[b]Wheels in the desert[/b] Down in the southern deserts, a tribe of nomadic goblins had set up camp in the shade of a massive rocky outcrop, one which sheltered a precious oasis from the heat of the midday sun, while still giving the plants blooming around it enough light to grow. Said plants were currently in the process of being harvested however. Their feeding fruits had already been plucked off, and their seed fruits cored out so that the outside could be eaten and the inside planted. There’d be plenty of space for said seeds, as the foliage was in the midst of either being converted into lumber, or devoured by the tribe’s herd of rolly pollies. The large breeding and laying pair were busy devouring the leaves of all the trees, while their spawn rolled and crawled around nibbling up the little shrubs and other smaller plants. One of these little ones got a little over adventurous, rolling out of the patch the goblins wanted them in, and off towards the wilds. In response, one of the herders on watch called out “Wez got dat one!” to the others, and then he and another goblin mounted their shared steed to go after it. Said stead was no beast, bird or bug however, but rather a contraption of wood, copper and solidified silk supported by two wheels, which were padded with tyres made from the rubbery shells of rolly polly. The driver of this machine sat himself down on the machine’s saddle, grabbed its pair of handlebars, and then twisted one of them, causing a rope to pull a gear into place down in the body of the machine. Nothing happened. The goblin grumbled and then grunted to his copilot, a small goblin sat sideways on the back of the machine. This goblin leaned down and performed the sacred art of percussive maintenance on the device, prompting a trio of small rolly pollies inside of it to start running around an axle, which turned the gear, which turned a rope belt, which turned the rear wheel of the machine. With a traditional cry of “vroom vroom!” The goblins were off, speeding across shrub and sand on their two wheel contraption. Or rather on their bike. The rider left his fellows, who were lounging against several other bikes, in the dust, rolled past a few larger four or even six wheel buggies, and then raced after the errant polly, while his co-pilot whooped and cheered. As they got close she stopped making noise and instead pulled a spear that had been sticking up like an aerial out of its sheath, and then as they caught up with the polly used it to tap the bug on the side, guiding it to turn around and back towards the rest of the herd. That was, incidentally, also how they steered the big ones. The giant rolly pollies, near as large as the ones that had saved goblins and beastfolk from the desert generations ago, were wonderfully at transporting things around, but the problem was you couldn't really steer them from inside the crystalline axles they rolled around. So you had to be able to keep up and tap corrections onto them. Actual steeds had been used for this at first, but they tended to freak out about being around the big bugs, whereas their lesser kin were perfectly happy about that. The problem had been turning those into steeds. Everything from balancing on the axles to riding them as they were to hooking them up to sleds and carts or even using them as the wheels of carts had been tried at first, but the issue was that it was hard to get them to start and go when you wanted. Plus the inherently helpful and peaceful bugs didn’t like rolling at things, which made those contraptions too limited for certain types of goblin’s tastes. It had been the Maiden who had first gifted the goblins the gear, or so it was told, and from it dozens of variations of the buggy had been made. These machines would go only when you pulled a lever or pressed a pedal, and the pollies were safely stored inside where they could not see that you were running down your prey or into battle. They were perfect and amazing, though they did have a habit of breaking fairly easily due to the poor quality of materials available. Then the Mother had also given them art of painting them with certain shapes and patterns that made them better. The bike used to chase down the polly was decorated with red rings on its wheels, which made it go faster. The bigger buggies often had filled in circles for strength on their wheels, while the one dedicated warmachine they had had circles split into two halves, which made it much better at running things over. All of the tribe’s buggies were also decorated with fire on their chassis (bikes decked out like that more radical in their eyes, which was an important thing to be) hence the name of the tribe, the flame riders. The rider of the bike which had been chasing the rolly polly turned it to one side, sticking a foot down into the sand in-order to bring it to a halt while his co-pilot shouted “yeah git back der ya bug” at the rolly polly. She then moved to slot the spear back into its sheath, only to see something moving up on the ridge. It was a goblin, waving their arms and pointing behind them, out into the dunes. One of their lookouts, and the way they were freaking out could only mean bad news “Other gang maybe?” the driver guessed “From der? No ways. No water place for ages dat way!” the rider reapplied, which got a nod of agreement from the driver. They were about as far south from the river as you could get safely before the deep desert began after all, and they were both looking south right now. “Sneaky around maybe?” the rider suggested, which got a shrug, before he suggested “best go back den” right in time for a monster with a crocodile's tail, a 7 legged cheetah's body the size of a bear which had three eagle heads with beaks that split into three pieces stuck haphazardly onto it to come crashing over the top of a sand dune. “Broked wheels! What is dat!?” the driver cried out in a panic, only for the rider to slap him and shout “Who care! Floor it!” That got the driver going, the goblin kicking off the sand and revving the clutch, sending them zooming back towards the rest of the tribe. Despite this however, the speedy monstrosity kept coming, three beaks screeching as its paws kicked up sand behind it. “Shoot it! Shoot it!” the driver shouted at his rider, prompting them to move this time. She reached down to the other side of the spear, picked up an arrow and a short bow, notched the