|The History of Castle Gobs|
Castle Gobs and the
surrounding lands are the property of Lord Whitington, my uncle. It
lies east and somewhat to the north of Kriegspire, and can be reached
by coach in one day.
The tale of how
Lord Whitington came into the possession of Gobs is well-known and
bards all over the continents of Enroth and Antagarich have composed songs
to relate the story. Yet, it is not a happy one.
But Spaward itself harboured only meagre forces. Still, it held off the Warlock raiders for a long time, until a group of renegate Titans joined our foes in spite of their treaty with the Faerie King, and the town was overrun. Both my parents and Sir Whitington's wife Oseginah were slain in the last hours of the raid on Spaward, while we children and some of the older folk made it to the Faerie Mound. There, for days on end the Warlocks tried to break the wards set by the Faerie King, but they could not find a way in.
The siege of Pierpont
was finally broken with the aid of troops from Stone City, even though
they could spare only a small-sized force. But the Dwarves fought very
bravely alongside the Elves of Pierpont. King Parson himself, with Sir
Whitington in his party, then marched to the north. When they came to
Spaward the king was able to lay a sleeping spell on the Titans, and
all of the raiders were killed. Thus ended the Nighon war. The Titans
were forever banned to Eeofol and a small patch of land around their
stronghold in Avlee. Water elementals were placed in the surrounding
waters to make sure that they would not leave the stronghold. The
Dwarves then populated the Nighon tunnels with minotaurs and bred
behemoths to keep both Titans and Warlocks out.
seeing Sir Whitington's grief and hearing about the knight's wish to
return to his homeland in Enroth, granted his champion the rule of
Castle Gobs and county, one of his smaller overseas possessions. At the
time Gobs had not had a ruler for many generations, so Lord Whitington
would be the first of a new line. The hero of Pierpont accepted
gratefully and not long after he set sail, bringing his children, me
as his niece, and a few of his closest friends with him to his new
The White Goblin
became a historical figure and every year on that day a parade is held
in its honour, where Lord Whitington himself will once again dress up.
We children learned to love our new country, but never forgot about our
elven ancestry. Goblins are still tolerated in Gobs, and they have
never bothered the peasants again since they, too, keep the White
Goblin in high regard.