A short creature hobbled towards a large wooden door.

The creature was completely covered with a raven black cloak, it’s neck adorned with a crude metal medallion.

The fingers of the creature fitted with polished but still clumsily made iron rings, the lack of care and passion clearly exposed by the misshapen design and lack of anything resembling an engraving short of scratch marks and dents from mishandling.

Three knocks.

The creature waits for a response, after receiving none it proceeds to repeat the previous actions, hoping to garner a reaction from whomever is currently inside.

“You May enter.”

A booming voice acknowledges the creatures effort in trying to direct its attention towards itself.

The creature lowers its hood before placing a sickly hand on the cold handle belonging to the door, with the black hood down its face is distinctly visible. An old, withering goblin is revealed. Appearing wise yet frail he takes a deep breath and begins pushing the large door open, on the other side was a tall but porcine goblin, easily weighting four times the old goblins weight.

The large goblin was surrounded with guards wearing enough metal armour to protect their vital points while still allowing for a wide range of movement, the old goblin gave a respectful nod towards the armoured guards before kneeling in front of the large goblin.

“Master Lurx, it isn’t often you come to visit me outside of meetings, what would be the occasion?”

This man I am kneeling before, he is the chief of the grand tribe of Grakzia, high chief Zruk, a jovial man during the times his mood is high and a tyrant when his mood is low. The job of telling him bad news is far from desirable, and unfortunately that’s what I’m here to do.

“An unforeseen problem has appeared, I’m afraid the realm requires your attention.”

I nervously started my explanation as a scowl began to appear on his face.

“There are rumours circulating in other tribes, rumours that the old Deus has been revived.”

I delivered the news with a bitter smile, the chief is known for his bad temper, so far he seems sceptical but calm, he won’t be happy about the next piece of news.

“Furthermore, it appears your son, Prince Ark is with him and has become his champion, he is denouncing your rule as corrupt and illegitimate.”

An emotion of shock followed by rage graced the face of the chief.

“HE IS DOING WHAT!?”

The chief throws away his calm façade and flies into a rage, the guards, very clearly having experienced this many times, slowly back away. He begins smashing elegant clay pottery and rips down the cloth banners lining the walls, after his fury subsided the once spacious and grand room had become a tattered mess.

The heavy breathing of the chief could be heard by everyone presented in the room, he snaps his head towards me and I flinch.

“...is it true?”

He directed a question at me in a relaxed voice catching me by surprise and causing me to stumble over my words.

“E-excuse me lord Zruk?”

The chief takes a deep breath and repeated the same question as before, still in a calm and collected tone, not giving away any malice or anger.

“Is it true, has my son betrayed me and is the old Deus currently alive?”

I pause, considering how to answer his question, after a few short seconds that felt like an eternity I speak.

“Yes, lord Zruk. Your son is following a giant made of bark, the same as the descriptions of the old Deus.”

I take a deep breath then continue.

“He has the mark of a chosen goblin champion, according to the reports he has been travelling to each tribe and instigating revolutions if the chief will not submit to the old Deus.”

I start to nervously sweat as I finish the last of my report.

“He has amassed an army of warriors from each tribe faithful to the old deus, the numbers have yet to be exactly counted but it could range anywhere from two hundred to four hundred goblins, including four shamans who have sworn loyalty.”

The chief finally turns his head from looking at the wall towards me and asked a series of questions to ascertain the situation.

“...how many tribes have submitted?”

I reply with as much courage as I could gather.

“At least seven have fallen in line, three submitted willingly, the rest required a forceful takeover. The Reldom, Darian and Awlstone tribes were the ones who swore fealty to the old deus, Your son, Prince Ark has been appointed as chief of the new coalition.”

My lord took a seat in one of the undamaged chairs and ordered me to continue, I swallowed and proceeded to do as he asked.

“The tribes that were taken over appear to have been absorbed into one large unnamed tribe, they currently appear to be mobilising as many able bodied fighters as possible, the only explanation I can think of would be to clash with us.”

The chief appeared to be deep in thought before staring directly at me.

“How many among us hold their true loyalty to the old Deus?”

I look down, not wanting to give him the answer knowing it will not be the one he desires to hear.

“A considerable amount, our tribe always received favouritism from the old Deus in the golden age, if people were to hear the news that he revived a decent size of the population would rise in revolt believing he would lead them to prosperity again. Perhaps even some soldiers would have sympathy’s for their cause.”

The eyes of the chief, a deep green, appeared as though they would pierce through me, I was able to hear my heartbeat in the deadly silence, before I could say anything the chief asked me a question.

“And where would your true allegiance lie?”

I realised what he was insinuating and panicked.

“I’ve always been loyal to you chief Zruk! The thought of betraying you never crossed my mind I swear it.”

