PREFACE

About the Forest Goblins

Forest goblins are very ancient creatures, and no one knows for certain when or how they came to be. It happened so long ago that time has erased the event from goblin memory. But one legend still exists. Some goblins believe it, and some do not.
And here is what it says.
At the very beginning of the world, when not a single tree yet grew where the forest now stands, people appeared in distant southern lands. They were cunning, cruel, and insatiable creatures who did nothing but lay waste to everything around them. Their tribes waged endless wars against one another, and the victors always drove the defeated from their lands.
The exiled tribe grew so weak that it could no longer defend itself or feed itself. Its spirit dimmed, the fire of life grew faint, and people died one after another. This went on for long years, until one day the defeated tribe refused to meekly accept its fate and vanish without a trace.
Wounded but not broken, the people decided to fight for their lives, even if it meant enduring the harshest trials. Fleeing, they went into the mountains and found shelter in caves.
But danger awaited them there too. Trolls lived in the mountains. More and more often, they crept into the caves and dragged people off. Infants and young girls fell victim to them most often of all.
People resisted the monsters desperately. Many gave their lives defending what remained of their tribe. Under the trolls’ onslaught, people had to abandon the large, bright caves and move into small, deep ones.
The struggle went on, and in time people learned to fight the trolls. Besides, with their large bellies, the giants found it hard to climb into people’s new dwellings. They often got stuck in the narrow passages, and then people made short work of them.
At last the long-awaited time came when trolls stopped appearing in the people’s caves. It seemed the danger had passed, and they could breathe easy. But it turned out to be too soon to celebrate.
The caves still remained cold and dark. Only on the sunniest days did light briefly break through the gloom. To get food, people had to go outside, where trolls still roamed and went on attacking anyone who crossed their path.
It seemed their suffering was unbearable, yet they did not give up. Besides, there was nowhere for them to go. Behind them lay the same embittered tribes of people, from whom they expected neither compassion nor help. Ahead lay a valley with no place to hide, where the trolls would have slaughtered them without effort. Their only refuge remained the stone burrows, better suited to the dead than to the living.
This was how whole generations of mountain people lived. Years passed, and they looked less and less like those who had once come to these mountains. People grew shorter, because they spent most of their lives in cramped caves. Their appearance gradually changed. Their skin turned from white to gray, their faces coarsened, and their ears grew larger, as though straining to catch every sound of the outside world. In some caves it was so damp that the noses of the people living there became inflamed, swelled, and stayed that way forever.
Now the only things still connecting them to the human tribe were speech and the ability to walk on two legs. But the unfortunate prisoners of the mountains did not yet know that new dwellers of the world were already being born in the cold gloom of the caves, soon to be called goblins.

About the White Rider and His Power

The White Rider lived in the sky. From there he often watched the world, marveling at its diversity and, at the same time, its worthlessness.
One day, when the sky was clear and the sun shone especially bright, he turned his gaze upon the creatures living in the mountains. They walked on two legs, though they did not resemble trolls. They could speak like humans, though their appearance bore little resemblance to a human’s. They ate the same things as many animals, yet resembled none of them. The White Rider began to watch them, and he saw how hard every day of life was for these creatures. He saw how they suffered from hunger and cold, how rarely they saw sunlight, and how they never knew what tomorrow would bring. But he noticed something else, too. These pitiful, exhausted creatures kept a spark of hope in their hearts and went on fighting.
Then the White Rider understood that there was no power in the world able to make them give up the struggle. And whoever does not surrender never truly loses. He took pity on them and swore to give them a new life — one in which the lost dwellers of the mountains could find a true home in this cruel world.
The White Rider mounted his golden-horned ram and descended from the heavens. First of all, he decided to give these creatures a name, for by receiving a name they would become full members of the world. And he named them goblins. They accepted this gift with great reverence. Then the White Rider wished to grow a forest where no tree had ever stood before, and to give it to the goblins. His great power helped the young trees stretch swiftly toward the sky, and it protected the goblins from trolls while the forest grew and strengthened. In gratitude for his care and their wondrous new home, the goblins named their protector the Supreme Rider, who from then on would always stand at the head of their tribe.