one into the other, and then fired. The arrow flew, and stuck rather perfectly into one of the eyes of the beast. Unfortunately it still had 5 more so this just made it mad. The goblin shot again, and again, and then slung the bow aside and grabbed the spear again, jabbing it forwards only for a three jawed maw to crunch around it, snapping it like a twig, and pulling the rider back and off her seat. Just before she fell however, the driver reached back and grabbed her hand, holding her on, but now unable to turn the clutch, causing them to lose buggy power. It would be over for them in a heartbeat, had the vocal cord produced sound of engine not have reached them as the rest of the tribe caught up, here to give them aid. Other riders let arrows fly, peppering the beast with arrows from both sides, slowing the beast enough that the one that had been about to bite the dust was pulled back to safety and her driver, who could then get his hands back on the throttle. As they sped away, the other bikers started circling the beast, surrounding it, heckling it, jabbing and shooting at it while it tried to lash out, only for the goblins it was attacking to swerve away and others swerved in to take advantage. One on dozens, the beast did not stand a chance, and soon enough it fell. “Yeah! We’z gonna eat good tonight!” the driver cheered as he watched it fall, but the still shaken by her near death experience rider was paying more attention, and noticed “Dat gobbo on ridge, dey still waving” Indeed, they were, and even more frantically now. Then they stopped for a moment as if in shock, before starting rapidly running to where they’d climbed up, shouting something at the other watchers who also climbed down. Whatever they were shouting reached the rest of the tribe near the oasis, who seemed confused for a moment, and then were revved into a flurry of movement. “Huh? Why dey packing up?” The driver asked, but the rider already knew why before the answer, or rather answers, came lopping over the same sand dune the beast they had put down had come from. Three more monsters, alike in no ways but their strangeness and their bloodlust. If there was one blessing, it was that none of these had the speed of the cheetah bodied one, but still, they were coming. “We get bow! Help!” the driver said as he sped off towards their dropped weapon, still thinking they could take these beasts even if he was a bit shaken, but the rider already knew the truth. “There more. Must be more. Tribe moving. We gotsta go!” Despite this insistence, she still snatched up the bow when they got close to it, but after that she pointed back to the rest of the tribe who were mourning up on carts or piling into the giant rolly polly’s transport rods and called out “Go back, flee! Too many!” to the others. Some laughed and raced into battle against the new threats, but those that looked back saw the truth. Specifically they saw a buggy riding towards them, and a goblin standing on the back waving them to come towards them. The goblins that complied made the right choice. It had only been a few dozen heart beats since the fresh three beasts had arrived when a dozen more broke over the sands. Then two dozen came after them. Then countless more. The third wave pinned several of the riders who had gone to fight the second between them, claws and hooves crushing buggies, maws and jaws feasting upon goblin and rolly polly alike. Only a few broke away, racing after the already fleeing rest. Most of them still died in the subsequent holding action made to buy the rest of the tribe enough time to get moving. After much blood, sweat and tears had stained the sand however, the nomad tribe was moving north, the herders becoming the herded as they were driven before the oncoming wave of hell. It was a pattern repeated all across the south, buggy riding goblins fleeing for their lives towards the river lands. When they hit the sedentary settlements there, a pattern repeated there too, and it was not a pretty one. They were sacred, desperate, and low on supplies from their flight. Some sold what they had to buy what they needed, or convinced the villagers to fight or flee with them, but many simply saw slow and deaf people who would soon be dead anyway, so why not take what they had so at least one of you would live? Thus in many places the first casualties of the invasion came not from the horrors themselves, but at the hands, and beneath the wheels, of those who were fleeing them. [hider=summary] There are now nomadic tribes of goblins out in the desert riding around on rolly polly powered bikes and karts collectively called buggies (because they are bug powered, get it?). They herd rolly pollies between patches of vegetation for a living. We meet the flame rider’s tribe, and watch some of their bikers first surround and kill one of the lesser outer beasts, before being forced to flee north when way way more of them show up right after. Other southern tribes end up in a similar situation, creating a rolling wave of fleeing buggy riding nomads that is ahead of the outer beasts, and which act both as an early warning of their approach, and as the first threat to the settled peoples of the riverlands, as many of them are more than willing to raid farms and villages for supplies as they keep trying to flee north. [/hider] [hider=mp] Start: 9 1 mp, enhanced by wheels, to teach goblins how to make buggies, crude rolly polly powered vehicles made of wood for the most part. They are pretty rickety but can get up a good clip on flat/smooth terrain. 1 bonus mp is used to bless the goblins who learn this technology to be supernaturally gifted at making these. Goblin buggies are simply superior, being faster, more durable, etc, than those made by non goblin hands, even if both machines are technically identical. Goblinoid beast-folk get this boon as well. 1 mp to teach the goblin buggy builders a bit about the power of patterns. Specifically teaching them the circle, sphere and split wheel symbols which represent the 3 forms of Asheel’s super cycle, and grant speed, durability, and killyness respectively if painted on the wheels of vehicles, as well as encouraging them to paint tribal heraldry on their machines that will gradually develop meanings of their own based on what the goblins believe they mean. Arguably a very crude form of runecraft. +1 towards witchcraft (currently 2/4) End: 7 [/hider]