To many in Brez it was shocking to hear that the Gang of Maklaltor had not gone to battle on that epic day. One thousand Olgogs girded for war were turned aside during an impassioned speech by the Goblin King Urog.
It was repeated by many that Urog said, , “Welcome, gangers of Brez. We are happy you received our message about food. You’re a little early, but welcome! You are at the first great farm of Brez. We hope to build more of these, so that all Brezans can be free from the hunger. It’ll take is some hard work, but we can work together to ensure no olgog hungers ever again in this city. This farm belongs to all of Brez. No single Goblin King will rule it. It is a gift from the Lur Union, Tla’loc’al, and the United Tribes of Der’al. If you send gang members to work it, they may take mak from it to feed your gang. We, the United Tribes of Der’al, the Great Northern Army, and the Gang of Uf Mag’og, defend it.”
Urog took a slight pause before continuing, “Blood’og and others… you have two choices.” Urog had his gang’s Ur Rhug bring forth some food, “You may drop your weapons, and retrieve food. Tomorrow, you will send your own to work the land with us. As long as there are gog to work it, the farm will give us mak.” Urog dropped his voice, filling it with menace, “And unlike King Blood’og, I don’t need to threaten mercy. If you attack this farm, and selfishly try to hoard what is meant for all, then none will have its bounty. I don’t need mercy, Brezans, to show or to ask. Gul’al is indeed the Mightiest Chieftan, and I am the guardian of her armies. So if Blood’og challenges this farm, he challenges Gul’al, the Great Northern Army, and the United Tribes of Der’al.”
Urog paused, changing his tone to matter-of-factly, “A word of warning to any Gang leader who challenges this farm. You will not be treated like a Brezan, as your actions are not just against Brezans. You will be treated like a war criminal against the United Tribes of Der’al. In this case, my judgment will be as follows: war criminals that attack this farm to hoard its bounty will be hunted down, executed, and granted final death.”
Urog gives another pregnant pause, “But let that not be why you choose to stay your hands. This farm is a gift from our fellow olgog. It grants us a better life. And if we do not cherish it, protect it, and share it, then we do not deserve it. Any show of force here today, and it will be destroyed. Either it belongs to all or it belongs to none. So Blood’og, and others,” Urog waves generically around, “if you choose selfishness, to prove your og to all, the olgog of Brez will continue to starve. Your blatant lack of compassion will not be tolerated. So everyone… think very strongly about the consequence of your actions. Today will be either the day we begin to live differently, or the day we prove that we deserve nothing more than to be slaves, begging for mercy from the “strong”.”
One hundred of the puniest and weakest of the Gang of Maklaltor were sent to the farm to grow the land. For Gulor and Shirley it was a significant success. The farm now had more than enough workers to provide food for thousands of Brezans.
The underground farms were expanded in size until quite a few miles of farmland now stretched safely under the terrain. Arificed lighting regulated the season for the plants, and water was created in little irrigation channels. Meanwhile the musclebound Brezans tilled the soil, spread fertilizer and collected the harvests.
Each time a harvest was made ready, Blood’og would be first in line to collect his tribe’s share and not mutter another word about it. Though already rumors spread that the extra food had made his nine hundred remaining soldiers even more dangerous.
Five more Gangs in the heart of Brez fell to them that week, their leaders killed by new varieties of the maklal’tor’s signature trap. No matter the type of food given to the Maklal’tor, most would feed the bellies of the hungry tribe. But the rest would be prepared in their tribal fashion, and the death of others would ensue.
Despite the extremely sanitary conditions at the farm, disease was now a constant enemy. Food supplies got infected, water got infected, and olgogs were regularly visiting the healer’s circles. Many of the local gangers of Uf Mag’og blamed Blood’og’s gogs causing a more than a few fist fights to break out. Gulor personally investigated but found the Mak’laltor gangers were doing their job as promised with spreading disease on their part. During the investigation there was talk of dirty gogs who the Mak’laltor thought were Uf Mag’og and the Uf Mag’og thought were Mak’laltor. Of course both sides were even more offended by this element of the investigation.
