Personally, I believed the whole discovery was far less significant than Ar-basinno wanted to make out. Back in our tent, he kept babbling on about the "most significant archaeological find of the century" and the "physical foundation of the science of goblinology" until I had to hit him over the head with a flagon of wine to shut him up. The next morning when he came to, the idea of a religious cult was firmly ensconced in his mind, and nothing I said could dislodge it.
We argued about it almost the entire way back to Argivia, and shortly after, as many of you are aware, I departed from the university rather than suffer through further association with him.
I strongly urge you to ignore this whole affair and offer Ar-basinno the prospect of a quiet retirement to some obscure location within the university. Whatever went on at The Flarg on that field, I doubt it had any lasting significance for goblin culture. At best it was some sort of ritual-certainly not religious-that was brief and probably didn't involve any great numbers. It seems clear to me from the document that "Cricket" was a game, and who can imagine any society spending a great deal of time and resources on a mere game? The Crucible of the Orcs Don Perrin
The mage Elkan stood beside his field commander, General Groth Jonar in the small sitting room off the library. His red robes flowed around him in garish expanse. He was a young man with a shock of blond hair and his cowl hung back on his red robes.
It had been a hundred years since the ice had receded from the lands of Dominaria, and for thousands of years before that, ice had ruled. The Kjeldorans had been formed from survivors of the advancing glacier wall, but they had fled to the east to find a better homeland-one that would last until the world could find warmth again.
Those first Kjeldorans had settled in a land previously claimed by the Balduvians. For nearly four centuries now, the Kjeldorans and the Balduvians had been at war. The Balduvians had faired worse than the well-organized, well-trained armies of Kjeldor, but Elkan was going to change all of that.
Elkan had ambition. He had always sensed that the age-old problem with Balduvian strategy was that no general could risk an army, since a force was far too important to their survival. An army that does not take risks is an army that always loses. True, the Balduvians won many battles, but they never won a campaign. That was why its people were living high in the mountains instead of on the fertile plains now claimed by Kjeldor.
Turning the failing axiom on its head, Elkan came up with the perfect solution. An army of expendable troops could win and keep winning, but at a terrible cost. He needed troops he could throw away and yet have more, and more after that. The orcs, he found, were his willing pawns, delivered by their most famous general, Jonar.
General Jonar was a tall orc warrior. He always wore his armor, his baton always by his side. The story of his rise to clans master and general of the orc armies was a long one, and he told it at every battle victory feast. He had a reputation for victory, although that had failed him in his last attempt. He had been disgraced by his defeat at the battle of Balesh Pass, his orcs running before the might of massed piked infantry. Jonar needed another victory to regain his standing within Balduvia and within the clans of the orcs. It was the only reason he listened to the young mage.
Elkan maintained a small suite of rooms in the secondary keep of the Balduvian stronghold. He was a junior mage and young even for that. Most mages did not qualify for such a position or such rooms until at least mid-life. He had gained advancement quickly.
Balduvia was under attack by General Varchild and the Kjeldoran Knights. Varchild was a new general who was gaining a reputation that was great for the Kjeldorans but was sapping the morale of the Balduvians. It was a time of severe strife for Balduvia, but it was a clear opportunity for an ambitious young wizard.
The mage and the general looked over the map for the battle that Elkan had planned. Jonar leaned forward and traced an area far south of the Balduvian stronghold near the approaches to Kjeldoran lands. The area circled in red was to be the most likely place to stop the army as it crossed from the plains and foothills below to the high ground of the mountain passes beyond.
"They will attack us here. I have no doubt. They must press the pass before we have forces available to stop them, " Jonar said, stabbing a finger at the map.
Elkan snorted arrogantly at the remark. "Why would they attack us here? Kjeldor does not have stupid generals, and I hear this Varchild is smarter than most. Why attack us while we still have complete access to the powers of the mountains? They will lure us first into the plains and use their knights to fight us. "
The point was a valid one and had been proven in several battles before. Both Kjeldoran and Balduvian mages had shown that they could draw mana from foothills, but the closer a Balduvian mage came to the plains, the more danger he was in.
"You do not understand, " the general retorted. "If we know that they will attempt to lure us, then we will not bite at the lure. Instead, we will feast later on the entrails of their mounts."
"You see my point precisely," Elkan replied, undeterred. "If we stay in the mountain passes, they will know where we are. They will devise ways to kill us. General Varchild is no idiot. We must take the fight to the enemy on her ground. She won't be ready for us, and we'll have the advantage."
"You cannot walk onto flat ground and pretend to have an advantage," Jonar barked. "You have not seen the White Knights and their thundering charges. They are a terrible sight to behold."
Elkan raised an eyebrow. "A little timid are we? I see that Balesh Pass is getting to you. Let me worry about the strategic, General. You worry about the tactical. After all, it is the strategic that cost you your position with the Balduvian Guard. I think the gold I am paying you should easily compensate you for your risk."
Jonar nearly ended it right there. It would have been simple to draw his dirk and slam it into the mage's chest. The blood would have matched the color of the robes so well, he thought to himself.
After several moments of silent struggle he was able to regain control over his emotions and let his reason carry the day. He still needed all the things that the mage promised. He could not go on without a victory, and no one else could provide the funding or the support necessary to provide for an army.
He shook his head, clearing it. "Very well. Show me your plan again."
It was easily the worst plan he'd seen in several years, but it had a glimmer of hope. He thought back to the Battle of Balesh Pass. That too had been a good plan, but it had failed utterly while worse plans had succeeded.
"If we can surprise them here on the approach to Mount Delapre," he said, "we can fight and retreat into the mountain passes above. They won't be able to chase us. You will have stronger magic in the higher ground. You should wait for us here-" he pointed to the mountain pass-"and prepare some surprises for those who chase us."
The mage nodded in thoughtful agreement.
"I see your thinking, General. Very well. Now, who do you have at your disposal?"
The general hesitated. His position within the orc hierarchy had been weakened. "I can only count on two clans."
The mage shook his head. "I am not surprised, General. In fact, I have foreseen this and have arranged for you to augment your force with the goblins of the Flarg mountains."
Jonar stood aghast. "Goblins? Goblins? I will not work with goblins. It is out of the question."