The Banner of the Goblin Tide

The balcony of Snuff’s cottage in The Stormpeak was frigid that morning.

The light, silent snow of perfectly fashioned flakes casually drifted down

from the overcast sky creating a fine dusting of white across the

latticework. A sight, which was very pleasing to the commander’s eyes,

and the only comfortable event in his world at present. The druid lifted

his hot cup of honey mint tea to his face and stole a deep breath of the

fragrant mist that wafted from the brew. 

He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.

The decision had not been easy, and weighed heavily on his mind. Nonetheless, he knew it was the only choice open to him. Having both leaders present at The Black Temple for Ito’s rescue was not in the best interest of the Vindication Clan, and the family security must be considered in matters such as these.

The Druid offered a silent prayer of protection to the Goddess Elune for the safe delivery of his troops in Shadowmoon Valley.

The first word had come to him late yesterday afternoon from a most unlikely source. While tending to his lichbloom garden on the west side of the mountain property, a tiny goblin appeared seemingly out of nowhere, shocking Snuff to alertness from his semi-dazed state of auto gardening.

“Yo!” started the goblin in his irritating high-pitched voice as he materialized from the bushes. “I have led a peaceful visitor to you. He brings urgent news from Outland that you must know. He has paid me well in gold for the seal of my lips on the matter once this meeting’s end has taken place. His gold has also purchased my interpretation skill in your language. He asks that you recognize the Banner of Goblin Tide and raise no hand or sword during this encounter. He has vowed to recognize this truce to convey this urgent message. Will you cooperate?”

Snuff quickly checked his reaction to grab his staff in defense and became instantly suspicious, questioning the tiny green man,

“Who seeks me at my retreat?” He demanded, pulling himself straight to his full height and bearing his presence hard on the small creature. The trees behind the druid began to quiver and shudder, almost as though they were being called to arms, but not with a force that would bend their roots to the sun, but in a manner of impressed, higher degree of alertness.

The goblin shifted his weight nervously, one eye on the trees, one eye on the Great Commander. With a wave of his thin elongated fingers appeared Phoebus, from behind a large Oakwuld Tree.

Phoebus! A Soldier of Horde Nobility and Grand Foe to the Alliance, Leader of the greatest of Horde Clans, skilled hunter and of Orcish heritage, stood straight backed at the edge of Snuff’s garden.

Snuff did his best to hide his shock and surprise at such a visitor, but try as he may; the tiny upturn of Phoebus’ upper lip told him his reaction did not go unnoted. The elf gained control and cautiously nodded in the direction of the infamous horde but spoke to the goblin.

“Whatever I say, I bind you to repeat word for word, Under the Banner of the Goblin Tide, do you agree goblin?” demanded Snuff, never taking his eyes from the horde.

“I am bound by the honor of the Banner, Sir.” The goblin gave a crooked low bow in Snuff’s direction.”

“Speak!” ordered the Druid.