Lord Of Goblins

Inside a small room filled with wooden carvings and a few carving knives, a tune was being played. It was a sad tune speaking of the misery of the world, and it was played by a miserable middle-aged grey bogey.

It would be a wonder for greyborns outside his circle if they knew that he knew how to play the flute, and it would be a wonder for the upper class of bogeys that he chose a flute. There was nothing wrong with flutes in general, but in bogey society, they belonged to the hands of priests and poets while warriors and nobles played the lur. And this man was no priest or poet, but he was neither a warrior nor noble. He was a greyborn, but not just any greyborn; he was a leader.

He played his tune while thinking of the joke that was life, especially his life. His miserable life whose existence was rejected by his highborn father, his miserable life that made him feel the disdain from his lowborn mother who blamed him for ruining her own life, his miserable life that forced him to feel pain as he received blow after blow from the brute that she married to not only hide the truth of his birth but also increase her own standing among the other greyborns, the miserable life that led to the daily insults and beatings he got from their neighbors who hated his 'father' but couldn't do anything about him because he was a leader of the local gang except taking their anger on the boy because the pig didn't care about him and actually encouraged the beatings, his miserable life that made him acknowledge early on the fact that nobody cared about him.

He was born to misery, and in his youth, he believed it was the norm. He rarely cried and when he did nobody answered, neither god nor man. He understood from an early age that he was alone and his pain didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

To him, it seemed like his life wouldn't change, but like all creatures, one day he grew up and as he grew up he became stronger. But that wasn't what changed him. He got help. Not from another greyborn, but from observing another creature; a rat. In his early teens, he was forced to fight in a gambling ring prepared by the brute's gang in order to pay back some of the debt that he 'owed' his family as gratitude for raising him, and as he was returning home after being forced to fight a small captured hiveling; he saw a few of the neighbouring boys trying to raise rats and do the same by making them fight for their entertainment. They used to torture the rats and keep them hungry to make them aggressive, and it worked for a while as the rats did fight each other for the boys' scraps until one of the rats finally snapped and bit back its owner. It couldn't take the abuse any longer.

The teen came to a realization. 'If an animal couldn't accept being mistreated, why should I?'.

He then saw the boys kill the rat and remembered why. The price could be death and that drove fear into his heart, but even so, the spark of rebellion bloomed inside of his heart.

It kept growing and growing, day after day, and he kept watching the rats growing more rebellious as well. The boys, too prideful to be bested by rodents, kept killing more rats each day to no avail as the rats resisted despite the odds. He asked himself why did they fight despite knowing that they can't win? Why choose defiance over life? And then as he saw the last rat still snarling in defiance at the boys even in its last moments with a knife stuck in its side, it clicked in his mind.

"It's not a living." He told himself.

He won't allow anyone to control him. He will free himself.

Even if failure meant death, so what? He'll eventually die.

Even if he'll suffer for it, so what? He's already suffering.

Even if it's wrong and he'll be cursed by the gods by committing a sacrilegious act that was the slaying of kin, so what? What right do the gods, who ignore not only him but many more, have to decide that someone has to live through this hell? Their worthless laws? They can shove those up their asses!

He won't abide by anyone's laws ever again. He vowed that he won't be shackled by neither order nor moral code. For as long as he lives, he will be controller and not the controlled.

He steeled his resolve and plotted his parents' demise.

At the time, he might've been unlearnt in the ways of the world but he was no fool. He knew that though he could win against his bastard of a stepfather, he would be severely injured leaving him at the mercy of his mother; so he concocted a plan. It was a simple plan that could've been foiled easily had his parents saw him as a threat, but they were also stuck in their delusion that they would always be in control of him.

He poisoned their food. It wasn't a lethal poison, but a sleeping agent that he stole from a known herbalist near the gambling ring. His plan wasn't to simply kill them, he needed to be feared to avoid the wrath of his stepfather's gang. He wanted to make them his own. They ridiculed him for they have only known him as his father's little slave boy, but they also respected his strength. He only needed to break their first image of him to make them fall in line, and that was simple.

In the dead of night, horrid screams woke many from their sleep. They rushed out from their homes to see what was the commotion, and they wished that they never saw it. It was the old crime boss screeching from pain as his 'own' son cut off his arms and legs up to their joints with a stone-headed axe. And that wasn't all, he then proceeded to skin the man alive to the horror of his audience. They hated the old bastard and wanted him dead and it doesn't take a genius to realize what he did to the boy on a daily basis, but this was too cruel for them. At that night many of them released the contents of their stomachs and the others followed suit when he did the same to his mother.

The boy looked at the crowd, especially at the gathering of thugs who stood there horrified at what had become of their leader, and spoke "Tonight you witnessed the end of the old pig. Now tell me… Who do you now serve!?".

They then realized what exactly happened. A new leader was born and his name was-

"Oi, Boss!" Yelled a man as he slammed the door open disrupting both the music and the musician, Vyrga, from his thoughts.

"You better have something important Os, or it's your head that's going to be rolling today." Said Vyrga in a grim tone. He hates it when people disrupt him when he's performing one of his hobbies.

Oswald, nicknamed Os, chuckled as he's sure that most people would be shocked if they found out that one of the bloodiest gang leaders among the greyborns spends his free time not only playing the flute but carving wood and poetry. If they heard he was carving something, he bets all his merits that they would assume it would be the living skull of a v.i.r.g.i.n maiden to make a new cup, not a chunk of wood in the shape of a bird. Whatever a bird is.

