'Ever since I was born, I knew I was different. I could outsmart and outwit anyone around me. My father and mother were no exception. They were just as stupid as the rest of them. The only inconvenience this posed was that I was forced to teach myself how to read and write, for all my peers, and even the elders, were illiterate. My peers segregated me, outcasted me. I took no notice of this, and quietly continued my preparation. Preparation for what? You may ask. Preparation for take over. My races ancestral home had been the caves, you see. You will not find that in the history books. But my kind are meant for the dark places. This is even told in my tribe's stories, stories of the gods. But in ages past, when the dwarves were created out of the stones by their gods, we had all ready taken the caves. The dwarves envied us, and made war with us. We, a weak race, were easily driven out, forced into squalor. The elves had all ready taken the forests. The humans had the plains. The caves and mountains had been taken for us. And so the forgotten places we were forced to call home. The swamps. The hills. The desert. But I, and I alone, know of this. The dwarves made no written records of their conquest of us, nor oral records, as inefficient as they are, so all the so-called 'high races' have forgotten about our home, our place in the world. But I will remind them. I will take back our home. I will lead my people, my race, the goblins, back to our ancestral home, the caves.'

Groggar was born in 876 PT, to a goblin tribe living in the hills. These hills lay in the shadow of the mountains were the dwarves had built their underground cities, and so, in a figurative way, had grown up in the shadow of the dwarves. Hate for them has always boiled in his veins. Groggar is also a genius, as smart as human or elven geniuses. He knows it. After all, he has read books on the subject. Three years after his birth, in 879 PT, Groggar challenged his tribe's chief for a duel to the death for the right to lead the tribe. Groggar used his considerable intellect to overcome the chief, that and the months he spent improving at fighting.

'Once I was chief, I turned my eyes to the next portion of my plan. I must unite the scattered goblin tribes. My tribe alone could not hope to vanquish the cursed dwarves, and the driving out of the dwarves is for the benefit of my entire race. My first move must therefore be to gather up the various tribes and unite them under my banner, whether through war or diplomacy. I ordered my people to break camp. We were to head for the nearest tribe. We soon reached them, and I managed to convince their chief to follow me. He would be the chief of his tribe, and report to me. The next tribe joined us, too, without violence. I gave command of my tribe to this second chief, and took command of the two. My people called me Big Boss. The third tribe, though, refused to join us, and so, with regret, we slaughtered them. The people that were left were placed under the second cheif's command. As rumors about my purpose spread among the goblin tribes, some traveled to join my command. Some banded together to defeat me, but I always outsmarted them, with minimal losses to my own command. Soon, all the tribes were under my command.'

Groggar was a skilled negotiator, especially among his own, stupider race, and could easily convince those chiefs who were at least partially receptive to his ideas to join him. But some stubborn few refused to join him, either because they didn't want to become a subordinate, or because they felt the dwarf's defenses were impregnable. But no tribe ever considered joining with others to defeat him, and thus they were defeated.

'As soon as I had all the tribes together, I launched my attack swiftly. If I lingered, I knew, some of my troops would die of starvation, for there was simply not enough food to support such as large host. And so I swiftly brought them to the Dwarves' walls. The entrance to their caves was blocked my a massive wall. I knew this would be their only real defense. Once my goblins were in, we would win. It was as simple as that. But, I knew, the more troops I lost in this battle, the harder it would be to finish off the dwarves. And so I ordered the construction of a new weapon, the likes of which had never before been seen on the battlefield. Near my tribe's home is a swamp, where giant frogs live. These frogs are immensely strong, but can be tamed easily if a certain compund is inserted into their nostrils. We sent a wave of these frogs against the walls. Each frog could destroy little, but they would weaken their defenses. While the defenders hurled their javelins at the frogs, I brought up my rams to the gates, with other groups with rams at the places the frog's attacked. As we did, we hurled Snarglapuff goo at them- goo which comes from the Snarlapuff pod, and is immensly sticky. They could not pour burning oil on us while the goo covered them, and my ramming groups knocked down the gate. I immeadiatly called a retreat. With so many dwarves that were on the wall decided to fall back to the tunnels, we were helpless. I needed them outside their walls, to meet my secondary attack force. As we retreated, a section of wall fell to a ram, and that ramming group dropped the ram and ran. Our force made it down the hills with the dwarves at our rear, howling their vengeance and war cries, thinking they had won. But then we ambushed them. A third of my attack force, half of the third on either side of the road, had hidden themselves. With the foolish dwarves on our heels, my ambushing goblins attacked. My retreating force likewise turned and fought. The dwarves were masterfully defeated. I ordered my men to take down the wall. They did so with gusto.

