• Goblins. The most common of the Daemon races and although dangerous in large numbers, quantity is their only strength. Rapists and thieves every one of them and too ignorant to stop existing despite the efforts of many brave adventurers to teach them how. Despite various "educated" circles that have provided tested theories that state that properly raised they are quite capable of being civilized and intelligent there is no proof that any of them are anything other than a dangerous breed of vermin that only get stronger and dumber as they evolve.
    excerpt from "Dangerous Daemons Vol. 1" by Ronald Frump

    "Ha! That's three Hobs for me and mages at that!" Declared a young wood elf.
    "Calm down Herne! We're still in enemy territory." said another equally young member of this copper-skinned elven race.
    "Hehe. Sorry about that Tapio. Couldn't help myself." said Herne as he turned to look at his friend.
    "Should someone who was included in the Dragon Hunt even be this excited about killing some gobs?" said Tapio

    At this Herne expression turned deathly serious. "First of all they were Hobs, second they were also mages, and third" putting fist to chest with an expression of pride practically shining from his face. " while it was certainly a great honor to have slain those foul beasties, it is only the first of many great things I shall accomplish in service to our Dray and no other opportunities should go overlooked!"

    "OI!!!" Both Herne and Tapio flinched as Hunt Leader Leshak came up to them with the ten other members of their party. "IF YOU HIGH ELF LADIES ARE DONE CHIT CHATTING COULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO FIND THE BLASTED NURSERY SO WE CAN LEAVE THIS DAMNED CAVE ALREADY!!!?"
    "RIGHT AWAY SIR!" the two cried in unison.

    While the two friends frantically began the search one of the other wood elves behind Leshak came up to him and asked.
    "Sir were there any hostages?"
    "No." he replied. " apparently we'd just missed dinner." at the look of horror on his companions face he said. "Don't worry these gobs have only been attacking the human traders who pass through here. Only reason we took care of these gobs is because some of those traders were carrying important shipments for us."

    As his companions breathed a sigh of relief he suddenly heard Herne call out.
    "Hey! I think I found it!"
    Turning back to the to the little room hidden behind a pile of old crates he quickly opened the door and drew his bow but the sight that greeted him was not what he had expected. Instead of any infant goblins and whatever treasures the Goblins had stowed away as one would expect in a goblin nursery there was only a single crate. As he drew closer he noticed something drawn on it.

    It was a face. A simple round generic face drawn to look as though it was sticking out it's tongue. "What?" that was not all, to the left of that face appeared to be a human letter. While Herne wasn't as fluent in human writing as he was in their speech he knew enough to recognize this as a B, and to the right of the face were two more human letters, O and M.

    "BOM??" he tried as his he heard his companions draw closer to the entrance of the room.
    "No wait. That face looks like it could serve as an O too. Boom? Boom. Boom?? Boom!!!!"
    KABOOOOM!!!!

    "Ach! That didn't sound like it was as big as Idda hoped it would be. Guess I shouldna skimped on the powder and just filled the feckin crate.
    Up on a hill some distance from the cave entrance stood a Goblin wearing a red cap, goggles, a patchwork of leather armor with straps, pouches and various other knick knacks.

    "Ah well still sounds like the feckin boggers got their back doors kicked in." he said and with that heading back to his mount a smallish, poofy, black and white bear with a saddle and bags as well. Although it had no reins Knocker simply got on and said "Home Orc-Killer." and the bear began to head in the direction he desired. That's what Knocker liked about Orc-Killer.

    Not simply because the fact that he had once save him from an orc or because Orc-Killer's strict diet of bamboo meant he could enjoy the whole thing for himself but because of the fact that of all of his subordinates he was one of the few with anything other than meat between his ears and the only one he never had to explain everything to. It truly made him feel vindicated for all of the hard work he had put into raising him. From keeping him warm and dry to finding and gathering milk from other bear mothers. No easy task mind you, of course none of these thoughts had gone through his head when he had found Orc-Killer a little over 2 years ago.

