DORULL SAGA - SWAMP OF DEATH
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Small scouting party of five, led
by Gelian and Bagtur, was away from the fort for just over one night. The patrol route heading to the northern parts of the swamps, took them straight towards the Thirel
river springs. There, in the middle of Tanmar, in spite of the darkened
swamplands, hidden in a gorgeous grove, was a small oasis. Clean water dribbled
through the numerous cracks, into a stream, forming a lake perfect
for spawning grounds of different water creatures.
Seasonal migration of the large
shoals of fish from lake Kabial was in full swing. Something which hunters from
Thirel fort could not afford to let pass by. Possibility of the rich catch was
a good enough reason to risk their lives. Many dangerous creatures inhabiting
the swamp, laid claim into the same source of food. A reason enough for the
scouting party to hurry towards the destination even more so, because the
fishermen might’ve needed some protection.
Soldiers were now very close to the
lake. Loud, cheerful shouts of hunters could be clearly heard. It was a good
sign. And certainly not without a reason, because what they saw was magnificent
to say at least. Numerous fires lit the eastern shoreline, making a clear path
towards the hunter’s camp. There, on a small, makeshift, wooden dock, several
men pulled a large net out of the water.
Thousands upon thousands of silver
scaled fishes flickered and shined as pearls, in the light of the torches, as
they wiggled and jumped inside of the net. Soldiers readily jumped to help, cheerfully
greeted by somewhat tired fishermen. With the combined efforts, they pulled the
catch in no time.
Gelian and Bagtur had other plans,
they weren’t staying at the camp. Not even for a breather. Their journey
carried to the west, towards the ruins of an old fort of Nual-Dyluss. Once upon
a time, there lived a mighty powerful tribe of very belligerent goblins, which
was wiped out in the times of the great war. Soon enough, on its ruins, a new
community arose. That of an older, abandoned members from various goblin
tribes, which sought refuge elsewhere.
This new tribe wasn't involved in
any altercation. And were ready and willing to make the trades with almost
everybody. And by doing so, they involuntarily created a safe haven out of
their village. Often trade with Thirel post, sometimes accompanied by a few
valued information regarding ongoings in Tanmar, were the reasons for this
visitation. Sudden, urgent invitation they received a couple of nights ago,
spurred Gelian and Bagtur on the journey.
Terrain in front of them was very
difficult and extremely dangerous. The unfortunate, less experienced wanderers
could easily lose their lives here. They were heading through the thick woods
of black, dead trees, overgrown in moss and lichen. Fat roots and swirly wines
made the movement even harder, as if they were alive, crawling through the
muddy ground, tripping them with every single step. Swamp was criss-crossed
with many deep canals and ponds, filled with smelly, stale water, probably
infectious on touch. One of many dangers were also hidden pits of quick sand
and sulfur soil.
It was the brink of a dawn, when
scout and warrior approached the village. Large fires were beginning to simmer
down, yet gave enough light to ease their movement through the demolished ruins
of city walls. Goblins were using them, by taking all of the usable material
from which they built their settlement. Bagtur loved this village. One of just
a few places that ignited hope for a better tomorrow, in this forsaken swamp.
He held a great respect for these goblins, who unlike many others decided to
drop their weapons, at all costs. Half-orc was eager to find out what was new
in the village. So far, he saw a couple of new huts and four adjacent, tall
walls, perhaps of a tower, for lookout or a beacon.
“Twenty new huts!” proudly yelled
the tribe’s chieftain, who marched out of his house, welcoming them.
“Your community grew a lot, since
the last time we were here. Vrink could teach people about the power of peace
and unity. Tanmar would then be a much prettier place to live in.” Gelian
retorted, as he kindly bowed his head.
“Sadly, the world is more about
power and wealth. Nonetheless, your words are kind to me.” The chieftain said,
“That means, we are on the right track.”
“You certainly are, and always
were.”
“Please, please follow me. Do come
in.” Vrink waved, as he turned around.
About fifty yards away, in the
exact center of the village was his, two stories high building, made out of
rocks and tar. Only untouched structure, of a long lost goblin tribe, that
lived here long ago. Once a tavern, now a residence for tribal elders.
Chieftain led them up the stairs, through the long hallway and into a very cozy
office room. Flames from the recently lit fireplace flickered onto the walls,
decorated with animal hides. On the top of a black, wooden desk, sat several
pots and jugs, filled with all kinds of food and beverages.
“Help yourselves.” Vrink made a
welcoming gesture, as he too went for the chair “Eat while it’s warm.”
“With pleasure.” Bagtur muttered,
stuffing a sizable chunk of delicious roast in his mouth.
They ate in silence, for the next
half an hour, occasionally raising their mugs, filled with strong, spicy goblin
beer, toasting all of those, who are not among them anymore. They ate, until
there was nothing left on the plates.
“Could not eat a single bite.”
Bagtur burped loudly.
“Saying that, after he cleaned
everything?” Gelian smiled, “We are thankful, chieftain.”
“Good meal is always better, once
you share it with your friends.” Vrink nodded, lighting his pipe “Now, about
these matters I summoned you for.”
