《The Runic Swamp》[5] Champion

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Almost every tribe has at least one goblin shaman, these act as wisemen and advise the current chieftain on matters of sorcery and rituals to the gods. If anyone was going to oppose me taking the place of their god, it was the shamans. And unfortunately their words hold quite a lot of weight in goblin society, if they denounce me as a false god then my chance to take over any tribe would crumble in an instant.

I have to deal with two main groups and the loyalists that follow those groups, the shamans and the goblin ‘royalty.’ If I walk into their land and demand subservience no matter how incompetent they might be, they would not accept willingly. What I need is a puppet chief on the throne of Grakzia, if I can manage to indirectly rule the strongest tribe then the rest will naturally open up to the idea of reunification under the god that once unified them in the first place.

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Ark’s POV

This is unfair! First father refuses to allow me to train with the guards and now he’s sending me to hunt as some sort of ‘practice.’ Practice for what? He refuses to allow me to join in with training and he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t see me as a potential heir, he would rather choose that snob of an elder brother of mine over me! While they’ve all been whispering sweet nothings into the ears of the shamans trying to curry favor, I’ve been training to become a great warrior.

I’ve never even seen them raise a spear and I doubt they could succeed even if they tried, but still despite me being of superior strength he still stubbornly refuses to name me as his heir! ‘Too hot headed’ he says, constantly talking to me like I’m a child. My only solace is listening to master Vak’s stories of our ancestors, the man is the only good shaman in my book.

And he practically raised me, he spoke of a time when all the tribes were untied and led under a great warrior god, a giant made of bark exuding an aura of a true king, of course this was before even he was born but his master had told him the same stories when he was a boy and his master before him.

The warrior god was an unstoppable force on his own, and to make it worse for his enemies he commanded legions of goblins into battle, a true horde that would make the ground quake and make every enemy soldier regret their decision of taking up arms.

I grew up on these stories, every time I would hear them I could feel the rush of the battlefield, sense the fear the war god struck into the hearts of his enemies, and feel the pride of a warrior truly emerge from within me.

These days the goblins were no longer this mighty kingdom, but a pack of scattered rats pretending to be lions. Our chiefs became lazy and contempt with letting the war god fight for us, they fattened themselves up off the backs of true warriors, they became arrogant and forgot their place.

My blood boils when I remember what they did simply for the promise of power and influence, they betrayed the person that put them into power in the first place, the shinning example of a true warrior. Master Vak is an often forgotten shaman, among all the other influential and flashy casters he was a disciplined and stoic man. While all the others still believed in worshipping that pathetic excuse of a god named Nummir, he never truly stopped believing in the deus that led us to victory so many times.

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That’s why I respect him, he didn’t abandon his deus like the cowardly ancestors, it makes me wish I was born during the golden age for the goblin tribes. I desire to be a part of the army that pillaged the human kingdoms to the north, or perhaps join the legions that held back the orcs and dwarves of the southern mountains.

I would be able to seek the endless glory that I’ve always desired to my heart’s content, this truly made me yearn to be in the heat of battle under the command of someone truly worthy, although that day may never come I could always dream of becoming the champion of the war god and usurping the role of chieftain from my father.

“Master the preparations have been made.”

My daydreaming was cut short by one of my guards, a short and slightly idiotic man, a prince of the grand tribe of Grakzia was normally to be granted with competent and trained royal guards but the scheming of my brothers made that impossible, instead of getting royal guards I was given with regular soldiers. The excuse I received was that all the trained royal guards were unavailable in this ‘uncertain’ time, so instead of competent guards I was sent regular soldiers.

Although they seem to know their place well enough, always showering me with praise, seems they finally realized how much of a superior candidate I was for the next chief of the tribe.

“Good, lets begin to move out, I want this hunting exercise to be completed fast and for us to return as soon as possible.” I responded to the guard with a slightly annoyed tone

On the way to the best hunting spot I could think we had to pass through territory belonging to the Zanrir tribe, a completely matriarchal tribe run by chieftess Alva. Needless to say they aren’t usually friendly to male goblins but I happen to at least have some good relations with them, so they allow me to pass only scoffing at me a few times. The spot I’m heading to is the main entrance to our cave swamp, it’s an unclaimed territory that wild animals often enter through.

If we wait around by the entrance we could catch a few large swamp lizards by surprise or perhaps even the occasional crocodile, what I didn’t expect to find entering into the cave swamp was a giant possibly over two meters tall made of bark.

Wait a minute, a giant made of bark?

I recalled back to those many stories master Vak had told me of the old deus, I looked again at the towering giant, and just like the stories everyone could feel the aura of a king radiating off him in waves. It made us want to submit ourselves to him, to the true god of the tribes. However if this was the old deus resurrected then surely he wouldn’t know how much time has passed? A shiver fell down my spine as I realized he could possibly think of us as traitors, so I dropped my spear and prostrated before him.

