A glimpse of Grumkin

The history of Grumkin begins before he was even born, deep within the enchanted treetops of the Miden'nir wood. His parents were members of a small band of gnomes that had branched outside of their infamous city to find new places to expand. They were searching for a place that was less frequented by outside forces and thus held less disturbances and visibility. Little did they know what dwelled around their newly found home... Anyhow, I digress. Back to Grumkin. From his birth he was mischievous, even more-so than the average gnome should be. He would often push other children down and point the finger at another innocent bystander, and with how clever and subtle he was, he would often get away with it. His parents started to pick up on these devious tricks and his unprovoked, ill-tempered attitude towards his peers, but they couldn't place their finger on the cause. It wasn't until the young gnomelings were forced into a magical apprenticeship that they became aware of Grumkin's true dark side. At first it seemed as if he was almost handicap when it came to the natural influence of gnomish magic, but even what he did learn he used to steal money or other small collectibles that he really had no use for. It was decided that Grumkin shouldn't advance any further, and quite honestly probably couldn't, so he was forced to train with wooden weapons, alone, away from everyone and everything. He was odd, and everyone knew it, even Grumkin did. It was sad really, and it led Grumkin to believe he was truly alone in the world. He ended up developing a fear of everything; every squeak, every whistle of the wind, and every chirp of a bird, which all manifested itself into an uncontrollable stutter. A few years passed by and Grumkin grew older and unfortunately greener, which made him become more of an outsider to his own kind. His tribe still accepted him as he were, but no one grew close to him because of his unpredictability and undirected deviousness and, well, the obvious fact he wasn't really one of thenm. "I'm simply ma-ma-MISUNDERSTOOD", he would think, but inside he knew he was different - no..darker, than the rest of the other gnomes. One evening Grumking went on a casual training trip - alone of course - into the deeper, darker parts of Miden'nir. As the sun settled and the forest darkened, the sound of snickering and high-pitched laughter echoed around him. Terrified, Grumkin dove under a bush, quickly trying to seize the chattering of his teeth. It wasn't until a moment later that the bush was pulled completely out of the ground, Grumkin intact. A large, fat goblin with a rusted crown shook the bush vigorously until Grumkin fell out. Completely stunned from panic and fear, the goblin boomed a hearty laugh and said "My son, we've been waiting for you." Grumkin was beyond puzzled and squeaked out a dumbfounded "Wh-wh-whuht?" The forest range with cackling goblins and squeals of delight but were quickly hushed by the rising of a single finger from the Goblin King. He spoke. "We have freed you from those vermin, you see?" Now you will show the world what we goblins can really do, yes yes!" Thus Grumkin the gnome, excuse me, the Goblin Prince, was reborn and unleashed upon the unsuspecting world with a new, more chaotic perspective.

The Tenacious Talisman

As Grumkin stepped out into the large world, he was met with animosity and hatred. Not quite a pure-bred of goblin, he was in a suspended state of transition between his natural heritage of a gnome and that of his newly adopted species. He was confused, lost, and most importantly, afraid. He found a large city to the north of the forest, and from there he would only travel dark streets, often cowering and whimpering at any traveler that even looked in his direction. Over time, he branched out further from the city and found himself in a familiar forest with trees that had been cut back and somewhat dwarfed compared to their natural form. It was on his travels that Grumkin learned how to use small shards of sharp metal and glass to defend himself with, as his personal training had taught him to do just that. Later one evening, Grumkin wandered aimlessly about a ruined city. On discovering the setting sun, he knew it was time to cower in a corner somewhere. It was in his desperate search that he found a fanatic priest ranting about the streets in a courageous attempt to spread the word of his God. About this priest stood many of people, and Grumkin grew curious so he maneuvered through the crowd to witness this priests physical form up close. Once Grumkins eyes met the priest, he was not drawn to his words or his physics, but to a beautiful red talisman that swayed about his neck. Grumkin was awestruck. Amazed. Possessed. He had to have it, and he did. When the priest retired to his home, Grumkin snuck into his shelter and stabbed the priest to death with a tiny shard of glass. Grumkin knew something in him had changed, for he had never felt the urge to kill. It was more often than not that the thought repulsed him, but this talisman.. It called to him, and once he laid eyes on it he knew he could not live without it. As time grew on, and Grumkin grew more attached to this talisman, he felt darker, cold, chaotic, yet fearless and strong. He couldn't explain how he felt, but he knew he liked not being afraid, and more importantly he liked feeling powerful, and that was all that he needed to know to protect the talisman at all cost.