Rise of Greasus Goldtooth:
Warning: Ogres, therefore mention of cannibalism.
2482 IC
It was a cold and cloudy day in the Mountains of Mourn as the wind breeze flowed around the vales and valleys surrounding the Valley of Horns. It was not an atypical day for this area in the Eastern Mountain ranges, but what was atypical was the hushed silence that occupied the territory of the notorious Goldtooth tribe; current rulers of the Valley; save for the grunt, smacks and cracks heard from within the Pit in the middle of the Goldtooth camp.
There, two Ogres were fighting for the title of Tyrant, a father and son. It was not an uncommon story, for many Tyrants sired dozens of children that grew strong and would challenge them for the title only to be consumed. Some of these children reigned supreme instead, taking their father's title and relieving him of his mortal shell. What was uncommon was the sheer size difference between the two, with the son having grown so large and corpulent, forming many dense layers of fat over his muscles that his father had to strain his near nonexistent neck to look at him.
What caused the hush of silence was not simply the difference in their body sizes however. The silence was inspired by the sheer one sided beatdown that their great leader was receiving at the hands of Greasus Goldtooth. Every strike Gofg laid on the flabby mass of his son, the only parts he could reasonably reach in quick order, the waves of fat would wobble and absorb the impacts. In comparison, Greasus' own strikes would crush bones, daze and disorient Gofg and force him to reorient himself only to find another leathery fist smashing into his head.
It took 5 minutes for one of the greatest Tyrants of the Goldtooths to be defeated, and three of those reserved for Greasus consuming his still living father's body. It didn't take long for them to recover after hearing Greasus' first decree as Tyrant.
"IT LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE A FEAST TONIGHT BOYS." Greasus bellowed to the crowd.
The stunned audience snapped out of their daze to let out the loudest cheer heard in decades across the Valley. Greasus Goldtooth had become Tyrant of the Goldtooths.
2483 IC
Greasus Goldtooth, Tyrant of the Goldtooth Ogre Tribe of the Mountains of Mourne around the Valley of Horns, was an exceptional Ogre. If any of his subordinates held any doubts about his martial prowess after the display during the fight with his father, then they dare not voice them after seeing him display his dominance over the neighbouring tribes that contests Greasus' rule. He had offered them a choice, submit, or die. He would be Overtyrant, and if they held objections to that they could try to take him on.
It was not simply his absurd mass and martial prowess that was impressive for an Ogre, however, it was his intelligence. When Greasus took control of the Goldtooth tribe, he forbade his fellow Ogres from devouring, attacking and raiding trading caravans moving through Goldtooth territory. He restricted them to simply taking tolls, which could be paid in valuables or food. While many of the Ogres in his tribe were perplexed, wondering why they wouldn't just take all their belongings and eat them on top of that, Greasus was capable of seeing past the short term.
It is true that his tribe could most likely savage the majority of the caravans moving through the valley with surprise attacks, acquiring their wealth and food and eating the members of the caravan itself, but there was a consequence to doing that. If people deemed the route dangerous, then fewer and fewer people would come to it as it grew more risky. If the route was safe and you only needed to pay up a portion of your supplies to move through, then that stability would lead to more people coming through to that specific route. More money meant more food. Sacrificing food for the short term meant more food in the long term.
It was this type of long term thinking that separated Gofg from most Tyrants, but Greasus took this to an even greater extent, honing his mind to a razor sharp edge (by Ogre standard). Over the year that he took control, Greasus expanded the territory of his tribe and they became richer and richer as more caravans moved through the Valley and were granted secure passage as long as they would pay up. This meant that his tribe was one of the most well fed in his territory, which attracted more and more Ogres. He defeated all challengers and subjugated nearby Ogre tribes that offered alternative routes, and his ability to think of the long term allowed him to gain the favor of the many traders (comparatively) to move through his territory.
Such was his intellect, that he knew that the influx of trade could not have been solely as a result of his own escapades. Something must have changed for this increase in caravans moving through his Mountains, and he needed to find out what that was.
So it was that one such Tilean man leading the latest caravan into Goldtooth territory was led into the Greasus' tent. The nervous looking trader looked absolutely diminutive in comparison to the large Ogre taking him in with a considering glance.
"Diego's yer name I hear? Well, no mater. Git over here, I got some questions for ya." Greasus' rough grumbly voice rumbled from his throat, displacing some of his jowls as he spoke.
"Gorg told you to bring your map ye?"
"Aye, though he didn't tell me why I was summoned." Diego nervously intoned as he approached the table with maps in hand. He began unfurling them across the table as Greasus looked over the maps contemplatively.
"I notice more of those wheely wagon things goin' through my territory lately. Good for business, but I don' like bein' ignorant. You tell me what changed, and I give you a discount on tolls. You lie to me, you never see the light of da sun again, understand?"
"Yes sir." Diego knew better than to question the words of a man who could crush his head in one hand.
"Alright, get on with it. I don't have all day"
Diego coughed into his fist to clear his throat, gathered his bearing and began speaking, carefully but slowly picking up steam as he first pointed at his home principality of Miragliano:
"I come from Tilea, specifically Miragliano. We know how valuable the trade materials of the East are, yea? So we send expeditions now and then and those who come back, usually no more than a tenth, become the stuff of legends. There are two main ways to get to the Far East. Overseas, or overland.
"Overseas is risky, unstable yea? Greenskin pirates from Dragonback Mountains, Sartosan pirates, Druchii Corsairs looking for slaves, Arabyan pirates looking for slaves, Chaos Dwarfs looking for slaves, sometimes Tomb Kings and sea monsters and bad weather ruins the ships. Too dangerous, too circuitous, too unstable." Diego was growing more stable in his tone as he adopted his usual tone when instructing some of the younger traders. He would have been worried if the Tyrant listening to him wasn't listening to his every word intently.
