ended her long sovereignty of the mines. Upon doing so they sought for her riches, being greatly disappointed at the lack of gold and jewels that they found within her lair. They knew more must be within the mines, indeed many wizards had cast magic spells telling of the immense wealth that had been unearthed inside the Su'Varock mountains. It was the Shadow Queens final act of cunning, upon realising she had little time left she ordered every member of her trusted stink-goblins to take with them some of the treasure and to hide it within the mines. And nobody knew the mines like the goblins. Then as the said group of adventuring ruffians cursed fate itself as they stumbled upon the deadly and feared black dragon, only to find the fight within her withered to but a fragment of her former terrible self and left unguarded by her loyal troupe of goblins, they could not believe their luck as they went in for the kill. It took only a moment for their leader, a brave and powerfully built human, wielding a mighty enchanted sword, to spring into action as he dodged passed her bone crunching claws and with one deft lightening thrust, plunge the magically glowing blade into her black heart. But as she died she conjured up just enough strength to at least bite her killer in half, and more importantly, just as death was about to take her, cast her final spell in the form of a bewildering curse that spread itself like a black cobweb across the mines.

Even the great wizards, the most powerful of the new breed that used the worst kind of demons to boost their power, could not decipher her final puzzle. Many wizards still try to magically seek out the scattered treasure but find that the confusion spell that has been cast was far too strong to overcome. For when in suffering, and more importantly in death, magic is at its most powerful. So although she died in a way that did not do justice to the fearsome life she'd led, she at least had some form of revenge. Or at least a retribution that suited her morals and the strange and greedy dragon traditions that all the great wyrms live by.

With news of the Shadow Queens death spreading through lands far and wide, it was now not only adventurers seeking treasure that sought out the mines. Lots of things began to creep and crawl, shlug and shlop, fly and burrow, or even just simply walk into the hollowed out darkness under the mountains. Creatures of all kinds came, mainly seeking safe haven from the rise of bladed steel that was growing constantly in the lands of men that looked to wet their blades with some form of monsters blood.

Part 5:

GARRAK THE HOBGOBLIN

Twenty years after the Shadow Queens death a large group of ogres tried to take control of the mines for themselves. They were semi-successful in that they managed to recruit one of the larger goblin tribes called the "Blooded Bellied Gang" that still lived within the mines, though now the goblins fought amongst themselves, fighting with the other goblin tribes with different beliefs and principles to their own. The ogres, led by their leader "Haronak Of The BigHeed", who was big by even ogre standards, did manage to take over and bring some order back to a quarter or so of the huge sprawling underground maze of tunnels. However, as big and dangerous as a group of bloodthirsty ogres are, they were never the brightest and certainly never the fairest of leaders.

The goblin group who'd been recruited at first with promises of shared wealth and equality, soon found that the more the ogres (supposedly) jointly ruled the mines with them, the more masterful and brutish their behaviour towards the goblins became, with harsh beatings for minor offences being delivered to any goblin slacking in their work. Also, it had been noted by a few goblins that one or two of their number had been going missing and rumours about the ogres eating habits began to spread. Rumours that stated that the bones of goblins, chewed on by large broad teeth, had been found more than once within ogre excrement. This was at first thought to be a bit of a lie by the ones claiming it as goblins do tend to stretch truths and exaggerate stories of things witnessed. However, when more evidence was brought forward as more and more goblins went missing, it was soon found that the bones that some had at first thought to be of some kind of unknown animal within the ogre dung, were indeed that of goblin.

Anger spread fast, but even with the horrible truth revealed to them, an uprising to swart the cruel overlords was not an option at first. Most of the goblins thought that having the goblin eating hulks in charge meant they were still better off than any of the other goblin clans who struggle daily with the horrors of the mines. These goblins wanted to remain loyal to their new masters, knowing that although their treatment would be rough and some of them would be slaughtered for food, the alternative, having to struggle and fight in the mines, always on the alert for dangers prowling, never knowing what misery may suddenly appear, was a much harsher prospect.

This though was mainly the thoughts of the outsider goblins. Goblins that had come into the mines after the death of the Shadow Queen. Those who shared some form of bloodline with the original stink-goblins had a very different mindset altogether. For them, the rule of the ogres had taken that one step too far, for the goblin mentality which normally sought out strong willed leaders was slightly different within stink-goblins. For although a good leader should always be harsh and brutal when dealing with his subjects, they should also posses qualities such as nobleness and fairness towards all faithful underlings. A stink-goblin would always say that if a hard day's work was given, then a fair and just treatment for servitude should be rightly demanded in return.

And to add to all this, amongst those who still possessed some of the stink-goblins heritage, a new type of goblin was beginning to emerge. In very rare cases a goblin was born bigger and stronger, with a greater cunning, who desired to lead their fellow comrades. These were the hobgoblins, a strange gift to goblin kind that ordinary goblins put down to the mighty goblin gods. And as the ogres rule reached twenty two years within the mine, the first hobgoblin born into the "Blooded Bellied Gang" had now reached eight years of age. This was the age when goblins class themselves as adult.

She was called Garrak and so far during her life, seventeen members of her family had died. Although not all of these deaths could be put down to the ogres, by some of the chewed up remains that she herself had found within some of their rotting stinking lairs... some clearly where! These included her father, two grannies, three sisters and five brothers. Two of these brothers and one sister had been from her very own litter that had produced her, six of her brothers and four of her sisters. Though unlike her, these others had just been ordinary goblins.

Now on reaching eight years of age, and as more things were explained to her on how a blind eye should be turned every so often when regarding the ogres, the anger inside her that had boiled within her finally erupted. She knew she was special, and even though she loved most of the goblins within her tribe, she loathed the fact that the majority thought the ogre dominance of them both ordinary and perfectly acceptable. So using her greater intellect and cunning she began to question the goblins in her group about how they felt under the power of the oppressors. She did this in such a way as to not raise suspicions, fearing some of her fellow comrades may well betray her to the ogres who themselves had threatened that anyone spreading the so called "lies" of their eating habits would be put to death on the spot if found guilty.

So far this had happened nine times, with nine brave goblins accused by other goblins to the ogres. The goblin accuses were always the type of goblin that could never be trusted, always seeking to better their position using foul means and never fair. In all nine cases the goblins were found guilty and killed for spreading malicious lies. Also after the death of the said goblin, bones would be found the very next day in the ogre dung and no body would be returned to the deceased family for burial rights.

It took nearly a whole year for Garrack to recruit a group of trustworthy goblins that not only held her beliefs but were brave enough to follow her as she made a stance against their gigantic oppressors. She had even worked out a plan to poison the ogres using Bogwiffer Mushrooms. These were highly poisonous to most races, except that of goblin. The mushrooms caused the consumer to become extremely unwell for a whole day, and out of all the races, it was ogres that were most susceptible to the Bogwiffer poison. Ogres who had eaten of the dreaded mushroom faced weeks of ill health, and in some cases even death. One mystery amongst goblins still hangs over this finding, how did she know this information? Some believe it was the goblin gods granting her divine knowledge but most believed it was simply down to luck that she chose the Bogwiffer to combat the ogres.

The problem she had was getting the ogres to eat the Bogwiffer mushroom. All races (except goblin, who still weren't keen) found the mushrooms fairly disgusting in taste, even if they didn't know of the poisonous after effects. You couldn't even mix them in with other food as the flavour of the Bogwiffer dominated all it corrupted. All that is, except perhaps the flavour of goblin (though again, none of the great minds that had heard of her tale had any explanation of how Garrack could have possibly known this). Plus it was believed that the reason a goblin could eat the Bogwiffer was because of their amazing ability to eat virtually anything, no matter how rotten or poisonous. It was one of the main reasons for the goblin species success, being able to survive on virtually anything whilst other creatures starved to death. There was one thing a goblin would not eat though (at least in most cases) and that was other goblin.

A horrible tale that elder goblins passed down through the ages to their younger kin about cannibalism was well known throughout the Blooded Belly Gang. It told of the reason why no goblin would ever eat one of their own kind, as most goblins presumed the many other races most probably did. It claimed that those who ate of goblin flesh would be cursed with crapsaicin disease that turned the pleasurable taste of food bland and boring. The reason this was thought was that goblin meat was said to be so pungent in flavour that other tastes withered under its magnificence. It was said that the more goblin you ate, the more the curse of the crapsaicin would build up over time till only goblin flesh could be tasted and the pleasures of other foods would die on your tongue.

Now Garrick knew this tale well but her intelligence told her that there was a distinct possibility that the tale had simply come about to stop goblins from feeding on other goblins when hard times approached and food became scarcer. However, she also knew that in a lot of the old tales, some truths occasionally lurked and if her plan didn't work and the ogres detected the sickly mushroom, then at worst a few goblins would get eaten in retaliation. For her, this last part was not a problem, just as long as the conspiracy could not be traced back to its source. So she and her group decided to go ahead with the plan. Now all they needed to find was a sacrificial goblin!

Now some goblins might follow their leader into the most dangerous and deadly of places but no goblin would ever willingly lay down their own life, especially for another goblin (or even a hobgoblin). So none of those she had trusted in her plan came forward to volunteer. This stumped her for a little while but over the next few days a solution quickly presented itself. One of the goblin snitches was rumoured to have heard some information regarding Garrack's plan at a goblin gathering. Whether or not this information was correct did not really matter. In goblin law, a snitch is a snitch, and Garrack and her group could not take the chance that the gossiper accused would not inform the ogres. The question was which of the rumoured snitches had allegedly heard the plan.

In small dark corners of the mine, goblins would gather together to make merry on the rare occasions when they had a slice of free time. In these corners they would drink wine and smoke and eat various plants, giving them a form of release from the slavery that had crept upon them. During these short breaks of pleasure they would sing and tell stories of old. And what is more, they would talk! Sometimes when the wine, food and smoke inside their bodies all mixed together to form a pleasant soup of intoxication, secrets would spill from their mouths. Most of these secrets were little things, who'd been saying what about whom, boasts of stealing, lies of sexual escapades and the like. Sometimes though, a bigger, more important secret, would spill out.

