"Veni, Vidi, Vici." - Gaius Julius Caesar
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...
In a grand, underground hall, a gathering of goblin shamans quarreled incessantly. More than a dozen tribes gathered in order to discuss and determine the future of their race. For their race was without form, and without unity. And seeing the blood of their brethren spilled time and again by the monsters that came when the sun was high, it was high time for them to finally unite and become one. For before, they were beasts of no nation. But not anymore. This council will determine the future of the goblin race. Amongst them stood out one goblin. He was not a lord, nor shaman. A hobgoblin nor a champion, no. he was but a puny little goblin, but he was different. Up until now, the Gods had cursed their race, doomed to fulfill the role of a pawn on their celestial game. Who was at fault that they became creatures of malice? For the Gods had given them a wretched body! They have not created a woman for them to multiply! They, Goblins, were cursed from the start!
They chose not evil.
Evil chose them.
…
Their voices rose up in an unintelligible clamour, without understanding nor unity. Until the goblin shaman pounded his hand on the stone table and yelled out an order.
"Silence! Twelve Cobalus tribes of our race stand in this cave today! Today, we shall see what the future holds for us!"
"The Humanoids have slain nigh too all of us! I say, vengeance!" another shaman exclaimed, arousing further belligerence.
"Yes! We have the numbers to wage war immediately!"
"This is unacceptable! And who will pay for the blood that this war demands?!" an elderly goblin retorted.
"We're tired! You, of higher birth and privilege know not our struggles!" another common goblin yelled.
"Our men have no food or water, not a cloth or proper blade!"
The goblin shaman roared in anger. "YOU IMBECILES! YOU KNOW NOTHING!"
"Keep your mouth shut, or I'll burn you to a crisp!" another shaman yelled, sending a bolt of fire towards a goblin. He limped back into the crowd, screaming in pain and blinded by the heat.
"You will not send our people on an aimless fight!"
"No more!"
The goblin shaman commanded the hobgoblin guards and champions to destroy the gathering crowd, but to his surprise, they wouldn't budge.
"I lost my brother because of this battle!" the champion had a deep cut on his right eye, and had only barely managed to escape alive after that brutal battle.
"Lord goblin is dead!"
"Enough is enough!" the head shaman leapt to his feet and started firing bolts of fire at the crowd, killing both young and old. The hobgoblins refused to follow their master, yet they stood at the sidelines in horror.
Until one goblin dared step forward. With his thin arm, he threw a javelin, and pierced the chest of the goblin shaman, wounding him.
And like a domino, his one act of defiance aroused revolutionary fervor throughout the ranks!
All hell broke loose, there was chaos everywhere. The shamans were surrounded from all sides, as the common goblins clamoured and rushed to satisfy their thirst for vengeance. The few hobgoblins who decided to fight back were overrun, as if they were insects swarmed by ants. As the revolution ensued, the one goblin approached the dying shaman.
"You… you have doomed us all..." the shaman coughed up blood.
"Perhaps," says he, tearing his javelin out of the shaman's chest.
"But we would rather die a free Cobalian, than live a slave!"
And he thrust his blade into the heart once more. A streak of blood. A streak of hope. He wiped his stubbled cheek, and leapt on the stone table.
"Brothers! My brothers! My fellow Cobalians! Today is the day that we live, or die!"
When the pandemonium died down, all eyes were on him.
"We have lost plenty, I have lost everything! We are a doomed race, from birth to death we were cursed! We have killed one another, betrayed our own people to save our own skins! There will be no salvation for us now, but the question is, WILL YOU STAND UP AND DIE, OR LAY DOWN AND ROT?!"
"Rise! Rise!"
"No more! We will fight!"
"For our people!"
He raised his hand. "Once, we were beasts! We were monsters! But no more!"
"Today, we stand up as one nation! One people! And no longer shall we remain, beasts of no nation!"
…
And they rose. They stood tall. On the blood and dirt, though wounded and bruised, they stood tall. For the goblins refused to die like dogs. For they were dogs, but now, one of them dared rise up and defy his fate. For he was a lion. And the hundred of them were dogs, but led by a lion, no. They will all fight and die, all like lions. When the smoke came down, and when they raised their arms in unison, they were no longer goblins. They were now a nation, a race with a new name; Cobalus. Before, they were without form. Before, they were without unity. And the one who started it all faced his people. And his name, like smoke, was carried by the wind.
Caecus. Caecus, the blind one.
For one of his eyes were lost in the fight, but his vision of truth was now opened.
And though he was a mortal, weak and pathetic like the rest, he refused to accept it.
He had seen his brothers die. He had witnessed his children die. And he saw the desperation of his people to bear fruit and multiply, that he realized how cruel, how wretched the Gods have created them to be.
They have reached the bottom. If they have to crawl their way up, they will. There was little to lose, and plenty to gain.
Today, they became one nation. One Cobalian became their leader.
A leader is a dealer in hope.
…
Six months passed as swift as the heavy rain that embraced the frontier lands. These lands, they now shall call Cobala, the land of the Cobalus.
Their leader, Caecus, he was not the ruler of Cobala, but a Cobalian ruler.
He was not a lord nor shaman. Just a common Cobalian. He was a pawn.
But pawns are the most powerful of all pieces.
For they can become a king.
And the greatest of kings are not of gold, but of iron.
Six months. Caecus rode wolves and dogs through forests and mountains. Day or night, storm or wind. Tribe after tribe, camp after camp, he visited. Uniting and consolidating this newfound nation. There were times when the goblins refused to accept his new authority, but rebellion was an answer not to be taken. Blood was spilled, but it was a price that had to be paid. A nation cannot be divided, as a house cannot stand if the pillars are not in unison. Those who refused to obey his authority were imprisoned, but bloodshed was avoided if possible. Most of the goblins soon accepted the new reality and offered little opposition. Goblins were creatures that would submit to higher powers, but that was not always a good thing.
…
The Council of Commons is formed. This was a party of two hundred Cobalians that acted as the representative of the public. They were allowed to vote, voice out the public demand and suggest laws. The Council of Ancients is composed by fifty Cobalian Shamans and elders. They are the ones who pass laws, possess the veto power and are essentially the ruling body of the government.
