Legends of Belariath

Goblins History

Goblins are a relatively new race to the land of Belariath, and their creation is a subject veiled in mystery and misinformation. The common belief, put forward and adamantly encouraged by high elven kind, is that Goblins were created by a Moriel Necromancer by the name of Kklasmodious Sindraes as an act of spite against the high elves in the time of open war between their two races. It is said that he captured high elves and used his dark magic’s to twist and pervert them into his servants and soldiers, only to find them too unruly to control, and to eventually be overwhelmed and destroyed by them. This is what is believed about the creation of Goblins. This is what is written in every historical account on the subject. This is the deception.

The truth of the matter, the great embarrassment to high elf kind, was that the Moriel had nothing to do with the creation of Goblins.

Klarissa Sindrael was the daughter of a prominent member of the ruling council of what was then the Elven nation, before the rise of the first Human Empire. A brilliant young girl, she at a very early age took a keen interest in spiritual magic’s, and the nature of deities and the afterlife. At this time in history, High Elves were vaguely aware of shamanistic crafts, but regarded them as ‘dirty magic’, a thing for the lower races to muddle about in while they focused on the purer forms. Though Klarissa’s father was disappointed his daughter had chosen to apply her incredible talents to such a dead-end field, he was an indulgent man, and agreed to fund and support her research. In less than twenty years Klarissa was the leading authority on the spiritual sphere, and was swiftly developing the till that moment unnamed craft of Necromancy. For many years she was the talk of the town, each paper she published and study she put forth of shocking interest. Then, for a long time, there was silence. All ties with her father, with her sisters, with her family were severed, as the girl seemed to fall into seclusion.

Eighteen years passed this way, until a series of invitations were sent- first to Klarissa’s sisters, then to all of her female friends, each humbly requesting an audience, with the promise that she had something truly unique to share with them. None of the women ever returned. War was raging between the High elves and the Moriel at this point, and Klarrissa’s father began to fear his daughter had been a victim of the under-elves, and that the signed letters she had sent were forgeries. Strange news began coming in from the fringe villages then. Raids were reported but not Moriel in kind, word of walking corpses shambling through panicked streets, throttling men and dragging off women alive. It was then, already far too late, he began to suspect.

Two decades later they came. Fighting side by side with the lifeless corpses, came a horde of fierce mortal warriors... a living race the world had never known, bred for war and highly trained, sacking town after elven town. Always the story was the same... the men slaughtered, the women taken, taken by those creatures who so resembled themselves, only with skin of a dark obsidian or a sickly green.

Just as hope had begun to take hold that the war with the Moriel could be won, a new enemy of the surface threatened to undo them. Klarissa’s father knew who must be responsible, and with a heavy heart ordered a force of their best fighters to go to his daughter’s citadel and put a stop to the madness. When they arrived, they found an army waiting for them, an army that could overwhelm not only them, but could threaten the very nation they defended.

To their great confusion, the army would disperse upon seeing them... units roaming off in formation in all directions but the one that would lead to confrontation. The corpses who augmented the force of Goblins would lie down in their graves, and the citadel was left open.

The sight within the citadel was horrendous. Women, young elven women, were being kept like animals, chained and confined in great, reeking breeding chambers. When they found Klarissa, she was sitting at table, calmly enjoying a fine supper and a glass of wine.

The elf who slew her described the scene as the most disturbing that dark citadel had to offer, namely for the girls reaction. He described her as having looked up at him, power radiating from her like heat from the sun, with a wide, loving smile on her face, ‘beautiful as anything’, and invited him to dine with her. When he buried his sword in her in answer, the girl actually laughed, and wished him well as she died. "They told me later I’d won a great victory..." he was later heard to say. "...I don’t think I won anything. I get the feeling nobody won but her."

Many of the freed women had gone quite mad, but those who could still speak coherently seemed to imply that Klarissa had born a Son, and that Son had been the tireless stud of the women’s sick farm... a Son whom the virgin, through mastery of her dark craft alone, had immaculately conceived.