In one such gathering a young goblin called Stoggle let slip that he'd teamed up with a great leader intent on bringing down the cruel goblin eating ogres and although he could not say who this leader was he did (over the course of his drunken and smoke induced gossip) mention the fact that who he followed was a mighty female hobgoblin. And if that was not enough to know who it was for sure, he then, after ingesting more drugs of happiness, mentioned that although he could not tell them her name as he'd been sworn to secrecy, it did rhyme with Larrack, Barrack and Tarrack! For unfortunately, poor young Stoggle, even by goblin standards, was not the brightest and could certainly not hold his booze. However, this wouldn't have been too much of a problem, with most of the goblins thinking he was drunk and simply lying (as most goblins do) and that he was good friends with the strange new goblin that was much bigger and smarter than others of her kind. Unfortunately at that particular gathering the sneak Walgort was attending and listening in on any conversation of interest.

Walgort was not a goblin liked by his kin. He was one of the goblins that snitched to the ogres and many thought him responsible for four of the deaths that had seen goblins turned into ogre dung. Because of his loyalty he was now considered a goblin of privilege, not forced to work in the mines like other goblins or serve the ogre tyrants in some awfully demeaning way. His talent was finding out secrets. Secrets he could tell to his masters. And of course he had protection of a kind, as had been proven in the past when a group of goblins had assassinated one of the other snitches. The ogres having found out that one of their informants had been murdered, quickly began torturing all those who'd been around when the dead goblin had been found. In the end, fourteen goblins suffered horribly until one eventually gave up a name. That day the accused and the accuser were executed, ripped limb from limb by the ogres terrible and deformed leader. The dreaded Haronak Of The BigHeed.

Walgort now had a new lead that some form of treachery was being planned. The young drunken goblin had said that a group of rabble rousers had formed who'd planned to rebel against his masters in some way. This news excited him greatly. If he could pinpoint the ones behind the rebellion then his gigantic leaders would be very pleased and rewards a plenty would soon be heaped upon him. Whether or not there was any truth in what Stoggle had said was not his problem. His job was simply to inform. The ogres would do the rest! What is more, Stoggle had given away the name of the leader of the group. He would report in tomorrow, after he'd rested and his head had stopped throbbing and spinning from all the drink and smoke he'd just consumed.

Late in the day Walgort awoke. His head still throbbed from last night's festivities but a wicked grin also spread across his twisted and snidey face as he remembered what the young goblin had said. As he got ready, eager to inform his masters of the news he'd heard, the door in his small cave was kicked open, breaking the bolt securing it. Then as he stood staring, wondering what was happening, he was grabbed by a dozen or so goblins, forced to the floor, tied up, blindfolded and gagged. Then he felt a bunch of gnarly goblin hands grab him, pick him up and carry him off.

As dim-witted as young Stoggle was, the youth he possessed did mean that the next morning he awoke early for work, though still somewhat groggy and groaning from last night's overindulgent binge. As he prepared himself as best he could for a hard days graft that involved digging out new tunnels in the hope of finding precious metals and stones, he slowly began to recall something of what he might of said from last night's festivities. Then as the thick cloud in between his large pointed green ears began to dissolve, he became pretty sure that he'd let slip some information that he most certainly shouldn't have. He was left with a dilemma. Should he tell the group what words of drunkenness may have escaped from him. After all, he wasn't sure, only fairly certain of what he might have said! In the end he'd thought better of this, not wanting a good hiding for being so careless and stupid! Fortunately though he did tell his best and most trusted friend Gongba, another young goblin and a member of Garrack's group who upon hearing what his worried comrade had to say, did what any other goblin would do and went straight to Garrack to inform on what Stoggle had most probably said. After a few more inquiries by a very concerned Garrack (including a bust nose and fat lip for Stoggle) she soon found out that the snitch Walgort had also attended the gathering and may well have heard of what the young idiot had spouted out whilst intoxicated. She just could not take the chance and decided then and there that Walgort not only had to go but would also serve as the boggwiffer broth sacrifice.

It took half a day to make the amount of broth needed, as the quantity required would have to satisfy twenty large and greedy ogres. Once finished, the broth filled three large black cauldrons that threw steam from their necks and presented a sickly sweet smell that turned all the goblins stomachs who knew of the macabre ingredients within the pots. Next came the presentation problem, plus as the day went on, the ogres were beginning to get suspicious. News had circulated around the goblins that if Walgort did not appear soon then the ogres would make it their business to find out why! There method for finding out information on Walgort would not be a pleasant one! No doubt involving a personal questioning sessions were random goblins would be interrogated until they had an answer to Walgort's whereabouts. And if at any point the ogres felt that the goblin questioned was holding any information back from them, then some bones would be broken until they were satisfied that the goblin was indeed telling the truth, or more information was given.

She realised that time was running out and knew there was a good chance that one of the group could be randomly dragged off at any time into the ogre den to be tortured until the truth eventually came out. She needed to act now and told her goblin followers to fetch the three cauldrons of Boggwiffer broth. She just hoped that the ogres would believe the story she'd planned on telling them. She would have to remain calm and collected, for if the ogres suspected any form of foul play then not only would the broth not get eaten, but she most probably would!

She was brought forward into the ogres fetid stinking den. Large eyes of various horrid colours watched as she approached the biggest and baddest of the lot... The dreaded Haronak Of The BigHeed. He was quite a frightening sight to behold, much bigger than any of the other ogres and with a dreaded reputation. What made him truly terrifying though was his massive bald head. It was as though his head was twice the size it should be for the body it sat upon. His huge eyes, one red, one blue, shone with maliciousness. Below these pools of venom a thick broad broken nose that had been pierced with a large gold ring sat above a thick blue lipped mouth, pushed out by the two protruding yellow tusks at each side that dribbled out thick steaming saliva with a constant trickle that ran down his chin and splashed onto his fat hairy body, matting the thick black hair on his chest.

As Garrick made her address to him, he never took his eyes off her, suspiciously watching her as she spoke calm and collected to the gigantic group gathered around. Inside however she was a bundle of nerves, knowing that one little slip would reveal that tiny chink in her made up story, even though she'd rehearsed it over and over in her head, until the story became bolted in place like a suite of imaginary platemail. She explained that the ogres rule had lasted now for ten years and in celebration of their service to the Blooded Belly Gang the goblins had prepared a special surprise feast of their favourite broth.

She was extremely convincing and almost all the ogres did not spot any error in her delivery. All except one. Haronak Of The BigHeed. Being a leader had taught him that the best liars could perfectly imitate a spoken truth. It was the fact that she remained so calm, even though she was surrounded by a group of the mean vile murderers, who stood over twice her size and could kill her as one swats a fly, that for him was a little suspicious. So when the broth was brought forward, instead of delving in like those around him wanted too, he tilted his colossal head sideways in thought, stopped the proceedings and asked some further questions. His hard stare first bore into her, then into the other goblins as he asked who the goblin was who spoke and why his faithful informant Walgort had not made the speech. He also demanded to know where Walgort was! And for him to be brought forward right now, unless the goblins here wanted to face some very severe consequences.

Garrak remained calm, though her guts spoke out and she feared that at any moment the ogres would hear their rumblings. She was however somewhat prepared for this questioning, having spent the night going through all connotations of bad things that might happen in her head. She then went on to explain that she had spoken this very morning to Walgort, who had appointed her to give the surprise presentation. Then she went on to say that the reason Walgort was not here in person was that last night he'd ate and drank some bad substances that had made him a little "worse for wear" and had been involved in a drunken brawl that had left him bruised and battered (Fighting while drunk was perhaps the one tradition that all of the races shared in).

Haronak Of The BigHeed was still not satisfied with this explanation and demanded that Walgort be brought before him no matter how bad a state he was in. At this, the goblins who watched and followed Garrick began to panic, as their eyes looked at the big steaming cauldrons, knowing that in a way Walgort was already with them! Garrick however remained calm, saying to Haronak that she personally would bring him forth.

A few hundred or so nervous heartbeats passed for the remaining goblins as Garrak left the ogre den before returning, accompanied by another goblin, who swayed uneasily and groaned with each step he took. His face was battered and swollen, with a busted lip, two blackened eyes and bloody nose. Some of the blood and bruising on his face was not his own, having been carefully applied to look as real as possible, so as to hide the features of his face! A lot of the blood though was real, and the swelling of his face, nose and mouth, had clearly happened but a short time ago. As he hobbled forth, all the eyes in the den were upon him. By the way he miserably shuffled forward and by the way he nastily ordered the other goblins out of his way as he made his entrance into the den, did indeed have something of Walgort's manner. Although the act was good, it was not good enough to fool another goblin, but that was not the point!

All the races suffer somewhat in identifying individuals of other races. It was just the way things have always been and unless there was a clear distinctive physical trait that could be identified then it was very hard for one race to tell a different race's individuality. Especially when the "said race" was so different from themselves. And even though Walgort was well known to the ogres, they cared little for his appearance, or indeed for him, only requesting his presence when he had something of interest to tell them. On more than one occasion, some of the ogres had even considered eating him when they'd thought his telltales lacked in imaginative meat! And when you consider that ogres are also one of the stupider races, thinking that anything smaller than themselves would never dare be so bold as to pull off a caper that would bring their mighty masters wrath down upon them, then the plan that Garrack had thought up was actually quite clever. At least quite clever under such circumstances, and very clever when considering the other goblin brains around her. So when poor beat up Stoggle was brought before them, covered in blood, snot, puke and dirt, who then went on to confirm the story told by Garrack in a voice he'd practiced all night, until he'd gotten it to a level were Garrack wouldn't give him another thumping, even the wiser and less trusting Haronak fell for the illusion put in front of him. And with that, a group of very relieved goblins left the ogres to their feast. Now all they had to do was wait!

It was the fetid smell that began to emit from the ogre den that was the first sign that Garrack's plan was well under way. For even though the smell from the ogre den was always bad, this new smell was clearly the smell of some very unwell gigantic tummies. As the goblins made ready to enter into the den, wielding short-swords with rusted blades, they each tied a rag around their nose to prevent the sickening stench from overcoming their senses.

