Adventures of Cap'n Greenlump Audiobook

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Swashbuckling Tales of Cap’n Greenlump

This tavern looks like a proper hive of scum and villainy aye? All of ye pirates, scoundrels, mercenaries, sell-swords and monstrous folk rejoice, for I come here into you little den in the name of my most esteemed cap'n, The Scourge of the Sea of Joy, The Green Terror, The Mad Murderer, The one and only...Captain Greenlump. I come here to offer you a place in our crew; all of ye brave enough to accept shall be rewarded with fortune and glory beyond your imaginations. Pillaging, plundering, raiding and slaying are our routines. We laugh in the face of death and danger for there is nothing that can stop our cap'n once he set his sight upon something, but I believe you've all already heard of him haven't ye, so there is nothing more to...

What did you say? That you haven't heard of my captain. Someone, take the fool outside and tell him of the mighty deeds Cap'n Greenlump had done. What do you mean by "No one here has heard of him." None of you have heard of the Battle of the Crystalline Bay? The Arson of Aankaarell? Not even the Raid of Gnomš? (What backwards hole have I stepped into this time). Well since you lot are so uneducated, it looks like it's up to me to enlighten you about the greatest pirate to have ever sailed these seas. 

Someone bring me a stool and a bottle of rum. You there fiddler, start fiddling that fiddle of yours. Light up the hearth and all of you gather 'round me, for I have tales to tell to you now. 

So...let's start at the beginning, shall we? 

From what I've heard, our captain was always a little bit of an outcast, even among his own kind and that's probably the reason he was never a part of any goblin tribe or anything. I personally still don't know whether he is a madman or a genius, but I don't care, because he gets us through crap anyway. No one except for his closest mates know what he was up to before he made a name for himself, but it doesn't really matter, because our first tale is the one that truly made him famous, or infamous I should rather say. It is the story, of how cap'n and his crew of  two other goblins and one kobold managed to steal a mighty military galleon. 

It happened on a bright and sunny summer day in Joytown, our cap'n and his companions were spending their time for whoever knows what reason, when they noticed a great magnificent ship docking in the harbour. I said it was a galleon, but that ain't exactly true. It was a strange gigantic hybrid of a ship. Over 220 feet long  and the beam of about 30 feet. It had four huge masts rigged with four enormous sails, however unlike other ships of its kind it also had two banks of oars and quite a shallow depth. So something between a galleon and a galley one could say. Oh, and I forgot to mention the various ballistae, catapults and a handful of those new things called cannons it had on board. Our cap'n knew that stealing such a vessel wouldn't be exactly easy and so he needed the most valuable asset there is (besides numbers, firepower, magics, and a bunch of other stuff) information. That's where one of our cap's first and most trusted advisors comes through, a spy like no other a goblin who turned his greatest weakness into his greatest asset...Boblin the Goblin. A small and inconspicuous rogue, born with a hideous deformity rare in our kind, one that the humies call "a cute and loveable face". For some reason the so called "sophisticated races" find him trustworthy and often allow him on their greatest secrets without much coercion. That's why he was assigned to infiltrate the ship to find out more about the crew, where they drink, what they do, when they sleep, and most importantly, if anyone of them could be persuaded into joining our cap'n's crew instead. The cunning mastermind that is Boblin managed to do so without much effort and quickly became a relished part of the crew, but none of them knew of the intricate web of lies and trickery he was spinning to prepare them for the next phase in Captain Greenlump's great plan. 

Whilst Boblin was doing his scheming and spying, our cap'n was using his wits and knowledge of the Joytown underworld to find himself some new additions to the crew. Stealing a ship is nice and all, but it wouldn't be of much use without some proper sailors to sail her. After scrounging through a number of rotten and shifty taverns, captain found himself in  a nice sizeable company of races that were commonly despised by others. Persuading them was no hard task as most of them were piss-poor and bloody angry, mostly thanks to the fact that no decent establishment would hire them and everyone was always looking down on them. But while the old goblin saying "strength is in numbers" is sacred, numbers alone wouldn't do here, our captain needed some brute muscles as well. Unfortunately the brute strong races usually look down on us goblins as well, and our captain was mostly unsuccessful in persuading them. Most useful to his endeavour would be minotaurs, strong as bulls (hehe...) and phenomenal sailors, but our kinds don't really see eye to eye, with their honour idiocracy and all. He managed to convince about half of the orcs in Joytown (which means two) but it still cost him a nice bit of begging and grovelling. He exquisitely gambled with a dark dwarf and swindled him out of a stone golem. Mind you the dwarf was long gone when our captain realized he forgot to ask for the command word, but I think he has it in his cabin up to this day, and a fine piece of statuary it is. Our cousins the trolls would have been excellent, but apparently there never was a single troll in Joytown, possibly because they do not really understand sea-travel. After a long search, it seemed that only one other option remained...ogres. They are strong and brutish, that be true, but we goblins like a little bit of subtlety, and while the other strong races can at least grasp the meaning of the word, ogres usually respond to subtlety with "smash, smash, smash", so our captain didn't really want to hire them...but he had no choice. He heard that there was a group of about two dozen ogres in town that were looking for a way to legally "smash some humies to bits." Once our cap'n approached their leader, he noticed that they were at least a little bit more civilised and intelligent than most others of their race, which was a good sign. The bad part was that they were trying their best to be respectable members of society to battle the so called race prejudice. Mind you they were as bloodthirsty and brutish as all other members of their kind, they just wanted to break bones under the banner of civilised races. They wanted organised blood games, arena fights to the death, and other legal ways how to kill people. They usually worked as bouncers, debt collectors and bodyguards, but they created this small community of theirs, because that's what the proper races do. Once our captain found this out, he realized what had to be done, he had to convince those ogres that stealing a private military vessel, killing the people on it, and using it to do acts of piracy was not forbidden by the law. Fortunately for us, goblins are the best lawyers in the business and from what I've heard this wasn't the hardest case due to a few key points: 1) The plutocratic Joytown laws were made to make the rich get richer and powerful, anything not regarding money was deliberately left with as many loopholes as possible, so the rich can do whatever they want. 2) Our captain is and was a masterful forger. 3) No matter how civilised, ogres are not the brightest. 4) Everyone believes what they want to believe and if someone wants to believe that "humie skulls need smashing to bitz" then it isn't hard to convince them it is so. So after a little bit of subterfuge, the ogres decided to help our cap'n to "reclaim his stolen ship from the thieves, with the right to kill anyone who defies this order issued by the city council, and to then sail with us as corsairs working for Joytown, but with the ability to raid Joytown ships as well, for the purpose of hiding their  true allegiances." Now that our captain had both crew and information, it was time for the final phase of the plan.

