Scavengers
All this goblin week art made me wanna do a little goblin story.
The battlefield stank of sickly-sweet rot and burnt flesh, muddy brown water sat in festering trenches amidst craters and mounds of bodies. There was no birdsong in the dead tree branches, the crows and ravens fed in uncharacteristic silence on the soft flesh of elf and human, leaving the tougher hide of the orcs for the less discerning beetles and flies drawn by the dark red blood seeping into the ground.
"Ahhh... there we are boys, keep an eye-keep an eye on the birds, they'll never lead you astray, especially the clever ones..." a figure limped across the battlefield towards a mangled hunk of iron, propping themselves up with a tall metal bar as a series of silhouettes trail after them.
"Oh-hohoho! Would you look at this... do you know what this is lads?" A purple claw taps against the twisted metal, running along a seam before prying at a loose piece till it snapped free. The goblin turned her head back to them as she held it up to the dying evening light thoughtfully before sitting on an upturned stone and using it to chip away some of the dried mud covering her leathery skin.
The four apprentices line themselves up around their crippled teacher and eyed their find carefully.
"War-engine" the green one quipped, hopping atop the metal and peering inside with a grin. "Empty." he announced to the rest proudly.
"Accurate but too shallow Grinn." The teacher giggles as she gestures with both hands at the whole of the engine. "
The blue apprentice furrowed his brow as he looked over the ruined engine, hopping a few steps back while his fellows, save "Grinn" followed suit. The war-engine was a masterful feat of engineering, bigger than even the most lavish carriages, its front had an edge like a plow while three narrow rows of treads sat under it caked in a mix of mud, blood, and gore, the side had a massive hole torn in the side and one corner was sunken into the mud under the weight of the lopsided guns atop it.
The portly blue goblin's eyes widened. "No ornaments, no filigree, no markings..." he tilted his head in confusion. "Doesn't fit with Wesdren, their nobles always have them done up fancy..."
"Ah! There we are Bruum! Now, not Wesdren and they're the only human nation with the level of industry for war engines..." the purple goblin taps the side of the tank with her metal cane. "So that means it's not made by any of the Woodsies allis. What does that tell us?" She cackles as she hops up beside Grinn.
An earthy brown goblin grins as she darts in a small circle around the war-engine. "Dwarf made then. They're the only ones that don't mark up engines with this quality of metal." She jams her fist into the side of it with a resounding thud. "But all the dwarf kingdoms're supposed to be neutral in the war aren't they?"
"Yes, yes yes! So close Guuma! All of you, yes, what does this tell us, but more importantly what is the point of this lesson? Can any of you lot explain why this is important? Why do -we- Scavengers, picking across battlefields in service to the Ironblood Spire... need to pay attention to what we find instead of just stripping it down and bringing it back?" the purple goblin threw her arms out and cackled as she tumbled into the war-engine's interior before clattering around inside as she found her way back out to find the last apprentice, a stringy red fellow.
"Dwarves haven't taken a side but they're just as greedy as the Woodsies, they don't wanna stay out anymore, they're selling." the red goblin helped his teacher out of the wreckage as they both snickered and looked over the battlefield. "Kem... y'want us to take this back to Puck? If the dwarves are out but their weapons are in... that still changes everything."
"Puck? Noggin forget Puck! We'll take this to Oberon himself! Oh he'll be furious, but you know what this'll mean?" She swung herself around on her makeshift cane, practically polevaulting away from the wreckage. "Big reward for big information! More precious than a thousand scavenged bits of armor and magic baubles! C'mon my dearies! I'll race you lot back!"