“Of course sir, here’s the list
from the…”
“Oh, but that can wait.” the goblin
made an unintentionally rude interruption “There is something bothering me for
the past ten days, I need to talk with you about.”
“Well… sure.” the scout agreed,
somewhat confused “What seems to be the problem?”
“Two weeks ago, a couple of my
hunters, came across this sickly, old goblin.” Vrink’s frowned face, clearly
spoke of a serious nature of predicament in question “He was exceptionally
thin, and nearly blind. Hunters said that he was delirious, incoherent, as they
rushed him back to the village.”
Goblin took a moment to refill his
pipe. He was careful not to spill any of that precious tobacco, he was getting
in trades with humans. Once it was lit again, he continued.
“He said, his name was Toorg. He
lived in Nual-Deu. That's…”
“Nual-Deu!” Gelian cried “The
goblins,…the goblins responsible for the attack on the caravan were from
Nual-Deu.”
“Indeed my friend, sadly they were.
And because of what Toorg said to me, I fear it was just the beginning.”
“Please carry on.” the scout said
impatiently.
“So…Toorg, from Nual-Deu, asked me
if I have found his amulet, as if it was the most important thing in the entire
world.” Vrink threw a couple of logs in the fireplace “He was repeatedly
mumbling about its importance, the danger and some curse it held.”
“And this is somehow connected with
the attack?” Bagtur asked.
“It’s hard to imagine, that old,
sickly goblin had anything to do with it.” Gelian added.
“Well that one is obvious, for he
sadly passed away, about a day or two before said attack.” Vrink said.
“I must admit, now I’m confused.”
Bagtur scratched his head.
“And so was I.” goblin replied
“Until one of my hunters reported on that unfortunate incident with the
caravan. You see, he was following the trail of the goblin war party, all the
way to river Vaang.”
“Vaang! But I did the same…and I
think I was alone in doing so.”
“Oh but you weren’t, my friend.”
Vrink smiled “You were as far to him, as you are now to me. He was surprised
you didn’t step on him, as you walked away.”
“I had no idea.” Gelian was a bit
embarrassed. “Be sure to praise your hunter, there are few of those who can
hide from me.”
“Even more so, for he was
meritorious in finding the culprits of that heinous crime against those poor
miners.”
“Who?” Bagtur was shy in asking.
“Couple of hours before his death,
the old goblin turned worse, starting to mumble the name of Moorg.” Vrink said
“First I thought he was saying his name wrong, but then I realized it was of
some other goblin.”
“Moorg? Who is he?” Gelian asked.
“Poor Toorg made me remember that
name well, as he was constantly blabbing of this great danger, we all may be
in.” Vrink coughed, puffing too big of a smoke “And once my hunter repeated the
name of Moorg, identifying him as a leader of the goblin party, which raided
the caravan, I fear it turned out to be the truth.”
“Even more so, once those
councilmen, from the south, send us marching orders for Nual-Deu.” Gelian said.
“New war is brewing? I was hoping
it wouldn’t come to that.” the goblin chieftain frowned, “Be very careful my
friends, Nual-Deu is a very dangerous place, filled with hidden contraptions
and deadly traps.”
Vrink let a barely audible sigh, as
he made himself more comfortable in his chair.
“I lived there, as a little boy.
One thing I feared the most were those fickle, dark tunnels and corridors, in
which even goblins could find themselves to get lost. Be very, very careful.”
Gelian nodded, as he grabbed his
heavy, leather bag from the floor.
“So…chief, how about that trade?
What can you offer in exchange for the brand new iron arrow tips?”
“Well…stone, wood, and perhaps some
beer?” Vrink’s eyes glittered at a mention of the trade.
Half an hour later, negotiations
concluded in a mutually assured satisfaction. Old chieftain enjoyed to haggle
more than anything else. Gelian knew that very well, as he often let the goblin
prolong the trade, just for the mere sake of it. Agreed quantity of the large,
stone blocks from the ruins of the ancient town, were to be transported on a
later date. Spurred by that strange story, Bagtur and Gelian decided to head
back to the camp, almost immediately. News of this mysterious assailant on the
caravan, needed to be urgently delivered to their superiors. Just a couple of
minutes later, they were back on the road.
Jumping over the log of a fallen
tree, Gelian made an awkward step. In an attempt to regain the balance, he
shifted his entire body on the opposite side, but his legs could not hold on
this wet, soft ground. Scout fell hard on his back and proceeded to slide down
the steep bank, straight into a muddy, foul pit. Unaware of the immediate
danger, Gelian laughed wholeheartedly, but frowned in an instant, as he felt
the sticky mud give in, pulling him down. And pulling him fast.
“I could use some help.” the scout
turned his head towards the half orc “I can’t move, I’m sinking.”
With mud, now well above his chest
line, Gelian was about to lose his calmness. Besides, watching Bagtur pick and
choose which wine to cut, was all but reassuring. Half-orc strapped the wine
around both of his arms, throwing the other end towards the unfortunate scout.
At first, it seemed that sticky mud wouldn't let go, but Bagtur was strong.
