I sit on the newly constructed observation platform atop the tallest cypress in our territory, marveling at the sheer scale of what we've built. From this height, I can see almost our entire domain, and it's growing larger by the day. What was once a modest settlement in a small corner of the swamp has exploded outward in all directions, claiming territory that would have taken years to occupy through conventional means.
Morkath's transformation has accelerated this expansion beyond anything I could have imagined. His connection to the swamp's consciousness allows him to extend our influence throughout the wetlands with unprecedented speed. Areas that were once impassable or hostile now welcome our forces, plants shifting to create natural walkways, waters clearing to reveal safe passages, even the insects and wildlife adjusting their behaviors to accommodate our presence.
"Impressive view," Nerk comments, climbing up to join me. His evolved form moves with effortless precision, even in this precarious perch.
"It's incredible," I agree. "When I first bonded with you, I could barely manage a couple dozen goblins. Now look at us."
Below us stretches a vast network of interconnected settlements. The central hub where my house stands has tripled in size, with specialized districts for different activities. The agricultural zone pulses with vibrant green life, swamp rice paddies stretching in precise geometric patterns that maximize yield. The training grounds buzz with activity as evolved hobgoblins drill in perfect formation. The crafting district rings with the sound of hammers on metal as newly constructed forges process ore from our expanded mining operations.
"Territorial expansion proceeds efficiently," Nerk notes with satisfaction. "Swamp now fully occupied. Neighboring territories peaceful. Resource extraction increasing exponentially."
"How are the new recruits coming along?" I ask, thinking about his thousand-captain system and the evolutionary barrier he's working to overcome.
"Goblin influx exceeds projections," he replies, genuine excitement breaking through his usually reserved demeanor. "Word spreads quickly after victory against Keenan's forces. Goblins journey from territories as far as western mountains, northern forests. Current count: eight thousand two hundred and seventeen. Approaching critical threshold for command structure transformation."
That's incredible progress. When we first discussed his evolutionary breakthrough requirements, the idea of gathering ten thousand goblins under organized leadership seemed almost impossible. Now we're more than eighty percent of the way there, and the influx shows no signs of slowing.
"How soon until you reach the full ten thousand?"
"Approximately two weeks at current arrival rate," Nerk calculates. "Possibly sooner if recent eastern migration patterns continue. Border scouts report large goblin clan moving this direction from Dawnhaven territories."
Dawnhaven. That's the kingdom to our east, the one whose forces were at the deepvault mine when we fought the Obsidian Enclave for that fragment. I don't think we directly engaged with them, though. From what I remember, they were already in bad shape when we arrived, caught between the Enclave and those beast tribes.
As if reading my thoughts, Nerk adds, "Scouts also report increased activity at Dawnhaven border posts. Formal procession observed departing capital city three days ago, moving in our direction. Likely diplomatic envoy."
"Diplomatic envoy?" That's unexpected. "They weren't exactly friendly during the fragment hunt."
"Military defeat often precedes diplomatic overtures," Nerk observes dryly. "Especially when alternative is facing Monster Lord's army directly."
He's got a point. Our reputation has spread rapidly since the battle at Northcrest. The Confederation's merchants have been surprisingly effective at distributing tales of our victory, each retelling more exaggerated than the last.
"We should head back," I decide. "If there's an envoy coming, we should be prepared to receive them."
As we descend from the observation platform, I continue to marvel at the changes wrought by our newfound wealth and resources. The gold has transformed our capabilities in ways I hadn't fully anticipated when I reluctantly distributed it.
Gorthal's blood rituals, enhanced by the rare components purchased with his four thousand gold, have created a new generation of metallic orcs whose capabilities far exceed their predecessors. Their skin patterns are more refined, more responsive to the blood energy that flows through them. In combat drills, they demonstrate regenerative abilities that allow them to recover from wounds that would have been permanently debilitating before.
Morrigan's preparations for her journey to the primal storm are less visibly dramatic but no less significant. The seven thousand gold allocated to her has secured ancient texts filled with storm magic formulas, crystalline focusing implements crafted by master artisans, and specialized protective gear designed to withstand raw elemental energy. Though her journey still lies ahead, the knowledge she's already extracted from these resources has enhanced her weather manipulation abilities noticeably. The storms she now conjures for agricultural purposes are more precisely controlled, more efficient in their distribution of rain and nutrients.
Even Morkath, who received his three thousand gold allocation after completing his transformation, has put the resources to good use. The gold purchased specialized cultivation components that accelerate the growth of what he calls "rootways," living conduits that connect distant parts of our territory through underground networks. These rootways allow instantaneous communication between our settlements and serve as rapid transport routes for our forces.
