In the fortress city of Ghurek’s Glory, three ships sit in a rarely used port. They are almost finished, missing only the oars and rowers. Many more partially constructed ships fill the port. The city’s warlord (Ghurken) had a plan. To secretly build a large fleet and then storm down the river, flanking the elves defenses, overwhelming the summoned elementals which blocked the passage usually and allowing them to build a fortress south of the elves’ position, forcing the outnumbered enemy to split their forces. It would be the border cities who conquered, but all would know it was because of his cunning plan. Soon. Soon. Soon, his plan would have been ready to put into operation thanks to the vast slave workforce and resources he was pulling from the forested heart of his domain.
But that plan had to be put on hold. Something was happening to the east. Those lands were usually more a training grounds and a source of fresh slaves than anything else, as the ill-disciplined orcs who occupied the foothills beneath the mountainous cities and fortresses of the hobgoblins had been no match for them ever since Hurgin the Great united all of the legions in the mountains. Even before that, their only successes had come when the hobgoblin legions were weakened from fights against one another.
No one knew what was going on, but the armies of the mountain were marching east at the call of the Warlord of Warlords and despite Warlord Ghurken’s argument that his plan would work as well on the east side of the river as the west, he had been ordered to march and was preparing to march, with most of his forces and a baggage train of slaves and servants. It wouldn’t be too soon, as there were only so many paths through the mountains and though the current Warlord of Warlords was not Hurgin’s equal, she was more than a match for the logistical challenge of organizing the legions so they did not crash into one another, and so none were insulted by being behind a legion with which they had old feuds.
This Flow knew from carefully listening to the polite discussion of the hobgoblin leaders of her team of slave workers who had actually been building the ships. From listening to the rather less polite discussions between the goblin workers (well, slaves, really, but better off slaves than her and her nongoblinoid fellows), she heard fearful whispers that the orcs were trying to unify, just as the hobgoblins had more than two hundred years ago. And the Warlord of Warlords was trying to make sure they couldn’t. But this would be no mere enslavement, or execution of some wandering warband, but true war. Soon. Soon. Soon, the hobgoblins would fulfill their purpose to their dark gods and coat the ground in blood as they sought conquest.
None of that mattered to Flow, the water genasi cared about this only because it meant that an incredibly rare opportunity had arisen, one she and her sister had been waiting for, for years. As they could swim like fish and breathe underwater, they’d been invaluable for work on the ships and port generally. But, that also meant that they were more watched, as it would be so easy for them to escape. The solution was as simple as it was effective, they were never allowed into the water at the same time. And if one ran, the other would be executed. It was a typical hobgoblin solution to a problem. Efficient, effective and cruel. But with the army marching out, they would have their chance!
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Not all the hobgoblins would be going of course, especially not the Iron Shadows, that secretive organization that watched for internal troubles and dealt with them silently. Well, silently until it came time for the public execution, but they didn’t handle that part. Just the ferreting our of plots. Which was why she and her sister, the even more creatively named (or renamed, for their names had been given by goblin overseers when they were captured as children and neither used their original names while slaves) River, were keeping their plan extremely tight. This was an unprecedented chance, once the army marched out, it would be their best chance. They’d steal all three boats, if everything went to plan. If not, they’d steal one and burn the others. Or just steal one and trust the elves would let them through and handle any pursuit.
Which meant they needed oars. Which meant they needed wood, which meant in addition to all her normal work, she was searching for good quality driftwood, which she would then hide where it could be retrieved, dried and shaped into oars. And spears, as they’d need to handle a handful of hobgoblin guards and scare off a bunch of goblin overseers. Fortunately, bugbears were generally too lazy to bother coming down to the docks, and too worried about getting their fur wet, which left them miserable, so they were unlikely to face any of the massive goblinoids.
They’d need other things of course. Food most obviously, but also things like barrels to hold food and water, tools to shape the wood into spears and oars, tar or oil to fire the other boats if parts of the plan failed and hopefully any old charts or maps of the river, though she and River could swim ahead to spot any shallow points. But those supplies weren’t her problem. Soon. Soon. Soon. Okay, eventually, she and the others would escape down the river to freedom! It was the opposite direction as their old home, as the Warlords generally exchanged captured slaves to make sure each would have to cross the entire length of their domains to reach their homes.
But past the orcs there were human nomads...who probably weren’t friendly to random groups of ex-slaves, but there was also supposed to be some sort of free city at the end of the river. And they’d have a ship they could sell, or work. And they’d be free. No more cowering. No more hoping hobgoblins or goblins look past them when they want a bit of sport. No more temptation to just swim away and pretend they wouldn’t kill her sister. Freedom. It would come. Soon. Soon. Soon.
