What is your name?"
The scarred goblin shuddered violently, then emitted an even more pitiful whimper.
"King… I… am unworthy of… a name…"
"From this moment, you shall have one. You are Shatteredtooth."
"Yes! Yes! I am Shatteredtooth!! Great… King!! Follow me!"
Shatteredtooth scrambled to his feet with excited flailing limbs, scrambling ahead to lead the way.
The other goblins scrambled to their feet as well, trailing far behind like the most submissive servants.
Guided by Shatteredtooth, we traversed a death zone thick with poisonous miasma, finally reaching the goblin tribe's lair.
When Shatteredtooth appeared with me, Lila in tow, the entire camp erupted!
Terrified screams, chaotic stampedes and the clang of clashing weapons filled the air.
But when Shatteredtooth snarled in sharp goblin tongue:
"Kneel! The new king!" and once more led them in prostration, the chaos seemed to hit pause.
Under countless gazes, I carried Lila like a sovereign surveying his domain, advancing step by step towards the camp's centre, a bonfire blazing with an eerie green flame.
There, an aged goblin shaman clad in a tattered feather cloak and wielding a twisted bone staff, stared at me with cloudy, bewildered eyes.
I placed Lila upon a relatively clean stone and countless greedy eyes turned once more towards her.
I turned, facing the entire tribe, unleashing the full weight of my goblin bloodline's authority!
"ROAR !!!"
A deafening roar, brimming with boundless ferocity and absolute dominion, swept through the entire lair like a tempest!
The campfire flames were nearly extinguished. Every goblin, young and old, male and female, was shaken to their very core by this soul-shaking roar. They felt as though an invisible giant hand had slammed them to the ground, unable even to lift their heads!
Even the old shaman trembled and fell to his knees.
The roar echoed through the cavern for an eternity.
"My name is Glak!"
My voice rang crystal clear in the deathly silent lair, spoken in the common tongue to ensure Lila understood, yet the sheer weight of Goblin King authority it carried sent shivers through every green-skinned creature's soul.
"My bloodline surpasses yours! My strength shall crush you!"
"Those who obey me shall gain flesh, gain females, gain life!"
"Those who defy me…"
"…shall die!!!"
Absolute silence. Only the crackling of flames and heavy breathing could be heard.
The old shaman was the first to react. It struggled to crawl to my feet, banging its withered forehead frantically against the cold ground, bellowing in a raspy goblin tongue.
"King! Great King Glak! The Bone-Shatter Clan… submits! We offer you everything! Flesh! Females! Life!"
"We submit! King Glak!"
"Offer everything!"
Shatteredtooth and the other goblins snapped from their stupor, erupting in a frenzied, ragged chorus. Like the most devout worshippers beholding a descending deity, their terror had transformed into blind adoration of absolute power.
I surveyed the green forms prostrate upon the ground with satisfaction. The first step of conquest had proceeded more smoothly than anticipated.
Just then, from an area enclosed by a crude wooden palisade at the camp's edge, came suppressed sobs and terrified whimpers.
A girl who appeared no older than sixteen or seventeen huddled in a corner, her legs splayed wide, unable to close.
Her tender flower-like opening was already swollen and reddened, the delicate petals of her flesh torn and turned inside out like a pink clam forcibly pried open, revealing the damp, slightly twitching flesh within. A cloudy white fluid slowly oozed from the gaping orifice, trickling down the trembling inner thighs.
Beside her lay a voluptuous young woman, her belly visibly swollen with pregnancy, its rounded curve seeming to pulsate with life.
Yet more striking were the pair of mature, ample breasts upon her chest!
Dark areolas were laced with teeth marks, while two purple-grape-like nipples stood erect, uncontrollably spurting thin streams of milky-white fluid with a sweet, salty tang. These splattered across her mud-stained belly and the earth beneath her, leaving small wet patches.
Her gaze was unfocused, her face flushed with utter surrender to desire. One hand unconsciously kneaded her other swollen breast, while the other reached towards her equally mud-soiled vagina. Her fingertips, coated in the mingled filth, emitted satisfied, sticky moans.
Further away, a woman in her forties, still possessing a certain allure, knelt in an exceedingly wanton posture.
Her mature, voluptuous body bore countless fingerprints and kiss marks. Her rounded buttocks were thrust high, offering themselves to the goblins passing beyond the fence.
Both her flower and her rosebush bore the loose, well-used appearance of long-term use, wet and gaping open. With deliberate writhing, the pink, tender flesh within could be seen quivering faintly.
