Behind this force marched another army of seven thousand Trast soldiers, Militia and conscripts. He looked over at the Muskallans who were starting to divide the camps. The Goblin watched more than seven thousand Muskallans split their army into three forces. Two forces wen sound and west while the third force started marching for the Tamoth and Trast armies. Each one had different banners representing another clan that forged this horde.
As the Goblin watched he heard hoofbeats riding up to him. He turned around, curious to see who it was. It was the trio of unaffiliated figures he spotted earlier. They raced over to him and threw a bag over him. He felt powerless as the bag was thrown on him. Whoever this trio of bounty hunters were they scooped up the bag with him inside it. All he saw was the inside of the dark bag. Being inside the bag was uncomfortable and the ride was rocky. He bounced around and hit the side of the mount. For some time, they rode before stopping again. He was left on the mount as the trio dismounted to make camp again. While in the bag he heard their voices speak in angry feminine tones. His captors were all female. Not even one of them sounded happy about their own boss. Each one said a negative word or phrase. It was apparent that this trio of figures were hired bounty hunters. They had been hired to act as retrievers.
None of them spoke very pleasantly about their boss. He tried to speak to them, but was cut off by the trio of women. Moments later the trio of women came down on him with slaps, punches, and kicks. When they were done one of them left food at his feet as they made camp to rest. The Goblin was then tied up with the bag up to his neck. A piece of food was shoved into his mouth. He was left like this for the next four days after being picked up and dropped for camp. He did not get a good look at his captors. While in the bag he only heard their conversations. However he paid little attention to their words on the subject. All he cared about was surviving his captivity. Eventually he would seek a away out of this.
For several days he plotted to escape. There was hardly anything he could find to use as his hands were tied up and the captors kept sharp objects away from his reach. For an hour and a half this Goblin searched for a way out of this. His plans did not coincide with trio of female bounty hunters. Before he could hatch a good plan the Goblin was picked up again. In the bag the Goblin had to ride on the side of the mount. His hopes of getting out this one was killed. The trio had stopped and took him off the mount he was on. He felt the bag be carried to a building and the door swing open. His captors exchanged words with whoever was at the front door with angry voices. After words were exchanged he could hear them go up some steps. In moments the trio of bounty hunters must have reached their destination and tossed the Goblin out of the bag. He lay on the floor before the very architect behind the horde.
Seated in an armchair was an irritated man in his fifties. His clothing said he was about to go to sleep until he was rudely stirred out of bed. This irritated man was no doubt the main architect behind this entire horde. For several minutes he sat in his arm chair within his own quarters. A well-dressed woman stood at the side of the chair. A lamp was turned on to shed some light in the room.
The Goblin sat up on the floor and begged for a second chance. He explained how the Gontrellans pissed everyone off at the siege. In his own words he explained how things escalated into chaos. Everything that happened spilled out. The architect of this horde just rolled his eyes. He ordered for a cigar to be prepared and lit. Whoever the woman was did as he asked her as if a wife does for a husband. Holding the cigar in hand the architect stood up and approached the now scared Goblin. He puffed a few times before blowing a ring into the Goblin’s face. Without hesitation he grabbed the Goblin by the throat and squeezes to force his mouth open. He shoved the cigar into the Goblin’s left eye then his tongue. The Goblin was forced to eat the cigar whole and swallow it. His good eye ogled the woman who stood next to the armchair. She did not even look him the eye as she was disgusted by something. His tongue was burned, and he could speak or see out of one eye. The architect picked him up by the throat and dragged over to the stairs where he was thrown over the railing.
As the Goblin watched he heard hoofbeats riding up to him. He turned around, curious to see who it was. It was the trio of unaffiliated figures he spotted earlier. They raced over to him and threw a bag over him. He felt powerless as the bag was thrown on him. Whoever this trio of bounty hunters were they scooped up the bag with him inside it. All he saw was the inside of the dark bag. Being inside the bag was uncomfortable and the ride was rocky. He bounced around and hit the side of the mount. For some time, they rode before stopping again. He was left on the mount as the trio dismounted to make camp again. While in the bag he heard their voices speak in angry feminine tones. His captors were all female. Not even one of them sounded happy about their own boss. Each one said a negative word or phrase. It was apparent that this trio of figures were hired bounty hunters. They had been hired to act as retrievers.
None of them spoke very pleasantly about their boss. He tried to speak to them, but was cut off by the trio of women. Moments later the trio of women came down on him with slaps, punches, and kicks. When they were done one of them left food at his feet as they made camp to rest. The Goblin was then tied up with the bag up to his neck. A piece of food was shoved into his mouth. He was left like this for the next four days after being picked up and dropped for camp. He did not get a good look at his captors. While in the bag he only heard their conversations. However he paid little attention to their words on the subject. All he cared about was surviving his captivity. Eventually he would seek a away out of this.
For several days he plotted to escape. There was hardly anything he could find to use as his hands were tied up and the captors kept sharp objects away from his reach. For an hour and a half this Goblin searched for a way out of this. His plans did not coincide with trio of female bounty hunters. Before he could hatch a good plan the Goblin was picked up again. In the bag the Goblin had to ride on the side of the mount. His hopes of getting out this one was killed. The trio had stopped and took him off the mount he was on. He felt the bag be carried to a building and the door swing open. His captors exchanged words with whoever was at the front door with angry voices. After words were exchanged he could hear them go up some steps. In moments the trio of bounty hunters must have reached their destination and tossed the Goblin out of the bag. He lay on the floor before the very architect behind the horde.
Seated in an armchair was an irritated man in his fifties. His clothing said he was about to go to sleep until he was rudely stirred out of bed. This irritated man was no doubt the main architect behind this entire horde. For several minutes he sat in his arm chair within his own quarters. A well-dressed woman stood at the side of the chair. A lamp was turned on to shed some light in the room.
The Goblin sat up on the floor and begged for a second chance. He explained how the Gontrellans pissed everyone off at the siege. In his own words he explained how things escalated into chaos. Everything that happened spilled out. The architect of this horde just rolled his eyes. He ordered for a cigar to be prepared and lit. Whoever the woman was did as he asked her as if a wife does for a husband. Holding the cigar in hand the architect stood up and approached the now scared Goblin. He puffed a few times before blowing a ring into the Goblin’s face. Without hesitation he grabbed the Goblin by the throat and squeezes to force his mouth open. He shoved the cigar into the Goblin’s left eye then his tongue. The Goblin was forced to eat the cigar whole and swallow it. His good eye ogled the woman who stood next to the armchair. She did not even look him the eye as she was disgusted by something. His tongue was burned, and he could speak or see out of one eye. The architect picked him up by the throat and dragged over to the stairs where he was thrown over the railing.
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