Ch 1.
The room that the Goblin leaders were in was dark, damp, and full of sinister-looking plants. There were five Goblins around a table; The feared Generals Bentnoze and Wartface; A goblin in brown robes with a red helm embroidered with a diamond and two ram horns; The Generals's assistant, Grubfoot; And the strongest Goblin general of all time, the sole survivor of the God Wars; High General Dragonscale. The High General wore spiked red armor, made from the scales of dragons, and held a black Bandos godsword and black shield, both holding the power of Bandos and made from the strongest and sharpest of metals: King Black Dragon scales.
Each of these Goblins, excluding Grubfoot, were in very high positions. They were all gathered in the sacred Temple of Bandos, a secret to all but them. The Temple was just below the Generals's room, hidden by a rug. The robed Goblin, who happened to be one of the few High Priests of Bandos, spoke first. His voice was cruel and calculating, and far more sophisticated then any Goblin's talk should be. "In the beginning of all life, the god Guthix created the planet of Gielinor, and fell asleep to leave the planet to the other gods. Armadyl, the god of truth and goodness, created the first three races of Gielinor. First, he molded us, the Goblins, and granted us with no gifts. We were stupid and godless, and wandered Gielinor with no purpose. Armadyl saw our flaws and grimaced, thinking he should create better beings. He created the Aviansie, granted them with the gifts of flight, weapons, and religion. They were far away from us Goblins, and so didn't wipe us out on sight. Then, when Armadyl saw the Aviansie, he thought them too perfect. He then found the plane of Freneskae, and allowed the Mahjarrat to enter Gielinor. He thought them not too imperfect, not too perfect, and watched over them happily as they flourished.
"After this time, near the end of the First Age, we began creating clothes, then villages, then weapons. Our civilization spread like fire and soon, entire stone cities and even castles were built for those of high ranking. Our armies and size rivaled even that of the Aviansie and Mahjarrat. Then, as we got into the Second Age, wars for power broke out all over the Goblin kingdom. Goblin civilization was on the edge of collapsing, but then new races, just finding Gielinor, were discovered. They were Elves and Gnomes. We Goblins took out our hate and rage on them, overwhelming them with our numbers and ransacking villages and the like. The Elves and Gnomes fought back. They once even destroyed the capital together. Our own High General Dragonscale fought in this war, and was put to sleep by Gnomish druids and buried. I only just now discovered him here, sleeping. The war carried on for many years, and Goblins discovered how much they loved war. They began worshipping our great Bandos, and with his help, won countless battles. But this happiness was short-lived. The Elves had help of their own, and used the strength of their goddess to destroy Goblin civilization with a final crusade.
"We moved our kingdom and lived in peace once more, rebuilding our lives and civilization. Then, when the Third Age began, the God of Wisdom, Saradomin, came to the plane of Gielinor and watched over us so that our civilization wouldn't die as soon as we rebuilt it. Then, far across the land, the Majharrat's godly leader Zaros was betrayed by the dark Zamorak, and Zamorak rose to become the god of chaos. Saradomin was more than angry at Zamorak for what he had done, and declared war on him. Zamorak, at first, had the upper hand - He already had armies of his own, the Majharrat. So, to make sure he wasn't defeated before he even had an army, he called for help from Armadyl and the great Bandos. We, out of loyalty to Bandos, fought with him and helped Saradomin fight. The war was too costly, though, and even our armies were no match for a god. Bandos needed more strength. He created Hobgoblins, Giants, Trolls, and Ogres. Our armies mixed, and fought against the Mahjarrat.
"Sadly, though, our civilization was destroyed in the war, and many of us went underground. The last of us, after Guthix awoke and stopped the war, created the village which we are under at the moment. We lived in peace, again, until the disgusting humans came to Gielinor and destroyed many of us. In our anger, we led two crusades; Each on the city Lumbridge. The first crusade was an attack on the bridges over the River Lum, but the many adventurers and guards in the area held us off. Many of the first crusade still stay in the area today, taking refuge in the destroyed house near the area. The next crusade was one on the back of Lumbridge, in the forest. We sent a very large army, and thought it was impossible to lose this time. However, on the way there, we were ambushed several times by the forces of Draynor, the Wizards in the tower nearby, and the disgusting and dirty H.A.M organization. When we finally made it, our exausted forces were easily held off by the guards and lumberjacks around the forest. Some from the second crusade still remain in the forest.
"But now, I have a way to get back at Lumbridge and the humans. There is a sewer filled with zombies underneath the small town Draynor. I have found a tunnel leading there in this very room." He stopped for just a moment, got up from his chair, and held up a Goblin banner on the wall. There was a tunnel behind it. Grubfoot gasped.
"We shall make the zombies rampage and destroy the Wizard Tower and Draynor. We shall take it as a home base and proceed to destroy H.A.M. Afterwards, High General Dragonscale will take our armies and the remnants of the second crusade and storm the city. However, there is a large flaw in this plan. A wise old man lives in Draynor, and he has a powerful staff, capable of rivaling the strength of the Godswords themselves. We shall steal the staff and I shall change it, contort it, and create a staff of Bandos to destroy all in our path!" Grubfoot cheered, and the Generals clapped.
"You outdone urself," Bentnoze applauded. "But who will steal staff?"
The High Priest smiled. "Grubfoot."
Wartface frowned. "Grubfoot worth nothing! He can't not steal rock from sleeping flower!" He looked down. "Where my necklace?" He looked over at Grubfoot, who held the brass medallion in his hand. Wartface snatched it back, scowling.
"You see? He's not just a dumb slave," The High Priest said. "Tonight, we steal the staff of power. Tomorrow, we kill it's previous owner!"