"So you go the other way? Overland you said? That means you go here." Greasus pointed to the roads leading from Tilea through to the Border Princes.
"Ah no. You see, it's true that the open seas are dangerous, but the Gulfs, not so much. Black Gulf is watched over by the Dwarfs of Barak Varr, and they're close to the Tilean Sea so while there are pirates, it's not so hard a journey to go through this passage." Diego pointed up the Black Gulf to point at Barak Varr, the Dwarf Hold built at the headwaters of the Black Gulf.
"Some less fortunate caravans might be forced to move overland through the Border Princes, but not so for the wealthier merchants. In any case, Barak Varr is the stop for all southern trade, it's the perfect place to start the overland journey into the Far East. I'm sure you already know this, but to get us all on the same page, this is the World's Edge Mountain Range, this is the Dark Lands, and these are the Mountains of Mourne. To get to the Far East overland one needs to bypass all of them.
"There are 5 passes through the World's Edge leading into the Dark Lands. From north to south there's High Pass, Peak Pass, Silver Road, Mad Dog Pass and Death Pass." Diego pointed at each pass in turn.
"To make things brief, High Pass used to be watched over by Karak Vlag but it disappeared nearly two centuries ago, so it's unsafe and far north besides. Peak Pass is too far north for most Tileans like me, but beyond that while the Western edge is safe the Eastern part isn't." Greasus nodded his head. He wasn't involved in it, but he knew some Ogre tribes that frequented that part of the Dark Lands.
"So I'm guessing that something happened with the south passes to boost your chances?" Greasus took a guess. Diego stopped briefly, looking surprised to be receiving engagement.
"Oh yes. The Silver Road is still dangerous because of the Bloody Spears Tribe in Mt Grimfang, and Mad Dog is completely chaotic and unclaimed, but things started changing recently because of Death Pass." Diego's pace grew more frenetic and full of energy as he began to realise that he had an engaged audience.
"Look here, the Blood River. No settlements were made on it because there was no reason to, yea? Too fast flowing, no ship could sail upstream except for Barak Varrs' steamships, and the soil was too exhausted. Things changed when an expedition to reclaim Karak Eight Peaks, this hold over here, came through. A new settlement was made up here." Diego pointed at the headwaters of the Blood River, where the words "Ulrikadrin" were hastily scribbled on the map almost as an afterthought.
"This here is a fertile valley, but that's not the big thing. The big thing is that this port town leads to a passage moving through the mountains here, bypassing the Orc stronghold of Black Crag, and moving you over here, in Death Pass. Once you're here you're watched over by Cannon and Mortar from Karak Eight Peaks; which was successfully reclaimed by the way, good on them!; all the way to the Hold itself. From there you restock on supplies and can march all the way to the Dark Lands under near complete safety. THAT is why so many more caravans are moving through lately!" Diego ended his excited tirade, looking expectedly at the contemplative Greasus.
"Hmm…" Greasus rubbed his many chins in thought. "So this "Karak Eight Peaks" securing this "Death Pass" means more people survive the trip. Means more people go through here, means more money for me from tolls, and more money for you from trade. Issat it?"
Diego gulped nervously as he remembered in whose presence he was standing in. He unconsciously straightened up before replying: "I believe so, your… majesty?"
"Lord Goldtooth is fine. Anyways, this is helpful. Thanks for the info, you're getting a 50% discount. Hope you weren't lyin' about anythin', cus if you are…" A single glance from the Ogre was enough to make Diego consider his own mortality.
"I'm not. I can assure you on my honor as a tradesman." He replied unwaveringly, maintaining eye contact.
The Tyrant spent a little while imposing his presence before looking back to the maps, waving his hand to dismiss the Tilean man. Hardly five seconds of concentration had passed before the Tilean was out of his camp, not asking for his maps lest he incur the Tyrant's wrath.
Greasus Goldtooth on the other hand, was simply digesting the information he received, as if it was a tasty morsel not for his gut, but for his brain. He was aware, on an instinctual level, about many of the aspects of trade that his father valued, but he had never really considered applying it to maps and learning… whatever the field of study that had to do with places was called. But now, he was considering it.
'Safer roads means more people come through. More people come through means more money and more food, maybe we never run out. He didn't mention it, but these towns, Pigbarter and Sentinels, I know of the Ogre tribes there. They're some of the richest people over there. If I had control over not just this Valley, but over those areas, and over this "Spice Road" instead of just the "Ivory Road" I'm sitting on. That means more food right? The other Ogres right now, they're stupid. They see people moving through, they take their money then eat them. Nobody's gonna want to move through there if that's always what happens."
Slowly, but surely, the gears continued to grind in the Tyrant's head. He had already considered the idea of becoming Overtyrant, the first Ogre to claim the title in hundreds of years. He knew he could do it, but this revelation was motivating him. It made him want to push for it even more than he already was.
To those outside the tent, all one could hear was the ominous chuckling of an Ogre revelling in his newfound information as if he had found out the secrets to the universe.
Perhaps that was indeed the truth, for that particular Ogre at least.
AN: After reading the Ogre Kingdoms Army Book, I was inspired to make this. Especially when I read the time that Greasus Goldtooth took over as Tyrant of the tribe. I started considering the consequences of Death Pass reopening causing more caravans to manage to reach the Mountains, and what kind of influence it would have on Greasus as he starts claiming power. As one can see, I left it vague what happened more recently in the timeline because I'm not sure what Boney's planning with him, but I hope this entertains you at least.
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