32 years ago, a red-skinned goblin was born in an encampment located East in the Horde-controlled lands. The child, aptly named "Gobb", was the youngest son and latest in a line of heirs to the region's Lord. This meant he was destined to inherit a sizable fortune amassed via the pillaging, taxation, and assimilation of towns near the area's borders, a fact which filled the young upstart with immeasurable pride, even if he wasn't exactly the first in line. Dozens upon Dozens of brothers and sisters stood before him, which filled him with an incessant need to vy for the attention of his often absentminded father. His siblings all had a certain specialty; Alchemy, Engineering, the more creative aspects that came with a goblin's heightened intelligence were things that did not come easily to Gobb. He attempted to use his siblings as reference, crudely imitating their creations and trying to portray himself as some kind of "hidden genius" to his father, however his attempts often ended in disaster. Any weapon he attempted to smith emerged a crude imitation of the mold; Any potion he tried to brew exploded in his face. One time, while attempting to display his "unbeatable combat prowess," he nearly gouged his own eye out due to poor handling of a double-sided axe. This was to say, Gobb was a complete and utter laughingstock.
Over the years, Gobb fostered a bitter resentment for both his father and siblings. But before he could act on his building hatred, his father was deposed in a rebellion led by local forces, with him and his remaining siblings summarily imprisoned or executed. Gobb fled in the ensuing chaos, forced to control his impulses as he was denied revenge before he thought to seek it. His anger never left, though. Instead it festered as he traveled between lands, forced into a life of squalor. Though he hated his family for denying him his birthright, he hated the disgusting lows he stooped to in order to survive even more. Part of him missed the company, even if it wasn't the good kind. It was in his desperate ventures where he encountered... another.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
Gobb's eyes hastily trace along the room's interior, dimly lit from the light of the candles, the smell of burning wax filling the goblin's hooked nostrils. The pitter-patter of bare feet against cold stone comes to a stop as he is beckoned by the Hag's show of hospitality. Gnarled, uncut fingernails scrape against the wood of the table as he thought over the question. He looks over his shoulder, expecting his "brother", Linn, to follow suit.
...but nobody came.
Seems he'll have to go at this one alone.
"G-Geheheh... well I'z uhh..." He flinches as the floor creaks beneath him. "Me anz my brother was uhh, ztopping buy to er- enrich owerselves, yeaz! Moniez. Lotz of Moniez, we'z needz. Where we'z iz born, not importz."
He rubs his palms as he speaks, sweating as he looks back, awaiting the Hag's answer.
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