Inaction v. Initiative

I pushed my way through the crowd, and reached one of the entrances to the hall. The Crawgoblins, upon realizing who I was, reluctantly made way and let me pass through. I entered upon the Highgoblins engaging in a frenzied debate.

“I disagree. We must send out forces to assist chiefs Hardalgmar and Baldrenraz lest they succumb to the dread lynxes.”

“Keh! Our Goblin and Hobgoblin troops ain’t gonna cut it against those fleabags! Only us and the Crawgoblin unit can handle ‘em, simple as.”

“So you’re saying we should wipe out at their den by the mine? That’s impossible. We’d be stretched thin.”

“All you think about is going on the offense, but the truth of the matter is that we need to prepare the defenses for another attack,” one Highgoblin slammed the table, “They’ve been attacking us daily, how are we going to survive another attack, huh?!”

“First things first, we need to rectify the army’s disorganizati-“

“Nay! We must elect someone to take charge first.”

“We’ve been debating that issue for the past four months, and now you want to settle the issue just as two chiefs are absent?!”

Eight out of the nine present Highgoblins were screeching from the back of their throats, interrupting and rejecting any and all propositions made by anyone. Whilst they bickered amongst themselves, the townsmen were drowning in despair and anxiety without any guidance from their betters. It made me furious. I understand the need to discuss matters, to agree and compromise on the best possible solution, even if it really isn’t the best solution at all or even the right one, I do understand the need to discuss it beforehand. But then again, that doesn’t mean I should have to accept such discussions in the first place. This tribe is leaderless, the higher ups can’t decide on a high chief, and all the while everyone suffers in despair; it’s the worst. This matter does not require consultation, it requires initiative.

My uncle, who has been sitting silently while the rest were on their feet arguing, noticed me and proceeded to nudge chiefess Maraldnund to sit down. It seemed like my uncle had let chiefess Maraldnund do the debating for him whilst he observed the rest and seemed to be deep in thought. My entrance had woken him up, and he rose on his feet to engage in the discussion himself.

“Hear!” he bellowed. His voice was deeper, more mature, and his intonation richer with authority than any of the chiefs present. With this bellow, he subjugated everyone into silence. Usually, chiefs Hardalgmar and Baldrenraz could oppose and shut him down regardless, but they weren’t here.

“You must all surely recognize at this point—and none of sound intellect and moral character would disagree—that we must enthrone a ruler to lead and command us, for I daresay our kind cannot live without order nor structure! Will any of you—those who uphold wisdom and tradition—think of a more dire condition than our current plight to spur you into action, to elevate our state of being to a higher form? Behold my nephew, who has come to you a reformed man of value and merit, who is but the only Goblin King to have spawned since the age of Olfrik, will you then not—those of reason and righteousness—swear to him your eternal fidelity and sword?”

I saw through my uncle’s speech. He was a demagogue, smooth with his words and deceptive in his language. By constantly bringing up certain values like intellect and righteousness, he was manipulating the crowd into believing that anyone who disagreed with him would have to disavow these same values. I knew it all too well, as student of politics. Was he naturally this silver-tongued, or did he learn to do this somewhere?

Despite my uncle’s monologue—a concoction of truth and deception—the Highgoblins remained hesitant. There was something bothering them that prevented them from agreeing. I could hardly understand. Yes, my uncle was playing the crowd, but his reasoning was solid, no? The Ausmulii has been stagnant ever since they started ruling by council rather than monarchy. All the Highgoblins understand the fact that they must elect someone as their leader, because they desire it too. Yet they remain hesitant to choose me, the strongest of them all, let alone anyone else.

“…We… await the seal of approval from chief Hardalgmar, for we would never decide upon a matter without his input,” one Highgoblin—the one named Frakaldhelm—spoke up with melancholy in his tone and a pained expression on his face.

To me, it was evident. These folk wanted to agree to my uncle’s proposition, but they held too much respect for chief Hardalgmar to make a decision without him. If I still wanted to be king, which of course I do, I would have to win chief Hardalgmar’s approval.

