Goblin Bros episode 1 available now!

So proud to announce that my newest adventure story Goblins Born in Blood is available now!

Characters: Zyx & Nyx

In a deep dark cave far away from the eyes of civilization live creatures that no one cares to acknowledge let alone meet. They are monsters, they are nightmares, they are goblins. Hideous and cruel they lurk in shadows, steal and maim and murder all they can. They abide by a different set of rules than the civilizations of the realms. Even evil creatures such as dark elves have order; no, goblins are ruled by chaos. They survive only if they are strong enough and if they are not they are devoured by the very clan that birthed them; stripped of all they possess and forgotten as quickly as the sun sets beyond the mountains. Goblins are despised a reviled creatures; unloved and unwanted. Theirs is a frightening world.

As the flicker of flame from torches danced a hypnotizing dance two goblin whelps crawled along the cave searching for food. Their tummies growled as they often did and already they learned the first lesson of goblin life. Food is always difficult to come by and you will never cease searching for it. While the stomach may rule many creatures and all beings must eat to survive, the goblin is driven by it in a way that is difficult to understand. These two whelps, brothers they were, crept together in search of it as they had a hundred times before and would thousands of times after.

The deep caves of the world were not abundant in food. In pools of water there were sometimes slimy creatures that one could consume, mushrooms were common as well as some insects and bats, but none of these would be considered food by sophisticated beings. Only the creepy crawlers of the dark would consider them edible. That was the life of a goblin.

The boys stuck their hands in cracks in the rocks trying to discover a grub or a beetle of some sort, or if there were very lucky they could find a rodent. For quite some time they explored and searched unsuccessfully; pushing and shoving each other as they did. Yet, their stomachs continued to growl and their temperaments worsened.

At last a glow beckoned from ahead. They ducked down behind some stone when they first noticed it and clung to one another, but the glow did not harm them and so their ears perked up and they chose to follow it.

The light shone from some place much further than they anticipated and their keen eyes noticed it far before their other senses caught up. As they neared a tapping sound was added to the mystery. The goblin boys looked at each other blankly for help or reassurance but found none. There was no other option but to follow the light and the tapping and learn their origin.

With soft, light feet the boys slinked towards the light and the tapping, which they had never quite heard before, when an even stranger sound joined the tapping. It sounded like a creature but they never heard such a sound. It vaguely resembled the sound some of the goblins made when they were very much drunk from cave wine but those were typically unpleasant sounds while these were something harmonious, something happy. Harmonious and happy were entirely foreign concepts to the goblin brothers and they could not make sense of it whatsoever.

The sounds of the tapping turned to clanging and yet it was the humming that pierced their ears and their hearts. The boys crawled, knowing they were very close, and as they slipped into the shadows of a hallway they nearly tripped over themselves as they found a lone dwarf mining away in this section of the cave.

The boys dove behind more stone and huddled together limbs shaking and lips quivering. For several long minutes they remained, clinging to each other awaiting certain death. Yet death did not seem interested in the boys. As the fog of fear lifted slightly the sound of the dwarf humming eased their spirits. Their hearts slowed and they loosened their grip on each other enough to peer over the stone and study the dwarf.

Their eyes widened as they watched a grey haired sturdy dwarf dressed in leather and swinging and iron pickax and humming. He didn’t notice the boys as far as they could tell. The dwarf swung his ax heavily against the stone then inspected the result of his blow then struck again, all the while humming a steady tune. Behind him a few feet away there was a leather pack large enough for both the boys to fit inside if they wanted to stow away to where ever this dwarf lived, though the thought never occurred to them as the grumbling of their tummies interrupted their enjoyment of the hypnotic tune and their keen noses alerted them that there was some dried meat in the pack along with ale. This was the prize they sought.

The boys looked to each other and knew they would try to steal the dwarf’s pack, or at least what was inside. Without the benefit of a plan they pressed themselves to the cold stone floor of the cave, their loose loin cloths leaving them exposed to the coldness of the stone and its jagged edges but they learned long before to ignore both. They were life.

