The local countryside enjoyed a sunny day on the seventh day of the forth moon. Amidst a clearing in the woods, a figure materialised out of nowhere amidst the wildflowers and tall grass. The man wore nothing but a black cloth that served him as pants, his black unkempt hair as wild as the flora around him. Out of the ether, out of death itself Zalrodal opened his purple eyes, the faint light passing through the canopies of the trees causing him to squint. He did not know how or why he awoke in a forest in the middle of nowhere by all rights. The last thing he should have witnessed in life was the ball of fire being tossed at his face.

Zalrodal stood up from his flowery bed and stretched against the sun warming his body. He was unharmed, there were no marks of any fire burning him to cinders, could it all have been a dream? Zalrodal asked himself. No, that wouldn’t explain why he had been sleeping in the middle of a forest. Something strange must have happened, something quite outside of his control, but he was determined to figure out what it was. However, he first had to know where he was, he looked around in case he recognised anything, but he had no such luck. The next best option would be to walk till he reached the end of the forest.

The forest had no paths to speak of and Zalrodal’s bare feet trampled everything in his path, stepping over roots, twitgs, and stone. The longer he walked the clearer the light became as the trees grew more separate from each other. Before he was able to leave the forest for good a projectile struck him on the side of his face, leaving a red mark on his cheek. The weapon in question bounced to the floor, in front of Zalrodal was an acorn. He looked around the nearby trees to see a group of squirrels that seemed to be laughing to themselves. Zalrodal reached for a stone and threw it at the wildlife dispersing them and causing them to retreat. That would teach them not to mess with their future overlord.

Zalrodal left the forest to be greeted by a familiar sight, he saw the Eberon river and the accompanying countryside. The local peasants sewing their fields were a sight that always pleased Zalrodal. A rich peasant meant a peasant that had more that was worth stealing, and he would need all the resources he could get to build his empire.

Zalrodal made his way towards his old hideout, it was a long walk away but it was the only home he knew and he was determined to recuperate whatever he could. As he approached the place he started seeing the corpses of his former minions. Goblins the lot of em, he could not remember their names, but then again most goblins were the same worthless fodder in his eyes. At least that’s what Zalrodal thought a Dark Lord should think like. Zalrodal stood at the entrance to the small cave system that had once been his home when he heard a noise, a shuffling in the bushes, He turned towards the noise fist raised, determined to not go down without a fight if another adventurer group attacked.

Out of the bush a familiar figure erupted, it’s face covered in snot and tears, it’s slim tongue flapping in the wind as Guglak rushed towards his master. “Master, Master, youz return for me,” Guglak spoke as he threw himself at Zalrodal’s feet, “I knewth Master wouldn’t abandon Guglak.”

Guglak, as pitiful as he was, was a recomforting sight for Zalrodal, it meant not all he had worked so hard to build up was destroyed, he was also glad that Guglak had been the one to survive, truly loyal minions are a luxury to come by. “Tell me what happened, make it quick,”

“Big fire and Master burn, but Master disappear, saved from the flames, yez, yez,” Guglak spoke, “Filthy dventurers, try to take treasure but Guglak hide, hide with treasure,” Guglak put forth a folded piece of cloth in which a number of the caves old trinkets and treasures was gathered. “I am sorry, I could not fight, Guglak not powerful like Master, Master defy the reaper, yez.”

Zalrodal grabbed the treasure out of Guglak’s little green claws. His rough fingers passing over the last of his wealth. He folded the cloth and threw it over his shoulder. “Guglak?”

“Yez Master?, how can I serve?”

“Lead me to your brethren, I require more minions. We shant be able to attack any village while it is just us two.”

“Yez, Master, follow me,” Guglak started hopping away from the cave entrance, “Goblin of forest, new leader, Uglik,” the goblin spat that name in Zalrodal’s direction, “Not issue, Master beat Uglik, no issue, yez.” The goblin soon disappeared into the brushes but it was impossible to lose him, he seemed to be breaking every branch on his way. Zalrodal looked over his former minions and snatched up one of their crude little blades, he’d need a weapon to fight this Uglik. He would also need a weapon more appropriate than a goblin sword, which felt more like a cooking knife in his hands.