At the head of it all were the grand marshals and the Caesar, Caecus himself.
Government in Cobala was crude and inexperienced. But soon, it would grow into a competent organization dedicated to the interests of the Cobalian nation. There was some semblance of democracy in Cobala, as the council of commons had the privilege to demand and offer their opinion on the grand scheme of things. The council of ancients ensured that immediate power was not always in the hands of the Caesar. The fifty ancients are the leaders of the fifty tribes that are under Cobalian rule. The two hundred commoners hail from each of the fifty tribes. It would seem that this was a fair system, but it was far from perfect. The Cobalians were terribly belligerent with each other, and the presence of the Caesar was the only power that they could agree upon.
In spite of all these monumental reforms, Cobala is still a very poor and weak nation. Putting aside the fact that it now possessed a fledgling government, Cobala is merely fifty and more tribes strung together by a frail unification. Disease, hunger, crime and rape was rampant across the land. Cobalian territory stretched wide, but there was no solid presence of authority anywhere, except for their capital, Viridis. Despite that, progress was being made slowly, but surely.
Fourteen Cobalian provinces were formed with its own local government. Tribes were abolished, but there were still numerous unaligned goblin camps and tribes that exist. These provinces are often abandoned or captured villages that were converted into goblin dwellings. The roads and trails were often poorly maintained, but for the Cobalians who primarily peregrinate through forests and bush, it was not much of an issue until later on.
Ambushes, raids and thievery were done on a more systematic basis. Now that the Cobalians are a more organized force, they prowl along designated roads and passages, monopolizing on thievery and looting for their livelihood. Town roads and highways were targeted during the night and early morning. Village raids were swift and planned, yet still carried the characteristic of being chaotic and violent. The Cobalians took anything that could be of any use to them; clothes, food, tools and weapons. Most importantly, they began taking literary works and art - books, manuscripts, paintings and maps. That was perhaps the most stunning change of behavior by the Cobalians during their pillaging. Before, they would simply kill, loot and set fire to the community once they were through with it. But now, they placed emphasis not to destroy certain buildings such as libraries and churches. They would take everything inside those, but usually leave the building relatively intact.
If the raids occurred during harvest season, they would take the crops as well. Afterwards, they would salt the farmland - throw salt powder and sand on the earth in order to render it barren and unable to bear fruit anymore. They would only apply this scorched earth tactic if the village is relatively near to other stronger, well defended human settlements, in order to rob them of their source of food.
The Cobalians were better-trained and better-equipped. Each goblin was equipped with a dagger, a sword or spear and a short bow and poisoned arrows. It was not the best set of equipment, but it was much more refined than the before. They were now a raider force to be reckoned with. They carried sacks and ropes to gather loot and tie down hostages. Villagers would often get killed in the ensuing attack, but once it was clear that the goblins had seized victory, fleeing villagers would usually be chased and tied down. If a villager is particularly keen on escaping, he would be shot and killed. Women and children were treated a bit more humane, in a sense. Men would often be executed or enslaved, but the former is more common. Human slaves are very rare, as Cobalians were more robust and hard workers in comparison. If the villager happened to be a librarian, elder or an educated man, he would be treated with importance. The council of ancients and Caecus himself realized that education would be the key for a civilized Cobalian nation.
…
The irony is that while the Cobalians pushed for technological and cultural advancement, there was still much to be debated on their customs and behavior. One in particular is the nature of rape.
Caecus was still a goblin at heart, but unlike the others, he was much more intelligent. In the sense that he began to question the morality of their nature.
"It does not occur to me, but is rape justifiable, father Papagos?" Caecus asked his mentor, an old shaman. At the time, they were in their capital of Viridis, in an abandoned castle that was currently being rebuilt. The library was missing whole walls of books, but it was slowly being filled up by the continuous flow of salvaged materials.
Shaman Papagos explained to him that Cobalians are cursed by the Gods with the inability to reproduce. "The deities had not created the fair sex of our race. And given that our nature is of a vile and repulsive creature, it is nigh impossible to find a mate. By a stroke of luck or curse, we possess the ability to reproduce with other races."
Caecus would say, I do not understand. But he did, and there was no denying it. "It would seem that the Gods have deliberately cursed us to become monsters that rape and pillage," he was angry. Why would the Gods - but no matter. Destiny is often treacherous. And destiny had doomed his people in evil.
"Perhaps. But Caesar, what else could we do?" Caecus was silent.
"You and I, we chose not evil. We were born evil. Those humans, they pray to their Gods to gain their blessing and passage to the afterlife, but is fate not spun by the Gods themselves? And suppose that your fate is spun, and you are not fated to be one of the blessed?"
"And are we fated to live and die as mere pawns?"
"Caesar, that is a question that only you can answer." The old shaman gave a wrinkled smile. And though shaman Papagos was by all means, not a benevolent, divine priest, he was a skilled practitioner of magic and most of all, a wise philosopher.
Such is the burden of knowledge.
"We pray, in hopes of changing our fate. We pray for health, victory and wealth. But if the Gods decided that we are not to go to paradise, but instead to hell, what can you do?"
To think, we goblins were never given the choice between good and evil.
It seemed as if we were made for evil.
But it is not about what you can do.
The questions is,
What will you do?
…
The title of Caesar was bestowed upon Caecus a week after the Cobalian uprising. There was a terrible uproar after losing the few high shamans in the vicious revolution, and infighting was rampant. Most of the goblin horde was without leader and there was no lord nor shaman determined enough to take control of the twelve initial tribes. And twelve tribes in one place were prone to a vicious un-civil war. Caecus, being the one who started it all, was at first reluctant and did not expect such a powerful effect to take place. But he was determined to finish what he had started. He had lost an eye in the epic defeat of their army, and Caecus thirsted for revenge.
But then, he realized that perhaps - perhaps it was not just simply about personal vengeance.