With most of  the pieces fallen into place it was time to begin the final phase of the plan. Captain decided to wait until nightfall when most of the ship's crewmembers were enjoying their shore leave in various drinking holes and the ones who had remained on the ship were tired and unassuming. It probably also didn't help that Boblin added a little bit of our special goblin seasoning provided and brewed by the cap'n's right hand, a powerful shaman some call the Stormcaller, others know him as the Magnificent Gobbo. This concoction added to the crew's food made them see the world in a... let's say different light. Out of the hundred crewmembers stationed on board at the moment, about forty were in the condition to fight after Boblin's little sabotage. Overtaking the ship now wasn't the problem, trying to discreetly get the whole crew of goblins, ogres, kobolds, and more throughout the city to the ship without raising suspicion was. Our cap'n knew that that sneaking wasn't an option and would only alert everyone nearby that something nefarious was going on, so a distraction was in order. Something that wouldn't hide the presence of the monstrous force going towards the ship, but something that would shift the attention elsewhere. The Boom-master was the kobold for the job. A small array of surgically timed explosions happening at once over the city and a decently sized fire growing around the wooden foundations of Joytown's market caused quite a ruckus on the streets from what I've heard. People did notice the small army marching through the city, but that in their minds a problem for later. We goblins like subtlety and sabotage, but we also like some proper butchering and bloodshed, and once the crew got to the harbour...well let's just say that time for subtlety was over. The few Joytown guards left at the docks knew better than to stand in our cap'n's  way and so the way to the ship was direct and clear. Once the solid ground was no longer under their feet and only creaking wood of the warship remained, the true race began. The remaining crew of the ship started ringing the bells to call for help and the vessel had to be taken before that help came. I have to say I regret that I wasn't there to see it, imagine the atmosphere: Middle of the night, the sky is red with fire and ash, the dooming bells are ringing sounding, the time is running out, and there is a bunch of humies that are ready to put up decent fight, but they are outnumbered enough so that stabbing them in the back is a safe and sound tactic. I ain't much of a poet but by me, this is as poetic as it gets. The fight was short and brutal, mostly due to the fighting prowess of our Cap'n Greenlump, and possibly the ogres who were ready to unleash their pent-up legally bound rage upon the "humie skulls". But once those pink-skins were dead the race wasn't over. Cap'n started shouting commands towards his crews: "Ogres to the oars, goblins to sails, raise the bloody anchor, run the rigging. Everyone else, SHOVE US OFF!, and Boom-Master, send them a few gifts from us aye." and that he did, I've heard that there were at least thirty men on the pier when it exploded. Everything worked like a well oiled machine and it wasn't long before the crew were quickly leaving Joytown behind. Everything was going splendidly until it wasn't. What our captain didn't anticipate was that just when he had finally managed to steal the warship, after weeks of planning no less, that he will have had chosen the exact same time to steal something, during which a Joytown pirate patrol of four ships decided to return to resupply. Fortunately the patrol didn't know the vessel was stolen, unfortunately one ogre "panicked" and decided to fire a catapult upon them. Captain decided that the best course of action was to utilize the honed and mastered goblin tactic of running away as fast as possible. The wind was however not in his favour, as he wanted to sail into the wind, so that chasing ships would have to compete against the strength of ogre rowers. The situation didn't really look good, but an unlikely miracle came to his help. The ogre leader came up to the captain and said something like "I got this captain" and went onto the ship's stern. He had a strange ornate club in the shape of a ship, that he raised over his head and smashed into our boat. The ship started violently rocking, but it gained quite a lot of speed for some reason. Cap'n looked behind to see what the hell happened, and he saw that the pursuing ships were somehow shoved off course and one of them was quite badly damaged, and since humies and other similar races are usually so soft hearted, all the ships stopped pursing to help that one ship from sinking. When later asked about what he did, the ogre leader simply said "Big wave". Now this was the story of how my cap'n got his famous vessel and how he is the most cunning and clever goblin there is (not as charming as me of course), so...what say you, are you ready to join his crew?

