And in those days, the stain of blood covered the land. The stench of Gru’Shka’s hoard stretched from the wailing mountains to the farthest reaches of the Writhewoods. For those who lived there, it was a dark and horrible point in history; for the invading goblins on the other hand…

Life was wonderful for Snib Beetlebones. As a professional scavenger and trader of odd goods, he could not have asked for a better season. Every pillaged village was stocked with all sorts of toys and treats to soothe the unholy twisted thing that is a goblin’s soul. And every battlefield was a cornucopia of shiny metals and meat.

Among goblins, there are not many rules. Generally, the biggest and loudest is the leader, which make political squabbles short. Otherwise, the main rule of thumb is that there is never a problem that cannot be fixed by throwing more goblins at it.

Among the scavenger groups however, there were two laws that guided their conduct.

1. If it is food, eat it.
2. If it is not broken, break it.

The reason for the first law is quite simple. If you have extra food, you might find somebody who wants it. If that person is hungry enough, they may try to kill you to take your food, which, in turn, means that you do not get to eat that food. Therefore, for personal security and satisfaction, it is of paramount importance to eat any and all food that comes your way.

The second law is also a matter of security, but of marketing too. For example, say you have just claimed an excellent haul of gear, and stumble across another group of scavengers. Their first instinct will be to claim the most superior merchandise and if they happen to be larger than you, it may become difficult and unhealthy to try to stop them. If you followed the rules, then the other group would see that your goods were no better than theirs and would only weigh them down. A civil conversation could occur, and you could both be on your respective ways. Additionally, there is little that can be said about an unbroken, scavenged item. A slightly charred or bent item must clearly have a tale to go with it. Suddenly, what was once a perfectly fine pitchfork becomes the bent and battled-tested weapon of a dragon slayer, which you daringly stole from his personal chambers. With the few minutes you spent hitting that tool against a rock before tossing it into your campfire, you have quadrupled the value of the item.

On this particular day, in the aftermath of an especially horrific fight, two groups descended upon the bodies strewn about like so much chaff. The first group was a flock of vultures. Ragged, mangy birds with beady soulless eyes, and an insatiable hunger for the flesh of the dying. This specific breed was known to carry off the remains of the fallen, rather than stay and feast.

The second group to arrive of course, were the scavengers. They took it upon themselves to claim whatever was left from the battle. As a result, there were often squabbles between them and the vultures.

Snib, armed with a fearsome iron spork (acquired in the previous village) and a conveniently throwable rock, surveyed the scene like a cat looks at a crippled, wealthy mouse. Clambering down into the valley, Snib saw something move.

Crushed beneath the body of what had been a fine horse, was a man in blood soaked armor. He flailed his free arm pitifully, trying to frighten off the massive bird perched above him. Snib did not attempt to hide his approach.

Hearing movement, the man cried out. “Someone help me!”

Snib paused at this. “What will you give me if I do?” Snib rasped.

The man, twisted his neck to view his would-be savior. Seeing that it was a goblin, he despaired.

The vulture spoke. “Leave this one alone little one. There is plenty of food for everyone.”

Snib’s floppy ears perked up. This was a direct reference to one of the laws!

“Human, I must inform you that you are food, and by the laws of my people, I should eat you.” Snib said this with head bowed, and hand held over where he thought his heart was.

“What!” Cried the man. “I am not for eating. I am a knight!”

“The vulture said you were food; and the laws require that I eat you.”

The vulture cawed in protest. “This is my food! I told you that you could go anywhere else to get some. Why must you try to eat this one now?”

Snib replied. “Feathered one, I came here this day with the intention of finding something shiny. However, you have informed me that humans are in fact made of food. This introduces a completely new dimension to my day.”

“Don’t talk to the vulture!” the knight shouted. “Whatever you want, take. But help me, please!”

Snib considered this. The man’s armor was shiny, plus it was also somewhat broken and stained. If he was willing to part with it, this could be a profitable day.

The vulture interrupted his musings loudly. “Food shouldn’t be spoken to, leave and let me eat!”

“Vulture,” Asked Snib. “What would you do if I were to chase you away from this man?”

The bird eyed the helpless man for a moment, then eyed Snib. “You might weigh less than him. I suppose I could pick you up and drop you.”

Snib, clever goblin that he was, decided to begin negotiations. “Sir, I will help you in exchange for that shirt of mail you wear.”

The man paused. “Goblin, I am grateful for this. I shall give you whatever gold I have with me as well.”

Snib shook his lumpy head, “You will need that to pay Shlogg.”

Both the man and the bird had a look of confusion before a hefty rock struck the bird’s head from behind. The angry creature squawked and flapped angrily, turning, only to be struck in the wing by Snib’s rock.

Together Snib and the other scavenger wrestled the bird to the ground and killed it. Moving on, they lifted the horse enough for the knight to squirm free. Rising, he paid them both. Snib, the armor, and Shlogg a few gold pieces.

The goblins watched the man stagger onward for a few minutes before growing bored. The bird’s flesh was unsuitable for eating, even by goblin standards. Its feathers however, would fetch a fair price back in the caves where they might be sold as the remains of a phoenix.

“C’mon Snib, there are more shiny things to take, maybe some food too!”

Snib lingered as Shlogg wandered off. For the poor scavenger knew something that no other goblin had realized. Humans could be food.