Feeling the warmth of every goblin heart, the White Rider continued his good deeds. He gave the goblins sheep, so that they could raise them and never go hungry again. And so that they would not quarrel among themselves over the flocks, he gave them the seeds of plants that bore delicious fruit. So that they would not become confused in their affairs, the White Rider granted them the ability to write and count, as well as knowledge of sheep and plants. The first goblin to master this skill he named the Lore-master. The years passed, and the goblin tribe grew ever stronger. Tears of sorrow gave way to tears of joy, and bitter groans of despair yielded to laughter and jokes. But even in such happy times, their protector did not relax his care. He wanted the goblins to always be able to defend their home. So he showed them the places where deposits of iron lay hidden in the depths of the forest. Then he taught the goblins to make swords, and the first to master this skill he named the Iron-master. And he also gave each of them a particle of his great power, so that the defender’s sword would hold firmly in his hand.
But having received power and swords, the goblins began to do evil against one another and against the other creatures of the forest. The White Rider grew disappointed in what he had done, and he took his power back from the goblins. He could no longer take it back into himself, just as a tree cannot take back a fallen fruit. So he decided to give the power to the smallest and most defenseless creatures — the forest ants. Among the many ant families, he chose the weakest one. Seeing neither envy nor greed in the ants, the White Rider did something he had never done before. He gave them the ability to create power, so that the family could grow and strengthen. These deeds were hidden from the goblins.
Having done this last good deed, the White Rider left the goblins and rose into the sky. Only then did the goblins understand that their own actions had caused their protector great suffering. But it was already too late. However often they raised their eyes, repenting of what they had done, the sky answered them only with blue silence. From that time on, the goblins became humble and lived in peace. So the centuries passed, and they forgot that they had once possessed their protector’s gift.
For a long time the trolls were afraid to enter the forest, for they remembered what power the goblins possessed. But with each new generation, the fear faded. In search of food, trolls began appearing near goblin lands more and more often. The peaceful life of the Goblin Forest was coming to an end.
Soon clashes began. Realizing that the forest dwellers no longer had their former power, the trolls set about ravaging the forest. The goblins resisted desperately, but even iron swords did not always bring victory. And in time the trolls, too, learned to use the swords they took from fallen goblins.
Now most of the clans lived in constant fear. At any moment trolls might appear in their goblinums, and then many would have to give their lives defending their home. The stubborn struggle did not cease for a single day. The trolls pressed the goblins back. They managed to seize the eastern and western edges of the forest and began pushing into the goblinums. The goblins had no strength left to stop these mad giants who had come down from the mountains and the swamps.
The remnants of the western and eastern clans fled deeper into the forest, where the untouched goblinums of the Bignoses still remained. But their fall, too, was only a matter of time. And then, when no hope remained, and the despairing goblins were already preparing to leave the forest and doom themselves to wandering through foreign lands, a miracle happened.
The ant queen came to their aid. She decided to share her power, so that a goblin warrior’s sword could easily cut off the heads of trolls. At first the goblins regarded her with distrust. They thought they were being offered some sort of magic potion that would not save them, but destroy them for good.
But they did not know that their protector stood behind the ant queen. He had not forgotten the goblins, and all this time he had gone on watching over them. Despite everything, he still cared about their fate and the fate of the whole forest. Seeing the approaching tragedy, he took pity on them once more and decided to help. But he did not wish to appear himself and give them power with his own hands. So the White Rider brought the ant queen to them.
In the end, the goblins believed her and accepted the gift, never suspecting that it was the very same power their ancestors had once possessed. They met the trolls in fierce battle, winning victory after victory. Before long the whole forest had been cleared of the enemy, who retreated into the mountains and the swamps.
Overjoyed, the goblins did not pursue the trolls into their lairs. They hurried to rebuild their goblinums, eager to bring back their old life as quickly as possible. However, the power they had received once again began to cloud their minds.
Quarrels flared up between the clans. The goblins of the western and eastern forest accused the Bignoses of having helped them poorly during the war, and of being slow to share food while the fields still lay unworked and the flocks remained too small. They threatened to join together and take by force whatever they needed. The Bignoses, in turn, accused the other clans of ingratitude. They had sheltered all the goblins who had fled their own lands. The Bignoses began demanding submission from the others, promising help in return. But they were refused.
