The Seed of Greatness (Empire Builder Goblin Quest)

[Giant Woahbot]

The Seed of Greatness

Today was terrifying because of several reasons. One of the terrifying things was the loud 'thump' sound followed by the splash of bright red blood across your face as a humanoid shape plummeted to the ground. You scurried forward, hoping for something easily edible or lootable, and when you draw close, you realize it's still moving if just barely. Human, dark brown hair, pale blue eyes, angular features, and… muscles. Oh so many muscles. Instead of the normal weird cloth coverings the terrifying humans tend to wear, he was covered in some sort of gleaming metal shell and he had one of those long shiny metal claws they carried lying next to him. You immediately move to grasp the handle and drag it away from the weakly moving thing. Then you scramble close to assess the edibility.

Life was also confusing recently. As a goblin, this isn't a particularly shocking state of affairs. You are OFTEN confused about the world around you. As chief of your tribe, you tend to be a little less confused than most, but that's mostly by virtue of knowing that if you tell the others what to do, they'll do it, and if you do well enough? You'll probably get more delicious food. This though… this didn't really fit into your paradigm. You see, you'd been out hunting with members of your tribe. This is often a high risk venture. If it's particularly big prey like a carnigoat, or very aggressive like a mountain badger, you can usually expect to lose one or two. That's fine though. Goblins breed faster than rabbits, and they don't take long to grow into minimally useful members of the tribe (about a year).

Then you saw the dragon. Over a kilometer in length, clad in glittering black scales, eyes lit bright red… It flew away like some departing nightmare, a winged lizard in the distance. You don't get a GREAT look at it, but your 'nope organ' begins working overtime the moment you see it. You don't think about whether or not it's shameful to hide. You assume that every goblin that saw it did the exact same immediately (which is probably all of them, since the thing was huge). That wasn't so confusing. Just one more really terrifying facet of your life.

The human looks up at you with tired eyes. Its shaking hand, covered in its own blood, reaches out to you, fingers trembling and you dodge to the side, heart pounding like a drum. The man laughs softly, sadly. "Beg the God of Duty for a miracle, find out he has a sense of humor." A rattling escapes his throat as he hacks and coughs. "Come here, little one. I must give you a gift, lest I risk it passing from this world forever." Wonder of wonders, you understand a few of these words, despite the fact that the few things that have a language in this part of the world CERTAINLY don't speak the human tongue, Lysendi. Mostly you understand the word 'gift'. Free stuff! And without the need to loot!

You greedily scramble forward. There is literally only one thing you can think of that is better than looting free stuff from something that's already dead… And that's having people just GIVE it to you. You don't even have to look through the body to figure out what's there! So when the man holds out his hand, gesturing you closer, you move that last, tiny bit of distance, and peer down into his hand... Which promptly turns and closes over your face in a lightning-fast movement. Which of course leads to regret as you realize that now the mangled-looking human is going to kill you. Trickery! It's exactly what you would've done. A fairer person wouldn't have held it against him since it's what you would've done. However, you are NOT a fair person. You're a goblin! As the light from his palm grows brighter, you reflect a little on your life. On the things that brought you to the heights of goblin achievement (which inevitably end in a horrible creative death, now that you think about it). You rose to the position of chief because of an advantage afforded you by your early life. Like any charismatic, intelligent, strong, shining example of valor, you had your very own origin story!

Choose one:

[ ] – The Necromancer - You were raised as the slave of the Necrovult, Graad. Day in and day out, you watched him work the mysterious, poisonous magic known as Dolor, speaking with the spirits of those who had passed on and raising the dead in an infinitely complex menagerie to serve as his armies in his eventual assault upon the Witch Moors. You've always had a better memory than most of your fellow goblins, so after a while of watching him, you managed to learn the basics of bending Dolor to your will. The first time you raised a zombie rat to go steal food, your master was FASCINATED. He struck off your chains, ushered you to your own room, and informed you that you were to be his apprentice, and heir, and even showed you the grimoire containing all his necromantic knowledge. You were so impressed. So proud. No one had ever trusted you this much. As a result, that very night, you stole the grimoire and everything else you could stuff into a bag and ran away. You support your tribe by ensuring that the dead rise again as undying cannon fodder for your hunts.

