Thulka made up her mind, and tugged Enormerous' reins to the right. Raiding was getting boring, she needed a change of pace. Regardless of whether the goblins would be cowed into submission without a fight, or in need of having some sense pounded into them, either result would be a welcome distraction.
She rode on, down into the dale, the signs of a goblin infestation growing more and more evident. Low-hanging branches snapped off of trees, stones and anthills overturned and cleaned out, and gnaw marks on pretty much everything. Another hour of riding and a great goblin warren stood before her, the earthen mound pockmarked with holes to clamber into and out of, and a set of gates made of pig bones tied with twine barred the largest opening. Thulka snorted. She could've broken it down with a sneeze. Instead, she'd make her presence known another way.
She dismounted Enormerous, and, Head-Smasherizer in hand, bellowed out her most intimidating war cry.
The response was swift, if rather panicked. A few goblins tumbled out of the upper stories in surprise, but by the time they scrabbled back in, armed guards had emerged, heads protected by cow-skull helms, flint-tipped spears clutched in gnarled hands.
All grew quiet. The goblin guardsmen steeled themselves. Thulka smirked. A hundred of them couldn't have stopped her, clobbering this handful wouldn't even be good exercise. She tensed her muscles, and then...
A loud, obnoxious sound pierced the silence, like a bone-saw through a roasted fellswine haunch. It had come from inside the goblin hold. A call to arms?
"All hail Chief Fuzgriggle!" shrieked a reedy, nasally voice from behind the bone gates, which shortly swung open after another noisome blast from the goblin horn.
The two guards flung themselves to the ground as a pompous-looking goblin sauntered out of the gate, followed by a timid entourage of servants. The carved stump on his head and worg-pelt cape wrapped round his bony shoulders marked him as a chieftain, and only he seemed unafraid of the interloper that stood before them.
"Greetings, Thulka Thudcrush!" the lead goblin whinged, raising an arm magnanimously. "And welcome!"
"How have you come to know my name, little green-skin?" Thulka asked, lowering her club, but only a few inches.
"How could I not? The mighty ogress who's ravaged the Northern countryside for half a season, striking fear in the hearts of every tall-folk and point-ear in the downs? Your reputation precedes you, Lady Thudcrush."
Thulka had never been called 'Lady' before. She decided she didn't like it. "Cease your flattery, toad! Why do you dare approach me? You've something cooking in that filthy little skull of yours, haven't you? Out with it!"
"Straight to the point, eh? Admirable." The chief goblin let out a little chuckle, like swamp water gurgling down a rusty drain. "You're quite right, of course. I've not come forth from the safety of my throne-pit to shower an invader with blandishments. I've a proposition for you, Lady Thudcrush..."
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