'Well, that's the type of person he makes himself to be…' Os sighed as he'd known Vyrga since he was a child. It could be said that Vyrga raised him.

During the early days of his reign, Vyrga wanted to build his own group of loyal subordinates to replace the majority of the old bastard's circle. So he searched for other abandoned noble bastards like himself and trained them to be his own elite force, different from the sc.u.m that make up the rest of his organization. In the end, he managed to find ten such cases with Os being the third oldest among them. None of them know why he chose to train them instead of normal children, but they do know that he doesn't even see a difference between a powerful chief and a crippled beggar. For him, life is life and the end of all life is death. Maybe it's due to empathy that he chose them as they can be considered kindred spirits, or maybe it was to possibly establish more connections with some of the tribe's nobles. After all, he did sell his wife to one of the nobles after finding out that she was cheating on him and that the twins weren't his. At least he didn't sell the twins, but he did secretly move them to the other side of his territory away from his base. In any case, almost all of them were thankful for his care. Almost all of them...

"You were right… Gelmar is a traitor…".

"Figures..." Vyrga spat in disdain knowing from early on that Gelmar couldn't be trusted, yet he wished that he was wrong. Since Gelmar was the first child that joined him. To him, Gelmar was a brother and a friend.

"Why is he doing it though? Why is he planning to take over?".

"Don't fool yourself, Os. We all knew that he was power-hungry. It didn't sit well with him that you and Heimo are more likely to succeed me. But unlike Ludger and Bolo, he doesn't respect me enough to wait till I die before enacting his plan. He wants to take everything for himself.".

"Wait… what? Ludger and Bolo want to take over as well?" asked Os in shock.

"No, the brothers spoke to me earlier and they told me that if anything happens to me, they will leave and form their own gang. Ludger doesn't find you fit to be my replacement, and we both know that Bolo is always following behind his older brother. You and Ludger were always competing against each other for the position of my second in command and he isn't that far behind in terms of skill and competence, which makes him justifiably unsatisfied with the decision.".

"If we're equal, why did you choose me?".

"Because you're the cool-headed one while he has quite the temper.".

Os didn't look too convinced that that was the only reason as due to past experiences he knows that there are times that do not need a calm and thoughtful leader like him, but they need one with a fury that can inspire his men to march through hell such as Ludger.

"And between you and me, I get along with you more." continued Vyrga with a grin.

"I see…" Os replied, half grateful and half disappointed. Though he appreciates that Vyrga favours him, he isn't satisfied that he was chosen due to favouritism. Not to mention he doesn't find it right that his rival should be dismissed for such a reason.

Before he could open his mouth, Vyrga explained "Ludger knows the true reason and he has no problem with it. He knows that you're closer to me and my ideals than he or any of the others will be, and he doesn't hate you for it.".

"Does he hate you?".

"Not really." Vyrga shrugged "I kept teaching you that the world isn't fair, but so what? Just make your own path if the current one doesn't work out for you. Don't let anything stop you, whether it be laws, morals, society, the gods, or a traitorous idiot who thinks he's smart enough to use your own philosophy against you. The only act that you should never do is unjustified treachery." He growled.

"Oh, right. What'll we do about Gelmar?".

"Remember when I told you to send the deserter's head to the fledgeling?".

"To Gherm? Yes, yes I did. It wasn't just a mere warning, right? And wasn't the punishment to Pog a bit extreme?".

"To answer your first question; no, it was a mere warning, but not for the reason that you think. It was to rile him up before testing him."

Os' eyes widened after realizing Vyrga's plan "You're going to send Gelmar to attack him.".

"Yup." Vyrga replied with a grin "I heard about how he's training his men and believe me, he's not training them to play lord of the slums, he's training an army. He's as ambitious as I am.".

"And if he fails?".

"Then he isn't worth much. Would be a shame really, our world lacks people who can stand against its corrupt values.".

Os nodded "Now on to the next question, wasn't the punishment too extreme?".

"For a deserter? Not really. People like that agree to commit all sorts of crimes and atrocities when it conveniences them, but when they have their fill, they think that they can wash their hands just like that. They excuse their actions by saying that they had no other choice even though I didn't force them to kill and ****. I actually dislike such transgressions.".

"Yet you don't stop them. No offence, boss, but that's hypocrisy.".

"It is, but if I have to stop every sadistic idiot that does the first thing on his mind, we'd never have grown this big. Besides, infamy has its uses. It gets these sc.u.m in line. And we won't keep them forever, they'll be purged as fodder when it's time to break our shackles.".

"But what about the kids? Since when do we kill kids?".

Vyrga sighed in regret "We don't. I left the task of killing the lout to Gelmar and he took it too far. Thankfully, Bolo managed to save the wife and daughter and sneak them out of our territory with some extra merits. That won't stop them from hating us, but it's better than nothing. Though considering that the deed's been done, I did agree for using their heads.".

"That's horrible…".

"It is, but we do what we need to do." Said Vyrga with a sigh.

"…".

"We can regret our actions later, it's time to call Gelmar. Tell him to gather his men and prepare to attack.".

"Alright, boss." Replied Os before leaving the room.

Once again, Vyrga was by his lonesome so he grabbed his flute and raised it to his lips.

'Don't disappoint me Gherm. If that's who you really are.' He thought with a smirk before playing his sad tune once again.