    No it was the fact that he had found him after the hobgoblins and older goblins of his horde had killed Orc-Killer's mother for food, and with the knowledge that the group of women from whom he had been born had just been eaten by the same individuals fresh in his mind, made Knocker feel a connection with the little creature he had found. Upon realizing this reason, Knocker after being alive for only two months realized he had little in common with his fellow goblins. At three months he realized how much he hated them. At 4 he began his plan to takeover.

    Over the next two years he quietly built up a base of operations far from the cave of his birth. Moving supplies and most of the treasures his clan had poached. He even began making new equipment and experiment with herbs and chemicals. Although that went much better after learning what books were for and teaching himself to read them.

    Eventually he even began moving other goblins in. Starting with those of his generation who were struggling and hadn't yet made a niche for themselves within the horde, then those of later generations who couldn't be trusted to keep a secret or follow his instructions well enough. Those that remained with the clan while not too bright were all loyal to him. None of the older goblins or hobgoblins even suspected as they were too preoccupied taking care of themselves and had no interest in a bunch of young goblins "dying".

    Over time when not training his subordinates or working on some project he also acquired the ear of the Hobgoblin leader. Fortunately, this hobgoblin was no mage as they preferred not to lead and instead focused on their magic. The fact that the leader wasn't a mage meant that he was just dumb enough to manipulate. Eventually Knocker convinced him to change the location of their ambushes. The hob leader didn't even realize that the old locations had been waylaying the traders on their exit route from the forest, meanwhile the new location had him attacking them as the traders headed towards the wood elves Dray.

    Knocker knew this would eventually bring the Wood Elves down on them and when it did he had his minions ready to move the rest of the treasures and supplies to his base and while he doubt the explosion had taken care of all the elves he was confident it had destroyed any evidence including the escape tunnel as well as the fact that aside from the loaded crate that the nursery had already been emptied. As far as those elves were concerned all goblins were dead and that bomb had been merely a booby-trap for unwanted guests.

    An hour later he had arrived at what was once an abandoned Dwarven minehold, but was now an active Goblin minehole. There were two main reasons he had chosen this place one was the fact that it had been abandoned before the Dwarves had built exterior fortifications that would have made it stand out or exhausted the rich veins of precious ores and gems, but after they had finished building internal fortifications, smelting and forging equipment, and living quarters. However since Goblins were used to much less and were in fact more likely to hurt themselves trying to turn the equipment on, without the second reason Knocker would have likely chosen someplace more Goblin proofed.

    The second reason was named Lorgo Grindbang, a Gnome who had been living in a smaller cavern off to the side of the main one. Now while Knocker had never met a real Gnome before he had read enough to know that they tended to be master Artificiers, making devices using the power magic and science, they also tended to be obsessive with personal hygiene and general cleanliness in their homes and workshops. Lorgo however preferred to hide his workshop under the Dwarves junk pile and forgo time consuming practices such as bathing or shaving. This left him looking more like a crazed monkey in a jumpsuit, but he had gotten along well with the Dwarves when they were here, not so much with their pale skinned, cannibalistic cousins the Duergar.

    Having dug up straight into the Dwarves living quarters the 40 strong Dwarven miners had stood no chance against a force 3 times their own. However those same 120 strong Duergar stood even less against a single angry mad Gnome whose sleep had been disturbed by all of the clanging and screaming. Knocker wasn't sure how exactly Lorgo had accomplished this, as Lorgo used many strange words when telling this tale, the blow to the head from Lorgo's tea kettle hadn't helped either. If not for all the fleshless corpses with bizarre burn patterns and other assorted damage Knocker was glad that he had read the name of the the weapon he had grabbed to defend himself.