Inch by inch, Gelian’s body begins to emerge from this dangerous trap,
stressing the wine to its limits. Visible tearing exposed the thin fibers, as
wine started to split.
“Easy! Easy!” scout shouted, as he
anxiously watched the line.
Sudden splashes of water just
behind him, followed by the low hisses, made this ordeal infinitely more
complicated. Bagtur’s worried face said it all, the scout didn’t even need to
take a look. One last, hard pull freed Gelian, just in time for half-orc to run
down to the bank, with his sword ready. Scout turned fast, facing this new
danger, founding himself looking at a gaping jaw, filled with long, sharp
teeth.
Two swamp lizards, almost
simultaneously lunged for the helpless scout, taking him for weak, accessible
prey. Laying on his back, Gelian certainly looked that way. And for knowing
their eerie reputation, of not letting their prey ever escape, was something to
remember them by, beside the gruesome looks. Monstrous reptiles could move very
fast, across any terrain. With their thick, long, eel-like bodies and strong
muscly arms, they could snap a bone like a twig. Once on a hunt, there was
nothing that could break the swamp lizard’s focus. This impulse would often fog
their reasoning, which distinguished them from the rest of the predators.
Impulse, that was feeding their bloodlust, at the same time made them careless.
And in this instance, something that helped save Gelian, because lizards didn’t
even notice, a furious half-orc charging at them.
Swamp beast was distraught at the
prospect of a feast, as it went for Gelian’s leg. Just before those sharp teeth
snapped, a heavy sword split its thick skull in half. Sharp crack rose above
the horrifying, high shriek of the dying monster, somewhat surprising the other
lizard, which suddenly turned towards this insolent attacker. Enormous, over
twenty feet long body jerked aside, in a change of direction, lifting a wave of
water and mud. Strong tail slapped Gelian across the face, tossing him
unconscious to the ground. Although somewhat ungainly, the monster was fast
approaching Bagtur, releasing the sharp, piercing scream.
Half-orc waited calmly for the
lizard to come closer, when all of the sudden, from the pool, not far away,
several similar shrieks answered the call. Loud splashing of water, told him
that even more creatures are arriving for help. Lizard leaped towards Bagtur,
with the help of his strong arms, in intention to kill. And it could, with just
a single bite, of that powerful jaw. But half-orc was prepared for anything. By
bending a bit, he protruded his sharp blade, standing strong, awaiting for the
onrushing beast. Monster snapped his teeth loudly, as it flew just a couple of
inches above Bagtur’s head. Heavy, slime-covered body fell hard on the ground,
but was up in an instant, prepared for another charge.
Twisting like a snake, the lizard
was maddened, trying to bite half-orc, who was skillful enough to evade all the
attacks. Couple of punches landed on the creature's head, as it backed away.
But just for a second, for it lunged fiercely again. Lightning fast strikes had
taken Bagtur by surprise, giving him no time to react. Violent hit sent
half-orc on his back, as the lizard fell on top of him. Muscly, strong arms of
the monster pinned him to the ground, striking the air out of his lungs, by the
sheer intensity of the impact.
Large jaw widened even more. Sharp
teeth were closer and closer to Bagtur’s neck, as the pungent saliva dripped
from the corners of its mouth. Stimulating scent of flesh, enlarged his
nostrils. Lizard let the softly hiss. Its entire body shivered in joy, sensing
the pulsating veins and the sweet flow of the warm blood. Bagtur felt the sharp
teeth piercing the skin, on the back of his neck, when all of the sudden, the
beast twitched its body backwards. Stream of blood rushed from the gaping
mouth, as a longsword pierced the lizard’s head. Monster was dead in an
instant.
Half-orc managed to slide
underneath the heavy corpse, just in time, before the other hungry driven
beasts rushed the bank. He waved Gelian away, making a run towards the forest,
and away from them. But was surprised, once he realized that lizards lost their
interest in them. Drawn by the scent of spilled blood, these opportunistic
predators show them their cannibalistic nature. Strange turn of events, but one
which gave them a clear chance to escape from this horrid place safely.
Followed by the sounds of the
gruesome feast, Gelian and Bagtur managed to reach the edge of the woods, about
half an hour later. Tired and beaten, they arrived at fisherman's camp in the
late afternoon, without any more excitement. Or trouble. They were welcomed
with a warm meal, which was caught and prepared just moment ago. And it was a
substantial catch. Plenty of crabs, variety of fishes and shells, already
cleaned and sorted, ready for the transport. With one final cast of the net,
they officially ended the fishing season. One of the most fruitful, in a very
long time.
And for most of those hard working
hunters and fishermen, it came as a relief and as a grim, saddening reminder of
how much they depended on nature's mercy. Securing the cargo would take the
majority of the night, so Gelian and Bagtur agreed to travel back with them, at
a first sign of light. With an emerging darkness, two tired warriors went to
sleep. On a serene sky above Tanmar, a full moon appeared, helping fishermen to
finish their preparations for the journey, which they were about to embark on
the next day. Day, that would change the lives of everyone in this gloom, and
dark swamp.
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