“You think yourselves goblins…” Grilkish spits as he paces in front of the quaking ilequipped younglings. “Ready to take your place in the clan. You haven’t earned the right! I’m not even sure your worth my time. Useless creatures, each and every one of you.” He taps his breastplate “I wasn’t coddled like you lot. When I’d seen fewer summers our clan was attacked, slaughtered really, by those dirt grubbing dwarves. None were spared, and everyone had to fight to survive. They’d trapped us, and we couldn’t run. So we fought. There’s nothing more tenacious than a goblin trapped. They learned that, the hard bloody way. I wear the beards of those I killed that day. I wear their armor too…. But you? You worthless mewling whelps.”
They’d been following every word, he could see it in their eyes. They wanted what he had, they wanted to proudly wear the tokens of those they would defeat.
“You’d better run and run fast. Unless you’ve got them beat six to one, you run. But you don’t just run, you run them into your traps!”
“What if there aren’t any traps?” the one called Krott asked.
“WHY WOULDN’T THERE BE TRAPS? DID YOU FORGET? WERE YOU TOO LAZY TO PROTECT YOUR CLAN?!?!”
The foolish whelp who’d asked found himself suddenly standing alone, as his fellows had all shuffled away from him. Grilkish stomped up to him, and used every inch of his 4’7” to tower over the unfortunate goblin. “Well Krott?”
He jabbered, and stuttered before Grilkish’s unblinking stare, eventually squeaking out “run ‘em into the traps.”
Grilkish patted him on the cheek. “Then what do you do?” he asked the huddled group.
A long pause before one brave soul at the back answered. “Once they’re in the trap, you get everyone together and get ‘em.”
A snaggletoothed grin broke across Grilkish’s face. “Maybe there’s a little hope for you after all.”
Grilkish, Goblin Fighter 3
Armor Class: 3
Hit Points 15 (M)
Move: 90' (30')
Attacks: 1 Sword
Save As: F3
Treasure Type: C
XP Value: 50
Grilkish is the most experienced warrior of the tribe, and wears the spoils of his victories proudly, lording it over the rest of the tribe. They accept this both because he’s the biggest and meanest of them all, but also because he did actually help save the tribe from a small party of dwarven miners who stumbled into the goblin’s den. Because of his experience, the goblins commanded by him gain a +1 bonus to their morale, and fight in a more coordinated way than goblins usually do. If they can outnumber an opponent 4:1, one can opt to assist rather than attack, giving the others a +1 to their attack rolls.