    "Hey Now! That there's my thunder stick your waving around like a drunken Hummin!" Lorgo shouted
    "What the Feckin hell is a hummin you Manky arse! An how can this feckin stick be yours when the damned sign says Tasing Rod" Knocker replied as diplomatically as he could manage with the room spinning.
    "Hummins are them elafin lot with the short ears and that don't smell like a flowers a** you ijet, and I can call my stick whatever the Hells I want." Lorgo shot back.
    "Bombay Shitehawk! Those are Humans ya thicko and if your going to feckin call something something then feckin well write it's fecken name as your going to feckin call it you feckin dingleberry!"
    "Why sh!?..Wait a blasted second how the hells do you know what it says? Gobs can't read!" Lorgo stated while wondering if maybe he had drank a little to much sauce.
    "I feckin can or at least I got the letter sounds figured out" Knocker declared wishing the room would stop moving so he could brain the crazy Gnome.

    However that turned out to be unnecessary as Lorgo realized that he had run out of all but water years ago. Meaning that this gob was indeed smart enough to read. Now wasn't that interesting? Once Knocker and Lorgo came to an agreement Knocker began moving all of his belongings and minions to the mine, with Lorgo to teach them all on how to run the equipment Knocker hoped that they could meek out a living down here.
    Two years later after finally ridding himself of the old Goblins Knocker once more descended into that mine. This time using an automated pulley system he called a Vater, and where there had once been wreckage left by the dead there was now wreckage left by the living. While the Goblins under him were smarter than average gob some things, such as cleanliness and order still had a long way to go.

    There were small piles of junk scattered across the caverns, mostly what was leftover from the Dwarves but some were additions brought in from raids on the Duergar and other forces of the Underlands. Knocker not only allowed the mess, but encouraged it. Turning the various piles into traps and secret compartments. For some reason the Dwarves had few storage areas that were large but too easily found and woefully unsecured with nothing but a big lock to keep others out. to be sure they were good locks, nice and complicated but with nothing to kill or maim those who try and fail to unlock it, it was practically begging for someone to pry it open.

    Knocker marched past the junkyard toward the forges. Massive machines that could forge giant structures or automatically churn out enough high quality weapons and armor to arm an army and even whole automatons. Unfortunately there were still some key components missing, but Lorgo was working to fix that. In the meantime Knocker was content with his personal workshop located in a small cavern just behind the forges that had likely been intended for storage. He could have used one of the various workshops in the main forge area that the Dwarves had finished but the cavern provided a more comfortable solitude and was much cooler as it was farther from the Magma vents that automatically provided the forges with power and raw metals.

    Anyways those workshops were meant for Dwarven works and the things Knocker made tended to be more complicated than battle axes, plate mail or giant gears and so required a more specialized equipment and setup. Since meeting Lorgo, Knocker had come to realize his own talents as an Artificier and despite how their first meeting had started truly enjoyed studying under him. Something that surprised Lorgo greatly as all of his previous students had tried to kill him after the first week. He'd actually begun to think that it had to do with him or his methods.

    Knocker hadn't settled into his shop for long before his lieutenants found him. Sliding into the cavern sounding off their names as they reported in: Gobu Do (blacksmith) Gobu Doe's twin brother who was in charge of the workforce who maintained the working equipment and building the tools needed for their everyday life, Gobu Re (shaman) whose job was leading the magic users who allowed their horde to avoid sheer drudgery with their powers, Gobu Mi (hunter) whose job was leading the hunting parties in securing needed supplies from the forest and any lone travelers, Gobu Fa (bard) who despite his job was placed in charge of organizing the mining efforts, Gobu So (Cleric) who was in charge of their healing unit, Gobu La (scout) leader of the unit who located both delves and ruins located throughout the forest, Gobu Ti (beast master) who was in charge of livestock and security forces, and Gobu Doe (armourer) Gobu Do's twin sister who was in charge of building weaponry and security devices necessary for the defense of their home.

    Knocker let out a hefty sigh at their ridiculous entrance. None of them had any brains worth mentioning but they were gifted in their respective jobs, competent in their areas of responsibility and in following any of his orders (once he finally got them to understand them) and were beyond doubt in their loyalty to him and their horde, so he received their reports and gave his own in small and easy to understand words along with his orders for the next day. After they left he returned to his work thinking of all of the plans that he could now set into motion.