You need to hear more you say? I understand. Most of you probably think you are not worthy enough for our group. After all, we are  an experienced group of cutthroats and pirates and survival in our crew requires a certain set of skill, but don't worry, you learn them  if you live long enough, and if you don't...well then it won't really bother you, will it? You either adapt, or you die, our cap'n surrounds himself with only the best. That's something I would call his greatest strength. Most goblin leaders are paranoid and usually only surround themselves with bootlickers and cowards who are weaker and less ambitious than them and tries to keep them in check by fear and force, our cap'n is different. He doesn't have these delusions of grandeur, he knows that without his crew and companions he is but a goblin, an exceptional and mighty goblin no doubt, but still only one goblin. You've already heard of some of his ship officers, Boblin the Spy-Master, the ogre lieutenant, the kobold boom-master called...well The Boom-Master. But the most important one of the lot is and was the captain's right hand goblin. Called by many names: the Stormcaller, the Tidebringer, the Squid-warder and the Magnificent Gobbo. He was a...shaman? Well I don't really know what he was, I've heard that some mercenaries called him something like...Hyd..Hadro...Hydra-Mancer (I've never seen him conjure a Hydra or anything, so I don't know where that came from, but anyway...), what I know is that he was really good with water. I don't know how, but winds were always in our favour and the most dire storms seemed to go around us while he was on board, I would even dare say he was almost as essential to the crew as our captain was (His absence is probably the reason things aren't going that well these days). Now I believe like any other goblin that there is a grain of lie in any truth, and I didn't believe those tales about powerful wizirds or whatnot capable of lifting mountains and summoning rains of fire, but I believe my own eyes and it was with them that I saw what this goblin was capable of. So let me tell you of the Clash of Fire and Water as our crew's half-orc poet later named it. 'Twas some time ago and I was just new recruit on the Flotsam, as it was named after the daring commandeer. The day that is happened on seemed simple enough. We were cruising around the Southeren Strait, plundering any trading ships within sight and avoiding patrols. We didn't really have any large haul for quite some time, with a decent halfling merchant brig carrying carrots and turnips being the biggest. We were yearning for something valuable, some nice unprotected cog carrying jewellery or gold. To our fortune (or misfortune, considering further events) that's exactly what appeared on the horizon. A large cog, with a single mast and a single brightly red sail. Joyful commotion started on The Flotsam as we started to make our way towards that seemingly merchant ship. As we approached we realized two things, it was better defended than most other merchant ships, and it looked even more valuable than we initially thought. The wood it was made from looked exotic and dark, and many parts of the ship were gilded. "This seems too good to be true" I said to myself at the time and before I realized it I noticed the Magnificent Gobbo was standing next to me looking at the merchant ship with brooding face. "I have a bad feeling about this" he says to me and he starts caressing the slimy tentacled creature on his staff. He whispered something to the creature and it jumped from the staff into the water. I stared flabbergasted and speechless at the creature as it started making its way towards the vessel. The ship was about a thousand feet away when the creature  returned and jumped back onto the shaman's staff. The shaman leaned towards it, and an expression of shock came onto his face. He quickly ran towards the cap'n and started shouting "Turn it around! Turn it Around!" "Why, it looks like we will finally have some fat loot again." Answered the Cap'n to the joy of most of the crew. "It's a Zhaarhasian ship cap'n." says the shaman. "And what does that mean?" retorted the captain. "Demons cap'n...demons and magic." Cap'n stood there for not knowing whether to turn the ship or not. As fate would have, he didn't have to make that decision, because soon after, a small ball of fire appeared in the corner of my eye. I only managed to yell "GET DOWN!" before the ship's wheel exploded in a burst of fire and force. Some crewmembers were thrown overboard, some burned, and some became a pile of ash. Captain managed to dodge in time to come out of it unharmed, but as he got back to his feet, he saw a thing he didn't expect. The enemy vessel was now approaching us. 

Now I don't how many of you have ever sailed on a ship, so let me tell you one important thing: Fire is bad. Explosive fireballs with killing intent...worse. When these things started being fired at us, any plans of capturing the enemy ship undamaged were gone, we were fighting for survival now and we had to use everything at our disposal. We were too close to use the catapults now, but the cannons and ballistae were still at our disposal. But most importantly, we had two things that could even the scales a bit, speed...and a bloody giant naval ram. Our captain told most of the crew to follow him and rushed towards the upper rowing deck. He ordered everyone to either start or keep rowing like they never had before, to sink the bastards to the bottom of the sea for damaging our precious vessel. Flotsam started accelerating towards the Zhaarhasian ship, which was now showing its broadside and unleashing hells upon us. Whilst cannons are not that ordinary, I expected at least some weapons on board, but from I understand it now, Zhaarhasian weapons are not of the metal kind. What I saw instead was a line of fiendish flaming creatures, chained and frothing with rage and madness and being ordered to shoot fire at us by some fancy dressed humies. What was however maybe more terrifying was the array of beautiful female goblins with wings flying towards our ship. I am not the one to resist temptation, but I've heard stories of creatures that made good sailors lose their minds with lust and jump overboard, these creatures seemed like the ones to do those kinds of things. But now was not the time to look around, the enemy ship was changing its course so it could dodge our ramming and I would have none of that happen on my watch. I alone couldn't do anything about it, but I knew of someone who could. The Stormcaller was running around the deck, creating sprays of water and small rains to quell the ongoing fires on the ship and seemed too busy to notice the flying creatures and the turning ship. I ran towards him, dodging one explosion after another, making may way across the maze of blaze happening around until I got to him. "We have to stop them, they're turning their ship around!" "Are they now?" answered the shaman. He then quickly made his way towards the and I followed suit. On his was he quickly gestured towards a few other crewmen that remained on the main deck to follow him. "I need to concentrate on this. You six, protect me from those rotten fiends." He then raised his hands in the air  and I could see his body tense up and exert itself, almost as if he was trying to hold a heavy invisible above himself. I didn't know what the shaman could do here, but I hoped he would be capably of stopping the ship. After some moments of nothing happening, I almost said "I knew not to believe those charades of wizards and magic" but then I realized that the enemy ship was turning no more, and it wasn't for the lack of trying. No, it was trying to turn alright, but then I noticed the giant hands  of water emerging from the deeps and holding the ship in place. Shiver me timbers and call me a gnome, I was a believer now. But the fun was not yet over, we still had those pigeons to take care off. Our chosen group of six goblins were tasked with protecting the shaman, thus shooting those winged fiends down. Unfortunately two of us had shortbows on our hands, fortunately the bow was equipped with a few...alternatives. There was a bigger ballista used mainly against ships on a raised platform in the middle of the bow, but that one was cumbersome and slow to reload. But in addition to that, there were also two smaller scorpions on the railing. The four of us without bows divided into pairs and we manned these overgrown crossbows and started shooting like our lives depended on it. Up to this day I still don't know how we did it, but we managed to send at least a dozen of these sparrows to the depths before they reached our ship; But some still did. The two of them winged goblin ladies landed near us and exposed their long claws and fangs to us. Looking at them I suddenly felt the urge to help them, to kill my companion near me, Now I usually don't refuse a beautiful lass, but this didn't seem like the proper time. I realized what was happening and I knew I had to do something to clear out my mind. I smacked my head upon the railing as hard as I could and the pain sure made me cool down. I was afraid that my friend near me was having similar problems, so I did him the favour and smacked his head as well. We both drew our scimitars and charged at the lady nearer to us. They seemed taken off by our conviction, as not one of us six was beguiled by those wretched harlots. I could see fear in their eyes as we charged at them, and they tried to take to the skies once again. Upon trying to do so however, the flesh around the chains their bodies were wrapped with started sizzling and burning. The chains started glowing with red and blue light and seemed to put the demons into massive agony. Now I understand that they were probably defied the orders of their Zhaarhasian masters and that's why the chains did what they did, but at the time I was glad that I had an easier time while cutting their head off. I was blind with bloodlust and triumph that I didn't see that others on the deck weren't as successful in getting rid of those bloody seductresses. Our men were fighting against each other and against the clawed harpies and they were losing. There were about twenty more of those demons on board and they were quickly cutting their way through our crew and they were quickly getting closer to us. We were lucky that we managed to defeat the two of them when I saw how they could dismember an orc in seconds with those razor-like claws of theirs. We were tasked with protecting the Stormcaller and that's what we were going to do, it was our final hope. But in the midst of being slaughtered, a sudden impact hit us and nearly threw us on the ground. The impact was accompanied by painful creaking of wood and by shouts of terror from behind. Our ram had finally found its target. And with that all of our rowers were free to join the battle, and join it they did. They arrived like a tidal storm upon the main deck, crushing the damned chickens against their feet. But we weren't the only ones waiting for a proper fight. The chained and bound hellish creatures and their masters were preparing themselves also for the bloodshed and they began boarding our ship as well. The proper battle was about to begin. 