Like snakes along the floor they slithered to the pack, the dwarf intently mining for a gem which caught the boys’ eyes. It glimmered from the dark stone surrounding it and the light from the dwarf’s torch reflected from one of its finer edges. Distracted for only a moment the scent of food kept them focused enough and soon they found themselves upon the pack.

A drawstring was tied round it securing it from the boys, but one of the brothers pulled a bone dagger from his waistband and began sawing the string. The dwarf still did not notice the boys as he hammered away at the stone and hummed his song. At last the string was cut and the boys reached in and quickly found the food they longed for. As they did so however at last the old dwarf turned and saw the boys.

“You filthy buggers!” he roared and kicked at the two whelps catching one on the back side and sending him toppling end over end before crashing against the stone wall. The

other raised his bone dagger to threaten the dwarf but with pickax in hand a mighty swing sent the puny goblin ducking and scampering away for cover. Both goblins quickly fled running on all fours like monkeys they never looked back but shrieked and tripped and crashed their way from the dwarf.

The old dwarf cursed at them but was in no mood and no shape to chase a pair of goblin whelps so he gave up pursuit before it even began.

Sunday’s are for Writing

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been doing a lot of writing lately. Since publishing The Sureshot Rises I’ve been re-energized and motivated to do more of it. I’m working on editing the finished draft of Sureshot the Assassin, the sequel, and several other projects as usual.

One of the projects I’m working on is my Goblin story that started a couple years ago. I figure in order to keep up the idea of being a writer, I need to publish something once a year. I gave myself the best possible chance by publishing in January. Not sure if I want to publish Sureshot 2 right away or wait and publish something else first, so, in the meantime I’ll keep writing.

Last week I finally jumped back on my Goblin Brother’s story, which you can check out on its own page. It was a pain in the butt because I hadn’t written a word of it for over six months. I do that to myself all the time. Finishing Sureshot 3 is going to suck, I haven’t written a word of it for about five years. It meant reading through the whole story again and then figuring out where I want to go with it. Good news is, if I fall off the wagon I completed a detailed outline finally so that I can get back on track easily. Its a fun story to write and I think readers will like it too. With that, I’m going to get to it. Cheers!

Fall of Gloryfate

Generations ago a clan of dwarves stood out among the other clans and shone brighter than any other. Gloryfate Clan was chief in the old world and was renown throughout the land. Master craftsmen of both weapons and jewelry, trade caravans traveled far to gain access to the Gloryfate riches. Days were good and the halls of Gloryfate glimmered in the mountain depths. All good things come to an end however.

Goblin hoards crawled from cracks in the stone and clawed at the luxury of the clan with lust. As a sand storm they assaulted the hall and wrecked havoc where ever their filthy feet carried them.

Gloryfate would not be undone by some dirty goblins however and their stout warriors fought back with strength and fury, pushing back the unholy creatures. When it appeared that the vermin would be exterminated the giants arrived. 


Huge creatures cold and angry plunged into the battle and left a path of death and destruction in their wake. Their hatred of the dwarves was unmatched by anything the dwarves had seen before and in spite of their bravery, fear crept in among their ranks. The giants could end Gloryfate, 

A weapon was commissioned. CLan King Oloben Gloryfate ordered his best smiths to forge a weapon for their king to weild and break the strength of the giants. Furiously the smiths worked without rest until, at last, they completed their task.They presented to their king a battle hammer unmatched in the world. They called it Gloryfate Giantbane. 


As Oloben Gloryfate lifted the weapon for the first time his hands were filled with courage that rushed like lifeblood throughout his body. His eyes blazed with vengeance and his clan rallied behind their king as they thrust in to the giants as a dagger into flesh. 

Giantbane crushed the beasts under its massive strength; breaking bones and caving skulls. Its song was the howls of giants under its weight and the song was sung loud. The notes echoed in the stone halls of Gloryfate clan. 

Giants could not resit Oloben’s vengeance and fell at his feet; bashed and crushed by his hammer fueled by his anger. But one still stood. 