As we reach ground level, I'm greeted by the sight of our latest infrastructure project: an actual stone road being constructed through the heart of the swamp. Not raised wooden walkways like we used before, but a proper engineered thoroughfare with drainage systems and reinforced foundations. Skilled stonemasons recruited from neighboring territories work alongside evolved trolls, the humans clearly nervous but unable to resist the generous pay offered.
"Monster Lord," a hobgoblin messenger approaches and salutes crisply. "Gorthal requests your presence at eastern training grounds. Blood warriors completed new evolution sequence. Demonstration prepared."
"Tell him I'll be there shortly," I reply, watching as the messenger dashes off with impressive speed.
Nerk nods his farewell. "Must return to thousand captain implementation. Final organizational structure requires precise arrangement."
As he departs, I take a moment to absorb the constant activity around me. The Monster Lord's territory has become a hive of productivity, with resources flowing in and developments emerging at a pace that would be impossible in a conventional human kingdom. The combined effect of abundant gold, evolved monster capabilities, and our unique bond network has created something unprecedented.
And I'm at the center of it all. Just a regular guy who stumbled into this world and somehow ended up with an army of monsters calling me lord.
Sometimes I still can't believe any of this is real.
---
Envoy Harland Deveraux
I adjust my ceremonial sword for the tenth time since our procession entered the swamplands. It's purely decorative, of course, an elegant accessory to my formal diplomatic attire rather than a practical weapon. Which is for the best, as I'd have little use for actual armaments in the presence of creatures that reportedly shrugged off Keenan's elite heavy cavalry as if they were children with sticks.
"Are we nearly there, Envoy Deveraux?" asks Lady Amelia, King Arlen's cousin and official representative. Her voice betrays a hint of the nervousness she's been carefully concealing since we set out from the capital.
"I believe so, my lady," I reply, maintaining the composed demeanor expected of Dawnhaven's First Diplomatic Envoy. "Our guides indicated the Monster Lord's central settlement lies just beyond this next stretch of marshland."
Truth be told, I'm as apprehensive as she is, though decades of diplomatic service have taught me to mask such feelings beneath layers of formal courtesy. The reports from our intelligence services concerning this "Monster Lord" and his evolved forces are disturbing to say the least.
Our procession continues along what surprisingly appears to be a proper road cutting through the swamp. Not the crude wooden pathways I expected, but an engineered thoroughfare with stone foundations and drainage systems that wouldn't look out of place in Dawnhaven's wealthy districts. The construction is recent, the stonework fresh, yet the quality is undeniable.
The economic implications alone are staggering. Such infrastructure requires significant resources, skilled labor, and organizational capabilities far beyond what any monster confederation should possess. The Monster Lord isn't just building an army; he's establishing a functioning society.
"Look there," our chief scout calls, pointing ahead. "Those must be the border sentries."
Indeed, arrayed along the road ahead stand a dozen figures that immediately challenge my assumptions about monsters. These aren't the hunched, disorganized creatures depicted in kingdom illustrations. These hobgoblins stand with military bearing, armor gleaming in the filtered sunlight, weapons held with professional discipline. They form a perfect honor guard formation, centering on a larger figure whose evolved form marks him as a commander of some sort.
As our procession approaches, the hobgoblin commander steps forward with a crisp precision that would impress the king's own royal guard.
"Dawnhaven envoy," he greets me in surprisingly articulate Common. "Your arrival anticipated. Monster Lord prepared to receive diplomatic mission. Will escort to central settlement."
Lady Amelia grips the edge of her saddle tightly, her knuckles whitening. I can hardly blame her. Being addressed directly by a monster who shows no signs of the bestial nature we've been taught to expect is deeply unsettling.
"We are honored by the Monster Lord's hospitality," I reply with a formal bow. "The Kingdom of Dawnhaven seeks peaceful dialogue."
The commander nods, then signals his troops, who immediately reconfigure into escort formation around our procession. Their movements are fluid, coordinated, executed with a synchronization that speaks of extensive training and deep discipline.
As we follow our monstrous escorts deeper into the swamp territory, the landscape transforms dramatically. What began as wild marshland transitions into carefully managed wetlands. Cultivated fields of some unfamiliar crop stretch in precisely organized patterns. Work crews of smaller goblins harvest resources under the supervision of evolved hobgoblins. In the distance, I spot what appears to be a mining operation, with ore being transported along raised platforms toward what must be a processing facility.
"This is... not what I expected," Lady Amelia whispers, echoing my own thoughts.