And I tried my best to explain through my fear and awe of the giant that the ancestors were the ones that betrayed him and that I was faithful to him as my true deus, in the next moment his head split into roots facing the heavens and a gaping maw opened. I couldn’t see inside, it was a true abyss swallowing any rays of light that would dare to expose its depths.

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I could imagine him ripping my head of with that abyss of a mouth, my fear skyrocketed, I was shaking uncontrollably. Thankfully what happened next was nothing similar to what I had imagined him doing, he spoke in demonic voice that radiated power and control.

This person, no, this god, his very presence demanded respect. He asked us to rise and we listened and did just as he asked without a moments hesitation, he asked about the tower of the ancient and I told him about the lich that inhabited it for the last decade. His memory seemed to be full of holes but after being betrayed and murdered by another god it wasn’t that surprising that he didn’t remember much, in fact it would be a miracle that he remembered anything at all.

He asked that I tell him about the goblin tribes, I happily told him about my position as a prince of the grand tribe of Grakzia, although it’s mostly only in name. And I also told him about the betrayal of the ancestors to refresh his memory, after telling him the story he told me his desire to make me the high chieftain of Grakzia. It’s everything I’ve been daydreaming about ever since I was a boy, to become one of the chieftains serving under the old deus, I was finally going to get my wish and serve the old deus as his champion. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on my brother’s faces.

“My deus.” I spoke to my god with confidence, if I really wanted to serve under him I had to be worth of that honour, my deus looked towards me with what I assumed is a curious face.

“Do tell me what is on your mind, Ark.” my god spoke in his usual tone, it could be very terrifying for someone hearing it for the first time but I could get over the tingling sensation of fear in the back of my mind when he speaks now.

“My lord, I wish to become one of your champions! Please grant this selfish wish of mine!” I pulled together all the courage I could muster and finally made the one request that I had been meaning to ask to my deus ever since I first laid eyes on him.

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Interesting, the goblin named Ark had actually gathered enough courage to make a request. He wishes to become a champion of mine, I suppose I do have need for champions, and ambitious ones would be helpful as long as they are loyal.

“Very well, kneel.” Ark does exactly as told and kneels directly in front of me, I am unsure of the proper procedure but Ark did say it was common for God’s to have champions, and that they would have a true connection with those chosen warriors, I’m not certain on what ‘true connection’ means but if it’s a connection I might be able to do that by infusing Ark with my own mana.

I place my right hand on the head of my soon-to-be-champion, Ark. and something... odd happens, before even infusing my mana into him I feel a pulse of something similar to electricity pass from my head and bolt towards my head. I remember my encounter with the girl shortly after my birth, and I do the same as I did back then. I focused on the alien feeling inside my head and just like before, I’m looking at memories, Ark’s memories.

But this time there’s a lot more memories than the girl had, it’s not just a few, it’s every single memory he’s ever had. I realised I was looking into Ark’s entire life, his childhood memories of sparing with friends, his disgust towards his brothers and his father, and finally, his most cherished memories.

They are of an old goblin in a robe telling him stories of their old deus, of me. I could feel his amazement at the mere mention of the power of the old deus, his yearning to fight alongside him, and his desire and ambition to rise among them all and make a name for himself as a champion.

I had a newfound respect for Ark, that raw willpower was beyond what I was expecting of him. A warrior with potential this strong must not go to waste, I begin pouring my mana into Ark in massive quantities.

But that’s not all I did, I went back to that feeling, that desire to become a champion and that raw willpower, and I held onto that feeling as I was pushing every last drop of mana into him. I kept going, and just before my mana pool ran dry I took the willpower and desire and infused it with the last drops of mana I had remaining.

And as those last few drops entered into Ark a blinding light pierced the cave swamp, bright enough to see it from miles away, after the light died down I looked upon Ark, no, I looked upon my new champion. He had grown a head taller and no longer look nearly as skinny as he had once been, the biggest change was his right arm, it had been covered in black runes and his once bright green pupils were now shinning a crimson red.

I now knew what Ark meant by gods having a true connection to their champions, I could feel his mental state, I could know his location and see through his eyes. And I had a feeling that ability came from his arm with the runes, soon Ark would no longer be a mere forgotten prince of a tribe, he would be a grand chieftain and unite the tribes under my rule.

Ark rose up from his kneeling position and all the shocked guards soon collected themselves and then realised this meant their master had become a champion of a deity, endless loud cheers proceeded and Ark looked at his body with pride.

He walked towards me, towards his new deus, and kneeled. The other goblins soon followed and all of them were looking at me in admiration, Ark was the first to look up, he opened his mouth and began to speak.

“I, Ark, son of the high chieftain of Grakzia, pledge everlasting loyalty to you my deus! I shall serve you well as your champion!”

The rest of the goblins soon followed the lead of their master

“We swear everlasting loyalty!” All of the goblins said in unison.

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