A fabled foe stood tall against the king. He was Zanros Titan fist, Death Dealer; an ancient giant who led the war against the dwarves. He craved blood and death and hated dwarves beyond all other creatures for their constant tunneling and mining. Olobin found him surrounded by dwarf bodies, blood dripping from his lips. The two kings rushed each other and collided like mountains crashing together.

Their battle raged on, rumbling ever deeper into the earth. The mountains shook as they smashed and hit and kicked and pummeled each other. Dwarves and giants alike watched the champions dual to the death, pausing for a moment their savage conflict to witness a struggle more epic than any in multiple lifetimes. 

The battle was an earthquake, felt throughout the relm. Oloben swung his warhammer smashing the giant and Zanros countered, spitting hateful spells and swinging a wicked flail, each crushing against cave walls, shattering stone and bone alike. The struggle threatened to split the earth in their fury and rage. At last they drew close to death, their bodies and will wavered. 

With a final mighty blow, Oloben Giant Slayer, Champion of Prohpecy, Dwarf Avenger, crushed Zanros’ chest toppling the mighty foe. The wicked creature did not die quietly however and whispered one final, hateful curse that gripped the dwarf king’s heart and turned it black as if a dark cloud covered the sun and cast a long shadow over once beautiful land. The dwarf king collapsed. 

Dwarves ran to their king and giants rushed to theirs. No longer fighting, each breed tended to their champion. The giants carried their fallen king back to the depths from which they crept, and dwarves gathered their king to carry him to his throne room. The warhammer, Gloryfate Giantbane, had cracked and broken into two halves with the shaft separated from each. 

The dwarves laid Olobin down with the shaft of his hammer in his cold hands. The darkness gripped him and squeezed the life from his body. Mourning began and priests rushed to try to lift the curse from him. They prayed desperately that Moradin spare their king. To no avail. 

Within days the curse stole his life away. The moment the king exhaled for the last time a furious earthquake shook the mountain. Zanros had cursed not only they king, but the entire clan. Rock collapsed from the ceiling and walls crumbled and caved. The quake seemed endless as dirt and dust filled the air choking those were not crushed by the rubble. Darkness fell in Gloryfate Hall. 

When the rumbling was through and tourches were lit, Gloryfate clan was destroyed. Like the hammer, the hall had cracked in two. Rubble and rock separated the halves of the great clan. Weeks of digging could not reunify the clan. Families were lost or split up. Entire sections of the hall were gone. The king and his throne room were buried along with the shaft of Gloryfate Giantbane. The two halves of the hammer were also separated. One on each side of the hall. 

In time the dwarves found their way out of the mountain though they were now divided. Gloyfate was no more. Eventually two new clans rose from the ruin of the one from the refugees that survived the tremendous battle. They were Battlefate and Gloryborn. Each thrived on opposite sides of the insurmountable range. Each believed they had kin on the opposing side. Neither knew for certain. Glory and Fate remained separate. 

Game intro: Missing in Action

Goblin parts litter the town and blood soak the ground.Fires burn and smoke fills the night sky but they will be put out. Goblins snuck into Konigsberg! Upon investigation a tunnel is discovered and dwarves immediately begin filling it. At least they haven’t attacked the walls yet and instead they are left to digging underneath. It is annoying but can be dealt with. Dwarves are great in tunnels as well and so the goblins have little advantage underground.

There is reason to celebrate! Gareth is through. He is shackled and tied and tossed into Gnarl’s dungeon awaiting interrogation. Jared is exausted but pleased. He alone can manage the humans now and he can be trusted by the dwarves. Ale is passed around as you rest from the long night of battle. There is no need to ration any, one never knows whether his next mug will be his last.

During your celebration you notice you are one hero short. The minotaur is not present. Quickly you begin asking around and everyone agrees that they saw him in battle but cannot recall him with you as the final goblin was cut down. Where is he? Did he fall? Did the goblins capture him and carry him down the tunnel? Then you recall the slavers who tried to claim the bounty on his head. Did they return? Have they been waiting for another chance to lash your friend and haul him away? Nothing is clear and in the clamor of battle and no one can know for sure where he is.