"Indeed," I murmur back. "It appears the intelligence reports were, if anything, understating the Monster Lord's organizational capabilities."
Our path eventually brings us to what must be the central settlement, and again, my expectations are challenged. This is no crude monster encampment but a developing community with permanent structures, specialized districts, and clear urban planning. At its center stands a large building that could only be described as a proper hall, constructed with impressive architectural skill from living wood somehow coaxed into specific forms.
The hobgoblin commander leads us to a designated receiving area where we're instructed to wait while our arrival is announced. As our horses are led away to suitable stabling, I take the opportunity to observe more closely.
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There are humans here. Not captives or slaves, but specialists working alongside the monstrous inhabitants. Stonemasons directing construction projects. Alchemists examining samples of local materials. Even what appears to be a scholar taking detailed notes about everything she observes.
Before I can process these surprising sights, the hall's doors open, and a group emerges to greet us. At their center walks a figure who, despite lacking any ostentatious regalia, can only be the Monster Lord himself.
He appears remarkably ordinary, a man of average height and unremarkable features, distinguished primarily by strange glowing patterns visible on his exposed skin and a crystal pendant hanging at his chest. It's the beings accompanying him that truly capture attention. A massive orc whose metallic skin bears intricate patterns that pulse with inner light. A transformed hagraven whose evolved form radiates magical energy that I can physically sense even at this distance. An entity that defies easy classification, part troll and part plant, towering over the others with a body composed of living wood and flowing vegetation.
"Welcome to our territory," the Monster Lord greets us with surprising informality. "I'm John. I understand you've come from Dawnhaven."
His introduction is direct but appropriate, neither overly grandiose nor too casual. He carries himself with the bearing of someone who has grown accustomed to leadership, though occasional subtle glances toward his hagraven lieutenant suggest he still relies on guidance in diplomatic matters.
"Monster Lord," I begin with a deep formal bow, "I am Harland Deveraux, First Diplomatic Envoy of the Kingdom of Dawnhaven. May I present Lady Amelia Northcrest, cousin to His Royal Majesty King Arlen, who comes as his personal representative."
Lady Amelia curtsies with perfect court precision despite her obvious nervousness. "The King sends his warmest regards, Monster Lord, and his sincere desire for peaceful relations between our realms."
The Monster Lord inclines his head in acknowledgment. "Your king's regard is appreciated. Please, let us continue our discussion inside where we can speak more comfortably."
As we follow him into the impressive structure, I maintain my diplomatic composure while my mind races with assessment. This is not at all what we were led to expect. The Monster Lord carries himself with more restraint and dignity than reports suggested, yet there's something refreshingly straightforward about his manner. He lacks the excessive pomp of most rulers, yet clearly commands the absolute respect of his inhuman lieutenants.
Most significantly for my mission, he shows no obvious hostility toward Dawnhaven despite our previous conflict at the deepvault mines. Though I'm not certain he even remembers that encounter, our forces were so thoroughly devastated by the Obsidian Enclave before his arrival that direct engagement was minimal. This bodes well for the king's gambit, though I remain cautious in my optimism.
The interior of the hall proves as impressive as its exterior, with living wood forming elegant arches overhead and surprisingly sophisticated furnishings arranged in functional meeting areas. We're led to a central table where refreshments await, the presentation suggesting whoever prepared them is familiar with human diplomatic customs.
"So," the Monster Lord says once we're seated, "what brings Dawnhaven to our doorstep? I don't think we've had much direct contact before."
"His Majesty King Arlen wishes to express his sincere regret regarding recent events at the deepvault mines," I begin carefully. "The unfortunate encounter between our forces was never his intention."
An obvious diplomatic fiction, but a necessary one to begin healing relations. The Monster Lord's expression suggests slight confusion rather than offense.
"I'm not sure we actually fought your guys at the mines," he says. "When we arrived, the Obsidian Enclave was already fighting some human army. I think ours was the fourth group to show up."
His honest assessment catches me off guard. Most rulers would eagerly accept the apology regardless of its accuracy, establishing a moral advantage in negotiations.
"You are correct," I acknowledge. "Our forces were indeed engaged with the beast tribes and the Obsidian Enclave when your army arrived. The battle was... not going well for Dawnhaven's troops."
Lady Amelia steps in with practiced grace. "Which makes the King all the more eager to establish proper relations. He recognizes that our kingdoms have mutual interests in regional stability, particularly regarding threats from the Underrealm."
The Monster Lord nods thoughtfully. "So what exactly did the king have in mind?"
