There was a veil settling between the rocky heights of the mountainous region. The night had fallen long ago, but due to the damp fog the full moon couldn't be seen at all. It was nonetheless a great night for the creatures up and about, their senses adapted to the obscurity, and the fortifications accommodating their charge as sentries. By all account they inhabited what look like a proper castle from a respectable household. But, again, these were creatures, not on of the "proper" races. They were goblins, free goblins, not only that but masters of an actual barony.
In-between the mist however something darker than the night seemed to move at rapid pace. Among the defenders, only two seemed to pay attention to it. COntrary to their fellows, these weren't clad in metal armor but clothed in robes and armed with staves, goblin mages, or shamans to be exact. As wielders of strange and terrible powers they knew the nature of what approached. Despite receiveing prior notice, they remained unsettled by the encroaching "thing" that was coming to visit their masters. Regardless, they both headed towards the gatekeepers as one. The first ordered the gate be lifted, and the unaware soldiers obliged without question.
Slowly, the metal gate, which upon closer look had been unevenly restored after something tore through it in a great circle, opened with a sound of rust and the suffering of old castle stones. The dark entity entered. It reached a courtyard where all manner of vegetation had turned to trampled mud, and ramshackle huts and stables completely contrasted with the normal exterior of the fort. There were other goblins therein, more savage, or simply younger. First attracted by the commotion near the entrance they now decided to take steps back upon noticing the blackness that advanced and swallowed whatever it trod on. Even the trained wolves the goblin had prepared in the stables kept silent, not even daring to whine as the darkness's spawn marred their senses in dread.
After what to the onlookers felt like an eternity, the fiend reached the castle proper, a large wooden door in better shape than the first opened on its own and light permeated the foggy night. It did not diminish the dark creature however, merely accentuating its presence and precising it shape. It was apparently a manly form clad in spiked armor, but its black exterior was still difficult to distinguish. It walked forward, ignoring the new defenders of the room. There were candles on the floor and the ceiling, as well as torches against the wall. Those contraption enlightened the guardians' features. They were far larger than their cousins on the outside. Hobgoblins all, with steel-plate armor and proper wargear at their sides. Such a force could conquer a city, and they were all silently standing at attention. But that reverence was not addressed towards the visitor, but to their liege. At long last the blackness stopped, and seemed to diminish. It actually knelt before the throne at the back, and its occupant.
"Goblin King..." Said a cold cavernous voice. "It is... a pleasure to..."
A raised hand by the monstrous master stopped them from continuing on. This castle's master was clad in ragged fur and lavish silk in equal measure, giving them a bloated figure. It was definitely larger than the goblins that served it and older by many measures. Each of its dry fingers wore a ring, most of gold and most presenting a large jewel. A large crown made of bent spikes and strange black orbs adorned its head. It presented a very long goatee and an ebon mask hid part of his upper face. Finally, a large and thick cape served as a definitely comfortable mattress while it extended beyond the throne and down a small flight of stairs into the assembly which the visitor was kneeling from. While a travesty of majesty, it was nonetheless real and respected. The King rested his head on his left hand while he snapped a command with its right. The snap was so strong and the rings were so close-knit that the act made a sound unlike anything the natural world could ever glimpse. A new door opened from the left side of the room from the entrance.
A human figure walked forward escorted by two or the littler goblinkind. She was bald, thin, with one eye missing. Her face had obviously gone through rounds of excruciating ordeal and the remains of a decent beauty was barely perceptible now. She had no nails left, only red stains covered in soot. She wore ragged plain clothes without sleeves and the secrets of her purity were barely respected as is. She advanced towards the throne, taking careful measure not to step on the King's giant cape while making sure to stand close enough to him. Once more, the ugly sound resonated in the hall. The snapping fingers acted like a whip against the girl who began reciting the text she had no doubt been tortured into practicing:
"Mine is this human Hers is the voice of her King. Respect thee the proper decorum and let our business be concluded in cordiality." she said, completely destroying her value as a person for the sake of survival. She was apparently a tool for the goblin's court. To use a translator for such a summit was no doubt yet another trope borrowed from some of the developed courts the King had spied on in his wise and secret reign. It certainly had success among the hobgoblins who grumbled and nodded in awe of their King's nobleness. In an almost imperceptible manner, the dark spectre voiced something that resembled a sigh. It went unnoticed thankfully and he bowed his foggy form deeper than before, his formless armored limbs equating an eagle spreading his wings.
"Noble Sire... May I share the words... of our Master?" he nobly said. At which point his host grumbled. The King's sounds were clear but odiously deformed. It seemed to weld itself with the tumorous growths on his neck as they griped into every vowels and prolonged the consonants more than they should be. Like grating metal against a necklace of teeth. Thankfully, those first words were short:
"Thou may speak." translated the servant girl.
"I come bearing tidings... I come bearing warnings... The Demon Lord speaks. I bid you listen..." politely exposed the dark figure. The King's sighed a drastically more noticeable sigh. With a wave of his regal hand and more wretched noises of the throat he called for the urchin to serve her purpose more accurately.
"Enough pleasantries. Share thy words already, Knight." she insisted. "Share the words of mine and your Lord."
"Long has our Lord... Waited for a sign... A weakness... An entry From which to launch... An assault..." the figure appeared to lift its head. "Your territory... Was to be that pillar... However... In the last few years... No greater sign... Was seen... There is stagnancy... And our Lord loses patience..."