They crept into the dreaded overlords den, their swords drawn ready, just in case some form of hostility was to greet them, though they knew they would stand little chance against the ogres if this turned out to be the case. However, it turned out that their fears were invalid as the huge heaps of groaning bodies that lay haphazardly about the stinking dens floor were pretty much incapable of doing anything. Piles of slimy black ogre dung, mixed with chunky orange ogre vomit, flooded areas of the ground around the moaning distressed ogres. They looked really sick, offering no form of resistance as Garrack, leading from the front, plunged her blade into the nearest ogres eye and up into its tiny brain.

Having witnessed their leaders kill and how easily she spilled the horrid creatures lifeblood, the other goblins went into a frenzy, slicing the rest of their hideous oppressors throats as they lay helpless on the ground. All the ogres died very easily. All except one that is! Haronak Of The BigHeed. His constitution was legendary amongst the ogres. Being the biggest and strongest and certainly the most feared of all the ogres he was never going to let a bit bubbling gut rot get the better of him. He saw the goblins murdering his underlings and managed to somewhat fight off the effects of the poisonous broth. As three goblins rushed forward, each wanting to be the one to snuff out the life of the dreaded leader of their tormentors, he rose to his feet, yelling, snarling and even howling at the tiny ones around him. The first of the three was simply crushed under a great stamping foot. The second managed to slice at his belly before a huge fist flattened him dead into the ground. The third dropped his sword and trembled were he stood, the fear of Haronak's sudden revival sapping the will from both his mind and body. He was scooped up off the ground by one great hand before Haronak threw him up high in the air and as he began to descend downwards was met by the solid huge head of Haronak. This sent his now broken body flying into a wall, the force crushing his skull and ending his life instantly.

The rest of the goblins followed up the attack though they were much more cautious, having witnessed the other three's quick deaths. Standing in front of the huge ogre they began to dart forward when they thought the huge head was not looking in their direction, taking a swipe at Haronak's massive fat legs. It was all they could do, as two more died who misjudged their attack and got kicked by Haronak's huge hairy knarred feet. Another got kicked, though was fortunate as only the senses in his head got stopped and only abrupt unconsciousness was the punishment for his misjudgement.

Even Garrack came close to getting booted as a huge foot whistled passed her head, missing by a goblin nose (which in truth is quite large). Who knows how long the fight would have gone on for before Haronak's great frame finally fell. Perhaps he would have even overcome the goblins in front of him and escaped alive if the fight had continued in this manner. However it was Stoggle who had the foresight to finish the ogre leader and end his dreaded reign. As the fight went on, he had been brave enough to dive between Haronak's flailing feet, risking his life in the process but gaining the advantage of now being behind the big ugly brute as the other goblins kept him busy. Then with a mighty goblin spring he jumped up onto Haronak's back, climbing quickly upwards. At one point Haronak tried to reach behind him to grab the climbing goblin but was interrupted as four other goblins dashed forward to slash their blades at his legs.

Once Stoggle was on the beasts shoulders he drew out his short-sword, quickly whipping the blade around the massive head and then down. Once blade met neck it was simply a case of drawing it sideways and inwards as hard as he could, sending the warm orangey blood cascading down in a waterfall of death. Haronak fell forward... Dead! The other goblins jumping out of the way as his big fat body hit the ground with a loud blubbery SLAP!!! Even in death he killed. His fall crushing the unfortunate goblin he'd but moments before kicked unconscious.

With the ogres dead, the snitches who'd worked for them soon followed their masters into death's cold embrace as the rebel goblins angrily sought the cowards out. None of them were spared the blade and it was not until the last of these malicious goblins lay dead that all the other goblins began to celebrate a great victory. Of course with the ogres gone, word would spread fast through the mine and the goblin group known as the "Blooded Belly Gang" would need to defend themselves if they wanted to remain free from the cruel powers that were much more dominant than themselves. Malevolent minds that lurked both within and outside the Su'Varock mines always waited to exploit any weakness. Garrack would have to be ready!

PART 6:

The Goblins Of The Blooded Belly Gang

In pitch black darkness five goblins sat and feasted on a cold stew of raw rat meat mixed with the juices of various bugs and seasoned with spongo mould that grew in the wet cracks and dry crannies of the mine. It was not a particular favourite food for a goblin belly to be filled with but in times such as these when delicious urguno mushrooms grew scarce, and the tastier meats huddled themselves away into the hard to get places for the coming colds, the rat stew sufficed.

The darkness was not too much of a problem to the goblins, indeed most creatures that lived in the mines had eyes that worked fairly well in the dark. The yearly creeping cold however made things a lot more uncomfortable for them and one or two comments slipped out as the goblins ate their stew of how the chill over the past few days was slowly working its way deeper into the flesh. Then as the talk turned from casual chitchat of everyday life to the recent problems that over the last two months had escalated to dangerous levels, the goblin called Pongut piped up with yet another complaint!

"Blarggghh... This bloody stuffs too cold. Bad for me guts this crap! Now if it was warmed up just a bit then it would..."

"We've been through this twice." Interrupted an annoyed hobgoblin called Drigcok. "No friggin fires! And if I hear one more mention of a fire from anyone of you pig-pokers, I'll slit yer throat!"

Pongut always grumbled about something. Even now he still complained under his breath, even though it had been made perfectly clear to all the goblins by their current leader Drunog that starting a fire (let alone a cooking fire) when orks could be nearby was far too dangerous.

"Don't know why we can't have a fire?" said a big goblin called Nork, who was known to be particularly stupid (even for a goblin). Realising the danger, another goblin called Krim quickly shook his head at Nork while mouthing the words: "Button it you fool!" Nork however didn't understand Krim and gave the other goblin an angry look as he suspected Krim of making fun of him again (which in truth was fairly unlikely, as the last time Krim had made fun of Nork, he had found himself suddenly grabbed and half throttled).

Drigcok would normally get quite angry by the fact that her threat of throat slicing and fire mentioning had gone ignored. And her being a hobgoblin too! Far bigger than the other goblins, and not just in size but in brains as well. However, she knew Nork quite well! Nork always needed that extra explanation, and although he was not a hobgoblin like her, he was unusually big for a goblin (being considerably broader than her, and nearly as tall) and not unused to dishing out a hefty fist to the mouth if his intelligence was ever questioned. Some suspected that Nork was quite possibly not a true goblin, perhaps having some troll blood in him. None of course would ever say this to his face, unless they wanted a fat lip, black eye and a dented skull.

"Don't blame me", Drigcok said with a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders while simultaneously ignoring the squeal from Krim as Nork decided that he was most probably taunting him. "It's what Garrick claims. Reckons the orcs have good snouts. Start a fire and the buggers will sniff you out... Well according to him anyway."

"Garrick's a useless git!", Pongut snarled out, knowing that Drigcok hated Garrick even more than a year's worth of whingeing. "How's he know what an orc can or can't smell? Besides, the orcs know more or less where we are. In my opinion, he's full of troll dung!"

"Completely agree with you there." Drigcok said a little more cheerily as Garrick's name was mentioned with something that she too associated him with... This being troll dung. "He's always claiming something to my dad. Stuff that nobody could possibly know! Nothing but a split tongued lying twat who's thinks he knows it all! That other smell that's appeared recently, the wet furry one that freaks us all out when we catch a whiff of it. He reckons that with a bit more time he'll be able to identify what's making it. And what's worse is that dad falls for it every time! And besides all that, who's going to smell a bloody fire down here?"

This last statement made Pongut give out a false laugh in an attempt to get on Drigcok's better side by showing he understood her. Then he said: "You can't smell nowt clear down here! It all mixes together. All the shit, piss, sweat, blood, rotting flesh, the mouldy air, it all congeals into a dank turgid stink! In fact it stinks worse than the shite that Garrick spews out!"

At this, four of the five goblins burst into laughter. Wiffle however found herself growing more and more annoyed.

"It's not all to do with the smell", Wiffle said, while trying to contain her anger. "It's because orcs see better in light than what we do. Having a fire blazing would help them and hinder us."

"Pah... It's about time my father gave that fool a good old clout! Might even knock some of the shite out of his head. How does that turd-licker know how well an orc can see in..."

"Didn't Drunog kill Garrick's mum?" Wiffle suddenly spat out, interrupting Drigcok while in mid-insult.

The slight note of anger didn't go unnoticed by Drigcok's large pointed green ears. She'd guessed at Wiffle's infatuation for her enemy long ago, noticing the way Wiffle always perked up when Garrick was around. And over these past few weeks it was no secret that the two had been spending a lot of private time in each other's company.

"Yes. My father killed that bitch good! I believe he slew her in The Blood Trial. Beat her to death with his bare fists!" With this last statement Drigcok let out an evil giggle that was soon joined by the three others.

"I heard he stabbed her in the back. Snuck up behind her the night before The Blood Trial and..."

"Watch what you say Wiffy", interrupted Drigcok. "That's my dad you're bloody talking about, not some dirty frigger like you, or one of your other scumbag friends! So I suggest that unless you want a mouth full of loose teeth... Then you button it!"

Although she was a little angry, Wiffle held her tongue back from spitting out the words: "Go frig yourself bitch!" She knew that the much bigger and much superior hobgobliness would most certainly be true to her word, plus it was not the first time that the two had clashed! Three years ago, when Wiffle was nine and Drigcok seven, they had fought over a large black bat that had (unfortunately for it) flown into the lair of the goblins.

Both Wiffle and Drigcok had seen it first, both hurling stones to bring the large beastie down. A stone eventually struck true and the bat (a prized meal to a goblin) crashed down dead to the floor. Then an argument erupted between the pair as of who's stone had made the kill. This argument lead on to fists being thrown and blood being spilt.

Now at this time, Drigcok was around the same size as Wiffle, for it was only in the last year that she had gone through a growth spurt and now stood nearly a head above her. So Wiffle had put up a good fight at the time, biting, punching and kicking, matching all of Drigcok's attacks. However, even though Dricok was younger and considerably smaller than what she was now, the blood of the hobgoblin flowed through her veins and with a well timed and nose cracking headbutt, she sent Wiffle off to sleep, adding a further kick into the unconscious goblins ribs before claiming the bat as winnings for their fight.