[ ] – The Psion – You were born of the crèches of the Order of the Boundless, that strange, small group of men and women who manipulate the strange energy of the mind they call 'Potential'. Vast breeding pens on the floating glacier-island of Solanaceae held the fruit of their breeding programs. Somewhere along the way, one of the Boundless discovered a seed of active Potential in a goblin while perusing a market in a far away city. Through careful searches and tracking of bloodlines, they managed to learn much of how 'Potential' propagates through lineages. They continued to breed them as fodder to practice psychic combat without risk of injuring their own students. You were a one-in-a-million result. A genetic aberration they simply call a 'Grey'. Possessed of dense psionic Potential, the common method of dealing with your bloodline was to give a private feast and let you drift off to sleep in the night from the poison, never to awaken. What they didn't know was that you had another genetic mutation that JUST SO HAPPENED to make you immune to that poison. You finished the feast, stole one of their training manuals, and then road off on an ice float, leaving them behind. Slightly taller than the average goblin, your big head, long limbs, and 'great' height convinced the tribe you ended up with to fear you. They find your grey skin very strange, but using some of the techniques you learned from their manual, you've managed to ensure that they are unswervingly, slavishly loyal to you.

[ ] – The Healer – They're called The Broken. They're an order of healers. When they find you with your leg twisted in the forest, they picked you up, they took you to their abbey. They fed you, cared for you, and though none among this Abbey possessed sufficient command of their arts to fix your leg, they healed you as best they could. In fact, they freely taught you everything they knew of the process called Suspiration, the process by which one manipulates the life energy known as Breath. Through them, you discovered an inner peace that you think no other goblin has ever managed to achieve. You even took the oath of their goddess Neranyar to never personally bring harm to another. Still, in time you grew lonely for your own kind, and stole away in the night. You also stole all the herbs and medical tools you could lay hands on… You have just as much difficulty looking to the future as any goblin, but you often reflect on the past. You aren't entirely certain that they didn't just 'let' you go ahead to spread their arts to those who need them. Your presence brought the goblins health, and a lower mortality rate than most tribes could ever dream of. The previous chief ABDICATED, which is virtually unheard of. You're still unable to bring yourself to do direct violence, but let's be honest, you're still a goblin. If you need a skull caved in or a back stabbed, you're just fine with ordering your tribesmen to do it.

[ ] – The Monk – In a range of mountains not too far from here, there lies a monastery. In that monastery, there is an order of men. They shave their heads, they wore clothes just as simple and unadorned as your own. They ate simple food in the smallest amounts that would sustain them and drank only water. They meditated. They eschewed wealth. They fought. Oh, did they fight. Flowing, dance-like moves. Such grace as arose a murderous rage in your heart. You were left with them as payment for succor they had given a traveler, a man who had owned you. Their order, unnamed, looked down on slavery, and they demanded you in payment. Upon receiving you, they informed you that you were now a free being, and also that you couldn't leave until you'd worked to repay them. Still, they trained you in the basic forms and movements of their fighting style. The proper way to meditate on these forms and techniques to advance your understanding of the art. How to begin your journey down the ascetic's path. Eventually, you got sick of all the hard work, and snuck away. You did nominally search the place, trying to steal everything valuable that wasn't nailed down, but other than some weird old scroll, they had literally nothing worth stealing. You grumbled about it all the way back to your current home, until you met your new tribe. You promptly used your basic understanding of the unarmed fighting arts to beat the former chief in hand to hand combat. Now your whole tribe trains in the Dragon's Fang Style, at least, as far as you know it, and show more discipline and patience than most would ever attribute to a tribe of goblins. You're still fodder for adventurers, but against another tribe, one of your goblins is worth two of theirs, and your people don't eat much!