His fellow Cobalians were impoverished and starving, and their population was rapidly dwindling. Caecus, being a common goblin just like the rest of them, understood the struggle of his race. Common goblins often suffered the worst in any conflict.
Truth is, Caecus was just a goblin. He was a pawn. But just as the question is what will you do, he chose to become a ruler.
But becoming a ruler was one thing. Becoming a good ruler is another.
In Viridis castle, he spent his days recuperating his wounds and educating himself. Caecus obtained education from the elder Cobalians and shamans. They taught him a more intimate understanding of ancient Cobalian language, magic and religious practices. Human captives would also be brought in to share and teach the Caesar about the human language, culture and literature. Not only humans, but even elves, dwarves and many more manner of beings. Caecus learned the lingua franca of the realm, allowing him to converse with all races intelligibly.
A good ruler is an educated ruler.
…
Without education, there can be no future.
Caecus by now had learned the basics of language and literature, but he had merely scratched the surface of knowledge. Alchemy, medicine, science, mathematics, geography and most of all, military sciences and doctrines. After establishing the Cobalian government composed by the council of commons and council of ancients, with the help of his advisors and elders, Caecus established the first academy in Cobalian history. Viridis castle served as the academy campus, where the council members came to study and learn. The grand marshals of Cobala and Caecus himself obtained the skills and knowledge in the art of war from this academy. Public education was provided by traveling scholars and missionaries.
With his newfound knowledge and wisdom, he set out to raise his nation of Cobala from the ashes. Caecus was a goblin. A learned goblin. Regardless, he was still weak and scrawny - the wound on his right eye had permanently scarred his face forever, and he was relatively weaker than most of his fellow Cobalians. A human would overpower him one on one. But the Cobalians did not scorn him for his handicap. They could not forget that Caecus was the one who dared step forward against the existing order, and that brought him a nigh legendary reputation among their ranks - both a blessing, and a curse.
Because along with education, a new level of threat emerges.
Insurgency.
…
The council threatened to overthrow Caecus because he was of common birth. A civil war could break out between the two factions - the commons and ancients. Education was a double edged sword that changed the political and military landscape of Cobala as they knew it. They were barely six months in, after the Cobala uprising, and another infighting would prove catastrophic and may break apart the nation he had worked so hard to put together.
It cannot be two factions.
A nation cannot be divided. It must become one.
The insurgency was quickly quelled. Caecus had chosen to destroy the council of ancients.
It was a bloody event that would throw Cobala into another change of directions. Now, there was no council - it is now a centralized government headed by a senate of Cobalian representatives. It seemed way worse than it was before, but Cobalians are notoriously belligerent.
The obvious solution would be to establish an absolute monarchy.
That was how the goblin lord would have done it.
But Caecus was not a goblin lord.
And he had no intentions of becoming one.
The irony is that he is still an absolute ruler of Cobala.
But he knew that he cannot do it alone.
The senate would be composed of both commons and shaman Cobalians. They would govern the nation when Caecus was not available, but Caecus held the executive power. Finally, it was agreed. At the top was the Caesar, next below is the senate. The educated in the public would be allowed to vote. Cobala is now certainly a nation.
Caecus issued numerous reforms to the nation - construction and establishment of foundries, blacksmith and craftsman guilds as well as organized mining and resource gathering sectors. It may seem that Cobala by now is an industrialized nation, but it was all but that. Throughout the nation, there are only five Cobalian-built smithies, and little more than a dozen guilds. A foundry is situated deep in Viridis mountain. More than twenty captured blacksmith shops supplemented Cobalian weaponry and materiel. Twenty more captured workshops were scattered across the land. These were almost all located in abandoned or captured villages. Mining operations ran in the Ironvalley mountains. These mineshafts and areas were won over by the Cobalians with relentless harassment and assaults on the dwarf-controlled facilities. It was an easy victory, but without the useful knowledge and education they received at the academy, they would have not managed to operate such facilities. Ironvalley mountains had seven mines that were now under Cobalian control. But soon, this would lead to conflict…
Lessons learned from agriculture; the Cobalians began cultivating the lands in the provinces of Susa, Cobulus and Virens. They planted root crops, herbs, fibers etc. certainly not on a grand scale, but just like a village's - small patches of land, tended by Cobalian farmers. Agriculture would soon be their prime source of food, but their farmlands were situated deep into the frontier lands, and well defended by irregular sentries and traps. In the unlikely event that any adventurer were to stumble upon these plots of farmland, there was nothing much of value - and potatoes are fairly well concealed.
Cobalians began to build bigger, much more complex and refined underground dwellings, with extremely well concealed entrances.
Cobala did not possess a navy - yet. Two captured towns, now renamed the provinces of Sucidus and Prasinus were located far north, at the waterfront of a fjord. It was a small human settlement, overtaken easily. And it was far from the reach of the Kingdom, so it was essentially Cobalian territory now. The Kingdom would not notice a few missing villages. Not that soon anyways. Sucidus and Prasinus soon began streaming seafood back to Viridis, providing a huge source of food for the now rising populace of Cobala.
…
The rising populace was the result of a grim advancement. With the increase in organization, the Cobalians began establishing Spawn Camps, where female captives are systematically impregnated to produce goblin offsprings.
There was no going around the immorality of rape.
Oh, if only the Gods have not been so foolish as to forget creating the fair sex of the goblins.
On the other hand, Cobalians now had a health sector - goblin 'doctors' trained in medicine and able to perform surgical measures with substantial proficiency. Giving birth to a goblin was often an excruciating affair - and normal humans would often give birth to up to six goblins before succumbing to the stress. Newborn Cobalians were much smaller than a human newborn, and it was not uncommon to give birth to twins. Advancement in medicine and training made the life of the female captives if only marginally more bearable. Anaesthetics made from herbs and oils numbed the pain and staved off infections. This also greatly extended the lifespan of the captives. Ironically, it may have only served to extend their suffering.
There is a prime Spawn Camp in Viridis castle. A little over sixty captives are housed there. A hundred offspring could be spawned in the span of three months. Several hundred more came from all over the stretches of Cobala.
