The long-awaited story returns! I'll start with the introduction post from the LMB topic.
I'm writing a story, as evidenced by the title of this topic. It is based off of my Kingdoms Roleplay characters and will chronicle everything from their childhoods to the end of the roleplay, and more. The prologue will be posted in the near future, and new chapters will arrive on irregular intervals. Constructive criticism is certainly appreciated, but please don't clog up the topic. I want the story to be as easy to read as possible. I will also be posting Author's Notes to allow the reader to learn information that wouldn't be conveyed through the story.
If you're an new reader, welcome! I hope you enjoy it. If you're an old reader, welcome back! I hope you enjoy it too, but if you didn't you probably wouldn't be here. I won't get to the new chapters for a while, but in the meantime you can read some old ones.
That's it for the introduction. I have two hundred and thirty-seven chapters to post, plus the prologue, so we'd best get a move on. Expect one or two chapters this weekend.
-last edited on Mar 11, 2017 16:25:59 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 11, 2017 16:25:26 GMT
Prologue
Roaring flames devoured the little wooden hut, smoke pouring into the inky black night sky. Shouting and screaming could be heard, but soon they stopped, the crackling flames the only sound in the air. By the light of the fire, the silhouette of a goblin was visible, observing from atop a nearby hill. At four feet tall, he was taller than average, and his long, gray hair was tied back behind his long, pointed ears. His green hands were folded behind his back, a tarnished, metal ring on one hand, and an air of power seemed to permeate from him. He was the chief of his clan, firm but kind, and well-respected. Another goblin clambered up the hill to join him. This one was shorter, but heavily muscled, wearing a thick chest plate and a pointed helmet. His name was Skorj, and he was the clan’s warlord. “The traitor is smashed, sir, and the human woman too,” he said in a quiet, hissing voice.
“Smashed?” came the reply, “They were supposed to be captured, not smashed. Our relations with the humans are strained enough as it is.”
“Sir, we had no choice. They fought against us. We had to fight back.”
“And the baby? Did you smash him, too?”
“No, sir. That’s why I’m here. We wanted to get your orders.”
“My orders?” he thought for a minute, “My orders are to take the baby with us. Give it a home. His father’s name was Skar. He shall be Skrag”
“With who, sir? Who will take this… this half-breed?”
“With you. You took his parents, so you can take care of him.”
“But, sir, I already have a son of my own.”
“Good. Then he will have a brother.” Skorj knew the conversation was over, however unpleasant he might find the results, and the two goblins walked back down the hill as the fire died down, ashes the only remainder of the little house.
The long-awaited story returns! I'll start with the introduction post from the LMB topic.
I'm writing a story, as evidenced by the title of this topic. It is based off of my Kingdoms Roleplay characters and will chronicle everything from their childhoods to the end of the roleplay, and more. The prologue will be posted in the near future, and new chapters will arrive on irregular intervals. Constructive criticism is certainly appreciated, but please don't clog up the topic. I want the story to be as easy to read as possible. I will also be posting Author's Notes to allow the reader to learn information that wouldn't be conveyed through the story.
If you're an new reader, welcome! I hope you enjoy it. If you're an old reader, welcome back! I hope you enjoy it too, but if you didn't you probably wouldn't be here. I won't get to the new chapters for a while, but in the meantime you can read some old ones.
That's it for the introduction. I have two hundred and thirty-seven chapters to post, plus the prologue, so we'd best get a move on. Expect one or two chapters this weekend.
-last edited on Mar 12, 2017 17:37:46 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 12, 2017 17:37:25 GMT
Chapter 1
The chief was smashed. It hadn’t come as a big surprise. He had been quite old, and, in the past few months, he had gotten sick many times. The only questions had been when he would pass away, and, of course, who would be his successor. That was why today the whole tribe had gathered to hear the shaman announce who would be their new leader. In the crowd, among the green faces, one stood out. Like the others, it was green, and the owner had pointed ears and black hair, but there was something different about it. The features were slightly different, less angular, and the green of his face was paler and nearly sickly-looking. He was by no means the tallest there, but he was certainly taller than any other his age. A middle aged female and a young male stood next to him, though nobody was within a few inches, and few would ever wish to be. On a high ledge that functioned as a stage stood the shaman, who had only recently gotten his position, and carried a gnarled, wooden staff. Alongside him was a muscled, grim warrior in a chest plate and helmet- Skorj, the warlord. The shaman held out his hand, inside which was a tarnished ring.