"His Majesty wishes to invite you to Dawnhaven's capital as his honored guest," I explain. "He would host you for a formal banquet at the royal palace, a gesture of goodwill and an opportunity to establish proper diplomatic relations between our realms. The invitation extends to your key lieutenants as well, of course."
"Interesting timing," the Monster Lord observes, glancing at his hagraven lieutenant. "Right after we demonstrated what our army can do against Keenan's forces."
The hagraven's expression remains carefully neutral, but I sense she shares her leader's skepticism. The metallic orc's patterns pulse slightly faster, while the plant troll entity remains unnervingly still, though I notice subtle movements among the vegetation comprising his form.
"The King has indeed been impressed by reports of your military capabilities," I acknowledge, seeing no benefit in denying the obvious. "All the more reason to ensure peaceful understanding between our territories."
What I cannot say, what the king explicitly instructed me to conceal, is the desperate position in which Dawnhaven now finds itself. The kingdom fractures from within, noble houses building private armies, tax revenues declining as regional lords withhold their obligations, common folk increasingly restless under the burden of supporting a crown that seems unable to maintain order.
The fragment at the deepvault mines was to be King Arlen's salvation, a source of power that might restore royal authority. Its loss, combined with the humiliating defeat of Commander Voss's forces, has further weakened the crown's position. Now, with rebellion brewing in three provinces and the treasury nearly empty, the king gambles on alliance with the Monster Lord as his last, desperate option.
If this emergent power can be brought into alignment with royal interests, the balance might yet shift in the king's favor. The mere threat of monster forces loyal to the crown could force rebellious nobles to reconsider their positions.
"When would this banquet take place?" John asks, breaking my reverie.
"In two weeks' time, if that suits your schedule," I reply smoothly. "Sufficient time to prepare a reception worthy of your station, while not delaying the establishment of formal relations."
John looks to his lieutenants, silently consulting them. The hagraven speaks first, her voice carrying undertones that send an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"The timing aligns acceptably with our current projects," she observes.
The metallic orc, Gorthal if I understood correctly, simply nods his agreement, the patterns on his skin shifting subtly.
"Seems like we could make it work," John concludes. "But I'd like to know more about what exactly this visit would entail. Schedule, expectations, that sort of thing."
I launch into a detailed explanation of the proposed itinerary, somewhat relieved to be on familiar diplomatic ground. Three days in the capital, including the formal banquet, meetings with key ministers, a public procession to demonstrate the new alliance to the citizenry, and so forth. Throughout my presentation, I note how John seems more concerned with practical logistics than the ceremonial honors being offered, another departure from typical rulers who fixate on matters of precedence and status.
When I've concluded, John considers for a moment before responding. "Alright, we'll accept the king's invitation. I'd like to bring four of my lieutenants. And we'll need suitable accommodations for their specific needs."
"Of course," I agree readily, mentally calculating the diplomatic and practical implications. "The palace has extensive guest quarters that can be adapted to your lieutenants' requirements. If you could provide details of any special considerations, I'll ensure everything is prepared appropriately."
"Morrigan can work with you on that," John says, nodding toward the hagraven. "She handles most of our diplomatic arrangements."
Lady Amelia, who has remained admirably composed despite the unsettling presence of the evolved monsters, speaks up. "The King will be delighted by your acceptance. He truly wishes to establish positive relations between our realms."
Though her words follow the diplomatic script perfectly, I wonder if John detects the subtle tension in her voice. There's more at stake here than she can acknowledge, the future of the kingdom potentially hanging on this alliance.
"We look forward to it," John replies with surprising sincerity. "Always better to make friends than enemies, right?"
As the meeting concludes and arrangements are made for our overnight accommodation before returning to the capital, I find myself reevaluating everything I thought I knew about this Monster Lord. He lacks the calculating ambition of a traditional conqueror, yet has built more in months than most rulers achieve in decades. He seems genuinely uninterested in the trappings of power, yet commands forces that could potentially challenge any kingdom on the continent.
Most concerningly for our purposes, he appears to be neither easily manipulated nor driven by the usual incentives that motivate rulers. The king's plan to essentially use the Monster Lord's forces as leverage against rebellious nobles suddenly seems far more complicated than His Majesty anticipated.
As we're escorted to our guest quarters, Lady Amelia whispers, "Will it work, Envoy? Will he serve the king's purposes?"
"I believe he will attend the banquet as invited," I reply carefully. "As for the rest... that remains to be seen."
The truth I cannot share, even with her, is my growing certainty that the Monster Lord is not someone who can be easily used as a pawn in Dawnhaven's internal struggles. King Arlen has invited a power beyond his comprehension into the heart of his troubled kingdom.