Then, taking advantage of the fact that the magical ants lived precisely on their land, the Bignoses decided to conquer the goblins of the west and the east. First they attacked the eastern goblins. That clan could not resist alone for long. One by one all their goblinums fell, and the Wardens were forced to submit. Emboldened by their swift victory, the Bignoses rushed westward and just as easily seized the first goblinums there. But two clans lived here, and they joined forces to put up a worthy resistance.
The power of the defending goblins gradually ran out, and there was nowhere to draw more. Still, they had no intention of surrendering. The western clans resisted stubbornly. The war dragged on for a long time and claimed the lives of many goblins on both sides.
The Bignoses succeeded in achieving their goal. They conquered both clans, and power over all the goblins fell into their hands. But this brought the Goblin Forest neither peace nor prosperity. Weakened by war and hating one another, the goblins ceased to be reliable defenders of their home.
The trolls took advantage of this. They had already licked their wounds and were only waiting for a convenient moment to invade again. They began slipping back into the forest, meeting no resistance. The Bignoses did not have enough warriors to defend every corner of the forest. The other clans were too weak. What was more, their new rulers had no intention of sharing the Ant Power.
The trolls sensed the goblins’ weakness and began launching bold raids in whole war-bands, ravaging the fields and driving off the sheep. Food grew scarcer by the day. The Bignoses had to send out their last warriors, just to defend the goblinums on the forest’s edges somehow. But then a new problem arose. The conquered goblins, who hated them, began rising up in revolt. Now the Bignoses had to put down rebels and fight the trolls at the same time. But they did not have the strength for two struggles at once. What was more, the Ant Power was being spent faster than the ants could create it. And without it, defeating the trolls was impossible.
Terrible times were coming for all the goblins. The ravaged fields grew over with weeds, and there was almost no one left to graze on the meadows. Cellars once full of food were now claimed by spiders and cockroaches. Famine was setting in. Day by day the goblins grew weaker. But the hatred between them would not let them unite and give battle to the trolls.
Ruin loomed ahead. And only a single step away from it did understanding come. The Bignoses repented of what they had done, and the goblins of the eastern and western forest realized that they had wished harm upon those who had once sheltered them. Then an alliance was struck between all the clans. The Bignoses gave out what remained of the Ant Power, and the goblins threw themselves once more into a final battle.
This time they resolved to finish their enemy for good. The battle went on for many days. The goblins drove the trolls out of the forest, but they did not stop there. They hunted down the enemy in every cave and by every swamp. The trolls were utterly crushed. Their remnants fled to the mountaintops and to the farthest, most impassable swamps. Now the goblins had secured their home for a long time to come.
Returning to their goblinums, they saw the full extent of the ruin and were horrified. But it was not the savagery and mercilessness of the trolls that horrified them. They were horrified by their own boundless greed and thirst for greatness. These very vices had led to the war. And it was the Ant Power that had nurtured them.
The goblins understood that they were too weak for such power. At first it lifts you up and leads to victory, but afterward it inevitably brings only suffering. Even so, they did not know what to do with it.
So the goblins gathered a great council of Wardens from every goblinum. For many days fierce arguments raged. Some proposed destroying the anthills, while others argued against it, since no one knew what lay ahead for the goblin tribe. At last it was decided to take the Vow of Silence concerning the Ant Power, and to turn their eyes to the sky, calling the Supreme Rider to witness.
Besides this, the Oath Scroll was written, recounting all the grief the goblins had brought upon themselves through their weakness before the Ant Power. Every Warden received the Scroll. He was to pass it from hand to hand to his successor, so that what had happened would never fade from memory. The Vow of Silence could be broken only in case of mortal danger.
So the years and decades passed. The Ant Power gradually turned into a legend, recalled less and less often. Time healed the wounds, and the clans forgot that they had once been at war with one another. They forgot the trolls too, for they had not seen one in their forest in a long time.
The Wardens, too, thought of their duty less and less often. The Scrolls, along with other manuscripts, gathered dust and became wrapped in cobwebs. And a hundred years later still, many Wardens did not even bother to pass on the Vow of Silence, regarding it as a strange whim of their distant predecessors.
So, unnoticed, the memories of those terrible wars did in the end vanish from goblin memory, and with them the Ant Power fell into oblivion as well. But it would yet return to their lives and become a great trial.