There is much debate ensuing in the Cobalian court regarding the matters with the Spawn Camps.
Caecus knew it was a necessary evil.
Goblins cannot bear fruit with their own race.
The Gods have brought this malice upon themselves. They have cursed my people to defile.
But he who saves a nation, violates no law.
At the very least, the captives are not to be abused.
Food and water are to be given three times a day to the captives. They are to bathe thrice a week. Breeding shall only commence once, and only for the purpose of procreation.
However, this was more of a guideline than a rule.
For sex, an act of procreation; suitable for recreation.
….
Six months have passed. Six, rainy months of relative silence. There was little to no goblin activity anywhere within the immediate reach of the Kingdom, and raids seldom struck the inner villages. Goblin activity in Water Town was drastically reduced. Perhaps the Cobalians have pulled out of the city? There were still passages the goblins could always use to infiltrate the town, but there was generally none but giant rodent infestation. The Adventurer's guild received much less goblin-related quests.
Of course, there were still raids. There were still ambushes. And there were still murders.
The goblins just got better at it.
They thought they had destroyed and beaten back the goblin army in the vicious battle that occured in what the Cobalians would now call the province of Peleus.
The massacre of Peleus.
Of course, there were still goblins. But seemed as if they had learned their lesson of keeping away from the villages and not trying to start an incursion.
It was all but that.
The Kingdom did not know of the Cobalian nation. They did not even know Cobala existed.
Goblins were stupid, vicious beasts. That was all there was to it.
Of course, the battle of Peleus six months ago was but a memory.
Still, nobody could comprehend a unified goblin nation - after all, Cobala was but that. It was only nominally unified. How could you call a group of far-flung camps a nation? Nobody would buy that story.
Nobody but the Goblin slayer.
Caecus began drawing plans and issuing orders for a massive construction project. Caecus knew that the Cobalians cannot settle in villages and towns - they would be the subject of human and elven attacks. If the Kingdom found out about the Cobala capital at Viridis castle, they would annihilate the capital and it was back to square one. Viridis castle was essentially turned into an underground bunker. On the surface, it was relatively barren. The castle itself was patched up by brick and mortar, the walls had patches of brown and red. Courtesy of Cobalian engineers. The castle itself housed the national treasury, the library and served as the seat of power. By all means, it was not grand; the "treasury" was but a room filled with gold, sculptures, paintings and such. The library is… a library. Still missing several rows of books. And the seat of power was an old, stone throne. But the Caesar would rather sit on a wooden chair. Thrones are for mediocrities, after all.
Cartographers brought back drawn maps of the Cobalian nation. Their territory spanned around four hundred and twenty thousand kilometres, if properly compared to the Kingdom, which was a huge, six hundred and forty thousand kilometres. But keep in mind that most of these Cobalian "Territories" were only nominal - there was no solid geopolitical basis for drawing these lines. The Cobalians virtually had no authority over half of their land. Although most of all the goblins in the land were by now aware and accepting of the Caesarian rule, that did not mean they had an organized army - yet.
"The Kingdom would utterly destroy us in a pitched battle. There would be no way we can defend our provinces, let alone our capital from a total war." Caecus examined the maps that lay before him, scratching at the wooden table with a thin finger.
"Say, what shall we do?" marshal Khmer implored.
"I'll say, we have enough weapons and provisions to field an army one thousand strong," says the blacksmith-chief, D'Olpi.
"And send what little force we have towards impending destruction?" says another. "I beg to differ. One thousand, be it one hundred thousand, we will always lose the battle if we face them head on."
"Doctor Trimagasi. Have you no faith? Not always," Caecus said in a calm tone.
"But - Caesar, are you actually considering waging war?"
"No. Of course not. Not with what we have, we cannot. But the security of our nation must be emphasized. After the defeat in Peleus, we had lost hundreds of dead."
Peleus was not even a battle. It was a massacre. It was one of the highlighted topics when discussing the history of Cobala, and it was not a pretty sight. More than half a thousand lives were lost, and the opposing side took no more than a hundred casualties. A closer inspection of the tactics and strategy utilized by the former goblin army showed numerous flaws and deficiencies. There was no cavalry, the infantry had no cohesion, and there was little fire support. In fact, the only clever thing they had done was to use human shields, and even that was poorly used.
It was uncharacteristic of a goblin to avoid conflict. But Caecus was the leader of over four hundred thousand Cobalians. If that seemed like a huge number, the Kingdom in comparison towered at over twenty million inhabitants. And that was from a report two years ago.
To wage war would be certain defeat.
No, it would be certain destruction.
Caecus shook himself off his train of thoughts and returned his attention to the matter at hand. "As we cannot defend our settlements in the event of an attack - and even if we could, it would attract much attention and inevitably inform the Kingdom of a serious threat; us. I am planning the construction of underground tunnel systems that would connect the fourteen provinces to each other. These lines would allow us to travel day or night, in storm or war. Swiftly and stealthily. This network would connect Tres Lineae from the south, to Kumbaya and Troyes, then towards Cobulus and here, the capital."
The six marshals of the Cobala nation murmured amongst themselves at such a plan. Was it even possible? Sure, Cobalians are obedient, tireless workers, but this was calling for the digging of hundred-mile long tunnels, stretching through mountains, hills and forests.
Chief engineer Goreng spoke up. "But sire, you are talking of a tunnel system that would connect provinces hundreds of miles apart. It could be done, of course, if it is your will. But it would be tedious and untenable."
"These tunnels are not one single, continuously running line. We'll break them into hundreds of sections, with a small camp at each notch."
"There will be sentries, of course," marshal Melas added. "I think it is a splendid idea. We could catch wind of any approaching attack in speed."
"Consider the communications," general Scipio chimed in. "We'll have to draw multiple relay lines for them dogs to scram along."
"Yes, yes. Communication lines."
"And suppose there is an attacking force?"
Caecus' staff died down in silence at his question.
"If it is just those repulsive little fools that come into our land to kill our people, I say we spear them back towards the hole they came out of." says marshal Khmer.
"Yes, spear them back." Caecus nodded. "But do not push forward."
