Rukk Gougesnik was a goblin. Not an ordinary goblin, mind you. He was a warboss - an orcish-goblinish term for "warlord" - to his clan. His clan was known as the Ruff Ridas tribe, and their greatest talent was their ability to tame giant wolves and ride them like one would ride a warhorse. Many other goblin tribes not unlike his own practiced this, but his tribe practically lived off of this ideal to the point that every greenskin was bred to ride these fearsome, canid beasts.

While the rest stood outside doing other things, he and a few other top-ranking goblins sat in front of a large, wooden table inside of a small cave that lied in the middle of what he now knew was the Badlands; a land that coincidentally went by the same name of where his tribe and himself lived before they were whisked away to this dimension. It wasn't like the dry plains of home, though. There was much more arid desert, and a lot less monsters to worry about, such as ghouls. Behind their table was several dozen big sacks full of gold, silver, and treasures that had been plundered and stolen from raids, or gained from bullying the opposition.

As the table of gobbos heartily ate their food, swigged down pints of fungus beer, or just made talk to one another about amazing battle stories or half-truths they cooked up to gain more attention (the majority of which were pure lies about stealing wyvern eggs or bravely fighting elves), Rukk himself was busy nibbling on the leg of a chicken, pulling off the fat, meaty bits with his small, but jagged teeth. Lying against one side of his throne of wood and furs was a long-bearded axe he used in most of his ventures, and on the other side rested a large wolf with a dark gray pelt. The she-wolf, Snaga was her name, was the goblin's best friend, and, as with every adult wolf in the clan, a personal mount.

"Oi! Oi!" a high-pitched shout suddenly echoed throughout the cave. Their attention brought off from their food and activities, each goblin lifted their big-nosed, pointy-eared heads and saw a goblin lad enter the cave with something clutched in his hands.

"Oi, look at what I copped!" the gobbo shouted again, raising his hands overhead and showing off a pigeon. "I waz just feedin' the pups, and dis bird 'ere landed in front of me! What a dumb bird. I fink he wants me to eat 'im. I just thought I'd show you first, boss."

"Dat's a messenger bird ya git. Hand it over and zog off!" Rukk demanded in his typical nasally voice, tossing his chicken leg away, which was promptly beset upon by his wolf. Afraid of getting a knock over the noggin if he disobeyed, the goblin did as he was told and with only a hint of reluctance in his step, gave the pigeon to the warboss and fled from his sight. After inspecting the cooing animal for a bit, he located and pulled the piece of paper off of its leg with his green fingers. With that done, he threw the bird into the air and the feathered creature flew out of the cave and away in a panic; no longer wishing to be in the company of such foul creatures.

Rukk read for some time, still fairly rusty on understanding the common language. When he was finally done, a toothy grin of pure malice stretched across his face from pointed ear, to pointed ear.

"You all right, boss?" one of Rukk's many lieutenants asked; specifically one with a rather long nose, even for a goblin.

"A 'course I am, Longnose," he replied. "It's from dat lizard git dat brought us 'ere in da first place! He says dat there's four strong gits he wants us to kill dead an' proper."

"Ooh. We gonna krump em, boss?" Longnose inquired again, rubbing his greasy hands together in glee. "I knows you's is right about 'im being a right foul git fer bringin' us 'ere in da first place as a half-done attempt to make us "slaves," but I do so very much wanna fight someone wiff proper weapons and fighty-skills."

"Maybe... maybe..." he spoke, sniffing his nose. "I don't wanna do what Lizard-Boy says, but it does certainly sound like fun. Better 'en standin' 'ere and doin' nothin' but eatin' and countin' gold."

"Can we, boss? Can we?" another, smaller goblin sporting a large helmet that covered most of his head asked in an excited tone as he placed a hand on his sword in enthusiasm.

"Ah... why not," their leader finally relented, crunching the paper up and tossing it away.

As the goblins around the table cheered, Rukk called for Snaga. Grabbing his bow and axe, and jumping into the leather saddle on her back, he grabbed at her reigns and mushed her to the opening of the cave. When they had exited it, the two found themselves facing the large goblin encampment just outside; the sun from overhead shining off of the Rukk's pointed metal helmet and fur cape-covered back, and casting a tall shadow thanks to the trophy rack that was attached there as well, showcasing a couple of dwarf skulls and a Bretonnian knight helmet from back in their world.

"Oi, ya sods! Listen up!" the warboss yelled out in an echoing voice as he raised his axe to his lackeys, who ambled around the camp until they caught wind of his words. Even the snotlings; an even smaller subspecies of orc and goblin with an incredulously dull and semi-sentient mindset, looked up at Rukk Gougesnik, as if in anticipation of his words.

"We got us some good-old boys in need of a good krumpin' up northward!" he started. "I was told in a note I just 'ad dat they took on an entire army of dat scaly git's monsters an' traitors an' 'en beat da snot outta dem! I say we go show dat scaly runt 'ow to do it proper, an' mount their 'eads on some pointy sticks, eh? What do you boys say to dat?"

Howls and roars of approval immediately sounded out, followed by the sound of multiple armored feet stampeding to the pen where all the wolves that weren't currently let out were kept, while some stayed behind to pack up their belongings. As soon as all the goblins had grabbed their assorted weapons and mounted their wolves, they raced over to their warboss, waiting for him to give the words to move out. They were not disappointed by what he said next.

"Ruff Ridas... let's ride out an' go get some!"

With that, the hundreds of goblins and wolves howled once more, and every single one followed their leader as he and his wolf bounded off at a top speed through the Badlands desert, in a northern direction, kicking up a thick cloud of dust and dirt in their wake.

Author's Notes:

Dis is gonna be good...