I know that when talking loyalty, goblins are usually not the ones to judge, but let me tell you something; we are resourceful and we like to live, we are no less loyal than any of you lot. One cannot really be loyal anymore if he is dead, and if our lives are put in severe danger because of our loyalty, then disloyalty is the only option to secure potential future loyalty. Demons on the other hand...well they have it the other way round. Which is why it was such a treat to see them turn upon their masters in battle.

As we were cutting down one Zhaarhasian after another, the binds that held their demon slaves obedient began to break, and oh...break they did. They didn't become any less dangerous to us mind you, but there was something deeply satisfying in seeing our enemies burn from the same fires that plagued us just moments ago. The fight was going in our favour now, but was still far from being won. 

We few who were protecting the Stormcaller continued to do so, as he started to summon a mighty storm to aid us in our battle and to quench the fires that would harm our ship. It took all his effort to maintain it however and that's why we wouldn't allow any foe to get near him. 

We took care of the few dark skinned humies that dared to try to get to our shaman, but our job whilst very important, wasn't that difficult. The slave-masters usually kept their pets by their side to defend them, and once those masters died, those...pets didn't really care for strategy, this was not a battle for them to win...but to enjoy.   

There was however one slight problem in our safe strategy; the storm that our shaman created caused quite a dribble to appear, and it would seem that demons are what you would call water creatures. One such demon in particular decided that getting rid of the annoying rain would be preferable to dismembering nearby mortals. And he was unfortunately intelligent enough to understand what Stormcaller was doing. 

How do demons even look you might ask. Well I don't know. Those I have seen differed vastly, and while there surely is something that makes a demon a demon, I don't know them. What I know is what this one looked. 

I'm not good at describing otherworldly stuff with these big words like eldritch and primordial and elemental, so I'll put it how I saw it: Imagine a ghost, then put it on fire, then cover that ghost in charcoal armour, the fire from the ghost is mostly inside that armour, but it still manages to find its way through any imperfections, but mostly from the eye slit. The eye slit from which you only see intense burning rage and two red eyes of fire. That's about how I would describe the thing that was cleaving its way through our comrades with a giant two-headed battleaxe, did I mention that it was about seven feet tall and had a giant massive black battleaxe. 

Even though this thing was making its way towards me, I remained unwavering in my loyalty and without wavering I cleared off from its way, taking the shaman's hat with me, for safekeeping reasons . My other companions had the similar idea and soon the immobile Stormcaller was facing the demon alone, without having to worry about us. Even though we had faith in his ability to defeat the foe, we realized that something had to be done.

One of my mates tried to circle him and stab him in the back. A valid and intelligent strategy in most cases, not in this one however. But it did give us some more time to think about a plan as goblin throats are famously strong and crushing one takes a second.

I and the boys were frantically trying to find something when my eyes stumbled upon a dead demon body, a body covered in strong magical chains, my second glance then went to the raised anchor dangling from the bow, next to the Stormcaller and in front of the demon. My mates quickly grasped what was going on and we nodded in understanding. There was however a slight problem, we needed someone to grab the demon's attention, and no one wanted to volunteer. 

Loyalty is a funny thing isn't it, a goblin loyalty is at least pragmatic. But sometimes, even we get some urges some might call...heroic. 

So I was standing there, few feet behind the demon, I donned the Stormcaller's hat and as the events began unfolding I shouted something like: 

"What ya thinking ya big pansy, you daft scallywag won't even recognize the true Stormcaller on this ship." This demon fella looked straight at me and so I continued "Ya getting a little wet from my rain aren't ya, come and get me if you have the guts." My plan was effective, too effective perhaps, I never thought that I could muster such charisma to outwit an otherworldly fiend (now that I thing about it, twas probably the hat). The demon started charging almost before my boys were done tying the chains to his legs, spikes and whatnot, and I began dodging and running for my sorry life. As the fiend kept pursuing me I shouted at my boys," Drop the bloody anchor already!" and at that moment the demon noticed the chains tied to him. I jest you not, it was fear I saw in the monster's eyes when I heard the loud splash of the anchor hitting water. "You fell to a classic blunder mate." I say to the fiend second before he is dragged to the depths. 