With an intensity that could cast a gust of wind, the monarch's left eyebrow raised itself, thicker than a man's scalp and expressing just as much dread. He switched position, now bending forward. and took great care to slowly speak so the translation could keep up as he spoke further:
"My realm's tendrils have dug deep into the territories of the accursed Enemies. Despite its position and mine opposition, I prevailed. But mine kingdom is still limited and mine choices have all led to the prosperity of my people. And of course, led to the expansion of our Liege's will." To this, the Dark Knight acquiesced with a wide nod, allowing the speech to continue: "There is no fault in mine service. Something I cannot say for you, Ethereal Knight. The forces I deigned share with that spinstress of yours were squandered. All gone and dead under a tower's rubble outside my domain by no fault of mine. So thou shalt not speak of disappointment, for there is none to find in mine charge."
"It is true... We misused... Your gracious gifts... Squandered your gesture... As you say... A goodwill wasted..." The King's raised eyebrow collapsed, and the corners of his cleft lips arose, signaling a disgusting form of pleasure. Truly deference and honesty were prized behaviors to adopt in front of him. But the Dark Knight wasn't finished.
"Nonetheless... Warnings must be given... Your failure... Has been noticed..." Explained the Knight. This time the king spit more than he snarled his next question:
"Mine failures?" repeated the tortured woman, attempting to convey the anger in the Goblin's tone. "Thou darest speak of failure after mine forewarning!?"
"Despite your influence... Despite your old victory... There remains a Successor... To your Throne... One Human escaped your wrath..." Exposed the shade.
"Impossible." said the girl, this time without prior notice of her King. But he seemed not to mind and merely added more to her contesting the visitor's claim: "Mine agents were thorough. Not even the great cities of the many Races were enough to shield the dynasty from my ambitions. There is no Heir."
"Very possible... O King... The House lives... There is one Heir... And our sources say... It aims to return... And take this realm back... Knowing this... Our Lord wishes... You do better... Should you fail to act... You will lose Our Lord's favor..."
"If what thou shared be true. I shall act on it." immediately parried the King, the girl synchronizing with it perfectly.
"See that you do... And be sure it is done... Lest one more capable... Do the deed..."
A loud crunching noise echoed. The right side of the throne had turned to timber under the Great Goblin's grip. On his aged face was pure wrath. Now a myriad of unpleasant guttural sounds surged violently. His translator shuddered with each aberrant word as if each was a slap on her back. But still she fulfilled her purpose as best she could:
"Do not insult me, shade! Do not waste the precious time you have in my presence with vain threats and pesky reprimand! T-the Demon Lord may be a great ruler. But I remain King! MY forces are MINE to command and this deed will be done according to MY will!" She howled, desperate to emote her liege's rage and avoid punishment. Faced with this response, the Death Knight remained silent, his shape twisting and turning the same way it had since his arrival. However, one could notice when brought his hand before his mouth what could be perceived as a cough. More attentive than ever, the King devoured this small hint of weakness with great pleasure. Only then did the Demon Lord's envoy speak once more:
"You speak true... And so did I... Be that as it may... Noble Sire... A threat rises to the South... To let it fester... Is a grave fault." Insisted the shade.
"That Human will only survive as long as I wish it! All is in my grasp. Tell the Demon Lord thusly!" scoffed the King and equally did the girl.
"So you say... Noble Sire... Yet do be forewarned... Should you fail again... Your kingly title... Will avail you no protection..." With those final words the shade lifted itself on what counts as its feet, turned back, and headed to the exit. Once he passed the gate, a great wind closed the large doors and half of the hall's candles were blown into fuming smoke. In spite of that the room seemed to have regained some of its warmth. There was a little bit of confusion among the goblin warriors, but as immature as goblins can be, none were stupid enough to voice anything in front of the others or their King. He however chose to wave his assembled hobgoblins away. At once they began to scatter, leaving the King and his servants behind, including the girl whose knees had finally succumbed to the pressure. She did not fall on the cape thankfully enough. But a snap of fingers made her freeze and stand at attention once more. A cold sweat dripped on her cheek as she looked forward, not daring to look her master in the eyes.
"You stuttered, sow." he said, in the Common Tongue this time. "You were my voice and you still stuttered twice. Worse still you spoke out of turn. I don't need to tell you what that means do I?" The meager amount of heat that remained left the girl's face. A torrent of tears she would have never guessed remained flowed out her twitching eyes. She turned towards him with great tardiness:
"P-Please sire. I-I-I'll be good. I'll do good." she begged.
"I think some personal attention is in order." he added callously. With a differently pitched twitch of his crooked fingers, two dark-cloaked goblin fell from the ceiling with no noise to accompany their landing. The King pointed at the object of his disappointment and ordered in his true tongue. "Take her to my chamber! On the chair! And prepare my tools!"
"No. Nononononono I'll be good. I'll be good I'll be good I'll be good I'll be..." she begged as the merciless assassins led her back into the darkness she appeared from. The two little goblins she had come with chose to accompany her as well with a trot. Her weak wails soon dissipated after they closed the door,, leaving the King seemingly alone. He changed positions and put more of his long cape against his crooked back. He stretched his malformed limbs, yawned a misty breath that could fill a room, and finally scratched a blister on the side of his cheek that exploded with a color somehow more healthy-looking than his natural skin shade. The Goblin King's order of business was now three-fold. First, he had an Heir to find down south. Second he needed to eat something juicy to moisten his tired throat. Thirdly, he would find the most painful way to remove the wench's last eye. With a wide smile of his sharp teeth, he concluded he could certainly combine the last two goals post-haste. Confidently, he snapped his fingers one more time.