I was scared, I had served the chief since he was a small boy, I had risen to become a respected shaman of the tribe and my allegiance was being called into question by the one I had served so faithfully, I had given my life for the betterment of the tribe.

“I question your sincerity when you say you are yet still loyal.”

The chief spoke harsh and unforgettable words, I was beginning to fear for my life.

“Since you have served me so faithfully, surely you wouldn’t mind if I were to ask for your head as a gift.”

I looked into the eyes of the chief, his pupils were shaking, he had the appearance of a madman. He grabbed a sword off one of his guards, they were equally as shocked as me, and then he charged at me.

I am not a defenceless old man, I was a shaman of the grand tribe of Grakzia, the chief has made it abundantly clear he desires me dead. I have no reason to hold back, I gathered as much mana as my body would let me and begun forming a mental image of a tempest of wind. Moments before the chief reached me I unleashed it upon the chief, the wind swept him and the stunned guards up with its pure strength and forced them to collide with the stone wall, I had no time to check if any of them were dead, the royal guards without a doubt heard the commotion and were likely making their way here now, I had no time to spare.

Mustering up as much mana as possible I charged a ball of pure wind, I launched it at the stone wall and watched as it crumbled under the power of my mana. I heard footsteps outside the door of the chamber, I was exhausted but I was not afforded the luxury of rest at this moment.

I leaped from the castle room, quickly approaching the end of the nearly ten meter drop I had to draw in mana one last time to fully escape, my age was catching up to me and this would likely be the last time I would be able to call upon my mana today. I covered myself head to toe in a storm of wind and used it to slow my descent as much as possible, unfortunately I was not perfect with my execution of the plan.

I didn’t slow my descent fast enough and ended up crashing into a tree, I fell to the ground feeling like something was broken but with adrenaline pumping through my veins I stood up and began to bolt as far away as possible from the castle. There was only one place that would accept me now that I am branded a fugitive from the grand tribe, I would go to Prince Ark and the old Deus, I pray they would accept my pledge of servitude.

Rather than me, I’m more worried about master Vak, the man has openly worshiped the old Deus for his whole life. It wasn’t such a problem before, but now that the chief is planning on wiping out the believers of the old Deus following his revival his situation must have become much more problematic.

I can only pray that he would be able to make it out alive, along with anyone else the chief tries to put to the sword.

Truly, the chief has gone mad, there’s no other way to describe him at this moment. If he survived my spell from before he’s likely to start a mass genocide, wiping out anyone suspected of supporting the old Deus. Just like what happened during the betrayal of the ancestors, this situation is sadly repeating history.

✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣✣

Ark’s POV

I admire the runic markings on my arm, it’s proof of being chosen by my deity, any warrior would be jealous of me just for having them.

'Bang bang bang'

I hear a few loud knocks at the door, I sit straight in my temporary throne room. It once belonged to the Darian tribe, they offered it as a gift to me to show their goodwill towards my Deus.

“Enter.”

I summoned the person knocking into my throne room for an audience, one of my guards entered and kneeled down before raising his head and speaking.

“Chief”

Hearing people refer to me with that word still gives me a wonderful feeling, it’s something understandable after being denied the position of chief for my whole life, my father should be aware of the situation by now, I wish I could see his face when he heard I was chosen as a champion.

He’s probably confused, angry and scared all at once by this point, I get an endless sense of pleasure when I think of that. I wonder how my brothers would react?

“A shaman named Lurx has defected from Grakzia, he wishes to have an audience with you to swear fealty.”

Master Lurx? That’s surprising, I’m sure if I could see my face it would be full of shock, he was a very competent wind caster. Although he wasn’t very open about who he follows he was certainly incredibly loyal towards father, I can’t imagine him betraying Grakzia at all.

“...let him in, but gather the guards beforehand, keep a very close eye on him. He’s not someone I would trust easily.”

After a few short moments the guard left to follow my orders out to the best of his abilities, I was left alone with my thoughts, after uniting so many of the tribes in such a short time I had quite the selection for new guards. I could finally have competent soldiers with me, the chiefs of the tribes that surrendered were still given a position of power if they were worthy enough.

Two of them were granted the position of commander and the third was permitted to manage the blacksmiths of the coalition, my Deus has been working particularly hard in training his mana control, his raw pool of mana and its strength is incredible.

There’s a reason the tales would compliment his magic as well as his strength, I wish that one day I could look back on this moment after reuniting the tribes, right now I feel close to invincible after receiving the blessing of my Deus.

“Chief, we have brought him.”

I hear the guard speak to me from outside the door, I’m slightly concerned about Lurx visiting but even he would not be able to fight his way out of here easily if he tried to kill me.

“Come in.”

I tell the guard and wait for the door to open, Lurx walks in together with twelve of my own handpicked personal guards.

“...I’ll get right to the point, I was betrayed by your father.”