[ ] – The Rogue - La Société Tenebrous. One of the few organizations goblins have ever been welcomed in openly. You were a miserable street urchin, lurking mostly in the alleys and sewers of Grestin, the capitol city of Lysendi. You mostly worked as a pick pocket, or pretended to be a horribly burned child while begging until one of the more important members of the guild noticed you knifing a noble to death from behind and lifting several pouches of gold. After he beat you severely, he then proceeded to TEACH you the ways of stealing, of slipping a knife in from behind your enemy PROPERLY. Of poisons, and mis-directions and picking locks. Then he began using you to create distractions, to act as part of the ploy to con or scare his enemies or marks into giving him more money. He came to trust you, even let you sleep by his hearth when it came time to rest. He fed you. Well. Until you stabbed him to death in his sleep and took everything in his house that wasn't nailed down. Really, he should've known better. He was a murderer and a thief. When you got back to your ancestral lands, you promptly walked up behind the chief, stabbed him SEVERAL times, and then made it clear to everyone that you were in charge. Everyone was very impressed as this was LITERALLY the most goblin thing they had ever seen. All goblins are sneaky. You were basically a living shadow by their standards. When you taught them to make traps, they were over the moon. Finally, a way to kill that did not involve direct combat!

[ ] – The Warrior – Jǫtunnblut. That's the word for you. Either your mother or your father was slept with one of the shapeshifting giants of legend. You've met neither of them, but you know you are… different. You're young, but almost from the moment of your birth, you were strangling rabbits for your food, killing other goblins in your tribe when they angered you. You grew up in these mountains, and at only a year old, you're already the tallest, most muscular goblin in your tribe. Upon reaching relative adulthood, you rammed the chief's skull against a nearby wall repeatedly until it caved in, then declared yourself 'boss'. No one argued because they're all terrified of you. You immediately exiled all your competition for mates. As a result, the goblins of your tribe are all a little bigger, a little stronger, and a little less fearful than most standard goblins… though by human standards, they're still utter cowards and bullies. Every now and then, one of your issue is born as the stately, human-sized Hobgoblin, vicious and powerful, and possessed of a terrible cunning. Given time, they might supplant the goblin population totally. And you? Well, everyone knows your kind never stop growing. Both in size, and in bloodthirst.

[ ] – The Mutant – You were born on the Witch Moors. Like many people who move to the Moors without permission from its sovereign witches, your bloodline was cursed by the hex-slinging mistresses. The Corruption, the result of the witches twisting of the Moor's natural Dolor has infested your lineage. As a result, goblins of your line often develop strange and unusual mutations as they grow into adulthood. The curse is particularly condensed in you though. Your genes fester with Corruption. Every year or so brings some new changed to your body and biology. Goblins care about little this sort of thing, though. The villagers near the giant tree you were born in were not so sanguine. After the whole pitchfork and torch debacle? You decided it was better to move on. It's like they found the face that your fifth eye fired beams of energy offensive. Or was it that barbed scorpion tail? Who knows. What you DO know is, once you met the leader of the local tribe, a heavy-handed idiot, you shot him in the face with your laser beam and then stabbed his twitching-corpse multiple times with your tail until it stopped. That was, as far as the tribe was concerned, a pretty solid argument for why you should lead. Birth defects and other things seem to have become more common among the tribe lately. Hopefully they don't blame you!

