Travellers in the Amian Frontier region, to the north and northwest of Cordor will notice that the large clans of goblins and kobolds, normally apart from each other in a sort of shaky 'peace' have begun engaging in open fighting. Raiding parties of goblins and kobolds are regularly seen "border crossing", killing and taking what they can, before fleeing back across to their own side of the frontier. The Central area of the Frontier seems to have become the biggest hotspot, with the Bramble Woods and the West half of the frontier belonging to the Goblins and the Eastern half full off Kobolds.

Adventurers notice both sides are as aggressive and territorial as ever, unfortunately, but when battle between the two sides starts, both goblin and kobold seem willing to ignore the ugly, stinky humans, so long as they don't get involved in the fight.

A few Cordorian farmers have taken it as a blessing saying that "Ever since the little rats started killing each other, they're hitting the farmlands a lot less." Caravanners between Cordor, and the more northern settlements of Kohlingwn and Bendir Dale have noted the same thing.

The Orcs near Bendir Dale have yet to show any signs of slowing their constant harassment, though, and Bendir Dale continues to be rigorous in its patrols of the area.

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Davion Telemos - Monk of the Four Winds
Korthan Isharnos - Dragon Shaman of Thunder Spirit Zamasham

Dill Buck-tooth has taken it in her mind to slay all kobolds that she comes across sparing any goblin that deidce to attack her as of the bloodlsut and glory stealing by use of the invisiblity spell to go to the next batle to wipe hte kobolds carrying on for a while, while she does so though she does it slowly as of her "new illness" she will try to find out why the fighting and if its more than just terrortorial war at the moment.
She Rallys the Buck-tooths to do the same

Ubee receives news of the increased violence and gleefully partakes in the slaughter of the kobolds. He spends more time in the kobold territory (or stolen goblin territory, in his mind) trying to kill off as many as he can.

::A trio of Hin were seen scouting the area just north of Cordor extensively::

Frequently an old goblin with an ornamental pipe in his mouth, who appears to wear more necklaces than clothing can be seen passing the bramble woods and the amia frontier. At his side a bulky intimidating looking oggrilon would from time to time bark orders to groups of goblins, who bear tribal marks of the Buck-Tooth-clan. The groups of goblins would rush into kobold territory with the obvious intention to kill as many kobolds as possible while the duo of the oggrillon and the old goblin shaman continues to another destination.

*Throughout the outskirts kobolds are dying by the troves. Most are not only simply dead....they seemed to have died in a multitude of ways:

Some look like dry twigs....as if their life force had been drained.

Many more however have been simply torn apart limb from limb.

An important clue to note is one dead flattened kobold. The top half of the kobold has been smashed thoroughly into the ground, and even the ground has an indent.

ANY ranger could see that the indent in question is a large footprint, a Frost Giants. The kobold was in fact....stepped on.

ANY paladin could feel the faint aura of undeath lurking near the footprint, though they may not know what creature it is.*

A letter is brought to Henry the Hermit. Probably, given in hands, though the person who wrote it might as well have spoken directly to Henry.

Basically, the letter or the conversation evolves around the conflict between kobolds and goblins and if Henry is in need of help. It is signed by 'Daniel' Daoskinaxarijikkym, of Lemur Monastery.

He informs that even though he has been busy crafting furniture to donate to the people of Uhm, that if Henry needs help he can look for Daniel, who will do his best to aid him.

//OOC note: I left open to your interpretation if Daos could have spoken directly with Henry or if he had to send a letter. If you wish, we can RP said meeting too.

Occasionally in this or that or the other place in the frontier large mixed parties of kobolds and goblins can be found dead, most of them missing their heads or cut in half, weapons and shields splintered in their hands. It seems something large and/or very angry doesn't much care for their fighting in this region.

Grok, instructed by Shaman Mallulu, departed towards the Frontier to find out who is the cause of the massacre of both, the goblins and the kobolds. He left with anger for the rain was so dense that day, that his beloved white-bear-fur-hemmed armor immediately soaked wet. He cursed the gods for the weather they brought but he continued to walk towards the eastern part of the Bramble Woods. After a day-lasting journey he reached his destination and immediately noticed groups of rotting bodies. A mixture of kobold and goblin meat made him confused. Hunger and anger fighting with each other within his small brain. He shuddered, shaking his everlasting lust for the lizard flesh and began to investigate the cause of this menace. "Da hedz musta' been chopped by sum sharpey blade", he thought to himself. "But how da blade could poundah da shields'n gobbo hedzchopparhs to dustey?", that question remained unexplained. The only thought that hit Grok's head was that the one who pounded the gobbos must wear a lot of tasty meat on his bones. That's when he thought about getting a bigger cauldron...

It was dark and raining out as the group of goblins encroached on the kobold position. Rain slid down their blades and arrows as they crept through the trees and leaves, silently, like predators. When they were less than ten feet away from the circle of kobolds, who were wary that they were being stalked, they broke the treeline with a furious wail, cutting down two kobolds completely before meeting resistance from the other three. The battle was furious, blades and daggers and arrows flying everywhere. Even some of the kobolds and goblins resorted to biting and scratching. When the battle was over, only one kobold survived to limp back to its lair.

