Return of the Witch King
Chapter 12

Goblin Parokh was the first mage to approach the tent. The Witch King did not even bother hiding his amusement at the cautious look on his green face. It was such care that, to his mind, one had to exhibit when approaching a dragon of Smaug's reputation.

Fiercely scratching his head with a four clawed hand, the goblin carefully pondered the question conveyed by the Nazgul.

"Oh yes, my Lord, and my Lord Dragon," the goblin officer opened his sharp mouth into a smile that was likely ingratiating for his kind. "We are indeed familiar with demon bindings. We have... borrowed some ideas from the Tree Ants who never objected in the past to sharing their tales down.

We have also claimed authority over the scrolls we conquered during our 100 year old war with the Orcs.

There are many different approaches. The Tree Ants had a rather simplistic if workable approach of capturing a demon inside of a tree bark, and isolating the tree from the forest with special spells.

The Orcs, well, their species was always so enchanted with the brutality of wars," the goblin qualified his explanation with a contemptuous movement of his head upward, that for goblins seemed to denote superiority.

"Their warlocks made a binding into an axe made out of strange metals...I have not seen such metals named in other scrolls so either they are rare, or the Orcs, being idiotic as usual, misnamed their metals. I wouldn't put it past them if that does not offend your Excellencies.

I am sure the elves ought to have some refined form of binding, but we goblins always believed in a good gold encrusted goblet. There is an ode dedicated to an ancient goblin god Goberanch.
Nobody believes in him anymore, but there used to be ritual drinks and dances in his honor. The dance had some elements of magic to it, because it served as a precursor to a binding.

I am not entirely clear on the details, but after the dance was over, the high priest of Goberanch would place binding Runes over a well chosen goblet. Then the goblet would be stored in a specially sealed treasury. The scroll does not mention what seals were used, or the nature of the demons involved or if the demons ever escaped, if it pleases your Excellencies," Parokh politely bowed, signaling his readiness to answer more questions now that his explanation was concluded.

"The goblet binding sounds the safest, but obviously won't be workable if we have no idea of the way it was done," Smaug complained. "The tree folk, they are aware of how to bind the thing in a tree? It isn't particularly the best way to go about it, as wood can be more easily destroyed which would release the thing again, but if we could adapt their methods to the goblet," he mused.

The goblin officer was not fully sure if the great dragon was asking him or his liege lord, but learned over the course of his service to attend to every possibility and make as few mistakes as possible.

"The Tree Ants of the past were crafty. They have found a way to scarifice the essence of their older members, who were already close to dying, and use it to reinforce the treebark multiple times. From inside and outside alike. They would even ensure that no flies lended on the said tree, and no birds. I am not sure if they can still use the method, since they are less sociable in our days, and do not disclose their secrets," the goblin respectfully explained.
Gaze returning to the goblin he asked, "Why did the god of which you spoke lose his worship?"
For some odd reason, the dragon found this interesting in spite of the pressing situation of the demon.

While his previous answers were thorough and neutral in tone, the goblin found himself enjoying a question of his own culture the most. His neutral and somewhat dull tone suddenly changed, the memory of a bard's tale from childhood, making his words come to life.

"It was the time of the first great war, my Lord. Between the Orcs and the goblins. We were smarter of course, but they were more numerous. Our magic, well, we believed it to be superior, but I suspect it was closer to even. We thought we had a chance, because the god Goberanch was on our side.

Or so we were promised by his high priest, Tornak the Cursed. Folling the priests commands, we offered multiple sacrifices to Goberanch, of Easterling humans, and the outcasts of Arnor, of silver fur foxes and the flesh of the pink worm that lived under the mountain of the plain of Gorloth.

We brought our gold, and spilled the best of wine, alongside the required blood. And yet, the great god never came. Instead, we had to face some stranger Orc breeds we have never seen before.

The massive Olog Hai who were fierce enough to destroy Trolls and Tree Ants. The winged beasts who were either Orcs themselves or served as their allies.

All the goblin tribes, united under the dominion of Gargeroth the Great, were scattered then, and the goblins never regained their full power. We managed to win this war as well, but with a great effort, and without any assistance from Goberanch.

After that, it was agreed to strike his name out of the sacred pantheon. My fellow mages referred to him henceforth as Goberanch the Deceiver, when they referred to him at all, which was not as frequent. It is rumored that a lost tribe of goblins still worships the god somewhere under mountain, but I have not seen any evidence to the claim, my Lord Dragon," the goblin politely bowed, deciding that no token of respect would be wasted when talking to the legendary Smaug.

"Ah well then," Smaug rumbled. "Gods are rarely useful in war, I hear. They'd have to bother and you know..." He chuckled. "Well obviously you don't. It is a pity for perhaps a god would know how best to handle a demon."

Turning his fiery gaze back to the witch king the dragon sighed. "If we're attempting a binding with incomplete information that we add to with guess work, we could get ourselves killed. Bindings work well when one knows exactly but when one does not, one can...well death is the least of one's worries," he said grimly. So we must handle this another way."

"Excellent, what is another way then? Trying to deal with the demon, learn about its nature and only then strike," the Witch King of Angmar wondered, bemused.

Smaug hesitated, obviously trepidations about his next words. "Though I dislike the concept, perhaps you should send someone relatively intelligent who you can also do without if anything untoward befalls them to parlay with the demon. To see what it wants," he said.

Smaug hated asking anyone what they wanted when he was king of...well not the mountain anymore but of the air, earth, and sea when he was within any of them. It was difficult. But demons were a foreign dangerous species and most things, where they were concerned, did not always apply.

The Witch King peered at the goblin officer, not realizing how uncomfortable he made him. His kind was surely more suitable than dwarves, Orcs, Elves, Trolls and most of the mages in the camp. Then an even better idea occurred to him, as the Witch King thoughtfully turned towards the dragon once more, allowing Parokh to breathe with relief.

"Of all the races serving me now, there is probably no better than my own brethren. Hardest to vanquish or subjugate, most challenging to ferret out the contents of their mind. If you think it best to negotiate with the demon and keep our options intact, I shall send for my second in command, Achea.

I normally send her out as a hidden spy, to watch from a distance as my decoy representative holds the enemy's focus, but I am guessing the demon would see through all her spells and would be suspicious of an unauthorized presence in its domain. I think Achea's talents, and her personal loyalty to me over any other could be useful. Unless, my fellow Nazgul happen to be in greater danger when dealing with a demon than somebody else. What think you, dear Smaug," the Witch King of Angmar wondered, his lips curving into a semi satisfied smile.

Your reasoning is sound. In truth there is no way to know if it is good, however, until attempted. Your lot, no matter how strong, are still in possession of your souls, and if my vague recallection is correct, demons can feast on anyone's soul not a demon themselves. So indeed, did this demon wish to end even your second, it could be done," Smaug said gravely.

"We may as well get it over with and find out, though," he said with a heavy sigh, beginning to hate this entire thing more and more.