[ ] – The Diabolist – The Lysendi Empire contains many secrets. Perhaps none so dark as the Cabal of Kept Secrets. Diabolists. The very word sends shudders of terror down the backs of most civilized men and women. Not even the elves of Kraakena Forest generated half so much fear and loathing from the civilized people of the world. Demon summoners. Without access to the Collegia Magos or the shamanic magics of the elves, those in the world at large have little recourse but to make truck with demons. It's relatively easy, if one gets ahold of a tome, a surprisingly generous diabolist, or a free imp, to learn to summon any number of demons of varying prizes. Wise men summon the weakest of demons to start. The wisest never get involved, period. At any rate, you were a member of a Horde, a monstrous army in the service of Prince Gettford, the pre-eminent diabolist of your time. He ordered those in his service who had even a speck of magical power to be gathered up and walked through the process of binding a minor imp. You were one such. Following proud goblin tradition, the moment you were assigned to guard something important, in a daring display of stupidity, you stole The Book of the Legion of Names and absconded. When you high-tailed it as far away as you could, you immediately used your connection with your imp servant to burn every goblin that challenged you to ash. As your people had no real taboo against cavorting with demons, you were a lock for tribal chief.

For that matter are you a:
[ ] – Chieftain
Or
[ ] – Chieftess

And what even IS your name, anyway?
[ ] – Write in.

 

[Giant Woahbot]

Imagine your surprise when you DON'T die. No. Instead, you feel something, the light, flowing into you. Filling you. Something happens there, in your mind. Stretching out. Expanding. Your consciousness feels spread thin and for a moment, you almost believe your mind can encompass eternity. Then the fact that a very dangerous, very large human has his hand on your face and is shoving light into your brain penetrates your consciousness. The urge for goblins to survive is very, very strong. Yours no less. You act, as the men in that monastery taught.

You'd never been sure how it would work before, but your fingers come up. One hand wraps entirely around the man's thumb while the other jams the nail of your thumb into a place just below his wrist. You turn and shift your center of gravity as his hand goes limp and whip your entire body about in a move that allows you to ride his arm to the ground and twist it out of joint. Before he even has a chance to scream, you complete the motion with a backward roll that lands with a knee to his nose. You're too small to use the move the way it's really meant, but the extra momentum provided by the roll allows you to essentially detonate the man's nose as you lay it flat against his face. He loses consciousness, and you stop there, crouched on all fours, panting as you try to regain your breath.

Eventually, you look around and realize that the man is still alive and still drawing in breath. So, that's something you're going to have to deal with.

[ ] - Mercy - He'll probably die as is. Maybe if you take him back with you though, he can recover and you can get some answers. Whatever he was doing, you stopped him from completing it. You can get some answers, and divested of his possessions, he couldn't be that much threat to an entire tribe of goblins… could he?

[ ] - Safety - He's helpless. End him here, now. You can strip him of everything he has, and possibly get a little bit of food out of it. Who knows? Certainly, it's safer than having something this big and dangerous lurking around.

[ ] - Apathy - Who said you HAVE to deal with this? You're a goblin for crying out loud. You survived, so now's the time to engage in the time-honored goblin tradition of running away from terrifying things. Who cares what happens to it?

Regardless, you know that hunting and gathering for the day is over, so you have to go hunt down your tribe and find out what they're up to since they almost certainly all fled back to the cave after the dragon left. You'll have to rally, beat, cajole, and bribe them to go out and there's so many things you have to attend to. Come to think of it, winter isn't far awa- Wait. That's odd. Now that you think about it, you've never really THOUGHT about winter before. You just dealt with it when it came, and accepted the inevitable goblin deaths as just that… inevitable. In fact, most goblins aren't capable of thinking more than half a day or so ahead of time.
Oh spirits. Now you can't STOP thinking of things. Like, how difficult you suddenly realize winter is going to be… Or rusty your skills might actually be from not being as disciplined as you should be with them. Really, your knowledge of the future seems to mostly serve the purpose of making you regret the past. You know you didn't have a short memory before. Now though, it's almost like… When you think about the day ahead of you… You just sort of KEEP thinking about it. As a goblin, your ability to contemplate the things that might possibly kill you is practically unmatched. Nine hells, there are breeds of vermin that have a lower mortality rate than your people. The only surcease you ever got from that was the fact you could only fit so much worrying in your limited ability to plan for the future. Now, though…

Well, done is done. No reason to complain about it now. No. The main reason to be a Chief is to have safety and comfort. To achieve that, though, you must have a strong tribe. Your goblins are the equal of any two of their number, but they have dwindled under your leadership. Now? Your tribe has maybe ten members, not including yourself. It won't survive much longer without your guidance. No tribe means you are very vulnerable. Vulnerability means potential starvation, and death.

