Chapter Text
The Ikea tribe once called the eastern slopes of the North Chanel Range their home. The occasional raid on caravans or ambushing travelers notwithstanding, they were a mostly peaceful tribe. They hunted and toiled in a small river valley and rarely drew the attention of others. Occasionally a Hobgoblin troupe would arrive and attempt to marshal them into an army for their own ends, but the tribe never went along with it. A few Hobgoblins even settled with the goblins and came to enjoy the quieter life.
One day, this all came crashing down. Literally.
A dwarven construction company comprised of three brothers was contracted by the kingdom of Nerroth Khaz to build a rampart that would serve as an outpost, highway, and air intake for the grand hold. They called their company Bedwin, Bharth, and Beyonid. Their project required them to clear away a sizable section of the mountainside. The blasting they carried out worked to perfection for the projects purposes but was carelessly allowed to tumble down into the valley, bringing an avalanche of earth and stone into the Ikea tribes region.
After the panic and terror had mostly passed, the reality of the Ikea tribes circumstance settled in. They never had conflict with the dwarves, their business being deep in the mountain or high on its peaks. Now, with the village destroyed and more than half the tribe dead, I would serve no purpose to seek them out and beg them to stop.
The tribe’s leader by succession, Djungelskog, decided it was best for them to leave the valley and seek out a new home. After they salvaged what they could and gathered their survivors, they made their exodus into the Gladun Forest. With he wounded slowing them down and the occasional attacks by wild animals sapping their strength, they spent five days before they reached the ruins of Gladundon.
This was the first place they had found that came close to defensible, was deserted of people, and clearly unclaimed. What would they find waiting for them?