"So they finally made their move, huh?", Gurk spoke
Varg frowned: "The Grey-Skinned are the oldest goblin tribe of the Island. According to our elders, they are over three hundred years old, much older than us"
Gurk nodded. The White Lion Tribe, although quite old, could be traced back to a dozen generations, roughly 120 years old. Even then, it suffered tremendously from previous wars and black forest predators.
In comparison, the Grey-Skinned had conquered a cave in the west of the island, and were protected by geographical walls and boulders. It could be considered an even better location than the Northern Coast they occupied from a defensive perspective, though Gurk would never relocate.
As a goblin shaman with elemental affinity, the Northern coast was a heaven for his cultivation and water spells. Plus, the river provided a flow of food that was crucial for the development of the tribe. And the coast resources offered a layer of defence against creatures that did not know how to swim.
After all, the Wooden Fortress, though stationary, was built on pilotis. Boars, bears, wolves would never come near salt water.
Instead of shamanism, the grey-skinned were known to be very savage, and territorial. Gurk expected conflicts with them at some points, just not so soon. After dislodging the murlocs from their natural habitats, the White Lion Tribe never ceased to gain influence.
The grey-skinned must have seen them as a threat.
"What do you think, Varg?", Gurk spoke, "You have fought them before. What do you think our chances are?"
Varg did not hesitate: "We will obliterate them"
Gurk nodded.
This was not over confidence.
The Grey-skinned, though an old tribe, only had a few beginner rank warriors. The fact that their ambush failed despite outnumbering the wolf riders ten to one was a testament to their individual inferiority.
They wore more numerous, numbering in the thousands, whereas the White Lion Tribe only had 1000 goblins. But that was all. In terms of equipment, Gurk had made sure that all warriors wore leather armours and human-inspired weapons. The quality could simply not be compared.
But perhaps the biggest gap was in magic.
Gurk was an intermediate rank shaman, with human spells.
Regular shamans only knew how to summon spirits and cast basic elemental spells. They had no concept of magical theory or human spell matrices. Gurk's spells were inherently twice, if not thrice stronger than if he were to cast them by instinct.
"Should I prepare the warriors?", Varg asked, "Twelve years ago, they drove us out of the West to the Black Forest. It is high time we pay back the favour"
Gurk revealed a terrifying smile.
"Not yet. Let us make an alliance"
Varg frowned: "Why? We are more than enough to take them on alone"
Gurk nodded: "This is true"
"Then why?"
Gurk sighed: "Varg. You are strong, but unlike what the others say, you are not wise. The White Lion Tribe has been gathering strength over the past five years, and as you said, we are very strong. But the other tribes do not know it"
There were four factions in the island. The White Lion Tribe occupied the north. The Grey Skinned occupied the West. The Blood Dagger Tribe occupied the South. The three were goblin tribes.
In the east, there was one more tribe. The Sharptooth. Lizardfolks who drifted to the island of bones, but lacked the means to get back to the main continent. Unlike the Lizardfolk Kingdom, the Sharptooth were primitive warriors that valued honor, meat and strength.
"Even if the murlocs used to be the weakest force in the island, they were still mainly untouched because of their aquatic nature and poison. With my potions, it was effortless to conquer them, but the other tribes must have noticed us and considered us a danger. What do you think will happen if we crush the grey-skinned in a similar way?"
Varg gulped: "Do you mean...They will use the opportunity to attack us?"
Gurk laughed: "How do you think we will fare against a three-way attack of lizard folks, blood dagger tribe and grey skinned?"
Varg bowed to the ground: "I almost made a grave weakness...Please enlighten us, Shaman Gurk"
Gurk smiled: "Let us visit the Sharptooth. Let's bring that bear as a peace offering. I have a grand plan that would benefit us both"
Varg hesitated: "But...the lizard folks cannot communicate with us. These primitive beasts know nothing besides growling"
"Once again with prejudice...Varg, you truly are hopeless. Thank the White Lion Spirit you can fight with axes..."