The Birth of the Flameforged

Long ago, goblins were no more than scavengers—cowardly, wretched creatures that thrived in the shadows of greater civilizations. It was their desperation and envy that caught the eye of Nasten, Demon Lord of Cruelty and Conquest. He did not create them, but he twisted them.

Through rituals of blood and fire, Nasten poured his malice into chosen tribes of goblins, stretching their bones, swelling their muscle, and searing their minds with his hatred. What emerged were not goblins but Hobgoblins—a new breed bred for war. They were larger, stronger, and far crueler than their kin. Where goblins scurried in packs like vermin, Hobgoblins marched in ranks like soldiers.

The Demon’s Blessing, The Demon’s Spite

Nasten granted them the power to wield fire, shaping them into living instruments of terror. Yet in his twisted hierarchy of favored children, Hobgoblins found no place of honor. That position belonged to the Dark Dwarves, whom Nasten cherished as his chosen artisans of war and torment.

The Hobgoblins were left as expendable tools—useful but unloved. This rejection burned within them like the very fire Nasten had gifted. To prove themselves, they turned their wrath against all others, including the Dark Dwarves themselves. Their entire history became a contest of cruelty, as if sheer bloodshed might one day force Nasten to acknowledge them.

A Culture of Endless War

Hobgoblins are not merely soldiers—they are war incarnate. Every aspect of their existence is structured like an army:

1. Hierarchy by Blood: Leadership is seized through duels to the death, and authority is constantly tested by challengers.
2. No Rest, Only War: Peace is meaningless to them. Between campaigns, they train, sharpen their weapons, and torment captives to refine their cruelty.
3. Enslavement as Sport: To them, slaves are not workers but trophies. The greater the suffering of their captives, the greater the glory of the conqueror.

To other races, Hobgoblin warbands are a storm of fire and iron, leaving only ash in their wake. Yet within their camps, this destruction is ritualized. Victories are celebrated with pyres of burning prisoners, their screams echoing as an offering to Nasten.

Eternal Rivals: The Dark Dwarves

The Hobgoblins’ greatest torment is their constant comparison to the Dark Dwarves. Both serve Nasten, yet only the dwarves are called his true children. While Hobgoblins burn villages to ash, the Dark Dwarves forge cruel weapons, engines of pain, and relics that delight their demon lord far more.

This rivalry has defined Hobgoblin culture. They raid deeper, burn brighter, and kill crueler—always pushing themselves to outdo their rivals. Clashes between Hobgoblin legions and Dark Dwarven warhosts are common, brutal, and rarely decisive, for neither side will relent in proving their superiority.

The Curse of Fire

Fire is both a gift and a curse for Hobgoblins. With it, they wield power far beyond mortal soldiers—able to set cities aflame with a single raid. Yet the flames mark them. The ember-glow in their eyes betrays their lineage, and the stench of smoke follows them always.

Many believe this was Nasten’s cruelest joke: to brand them forever as his tools, but never as his beloved. They are weapons, nothing more, and the fire that empowers them also ensures they can never hide, never belong, and never be free of their master’s shadow.

Legacy of Ash

Where Hobgoblins march, only ruin remains. Their campaigns carve scars across kingdoms, erasing cultures and histories in fire. Villages burned, castles toppled, forests reduced to smoking husks. Yet even in death, their victims serve a purpose—offered to the flames in hope that Nasten might, at last, look upon his forgotten children.

Generations of Hobgoblins have lived and died in this cycle of conquest, rejection, and rivalry. To outsiders, they are monsters. To themselves, they are warriors cursed to fight until Nasten either destroys them or finally grants them his love.