Thragg beheld lake Aska with a faint smile upon his face. The lake was a thing of beaty, and Thragg, when he was unevolved, had not been able to behold it and appreciate it to its truest extent. The lake stretched into the far distance of his vision, a jewel of clear waters that swayed with the direction of the strong winds of this land.

Sunlight shone through the clouds overhead, the rays reflecting in glimmering, jewel-like luster atop the surface of the water. Snowfall gently drifted down, melting as it kissed the lake and became part of it.

Hills surrounded lake Aska, and beyond them, larger formations that could be considered small mountains. Unlike in other areas of Fjall, the hills here were topped with trees and actual green, for they were sustained by water vapor that rose from the lake in regular intervals, for the earth underneath the lake rumbled every so often, loosing great heat.

This made lake Aska and her surroundings lands rich with life and far enough away from Common beings that it was a safe haven for various non-common creatures that ranged from monsters and beasts to tribal creatures such as goblins and lizans.

The goblins occupied the southern end of the lake, and the lizans, a tribe of bipedal reptilians, occupied the northern edge, and they rarely interacted with each other so as to prevent conflict because of how evenly matched the two tribes were.

“Lead me to your champions,” said Thragg, and the recently subjugated Frostfish tribe goblins ahead of him grunted in affirmation..

The goblins led Thragg first to the southern bank of the lake where, out in the open, a sizable number of Frostfish goblins were practicing swimming and fishing. Already several piles of large fish were stacked up high on the bank, holes punched into their heads to stop them from flopping around.

As the goblins on the bank saw their own kind approaching, they perked up first in familiarity, but when they saw Thragg’s unfamiliar face and the champions behind him, they raised an immediate alarm. One of Frostfish goblins raised a shell to his lips and blew into it, letting out a trilling rumble that immediately alerted all of the goblins.

The Frostfish goblins gathered together in a haste while sending off their women and children for the hills where their burrows were. The men on the bank, numbering a solid fifty in number, tensed up as they saw Thragg’s conquering force approaching.

A champion among them, noticeable from his large tusks and bigger frame, barked orders to them, and several of the hobgoblins there took out slingshots with pellets of ice in them, drew back the slings, and fired.

“Move aside,” said Thragg to the Frostfish goblins in front of him. They were in the line of fire, for it seemed that their brethren on the bank believed them to be turncoats whose lives were not worth saving.

Not entirely inaccurate, but these foolish goblins simply did not know of the glorious purpose that Thragg would bring upon them.

The Frostfish goblins in front of Thragg immediately scrambled to the sides for their lives, for a well sharpened ice shard shot by a competent sling was deadly enough to easily lodge into a brain or painfully into the flesh.

This, Thragg knew very well. He had suffered the same pain once, when the Frostskull tribe, back when tribes meant anything, had tried to take over lake Aska and were met with cowardly attacks from afar, whittling down their numbers.

The rain of ice pellets flew in neat arcs, landing like a volley of arrows against Thragg and his champions. The pellets thudded against Thragg’s skin and bounced off uselessly. Some shattered against his hard skin entirely.

The champions behind him, too, were utterly unfazed.

Mere little slingshots would not do anything to Thragg anymore. There was only purpose to bring forth to these misguided goblins.

When the Frostfish hobgoblins saw that their slings were not doing anything, they cast them aside and drew out weapons. Weapons stolen from the occasional raid to a human village, some of the strong ones possessing clubs or blades crafted from Everfrost, some having sharpened tusks from Frostboars, and the like.

“Champions. Arm yourselves,” said Thragg.

Thragg and the champions in unison withdrew their purifying lightblades from belts or string tying the weapons to their backs. The blades all gleamed with a golden shine that far, far outmatched anything the hobgoblins wielded.

As Thragg and his champions drew closer, the Frostfish goblins became ever more fearful, taking steps back as they noticed they were outmatched in weaponry and size. Only the champion of the group remained standing forwards, his hands clasped around a greatsword pillaged from some adventuring corpse, most likely.