"Why, what do you mean?"
"Here, we are already on our way into becoming a unified power. But if we show our cards to the enemy right now and then, they'll crush us before the war has even started." doctor Trimagasi explains.
"War! War is inevitable. Ye only waiting for what is unavoidable," Melas exclaimed.
Scipio agreed. "Marshal Melas is right. However, I do think that we should consolidate our forces until the time is ripe."
"Those adventuring little twits are enough casus belli to wage war," says D'Olpi, while chewing on a wad of resin.
"Marshals, silence. Engineer Goreng, have the construction plans carried out. I entrust it to you, the safety of our people."
"Yes, sire."
"Marshal Khmer, Marshal Melas, General Scipio. What is the state of our academies?"
"Troyes, sir, has four hundred troops in training. Cobulus has around seven hundred, and Virens has four hundred and counting."
"They are all conducting exercises and training. However, the men are still quite not ready for immediate deployment," Melas said.
"Duly noted," I'd expect numbers around a thousand by now. "And the cavalry, where is the cavalry?"
General Scipio pushed forward a piece of paper. "We have short of a thousand hundred dog-riders currently acting as our reconnaissance and communications relay. Wolf-riders totalled at no more than five hundred. The horse-riders are barely trained, with only fifty cavalrymen."
All in all, that was around 1600 foot soldiers and a little more than a thousand irregular cavalry. This was in fact, quite a large force, considering that this was fielded by the Cobalians, whose forces never numbered more than a hundred at times. The massacre at Peleus did not even involve close to sixteen hundred goblins, so this was in fact, a force to be reckoned with. Though still, these were but goblins. Trained goblins.
…
"You! Men! Today, you are no longer mercenaries! You are no longer bandits! Today, you shall become soldiers. You do not fight for gold, no, not women, and most certainly not for yourself! You are now soldiers of a nation, to whom you owe your lives! You are no longer beasts of no nation!"
The crowd of goblins clamoured in uproar, all attention drawn towards the one-eyed goblin in front of them.
"And who do you think you are?"
"You are not a lord!"
"You're just an imp!"
"Who do you think I am?" Caecus' gaze turned into one of imperious intent. "No, no. Who do you think YOU are?"
"Are you just some scum of the earth who had run off upon the defeat of your lord? What? And now, do any of you honestly think of yourself as better than me?" Caecus roared out, and though his voice was no louder than the goblin next to him, it reverberated with an intensity unmatched by any other.
"He who thinks he can lead our people better than I, step forward!"
Silence. Moments passed. Caecus stared back at the crowd of green men, his hands fiddling behind him.
"Is there no one else?"
So it begins.
"I am not a lord. But I tell you, you shall not fight for lords nor kings no more. You will fight for the man standing beside you. You will fight for our nation. You will fight, alongside me."
…
"Excellent. Marshals, dismissed."
There was much to be considered. First of all, this was no longer a mere goblin horde. This was the first army of Cobala in training, and it is an army. Not so long ago, the so-called army that fought at the battle of Peleus was a strung-up several hundred goblins led by a mediocre king. And even if they had won the battle? It did not matter. They could win the battle, but not the war.
The army of Cobala can win the war.
This is an army. Sixteen hundred trained foot soldiers. Four battalions of Cobalians supplied and provisioned with rations of fish, root and meat. Each soldier is able to wield a sword, hurl a javelin and use a halberd. And each soldier was equipped with those three weapons. Accompanied by a dagger and a pouch of poison to dip their blades into, each Cobalian was better equipped and skilled. But most of all, thanks to the reforms that brought Cobala its own source of weaponry, they are able to craft composite recurve bows and refined arrows. Each Cobalian soldier was essentially an archer, trained to fire poisoned arrows in quick succession, with impressive accuracy. Cobalians are extremely quick learners, and in the span of a year, they could match a veteran elf archer in accuracy. An ordinary foot soldier wielding a recurve bow could let loose three arrows in under three seconds, with all three arrows never missing a target within fifty yards.
Dressed in boiled leather tunics and cotton clothes, the Cobalians are certainly not the most competent in close-combat, but now they are trained to attack not as a horde, but as a team. Most of the soldiers wore a leather or fur cap. And although there was a reserve of iron and chainmail armor enough for two thousand Cobalians, these armours are to be used only when the event calls for it, such as pitched battles; which was unlikely.
Cobalians also wore shirts made of silk under their tunics. If an arrow pierced through, it would get caught on the silk fabric. Silk does not tear easily, and a goblin could easily pull out the arrowhead with much more ease. The wound would be easier to treat as well.
Every Cobalian soldier was also capable of riding a dog, wolf or horse. Though the latter is quite unpopular, given the size of the beast compared to a goblin. Cobalian blacksmiths and leather workers had managed to copy and augment the saddles used by the royal cavalry of the Kingdom and create their own custom cantled saddles, tailored for riding a dog or wolf. Additionally, the Cobalians were the first to use stirrups, and rode their mounts in a way that no other race did. As goblins are small and light, they could ride a dog or horse at incredible speeds, through rough terrain or bush. They can steer their ride using the stirrups, leaving their hands free to fire a bow and arrow. The five hundred wolf-riders of general Scipio are all finely trained to shoot arrows, slide down the side of a wolf in order to shield himself from enemy fire, hold his bow under the animal's chin, and return fire. All this, at full gallop.
Goblins are weak, yes. They are small, scrawny creatures. But they were not without advantage.
Speed is their prime advantage.
…
Five young adventurers have set out on a quest to bring back a report on a certain village up north, situated near a fjord. It was not a goblin quest - at least not explicitly. Six months had passed since that giant goblin battle. It was the talk of town for about a week, and soon it was nothing but old news. The village in question, had not sent back any produce nor paid tax for about a month now, and rumors arised that the town had either rebelled or was destroyed. It could have been goblins, but surprisingly enough, nobody thought of that.
The small group rode on horseback for the whole day. One said they should set up camp for the night, and the other wanted to ride onward. They were almost there, says he. The sun was sinking on the horizon as deep blue creeped across the sky. Soon it would be nightfall, and the nearby woods makes for a great campfire. A few hours later, they had set up camp for the night.
