The orc tribes lived by a simple, savage rule: Anyone could challenge a chief, at a time and place of the challenger’s choosing.
The warlords jostled for position, crushing underfoot the goblin-slaves, who suffered in silence and clutched their secret, hoarded hatreds to their hearts like gold.
Until the tribe stole the secrets of the gunpowder from the dwarves.
No one noticed the goblin approach. “I challenge you here, now,” he said, and from under his rags drew a long pistol. A flash, a roar, and he became king.
He ruled a fortnight, until someone made a blunderbuss.
The warlords jostled for position, crushing underfoot the goblin-slaves, who suffered in silence and clutched their secret, hoarded hatreds to their hearts like gold.
Until the tribe stole the secrets of the gunpowder from the dwarves.
No one noticed the goblin approach. “I challenge you here, now,” he said, and from under his rags drew a long pistol. A flash, a roar, and he became king.
He ruled a fortnight, until someone made a blunderbuss.
No comments:
Post a Comment