Once the tension had died down the conversation reverted back to cold food and the uncomfortable climate. Only Wiffle stayed quiet, eating her stew as the others argued and laughed, content for the time being with her own thoughts. However Pongut, who apart from being a grumbler, decided then and there to add troublemaker to his ever growing list of faults, suddenly spouted out: "Here... Where does that useless sack of shit go to anyways? I bet his would be girlfriend knows where he goes... eh!" This last remark he said with an evil grin and a nod in Wiffle's direction.

Wiffle gave him a glare that made Pongut question whether he had picked the right one in the group to bully. He begin to stutter out something of an apology until he was interrupted by Drigcok. Drigcok was not one to be intimidated by a simple glare (especially from Wiffle) and decided to press Wiffle on Pongut's question.

"Yes indeed. Where does that swine nick off too? Well Wiffle... You're the one the big ugly glugger sweet talks when the drink is rolling round his stinking guts. He must have told you something of his strange wanderings?"

"Hasn't told me! Nor do I want to know come to that. None of my business."

This curt reply was exactly what Drigcok was after and seeking a little sport she added: "I bet he has some other trollop on the side that he goes and visits, eh Wiffy? Probably from another goblin clan... Not one of the more powerful and nobler clans mind you, I'm thinking of one of those clans were they chuck stones at each other's heads for fun... A clan like The Blue Toe Rippers. Yes, I can see him now getting all smoochy and snug with some inbred Blue Toe Ripper lass."

This last remark sent the three other goblins howling with laughter as Wiffle and Drigok gave each other hard hatred filled glares. Then the laughing stopped suddenly as Wiffle gave an out of place smile and said: "Well at least he's not with you! An inbred whore from The Blue Toe Rippers is one thing but even I couldn't forgive him if he sunk down to your salty diseased level."

Of course, this last comment was a big mistake and exactly what Digcok was looking for. Fortunately for Wiffle the other three goblins managed to pull them apart before the bigger hobgobliness caused too much damage to the much smaller goblin. Besides, their long time guarding the main entrance to their nest would soon be up, and the other three didn't want to have to go and explain to Drunog how fighting amongst them had started while on guard duty. Drunog had made it clear several times that while the threat of the orcs hung over them, fighting amongst themselves would only weaken the goblins if the orcs decided to attack. And even if (as in this case) one of the fighters turned out to be his own daughter, he would not go easy on the group. They would no doubt find themselves guarding the entrance for a whole week, without break, and with only tasteless water to drink, no second lair of animal fur to help ward off the chill, and something worse than the cold stew that they currently ate to fill up their guts... and that's if they were lucky! Sometimes the punishments that the old hobgoblin dished out left even the most hardhearted goblin shaking their head in disgust. Drunog was not a goblin to mess with!

No one spoke much after that! Krim tried to strike up a conversation to ease the tension, talking of how some believed that the mighty and dreaded Lord UnGaTeP lurked deep within these very mines, reforming his broken body for another attack on those who lived in the light. It was no good though and Krim gave up when his conversation was met with silence, as a thick awkward atmosphere clung in the air from the two's fracas that made all forms of chatting completely out of the question! Only the grinding of two pairs of sharp angry brown teeth and the occasional munching and gurgling sound of the thick cold stew being consumed could be heard to any ear listening. And unfortunately for the five goblins on guard, one pair of very large pointed and iron pierced ears had listened most intrusively to any word they could catch!

It was an orc called Humpha-Dell-Pok that now closed in on the five goblins, sneaking his way forward as a fight amongst the miserable creatures broke out in front of him. Earlier that day he'd been sent by his leader to spy on them in an attempt to spot a weakness that the orcs could exploit.

It had been a dangerous mission to sneak into the goblin lair but when an opening came he made his move, seizing his chance to bury himself within a mound of earth not too far away from the entrance, when the goblin guard had changed over. This had presented him with the tiniest window of opportunity and as he'd just finished covering himself with muck, he'd heard the next troop of goblins march in to take up their positions. For the briefest of moments he'd feared he'd been spotted and it was not until several pounding heartbeats later that he knew his plan had worked. He now watched them under dirty concealment from a much closer distance, though not knowing he'd buried himself under a carefully constructed pile of dry soil, rotting rags and slimy rat dung, that the miserable creatures used for growing various flavoursome (and occasionally intoxicating) mushrooms. Most other creatures would find the stink of the mound disgusting and unbearable, even the goblins found the smell unpleasant. Fortunately however, orc snouts love pungent smells. For them, the stronger and nastier the better, so for Humpha-Dell-Pok, he found that although he was in an extremely dangerous place, at least it was pleasant!

Once under the covering of dirt he'd kept very still, watching in hatred for a long time as the talking and bickering from the filthy goblins finally spilled over into a fight. Quickly he had seized the opportunity, closing even more ground between him and the unaware squabbling goblins. Now as he found himself within throwing distance, he quietly unearthed part of himself from the mound before pulling his arm back and sending his faithful bone headed axe spinning threw the air at the back of a goblins head. He watched in delight as the axe found flesh and unable to control his excitement he gave out a victorious howl as the blade sunk into the back of a green neck, splitting the skull at its base. He then quickly pulled himself out of the dirt, turned tail and made to run off, hoping to get back to the orc den before the goblins had time to react, eager to boast of his kill to his bloodthirsty kin.

For a brief moment the four goblins stood in shock as their comrade lay dead on the ground. However, being a resident of the Su'Varock mines meant that one knew death only too well and what may have stunned others for a far longer time, shocked the goblins only for the briefest of moments. Certainly they reacted far faster than Humpha-Dell-Pok was expecting. As he ran, he had to cut short his occasional gaze of glory, where he stopped after every so many loping strides to look back over his shoulder to gloat. This stopping he realised was a mistake as the goblins quickly spotted him and with anger and revenge filling their thoughts they instantly gave chase, drawing daggers and slings to fire at the fleeing assassin.

Although he was nearly twice their size and far faster, the crudely positioned rubble that lay all around the entrance had actually been placed there carefully and purposely by goblin hands for just so an attack. The piles of rubble slowed down his escape enough for the goblins (who knew the ground well) to catch up just enough to hurl and fire their weapons. A stone from one sling caught Humpha-Dell-Pok on the back of his thigh, another just missed its target, though it still clipped the top of his right ear. Then as he ran limping in panic, seeking the tunnels that led him out of the lair, a small rusty dagger buried itself into his back. Humpha-Dell-Pok fell to the ground, squirming in agony before the four vicious goblins caught up to him, slicing and stabbing with their small blades, kicking and spitting at him as his blue blood began to pour out of an ever increasing number of splits in his mottled orange and blue skin, ending his life in a bloodstorm of violence.

Once the orc was dead the silence that had enveloped them before was now broken in two as panic set in. First they hunted around for more orcs, fearing wrongly that more had hid themselves in every place that could conceal their bulk. Once they were assured that no more of the horrible creatures lurked near their home, a new fear set in. They all knew that they would have a lot of explaining to do to Drunog of how an orc had managed to sneak up and kill one of them when the five where supposed to be on guard duty. They fast decided amongst themselves that the only way out of the whole horrid mess was to use an old goblin tactic... Lie through the teeth!!!

PART 7:

Treasures In The Dark

From leaving the goblin nest earlier that day, he'd travelled through two miles of maze strewn twisted corridors and strange hewn caves, carved by iron and muscle, and in the latter case by times ever biting teeth. He'd passed through two secret doors of the highest quality that could fool the eye of most master thieves, leading to a long running corridor that twisted and snaked until stopping at a large circular room. The room had smooth gray stone walls, pockmarked all over with small needle-like holes. The floor of the room was polished black marble that reflected anything placed upon or above it, though only one thing did stand on its surface. Ominously in the middle of this floor, was a large full suit of silver plate-mail, holding a huge two-handed sword, resting the swords tip on the floor and whose handle came up to the bottom of the armours helmeted chin. To gain entry into this room, you would have to pass through a large stone archway with lettering carved into the gray stone saying: "DO NOT ENTER UNLESS YOU WISH DEATH!" This lettering covered the archway, repeating those same words in many different languages. The archway was blocked off by an invisible magical barrier that had to be deactivated by saying the correct words. Those who didn't know the words would have to break through the magic (which could take several hard blows before the invisible shielding was gone). Unknown though to those breaking into the room, this invisible barrier had been purposely constructed so that those wanting to break in could. For once an unwelcome guest made it into the room, then the real problems would start!

The armour stood stock still as if a statue, facing the entrance of the corridor. Those with a keen eye would note that there was nothing physical outside holding it up, nor was there any being within wearing the metal to keep it from falling to the ground. For anyone who managed to chance upon this room, they might think the armour a mere illusion to frighten them away. Though if they studied the armour closely they would notice the ghostly reflection clearly in the floor, giving away that this was indeed no fantasy. The thing within the armour that kept it all together had no mind, no body, no feelings. An invisible force as old as time itself dwelled within the armour. The force of pure chaos.

It had been created by The Shadow Queen's final spell. One of the several guardians that would be a penultimate deterrent in guarding this part of her treasure. For if anything was to step into the room without speaking the password first to the armour, then the armour would suddenly spring to life in a frenzy of madness, screaming an unnerving inhuman wail at the trespassers, then charging towards the intruders at a frightening pace, attempting to slice him or her to bits with the great sword that it wielded as if it had no weight to it. To add to this horror, the invisible barrier would again materialise (only four times stronger than before) and block the exit. This would mean that those stupid enough to step foot into the room would have to face the knight of chaos. An almost impossible task as no heart beat inside the metal skin, and no blood flowed beneath. The only chance a trespasser would have would be to totally destroy the armour or to run back to the archway, avoiding the hacks and slashes from the mighty blade. And even then they would have to know yet another password or hack and slash for a good long time to break through the invisible barrier.

