The goblin prince knew that it was going to be hard. He knew that most goblins would refuse to follow him.
They were, for the most part, brigands. What use would they have from books and philosophy?
And yet, the goblin prince was not so long gone to not understand what could bring him respect. He hated doing this almost as much as the giant boar hated it, but he needed the dramatic effect.
The very same giant boar which Peter wanted to accident.
"Get that muzzle off me, goblin!" the boar roared. Dan, the goblin prince, ignored him.
Slave runes were cursed things, but that did not mean that Dan was above them.
He was a prince, and he was going to hell anyway. The purple mandate had a price.
But now, as he rode the boar into the goblin village, he could see the awe and fear in his fellow goblins.
But there was one goblin who felt no such thing: the chieftain.