The fight was nearly over after this, but I decided that my loyalty was spent for the day and dropped to the ground, playing dead. We won in the end and we finally gained some proper riches; gold, jewels, and other valuable things. I got my share of plunder and I was satisfied with the loot, but that wasn't the end to it all. You see, I don't want to brag, but after the battle I was approached by Stormcaller and The Captain himself. I was commended for my brilliance and combat prowess, and I was made officer. Said they needed someone with quick feet and quicker mind and I seemed like the right decision after almost single-handedly saving one of the most valuable officers. And as you all can see, being an officer has one very important advantage, I got to keep the Stormcaller's hat. 

Now bring me another round! My throat  is sore and I need something before I tell about the time we've found an old and forgotten dragon temple. 

Treasure! Do you lot like treasure? It would certainly seem so. And do you know who were always the best at hoarding treasure. No, not dwarves you idiots... no...stop with that bourgeoisie thing already...wha...what even are leprechauns?...It's dragons! Stop it, it's dragons. I thought you would get that, since I mentioned a dragon temple just moments earlier but, well let's just forget this ever happened and skip to the story. 

Twas maybe a year since I became officer, that we captured a smuggler vessel and were just about to throw the survivors overboard when the ship's captain told us something our pointy ears wanted to hear. He was an old dwarf and he knew seemed to know his way around the continents. He said that he knew of an island halfway between Dragosaar and Ygginnon covered in dense forests that hid an old dragon structure, maybe a temple or something, seemingly untouched since the Dragon Wars over a thousand years ago. That dwarf would guide us to this temple, if we spared him and his crew. 

I've heard stories such as this from hundreds of men about to die, they all however usually rang hollow in the end; but there was something different about this one. Maybe it was the calmness of the dwarf, or the absurd unlikelihood of such a claim, but I think it was the idea of finding a dragon hoard.

Our Captain accepted his offer, stranded the smuggler's crew on a remote island, promising the smugger that he may pick them up if he speaks truly. 

The voyage was long and burdening but the promise of dragon gold was filling us with excitement and energy, and morale was at its best. We stayed off pirating for the time being, as we wanted to delays in our venture, and landing somewhere to repair the damage might loosen a few of our crewmen's lips, which was something we really didn't want. 

As we approached our destination, Captain only remarked: "Well no wonder that no one but some filthy smugglers found the temple" and I was of the same mind. The place was an island in the midst of a giant and treacherous archipelago. Full of hidden reefs  and icebergs forming in this colder northern climate. Without the smuggler's aid, it would be a miracle to get through it, but it at least make his claims all the more plausible. When we finally landed on the island, it was decided to send a small scouting group first to check if the temple is really there, and how it looks. 

I was stupid enough to say that the most skilled and bravest should be the ones to do this task, so naturally it fell upon me to do so. I was sent with our so called experts on architecture (at least on destroying it), technology (or at least stealing it) and resourcefulness (whatever that is). Therefore I was sent with our Boom-Master and his kobold commando. 

We were a team of eight, I and a bunch of insane, suicidal, unstable bunch of pyromaniacs equipped with the latest array of volatile technology modified with gnomish designs recovered in the latest raid on the town of Gnomš. 

We made our way through the ice and snow, and thickets, and bogs, and before we knew it, the sun was setting on us. We all of course see in the dark, unfortunately, someone forgot to tell that to the ice wolves. 

They didn't even really try to hide themselves, they either relied on our lack of vision, or on their sheer numbers. It was an overwhelming amount, too much for our small group...whole three...no four winter wolves. Stop laughing you scum! Have any of you ever seen a winter wolf ? The next one of you who laughs will get a knife in the guts so tread carefully. 

Anyway, four winter wolves. Now I am no slouch with a scimitar, but fighting these beasts head on under these conditions would be suicide, and running wasn't an option either. However the Boom-Master had a little something new up in his sleeve. He quickly produced a couple of head-looking devices that he gave to each of us. Each head was modelled differently, but they had one thing in common, they each had a metal ring in their noses. He then pulled on the nose ring of his orc-looking head and green smoke started coming from its ears. It made me feel all sleepy and sick, but the Boom-Master soon threw it at the wolves and they seemed to suffer from similar effects. We all pulled on the rings as well and threw them at the beasts. Each of them started acting like they had a little bit of those miracle mushrooms if you get me, hehe. "Good stuff" says I, for once finding a kobold device functional, useful and subtle. But then came the dreaded answer: "And you haven't even seen the best part yet." and he lobbed a lit candle at the gas concentrating around the wolves, near vast bogs I might add, now I ain't no explosive expert, but I know my bogs, and I know they don't like fire. I quickly threw myself into the greatest pile of snow in the near vicinity and I barely made it before I felt the immense shockwave that shook the land around me. The Boom-Master and his merry band of kobolds landed  in various distances of the explosion, unharmed of course, for they are kobolds, they have adapted for stupid explosive stunts. 

The rest of the journey was rather uneventful as most of the wildlife seemed to abandon this island, probably assuming an as of yet unknown volcano decided to erupt.

I was in less than stellar mood from my company, as they revelled in the carnage they had caused, but that all went away when we captured a first glance of that fabled dragon temple. After the thousand years, it was overgrown with vines and roots, almost looking like it was a part of the nature on that island. But that didn't take away from the magnificence that temple held. I'm no expert on architecture, but there was no doubt here, the dwarf was right. A standing temple from the times when dragons ruled over the world, and it was here for us to plunder.