I can only hope we haven't made a terrible mistake.
---
John
I watch as our unexpected guests are escorted to the quarters we've hastily prepared for diplomatic visitors. The Dawnhaven envoy put on a good show, all formal bows and flowery diplomatic language, but something felt off about the whole thing.
"They're hiding something," I say to Morrigan once we're alone in the council chamber.
"Undoubtedly," she agrees. "Their invitation comes too conveniently after our military demonstration against Keenan's forces. And the envoy's careful phrasing suggested rehearsed deception rather than genuine reconciliation."
"Yeah, I'm not sure I even remember fighting their soldiers at those mines," I say, scratching my head. "It was all kind of a blur with the Obsidian Enclave and those beast tribes."
Morrigan's expression remains thoughtful. "Nevertheless, the invitation presents strategic opportunities. Visiting Dawnhaven's capital would provide valuable intelligence about a neighboring power. Establishing formal diplomatic relations, even if their motives are suspect, creates potential for mutually beneficial exchanges."
She's not wrong. For all my suspicions about the king's sudden interest in friendship, there are advantages to accepting the invitation. Learning more about Dawnhaven's capabilities and internal dynamics could prove useful if they ever become hostile. And having formal recognition from an established kingdom would further legitimize our growing territory.
"What do you think, Gorthal?" I ask, turning to the Blood Sage.
His metallic patterns pulse thoughtfully before he responds. "Opportunity to demonstrate strength directly to human kingdom. Blood warriors already proven against Keenan's forces. Showing evolved capabilities in peaceful context still projects power. Different message, same effect."
"And you, Morkath?"
The transformed troll shifts slightly, plant life rustling with the movement. "Can maintain territorial awareness through rootway network regardless of physical location. Dawnhaven contains multiple wetlands connected to broader continental water table. Would provide new observation points, expand sphere of influence."
Both good points. I hadn't considered how Morkath's new abilities might extend our intelligence gathering capabilities during a visit to Dawnhaven.
"Crystallis?" I ask, turning to my fifth lieutenant, who rests in a corner of the chamber specially adapted to accommodate her massive form.
She emits a harmonic tone that translates through our bond as a mix of concepts. Curiosity about territories beyond our domain. Strategic advantage in aerial reconnaissance opportunities. Pride in showing evolved strength to humans who haven't yet seen her.
"So you all think we should go," I summarize, somewhat surprised by their unanimous opinion.
"With appropriate security preparations," Morrigan qualifies. "And contingency measures for unexpected developments."
"Obviously," I agree. "We'll need Nerk's input too, once he's finished with today's thousand captain implementation."
As if summoned by his name, Nerk enters the council chamber, his tactical mind immediately assessing the situation.
"Diplomatic meeting concluded successfully," he observes, noting our expressions. "Dawnhaven invitation accepted?"
"Tentatively," I confirm. "We wanted your assessment before finalizing anything."
Nerk considers for a moment. "Tactical opportunity to observe potential adversary's defensive capabilities, command structure, resource allocation. Information valuable regardless of their true motives."
"That seems to be the consensus," I nod. "But what about your thousand captain system? You're getting close to the threshold, right? Would leaving delay your evolutionary breakthrough?"
"Implementation continues on schedule," Nerk assures me. "Nine thousand two hundred goblins now integrated into command structure. Will reach required ten thousand before Dawnhaven visit. Still need five more goblin kings as thousand goblin captains before evolution can proceed."
Well, that settles it. "Alright then. We accept Dawnhaven's invitation and prepare accordingly. Morrigan, work with the envoy on accommodation requirements. Gorthal, select an appropriate honor guard of blood warriors. Nerk, develop security protocols for the visit. Morkath, you will stay behind to manage our territory. Crystallis, prepare for aerial reconnaissance once we approach Dawnhaven's territory."
My lieutenants acknowledge their assignments with efficiency born of practice. In just a few months, we've evolved from a ragtag band of monsters into something resembling an actual governing body, making strategic decisions and implementing coordinated plans.
As the meeting breaks up, I find myself both anticipating and dreading this royal banquet. On one hand, it's a significant diplomatic milestone for our territory. On the other hand, I have a sneaking suspicion I'll need to figure out which fork to use for which course, and that's definitely not covered in the "mysterious guy suddenly becomes monster lord" instruction manual.
Still, appearances matter in diplomacy, and if we're going to be recognized as a legitimate power, I need to play the part. Even if that means trading my comfortable swamp clothes for whatever passes as formal attire for a Monster Lord visiting a royal court.