It's not a very nice cave. It's drafty, damp, and there's basically no defenses. It's just a hole in the side of the mountain with a particularly easy path up, which, now that you think of it… Also makes it easy for wild animals and other tribes to find their way to you and raid. At least you thought of training your tribespeople. They don't complain, but you can see too many hollow bellies. Too many badly bound wounds. Tattered clothing when they're wearing anything at all. You can push them further than most goblins would ever willingly go, but there's a limit. You'd had to beat and cajole them into line. Teach them your meditations so they didn't notice their discomfort as much. Your direction helped eliminate some of the misery of their lives, which made your position a little safer from constant attempts to kill you. Extinction does none of you any good, though.

In the cave, there's a bundle of sticks, taken from stolen bits of broken wagons, random branches, and bits of scavenged trash. It sits center so all may see you when you sit there. You ascend The Boss Chair to think, and begin giving orders to your goblins. So they can't think very far ahead? Fine. You can do it for them. Ogres and the like push you all around when the form Warbands. They use their strength to bully and abuse you. Even goblins have their limits, though. You can be pushed enough to rebel. You're not going to let it get that bad, though. No. It's time the Gristlefang Tribe had things its own way. You are Drago, son of Pikk, daughter of Podmuk and on this day, you make a solemn vow to the spirits: You shall not be food for another.

Tribe Growth Per Turn: 0
Food Reserve: 15
Food Upkeep: 50
Food Income: 45
Tribe Population (not counting you): 10
Breed Modifier: 1.1

Warfare: 17
Statecraft: 1
Leadership: 12
Research: 8
Skulking: 15

Warfare (Choose one): Your tribe could probably defend against a somewhat larger tribe of goblins with no problems, but anything more challenging than that is problematic.

[ ] – Advisor – You need help. You can't do everything like you are now and ever expect to make any real progress. Not without help. You've heard of a cave in this mountains where there lives a troll. Normally, they'd dominate or eat goblins rather than work for them. You've heard this one is blind, however. Eyes gouged out and burned to keep him from being able to regenerate. He's still dangerous. A casual swipe from him could easily end you. Still, trolls are well known for being willing to work for humans for gold, and for being naturally militarily inclined. Since he's blind, and he can barely feed himself in this hellhole you call home, you figure that by agreeing to feed him, you can draw on some of that military experience. Chance: 70%, Turns: 1, Upkeep +5, gain an advisor and extra warfare action and options.

[ ] – Training – Your goblins know how to throw a punch, a kick, and how to block. Goblin to goblin, they'd win in almost any normal fight. They could stand to be better, though. With a little bit of effort, you could probably raise your entire tribes fighting skills at a minimum to the level of 'Aspirant' in the Dragon Fang Style by teaching them some forms and techniques. It would take hard effort, and a murderous amount of training to do this in a year, but goblins DO like being able to beat things up. It would certainly reduce some of the casualties from hunting and better prepare you for raids from other tribes. Chance: 70%, Turns: 1, Reward: Better trained fighters, reduced yearly mortality rate.

