Who Are the Knights of Moss Hill? The Story of Mossarion and His Goblin Knights
- Durgin
- 7 days ago
- 8 min read
It is not every day that one gets to launch an entirely new range!
Fortunately, the Knights of Moss Hill are proving to be an immensely entertaining project to develop, and I must admit I am still getting properly acquainted with these lunatic, lance-waving, bounding cavaliers in order to squeeze every last drop of potential from them.
The glorious burden of launching this range rests, for now, upon the noble shoulders of the Gallant Knights, who are perhaps the most representative elements of this brand-new archetype in Inneath.
But who, exactly, are the Knights of Moss Hill?
This range was born last summer, while I was working on The Offcuts and, by extension, on the embryonic idea of a possible starter set for my skirmish game. As I pictured the delightfully unhinged company of Thugni Olafsson in my mind, and developed their story and the narrative backdrop that would serve as the stage for the first season of the game, one image kept returning to me: a mysterious island covered in moss, wrapped in sinister fogs and choking marshes. The sort of atmosphere that belonged to that fairy-tale fantasy of the 1980s, which left such a deep imprint on my imagination (I do not know about you, but I am still not entirely over the death of Artax...).
So I gave this place a name, not lofty or arcane, but plain and faintly ridiculous: Moss Hill.
As I scribbled the story of the Offcuts and their adventures on Moss Hill across loose sheets of paper, sending them in search of the lost ruins of Zorn Uval, it became obvious that I needed an antagonist made to measure, someone capable of vaulting over the limits of a supporting role and claiming the spotlight outright.
And then inspiration struck me with all the subtlety of a frying pan:
a court of Goblin Knights, obsessed with chivalric romances.
I know. It may not be the most neurotypical connection imaginable. But the more dots you join, the more sense it all begins to make. Believe me.
Like many stories in Inneath, this one began with a chance event that lit the fuse beneath the dreams of a creature who, by any ordinary standard, was not especially important: a Goblin adventurer much like any other, a providential shipwreck upon a moss-covered island, and the discovery of a mysterious treasure chest. Inside the chest, however, the Goblin found not gems or doubloons, but an old dusty book.
Ordinarily, a Goblin would have ignored a mouldering tome, or perhaps used it to help start a fire. But Grobnit, for that was his name, had just been shipwrecked on an unknown island and was suffering from a severe lack of entertainment. So he did something no sensible Goblin would normally do: he decided to read it.
It took weeks, perhaps months, but the more Grobnit read, the more enthralled he became. The title of the mysterious book was Le Morte Darthur, and within it were tales so glorious that they awakened something in the Goblin’s heart, perhaps the most powerful spark in all of Inneath:
ambition.
So, Grobnit learned of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and read of legendary deeds and the mysterious Camelot. But above all, the Goblin discovered the existence of two legendary artefacts: the mighty Excalibur, a sword said to triumph over any foe, and the Holy Grail, a sacred cup rumoured to grant immortality to whoever drank from it. You will understand that, to a Goblin, the prospect of immortality is enough to overturn waterfalls and inspire the climbing of mountains with one’s bare hands (Goblins and Orcs are not, after all, famous for their generous life expectancy, do you remember?). And this was precisely the effect the idea had upon Grobnit’s ravenous mind.
Inside the book, Grobnit found a map even more worn and ancient than the text itself, covered in near-illegible notes and strange glyphs. To the Goblin, there could be no doubt whatsoever: this map would allow him to discover the exact location of those two legendary treasures, and he would become immortal.
Thus began Grobnit’s exploration of the island. Time and again, he narrowly escaped death, and time and again, he uncovered wonders hidden for untold centuries amid the fogs and swamps of Moss Hill. The more he survived the dangers of the place, the more convinced he became that perhaps chance had not brought him there at all, nor led him to that book. Perhaps he too was destined for something immense, just like Arthur. And when at last, following the glyphs on the map, Grobnit reached the heart of the island and came upon an enormous ruined fortress, his convictions hardened into certainty: plainly, he was destined to become a King, and what stood before him could be nothing other than his Camelot.
That enthusiasm became a fanatical conviction when, within the ruined castle, he discovered entire chambers filled with gold and weapons. Among them was one sword in particular, shining with a light of its own, as though it had been forged only hours earlier rather than abandoned for centuries beneath moss and lichen.
Grobnit could scarcely believe his eyes: this could only be Excalibur, the legendary treasure sung of in the tales of King Arthur!
With trembling fingers and tear-filled eyes, Grobnit lifted the sword and decided that this day would forever be remembered as the day the new Arthur was born. But Grobnit did not sound regal enough, nor sufficiently majestic. It was, in fact, a rather common Goblin name. So he issued the first decree of his kingdom: from that day onward, he would be known as Mossarion, First of His Name.
And so, in truth, there began something far greater than the career of a mere Goblin adventurer.