A fawning smile graced her face as her dazed eyes followed the hideous green-skinned creatures, her throat emitting low, cat-like moans, as if craving the next round of favour.
At the centre of this scene of depravity, a woman who appeared to be around fifty, her dignity still intact, fiercely shielded the young girl whose legs could not close.
She too stood naked, the years and torment etched more deeply upon her form.
With her own body, she shielded the girl behind her as best she could, though her own legs, overused, could not fully close. The gaping, torn cleft between them was faintly visible in the mud.
With every ounce of strength, she suppressed the lingering physiological reactions from her body's over-exploitation, a muffled sob rising from her throat a jarring contrast to the surrounding, intoxicated moans.
"What is that…?" I turned to Shatteredtooth.
Shatteredtooth hastily answered, his voice thick with obsequiousness.
"Your Majesty! That… that is the tribute sent by the Holy Nest Sisters! Fresh! Barely… barely used!"
It rubbed its hands together, its yellow eyes gleaming with greed.
"The Holy Nest Sisters?" A thought stirred within me.
"Yes… yes, Lord!" Old Shaman chimed in, his voice tinged with reverence.
"The Holy Nest Sisters… are a group… of human females… watered with our goblin… seed… They… they worship the power of our seed… craving to bear… our offspring… They capture more high-grade females… to offer to mighty nests… in exchange… in exchange for another chance to feel the blessing of the Sacred Seed…"
His description was jumbled, yet the meaning was clear.
I turned to the old shaman, still prostrate on the ground and asked in a low voice, using Goblin tongue.
"What is your name? Goblin, how does one grow stronger? How does a shaman like you attain such power? Are there other mighty fiends lurking in these swamps?"
A flicker of surprise crossed the old shaman's cloudy yellow eyes, swiftly replaced by deeper reverence. It struggled to form words, its reply rasping.
"Great… King Glak… I… am Dryclaw… Goblins… grow stronger… two paths…"
"First… Conquest! Swallow other tribes… make more greenskins… kneel before the King! Subjugated souls… will… will nourish the King's might!"
He gazed at me with reverence, clearly believing my instant subjugation of the entire tribe placed me at the pinnacle of this path.
"The second…" A flicker of primal greed and murky light passed through Dryclaw's eyes.
"Females! Strong… noble bloodlines! Conquer… superior females! Make them… bear mighty offspring for the King's bloodline! The more offspring… the stronger the bloodline… the King's power… grows… grows…"
It seemed unable to find the precise words, waving its arms.
"Like stoking a fire… adding fuel! Making it burn brighter! Or…"
It pointed at its own crude feather and bone adornments, "Like Dryclaw… learning… Learning from Humans… those… strange… powers… spells? But it's hard… far too hard! None of the greenskins… truly know… how far… to go…"
"Dryclaw… has lived long… had many… female offspring… many too… Within the tribe… already the… mightiest shaman… but… like Your Majesty… innate… such great power… Dryclaw… dared not even dream…" It bowed deeply once more.
I stroked my chin. Dryclaw's words confirmed some of my conjectures, yet they were steeped in goblinish chaos and limitation.
Conquest and procreation instincts carved into their very bones.
The swiftest path to greater strength now lay in collaborating with the "Holy Nest Sisters" luring more females into the nest while subjugating goblin tribes.
Yet with high-caliber females like Mother Celia and Lila, commonplace women scarcely held my interest. But noble, powerful beings like the princess and queen of Lordaeron were beyond my reach for now. One couldn't very well fill Lila's womb with my seed daily.
"Do you know who leads the Holy Nest Sisters?" I pressed.
Dryclaw shook his head, stammering.
In the ensuing silence, Lila suddenly spoke.
"Master… I am willing to tame a new, noble… bitch for you."
Meeting my scrutinising gaze, her sapphire-like pupils seemed to ignite with a fiery resolve.
"I… happen to know the most suitable candidate."
"Knight Evelyn of the Silverthorn family."
"Her noble bloodline, her haughty spirit, shall be the most perfect offering and breeding ground for you and the Holy Mother."
"I possess a means… to guide her willingly into the sacred nest of this Rotten Bone Marsh." Lila's lips slowly curved into an eerie smile, her beautiful eyes glinting with cunning intelligence.
It dawned on me belatedly why Mother Celia had chosen Lila as my first bitch. Perhaps it wasn't merely her bloodline and sacred egg, but also her inherently sharp intellect.