The rise of the Horde
I stand on the rocks, overlooking the horde. They looked up towards my imposing figure. Their fatigue is transparently obvious, their wounds still fresh, yet they stand proudly, looking towards their leader with joy and hope in their eyes. Stonekrushers, Hellfires, Stormbringers, Plaguespitters and Nighthordes standing shoulder-to-shoulder. At one time, they were distant clans, indifferent of each others existence. Recently, they were rival bands of warriors, confused of where their loyalties lay as the stories of me murdering the Master were spread, while treachery of Syst and Naxus were slowly revealed. Now, they were the Horde, all of the clans united into one, which hoped to find a new purpose in the world, with me to lead them. I raise my great WarHammer and roar in triumph, but deep down, I'm afraid.
When I was first made by the power of Froxx to serve The Master, Fraziel by commanding the Stonekrusher goblins, everything seemed so simple. Dig, fight and build. That's what our lives amounted to, and we loved it. Then my brother Grax was created by the power of Heelinx to carry out similar tasks, then Faine from Trist, Syst from Phoust, and finally Naxus from Farthis. All of us were made to command a clan each for a specific purpose… to build the great machine. And now look what has happened to us. The Master dead, Ogriss scattered with flames and corpses, our Clan Homes shattered, and four commanders, my brothers, dead…
Not that I cared for them the way the humans would care for their brothers. I don't miss them, but I despair at the waste of their lives and the unjustified rivalry that Naxus created between us. I know now that it was he who killed the Master, he who stole the great machine we laboured to build, he who sent false information to Grax so that the blame of Master's death would ultimately end up being placed upon me, he who magically transported me and my clans into the mountains to force us into combat with Faine, he who abandoned his partner in crime, Syst, to die at my hands so he could take all the power for himself, he would have killed all Goblins and Humans in existence to achieve his own ends, he who betrayed and nearly killed me.
Naxus…
I don't know if he's dead or not. Once through the Moon Gate, he could have easily changed into his Spirit form and escaped the area that was destroyed by the bomb that was meant for me. And if his is alive, is he still a threat? He left his surplus of bombs behind to be destroyed with me and my kinsmen. Why would he do that unless he already had some elsewhere… or even worse, another great machine to create as many bombs as he likes?!
These questions are all important, yet I have no choice but to ignore them for now and plan the future of my kind, even though I have no idea what we'll do. We were created to serve, yet now we have no one to serve now. Only a Human Wizard of Witch can claim lordship over us, and as far as we know, all humans apart from the master see us as abominations, freaks, stalkers in the night that must be cleansed from the earth. We are strong, but we can't fight the whole world. The barren, desolate lands of Ogriss were once protected by the power of Fraziel's magic. Once the Humans realise Ogriss is undefended, fanatical religious leaders and power hungry Monarchs will surly begin great crusades into our lands. The whole world is our enemy, and we have no purpose to live, we can only survive as long as we have soul energy and Clan Homes, and we have no one to look to for help.
Except me…
The horde know we're in danger, yet they trust me to save them, like I saved them from Naxus, who will surly see that we are doomed if he is still alive. I don't know where we will go, what we will do, or how we will survive. I give my Goblins confidence and hope, though my promises that we will find a new way of life for ourselves may be lies even as I say them. The only thing that keeps me going is the words of one of my Stonekrusher captains, Klop, who has decided to record our whole story so that it will be remembered for all time to come. The words that inspire me to go on living, even when I feel sure it would be better if we were all wiped out. The words that will go down in Goblin history…
'We will rebuild. We will endure. We will find purpose…'