“It is time to announce the next wearer of this ancient ring,” the shaman said in a loud, clear voice, “Through visions I have been shown the face of our next chief.” He paused for effect, knowing the audience was eager to hear what he had to say. “Your new leader shall be… Gorle.”
The crowd cheered as an averagely built goblin strode up on to the stage, smiling with his pointy teeth. In all of the audience, only two did not appear too pleased. One was the misfit, the half-breed, and the other was the Warlord Skorj, who wore a fake smile as he greeted Gorle.
Wow. With these wide boxes, the chapters look so much shorter.
-last edited on Mar 13, 2017 22:27:53 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 13, 2017 22:27:32 GMT
Chapter 2
Skrag sat in the corner, thinking, which he did often. He had no friends, and the other goblins rarely conversed with him, unless they had no choice. With Gorle as their new chief, things would certainly be different, and not in a good way. The old chief had convinced the clan to take him in fourteen years ago, but Gorle lacked much of his predecessor’s kindness and compassion, though he did have the same forcefulness and air of power. Like many of the goblins in the tribe, Gorle had a strong dislike for humans and those who associated with them. If Skrag thought things had been bad for him before, they were about to get much worse.
Meanwhile, in the same house, someone else was thinking about the new chief. Skorj paced around the room, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. Thoughts raced through his mind. He should have been chosen- not Gorle, him! His anger was such that he did not even realize how ridiculous his thoughts were. Already being the warlord, he could hardly be the chief, too. It was both illegal and impossible- the roles had separate duties, and both took a good deal of time. Blinded as he was, though, this realization never came to him. Instead his mind began forming a plan. It was a horrible, twisted plan, but Skorj’s sickened mind thought of it as nothing less than genius. He would be able to get rid of the two nuisances in his life in one, sweeping blow. Then, he would be the chief and he would be free from the burden that had plagued him for fourteen years.
Gorle, too, was thinking about that burden. The half-breed did not belong, and, as the new chief, he thought if best to find a way to get rid of him. Smugly, he thought about how weak the old chief must have been to allow that creature into their home. He rubbed his new ring thoughtfully. He was not weak- he was strong- and he would get rid of Skrag.
-last edited on Mar 14, 2017 20:38:16 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 14, 2017 20:37:55 GMT
Chapter 3
The early morning sun shone in through the hole in the roof, signaling the start of a new day and awakening Skrag from his slumber. As he did every day, he immediately sprang to his feet before grabbing a meal, or, more accurately, hunting for one. Though Skorj and his family had taken him in, they had effectively stopped caring for him around the time of his twelfth birthday. He lived in a small, run-down hut not too far from the house. It contained a bed, a table, a chair, and a wooden box in which he kept his belongings- a bow, some arrows in a quiver, two daggers, any food he had left over from previous meals, and miscellaneous other belongings. There were also several spiders living in the hut. Skrag had originally intended to remove them, but he had grown accustomed to their company, and, on occasion, he would have short, one-sided conversations with the spiders.
Soon Skrag was out hunting for his breakfast. He usually caught small game, and paired the meat with any fruits or vegetables no one else wished to eat. It made for a surprisingly well-balanced diet. At this time of morning very few other goblins were out, and he could enjoy the beauty and peacefulness of the mountains.
Today, though, he was not the only goblin awake in the mountains. Skorj had gotten little sleep the previous night, his mind focused on what he would do to eliminate Gorle and Skrag. He had gotten up even before Skrag, and was now pacing around the room, trying to figure out the details of his plan. The plan had come to him in a feverish dream, and, if it worked, he would have everything he wanted. First, he would smash Gorle, and then he would frame Skrag. That part wouldn’t be too hard- if a horrible event like that were to happen, most of the goblins in the tribe would look immediately to the half-breed.
-last edited on Mar 15, 2017 21:09:36 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 15, 2017 21:06:47 GMT
Chapter 4
Gorle was in his new office. As the chief, he had a large room from which he could work in peace. With him was his friend, advisor, and deputy Trok. He was still thinking about Skrag. The chief had already ruled out smashing him- after all, he was no monster, and he could see no great advantage that would come with doing so. Instead, he planned on getting him banished. It was certainly preferable to being smashed, and he was sure he could find a justifiable reason to do so. Now he just had to find that reason. “Trok,” he ordered, “I want you to find as much information on Skrag as possible. Talk to his family, take a look at his belongings, and even watch him a little. Make sure he does not know what you are doing, though. We must not let him know what we are doing.”
“Of course, sir. Whatever you want,” the thin, long-nosed goblin replied. He would do almost anything to help his friend, even if he wasn’t able to have him smashed with a few words and the proper reasoning. “When would you like me to start?”