Gulak led him back into the forest in which he returned from the reapers embrace. Although the parts of the forest were new to him, darker, more hidden, the familiar stink of goblin bodies was soon the only smell Zalrodal could make out. He and the goblin peaked out of a big bush, his head poking out as Zalrodal pushed aside the foliage, Guglak’s head soon appearing next to his own as he did the same.

In front of them a group of goblins were going about their daily tasks, some preparing the skewered meat of squirrels and rats above the fire pit. Most of them were drinking, the goblins' strange brew and the ones that weren't, were fighting amongst themselves for one thing or another.

Zalrodal looked to his right, the little goblin face protruding from the leaves, “Which one is Uglik?” Guglak pointed his crooked finger at one of the goblins. He was taller than most goblins but not as tall as Google himself. Uglik wore an armour made out of separate pieces of mail held together by a mish mash of belts and ropes. The goblin leader was in the process of yelling at his underlings when Zalrodal emerged from his hiding spot. Black cloth trailing behind him, contrasting the greyish tone of his skin. Zalrodal unsheathed his blade, the crooked blade not covering even the length of his arm. Regardless of the weapon he was an imposing figure to the group in front of him, standing at nearly three times their height.

“I Zalrodal, challenge you Uglik. Prove that you are worthy of leading your brethren or join me, and we shall bring doom to the manlings with fire and sword.”

Uglik looked at Zalrodal standing on the small elevation making him look even taller compared to his own small stature, he was about to yell at the goblins to swarm the newcomer, perhaps he could serve as tonight’s dinner. As he was stepping forward to command his fellow greenskins, they started rushing behind him and pushing him forward, cowardly creatures as they were. Uglik looked at Zalrodal and then at the fearful faces of his followers and drew his blade. “I willz kill youz,” he threatened, “then we feast on youz flesh,” Uglik charged forward.

Zalrodal leaped forward leaving the high ground and hitting the ground at a run. He was no master combatant but a goblin would not be his doom. Uglik jumped to the side, quick as a rabbit, he stabbed forward, Zalrodal’s side stung as blood was drawn, he turned around trying to strike at the goblin. His blade narrowly missing the top of his pointy green ears. He stabbed downwards once again, the creature ducking under his arm and chasing it’s devilish blade along his arm, making it flare up in pain.

Zalrodal took a step back, the goblin was much faster than he expected, he followed feigning weakness. His eyes following every move the goblin made, Zalrodal put his sword arm forward, the goblin jumped to his right, making any swing with his injured arm doomed to fail. Zalrodal had no intention to use his goblin blade, he threw his right hand back as his left barreled towards Uglik who had tried to get past his guard once again. Rough fingers grasped the wiry neck of the goblin and housed him off the ground. Zalrodal threw his blade into the dirt below and balled his hand into a fist, delivering a blow to Uglik’s stomach. His fist drove deep as if nearly penetrating the goblin’s enterie stomach, his eyes bulged and his mouth opened up soundlessly.

Zalrodal hoisted the goblin by its throat higher for all the others to see. He looked at the goblin hanging limp in the air and threw him at the ground before him. “I will be your new leader!” Zalrodal proclaimed, “we shall take what we want and show the world to fear us!”

Uglik raised himself of the ground to look at the one who bested him, “yez master, we followz youz, youz bringz shiny to clan.”

“If you follow me, your hands will be overflowing with treasure. We shall start by gathering more of the goblins that live in these parts and then we shall raid the river village, we will fill our camp with their gold and our stomachs with their cattle and ale. Will you follow me?” Zalrodal asked the crowd, it was a rhetorical question of course. Anyone who wouldn’t follow would be at the wrong end of a blade.