The Goblins of the eastmost captured village gathered silently in the settlement's square. Footsoldiers and archers lingered at the back, the cavalry riders and their massive boars to the left, and the lightly armored, foliage covered forward scouts to the right.
Before them all was Sergeant Dreadmaw, fastening the last straps of an ancient relic to his left arm, the common soldier had taken to calling it "Bigfist's might." Usually they carried the former Chosen Commander's claw to battle in storage for luck, but this would be the first time it had been donned since the great Goblin's passing. The sergeant let the silence linger a while before finally he spoke to the gathered force to give them a final, simple run-down.
"We have sat idle for long. No more. Varrock is weak, and will break easy. Then we's can make demands. We attack at night as before, kill all who you's find and make foothold. Then war boar riders bring golem for second attack. /Go./"
Quickly the foliage covered raiders scurried about, exiting the village and storming across the bridge en route to the outskirts of Varrock. The others followed after, but not as hastily, they merely sought to organize and prepare for their time to shine.
Once the raiders left the safety of their home they spread throughout the forest, no groups getting larger than 3 men as they snuck toward the outskirts of Varrock, and prepared to send their bloody message.