Now, any sensible person would know that it is always a bad idea to set up camp out in the open. But they were not expecting any hostiles any time soon. Besides, what could possibly attack them at any hour? A lot. Bears, wolves, of course goblins. But the five adventurers were not just some inexperienced group of kids. They were steel-ranked adventurers, and well trained. Two wielded a bow and arrow, two more brandished a longsword and one used a halberd.
Should a goblin come and try to attack them, one man with a longsword was more than a match. And it was on open ground.
But they certainly were not expecting mongol goblins riding wolves.
Perhaps the most powerful asset of a goblin is his sense of smell. Their olfactory senses are so sharp, they could detect even iron and metal. That is the most dangerous part. And a man dressed in chainmail? A blind goblin could find him from half a mile away.
"Did you hear that?"
"What is it?"
"I think I heard… dogs?"
They looked around but saw nothing. Soon, they were on their feet, weapons drawn. You can not be too prepared, that they knew. But in this darkness, they could see no more than thirty feet, by the flickering light of their campfire.
"I don't know. Probably just - AGH! FUCK!"
An arrow struck the swordsman right in the shoulder. The broadhead pierced through in between his pauldron and chestpiece, sinking its razor sharp head through his clothes. But that was not a missed shot, by all means. It was a carefully placed arrow, right in the weakest chink in his armor. Incidentally, it had managed to poke through his artery.
"What is it?!"
"Dark elf archers!"
"I don't see them!"
"Ahm… we should go. GO! Get the horses!" the swordsman limped towards his steed, and mounted it. They would not dare fight dark elf archers, especially during the night. Those were extremely dangerous when allowed the opportunity to fight on their chosen ground. The five had not made it far out from the forest and into the plains, only to find their companion had fallen from his horse and rolled unconscious on the grass.
"What happened to him?"
"I-I don't know!"
Two of his companions got off their horses and ran towards their unconscious friend, only to be greeted by a slew of arrows that caught the spearman on the neck and shoulder. The other was shot on the foot and side, halting the two dead in their tracks.
As if to announce the ambush, several bone-chilling howls rose in the air.
"There! I see them!"
She nocked an arrow into the bowstring, and took aim at the swift moving silhouette of a wolf. What was shocking was that there was no rider to be seen atop the wolf! Had she been seeing wrong or…?
"Goblins!"
The answer was confirmed by an arrow that struck her square in the chest. Her steel chestplate gave a resounding crack as the projectile punctured it with ease. By a stroke of luck, the arrowhead had only nicked her skin, yet the impact was enough to send her plummeting off her horse and to the ground.
Her companion on the other hand, was stunned. Everything had happened in under ten seconds. What was she going to do? They couldn't even see what was attacking them! Fight-or-flight response kicked in and she chose to run. Anything that had managed to tear apart their party in under ten seconds flat, she could do nothing about it. Absolutely nothing.
She didn't think she would make it out alive. On the contrary, she thought it was her end. The assailants gave chase, and she could hear the growling and gnashing of vicious canines right behind her. She was terrified. Pure, unadulterated terror. Fear is amplified greatly, especially when you are being pursued.
If she dared look back, she would have seen no dark elves.
But goblins. Wolfback riding, arrow firing bastards that demonstrated a skill unseen before.
An elf could not achieve such a feat, at breakneck speed. And that was taking into consideration that elves use enchantments and magic to augment their skills into superhuman levels. An elf would gawk in awe, at such a feat. From a goblin, no less.
But she did not have the time to think about what had just happened.
She felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her. And she fell asleep on the saddle.
…
"Dammit, why'd you let 'er go!"
"What gives, we'd utterly destroyed all the while!"
"Didn't the boss say, 'don't push forward'?"
"No loose ends, you imbecile! What do you think is gon' happen now?!"
"Genius! That woman would come running home and runnin' 'er mouth and before you know it, we'd have seven rangers from seven different cities right after us!"
"No matter. They didn't reach Prasinus, and that is what matters."
"What're we gon' do with these?"
The three wolf-riders approached the four immobile bodies of the fallen adventurers. Their wolves were snarling and drooling over the bodies, but the four humans did not budge. They were gagging, making slight jerk-movements akin to a fish out of water.
Poison. Poisoned arrows. A powerful nerve agent takes effect in under minutes. Faster if the target is in stress. Courtesy of the doctor that had distilled snakeroot and dart toad extract into a substance rivaling curare.
"Hehe… take the woman to the slammer!"
Two goblins hopped off their animals and tied up the limp body of the woman like hay bale, and slid it over one of the horses.
"And the three men?"
"What, you wanna drag these three oafs to camp, be my guest!"
"One of them would just bleed out. I think you got him clean."
"Kumbaya."
"Si, si. Kumbaya."
The third goblin walked over to the remaining conscious man, who glared at him viciously, like a dying dog. The goblin only shook his head, but not in mockery.
He pulled out an arrow from the man's side that his fellow wolf-rider had let loose.
"Kumbaya, sicarius."
And he put an arrow clean through the man's left eye.
A very generous gift from a goblin; a swift death.
"No loose ends, huh."
He pulled out all the arrows from the dead and dying bodies, tied the bloodied arrowheads together in a bundle and threw it inside his knapsack. He then proceeded to take the weapons, jewelry and whatever else would be of any value. Afterwards, he dragged the three bodies into a row, and threw a dirty square of cloth over the little funeral.
They took the horses, and rode off into the night. Like ice, they melted back into the forests of Cobala.
...
High morning. Chirping of birds could be heard coming from the eaves. When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at the whitewashed ceiling of what would presumably be a clinic ward. She tried to sit up, but a wave of excruciating pain greeted her. She cried. Her back was on fire. It was like she had been mauled by a bear and had fallen unconscious. She tried to remember what had happened last night, she did not forget. She was riding her horse, but to what direction she did not know.
The nurse heard her cries, and strolled into the room with a worried expression.