What could have caused these vermin to start warring so openly with each other? Could it have something to do with what Godo had mentioned to the Church just a week or so previously? He could not know. With a small, inaudible sigh, the short shadow skirted back between the cleaves in the forest line, back towards the Skull Crags.

"Of no concern..." he whispered, not knowing what lies ahead.

//Really looking forward to this event fleshing itself out. :)

From time to time, groups of goblins and kobolds can be found dead with black arrows with raven feathers portruding from their backs and throats. Someone must have been picking them off while they fought eachother.

A certain kobold could be seen swaggering around the frontier, killing off any Goblin in sight. As soon as he came, as soon as he dissapears, his signature Kamas hanging dangerously from his claws. He wasen't about to let his kin die, that's for sure.

In the Bramble Woods, an odd scent could be smelled nearby the Broken-Tooth cave. A smell of cooked reptilion meat and a faint stench of some repulsing unknown vegetables. A keen ear could also hear the sound of boiling water and a warmth coming out from the entrance to the cave.
Inside the cave Grok sighed: "Those lizzies become thinnahr'n thinnahr. Almost no meat on deir bones lately...". A crunching sound echoed through the chamber. "Da bone alreadies?!...", he shouted surprised when his steel cleaver hit and shattered the poor kobold's leg bone to pieces. "Will hav'to get more o'dems lizzies.", he thought when he threw the chopped meat chunks into his rusted iron cauldron. He firmly stirred the stew, making some kobold heads appear on its surface. "So maney corpses'n yet so littlah' meat...", he shook his head.
It was dawning when Grok's stew was finally complete. With his rotten wooden spoon he poured some of it into his helmet and began to sip it with uttermost taste. From time to time he followed it up with a large bite of meat he managed to fish out from the cauldron.

A man clad in dark armor patrols the frontier, questioning travelers on the situation in the areas. He wears the symbol of Bane openly on the brooch of his cloak.

Killing any opposition from either side, for now. He mostly can be seen in the areas south of The Skull Crags, Lower Foothills.

Dill contiuing her Onslaught of the kobolds starts to question why they would attack such a powerful race as goblins?
Bringing it down to the hummies fault for attacking their cave to much, "kobolds be deserving it though but why be attack us's?.. oh yus they want be take over our less likely attack lands.., Stupid koboldss should be just holding up in cave with many many kobolds and stay there never be ibn my sight agains."

It was dawning when Grok entered Amia Forest. For the last three weeks he has been hunting white bears in the Skull Crag mountains for a decent new furry carpet. Unfortunately, it was just a waste of time. He couldn't track a single furball, for simply it appeared that they could only be found on the bloody northern Faerun pole.

He was walking a narrow path towards the Bramble Woods thinking about his next meal. It should be something special. So many days without a decent food. He recalled a recipe on human stew that one of the Buckies gave him some time ago.

The journey through the forest was very dull. Every tree he passed looked the same. If it wasn't the dirt path he was walking on, he would surely be lost in no time. Suddenly, he overheard some voices nearby. He stopped and slowly sneaked through the bushes to investigate. He saw a small glade on which two figures were talking with each other. The figures of human posture. "Grok, dis be thy luckey day." he thought and jumped out of his hiding. His large body immediately have drawn the two's attention.

"Sayeth, how mucha' ya weigh'! Now!" he shouted the question, remembering that the stew recipe was very strict on the meat weight. But the humans weren't the ones who were easily scared. He recognized one of them to be the female and the other, a male. "Perhaps they've come here to mate", he thought. The human male asked Grok why he would want to know their weight. That surprised Grok. How could they not know? Wasn't that obvious they were supposed to end in Grok's cauldron? It was no need to lie, they were done anyway. "Me needah' know whetha' yer weigh' wouldda be like da recipe sayeth" he replied with his weak common language while wiping a saliva dripping out of his maw. The woman said nothing. Instead, she turned red. The man has kept the cold blood and started to mumble something, but Grok did not listen anymore. With a corner of his eye, he spotted a kobold walking down the path Grok has just left. He recalled Shaman Mallulu's words to bring every important looking kobbo to the cave for questioning. And that kobold surely had to be important! What other kobbo would be so insolent to walk through the woods that were known to be crawling with pinkskins? He left the hummmies be and chased the poor scaler.

