Hareek watched his ambush through his scrying glass, he nervously scratched off flakes of dead skin from his poxed face. It was a risky plan and Hareek had clawed up the ranks of The Ashmount confederacy through careful planning, rather than brash gambles. Normally Hareek would never attack so openly, but he had fallen into the same trap that all hobgoblins like him struggled with, their greed. He thought he could train his troop and more importantly get valuable loot if he ordered more raids. What he did not predict was the church's lackeys to respond so quickly. The hive within him buzzed with agitation as Hareek’s mood turned sour. He hated how this had turned out, if his superiors found out he had jeopardized his mission, agonizing would not even begin to describe his death. This is why he had decided to kick the hornet’s nest by ambushing its soldiers. Like the simple-minded creatures they were, once attacked they would swarm upon the goblin tribes around Leeside, but they would never think to look below the ground. Hareek giggled, sometimes he was so brilliant it shocked him. Sure he would lose the manpower and resources of the tribes above, but in pursuit of his mission, they were meaningless. Hareek and his handpicked subordinates would seal themselves in the tunnels that ran for miles around Leeside and continue their work; studying the Spawnpool. The Spawnpool was created in ages past by the Broodmother; the goblin-kin god of fertility and adaptation. It would absorb ambient mana and spit out goblins. Hareek was charged with studying this divine miracle, if he could find a way to pump it full of mana or make it produce more advanced goblin-kin he would be richly rewarded. The swarm inside him hummed with pleasure, that would be a good day indeed.