“Right away would be good. I want this done as soon as possible so I can move on to other business. Make sure to report in as soon as you find anything.”
“Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir,” Trok strolled out of the building with a small smile on his face. This would be fun.
Meanwhile, Skrag had just finished a well-earned breakfast. Most of the other goblins had large families, so they preferred to hunt larger animals. This left plenty of smaller animals for Skrag to catch. Years of hunting had sharpened his reflexes and senses. He was thin, but stronger than he looked, and probably stronger than he knew. Though the other goblins mocked him, he would likely be as good as most in battle, and better than many. Many of the few fights he lost were against Skirj, Skorj’s son, who always seemed to get the better of him.
-last edited on Mar 16, 2017 20:16:54 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 16, 2017 20:16:04 GMT
Chapter 5
The first place Trok went was the home of Skorj and his family. It was larger than most goblins’ residence, as Skorj’s position as warlord allowed him to live more luxuriously. Knocking on the door, he was greeted by a young goblin, about fifteen years old, and unsmiling. “What do you want?” he asked, in a surly tone.
“I am here to inquire about Skrag,” Trok replied, wiping the smile from his face as he looked at the boy.
Skirj sneered in reply, “He doesn’t live here anymore. He has his own hut.” He pointed to the left of the house, where Trok could see a small, disheveled, building.
“I know that,” Trok growled, “I just have a few questions to ask. Now, if you’ll let me in, I would like to speak with your father.”
Skorj immediately came up behind his son. He had been considering his plan further, and, hearing the visitor, had emerged to confront him. Now he saw that it was Trok. Skorj saw Trok as a foolish servant, too willing to obey Gorle’s commands. He sighed, “What do you want?”
Trok exhaled in relief. Finally, this was someone he could talk to. He didn’t detect the slight hostility in the warlord’s voice. “I have a few questions about Skrag, so, if you wouldn’t mind, May I step in to ask them?” Before Skorj answered, he added, “Yes, I know he doesn’t live here. I came to talk to you.”
“Why do you need to ask about him?” Skorj asked, realizing that this might turn into quite a long conversation.
“That,” Trok explained, with a flicker of a smile, “Is official, executive business.”
Skorj smiled back with pointy teeth, “What a coincidence, then, that I have official, executive power.” What a fool, he thought to himself.
Trok hadn’t realized that until now, and all traces of a smile fell from his green face. “In that case, why don’t you let me inside so I can tell you what it is?”
Skorj knew he still had the upper hand for now. He opened the door fully, gesturing for Trok to enter and Skirj to take his leave, “Of course. Why don’t we head to my office?”
Nearly an hour later, the two emerged, both content, though still unsmiling. “It was good conducting business with you,” Trok said in his most diplomatic tone.
“Of course,” the warlord smoothly replied, “We will have to speak again some other time.”
As Trok left, the smile returned to his face as he thought of how pleased the chieftain would be. He never thought for a second about how forthcoming Skorj had been with the information, or how his mannerisms brightened immediately after the situation was explained.
Meanwhile, the gears were once again turning in the insidious warlord’s mind. With the information he now had, his plan would be even easier than before. Soon, very soon, he would be chieftain and the rest of the tribe would bow before him.
-last edited on Mar 17, 2017 20:20:39 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 17, 2017 20:20:19 GMT
Chapter 6
It was the next day that Chief Gorle called a meeting of the tribe. Rumors abounded as to the purpose of the gathering, but very few even got close to the truth.
The goblin legal process was surprisingly complicated. Though each of the three leaders generally made the final decisions in each of their respective areas, certain decisions had to be made unanimously by the three of them. This applied to such matters as banishment, certain other punishments, and going to war, among other things. They also had to be sure that the majority of citizens backed the decision, otherwise rebellion could easily ensue, and one or more leaders could be deposed or smashed. Goblins were notorious for their tendency to rebel if they felt even the slightest bit wronged. Generally, evidence or opinions would be presented, and a short debate would follow, after which a vote was taken. If all three voted “for”, they would enact whatever was being voted on. If not, it was denied. It might be contested at a later point, but the matter was usually dropped.
In this case, the matter was whether or not Skrag would be banished, which Gorle soon announced in a booming voice. Much shouting followed, before the crowd was quieted. Skrag, for one, was not too surprised, considering the new chief’s viewpoint. Frankly, he was glad to know that the chief didn’t want him smashed. He did notice, though, that the space between him and everyone else was even wider than usual. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly realized the chief was still talking, and brought his attention back to the matter at hand.
