Dumblum's Diary

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Dear Diary, I decided to join Dumblumís Waaagh. I put the flyer with informations about the Waaagh below.

Once upon a time when the mountains were still young, you could travel south through the Black Fire Pass and reach "Goblin Market" where the weary traveller found a decent meal and a comfortable bed before the sky turned dark. In the middle of a forest, where the Worlds Edge and the Black Mountains met, it hosted members of all Goblin tribes. Three tribes they were, the Goblins from the plains, the Night Goblins from the mountains and the Forest Goblins from the woods. It was a place of joy and laughter, also a place of trade and business, but above all it was a place of peace and safety. The tribes lived and traded happily with each other.
It was a dark and stormy night when outbreaks of latent psychic energy unmasked all that as an illusion. All Goblins were prohibited to carry weapons openly, so no one could draw a weapon fast enough to bang the shaman on the head before Waaagh energy broke free and wrecked havoc. That night many wives lost their husbands, and many children were orphaned. An endless stream of tears ran through the streets.
The elders had to find a solution, a way to prevent a catastrophe like that happening ever again.
The task so great, the situation so grave, the matter of utter importance the elders rose above themselves. They concentrated all their thoughts, all their efforts on this single problem and after a quarter of an hour their wisdom and knowledge had lead them to the solution.
The shamans would learn to control their energies, they would learn it in a shamans academy, in a far away shamans academy. Their kin and all others of latent psychic powers would follow them. The where was easily decided. On the plains south of the forest. There they would spent their lives studying the magic mysteries. To be sure that they could follow the path of magic enlightenment without disturbance by the unknowing and blind they would be protected by a force of the most trusted warriors of the tribes.
But who to lead them ? Who would be strong and wise enough to lead this force and raise to the task to protect the shamans and guide them in worldly matters ? All the elders would be to humble to accept the honour. When all hope was lost to find someone and the elders nearly accepted the market place to be doomed, a single voice rose, clear as the nightingale on a winter morning, but hard as the ring of a sword unsheathed. Dumblum had spoken and when a Night Goblin speaks, deeds have to follow. So they set out on the first morning of the following month. A group of proud warriors, wise shamans and their beloved. They set out with high hopes, but even before they reached their destination reality showed itís ugly face. Dumblum who volunteered out of responsibility, sense of duty and love for the beautiful daughter of a shaman, realized that she was in reality the son of one of the elders. His world scattered, his heart torn apart, he tried to find forgetfulness in a Waaagh. But like wars are, there is never a war around, when you really need one. The shamans touched by his display of grief and sorrow decided to take action. If Dumblum would lead them they would follow him on the path of Waaagh.