"Arhh!", he roared. "Buckies got ya!". The kobold took a step back, startled by the sudden appearance of a giant ogrilllion. "Thou be commin' wid me. Me takes thee to da Shaman" he said with obvious satisfaction. "What do you want?", hissed the kobold. "Whatchya mean, lizzie?" said Grok a little surprised. "Thou kobbo! N'kobbos be killin' gobbos! Thou also be luukin' shaman-like, so me taketh thee to da Mightey Shaman Mallulu. He shalt question thee, so we know everythingey'bout ya, lizzies." Grok thought about the gold Shaman would give him for capturing such an important figure. "I dunno what you mean!" said the kobold. "No? Da be a bluutshed b'tween da kobbos'n gobbos." Grok explained shortly. But the kobold didn't appear to know anything about the present situation: "I don't know what you are talking about! I'm in no war with anybody!". Grok was not surprised with that reply. Living with gobbos taught him that anyone would tell anything just to save his skin, so he just grabbed the kobold under his shoulder and departed towards the Broken-Tooth cave. He didn't even walked seven paces when the kobold started to mutter something under his nose. It wasn't long until he finished and some strange urge, to leave the kobold be, stroke Grok's brain. Fortunatelly, he managed to get a grip on himself. He took a small chunk of animal leather out of his belt bag and stuffed it into kobolds mouth. "Now thou wun't be ablah' to curse me'nymores.". He fixed the grip on the kobold and continued on his journey.

Time passed and the day neared to an end. Grok has almost reached the edge of the forest when he bumped on some hummies, one of them, accompanied by two meaty-looking wolves. Grok stopped. "Those wolfies... Me be knowin' deir ownahr! Thou!", he addressed the wolfmaster, "Me knowah' thee!". After a short pause the man replied: "And I know you too. You're the spawn of the necromancer.". Grok released the kobold on the ground when his memory flashed far to the past. He remembered Dill, Godo and a necromancer known as White Wraith questioning a kobold north of the port of Cordor. He also remembered a great battle that emerged right after some crazy hummie Triadic Knights arrived at the place. He remembered that that certain man was with them at that time. And that his wolves' teeth left a mark on Grok's right forearm. Grok shook the memories off his head.

"Me be servin' no necromancer, hummie. Me be servin' da Mightey Shaman!". The wolfmaster ignored his explanations and threatened Grok. "I will suck da marrow fro'thy bones, hummie!" Grok shouted angrily. The battle begun. And it was fierce. The wolves biting Grok everywhere, the hummies cutting his thick skin, the ogrillion cutting down wolfmaster's companions. Blood of many races soaked into the ground of Amia Forest that evening. In the fray, though wounded, Grok managed to strike down the wolves. A shame he couldn't pick them up with the intention of eating them later, for he felt their master's breath on his back. Grok realized that the odds are against him, and that it's the battle that cannot be won. He managed to suppress his bloodthirst and used an invisibility wand that Shaman Mallulu once gave him. Grok had begun his withdrawal. The wolfmaster changed himself into a large dragon. Grok knew that some of those lizzies can sense unseen things so he quickened his pace. He withdrawed towards the north, towards the hills... He saw the hummies chasing him breaking their pursuit in order to cut his escape route. He quickly turned back and headed west, towards the pigmy lands, thus leaving the pursuit far behind him.

But what about the kobold? That bloody lizard must have escaped. Grok decided not to tell Shaman anything about that whole incident.

Maggot has awoken from his long sleep and can now be seen in the bramble killing every living thing in sight

Again, more brawling outside of the usual has broken out in the savagely peaceful Bramble Wood. Small packs of Yellowtooth goblins lick their bruises and clutch their bellies as the brutal beatings occur randomly and without warning.

An Orc. A very pissed off full blooded orc and an entourage of Goblins and Half Orcs are sending the message around to the Yellowtooth tribe the only way the children of Gruumsh know how: in an "I'm bigger then you" fashion.

One of these very mauled Yellowtooth goblins one day walks into the Brokentooth caves, his eyes more white then even the most poisoned goblins overdosed on the berserker mushshroom brews. From the stink of the magic "bogglyboop" on him, its clear the little goblinoid is not acting under his free will. His last known action was leaving a mouldy, smelly Vellum Parchment with King Mallokop.


"Great Boss Mallokop,

The Yellowtooth tribe be a problem. The Ironhide and Shaman wish to speak about said problem. If we have Great Boss Mallokop's permission to talk about said problem with Great Boss Mallokop, order this Yellowtooth gobbo to walk back outside the cave. If not, enjoy extra meat in your stew."

The mark of the sender is a single goblin eye stapled into the mouldy vellum.

_________________
Plays:

"I'll think of something once Amia:EE drops."

The goblin dutifully walks back outside to Orog-Orc and Shaman.

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Davion Telemos - Monk of the Four Winds
Korthan Isharnos - Dragon Shaman of Thunder Spirit Zamasham

*Over the next few days a figure in shades of brown can be seen walking the bramble woods. His armor is covered in a studded leather surcoat, and he carries a tower sheild with a machete (scim). He seems at ease in this neck of the world, and when encountering orcs or goblins near the caves, generally leaves them with more then a few bruises and broken limbs. The figure is shorter then an orc, clearly some form of half-breed. He continues to stalk the Bramble Woods, before departing a while. Its not long however before he is back, beating the hells out of anyone whom gets in his way.*

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I keels u with my axe!

"Do ye know where the Holy-Flamin' Frost-brand Gronk-slayin' Vorpal Hammer o' woundin' an' returnin' an' Shootin'-Lightnin'-out-yer-bum is?"