[ ] – Cavalry – You know other races have mounts they ride into battle. It greatly increases their effectiveness. In some of the other caves on this mountain, you know you've seen some rather large, but relatively docile spiders that you think could bear the weight of a goblin. It would provide a few options in battle, and it would also make getting around the mountain that much quicker. They can't crawl straight up walls bearing the weight of a goblin, but they may be able to scramble over uneven terrain in a way even carnigoats could envy. Chance: 60%, Turns: 1, Ridable Cave Spiders, Upkeep +10

[ ] – Raid – There's more than one goblin tribe on this mountain. It's not very neighborly, but if you attack one of the weaker ones, you might net all sorts of rewards. Food, materials, volunteers, maybe even a minor magical item if you get particulary lucky. Of course, if you do poorly, you could lose a few goblins, or even worse, make an enemy of something larger. Chance: 90/80/30, Turn: 1, Chance of reward or disaster based on how well or poorly you roll.

[ ] – The Ogre Problem – You currently pay most of the food you gather or hunt to a small ogre tribe from down the mountain. They're very… Problematic. They make the standard threats, of course. Give them food, or they'll destroy you. You've seen them snap a horse in half with their bare hands which is no mean feat. One of them could give a tribe like yours pause effortlessly. There are SIX of THEM. Still, you're pretty sick of paying tribute to them. With your current resources, it would be nearly suicide. You could give it a try though. It would certainly solve your food problem easily enough. Chance: 5%, Turn 1

Statecraft (Choose One): Diplomacy is NOT a thing you really need to be doing yourself. You wouldn't know the difference between a diplomatic gift and a rock to the skull. Best to rely on others for now.

[ ] – Advisor – Noone wants to talk to you. Other goblin tribes attack you on side. Anything less dangerous than a goblin is food to you. To anything stronger than a goblin, you probably ARE food. If you're willing to venture down the mountain, one of the Clan Drakes seems to be doing his Journeyman Quest. He is from the Ambassador Caste, which definitely fits your needs. However, since he's here in The Storm, one must assume he is either disgraced, of no important sept, or both. Which might limit his value. Still, once the Clan Drakes pledge service, it's for life. Plead your case to him, offer to feed him since it's the one thing you really have to offer, and maybe the sterling reputation of the Clan Drakes will help open up relations with other tribes. Chance: 70%, Food Upkeep +5, Gain advisor and additional statecraft options and actions.

Leadership (Choose one): You don't really know much about leading a tribe. How to properly anticipate their needs for nutrition, how to keep them happy, cloth them, feed them. Your discipline has ensured that the average Gristlefang is unlikely to challenge or try to kill you, but botch this too much, and they may very well rebel anyway.

[ ] – Advisor – Only goblins truly understand other goblins. You know of a wanderer, a survivor of the failed 'Nightstab Tribe'. While it would probably be pitifully easy to convince him to join your tribe, and even just tell him to do the job you want, he's pretty exceptional in his talents. Some even say his a Revenant. A rare phenomenon cropping up among the races. One who is Deathless. Regardless of the truth of this, it means that he is also more likely to challenge you for leadership. So you'll have to make an effort to impress upon him the consequences of stabbing you in the back. Chance: 70%, Turn 1, extra leadership action, failure gets you an advisor but he WILL make trouble.

[ ] – Fungiculture – The men of the order farmed. Tilled lands. Tended orchards. Even grew savory mushrooms. You don't understand the finer points, but the caves around here sprout fungus pretty easily, and there are a LOT of caves. You remember the basics of growing mushrooms, so you're pretty sure you could set some goblins to tending them in their spare time. They don't require a whole lot of work per day, since the local varieties are so hearty, and it would be an ongoing source of food that you don't have to HUNT for. It wouldn't add a whole lot your tribe's access to variety, but your people are about as content as goblins get when it comes to fancy luxuries. You could feed them bland porridge every single day and they wouldn't complain. Chance: 90%, Turn 1, +10 Food Income

[ ] – Hunting – Organize some directed hunting parties. Making a concerted effort here will allow you to stockpile a reserve. Go after some carnigoats, or Moor Hares if you're feeling particularly bold. Sure, you might take casualties, but everyone who survives will have fuller bellies and you can make sure the ogres get their tribute. Chance: 80%, Turn 1, +20 Food Reserve

[ ] – Breed – Goblins do one thing better than almost any people (except maybe Kobolds), and that's 'breed'. You can simply just order your goblins to focus on growing the tribe. Your food costs will go up, but so will the number of hands you have access to over the course of a year. You won't even have to work to convince them. Chance: Auto-succeed, Turn 1, Multiply current population by breed modifier.