“Who you?” said the champion.

“I am Thragg, once of the Frostskull tribe, not part of a much greater force. I am here to take you into our new tribe, the tribe to unite all,” said Thragg as he stopped when he was a few meters away from the champion.

Face to face like this, it was even more evident how outmatched the champion was. Thragg was a head taller, exuding a magical energy pressure that greatly eclipsed the champion’s by several magnitudes. In fact, the average champion behind Thragg was already several time stronger than this champion, let alone Thragg himself.

“You look strange,” said the champion as he eyed Thragg’s new form and then glanced at the dark blue eyed champions behind him. “All of you look different. Much, much stronger. How is this?”

“We have found a Sovnar,” said Thragg. “A Sovnar to grant us new forms, new power, and new purpose.”

“Sovnar?” The champion tilted his head in slight confusion.

The Elder stepped forwards. “You remember the call of the Lord, do you not?”

“Yes,” said the champion. “We ignored it. Dumb to follow. Would have us all die.”

“The Sovnar is far beyond the lord. He is the ruler of the Old Age meant to unite all goblins under one,” said the Elder. “You are part of this purpose. The Sovnar extends his unity to you to join us.”

“Or else?” said the champion.

“Or else I fight you for the right to claim your people, as is tradition,” said Thragg. “But you can stand down, join our ranks, submit, and live and become greater as we have.”

“Okay,” said the champion without too much hesitation. He put his greatsword down on the snow as a sign of surrender. “I am no match for you. I will serve.”

“Good. You are reasonable among your kind,” said Thragg. “What is your name, champion?”

“Ban,” said the champion.

“You will not regret this choice, Ban,” said Thragg.

Thragg then spoke to the rest of the hobgoblins behind Ban. “All of you! Submit your wills as your champion has. Or face death!”

Without much hesitation, the hobgoblins all dropped their weapons and fell on the ground in non-threatening display, for they knew that to ever challenge Thragg or any one of the champions was to immediately court death.

“Then you are all now bound to the service of the Sovnar. Open your hearts, and let my words take root,” said Thragg, his voice projecting outwards as he used what fraction of the Sovnar’s authority he could.

As his voice radiated outwards, washing over the Frostfish goblins, they fell under Higher Calling for they had willingly accepted it. 

“Now, one more champion left, is there not?” said Thragg. “And the rest of your people. Come, let us unite the Frostskull and Frostfish tribes properly.”

==

Thragg stood at the peak of one of the larger hills bordering lake Aska. He stood in the midst of a shallow pond that lay at the center of a grove of trees that formed a natural circular perimeter thirty meters in diameter. The water of the pond rose up to his shins, and though his body was far resistant to cold, he knew that the water here was colder than usual.

This area was magically charged, and this point likely crystallized environmental mana and cold into Everfrost.

This was a sacred dueling spot where a chieftain, the strongest of champions among the Frostfish tribe, was elected in trial by combat, as was the usual way of rule among goblins.

Here, Thragg stood against the chieftain, a champion known as Drogan. An older champion, his beard white. He was dressed in a complete set of Fjallan armor fashioned from Coldsteel, lined underneath by Frostboar and Snowdeer hides while a cloak from a slain Frostbear flowed from his back.

  A proper armor set was incredibly rarity among goblins, and this, Drogan had acquired by actually paying a human blacksmith in a village, for outer villages among the humans often did interact with non-common tribes, trading and exchanging services to survive.

Drogan wielded shield and a large blade, and his physique was excellent despite his more advanced years, allowing him to stand just as tall as Thragg despite Thragg being an elite that naturally was larger and stronger than a champion.

Drogan knelt by the edge of the pond, his helmet on the grassy ground where snow white lilies sprouted, ready to be painted red in blood. He faced away from Thragg and drew tribal markings on his face with dried black dye.

All symbolic gestures to show that the chieftain was now ready to face a battle for his title.