At the other end of this room was a red oaken door, but this door was also magically locked and another password would have to be said before it was opened. If this password was not uttered before the great door's handle was turned then the door would lock tight and a yellow gas would be realised into the room from the tiny holes in the walls. This gas was said to have been made from The Shadow Queens last breath as those exposed to it would find their own flesh slowly melting as it caressed across their skin.

Of course he knew all this from his mother, who had been diligent in getting him to know both the passwords that needed to be spoken correctly to enter passed the knight and through the red door. His mother had taught him well and over the years he'd made the trip from the Blooded Belly Gang's nest regularly to this spot to admire and study, for behind the red door great treasures lay.

Like his mother, his name too was Garrick, though he pronounced and spelt the name slightly differently to give it a more masculine feel. He sat now in a huge open room with five large piles of golden coins laid in one corner. Intermingled with these coins were jewels and expensive looking trinkets. There was enough gold and basic treasure to make a party of those dreadful outsiders very rich if they were to ever find out about this place. And even he (a hobgoblin of the Blooded Belly Gang) could use it and the greedy influence it bought to overthrow the current leader Drunog and himself become the leader of the Blooded Belly Gang. But his mother had warned him of the danger of taking even a single gold coin from this room. Powerful magic guarded it and one step outside the red door with any part of the treasure would ultimately be met by the blade of the knights sword as the hissing sound of flesh eating gas poured out to greet the would-be thief. The gold however was a mere shadow of wealth when compared to the other treasures within the room.

Large dragon bones (the wing that The Burning Sky bit off from The Shadow Queen, part of her skull that had not been destroyed during her vicious death, some of The Burning Sky's backbone and ribs, Dirty Old One Eye's tail and a few of his teeth) and pieces of all three of the dragons scaled skins adorned another corner of the room. These bones and skin were well sought after by magicians and alchemists seeking to make dark magic or powerful potions, and their rarity made them far more precious than the golden piles about them. However, even these paled in comparison to the two final treasures.

The second of these was the scrying globe that The Shadow Queen used to see events throughout the world and threats to her rule. It was a large milky glass globe around the same size as Garrick's head. Unlike The Shadow Queen, Garrick was no magician and many a night he'd spent gazing into it in the hope of seeing something of interest. But being unable to control the magic eye, when he did perchance see something, was always random, though also usually quite bewildering. Indeed over the last few years he'd seen many strange lands, had been bewildered by the sight of great cities that the outsiders built in the light, seen into the depths of seas and witnessed some of the gigantic horrors that swam them. He'd gazed into dense jungles and forests and seen many fantastic creatures, creatures such as a glowing white horse with a golden horn on its head, a large ferocious lion with bat like wings and a scorpion tail that shot out spikes of metal, huge one eyed giants that dwarfed all those around them, these were just some of the wonders he'd seen as he'd gazed into the magical globe.

Then one time, only two months from now, the all seeing eye took him into somewhere dark and deep, inside a land unknown to him, a place where something wicked lived. He'd gazed upon a thing created by the minds of the outsiders, the humans, elves, dwarfs, halflings and the like, a thing that was growing slowly, made flesh from the suffering and death of a recent mass mortal tragedy. He'd been amazed at this discovery and gleefully studied in voyeuristic bliss the strange horror as it took shape until it had finally sensed him too, and then stared right back! Since that day when his eyes had met those of the demon, he had not glanced back into the magic-ball... and had no intention of doing so ever again!

The final treasure was perhaps the greatest here. Certainly his dead mother who'd taught him of all she knew of the treasures thought so, and he too had found the large brown book (with the strange DMG initials on the cover) fascinating and indispensible over the last few years that he'd taken over from her watch. The book was only partially unwritten. In fact it would always remain unwritten, though constantly changing and updating itself, and at various times he'd noted that certain written pieces within the book had been replaced by a more detailed description or even vanished completely. For the book was made of the purest of all magics, constantly writing and re-writing itself on anything and everything of importance that was ever written by hand, claw, tentacle...etc.

His favourite pastime was to study the many fantastic creatures that the book detailed. The many types of huge and unusual beasts that roamed the lands, terrible monstrosities that had no explanation of how they had come to be! Most of these strange creatures were unknown to him but one or two he had encountered or had heard tale of within Su'Varock. It even detailed the many different races and the strange ways in which they thought and lived. The bizarre customs of the outside races baffled him and at times made him scratch his head in bewilderment at some of the questionable activities that those who lived by daylight got up to.

He found the section on his own race truly fascinating, though it only surmised on the reason why hobgoblins had suddenly appeared within goblin litters. It talked of them being bigger, stronger and smarter than their lesser kin and some believed that this was a natural progression and that perhaps all the other races would (through time) eventually grow better in some shape or form. To Garrick it did seem plausible and a far better explanation than the current goblin theory. This theory stated that it was all down to the powerful Goblin Gods who were annoyed at the fact that so many of their creations were dying at the hands of lesser races. So to combat this they had decided to make bigger and better goblins. Garrick had never been one for Gods, in fact he doubted their very existence altogether, believing that they were simply a creation to keep all races of intelligence under some form of control!

One of the strangest and most interesting facts that the book detailed was the origins of one of the races that lived topside, the race known commonly as human. The book told of how these strange creatures arrived some three thousand years ago, flying through the black emptiness in an incredible silver ship that could take them from world to world. Not much else is known from those dark ages and virtually all the human artefacts that crashed down that day were lost. It reported that from the thousands onboard, only a few hundred survived the earth splitting crash.

None of the humans knew why their ship failed as it sailed towards the new world, but the book surmised a reason that was hard to argue with. This reason (as the book explains) was that the world from which the humans originated was a world and civilisation built from science. A world were logic, reason and proof ruled supreme. However not all worlds are the same, the magical laws that governed some worlds were not something the humans had ever thought possible, believing all worlds like their own, so when they encountered this world in there flying ship, the laws of magic bit hard into the cold steel that made it fly, tore away the pulsing electrical wires that fed its mechanical heart and twisted the frame that formed its skeleton. Till in the end, the science that powered it was rendered useless as this worlds own laws brought the alien monstrosity crashing down onto its surface.

The survivors were helpless, stranded on an vicious alien world. They should have perished then and there. However, the other races who lived by the light of the five suns, these being the dwarfs, the elves and the halflings, all helped the humans, giving them shelter and protection, and since that day a new power has spread across the lands. For the humans bred fast (nearly as fast as goblins, though unlike goblins their young were stronger and survived great hardships. Not even magic could slow down their progress) like some form of incurable disease that would not stop until it had totally taken over and destroyed anything and everything that stood in its glutinous way. This world had felt the human hunger for growth and the book noted that many creatures from foreign lands were now at risk, being forced to flee into places dark and deep to evade the steel and the tainted magic that the alien things called humans fought with. What really worried Garrick however was that somewhere out there, a world existed were magic did not, run by the humans, those strange alien outsiders that sought always to conquer and grow, without a care for anyone or anything that thought differently to themselves. A truly terrible world to envisage!

As he flicked through the book, looking constantly for any new writing, he would occasionally pause at places in the book where his mother had made her own notes or highlighted some part of interest (a practice that he too now shared). He particularly liked the section on mushrooms and how it detailed the many various types. He'd always break out into an uncontainable smile when he turned to the part detailing the Bogwiffer mushroom. He'd always let his finger follow the red mark made by his mother that highlighted the Bogwiffer title and dreamt back to the days when as a young goblin his mother would tell him the story of how she overcame the fearsome Ogres and their mighty terrifying leader.

The book even told of the Su'Varock mines and their history, and he'd been filled with pride when he'd first read of how it explained that the Shadow Queen had hidden her treasures during her death. Telling of how she'd left several trusted goblin lineages to guard the many hidden riches. For example, it spoke of how the scrying globe had not originally been part of the treasure of this chamber but of another chamber that contained some of the Shadow Queen's wealth, and had been rescued by Malltok (Garrick's great great grandfather) who'd acquired the treasure, along with some gold and jewels that he'd managed to carry back from a dangerous expedition he'd singlehandedly undertaken. Malltok had been the second goblin guardian of the room that Garrick was in (the first being Malltok's mother). The scrying globe had originally been guarded by another goblin from the now extinct "Stuffed Ear Gang" in a different part of the mines. This tribe of goblins had been wiped out by a collapse of rock that totally destroyed them and their nest, killing too the goblin who guarded the scrying eye with it. (The book gave a slight mention of the terrible noise of the collapse and how many of the denizens of that part of the mine had fled on hearing the earth starting to groan. The "Stuffed Ear Gang" however had not fled, and it was because of this that all had been wiped out. They were called the Stuffed Ear Gang because they held a strange tradition of anointing newborn goblins into the tribe by filling their ears with hot wax from a special candle said to have been blessed by Moffo The Idiot, one of the many goblin Gods that these particular goblins believed in.)

The book told of how Malltok had snuck his way passed many dangers and into the part of the mines were the treasure lay hidden. Indeed it had been the book itself that had set Malltok on this very quest, drawing him a map that showed him were to go and describing the traps set to catch the unwary out and how to get passed them so that the eye could be obtained.

However, today was not all about pleasure and searching for new facts. Nor was today about exercising, as Garrick loved to spend some of his spare time practicing the many and varied martial-arts detailed within the book. Today he wanted to again reread the section that the book had on orcs, and the weaknesses known within their race. In truth there was little to tell, the orcs being bigger and much stronger than goblins, though from the books accounts they were also fairly stupid (though Garrick noted that the books description of goblin intelligence was not much better). It also told of how the orcs lived in similar environments as goblins but lived very differently, treating their females badly, unlike goblins who classed both sexes as equal. It stated that orcs particularly enjoyed eating uncooked rotten meat and took great pleasure in owning and torturing slaves of all races (even other orcs from other rival tribes). One thing the orcs did have in common with goblins was that over many thousands of uncountable years, a lot had died to the deadly steel blades of hardened topsiders.

