Gray Blade was slowly but surely was losing his mind.Perhaps, Gorcckan had a sense of humor. Or and the though shaking him Gorcckan did not like how he was doing things. That was the only reason the problem was not solved. Even with a horde of proper orcs, a platoon of hobgoblins, and uncountable goblins to toss at the problem, it just would not get done. No one could find them.

  The golden bastards were still out there and apparently stronger than hell. Each of the bastards was making a threat that would get him. Stomping through his camp, he snarled, causing the goblins working to cower. But anything could make a goblin cower.

  Like an oncoming apocalypse, he lumbered over to the hobgoblin section of the camp. It stood out from the rest in that tidy fortified little area. Two sentinels watched on the sides of the door. The two wore the standard black plate and leather of their unit, with a poor, shoddy helm of iron resting over their wolfish heads. In their gloved hands, they held the most basic of weapons, a spear. Nothing too fancy for mere grunts, but they were always ready to implate. They stood at their post with all the discipline a hobgoblin could manage. That and their natural distrust and resentment, after all it was the hobgoblin god who lost. Those bastards kept themselves armoured as the sunlight was the greatest danger to them. It never stopped them from being guarded.

  Those uppity bastards never bothered to even give the time of day. That was without punching them in the face. Growling, he moved past those fools, bumping his head. Slowly, he moved downwards, the cavernous hall. Using his nose, he simply tracked the leader to their quarters. Luckily, it was simply the last door straight ahead. The only issue was the scraping from his metal cap. Gray Blade knew why the hobgoblins had done it, it was simply strategic. Restrict the movement of potential enemies. Gray Blade could understand that, but he could not understand that they never answered his call. Any messenger he was given nothing, and that pissed him off even more. It was lucky for them that for orcs, anger was a healthy trait, respected even. An angry orc was a more effective killer and more like Gorckan. Otherwise the encampment would have been destroyed.

  .

  After ten minutes, he pushed through the enclosed hall, forcing his body forward. His black iron helmet spread sparks that lit the area. His eyes noticed each of the hobgoblins who watched from their quarters but made no movement. It did not matter, as he stopped at the door. The black wooden door stood in front of him, the final sentinel in front of him. Without another word, he broke it, pushing it forward through the area. The bastard hobgoblin asie -de -camp, which only kept reading the reports. Stomping forward Gray Blade moved inside that office with his best professional candor, only a half scowl plastered on his face.

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  The hobgoblin was lean and wore strange spectacles; his pitch black eyes scanned the other report. The black armor hugged his toned form. Instead of his blade, a quillwas held in strong, trained, tangy fingers. Gray Blade knew from experience. They had duels, and it was always close. He was one of the few things that Gray Blade held with any real respect that was not an orc. After all, he was the rarest kind of hobgoblin, an old goblin. It was nearly impossible for hobgoblins to age, most ended up dead on the battlefield. It was the same for Orcs, but sometimes it happened.

  “Old man, you need to push up the damned Roof .” Gray Blade growled.

  “That would be too much paperwork and you don’t have the funds for that. How can I help you now? If you needed something, you could have sent a goblin.” The elderly man spoke with an annoyed raised eyebrow.

  “We are not doing this today. I needed your scouts to search more. I have to find them,” Grey blade roared.

  “That is already been done. Do you need more ?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “This is the third time today you asked me, the scout I sent would be here soon.”

  Growling, he stared at the hobgoblin, dropping a dagger onto the table. “ Get it done, I need those bastards dead.”

  “Understood. We have the location around the gorge and near the waterfalls.”

  “Perfect, I will see to,” Grey Blade growled, moving back through the ruined door.

  With an eye roll, the elder hobgoblin watched the orc go. If he had bothered to just learn the names of his men, he would have known the scouts came back an hour earlier. They had already given him much more that an estimated location, no, they had given a map. But that would be rushing things, the messiah or whoever those two said would be needed to be tested. They would need to learn and become truly strong. So he would use all the resources to make it so. So, within his twilight years, he began to plot a new plan for a future he would never see.