At the Battle of the Wall, as the battle would be called, the dwarves got their first taste of Groggar's genius. But ancestral stereotypes died hard, especially in the stubborn dwarves. Used to thinking of goblins as weak and stupid, the dwarves viewed the Battle of the Wall as lucky on the goblin's part, embarrassing on their, and ignored the facts in front of them. They failed to question on how such a large army of goblins had been raised, something that would take a genius. They failed to question how such a large army had the brains to launch an ambush called 'the Fanged Retreat,' something an illiterate goblin could never have heard about. They failed to accept the fact that the goblin's had, at last produced a genius, who was intent on killing them.

'I predicted the the dwarves would counter attack. They knew these caves better than us, and I couldn't hope to fight them off in there. And so I placed traps, such as Snarglapuff pods, on the tunnel into the tunnels from the wall. And I put a more important trap of them all in there. The dwarves came as predicted, axes at the ready. They came expecting an easy fight. As such, they failed to check for traps. Some of their number died from them. And then they got out, they found an empty field. Empty, except for the bodies of the dwarven fallen. Arranged in a crude, but effective, symbol. I believe the raised middle finger is effective in any race. As such, the dwarves grew enraged, and cast their eyes around for goblin foes. They saw none. They explored further away from the battlefield, further down hill. Word of the ambush I had launch had spread, and the dwarves were prepared for that. And so I launched a different plan. While they had examined the symbol I had left them, my chiefs put there men in position. One row positioned halfway up the hill, another above that, another above that, the top two hidden. Each goblin armed with a javelin from a raided dwarven store. And my first row cast the javelins downhill, an arc of death, a shadow of defeat, and pierced the dwarves back, the unprotected side. My goblins yelled insults, like I had told them to, and the dwarves rushed up the hill to confront us. But their short legs cannot go very fast, espieccially uphill. My front row got two more throws on them before retreating past the third row. Now my second row rose up, threw three times again, and retreated. And finally my third row cast thrice. The dwarven counterattack had lost roughly half its men. the rest of my army launched another ambush. They were easily routed.

Displaying his genius once again in the Battle of the Javelin, Groggar moved his men into the caves. The dwarves had probably sent half their men, maybe less if they weren't as slow and cautious as Groggar had expected them to be. And so Groggar began a guerrila war with the rest of the dwarves. He would launch an attack on the dwarves mines. The dwarves would send a force into the area, which was whittled down at range till the goblins could win at close quarters combat. The game of cat and mouse continued, with the mouse having somehow gained a couple of large claws, brains, and vicious teeth. The dwarves continued to lose ground, sometimes losing a city here, an army there. More and more of the caves fell under Groggar's control. Finally, three years into the combat, the dwarvish leader met with Groggar under the white flag of truce. They negotiated, and the dwarves surrendered. The goblins has won. Groggar taught the goblins how to farm mushrooms, and how to mine gold, which was traded for necessities that Groggar could no produce himself. He also taught his people how to read and write, and is starting to bring his people out of the slums of stupidity that they had fallen into before.

At last, after three years of fighting, my goal was complete. The dwarves were vanquished, subjugated, banished. My people are no longer mocked, and the goblin race can at last be proud of themselves. I feel honored, to have been handed the ability to give them that by the gods. Everywhere I go, my people are happy. I have led them out of the forgotten places, and into the places where they belong. I know the dwarves will probably counterattack, but they are too weak to do so at this time. However, I have ordered the construction of defenses. My people are happy, the humans and elves have begun to accept us as sentient people, and not simply a nuisance, or a monster for low-level adventurers. With barely a pause between the new export of gold (for a lower cost than the dwarves had sold it) after the war was finished, we are an accepted race now, and I think that the dwarves cannot depend on help from the humans or the elves to take back the caves they thought as theirs. The goblin race is no longer looked at as despicable, and I am happy at last.'

Plot Hooks:

Where to now? With their old home taken, and no hope of returning to it now, a small band of dwarves has decided to move to the northern mountains, previously uninhabited. But the dwarves need someone to help protect them, because they are all civilians, and never trained to be warriors. And so they hire the PCs to guard them on their journey north.

Operation: Assassin: The dwarves have finally figured out that Groggar is a genius. They believe that they can retake the caves if Groggar is killed. But they cannot do it themselves. No dwarf is allowed inside the caves as part of the treaty they signed. And so the PCs must do it. The dwarven king is willing to put a lot of gold into PC pocket, more if Groggar's death is humorous.

Groggar's Ambition: A few years have gone by, and Groggar thinks its about time some humans died. The goblins are rising out of the caves, armed to the teeth, and it seems no one can stop them, especially with a genius as their leader. Can the PCs help defend humanity against the goblins?

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