Reclaiming the Wilds
The cool wind of the mountains breathed into Morthos’ face. The craggy peaks of the Eastern Mountains rose a day or two ride yet, but his legs twitched in the stirrups and his horse whinnied his agitation at his riders distraction. Urgmog, that damnable goblin fortress, obstructed the road ahead. He would have to pay his dues at the local tax-collector or run the risk of being stopped by the annoyingly frequent patrols in the area. Urgmog’s strength had grown in the last decade. With its increased strength, the city came into greater conflicts with Yazhagal, the neighboring fiefdom, whose power was also on the ascent. Morthos hated the Urgmog.