It might seem odd, but although I'm only 3 posts in the title needs to change - the goblinzzzzz says zzzzz to me, and we don't want anything associated with sleep. So for now the working title has been tweaked accordingly and doing a blog is already working nicely. Thanks to those of you who stopped by already, please call again chums...


The devastation was considerable.

Burnt stumps of trees loitered forlornly at the edge of an unpleasant collection of collapsing hovels as if trying to keep away from them. The buildings didn’t look so much ruinous as abused, and were arranged in a haphazard mob about a large central structure, although structure was too kind a word. The building that lay at their centre was repulsive and huge, a legend of collapses and fires and mistreatment, its presence threatening the space around it. Beyond, the - let’s call it a village – the nearby forest had been decimated, not a single leaf grew on any tree.

The ground was just mud – and thick mud at that – which extended about a quarter of a mile around the wasteland in which nothing grew. By the disgusting collection of the score or so fleapits squatted a teetering mound of moldering filth collapsed into a huge filthy mire; the mound a flotsam apocalypse of gnawed bones, unidentified carcasses and bits of goblin. Flies buzzed contentedly, seemingly thriving in everything, making their palace in the mire.

Further away was a wide pit surrounded by spiked timbers and filled with noise.

In the distance something was singing – singing being a charitable word for the scrawking chaos of random noises and words that echoed across the blasted meadow where once birds sang, flowers grew and a brook tumbled. Somewhere even further away goblin children bit eat other and cried.