Goblins: Love of the Storms

*On their way to the island of Agnor in the spring of 6278, the crew of* the Drunken Dragon *encountered a goblin junker called* the Sparker. *They were welcomed aboard, and from the matron of the vessel, an elderly woman named Caerwyn, they heard the founding myth of the sea-faring people:*

Long ago and far from here, the hobgoblins ruled with unchallenged authority. Smarter than the sharpest bugbear, stronger than the mightiest goblin, none could hope to challenge the rule of the hobs, and the homeland was theirs in each and every sense. Those of green skin were nothing more than slaves, dying every day to lay the foundations of a kingdom of stone and steel.

But one day, there rose a truly great goblin, one who was to be a hero to all the small of the homeland. This was the carpenter Branwen. So skilled at making was this goblin that a great spirit of the sea, a creature once named Cath Palug, bestowed unto Branwen a boon of knowledge. And so it was that Branwen learned to craft vessels that would float atop the water. But Cath Palug was not a selfless thing. It gave Branwen this gift, not to help goblin-kind, but so it could make its own departure. The sea spirit detested the hobs' metals more than anything, and so it longed to escape their lands just as much as those of green skin did.

And escape they all might. This vessel could be the salvation of all goblins! For the hobs would never cross the sea in such a way. All the small might one day be free!

When the time of action came, Branwen and his people constructed their great ark in a single night. They pushed it out to sea as the sun rose, and scrambled aboard with the hobs shouting word of their flight to their armies. But no goblin knew how to sail a vessel! Cath Palug entered the wood and took control of the vessel, steering them away. But even then it was not enough. For the hobs had their own methods, and though they'd never float atop the waves, their kingdom was one of mighty bridges that stretched across the whole world. They marched atop their bridges now, an army in quick pursuit of the fleeing goblins. The hobs would chase them to the ends of the world.

Branwen knew his people would not survive, not unless he did something drastic. And so he made a choice. The goblins took the steel they had worked with for a hundred generations and they coated their ship, turning it into something mighty, something that would weather anything. The steel was poison for Cath Palug, of course, and it screeched in pain as it died, vowing never to forget Branwen's betrayal. Then it shattered into dust and was scattered to the wind and waves.

Branwen and his people took their metal ship and steered it right into the heart of a mighty storm. The hobs tried to follow them, determined to never let them escape. But the storm sundered the pursuers. It rent their bridges to naught and swept their armies to the sea foam far below.

Branwen's mighty ship survived.

Those of green skin passed through the storm and saw a new dawn on its other side. A new world lay before them. The sky and sea had never looked so calm and inviting - so like a home. They all revelled in that space beyond the storm, beyond bonds and slavery, where they might live free.