Will you go in search of him? How will you find him? What will you risk to recover your loyal monk?

Game intro: A heroes work is never done

Konigsberg relies on you over and over again to keep it from collapse and every time you managed to come through. You are heroes. You repelled goblin attacks, located druids to help you in your defense, defeated skeletons and recovered weapons designed for a similar foe. You uncovered a traitor in your midst and saved some dwarf slaves. Most recently you saved the captain of the guard from capture and learned that indeed Lord Gareth has been plotting the demise of the dwarves from the beginning. Captain Jared got in his way and was nearly eliminated. The questions remains what to do about Gareth…
The night is well established as guards interrogate the remaining thug that held Jared. Clerics attend the Captain in a room nearby and heal his wounds. The group gathers around the long table in Konigsberg hall with Arsenal ever present at its head. The veteran dwarf scowls with deep lines across his forehead like the lines of ore his people mine deep in the caverns and caves of the mountains. His eyes are dark and penetrating. At last he speaks, his voice a rumble like the mountains that bore him:
“We cannot stand such subversion any longer. Gareth has tried to undermine our efforts from the beginning. It is clear to me now. Something must be done. We cannot continue to resist the enemy at our gates while one stabs at our backs. I worry that there is only one course of action.”
Gnarl growls and slams his fist, “I’m not worried,” the dark warrior shouts. “Gareth brought this upon himself. We are at war! Besieged! We will fall if we have to spend precious energy fighting his thugs while we should be spending it on the bloody goblins! I say we deal with him once and for all!”
“But we do not know what we are up against,” cautions Arsenal, ever calm even in the face of calamity. “How wide his is influence? How deep are his pockets? What if such an action incites open civil war within our city?” 
“Then we’re dead already!” Gnarl shouts. “There is no more time! We must end this tonight! Every day we waste allows him to grow stronger and us to get weaker. Soon it will be too late. We saved the captain and killed some of his men. I say we do it now. Before he can regroup!”
There is a pause as eyes shift between the warrior and the master cleric. They juxtapose strength and anger against wisdom and patience. It seems there could be no resolution between them. Then Jared slowly and proudly walks into the hall. His armor is dented and bloodied. His face is worn and bruised but his eyes shone bright like the moon reflecting off a pool at midnight. All pause and look at the proud captain and trusted ally. He waits a moment before speaking as if to gather strength from the honor the group offers him. 
At last he speaks, loud and strong, “We must attack Gareth tonight. He will not be satisfied until he controls Konigsberg. He will continue to subvert your efforts and he is willing to let the entire city fall in the process. It ends tonight. This has gone too far. I’m heading there now.” He turns and sword in hand begins marching from the hall and into the night.
Who’s with him? 

A change is over taking Konigsberg

Intro to last night’s game:

A change is over taking Konigsberg. The city used to bustle and sing, full of joy and love. Darkness and fog swallowed it and now there is fear and chaos. Many of the inhabitants fled. They could only ignore the hoards of goblins gathering for a siege outside of the city for so long. The fires of their camps and the sound of their drums tended to grip the heart and squeeze until a body’s head hurt and breath was short. Some cracked and ran. In their place others have arrived. With so much attention on the eastern wall the western has been neglected. A collection of thieves, bandits, thugs, mercenaries and slavers have slipped into the city undetected replacing the peaceful citizens and creating a tension that builds like water beyond a dam. A town can only handle so many nefarious types before it breaks. 
Meanwhile your focus has been on gathering a force significant enough to challenge the goblins and then the giants who have taken over the mines and the great hall in the mountain, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. If only there were more dwarves. The humans and barbarians are all good warriors but they do not match up as well and seem as motivated as the dwarves who fight for their home, their race and their lives. You know the attack will come. Will Konigsberg be ready? Will you be ready?