You are Runt, son of Grunt and a proud young goblin warrior of the Black Paw clan from the village of Zacha Dun.
But as our story begins, you are a long, long way from home. Your pack, led by Chief Claw the Brave, left the village many days ago, bent on loot and glory. This is your first raiding pack and your passing into manhood and you are delighted to finally get a chance to prove yourself as a fearless warrior and looter.
But your hopes are soon dashed to the ground as the bold expedition turns into a pile of stinking orgre shit.
After only two days of travel, six good warriors becomes spider food during a ill-chosen shortcut through an infested dungeon. A few days ahead, a run-in with a pack of those fucking snooty goblins from Gimlesh Ziglig turns into an insult hurling match that leads to a full on skirmish where both Growl and Gnaw have their heads smashed and Fang is wounded so bad that he has to be left behind.
A few days later, a reckless raid on an elven trade caravan leaves another ten of your brethren dead on the ground from the deadly barrage of elven arrows. The raid is not entirely unavailing as the pack manages to seize a barrel of elven wine. But as a result, both Stick and Lanky drink themselves to death during the following night and Dimwit is killed by Scar in a drunken brawl.
Though seriously decimated, the raiding party strives forward. The morale is waning, but turning back empty-handed is unthinkable. There is still a gleam of hope that good plunder lies ahead. At night the old warriors entertain the young at the campfire by telling fantastic tales of raiding packs of the past.
Old Hung has the best stories. He even claims to have captured a young human female many years ago when he served as a skirmisher for the Black Steel Orcs during the siege of Bluevale Castle. You can't get enough of Hung's vivid tales of her warm soft skin, large breasts and her loud moans as he tore her clothes off and forced himself upon her in every way imaginable. The tale usually ends with the lot of you masturbating like mad in a howling frenzy.
But as you march on you find no plunder and you find more and more signs that you are not the only ones invading these lands. You come upon scattered human settlements, but they all seem to have been be hastily abandoned. Here and there you find dead animals torn to pieces and you start to hear strange howls and screams at night.
One day the pack stops as you see smoke rising from a nearby valley. You are selected as a scout and are sent forth to investigate the source of the smoke. As you crouching make your way through the tall grass you pick up the scent of burning flesh. But also something else. A sweet and tempting scent of something living. |