"Oh, you're awake! Thank the heavens, we thought you were dead!"
"What… happened..."
"You wouldn't believe it! We… folks found you, and your horse on the side of a road," the nurse seemed to be out of breath. "When they brought you in here, you had like, six arrows lodged on your backside!"
"W-what?" her eyes widened. Was it true?
She couldn't feel anything. Fear does wonders as an anaesthetic. If it was true, she wouldn't have known. She may have been so caught up with saving her own skin that she had not realized arrows embedding their cruel teeth on her back. She wore chainmail and steel plate armour, so how could the arrows have possibly gone through layers of padding and protection? It could have been bodkin arrow tips.
But she saw how her companions fell limp to the ground.
The arrows were poisoned. How was she still alive?
The nurse told her that the projectiles had pierced through her backpack and quiver. She was unresponsive like a log when they brought her in. the nurse had to cut her leather backpack off and have the craftsman come around to pry off her armour, for the arrowhead was barbed.
There was no way it would come off without tearing flesh along with it.
When she looked in the mirror, her backside had six gauze patches each precariously placed beside her spine.
They did not miss. The backpack blunted the arrow's trajectory.
…
"I-I… don't know. I think it was goblins, I'm not so sure… it all happened so fast," says the female archer to the receptionist at the desk. Guild girl took careful notes of her report. The party of five had left on a quest to find out what had happened to the fjord village up north. It was not surprising if the village was raided by goblins, but what was surprising was that the five steel-ranked adventurers were overrun by the little green monsters. Unless they were fighting inside an enclosed space, then it would be possible - but open area? Goblins have not the skill to fire an arrow with precision from more than twenty yards away. Their bows were of poor quality and the arrows were crooked. And the way that the arrows hit the archer on the back was a sign of a trained marksman.
"And your four companions? Where are they?" Guild girl asked.
Perhaps it was the wrong question. The woman began to tear up, and looked grief-stricken.
"I don't know… I hope they aren't dead..."
"I… I'll put up a request for a search party to look for your friends. I think this might be more than just some ambush."
Guild girl knew just the man for the job. And all she had to do to convince him is send him off on this quest under the pretext of a goblin slaying quest. And it wouldn't be an outright lie - she did say that it might have been goblins.
But there was much to be thought through. Up until now, no party, not a single one, came back missing a team member, let alone return all by herself with a horrifying injury. And goblin reports were popping up on noticeably longer intervals. Goblin slayer himself had not much to do, and resorted to spending more time with Cowgirl in the farm, helping out on domestic chores and doing menial jobs. Now, there was one interesting task at hand.
Goblin slayer strolled into the house, just as he would every day. He did not talk much, and if Guild girl greeted him, he returned it with a quiet nod, and if she was lucky, a soft greeting. That was enough to brighten her day. And she knew just the thing to brighten his up.
"Good morning, Goblin slayer-san," she said with a smile.
"Hello."
"Are you looking for goblin-slaying quests?"
"As usual. Are there any?" says he, scratching the grille of his helm.
Guild girl handed him a newly printed request for the missing four adventurers. She explained that they had gone missing yesterday, while on a quest to find out what had happened to the fjord village up north. Of course, Goblin slayer had asked if it involved goblins. Guild girl nodded, relieved that he would be the one to take on this quest. She had always placed special trust on Goblin slayer. Because she knew that no matter what happens, he would always come back - alive, if not in one piece. That was a relief to her, because she knew he was someone who could be relied upon. Besides, he was one of the few who took goblin threats seriously. Most rookies often overlooked and took goblins lightly, which raised the risks of injury or death due to underestimating their enemy.
"Hey… promise me something."
Goblin slayer looked up from the paper that he was reading and at her. If only he would take off that hideous helmet, then maybe looking at his face rather than a dirty mask would be so much better.
"Yes?"
"Promise me you'll come back," Guild girl said with a smile.
Perhaps it was not too far off to assume that behind his mask, he too, smiled.
"Ok, I promise."
With that, he marched out of the guild house, but not before looking back at Guild girl, who waved him off. He waved back.
Now, to get on with his first proper quest in a week. Should he summon the help of Priestess, High Elf Archer, Dwarf shaman and Lizard priest? Goblin slayer was one to keep to himself and avoid being a burden to other people. Besides, they were all relatively busy; Priestess was in water town, under the tutelage of Sword maiden. She had left to study and improve her magical skills, and she told him that she'd be back in a couple of days. High elf archer was back in the Elven forest, spending time with her family. And Goblin slayer would never, ever interfere with family affairs of other people. To him, pulling her away from her time with family would be sacrilege. Dwarf shaman was nowhere to be seen, presumably back in Svartalfheim, with his Dwarven brothers. Lizard priest had made himself scarce as well in the past few days. But he did not have a couple of days. This was a timed quest, and he did not wish to come and find the rotting corpse of the four adventurers by the time he had gone through with them.
Yes, he would take this quest alone. It would be perilous. But it was always perilous.
Fifty gold coins. A fair prize.
But he was not on about the money.
He had always slain goblins with a passion; to avenge his family and prevent the death of many more. It was not just pure, unadulterated thirst for blood that propelled his blade. No. it was so that children do not have to go through the same sufferings he had gone through when he was a child. Perhaps that was a moral, justifiable reason to kill goblins. Because if he had been doing it all for revenge, then he should have stopped once he had killed 127 of those beasts.
One hundred and twenty-seven died at the hands of those goblins. That includes his only sister, and his village.
An eye for an eye.
But it would only make the world blind.
….
Caecus sat in the stone terrace with his staff, overlooking the small amphitheatre outside the castle walls. Hundreds of Cobalians were watching two men duel each other, with a sword and shield. Both of them were naked.
This was how they had managed to keep the Cobalians from fighting with each other. After all, goblins are still creatures with a thirst for entertainment, satisfied by wine and blood. Allowing games to commence weekly gave the people another way to vent out their frustrations, aside from copulation and murder. And what better way to do that than by letting them watch two humans kill each other?