It then went on to note quite a few disturbing facts that a lot of the races believed that orcs partook in. Crude hygiene that involved cleaning their teeth with their own excrement! Their odd diet and how they would digest some of their own excrement to help it go down! The bizarre sexual activities that involved them smearing themselves in their own excrement and how they would eat the first born of a litter of babies that numbered over three (Garrick also noted that this claim had unrightly been stated about goblins as well... Though at least in the goblin case it didn't state that when the babies were consumed they were first basted in shit!). There was one interesting fact though, one weakness that the orcs shared with virtually all other races, however it was noted that with orcs it was perhaps even greater. The book rightly claimed that an orcs big weakness was their love for booze! No matter what form it came in, be it beer, whisky, stout, gin, rum...etc, the orcs would down it! Another thing though that the book did note was that the average orc could drink a hell of a lot. It claimed that some orcs could drink over twice the amount of most other races similar in size to themselves and if booze was available then they would not stop until they'd either passed out drunk, or the drink had run dry. Many an adventuring type had used this tactic in dealing with orcs according to the book. This last piece of information was what Garrick wanted to confirm, for if the problem they were currently facing with the big ugly orcs was to be finally dealt with, then at least the knowledge of this one weakness could be exploited in some way. The question though was how!

PART 8:

A Stupidly Rushed Plan

As Garrick approached the entrance to the Blooded belly Gang's home he knew something was wrong. There was a faint smell of orc in the air mixed with blood, and from the ten goblin guards who watched his approach (double the amount that usually stood guard) he could sense their nervousness and their eyes searching behind him as he made his way forward through the mushroom fields.

"How do, you filthy bunch of troll breeders", he said with a big grin as he approached the other goblins. "Owt happened since I've been gone?"

"Anything happened", said a goblin called Shrugbit who had been put in charge due to her being the cleverest and bravest of the ten. "Anything bloody happened, well now, let's see now. A few hours ago an orc attacked and killed one of the guards on duty so that now everyone is in a mad panic fearing that another friggin attack from the big dumb brutes might happen at any second. Apart from that though, not much has happened since you've been away enjoying yourself."

The words that Shrugbit spoke struck Garrick like a fist to the chops. His only thought now was of Wiffle. She'd been on guard duty before this scummy lot had taken over, what if she was the one the orc had killed. For a moment he stood in panic, eyes wide and mouth agape as he thought of her. The two had been keeping their fondness for each other quiet, though he also knew that all of the goblins knew something was up with the pair. They'd been caught on more than one occasion in compromising situations and goblin gossip is not something that can ever be quenched. He had to know though, and without a second thought he shouted out: "Wiffle... Where's Wiffle?"

Shrugbit gave a big toothy grin as she sensed the panic in Garrick's voice. For a brief moment she considered having herself some sport by winding him up in front of the others, but seeing as he outranked her (and in truth, as goblins go, Shrugbit was of a fairly decent sort... unlike most of the goblins of The Blooded Belly Gang. She also despised taking orders from Drigcok, who bossed her about, much preferring the more reasonable and considerate Garrick) she responded with: "Calm yourself, calm down there my lad. Wiffle's fine. It wasn't her who got bit by the orcs axe."

Evil snickers seeped from some of the goblins as Garrick (forgetting himself for a moment) gave out a deep sigh of relief. He noted the tittering at his actions and instantly gave a vicious glare to the group. Instantly the mocking laughter stopped as Shrugbit continued saying: "Poor Krim was the one that got his head split."

Garrick nodded to her, then asked: "And the orc?"

"Dead."

Garrick nodded and gave a slight smile towards Shrugbit as he made his way through the main entrance.

"By the way", said Shrugbit as he passed by her. "Drunog wants to speak with you. Says he has a crafty plan forming in his head."

"Plan?"

"That's all I know. Told me to tell you to go straight to him. Wants to discuss it with you... By the thirty seven nipples of Frohmag (the goblin Goddess of fertility) I hope it's nothing like his last one!"

Garrick shook his head as he remembered how Drunog had ordered an attack on a resting group of outsiders who were exploring the mines, no doubt in search of treasures. It had been noted by the goblin sent to spy on them that the outsiders looked as if they had recently seen some form of combat and an attack on them may prove fruitful. He had been ordered to lead the assault, commanding twenty two goblins (one being Shrugbit) and had found themselves facing a very powerful group of opponents (even if they were a little beat up). Thirteen goblins died that day, while only two of the seven outsiders fell. It would have been all twenty two goblins if Garrick had decided to fight on. However Garrick knew that the mighty glowing blades and the dark magic that the outsiders possessed was far too great for his humble squad to overcome, deciding to flee before any more goblin lives were lost.

He didn't go straight to Drunog as he'd been ordered, instead he hunted out Wiffle, who hugged him and gave him the details of how the orc had snuck up on her and the rest of the goblins on guard. He knew he was taking something of a risk ignoring the old hobgoblin leader but he just had to see her. Besides, he figured that if the old git was so desperate to chat with him then the plan that Shrugbit mentioned was probably worth postponing for as long as possible.

Wiffle told him how she and the others had made a pact not to tell Drunog of how she'd been fighting with Drigcok at the time the orc had attacked them. Garrick had found the tale quite amusing and Wiffle had sensed his relief when he'd told her of how at first he'd thought the worst, fearing that she may have been the one to have fallen. As he left her he made a quick joke about how unfortunate it was that Krim had died (even though neither of the two particularly liked him) and that the orc must have either been completely bozz-eyed or totally stupid not to toss his axe at Drigcok's big fat ugly head!

Garrick found the stout old hobgoblin in his personal cave, sat in an old wooden rocking-chair, drumming his overgrown clawed fingers on his knees and staring up in thought.

"Ho there Drunog. I heard you wanted to see me and came as fast as possible."

Drunog put a finger to his lips to silence Garrick, his eyes not moving as he continued to stare at the rock ceiling. This was not unusual and Garrick had on many occasion been silenced by the old hobgoblin in such a manner. Of course he knew it was all an act by Drunog, who was simply pretending to look intelligent, but Garrick had spent too long in his company to know that the intelligence between those two pointed green ears was anything but special! However, he also knew that if Drunog was acting in this manner then he had some scheme already dreamt up, and it was this that worried Garrick!

"You've heard about the orc?" Drunog said after several heartbeats of awkward silence.

"Ah yes. Poor Krim. I hear he got axed in the head by the dirty rotten bastard. Bloody orcs, coming in here and thinking they own the..."

"Death is death", said Drunog, interrupting Garrick with a blatantly obvious statement. "But from Krim's death comes my inspiration. An inspiration that will lead us to a great victory."

At this statement Garrick pretended to look quizzical and interested, but on the inside he groaned. He had no clue as to what Drunog was waffling on about but knew that the old hobgoblin was purposely being obscure as to invite questioning from him. So with a false smile he asked: "You have a plan?"

Drunog didn't answer the question, instead he looked down from the ceiling to Garrick and asked: "You told me before that the orcs like their booze? So much so that they'd go to foolish lengths just for a quick snifter for some diry old grog. Correct?"

"Ay that be true", Garrick responded, though he was somewhat surprised the old git remembered what he'd said some time ago to him, and the fact that only a few hours ago he'd just reread the passage in the magical book.

"Good good good. That's just what I wanted to hear", said Drunog giving a big smile and tapping his clawed nails on his large brown teeth.

"You see, I have a plan to get those bastards back. Wipe them out completely if all goes well, and what's more Krim will have his revenge."

"Krim's dead."

"Dead but useful."

"Useful in what way?"

"In a useful one." The old goblin tapped his head as if to show that he had some cunning plan dreamed up. Garrick knew that any further questioning from him may result in the daft old tart continuing his game of being annoyingly elusive, so instead of playing into Drunog's pitted hands, he stayed quiet. After several moments of silence, he took some small joy as the old hobgoblin realised that he wasn't going to get pressed any further as his hairy eyebrows knotted in mild frustration.

"My plan Garrick, like all the best plans, is so very very simple. All we have to do is get them drunk and then slay them as they roll about. Ah ha... I hear you say (Garrick had actually said nothing) but how by the copper coloured whiskers of Brindorag The Swine (the goblin God of theft, lies, debauchery, assassination, swearing, and various other goblin laws) do you plan on doing that? After all, we can't just walk into the orc den and offer them booze can we! Or can we?"

Drunog now bounced in his chair, the excitement of revealing the plan to Garrick had tickled the old hobgoblin's limbs so much that keeping still was impossible. Garrick however felt very differently. No joy filled him, and from past experiences when one of Drunog's plans had been put into action, the results had always been disastrous in some way or another. What he really wanted was to tell the old fool that the chance of him coming up with a plan of tricking the cunning (though in truth, fairly stupid) orcs, in such a short space of time and without discussing it first as a possible idea, was virtually the same chance he had of slaying a huge horrible troll whilst using only a tiny wooden toothpick as a weapon.

"However, I'm jumping ahead of myself. Your first question no doubt will be where are we going to get the booze from? Well, this part is probably going to piss off a few of the pickleheads in here as we'll need to gather every drop within our home. Everyone must give all. And that includes even me! You see Garrick, I have, over the years mind you, collected a large treasure of wines, beers and whiskies."

Like every other goblin in The Blooded Belly Gang, Garrick knew full well of how Drunog, along with his despised daughter, took more than their fair share of booze that the goblins made. This excess would be used in times of need, when a batch of beer turned sour and Drunog and Drigcok could then charge extortionate prices for the happy water in their possession. And because Drunog was in charge, leader of The Blooded Belly Gang, no one ever questioned him. This annoyed Garrick greatly as he was second in charge and felt that he too should have been in on the scam as well!

"I think I see where you're going with this", Garrick said. "You plan on poisoning the drink. However, an orc nose can sniff out most toxins, and even if they were to down a poison, the constitution of those arseholes would probably get them through it with nothing more than a case of waking up the next day with a sore head and the shits!"

Drunog gritted his teeth and shook his head in frustration, crying out: "No no no no no no no... And I know poisonings no good. I've fought orcs before I came here you young frigwit. I've seen those dirty buggers eat rotten shit and drink putrid piss... Poison plays no part in me plan! No, I simply want to get them pissed up. Anyway, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted, you're probably thinking that it's one thing to have the booze, but getting it to the orcs without them sensing some form of skulduggery is nigh on impossible. After all, if we were to just leave it outside their den then they'd no doubt suspect something suspicious. That said, they'd probably still drink it! They're shitheads after all, but they'd be a lot more careful."

