The Great Shattered

Grennoch Nine-Doors

A goblin lord in shape, eight feet of it, crowned and armoured in doors: nine of them, taken from nine houses it emptied, strapped over its body as plate and worn until the paint came off.

It came through into a hill country whose people feared their neighbours more than they feared anything in the dark, and so it wears the neighbour.

Body

The doors are the one thing about it that is not borrowed substance. They are real doors, and nobody has explained why a mindless thing should collect them, except that a shape made out of fear of the man next door will go where doors are.

Everything else about it is the class's ordinary anatomy, which is to say almost none: the shaped parts are void substance arranged into a silhouette, with no root, no nerve and no bone behind them, and the interior is undifferentiated from the gullet outward.

Society

It holds the largest monster court known outside the dens, several hundred lesser things arranged in ranks it has never addressed. The authority is neither organised nor chosen. Lesser things gather around a Shattered the way weather gathers around a mountain, because a Shattered is a piece of a god and everything with a nose for the void can feel it.

If it were killed the arrangement would collapse and the hill country would get six months of ordinary banditry, which local lords habitually mistake for improvement.

Regard

No scholar has identified the Prince it came off, and the Coven has twice sent to have it looked at, which suggests one of them suspects it is theirs. The greater Remoulded hunt Shattered in order to reabsorb them and recover what the fragment knew, so a second look is not curiosity.

What the shape says about the country is the part the country does not discuss. A valley that fears the water gets a serpent; this one feared the man over the hill.