Caecus himself found entertainment in watching these gladiatorial fights. It was quite stimulating. He was just a goblin, no different from the hundreds of thousands of the same green beasts. But he decided to impose limits and draw the lines. It was bad enough that they were a cruel, doomed race. The best he could do was keep himself and his people from becoming the monsters they were.
One of the men thrust his blade forward, catching his rival by the arm. If he had though he could get away with it, he was wrong. Because as he lunged forward, the other man sent his sword straight into his opponent's guts, and slid it clean to the side.
The victor raised his bloodied arm, as his rival fell to the ground, writhing in pain as his innards drooped out of the gaping incision on his body. The crowd cheered, as he was whisked away back into the dungeons to be treated with wine and water.
"It seemed that the people are satisfied," shaman Papagos said to Caecus, who was beside him.
"No. I do not think so," he shook his head.
"Perhaps not. They are still beasts at heart, and you may not be able to change that."
"They are going to crave for war, soon."
"And will you give it to them?"
Caecus was silent. He contemplated the answer. "Why?"
"Indeed. Why? " the old shaman perused with a wrinkled smile.
"Do you give a thirsty man wine, or water?"
With that, the mysterious sage disappeared.
…
"Write it down, write it down."
This would be the seventh intrusion of venturing human forces into Cobalian territory in the past few months. A Cobalian jotted down the details of the attack on a manuscript. General Scipio kept a watchful eye on his nation's borders. As the sole commander of the cavalry and reconnaissance regiment, he was tasked with keeping an eye out for any possible threat. It was a job that he took seriously and with pride. Caecus praised him as the, "Horseman of the Nation". He was a common Cobalian, just like his Caesar, but he rose from the ranks by exhibiting remarkable skill and prowess in the art of cavalry warfare. His leadership qualities were respectable, and he was the one who emphasized the importance of a communications line based on wolf-riders and cavalry. As he said, without cavalry, battles are without result.
General Scipio, along with all the other Marshals, studied at the military academy at Viridis castle. After six months of intensive training and lessons at the academy, the massacre of Peleus was a morbid memory which was ripe with blunders. Had he been there, had the foolish goblin lord organized the horde into an army, perhaps they could have won. But alas, that was not the case. What's done is done.
"There were five of them, milord. One had managed to get away, but she should be dead by now."
"By now? What do you mean, by now?"
Scipio was a stern disciplinarian. He drilled and trained his riders to their breaking point, and enforced a single, incorrigible motto; "No loose ends". If any of his riders dared spare one victim, he would have that rider tied upside down for a day, and if he was in a particularly jaunty mood, he would have him dragged by his own wolf for a mile.
He simply waved the rider off. No use crying over spilled milk. And if the survivors did come home to tell the tale, perhaps they would teach the lesson not to go into someone else's country without permission. There, goes the hypocrisy. But so far, their raids were designated and barely touched the inner cities.
Scipian riders, as they would be soon called, were swift, deadly mounted archers. During a raid, they are able to kill off dozens of men in a single sweep. Forty riders could utterly wipe out a small village in under a quarter of an hour. Of course, they were without weakness - on foot, they were but much better equipped goblins, not so different from the rest. They possessed greater skill, but a skilled swordsman could still defeat a Cobalian one on one. During raids, they launched their assault swiftly and timely. They raided for three golden reasons; God, Gold and Glory. Although the first one was often interchanged with ' women', and the last one was swapped for 'anything else'.
But they never faced a well armed force head on. By the time the royal cavalry or adventurers arrived on the scene, everything was in ruins. Because they arrived an hour late. And if there were adventurers present in the village under attack, he or she often did not live to tell the tale. Other than that, the Cobalians never went on the offensive, or attempted a capture of a garrisoned town.
Kidnappings were rife. Cobalians placed a high value on scholars, elves and most of all, dwarves. From them, they acquired information which was written down and transcribed by their Cobalian scholars. Valuable knowledge and technological advancements were obtained from these individuals, who inadvertently assisted the Cobala nation on its path to greatness.
But these captives never came back to tell the tale.
They could have been executed after their usefulness had worn off, or they were locked in a secret prison. And if they refused to cooperate, the Cobalians have invented devious torturing techniques to coax them into submission. Even better, no bloodshed required.
Water. Such a versatile tool.
Scouts and cartographers would survey their landscape and draw detailed maps of Cobala, and form the bigger picture by comparing it to the Kingdom. The latter, was to the southeast. Cobala is forested, rugged and a mountainous region in the realm. There are numerous forest clearings and glades, remnants of old villages. Hills were often marked with a pole that could raise a signal in certain cases. Goblin cave entrances are now much more secluded, and numerous decoy booby-trapped caves were created to mislead adventurers. In the north, the sea existed. Sucidus and Prasinus were Cobalian-controlled villages that faced an elongated fjord that led to the sea. These two villages supplied fish and resources. To the south, the Demon lands were situated. Few dared venture into these lands, as this is where the Demon Lord had once resided. More often than not, lost souls would find themselves wandering through the Black forest in Cobalian territory. And more often than not, a shaman's counter-spell was enough to drive these souls back.
…
The goblins rose up against the odds. Among the weak and the small, lions stepped forward from the masses of dogs. Without a lord nor a shaman to enslave them goblins, one of the many stood up and dared defy fate. Even if he was doomed, he was determined to die not to fate, but to die fighting, carving his own destiny.
Inevitably, this would change the realm as we know it, forever.
As one race is on the warpath to fight the entire world.
…
…
…
A.U.
Well… how's that for a whole new different take on the Goblin Slayer universe?
Sorry, it's a rough first-try at writing something about this story.
Yeah. this is crack fiction that will turn the tables around and over.
Goblin revolution? A story where goblins don't get fucked over? Goblin Caesar?
'Cause why the hell not !
Call me crazy, but say, rise of the planets of the Goblins !
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.
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References;
-Cobalus, Latin term for "Goblin". Hence, 'Cobala' and 'Cobalian'.
-taking place after the battle of 'Peleus' (where the goblin lord was killed, in ep12) Peleus is the name of the goblin province formed after the revolution.