Armed with his new relic, Mosscalibur (for he naturally renamed the sword as well) and possessed of a self-esteem now leaking from every pore, Mossarion soon made all of Moss Hill his own. He easily routed the wild beasts living near the castle, and amassed enormous quantities of gold by robbin-ehm, recovering it from the many ruins scattered across the island. He now possessed a legendary sword, a castle overflowing with gold, and a name fit for a King. The only thing missing, obviously, was a proper court.
But how was one to leave the island? There was little fun, and even less glory, in reigning over an uninhabited swamp. More importantly, who would sing of his deeds if the name of Mossarion never travelled beyond those marshy shores?
At that moment, another regal idea leapt into his mind, and his gaze fell upon the enormous toads that populated the swamps near the castle. Taming one of these creatures was no easy matter. Though they were not especially fond of Goblin meat, they were exceedingly stubborn and hostile, and entirely unimpressed by the fact that they stood in the presence of a true and legendary King. Yet, after many failed attempts and a corresponding number of painful bruises, Mossarion discovered these amphibians had a voracious fondness for the wild garlic growing near the castle, one of the few reliable food sources on the island besides red-cap mushrooms and marsh eels. By tempting the toads with generous quantities of garlic, Mossarion gradually won acceptance from the colony, until he was able to ride them. For himself, naturally, he chose the most regal toad of all: a specimen with yellow skin that gleamed like gold in the sunlight, whom he named Fierogozzo.
Upon the back of his noble steed, Mossarion swam away from the island, carrying only the essentials: Mosscalibur, the book, and a generous supply of gold and wild garlic.
Thus began a period of adventures during which the name of Mossarion began to spread throughout Inneath. For his part, the Goblin seemed truly illuminated by some divine light, though it may equally have been the power of limitless and fanatical confidence in his own ideas. Wherever he went, Mossarion drew other Goblins to his side, winning them over with tales of his epic exploits and dramatic readings from his beloved book. It was then that The Most Honourable Code of Knightly Matters (simply known as "the Code") was born: a great tome in which Mossarion began recording his thoughts and doctrines, the knight’s bible, the instruction manual for becoming a legend.
When Mossarion had gathered around him twelve companions he considered sufficiently trustworthy and valuable, he decided it was time for the next chapter of his saga. He led them to Moss Hill, showed them his castle, and revealed to them the secret of taming the great swamp toads, thereby allowing them to become true knights. Thus was founded the Inner Circle, or the First: a company of warriors devoted beyond all reason, led by a legitimate King.
Mossarion gave them a task: to build a court worthy of a King.
And so the First scattered, each determined to prove himself the finest in the eyes of his sovereign. Each sought recruits according to the teachings of Mossarion, following every note in the Code as though it were divine law. Whenever they found a candidate deemed worthy, they brought that soul to Moss Hill and subjected them to a series of initiation trials as harsh as they were merciless. Those who survived received a giant toad and earned the right to call themselves Gallant Knights. In turn, the Knights were expected to do the same, leaving the island in search of new followers to bring back to Moss Hill.
Before long, Mossarion had the court he desired.
To an innocent eye, the Knights of Moss Hill might appear to be little more than caricatures of chivalry. The truth, however, is altogether different and considerably more unsettling. The fanaticism with which these Goblins follow Mossarion, and the conviction with which the King of Moss Hill believes in knightly ideals, have made them profoundly unlike their kin. They possess a tenacity and martial discipline almost inconceivable among other Goblins, they train their skills seriously, day after day, and they care for their equipment. They even, it is said, cultivate both their minds and their prowess in battle! Many enemies have underestimated a Knight of Moss Hill, only to find themselves skewered by a sharpened lance after a lightning leap and a thrust executed with alarming precision.
For all their picturesque quality, and however ridiculous they may first appear, the Knights of Moss Hill take themselves and their calling with absolute seriousness. In time, they have earned the respect of many hardened adventurers and attracted the worried attention of the nations of Inneath, two conditions rarely associated with the word Goblin.
Some say that Moss Hill has swiftly become a true destination of pilgrimage, despite lying within the Sea of Mist, and despite the fact that reaching it involves one of the most dangerous crossings in the entire western hemisphere. And yet, day by day, more adventurers choose to defy fate in order to see the court of King Mossarion with their own eyes, and perhaps even join him.
Could it be true, then?
Perhaps destiny does not favour those born with an irreplaceable gift, but those who dare to believe in the impossible with such total conviction that, sooner or later, the impossible is forced to give in.
If you feel, deep in your heart, that your collection is currently lacking armoured Goblins, heroic nonsense, and heavily committed swamp cavalry, then I have excellent news: the path to glory lies but a few clicks away.
Join my Patreon today and download the digital kit of the Gallant Knights of Moss Hill, the very first step into this strange and ambitious new faction. Muster your knights, prepare your lances, and let your workbench become the latest outpost of chivalric madness in Inneath. After all, legends do not build themselves: usually, they need a Goblin, a toad, and a frankly irresponsible amount of enthusiasm!
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