Goblins

 

One of the cases of a more curious race one may encounter in their journey around Aetheral. Believed to have hailed from no place and indeed call no place home for too long. Scrappers and junkers, able to live in the most inhospitable of lands due to their keen ability to survive. Able to fashion weapons, armor, and technology over every-day scrap that you or I may just see as junk. This is how they make their living for they are too small in stature and too few in numbers to pose a serious threat to any neighboring villages or tribes. Goblins 'raid' abandoned caravans and left behind homes. Forging their future out of heaps of scrap left behind and destined for none but the dust. If the little green tinkerers had not come along, that is. A Goblin raiding party will take home just about anything that isn't nailed into the ground, sure they will find some use for it in the tribe. Many travelers of other races whom encounter the motley Goblins are quick to pin them as unintelligent for their crude and minimal words, humble living spaces, and lackluster way of life. Ignorance warps perception.

Goblins never knew the comforts of Kingdoms,-- So they never longed for them. Content sleeping on hay and feasting on the scarce meat left behind on bones picked clean by a vulture. Grateful enough to simply be alive. Perhaps a lesson in that. Goblins are naturally gifted engineers, mathematicians, and survivalists. Generations of keen survival lead to this. Arms too small and noodle-y for bows, they have honed the craft of the 'slingshot.' A hand-held projectile weapon-- One quite unlike the slingshot a child in Ardea may possess. Slingshots somehow fashioned to fly faster than the arrow of a bow. Loaded with incendiary pods that explode upon contact. Designed so hot shrapnel may seep into their targets skin. A lone goblin is nothing at all to fear, but a whole pack may just bring you down before you're able to know what has hit you. Another key invention is their hook-shots or grappling hooks that allow them to easily traverse any type of land they may come across. Even their spoken 'language' has been scavenged from conversations overheard or sign posts unattended.

Physically, Goblins resemble orcs while being about a quarter of the size (Three to four feet in height.) Thought to have a common ancestor before splitting off. The way they tell it, Goblins themselves were once an Orcish tribe of the downtrodden and outcast. Preferring maths and science to contributing to the Orcish war machine and being physically unimpressive, they were turned away to form their own. A curiosity for the outside world and all it's untold treasures lead for them to wander. Goblins have no written accounts or history books, but this is a tale one might hear from the mouth of a Goblin elder.

They are green and sinewy by default, possessing long floppy ears, bigger eyes than their orcish counterparts, and smaller tusks. Razor sharp rows of teeth are a more fitting description. Caring not for luxury, they can often be found in simple repurposed cloth and leather that was scavenged. Other than raiders who often fashion slapdash armor out of rusted metal and bolts (See above photo.)

The Mad-tooth Tribe

 

The largest Goblin tribe to currently reside in Aetheral are known as the Mad-Tooth. Or at least it used to be this way. Goblin tribes may differ in culture or practice, but a look at the inner-mechanics of the Mad-tooth give one a good idea of how they function. Barely a hierarchy, Goblins are given roles that play to their strengths: Cooks, raiders, junkers, or doctors. Each gets to choose their own lot in life; all for the well-being of the tribe. Their is no servitude to a leader, nor anyone, but rather they exist as a unity. Unassuming on their own, they recognize the strength in their numbers and are never seen too far from one another. Their is a reason they've been able to survive on their own all these years: The tribe feasts together. The tribe starves together.

While specific titles may differ from tribe to tribe, one will often see these duties being fufilled:

• High Tinkerer: The Goblin most talented with their hands. Proving their worth to the tribe over generation by reforging and reinventing bits of junk from lost worlds for the benefit of all. Their word is not law, but their ability is respected. Respected to a point where they rest of the tribe will wait on banded knee to hear their judgement.
• High Slugger: The Goblin most talented with their hands when balled up into fists (Or when wrapped around a slingshot.) Respected for their prowess in combat (Which can at times be marked by simply returning home from a raid alive.) They are in charge of staging raids and are supreme strategists.
• The Keeper: The closest thing the Goblins have to a 'spiritual leader' and maybe their most convincing connection to the Orcs. A 'shaman' who's duty is to recall and retell history. Not that Goblins care much for looking to the past, but they carry the weight of ancestors bested despite their cleverness. So that their failures may not be in vain. They are said to commune with the ancestors in times of conflict in search of answers. The Keeper and their students have also been observed caring for toads at great length, though the significance isn't so clear. Though they do seem to harvest some sort of secreted toxin from the toad's skin.
• Gourmand: The heart of any Goblin tribe is it's kitchen. One of the pleasures in life they indulge in deeply is cuisine and therefore have learned to place great respect upon the Goblin most capable of cooking up a delicious meal. Cannot raid and scavenge on an empty stomach, after all.
• Raiders: Goblins who are gifted in combat and artillery, they accompany the High Slugger on all endeavors.
• Junkers: Also to accompany a Goblin raiding party-- But almost never to fight. Be it during the heat of battle or the calm after, Junkers crawl around the field looking to fill their pockets and bags with as many resources as possible.
• Tinkerers: Proficient in welding junked swords into armor, creating nasty explosives and whole varieties of gadgets. Naturally gifted innovators, their strengths are needed more back at the tribe. Working with the High Tinkerer to fashion the spoils of war into their future.