The old hobgoblin then took a deep breath, shaking off the rant he'd just given from his thoughts, then once more composing himself so he could continue with the explanation of his plan.

"This is where Krim will play a vital part. You see Garrick, we know Krim was killed here yes?"

"Erm... Yes!"

"Correct. But do the orcs know?"

"Well no but..."

"But but but... but nothing! And the orcs will never know. You see my plan is to take several barrels of strong booze, along with the dead body of Krim, down near the entrance to the orc den. Not too close mind you, we don't want to alert those wretched sods too soon. No we must execute care, make it look as though Krim has been killed just outside their home. And when I say we, I mean you and me."

The old goblin stopped his chat suddenly and gave a big toothy grin and a nod to Garrick, inviting questioning. This time Garrick followed the older hobgoblins methods, his brain whizzing in thought as it scrambled for some way he could convince the old fool to give his plan (for even though he had not heard it all, he presumed the rest would get even worse) some more thought.

"Me and you, carry the booze and Krim down to the orc den. It's too dangerous, I mean what if..."

"Not just you and me, you silly sod." Drunog said with a chuckle as he sensed some panic in Garrick's tone. "We'll take with us a good few of the lads. Recruit our best fighters and our sneakiest snoopers, arm them with our best bloodspillers, throatcutters and disembowlers. They'll do the heavy work. Besides we're the brains of the operation. Me the leader of our gang and you my trusted lieutenant, we can't be expected to hog around corpses and booze! No, we'll direct the boys. Make sure they make no noise and follow my plan to the letter. Lesser goblins need it. Leadership that is. Without my guidance even the likes of you is bound to fuck up!"

"So let me get this right", said Garrick. "You plan to take a bunch of us into a dangerous part of the mine, were not only the orcs rule but also a thousand other kinds of nasties might lurk, while simultaneously dragging a smelly dead goblin and several large barrels of reeking booze with us? Listen to me Drunog, we need to think this through some more!"

Drunog scratched his hairy chin in some thought as he contemplated Garrick's words.

"Actually you make a good point there Garrick."

Garrick gave a silent sigh of relief. This was not the first time that Drunog had come up with a scat-brained plan when something had gone wrong. The last time had only been several months ago, just before the orcs had moved in and started causing problems for The Blooded Belly Gang. A goblin called Triok had been slain by something unknown within the mines. He'd been on patrol the night before and when he failed to return home a group was sent out to look for him, but only his remains were found, these being an orange bloody stain on the floor, some smelly raggy pants, plus his small bone club and wooden musical flute. Many had warned Triok not to play his flute while out patrolling, but Garrick recalled how Triok was never the brightest, always tooting on the annoying bloody thing as he wandered about instead of paying attention to possible lurking dangers. He'd even received the odd beating (including a clip round the ear from Garrick himself) and had his flute crushed by an angry goblin on more than one occasion. But he'd always carve himself a new one, and before you knew it, the horrible high pitched whistling would be filling the eerie corridors of the mines once more.

The goblins could only guess at what happened to Triok, and though nearly all were in fact glad he was gone, rumours began to spread of how he'd died, until minds began to twist, teeth began to chatter and claws were bit down to the nub as every unknown noise became some goblin eating monster stalking The Blooded Belly Gang. It was this mass panic (which in truth goblins always do, though never for long) which caused Drunog to come up with the plan of making lots of hideous carvings, scrawlings and many abusive messages all around the entrance of the lair, challenging anyone to enter into their nest.

And so it was that for several weeks the well hidden den of The Blooded Belly Gang was signposted for all the wandering monstrosities within the mine to see. And worse still, the other goblin tribes who lived not too far away and competed with them, took great pleasure in telling all who'd care to bend an ear of what silly arses the Blooded Bellies had become!

Garrick knew that to criticise Drunog's plan in anything less than a complementary way would only make the old hobgoblin more stubborn about seeing his idea through. But as he was just about to say that the plan was a good one, though he felt it still needed some work, even though he actually thought it ridiculous, figuring that as long as he could keep Drunog chatting then he may be able to persuade him on some other form of action towards the orcs. His hopes for this were dashed suddenly when Drunog jumped up out of his chair, clicked his fingers then slapped one thigh, shouting out to no one in particular: "I've got it. We'll mask the smell. Simple."

"What?", asked a once again worried and slightly confused Garrick.

"The smell, the stink... You know of the booze and Krim. Rotten flesh and drink attracting unwanted noses. But we can cover it up."

"How?"

"Come on Garrick. I know you've always been a bit dim-witted but even a fuckwit like you knows about shit!"

"Shit?"

"Yes my young foolish friend... Shit! The odour of it wafts through the mines constantly. Most common smell down here and we can cover ourselves in it. I know it's a bit on the stinky side but if it means that we can fool those inbred baby eaters then why the fuck not!"

For a moment Garrick was lost for words as he stared at Drunog's great grinning face. "I still don't understand", he said as a knot of tension slowly twisted up in his insides. "How is taking Krim and a large amount of drink going to..."

"What we'll do is this", said Drunog, cutting Garrick off mid sentence. "Once we've carried Krim and the booze to somewhere near the orc den, making sure we don't venture too close to alert them, then we'll lay Krim and the drink down. We'll have to be careful at this point as we'll have to make it look like a bit of commotion has started, some sort of fight has broken out. I reckon that if we ruff up the ground a bit, drop the odd blooded weapon, splatter some blood about, perhaps even stick a dagger or two in Krim, well... that should do the trick. Then once the scene is set, we'll start to make a noise like a fight has broken out. We'll make it loud enough so that the orcs will hear it within their quarters. Now orcs are cowards and extremely thick, even you know that. So it might take some time but eventually they'll come out of their diseased fleapit to investigate. And that's when they'll find a dead goblin and several barrels full of booze."

"These orcs are said to have a shaman with them. Who knows what magic it can work", Garrick spat out in an attempt to think of something to somehow alter Drunog's plan.

"Pah... Orc magic is pathetic. And as for their shamans, those head wearing fools don't frighten me. Don't worry so Garrick, my plan is a good one that offers us a solution to a problem that will only grow and fester if we don't do something about it fast! You know, I've been around a long time, even lived topside for a bit, though I didn't like it. All that light and noise! You don't think someone like me gets to be the head of The Blooded Belly Gang out of pure luck do you? No, I've got the brains, and I've also got the brawn to back up the brains should they fail me."

At this point Garrick was so mad that he nearly spat out the fact that the only reason Drunog had become the head of the Blooded Belly Gang was that he'd been the one who'd stabbed Garrick's mother in the back, and in the process, claim her leadership of The Blooded Belly Gang. Not that Garrick was too bothered by this fact, as most other intelligent races might be. For even though in goblin belief it is looked on as cowardly to kill another goblin without a good reason, Garrick had been informed by his own father that Drunog (who'd arrived a year earlier and had weaselled his way up through the ranks until he'd become her second in charge) had issued a challenge the day before he'd killed Garrick's mother.

Goblin law states that once a goblin challenges another then either can use whatever means necessary to spill the others blood before the two trials begin. And even though Garrick's mother was looked on as somewhat of a legendary figure to the goblins of The Blooded Belly Gang, she had excepted the challenge, not wanting to lose face and have her reputation tarnished. Also, after giving birth to a hobgoblin, she'd secretly wanted to pass on her leadership to him once he was old enough to adopt the role of leader and because of this she would fight off all challenges. Growing up, Garrick had picked up occasionally how his mother would tell him things that were meant for his later life of leadership. However, the thought of leading The Blooded Belly Gang frightened Garrick. He saw himself more as an integral part of the gang, but no leader. Being second in charge was ideal for him. He could advise and command without the burden of total responsibility.

And so it was that Drunog and Garrack (Garrick's mother) made to fight the next day in the two traditional goblin trials that had been specially made to settle disputes of leadership. The first by tongue, to gain an advantage, and the second by blood, were one of them would submit or even kill the other. Drunog however didn't fancy his chances against the great hobgobliness, who'd led her troops to victory in the massacre of an evil group of ogres. He knew that Garrack would most probably humiliate him and win the Trail By Tongue (though he'd never admit to this) thus gaining an advantage in the blood trial. So he decided then and there that he'd seek out an alternative way to beat Garrak.

The night before the Tongue Trial, Drunog had taken eleven of his most trusted goblins with him and stormed into the chambers of Garrack, slaying all four of her elite guards, though they in turn slew seven of Drunog's goblins. The attack was swift but not swift enough for Garrack to be unready. When he entered with his four remaining goblins into the burrow were she slept, instead of finding her asleep, he found her and Stoggle (Garrick's father) waiting ready with weapons, having heard the noise of the fight.

The two put up a good fight as Drunog ordered two of his goblins to attack Garrack, the other two splitting off to attack Stoggle. Her short bladed sword worked fast and within the space of only seventeen heartbeats the two attacking her lay dead. However, Drunog had quickly sneaked his way behind her as she fought, while she was kept occupied with the two goblins in front of her. As the last of the two fell dead did she feel the jagged blade of Drunog's sword enter into her back. Drunog at least made it fast, targeting her heart and ending her life a moment later.

Stoggle had managed to kill one of his attackers, however the other, who brandished a hefty wooden club, caught him with it on the side of the head and sent his senses spinning. When he awoke he opened his eyes to find himself tied up with the dead body of his lover and leader dead at his feet. Stoggle had to promise Drunog that he wouldn't seek revenge, and in truth what Drunog had done was by goblin law both fair and true. And besides all that, Drunog was a hobgoblin, far bigger and cleverer than him.

Garrack (throughout her years of reign) had also considered that her rule may end abruptly and had made him swear long ago that if the worst happened to her then he would look after the children, teaching them all they needed to become members of The Blooded Belly Gang. After all, one of those children was a young hobgoblin who'd he named after her (though she always thought this a little odd), who'd showed more than just a spark of his mothers intelligence.

