The Story of Smag

Smag was born in a small goblin village. This village was founded by Klug, a strong warrior who was vying for Goblin King at the capital. Things went south quickly for Klug and he fled with his family and allies vowing for revenge and to raise an army. Unfortunately for Klug his ambitions were short lived, as he was killed by a member of his own army. The village remained about the same size ever since, with power hungry goblins fighting each other for control.

Smag was one of three children born in a pod. At the age of one Smag suffocated his brother to death while stealing his food. His parents were proud of Smag’s potential. They focused on feeding him more and teaching him how to fight. But, as with most goblins, their focus lasted only so long. After a couple years the hope of Smag as a chief was abandoned and the beatings and whippings began. Unfortunately for Smag’s sister, she died after a couple years of eating scraps from other houses.

Smag’s first real memory is of a fight between two older kids. The larger, stronger kid ended up beating the other one to death with a branch. At the end of the fight the strong one was lauded as the next great warrior and possibly the next chief. The whole village was so interested in this kid. Smag on the other hand was interested in the dead kid. He was amazed at how easily a life could end. Smag wasn’t small, but he definitely was not the largest or strongest of his peers. All he wanted to do was to stay alive.

Smag wasn’t able to avoid fights, but he was adept at either winning or losing in a way that didn’t wind up in death, especially for Smag. It wasn’t so lucky for the boy who was praised as the next chief, as the current chief eliminated the threat, before it could grow much older. Smag also took this to heart.

Smag’s real interest was in the hunts. The Chief would pit two groups against each other to capture a deer and the one who brought back a deer first would get half of the other party’s deer. It was generally considered to be the favored group who had the strength that would get the first kill. But Smag thought there had to be more. He studied tracks, but usually to no real positive effect.

On one hunt Smag and nine others had found a deer and spent a full day chasing it down after only sticking it with a few arrows. It then took them a full day to drag the beast back to the village, where they discovered the devastation. Burned and hacked bodies of many goblins and a few orcs were strewn everywhere in the remnants. Smag tried to see how the battle took place with the tracks on the ground. He could see a large Orc had ran up to this spot and deftly sliced at this goblin, and that one, shifting comfortably back and forth from left to right, but then he stepped over into that area and the trail was lost.

Smag went to the mud and thatch home of his “parents” and saw their burned bodies on the fire pit, but felt nothing. He cared so little for them. He cared so little for this whole place, and even for the group that was left. But it was all he had.

This group decided it was best to track wild game to stay alive. Unfortunately they came across an ornery ogre who killed two of them and sent the other eight scattering and some dire rats that seemed to chase them for miles. They struggled to catch even the meagerest of meals some days and before long they was only 6 of them left. After many days they came across a well worn road where groups of humanoids traveled often. Wrog, the self appointed leader, decided that they would be better with the fancy meats that these travelers seemed to have in abundance. Smag convinced Wrog that if they did attack, that it would be best to find a group smaller than theirs.

That is where Smag met the party. The battle seemed to go alright, two of them dropped, but this magical viney thing kept Smag in the very back. And then it all went wrong. Suddenly he was alone and this human creature speaking his language was towering over him. Smag wanted to stay alive. He dropped his weapons. But this humanoid, this Deuce, as he called himself, was offering him his life to be in his indentured servant. The other 5 whose words he could not make understand seemed to threaten, but this one offered him an option. So he took it.

In the humanoid town, Smag was told by Deuce to go clean up and stay away from the others, to run and come back in the morning. So he did. He went to the river and put some water on his face and in his matted hair and sprinkled some on his ragged leather armor. But what was clean? He didn’t understand the word. But he knew something. If he was going to survive, it was beside Deuce. Even if the others didn’t care for him.

The Story of Smag

The Richenshire chaotic six cecman1 cecman1