The Mad-tooth in the ''Bad-Lands" of Aetheral.

 

Though some may think Goblin more beast than man, the Mad-tooth tribe has suffered losses that any gentle soul may take pity upon. Their previous High Slugger, Broked-Bow, had ambitions to fortify the tribe like never before. The Goblins were always nomadic, but was this by their volition? Or the law's of the world? Laws that say they mighty shall triumph the unassuming. Each migration was brought about by some new threat. Settlers, bandits, actual raiders. With each journey to find a new home, Broked-Bow felt his feet grow more tired. His heart longed for some place he and his people could settle down and call home.

The last time the Mad-tooth wandered, they found themselves navigating the tunnels of Aetheral. Much less to worry about there than the surface. They found themselves seeking permission to pass through the massive expanse of one of the cave's mouths. Permission sought by an unidentified tribe of orcs who made their stay there. Clearance was granted, and the Mad-tooth would spend one night with the Orcish tribe. Broked-Bow found no sleep that night. Instead, he longed once again. This time for what these orcs had. Broked-Bow made his plea, and the Orcs complied. Perhaps a strong ally to be found in relentless innovators and crafty scouts. Their Gazer saw it fit to meet with their spiritual advisor, the Keeper. This meeting would be less than fruitful for the Mad-tooth. The Gazer was displeased to learn that the Goblins knew nothing of the monolith. Nothing of the spirit realm. Nor did they have any interest in learning about these things. 'Ignorance' to the gazer, but focusing on the tangible. The here and now. This is what the Goblins are.

Abominations. No real Orcs at all. Or so the gazer thought. Thought they were perhaps a tribe of orcs punished for their insolence. Stripped of their strength and cultures for casting the monolith and spirits aside in favor of living like savages. A tribe cursed and abandoned by the spirits. The Gazer instructed that there would be no union of the tribes out of fear. Fear some of his tribe may find a truth in their ways. The Goblins were to make their leave after another nights rest. But many wouldn't live to again see the natural light of the world. For just leaving was not enough, it soon became clear to the gazer that they may very well spread their insolence. That these once-orcish and now abominations are unnatural for this world. An exercise in punishment gone forgotten by the spirits. The goblins woke to their slaughter in the name of cleansing. Very few managed to escape unscathed, even fewer with their lives.

They understood not the cruelty and deception. Turning mistrustful and fearful of the other races. There was always support in their numbers. Strength in it. The goblins knew the road to peace this way, and maybe the other races are looking to warp that peace. So the remnants of the Mad-tooth wandered for years. Scurrying at the sight of travelers and scavenging only that which has already been abandoned. The late Broked-Bow would finally get his wish, it seems, when they happened to to be crossing an unforgiving stretch of desert in Aetheral. At first they were eager to leave, until the Keeper spoke up. The Goblins have survived anything, including an attempted cleansing of their tribe. A desert canyon was hardly a challenge, now.

And so the Mad-tooth would settle there. Calling it the "Bad Lands" due to it's description fitting a land of the same name on a far-off continent. For they truly were bad lands-- Harsh and unforgiving. If the thought of stopping ever crossed your mind, the land might swallow you whole. Though they did not settle here for no reason. For it's unforgiving nature was too it's strength. Potential enemies would struggle to traverse the desert. Footsteps slowed by sand. The tops of the canyons provided sight all around for miles. The canyons themselves serve as natural borders, too. No, this location was indeed selected for a particular reason. The Goblins are much smarter than one may assume.