A couple of days had passed since Zal’Rodal had found the entrance to the dungeon and captured the adventurers that had attacked his first hideout in an ambush. Together with Migaal, he had overseen the goblins' repair and cleanup of the dungeon, although it was far from perfect the ferret had now started referring to his seat of power as liveable. The demon of presence was a constant companion to the Dark Lord these days, always ready to criticise any decision that was made. He had become accustomed to the little voice on his shoulder making a comment or complaint whenever he did anything. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, he started to notice improvements around him. He walked straighter and with more purpose, his underlings ceased their goblining and greeted him when he entered a room and waited for him to say something. Zal’Rodal had long forgotten what it felt like to have true authority over someone, and it had taken the blasted ferret less than a week to accomplish these changes.
Today he would start his travels into the mountains to discover the identity of the camp's furry observers. He would then subjugate or exterminate them depending on how they acted. Zal’Rodal also wanted to take care of the business in the dungeon but decided to leave the adventurers a little longer in the capable hands of Guglak and his goblins, surely they would break under constant goblin supervision.
Zal’Rodal stood at the castle’s gates, the gatehouse itself had already been repaired and made usable although the gate itself currently consisted of two large wooden boards that were stuck in place. He waited as a group of goblins heaved one of the boards out of the frame and dropped it in the courtyard so that he could venture outside the castle. The scout reports had become more frequent and he was eager to discover what had gotten his goblins to become so nervous. He hoped that the creatures hadn’t moved too far away from where they were last sighted, otherwise, this would turned into a needlessly long excursion. The Dark Lord left the castle on that day accompanied only by Migaal, who was still perched on his shoulder, and a young goblin whose role could be accurately described as a pack mule. The goblin carried their supplies, food and water, their bedrolls and some firewood in case they could not find any on the mountain. The luggage was stuffed into two large sacks which he carried on his back, which made his back contort much the same way a tree did during a heavy storm.
The three of them departed towards the Peaks of Dornon to find out what should be done with the creatures. Zal’Rodal wished to be able to bring them under his banner to swell his growing horde of waist-high minions. He knew nothing of the creatures apart from that which his scouts reported. The creatures were small and furry, he would have assumed the goblins had seen an animal of some sort if there hadn’t been so many identical reports claiming that it walked on two legs.
The sun bore down upon them as they travelled up the mountain. Any trace of snow had melted away weeks ago. The path they travelled on if it could be called that, was simply the least steep area of the mountain and the one that required the least amount of climbing. Although walking up the mountain did not pose a problem for them, Migaal could not help but complain the entire way. It was too demeaning for a Dark Lord to be trudging through muddy slopes up a mountain, somebody else should be sent, the ferret complained. Zal’Rodal ignored his companion's complaints, he wanted to see these creatures himself, he also did not trust the capability of goblins to partake in the art of diplomacy. If anyone should have been complaining it was the goblin trailing behind them on all fours.
They had trudged up for hours and the sun had already moved past its highest point when they decided to take a break. The goblin had found a suitable spot at an outcropping that protected them from the wind and was large enough to unpack on comfortably. The culinary extent of their packed food did not extend past dried meat, hard cheese, and harder bread. Zal’Rodal sat down next to the goblin, whose name he now knew to be Glol and began to eat. He raised a piece of bread to his shoulder so that Migaal could eat something but the ferret jumped off his shoulders instead and looked around.
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“I will not be eating stale bread and dry meat,” the ferret huffed, “and neither should a Dark Lord for that matter.”
“What’s wrong with bread and cheese?” he retorted, “I haven’t seen you complain about the food before so I do not see why you must complain now.”
“Deliciouz food!” Glol exclaimed before ripping and tearing into another piece of dried meat.
“I have not complained about the food because I have been preparing my own,” Migaal said. The ferret waved a paw around and immediately a small wooden table along with a cushioned chair appeared on the mountainous floor. A second wave of the paw produced a number of plates filled with exquisite dishes, roasted chicken, elaborate soups, pies and everything else which suited a king's dining hall. Migaal gave the Dark Lord a look, sat on his cushioned chair and began eating.
Zal’Rodal approached the table and sat down next to Migaal. He then began eating the magically appearing foods ignoring his companion's complaints. “I thought you were happy with bread and cheese? Why must you devour my own food now?” The ferret complained. Zal’Rodal ignored him and beckoned Glol to sit down next to them and handed him some of the food.
“It seems we won’t need provisions anymore. Be sure to thank Migaal for lightening your load. ” Zal’Rodal said to Glol as he patted ferret on the head “You may leave the bags lying around Glol, I believe we won’t need any more provisions, isn’t that right?” he turned and gave the ferret a look.
They finished eating and left behind one of the sacks that the goblin had carried up the mountain and prepared themselves to face the mountain anew. The winds that moments before had merely been strong now felt like repeated ice baths that threatened to toss them off the mountain. Migaal clung to the Dark Lord’s clothing and the goblin held on to his arm lest he flew off with the wind. They had found tufts of fur stuck between some of the rocks as they approached the mountaintop, they were getting closer to the creatures’ trail. They reached the peak soon after, and the valleys and forests spread out before them. They could see the castle in the distance the goblins milling about. Everything was in sight from atop the peak, everything except the creatures they were looking for.
Zal’Rodal paced around the flattened peak, he looked around his surroundings for any further clues of the creatures but he did not even find fur as he had before nor any prints on the mountaintop. He crossed his arms and stood at the precipice analysing the distant surroundings, perhaps he could build a watchtower here in the future. Then he heard a strange sound and turned around. Glol, the young goblin had sat down on a small rock, he hugged his cape tightly to his body while his misaligned teeth rattled. The ground shifted beneath the goblin and before Zal’Rodal could do anything the floor opened up and devoured the goblin before closing again, leaving no trace of the goblin.
“What was that?” Zal’Rodal asked. He looked at the spot on which Glol had sat just moments before, the ground looked perfectly normal and the stone was still there as well. He reached out his hand towards the rock, feeling for his lost underling who was no longer there. A moment later, the ground shifted once again and Zal’Rodal was devoured by the earth as well. He was thrown into a large stone tunnel, he slid deeper and deeper into the insides of the mountain. He tried to grab the walls and put out his legs to slow his fall but was unable to catch a foothold. With a crash, he landed in a dark room, the landing far softer than he would have expected.
“Get off me, I can’t breathez,” a voice squealed under Zal’Rodal and he rolled to the side, “Thank youz,”
The Dark Lord stood up and whipped the dust off his clothing while Migaal who still remained on his shoulder created a fire floating just above his paws. They were in a cave, deep inside the mountain, the only way out was another darker tunnel leading out of the cave. The hole they had appeared from was now completely hidden by the stone ceiling.
