The reconstruction of Skreech, part 1

Date: 9/18/2013 at 16:04
From: Anonymous
To : Everyone
Subj: The reconstruction of Skreech, part 1

Sproket rubbed his hands together, satisfied with the growing mound of supplies laid out before him. It had been hard-going since he had left Sar-Sargoth at the end of the war with Kesh, but things were finally beginning to improve.

The goblins of Skreech had been decimated by the war. Upon the war's conclusion and Kesh's defeat, Sproket had returned to Skreech, gathered the few healthy survivors, and vanished into the forest. They had lived there as their ancestors had: scavenging, moving silently, and repopulating (Sproket momentarily grinned as he recalled his part in those efforts). It had taken years, but now their numbers were sufficient to reclaim and rebuild their home. Sproket had led the goblins into the village and quickly barricaded the entrance so that they would be undisturbed while they worked.

It would take much of a season to restore the town, to tend to the goblins who had stayed behind, and to be prepared to face the wider world once more. Still, the outside world did not seem particularly interested in giving the goblins of Skreech respite. Adventurers had come: humans, moredhel, and goblins from the distant North.

Sproket chuckled, pleased with his own wiliness. The Northerners had wanted him to sign over the loyalties of Skreech in return for supplies, but he had cleverly changed the terms of their own treaty. Others, too, had donated food, weapons, clothing, and other supplies to Skreech. Not once since he had taken up position outside the barricade had he been forced to summon the band of goblins hidden nearby, laying in wait to defend their home.

Sproket snapped out of his reverie long enough to shout some orders at a group of nearby workers. The goblins of Skreech had not been distributing the food donations appropriately, and Sproket had had to enter Skreech proper to set things right.

Judging that it was time to return to his post, Sproket reflected that their luck couldn't hold for long. Sooner or later someone who hated his kind would become aware of the activity in Skreech, and then goblin blood would begin to mingle with the stream of donated supplies.

Sproket shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of fears. Thus far, those outside Skreech seemed more interested in helping than hurting his cause, and perhaps his luck would hold, after all...

Penned by my hand on the 37th of Dzanin, in the year 50.