-last edited on Mar 18, 2017 18:51:21 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 18, 2017 18:51:06 GMT
Chapter 7
“-father betrayed our tribe by falling for the vile tricks of a human female.” He spit the last few words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. “The old chief was far too lenient, accepting this half-breed into our tribe to lurk among us. Now we have a new chief, and it is time for a change.” He finished speaking and slunk to his seat to clamorous applause. He had hoped more goblins would be cheering, but those who did cheered quite loudly. His part was done. Now it was Skorj’s turn the present the evidence and information against him. The majority of the goblins would have no problem with banishing Skrag, but the Shaman, young as he was, had become good friends with the old chief while he still lived, and shared many of the same opinions. He did not think he would take too much convincing- he was weak, and the crowd would motivate him to side with his colleagues, but something should be shown to validate the claim.
As Gorle’s mind buzzed with thoughts, so did Skorj’s. He took his time rising and moving forward, his mind still focused on his master plan. He reached the edge of the stage and opened his mouth, “It has come to my attention that this outsider has been preying on our game, without an official hunting party. This crime, of course, cannot be left unpunished, and so, when combined with the evidence our great chief has already laid before our feet, I propose that we banish this half-breed.” The “crime” that Skrag had committed was generally ignored by the tribe, but, in this instance, they met it with yet more cheers. Now, it was time for the leaders to converse.
They spoke in whispers for many minutes, the crowd eagerly watching in anticipation. When the heads were finally raised, Gorle rose from his seat, “Let the voting as to the banishment of Skrag commence!”
-last edited on Mar 19, 2017 17:46:31 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 19, 2017 17:46:13 GMT
Chapter 8
Gorle returned to his seat, straining a little to keep a smile from showing on his face. He knew what the results would be, and he knew that Skrag knew too.
Skrag did know- he waited tensely for the inevitable, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“All opposed!” Gorle shouted. A few whispers circulated the room. “All in favor!” Skrag opened his eyes to see three hands raised on the stage. It was done. The whispers were louder this time, but few seemed to be surprised. Everyone knew that would be the eventual result. A shiver ran down Skrag’s back as Skorj locked eyes with him, a sickening smile on his face. Gorle rose once again, as if he needed to confirm what all had seen, “He will leave at midday tomorrow, never to return to our tribe.” He emphasized the word “our”, and, this time, he did not force away his smile. He scanned the crowd for Skrag, interested in the look that might be on his face, but the half-breed was gone. Of course, Gorle thought to himself, he’ll want to collect his belongings.
That was, in fact, what he was doing. Immediately after the chief said his final piece, he had left the area. There was no need for him to be there anymore. Now he was in his hovel, piecing together his belongings. He would certainly need his bow, arrows, and dagger, along with what remained of his food. What clothes he had- one or two sets of simple, threadbare shirts and pants, and a winter cloak- went into his pack as well. The last item to be added was his notebook, complete with a single charcoal pencil. That was where he took notes, of course, but also where he practiced writing, and communicated anything he felt needed to be shared- any inner thoughts and feelings that he had no one to convey to, other than the spiders. He would miss the spiders- they could be quite a nuisance, but they were the only living creatures he had to talk to.
-last edited on Mar 20, 2017 22:36:12 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 20, 2017 22:34:05 GMT
Chapter 9
As usual, Skrag woke with the crack of dawn. Today, however, he felt it would not be in his best interests to go hunting- he could look for something once he was out of the goblins’ territory. Left with nothing to do, Skrag decided to check his bag, making sure it was ready to go. Soon, he noticed something wrong. There was only one knife in the bag- he had two. After several minutes of searching, he gave up, figuring he must have misplaced it. He could replace it easily enough, anyway.
Now that he really was ready, Skrag decided to take a walk to pass the time. There were still several hours before he had to leave. Leaving his hut, he spotted something odd- Skorj was quietly opening the door to his own home, entering it like he had something to hide. Skrag found this odd, as Skorj never woke as early as this. He dismissed it, however, and began his walk in the fresh air of the mountains.
It was another hour before the returned, energized, but sad. Somewhere during that walk he had realized he was never coming back here. His home, his birthplace, the only civilization he had ever known was leaving his life for good, along with everyone he had ever met, spoken to, or even seen in passing. The minute he reached the edge of the tribe, he could tell something was wrong- everything was too quiet, to somber, and a strange smell was in the air. Soon, he found out what it was. The entire tribe was gathered around something in the center of the town. Squinting through the crowd, he saw that it was a motionless goblin, and when he saw Trok kneeling on the ground, his hands in his face, he realized who it was- the chief was smashed.
