The mountain fortress rose above them as they approached from the northern path. The fortress’ walls were filled and fitted with new logs and hewn stone lined the outside of the walls. The gatehouse was currently being repaired by a number of Stenjin carrying large stones up to the roof and placing them on top the gatehouse as the goblins covered the stones with a strange mud and clay mixture so that the stones stuck to one another. Zalrodal walked at the head of the small procession going towards the newly repaired gates, the two Stenjin that had left the fortress with him were no walking side by side in their newly acquired War-forms. The Stenjin had gained information about their past after their transformation and spoke of the different forms they could acquire given certain circumstances. The War-forms were by far taller than any man Zalrodal had ever seen, their heads would scrape the roofs of most houses, their arms were the size of tree trunks and their bodies were armoured in a carapace of stone, which was near unbreakable by common means. Two goblins pushed against the heavy wooden gate and opened it and started greeting their returning master. Zalrodal asked the goblins to go out and gather everyone and to get the kitchens running for a feast.

Zalrodal entered the throne room through the same passage in the fortresses main hall and was immediately struck by a wave of heat as he entered the building from the windy mountain climate. The throne room was illuminated by great pyres lying inside iron baskets, one fire basket stood between each of the pillars on both sides of the room, while a number of chandeliers illuminated the rest of the hall. The goblins and Stenjin around him were already rushing from room to room bringing forwards large tables and chairs for all the assembled, others brought sacks filled with ingredients as the Stenjin carried large pots filled with boiling water into the hall. The goblins were most excited about the barrels of ale they had been able to steal from nearby villages and were now rolling it into the hall eager to break them open. Zalrodal sat on his throne flanked by two great fires and Migaal jumped onto a pillow that had been placed for him on a small table.

He looked out at the hall and the preparations which were happening much faster than he would have expected, he supposed his followers were quite eager to have a feast again. One particular goblin walked towards the throne, he was clad in a large coat which he handed to another goblin as he entered the hall. Guglak approached his master, “Greetinz, it is good have youz back,” Guglak gave his master a deep bow, “have youz foundz the shiny stonez?”

“Migaal, as usual, was right, we did find Visapis within the tree although we did not take as much as I would have liked,” Zalrodal raised a leather pouch filled with the remaining Visapis, “It seems that tree didn’t like visitors.”

“We bring axez to tree then, chop chop, shiny stone for us!”

“Maybe another time,” Zalrodal responded, although he had doubt that any amount of chop chop could fell such a tree.

Guglak sat close to him on the high table as they began to eat and many of the Stenjin had placed themselves close to hear anything that Zalrodal spoke, they were eager to learn about what happened to their comrades and besides they did not partake in any of the drinking and eating that was so integral to goblin society. Zalrodal explained to the Stenjin whose eager yellow eyes looked at him out of their husks of stone, he told them of what happened at the tree and how combining the inherent power within a piece of Visapis and their precious Heart of the Mountain could if placed on a Stenjin transform them into this new form. He was aware that other forms existed but he didn’t know how to gain access to these as of now, and war-form was exactly what he would have wanted anyway. The Stenjin were eager to undergo the transformation themselves and regain some of their old might and memory but the lack of Visapis proved to large a hurdle in that enterprise. Zalrodal asked the Stenjin to choose four of their own to be transformed as he reckoned there would only be enough Visapis for so many transformations.

Transformations about war would come after eating and now that he had time, Zalrodal ate, mostly the meat that was hunted in the forest as goblin prepared soup was not something one would usually describe as appetising. As he ate he spoke with Guglak and some of the other goblins who had gone out on raids during his absence, they spoke of their future plans, plans larger than stealing a couple of sacks of grain or raiding a farm-house or two. The Stenjin alone would have added sufficient numbers for bigger operations not that they seemed eager to fight in their current condition, but with the war-forms, they had gained enough strength to raid deeper inland and not be forced to retreat at the first sign of resistance. The goblin numbers had also increased as more tribes from the woods and mountains had joined over the cold winter months as the fortress was as safe a place as any and there was enough food to pass the winter quite comfortably.

Currently, many of the kingdoms had started working together and attacking what they called “monsters” in a joint effort. That was of course when they found the time between their seemingly endless wars, the river kingdom of Arberon was such a kingdom at war. Which suited Zalrodal well for Arberon was also their neighbour and spanned the length of the Eberon. The kingdoms forces would be too occupied fighting a war to notice or rather to occupied to split their troops to deal with a band of raiding goblins. But all of that would come later, they would have to plan, and prepare for battle, scout out the village all the stuff that is often forgotten in re-tellings of conflicts.

As the feast reached its end and the goblins could barely tell their left foot from the other the tables were moved aside and the Stenjin presented their candidates for transformation. Three of the Stenjin looked like most of the stone being Zalrodal had seen before, one could tell them apart if enough time was spent among their kind but for now, their hewn faces were near identical. The fourth Stenjin was different, Zalrodal had not seen it before, for he surely would have remembered the Stenjin. Its body was made out of blackened stone, different from any others of its kind. It seemed particularly eager to gain a new form. Some Stenjin presumably were more inclined towards battle than others which seemed only reasonable, not every goblin wanted to raid and pillage, just most. One after the other the Stenjin were transformed as Zalrodal pressed the Visapis and the mountain heart to their bodies. The three Stenjin transformed into near-identical copies of the first two war-forms he’d created. The remaining Stenjin who the goblins had named Blackrock transformed into an even taller version of the previous war-forms, a dark carapace grew and spread along its body additionally to the nearly impenetrable stone body. Blackrock seemed to be truly ready for battle. Soon they would go out to raid and conquer, Zalrodal planned to take most of the remaining forest as his own and expand his grasp upon his surroundings, and the stronger he became the more followers would come to him as the only safe place left to beasts and creatures of the dark alike.