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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 it’s 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. |
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