Once the existence and location of the temple were confirmed, we returned to Flotsam and relayed our findings to the captain. Overjoyed with the information, he immediately announced that a requisition party was to be sent, one that he himself would lead. That was rather unusual, as our captain didn't usually join such endeavours personally, his leadership and skill were mostly given from the rear position, but I guess that this was an operation that required personal oversight. We of the scout party were to be a part of this group, along with a dozen and a half additional muscles and the Captain himself. It was said that a bigger party would be more prone to activating the temple's presumed dormant defences, but I suspect that captain was afraid of being robbed of any magical treasures before due inspection and appraisal was done. Our journey to the temple was much smoother this time, now that the road had been laid out, and we arrived before sunset. We have quickly found the overgrown doors to the temple, and soon we found ourselves in an enormous main hall of this ancient complex. From first glance it was obvious that this had been a place of prayers and religion, as it was filled with a ridiculous amount of ornate altars, statues and statuettes made in dragon image. All these talks make me seem like I my way around this history stuff, but I'm only really paraphrasing what cap'n said, so let's end this description with the fact that we started filling our bags and pockets with anything that was of some value and wasn't too heavy to harry, and things that were too heavy to carry well blasted into valuable and mainly carriable smithereens. Captain left us to our devices in the matter of ordinary treasures, he had his sight on magic and that's what he was desperately searching for in these dark halls. It would seem however that on this upmost level of the temple, no items of such kind were to be found. This was bad news, as it could have meant that this place had already been robbed before and what remained were only scraps the old robbers were too afraid to steal in fear of the dragon's wrath. Well, that's where we had the slightest advantage, Dragons are all but a dying broken race now, and their wrath was the slightest of our worries. And since we were probably to meant to be the first to rob this temple, we would possibly be the firsts to brave the lower levels. How did we know such lower levels were there you ask? We didn't, but if someone were to have them, it would be dragons, so their non-existence never even came to our minds. The Boom-Master started coordinating the other kobolds and began remotely exploding one part of the temple hall after another. After few such detonations he happily proclaimed that about ten feet under our feet, the floor goes hollow and he believes that a hidden chamber is to be found under that layer. The pyromaniac then told us that he had already taken the liberty of calculating the explosion needed to surgically create a small hole to that area, and that he had already planted the tonnes of gunpowder kegs needed. Our captain told him to stop in his progress, that we would try to find access to that lower level in a less disruptive way, but the Boom-Master gave us that insane guilty look that meant that it was too late for that. The fuses had already been lit. A second later the whole temple was shaking, pillars toppling over, floor disappearing in a growing chasm and the room falling on our heads. The Cap'n and I tried to claw our way out, but we quickly lost the floor under our feet and began falling towards almost certain doom. The doom fortunately wasn't so certain, and wasn't so bad, because it came with a cushioned layer of running water that swiftly swept us away from harm's way. I didn't know what a river was doing, flowing through an ancient temple, but I was grateful anyway. In a few moments we were washed ashore and you wouldn't believe where the river had taken us. It was a room much like the last one, but this one looked like a proper dragon's nest. Filled with heaps of jewelleries and coins haphazardly thrown around. Items of magical nature were protruding from these heaps like reefs and our captain soon began revelling in the spoils. We started filling our water soaked bags with all this stuff, but we found something that had turned our joy into fear. Under all that gold, we had found giant scales and bones, ones still connected to something's body. It wasn't moving however and upon closer inspection we discovered, that under those piles a half eaten carcass of a dragon was hiding. A carcass that was clutching an egg to its breasts. An egg that was cracked open, empty. A dragon egg whose inhabitant was probably still lurking about. 

The dragon surely hadn't kept us waiting with his appearance. Just when we uncovered the dead body of its mother, a feral snarl could be heard from above. There clinging from one of the walls like a bat the creature was eyeing us with its bloody red eyes. It was a pale pitiful beast, the veins of the beast clearly visible on its albino body, and its stunted disfigured body hardly resembling the mighty torso of a grown dragon. Were these signs of the curse that doomed the dragon race those thousand years ago, or was it simply so malnourished and deprived of sun since its birth, that it became this thing? I don't know. But even though it was a small and beast-minded specimen I can tell you one thing; it was still a dragon and that means it was bloody dangerous. While there was hunger in its eyes, it was obvious that those eyes were not as good as they should be. Realizing that the dragon was probably as good as blind, all of us froze in our places and we started sneakily reaching for our weapons. The situation was simple, we wouldn't leave without the treasure, and the dragon wouldn't let us take it without dying. As one of our goblin crewmembers reached for her bow, she accidentally knocked over a small golden bust lying on the floor, her futile attempts at stopping the bust from falling only made the resulting sound worse. In a blink of an eye, the dragon tensed up,leapt into the air and spread its membrane-like wings. Our crewmember didn't even have time to scream before she was slashed to bits by the viscous curved talons of the creature and her body became a feast for the beast. We were stunned by this lethal display and our conviction began to falter, as no one wanted to be the next to be torn to shreds. At least the dragon was a little bit occupied with devouring the body, and we could make a little bit of sound, but what was one supposed to do in such a situation. I know that I've already told you of some truly dire inescapable situations, but there was always something one goblin like me could do, but not here. I couldn't escape, I couldn't fight because that would be suicide, and I couldn't stay and wait for the dragon to find me sooner or later. I have to admit that I was on my brink and I thought that surviving would be a miracle; and that's the only reason why I can say the following sentence without any damn regrets. Who would have thought that out of all people...we would be saved by the bloody Boom-Master. I jest you not, 'tis true I swear on my tricorne. When the dragon was preoccupied, the Boom-Master started taking something from his bottomless bag of explosives. I didn't know what the big metal phallic object the size of the kobold's body was, but knowing the Boom-Master...I could guess. What I couldn't guess however, was the reason  why that madman was strapping the thing to his back...and lit it under himself yelling "Race this you bastard!" Upon hearing the voice and the sound of the burning fuse, the dragon looked at the kobold and quickly darted towards him. A heroic sacrifice I thought, a noble deed indeed. But that notion didn't stay long, for sacrifice usually involves dying, not a crazed kobold flying, outmaneuvering and evading a dragon on a giant unstable smoking explosive device. Which is clearly what had happened. I couldn't believe my eyes, and neither would the dragon if his eyes worked. The crazed fool was cackling like a madman and was throwing one bomb after another at the dragon. They didn't injure it much, but they sure made it angry; so much so that the dragon increased its speed and was about to swallow both the rocket and the deluded fool of a kobold. To my surprise, the Boom-Master was more cunning that I gave him credit for at the time and simply cut off the straps tying him to the device, making him fall before being devoured. The dragon didn't notice any creature falling and did exactly what it was baited into. It munched on the explosive, a snack that proved itself too much even for a dragon. In a moment's time we were being showered by bits of flesh and blood coming from the beast. This is the tale of how we faced the dragon wrath and we came out of it richer and stronger. Boom-Master of course survived without a single bruise, we took everything we could find here into our magical bags, and we made our slow way back to surface and then to Flotsam. What's to take from this tale you say...well few thing: No matter the danger, we always end up richer. Never get on a kobold's bad side...and good side neither, because both are equally dangerous. But mostly, join our crew, we get things done. If some of you want to mock or doubt, let me remind you that we have fought a dragon and won. How many can say the same?