The hall was silent. It was so quiet that the clamoring townsmen outside were starting to become audible in the room. Ignoring the pleas for guidance, the discussion amongst the Highgoblins slowly recommenced.

I was frustrated at their inaction, but touched by their loyalty. It was still twisted, of course. In this time of disunity, they ought to come together to take action for the sake of their tribe, their people, their kin. If they weren’t going to take any initiative, I would have to do so myself.

I looked at my frowning uncle, who was clearly irked by the other chiefs’ stonewalling, and rightly so. He was probably thinking something among the lines of: This is why goblins are so stuck in the mud like the backwards people we are. I saw that as way out of line. In fact, I believed the opposite. It is because these Highgoblins are so loyal that they would rather endure stagnation than betray the bonds that hold their society together, even when those bonds weigh like chains upon their own progress. All they needed was someone at the top to guide them, and they would gladly see to it that their society thrives. I shall be that someone at the top.

***

I walked around town, having left the hall at the hill. If I was going to take initiative myself, I would have to come to a decision. Unlike those Highgoblins.

There are currently main three problems at play:

1. The people are in a state of panic; the unrest of the last months having boiled over in the wake of the dread lynx attack.

2. Chiefs Hardalgmar and Baldrenraz have left to exterminate dread lynxes, crumbling the command structure of the tribe.

3. Casbriga is plagued by hunger as it has become isolated from the rest of the tribe due to the dread lynxes.

All of these problems are caused or amplified by the dread lynxes, so what am I going to do? Do I defend the town in the hopes that Hardalgmar and Baldrenraz return victorious? Am I going after them and bring them back so that they can restore order? Or do I shoot my shot, and opt to destroy the dread lynx den?

The first option is the easiest; it’s the passive one. The second option could relieve the town for the time being until we gather up our strength again; the cautious choice. The last option was all or nothing; I would destroy the main problem plaguing the tribe, return a hero, and be unilaterally accepted as the new ruler.

Actually, I don’t really care about returning a hero or becoming a ruler in this moment. I just want to solve the problem and bring the people out of their misery. If I could become ruler of the tribe, I would love that, but that’s not important. I have to set my ambition aside, and make a rational choice.

…I need to get at the root of this conflict, and destroy the dread lynx den. The other options are just as risky. Who says those two chiefs could even return safely? Who says the town won’t fall into the same conflict if those two are brought back? No. If I want to help the people, I MUST destroy the lynxes and drive them off this land. At the end of the day: it’s the economy, stupid. Once people can have their bread and butter in safety, stability will return by itself. Wrecking the den is the only way to do so.

I visited all the barracks in the hopes of speaking to some captains and captain, but all I found were empty training grounds. I remember when I entered this town with Wergnar: most soldiers had gathered by the gates. They were confused and lacked a command structure, so they argued amongst each other and tried to keep watch for any potential attacks. I suppose that’s where all the military men had gathered.

I went home and switched out my hunting equipment, which I had been wearing for four days, and put on some clothing that my uncle had prepared for me and supplemented it with some of the clothing I had purchased myself beforehand. A loose hose from a tailor, a padded cotehardie adorned with Lugustian symbols from my uncle, and a shoulder-padded mantle from an expensive store, adorned with the seal of Ausmul. I took my falcata, and left.

Thus I went to the gates. Thankfully, the atmosphere here had mellowed out a bit. There were still soldiers arguing, but I also saw two neat rows forming outside of the gate. Each row was headed by one of the captains I defeated previously.

“Honorable captains!” I said as I sprinted up to them.

“Oh! Chief Albar, what fortune to have you here!” The spear-wielding captain spoke, and he gave a respectful nod. “Gazmul at you service.”

“Rekmun, sir,” the captain with the indifferent expression followed up his colleague’s introduction with his own, “At your service.”

“What is it you’re doing, captains?” I asked them.

“War, sir. We must all follow war chief Baldrenraz into battle,” Rekmun uttered unemotionally.

Gazmul sighed. “Not all of us. We need at least half to maintain the town’s garrison.”

“No. It’s our shared duty to follow the war chief,” his voice turned agitated.