A cacophony of grunts, cackles, whines, and howls echoed through the massive ruined underground cathedral. The Sacred Monolith rose from the center of the dirty marble floor and hummed with magical energy, an emerald edifice that defiantly stood between two emerald boulders unphased by the passing of time. It's surface had become slick with the condensed heat that dominated the cavern. It glowed brightly enough of pale green light that it illuminated all the sin ongoing in its sanctum. The Congress of the Emerald Horde had begun. Dozens of tents, colored and decorated with the emblems and trappings of their respective Camp's homeland, were pitched in the ruins of the unholy place. It was a time for one of the most feared collectives of monsters on the western continent of Barthica to gather and share the tales -and fruits- of their exploits. Above the myriad sounds of hundreds of beasts were the rolling waves of their harems moaning in pleasure echoing off the cracked stained glass images of long dead unholy warriors. The Emerald Horde was no mere collection of beasts. They were monsters gathered in purpose: to fulfill the will of the Sacred Monolith and gain a harem of human girls.
Among the steaming, sweating beasts carousing, supplicating, and rutting was a small one-eyed goblin: Nutten Sak. He clutched at his shoulder, a fresh brand in the image of the Sacred Monolith still ached, the memory of the burning pain and sacred incantation would be with the youngling forever. The new member of the Emerald Horde searched vainly for his brother. Every turn lead him into a new manner of beast or maiden. He had been pushed over, knocked aside, and drenched in the ambient fluids that seemed to hang heavy in air. Just as the small green creature began to gnash his sharpened teeth in frustration he saw his elder brother Ballem Sak waving to him from the wooden scaffolding that ascended along the marble wall to the height of the ceiling. The slightly larger goblin waved to his younger sibling to join him.
The little green wretch darted between the legs of several monsters. Only on one occasion running face first into one of their impressive endowments to the laughter of all witnesses. He crossed past a circle of particularly infamous monsters all gathered around the Sacred Monument. Nutten recognized one of the circle's members, then another, and another. They were the leaders of all the various Camps that had gathered, the Speakers of the Emerald Horde.
From the circle of Speakers the first to step forward was a handsome centaur with chiseled features. His wavy brown hair fell upon bare muscular brown shoulders, one of which branded with the image of the Sacred Monolith he stood before. Upon his stallion back were three beautiful dark skinned human women, clothed in only simple leathers and naked adoration for their master. "Representing the Camp of Beastfolk I, Rizog Windrunner, offer my voice to you, oh Sacred Monument, in regaling the tale of one of our own who so embodied your teachings that we deemed them worthy of placement upon the roof of your cathedral as an Icon. Please accept this offering of profanity in your name and bless us for another birth and death!"
The elder goblin brother heard this from up high on the platform and looked up at the ceiling to try to guess the Icon he would be picking. To have your image on upon the Conquered Horizon, the massive crude fresco that framed the Scared Monolith, was the greatest honor a member of the Emerald Horde could achieve. Even having a member of your Camp adorn the massive cluttered mural was a source of honor.
Nutten Sak crawled up the crudely reinforced scaffolding to share his brother's top down view of the event. "I hate this guy." Ballem said casually, "His harem is hot though."
"The girls on his back?" the younger one answered as he hoisted himself up to sit next to his goblin kin, "Eh, they're ok. You can see the whole Sacred Monolith from up here! It's beautiful."
The elder brother laughed at what he saw as the naivety of new blood to the Horde. "I guess so."
Far beneath them, the centaur Speaker gestured to the Sacred Monolith with a reverence one would expect to see from the head of a clergy in the presence the Gods not from a monster in front of a glowing rock. "For seeing our shared dream come true, our great dream of a harem for every monster, a harem of beautiful women! I offer you boundless gratitude! I offer you all my dedication! I offer you the name and deeds of Vacaras, son of Garlan!"
---
Vacaras, son of Garlan lived a cruel life even for a minotaur. Born on this continent of Barthica he was raised in the western lands of that recently became known as the Axiom Unity in the Great War with the Elysian Chorus. Vacaras spent his youth grazing the vast golden fields and sleeping in mountain lairs with little care nor fear. Perhaps once a week the most eventful thing that would happen is that the mighty minotaur needed to flee to a certain field to escape the eyes of a passing herdsmen. But even such occurrences were rare in the Axiom highlands. Vacaras lived a simple quiet life. This of course changed once the Great War began. Lands needed to be cleared, bodies needed to be trained, beasts needed to be saddled and all to settle a debate among the humans! Vacaras would not be isolated from these injustices either.