It was this story that Stoggle had told young Garrick the day after Garrick had learned of his mother's death. He had been nearly five at the time and although he was upset like his brothers and sisters, he excepted that Drunog had indeed acted fairly in his mothers assassination. Still though, as he stood now in front of Drunog, arguing with the old fool, he did feel that the day his mother died to Drunog's blade was a bad day for The Blooded Bellies.

"I heartily agree with you Drunog but to go out seeking revenge so soon, the orcs will be awaiting the return of the one slain." Garrick said, hoping that this obvious fact would finally change Drunog's mind.

"Which is why we need to strike fast. They'll be fooled, you mark my words. And once they find the booze and see a dead goblin, they'll go into a frenzy thinking that fate has thrown them a gift. Then all we do is wait, wait till their pissed up, and that's when we'll attack! We'll butcher the drunken swine in their own beds. I reckon that we might lose a few goblins, but I guarantee you that we'll win. And if something out of the ordinary happens, something was to go wrong say, then we'll still have my smarts to fall back on."

Garrick realised now that no matter what he said, no argument was going to dissuade Drunog, and eventually he gave up and conceded to the plan, less Drunog grew tired and proclaimed him a coward and a traitor to the tribe. As he headed back to prepare, he told himself again and again that perhaps the plan might work, perhaps there was indeed some touch of genius that for once had escaped from the fat gnarled lips of Drunog. Perhaps he was being biased towards the old hobgoblin from past episodes. This is what he told himself... but unfortunately he didn't believe it!

PART 9:

The Orcs Of Del-Shamukac

The order had come only moments ago, a low sounding drumbeat that echoed all though the orc territory. The sound was known by all the male fighting orcs and as soon as their small pointed ears picked up the beat they knew that their leader was calling for them to meet in the main hall. Quickly they made their way there, knowing that to linger when so called would result in a harsh beating. It took only moments before every male fighting orc of the Del-Shamukac tribe stood in a large circle listening to two orcs in the middle as they discussed a new threat from their old enemy. They all remained silent, not one willing to question any of the discussion that the two were having.

"So you say you saw a lot of them creeping about just outside? Those inbred bloody baby eaters, coming to our good home. How dare they! Up to no good no doubt."

This statement brought a burst of snarling giggles from the orcs surrounding him, and with it the speaker gave his audience a broad grin, soaking in the amusement he'd caused, even though he knew most of the laughter was more out of the fear of upsetting him. He was well used to this, for he ruled with an iron clawed fist, and besides, even though the laughter was most likely fake, he still appreciated the subservience of those beneath him. The orc he addressed was called Gunga-Del-Martop, who sat crossed legged with his eyes closed on the stone floor listening as the leader of the tribe spoke. Hearing the question put to him he slowly nodded his head at Juragg-Del-Sinow who sat in front of him on a chair made from black wood, covered one half in dried dwarf hide, and the other elf. All of the other orcs of the Del-Shamukac tribe feared their leader Juragg-Del-Sinow, a huge vicious orc clad in the skins of many animals, who's reputation was both terrible and true. However, Gungo-Del-Martop had no reason to fear him, and if anything, it was Juragg who felt a little intimidated by Gunga, for Gunga was the one and only shaman of the tribe.

Although Gunga wore only a dirty brown loincloth, from the amount of tattoos adorning his body, he looked fully clothed. It was what those tattoos depicted though that meant anyone glimpsing him might think their sight had gone insane! Scenes of legendary orc battles were heads of those races who liked to live in the light of the sun (these being the dwarfs, elves, humans and halflings) were torn off and placed on long bloody orc pikes, orcs slaying all kinds of creatures, strange magic symbols, orc curse words, naked orc females, all of these pictures made up the artwork on his long skinny body.

"My eyes see all who invade our domain. I tell the truth, Goblins have come. They slunk their way to just outside our eastern entrance. That was the noise you heard. It was they who made the racket, though now they retreat and hide."

"And you say they have placed barrels down on the ground and are now hiding in a small chamber not far from these barrels. You think it a trap?"

Gunga shrugged his shoulders.

"It must be a trap", Juragg continued as he could think of no other reason as to why their enemies the goblins would do such a thing.

"Perhaps it is a peace offering", said Gunga opening his eyes suddenly as a creepy smile spread across his gaunt face. "As I said before, they have also laid down a dead one of their kind for some reason."

Juragg scrunched his piggy face up in confusion as he considered Gunga's words.

"I suppose it could be a peace offering. Why would they kill one of their own though?"

Gunga considered the strange situation, then closing his eyes again so he could see the goblins once more as they hid in the chamber just behind the barrels, he said to Juragg: "The ways of the simple goblin mind are something that our superior intelligence should not try to unravel too much less we become simpletons ourselves! However, I believe that the peace offering stands, and that the dead goblin is some form of sacrifice to show us that they have submitted to our superiority."

"Hmmm... That does make some sense." Juragg said, knowing that from his past encounters with goblins that they did hold quite a few strange traditions. "Wise words indeed Gunga. Those dirty little fuckers probably expect us to eat their rotting dead."

"I've eaten goblin before!"

"Well yes, so have I but I didn't care for it. Stringy with an awful aftertaste as I remember."

"Tastes like dried troll shit!", said a cackling Gunga as he remembered back to his childhood when times were hard and he'd have to eat anything remotely edible just to save himself from starvation.

"Anyway, back to our little green problems.", Juragg said before the laughter of Gunga spread to the other orcs around them. "I say we deal with them as our kind has always dealt with them. There will be no peace between orc and goblin this day. Tell me Gunga, how many of those filthy twats do you see?"

Gunga again closed his eyes.

"There are quite a few, quite a few indeed. I cannot be certain but I'd roughly say there was around twenty to thirty of the little green buggers."

Juragg scratched his chin and gave a small curse under his breath. Like most orcs, his counting skills were not the greatest and he knew that Gunga knew this as well. Annoyed with the old shaman, and not wanting to lose face around those about him he spat out: "Show me on your hands you skinny old arsehole."

Gunga gave a big grin knowing that he'd gotten Juragg to bite. As he did, one orc (known as being particularly foolish to all the other orcs) let loose an unwanted titter that made Juragg leap from his chair, charge over to the now trembling orc and smash his hard scarred forehead into the apologising fools face. As the orc fell to the ground squealing in pain and begging for mercy, Juragg prepared to stamp his foot down onto the fallen orcs head, when suddenly a small spark of blue fire flashed passed his enraged eyes. Immediately he turned around to Gunga, balling his fists up, ready to smash in the old orcs face in.

"Calm yourself Juragg. Tiss my fault and I apologise for the mockery. Consider as well, there are greater problems at hand than your bruised ego." As Juragg started to growl at the old orc who'd just questioned his character, making ready to beat him to death, Gunga quickly bowed down to Juragg in submission saying: "My apologies mighty Juragg. I didn't mean to offend. Please my leader. Remember the goblins just outside." These simple rushed words from Gunga brought an angry "huff" from Juragg and for the briefest of moments, Gunga thought he'd gone too far with the hot-headed leader of his tribe.

"How fucking many!", snarled Juragg at Gunga.

Gunga quickly indicated with his fingers, flashing all of them three times at Juragg.

Although he didn't count well, Juragg was not quite as stupid as what Gunga believed and looking around him he realised that the number of orcs was about the same as that of the waiting goblins. With this thought he calmed himself, standing in thought for a moment.

"Our number and their number are about the same. Is that correct?", he looked down to Gunga who nodded his head. "This situation calls for me to make a decision."

Juragg again stood in thought but every orc knew what that decision was going to be. It was always the same with Juragg, when it came to him formulating a plan it always arrived at the same solution. That of Violence! Also of late, some of the orcs had taken a thorough beaten by a group of wandering adventurers who'd slew six of them when they'd been patrolling their territory in the mines. Only one of the outsiders fell that day and for the last few weeks orc moral within the tribe had been low, so killing off a few weedy goblins might just be the ointment needed to bring back the brutal orc mentality that had been lacking within his tribe.

"We'll bash them in lads. Kill the fucking lot of them. Those horrible little twats are going to regret coming down here onto our rock." A grunty cheer arose from the orcs about him and with it the anger that had filled him but moments before went as quickly as it came.

"What say the lot of you? Anyone got any better ideas?"

With this last statement, all eyes turned to Gunga who simply shrugged his shoulders and said: "I am but a mere Shaman Juragg, and you are my leader. What you say I will follow."

"Then it's settled. Lads, arm yourselves and prepare for battle."

The cheers now turned to howling wails of delight as the orcs sensed an easy kill and prepared to spill some goblin blood.

"And you too Gunga, you will accompany us, so arm yourself as well."

Gunga nodded at Juragg, then removed his loincloth. Now standing naked, he turned to the orc nearest him, clicking his fingers twice in fast succession and ordering: "You there ma lad. Go to my quarters and bring me my hat."

With this last statement the cheering and joviality stopped suddenly as a visible shiver ran through the circle of orcs.

\----------------------------------

This concludes "The Bloody History Of The Su'Varock Mines"

_This is but a part of larger story entitled "Garrick The Hobgoblin And The Goblins Of The Blooded Belly Gang." A part of this main story I have included here. It starts after the history is told (_ _starting at PART 6: The Goblins Of The Blooded Belly Gang_ _)_

This story will follow the Blooded Belly Gang on an adventure as they strive to stay alive within the mines they call home. Through this they will face fearsome creatures, undertake bloody trials, and have to overcome threats and dangers if they want their story to unfold and be passed on to future generations. For though they are only goblins, and the history of the mines is much more classic and bloodthirsty in its telling, the goblins story (though much less significant) will hopefully show that not all fantasy stories need to be big butch legendary epics, with stories featuring such things as powerful armies lead by mighty noble kings, deadly fire breathing dragons intent on burning down cities, or potent wizards capable of the greatest of sorceries to hold the interest of a wandering readers mind!

The story should be on Smashwords in the next few days for a small fee of $3:99.