As usual, Skrag woke with the crack of dawn. Today, however, he felt it would not be in his best interests to go hunting- he could look for something once he was out of the goblins’ territory. Left with nothing to do, Skrag decided to check his bag, making sure it was ready to go. Soon, he noticed something wrong. There was only one knife in the bag- he had two. After several minutes of searching, he gave up, figuring he must have misplaced it. He could replace it easily enough, anyway.
Now that he really was ready, Skrag decided to take a walk to pass the time. There were still several hours before he had to leave. Leaving his hut, he spotted something odd- Skorj was quietly opening the door to his own home, entering it like he had something to hide. Skrag found this odd, as Skorj never woke as early as this. He dismissed it, however, and began his walk in the fresh air of the mountains.
It was another hour before the returned, energized, but sad. Somewhere during that walk he had realized he was never coming back here. His home, his birthplace, the only civilization he had ever known was leaving his life for good, along with everyone he had ever met, spoken to, or even seen in passing. The minute he reached the edge of the tribe, he could tell something was wrong- everything was too quiet, to somber, and a strange smell was in the air. Soon, he found out what it was. The entire tribe was gathered around something in the center of the town. Squinting through the crowd, he saw that it was a motionless goblin, and when he saw Trok kneeling on the ground, his hands in his face, he realized who it was- the chief was smashed.
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As usual, Skrag woke with the crack of dawn. Today, however, he felt it would not be in his best interests to go hunting- he could look for something once he was out of the goblins’ territory. Left with nothing to do, Skrag decided to check his bag, making sure it was ready to go. Soon, he noticed something wrong. There was only one knife in the bag- he had two. After several minutes of searching, he gave up, figuring he must have misplaced it. He could replace it easily enough, anyway.
Now that he really was ready, Skrag decided to take a walk to pass the time. There were still several hours before he had to leave. Leaving his hut, he spotted something odd- Skorj was quietly opening the door to his own home, entering it like he had something to hide. Skrag found this odd, as Skorj never woke as early as this. He dismissed it, however, and began his walk in the fresh air of the mountains.
It was another hour before the returned, energized, but sad. Somewhere during that walk he had realized he was never coming back here. His home, his birthplace, the only civilization he had ever known was leaving his life for good, along with everyone he had ever met, spoken to, or even seen in passing. The minute he reached the edge of the tribe, he could tell something was wrong- everything was too quiet, to somber, and a strange smell was in the air. Soon, he found out what it was. The entire tribe was gathered around something in the center of the town. Squinting through the crowd, he saw that it was a motionless goblin, and when he saw Trok kneeling on the ground, his hands in his face, he realized who it was- the chief was smashed.
-last edited on Mar 21, 2017 21:24:26 GMT by RuleJJ
Post by RuleJJ on Mar 21, 2017 21:24:05 GMT
Chapter 10
Early that morning- well before dawn, even- Skorj had woken from his slumber to enact his plan. He had snuck out of his own impressive house, and into Skrag’s meager one. There he had snatched Skrag’s missing dagger from his pack and returned everything to exactly the way it was before. Then he had slunk into Gorle’s house, the grandest of all those in the tribe and smashed him. He woke the chief up just so the warlord’s face would be the last thing he saw, and then he struck. Quickly, he returned home just after dawn, where Skrag saw him returning to his home. When Trok, bringing the chief his breakfast, saw what had happened, he immediately rang the alarm, waking the whole tribe.
Since Skrag had just been punished by the late Gorle, and since he always woke early, the weapon was his, and he was now mysteriously absent, all had come to the conclusion that it was he who had committed the insidious deed. Now he had returned to the tribe. None understood why he would return to the site of his supposed crime, but most were angry or sad, and all felt a duty to their chief. Skorj raised the knife into the air, and gave the order to give chase. Nobody saw the smile that bloomed on his face immediately afterwards.
When Skrag saw his knife, he realized- for the most part- what must have happened. As the tribe gave chase, he was already running as fast as he could, barreling away in a desperate attempt to escape the mob. Branches flew past his face and roots past his feet as he struggled to get far enough away that he would no longer be pursued. Many of his pursuers gave up before long, figuring someone else would handle it, but others flew wildly after their prey, only focusing on one thing- he had to be punished. Skirj was among the fastest of the pursuers and soon began to gain on Skrag, his face frozen in grim determination.