One day a woman approached our kin in the field. She was dressed in white robes over pink wool. Her head was concealed from the sun by a vast white brimmed hat. She twirled a grey staff in her hand. On her hip was a thick black tome. Vacaras had not noticed her approach and yet here she was mere feet away from him. How she could have appeared so suddenly shocked and baffled our kin. They locked eyes. Vacaras saw she was a mature, voluptuous figure with piercing eyes behind small pink rimmed glasses. The woman whispered some words in a language our field grazer did not know and lightly struck the earth with her staff. Chains made of white light erupted from the earth around Vacaras and swept around his mighty torso and bulging biceps. Though he tried to fight his restraints with his incredible strength they were unbreakable.
Our kinfolk's peaceful life was stripped away by none other than an adventurer.
---
A roar of jeers and insults rose at the mention of an adventurer. "Fucking sword-swinging-chaotic-good-being-murder-hobos, the lot of them!" Ballem roared.
Nutten echoed his brother's sentiment: "Damn the spellbook-copying-corpse-looting-home-invading thieves!" There were few things and ubiquitously hated among monster kind as the adventurer.
---
Vacaras, son of Garlan, was dragged away from his peaceful life in the highlands. He would be a slave to this adventuress for five years. He would learn her name was Wik and she was an highly proficient wizard. He would be forced learn how to kill. He would be sent to faraway battlefields with the wizard. He would be a part of the Axiom Army's war for reasons he would never care to learn. He would be experimented on by his cruel captor. He would never be treated as her equal. And through it all, he would change.
One night many years later Vacaras stood among a littered array of Elysian cultists. His eyes were a deep red with rage. A town was burning around him. In his hands was a dripping greataxe larger than any human man could hope to wield. He puffed angry fumes through his nostrils. Thick sharpened horns adorned his head that had been engraved with magic scripts without his consent. His fur, long since bleached pure white from repeated exposure to the callous wards cast by his captor, was spattered with dark red blood. It had even seeped into the bottom of his low hanging loincloth. He looked out and saw Wik was nowhere to be found. Had she been killed? Vacaras did not know but he had learned to repress such hopeful thinking. She had survived worse. And yet what if she was far enough way? Distracted? It was in this moment that Vacaras would make a choice. Not a new one, not one he had never made before, but one that still took every fiber of his cold survivalist courage to make.
Vacaras ran from the burning town. He heard nobody pursue him. He sprinted nonetheless. Wik had access to magic that would make detecting her impossible even to other wizards. But the stark white minotaur ran in the cold night, illuminated by the burning town at his back. He ran until the sun came up and when he finally stopped and turned she was not there, she was nowhere to be found. An uneasy sigh of relief left his nostrils. He looked down at the broken shackles around his wrists, undoubtedly they had tracking magic in them. He needed help desperately. Fortunately for him, it was at that moment we he and myself met. I, Rizog Windrunner, found him in a clearing, his snow white fur out of place in the mud and trees.
The minotaur would take the oath before the Sacred Monolith and receive the brand of your image that we all share. He would emerge a proud member of the Emerald Horde. When he prepared to leave our Camp the next day I asked him where he was going. "I can sense mages." He would say in a low voice while gazing off into the sunrising horizon. "Another 'gift' from my old master. They are who will make my harem, Speaker. Witches sought to tame me and they failed. It will be my sole purpose to tame the witches in turn." As he said this his dedication caused his brand to glow its unholy green light. I could only let him go.
---
"Look at him. Inserting himself in the story like that. What'd I tell you the guy's an asshole." Ballem said to a hasty shush. His younger brother gave him a light shove in the arm that bore his own sacred brand.
The two were silent for a moment only for the younger one to interrupt quietly again. "Hey brother. Do you think the brands read our thoughts and feelings? Do you think the Sacred Monolith knows what we know?"
"I don't know." The larger goblin replied paying little attention to his younger brother's question. "It might just be a big glowing rock. No thoughts or feelings of its own."
"No way." Nutten pondered. Something in him knew this to be wrong. Something he couldn't pin down but something he could not deny. Quietly he continued, "Even if it doesn't have thoughts it does have a hunger."