Research (Choose one): Goblins are generally not scholars. You're no exception, but you can see now that only greater knowledge will lead to greater prosperity in the long run. You need all the advantages you can get.

[ ] – Advisor – You nearly screamed your head off and order your tribe to pack up and flee when you heard the news. An elf. AN ELF. Covered in swirling black tattoos, shining golden eyes. The only people with the ability to match direct magery with the Lysendi. And there's an Elven Wyrdláréow wandering around the base of your mountain. Your people tell you that he wants to meet with you. He claims that Wyrd, a strange elvish concept, commanded that he come and make common cause with you. He's willing to lend his intelligence to your cause, but he's got a few terms he wants to hash out first. Chance: 70%. Turn 1, Food Upkeep +5, new research options and one extra research action.

[ ] – The Scroll – The scroll you stole is full of odd writing. By studying the pictures, you think you can glean some techniques just by eyeballing it. Having someone who can read the old thing properly would accelerate your understanding of it greatly, though. Without a proper understanding, you're merely an excellent fighter. With the scroll, you could become a true practitioner of the ways. A dragon in a goblin skin, as it were. What's more, this will allow you a great library of techniques in the long term to teach to your goblins. Chance: 70%, Turns 1

Skulking (Choose one): You're a goblin. Frontal attacks aren't normally in your blood. Sneaking around and getting your way with quiet feet and when need be, sharp knives to the back. The problem is, this works best when people are actually willing to let you near enough to plunge the knife in.

[ ] – Advisor – One word. Vampire. He's not asking for food. He's not asking for much in the way of accommodations. Just a moment or two alone with any prisoners you happen to capture here and there. Presumably to drain their blood. Oh yeah. And if you don't have any prisoners, he wants your goblins to all contribute a little blood to make sure he's well-fed. Supposedly, the former human is hiding here from the villages on the Witch Moors after he pissed off one too many witches. Oh well. Not like they ever leave the moors. Chance: 70%, Turn 1, additional skulking action, more skulking options, if not fed prisoners, may feed on your goblins.

[ ] – Ogre Intel – Forewarned is forearmed. Even if you never decide to attack them, knowing them better will make you safer in any dealing with them. Especially if their leader decides he wants to 'chat'. If you DO decide to attack, knowing where they sleep, if they have any prepared defenses, and their movements will be PARAMOUNT to carrying it off with as few casualties as possible. Chance: 40%, Turn 1

Personal (Choose one): You of course have time for yourself. After all, what's the point of being in charge if you can't properly abuse the position!

[ ] – Extra Attention – You can use this free time to slip in another action in any one category. Write in which category.

[ ] – Ascetic Meditation – By meditation on the nature of the Potential and Breath inside of you, you can smooth out the flows in your mind and body, make them more efficient. This isn't something you can learn from a scroll, but it can have all sorts of effects, such as reducing your need for warmth, boosting your resistance to disease, decreasing the amount of food you require… And at higher levels, pushing your physical abilities beyond what is normally possible for a goblin of your size. If you discover a special meditation technique, there's a chance you'll be able to guide any elite fighters you have in learning it. Chance 5%, Turn 1

[ ] – Train an Attribute: Write In.


Relations:

Cracktooth Kobolds: Apathy
Warpath Ogres: Contempt
Clan Drakes: Polite Neutrality
Witch Moors: Apathy
Other Goblin Tribes: Enmity
The Storm Dragon: Beneath Notice
Lysendi Empire: Hatred
Kraakena Elves: Unknown

A/N: So, it took me a while, after half the first one got deleted. Not a lot of options yet because, well, you're goblins just starting out and you have no advisors.