Quiet! Quiet! What's all this ruckus about. Haven't I told ye enough. All of these supreme tales from an exquisite storyteller and still you complain. What!? What are you on about, spit it out! Ohhhh....I see; you think that from a spiel about Captain Greenlump, you've heard very little about Captain Greenlump. Well I didn't want to take much from the mystery he so cherishes about his being, and after all I think that the tales of loyalty and motivation he inspires are more than enough to make a picture of this dastardly pirate. But if you insist... All right then, I will tell you of the dire events that led us to where we are now, to this very tavern, to this very recruitment.

You see, the last few months have been rough, bringing only misfortune and despair to our ranks, we were the lords of the Sea of Joy, we were getting richer and richer, but with our fortune grew our gluttony. We became too reckless, too unafraid, too pompous. We were no longer a nuisance too troublesome to eradicate, we became a thorn. A thorn that needed to be taken out, and many of the powers we had wronged decided to make our lives a living hell. Every trade ship could be a trap to catch us in, every fence a traitor to sell us for the highest bargain, every safe port a lair of our enemies. Our losses became dire, every operation a hair away from disaster. Many crewmembers died or went into hiding in these days, and our future was uncertain. 

Then came the fateful day. We returned to one of our hideouts on a small remote jungle island, unaware that its location had been discovered by our foes. We were careless and defenceless and our enemies were ready to put us to an end in one single strike. Things went bed, but they could have gone much worse if it weren't for our captain. Whilst the evening was still uneventful, captain was brooding in his rocking chair with a concerned look. He then told me and a few others to go check up on Flotsam with him, because he thought there was something wrong going on. We were told to be careful and sneaky as we traversed the jungle towards the beach, I didn't understand the need for that, until we caught the first glimpse of our ship. We were not the first to reach her. Tall humanoid figures were trespassing on our ship, obviously waiting for something. It was then that we heard a loud explosion from the direction of our hideout. 

Cap'n said that he knew this day would come and that he has prepared for it. There was a hidden cove nearby in which he had a small ship no one but him knew about, ready to set sail. "What of the others!?" I ask him, but he told me that we would only seal their fate if we joined the battle.

 According to his information, Greenlump himself was to witness the public executions of his crewmembers, one after another. So they weren't meant to be killed in this ambush. Not getting captured was a way of prolonging their life in the prison and possibly making way for their eventual rescue. "We can't save them if we die today, live to fight another day officer." says the captain to me and we make our way towards the cove. It seemed like our escape would go unnoticed, but it so happened that one of our escaping crewmates crossed our path and his pursuers were quick to follow. I tried to warn the captain, but he was nowhere to be seen when I turned towards him. He had either hid or fled to save his own skin, I thought to myself. But I had no time for thoughts, as before we knew it, I and my two comrades were encircled by eight cutlass wielding humans, gnomes and dwarves. "Well Well, Well, We've found ourselves some scared green scum, didn't we boys.' says an oaf of a human. "Time of roughen them up." I and my mates gathered ourselves back to back, ready to stab anyone who would come near us. 

The mercenaries were mockingly walking towards us when we suddenly heard a sharp swooshing sound. Then, one of the soldiers cried out in pain as something hit him in his side. "What the..." shockingly gasped another mercenary, but his question was cut short by a small carved wooden object hitting him in the face. 

The thing that incapacitated both of them was a small curved piece of wood, covered in rusty sharp nails and shards of metal that somehow went straight to gambeson, clothes, skin, and the sharp points rooted themselves deep in the flesh of its victims; leaving them paralyzed in pain or killing them altogether.  The other poor sods against us tried to find out where these attacks were coming from, but these ingenious things called boomerangs have one thing about them that can confuse the uninitiated, if skilfully thrown, they can change their course midair. In their perplexion, the remaining soldiers made one huge misstep; they forgot about us. We quickly charged at them and rapidly started stabbing their kidneys to bits. When this was done, Captain Greenlump emerged from the shadows, his mighty cutlass at the hip and these wooden weapons at his side. "I've already lost enough comrades as it is. No more! Now stop standing here you lot, we have a rescue to plan."

This loyalty to one's subjects might not seem like much to some of you, but to us goblins, such a thing would make him a paragon of bravery and virtue (and strangeness and eccentricity). It was at this moment that I had an epiphany, this was a Captain I would follow into the depths of hells.

Our escape from the clutches of Joytown law saved the lives of both us and our captured comrades, but as fate would have it, it wasn't the end of our darkest hour. 

After saving our skin, we started collecting any debts and favours to gather the necessary funds and forces to rescue our crew and ship. I was tasked with recruitment of the new members, a task I have up to this day as you can see. This meant that my work was to be done away from our ship, whilst captain was raiding the northern Dwarven coasts, as far away from Joytown as possible, whilst remaining in the lucrative waters of the Sea of Joy.

The news of my cap'n's capture by the Dwarves caught me by surprise. Apparently he got the information that a dwarven treasure ship, disguised as a simple rotten carrack, to avoid us merry pirate folk, was supposed to be making its way to the elven lands, to seal a political alliance. It was however a bait, and the ship was instead carrying adventurers hired to get rid of the pirate menace. Our cap'n was captured and taken to the dwarven port of Grimdrakh, where he was mutilated tortured and was later supposed to be given to the Joytown authorities to do with as they please. 

Upon hearing these news, I immediately embarked to Grimdrakh with utmost haste to rescue my cap'n from the rotten dwarven claws. In my outrage however, I forgot that goblins are not really welcome in dwarven lands, and by not welcome I mean not tolerated, and by not tolerated I mean killed upon sight. Fortunately for me, I also forgot that my mug was enriching the walls of many ports, with a nice hefty bounty underneath, a bounty much larger if captured alive, however certainly not as huge as cap'n's, one could build several castles for the sum they offered for him.

 At least the first phase of my rescue plan: finding my way into prison and finding our cap'n there went splendidly. I was given a nice dark cell on one of the lowest floors of the downwards underground prison spire, right across from my captain and I was commended for my brilliant attempt.

As I was sitting there, waiting for the Joytown envoy to arrive and take us to our execution, I realized that cap'n didn't seem a little tad bit worried, now I generally too prefer a positive outlook on any situation, but let's say that the gallows wasn't among the pubs I wanted to visit this week, and I surely didn't want it to be my last. 

"Cap'n, shouldn't we be planning some way out? No press, but I don't think a noose would suit my olive skin."  I said like the charming jester I am, but my cap'n's reply left me properly flabbergasted as he only said that he believes in the contrary and that we should just accept our deserved fate. I for once couldn't recognize my cunning and resourceful cap'n, not that I think that he wouldn't ever surrender, like most of our kind he knew the advantages of a tactical surrender, but this was him throwing away the life of his crew and himself, something fishy was going on here, but there was nothing I could do.

The next morning, we were brought out of our cells by an escort of Grimdrakh guards who then took us to the Joytown envoy's ship. We were to sail to that island city with a dwarven ambassador, who would be properly rewarded for collecting our bounties. The ship was filled with at least thirty Joytown soldiers and the ambassador had about eight well armoured bodyguards.  We were left chained and guarded in the cargo hold with four guards watching over us, and once we embarked upon the open seas, I lost almost all hope of escape. I know that this mindset of mine seems a recurring aspect of these tales of mine, but believe me that this happens all the time under our cap'n; inescapable situations are our daily bread. As you can obviously see we escaped from this one as well, differently however than I expected. 

You see, about an hour later, cap'n started complaining about a terrible itch and he mockingly asked our guard's whether they would mind loosening his shackles a little. 'Twas a funny little joke... until the guard produced a key from his pockets and started unchaining my cap'n, with the words "No problem boss." no less. I...needed some answers, but before I managed to find the thing that was on the tip of my tongue, but decided to jump overboard, cap'n only asked the guards: "Are the dwarves dead yet?" and he was answered with a friendly nod. "W...W...What..." I managed to stutter. Cap'n looked at me and remarked. "We are going to collect my bounties friend, all of them."

After some proper explanations, it all started making sense. The Joytown envoy was an old friend of Greenlump's, and the whole capture was a ruse orchestrated by the two. Now I get that you don't fully understand the brilliance of our cap'n plan here, not everyone is as quick witted as me, so I shall tell you how things were supposed to go. 

So, this envoy fellow of ours was supposed to bring our cap'n and his captors to Joytown where they would be very handsomely rewarded and we and all of our imprisoned crewmembers would be executed. But with some good disguises and Captain's trickery, we were about to put a very unique spin to these events. Our dwarven captors would be handed in, we would be handsomely rewarded, and no-one would be executed, since we would be long gone once our little prank became known. This wasn't the end to this plan however. You see, Joytown wasn't the place that put a bounty on our head, theirs was surely the biggest, but others wanted the satisfaction of bringing us down themselves. Not the dwarves fortunately, which was the reason why captain was raiding their waters in the last few weeks. 

Our cap'n was about to do a con of the century, he would himself collect the bounty on his head, and he would do so more than once. We knew that the word would get out eventually, but we were keen on finding out how many times we could do this; as it turned out, quite a lot. 

One would think that when offering so much money, they would be better prepared for such schemes. We even expected them to often see through our illusions and disguises, in which case we would offer our true cap'n instead, who would then use the little magical failsafe on his cutlass, that often allowed him to escape from prisons in his earlier years, or so he told me at least. But no such precautions were taken. Was our bribed envoy such a trustworthy man? Were the authorities so excited to torture our cap'n that they forgot to check if it was really him? Was our plan so genius and yet stupidly simple  that it didn't occur to them someone might just do it? Are the sophisticated races so trustworthy and gullible? I do not know the answer to that. Oh, and by the way I know that some of you might consider yourselves members of the sophisticated races, and you think that I somehow am trying to insult you. That is not my intention, all of you who listen to me and think of joining us I consider honourable members of the monstrous folk as we are called, and I don't care about you others, you can go knitting and carousing and drinking wine, and whatever your kind does. 

But anyway, we managed to collect bounties from Joytown and all the other Free Cities of the sea of Joy. three kingdoms of the Sun Empire also fell victim to our brilliance, The high elves of Weastaria were our last attempt, but their system was far more thought out than the others and we barely escaped unscathed. After that, we stopped doing it and we decided that we needed some proper force to defend ourselves before word of our cap'n return got out. With all the money we stole, we started amassing the biggest pirate force to have ever sail this sea. Everyone was welcome in our crew, sophisticated or otherwise: As we speak now, we have a small fleet of ships manned with goblins, kobolds, trolls, gnolls, orcs, minotaurs, and more...  

And that's how the story goes so far, but not how it ends. This is why I am here in this very tavern at this very moment with this very purpose: We are going to be the first force to successfully raid Joytown, we are going to attack that wretched island, we are going to rescue my old crew, we are going to get our capital ship "The Flotsam" back from their greedy hands, and after that, we shall be the most feared pirates to ever sail these seas. 

I'm not offering you just a place in our crew, I am offering you to become history, our names shall be feared for the centuries to come, emperors and kings shall cower before us, and we will become legends. So feel free to stay here in this dusty old tavern and drink your ale, but those of you who wish to be remembered, who wish to have all the gold and treasure you want, those of you who wish to see the wonders of this world, only to pillage them to their last coin. Those of you who wish to be free...join us. Join us, and fight under the flag...of Captain Greenlump.