DORULL SAGA - SWAMP OF DEATH
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Lascivious celebration, which saw goblins misbehave to their worst, lasted uninterrupted, for over three days
and nights. Excessive drinking and feasting, drastically depleted their reserves.
And that was the least of their worries, for at this moment, goblins just
wanted to enjoy themselves. In the morning of the fourth day, even those most
resilient ones, begin to feel the strain and fatigue, despite still
trying to prolong the festivities.
Inevitably, it all came to an end,
once the news of the storage doors shutting down, spread among them. A couple
of curses and threats later, goblins finally accepted that it was all over.
They dispersed from the main hall, trying to do anything else, but find the
closest bed sacks. Only things they left behind were piles of trash, and stains
of spilled drinks and vomit.
Soon thereafter, escorted by the
small military units, a few dozen females started cleaning the mess. All the
way from the great hall, to the tiniest cracks in every tunnel. They swept,
scrubbed, brushed and scraped, until it was all clean. It took them a whole
day, but at the end, every stone or wooden surface, every chair, table, blanket
and mat, looked brand new. Carefully, they collected, and washed every reusable
jug, plate and mug, and stored them into the labeled crates, for a later use.
Loud, unpleasant melody of the
harmonious snoring filled the corridors, as the entire city slowly succumbed to
slumber. Everyone, except two tied up prisoners, locked underneath the city.
Damp, stale air, hardly breathable as it was, intertwined with a heavy stench
of decaying, rotten flesh, worsened their ordeal beyond unbearable. All of the
sudden, a small gust of breeze flew through the cell. And then another one.
“It seems there’s an opening behind
my back.” Grodish whispered, suppressing the retch “I can feel the wind getting
stronger.”
“I know my boy. For it was closed
not long ago.” the shaman mumbled “I presume, our host is coming to visit us.”
“If I could only manage to untie
these ropes, I’m certain I could…”
“All your attempts are futile, you
half breed mongrel!” harsh, steady voice came from behind the closed doors
“Goblin ropes are unbreakable. There is no escape.”
Heavy, iron doors, held on
decrepit, rusty hinges, creaked open with a loud bang. Strong flames from
torches brightened the room, blinding the prisoners for a moment. In front of
them appeared a goblin, wearing sturdy, black, leather armor. He wrapped his
red cape over his shoulders, in order to protect himself from the draft.He was
also wearing that ridiculous crown on his head. King Moorg proudly stepped in
the cell.
“If I get my hands on you…” Grodish
bit his tongue, somewhat annoyed that he let his emotions take over.
But in his mind, he was to be
blamed for their entrapment.
“How dare you. You lousy mut?”
Moorg hissed, kicking the half-orc with the tip of his boot “You’ll learn to
speak, only when I allow you.”
Grodish felt he was about to
explode out of anger. His face turned red, popping every vein on his neck and
forehead. He grinded his teeth, begging for a chance to crush that smug, goblin
face. This thought alone, helped him to calm himself down. Moorg laughed,
immediately turning his attention towards the orc shaman. Despite being tied
and bound, shaman still kept his dignity. His composure and calmness annoyed
and irritated the goblin king, almost as much as that strong energy, which
radiated from within the orc. Moorg was sensing it more and more, with every step
he took towards the dungeon. And now, just a couple of feet away, it felt as if
every nerve in his body was burning in flames.
Irresistible impulse drove him
quite mad. He wanted to seize this incredible power right now, despite knowing
it is not the time, nor the place to do so. He felt like screaming. He felt
like smashing everything around him. He wanted to tear his own skin and
flesh, from this inner pain. Desire made him hurt, but he managed to fight the
urge. For how long, Moorg did not know. But for now, he controlled the call,
which he heard a couple of days ago, when he stumbled upon this orc. Goblin
knew that was not a coincidence. Because the road they took, on their way back
home, was suggested by his mystical amulet.
Even now, locket was the one
dictating his moves. In one last, strong rush of pain, which surged through his
limbs, the medallion finally let go of its control. Goblin silently sighed out
of relief, well knowing that perhaps next time, he won’t have the strength, nor
will, to suppress this need. Moorg had hopes, for when that happens, he
wouldn’t need to.
“Enjoy the last hours of your
lives.” the goblin king said, walking out of the cell “Be proud of yourselves,
for soon you’ll help me become the new ruler of the north.”
Moorg slammed the door, as hard as
he could, leaving this bone chilling place. And leaving it in a hurry. Roshnak
and Grodish stared at each other in wonder. With a blank look on their faces,
long after the last flicker of torchlight disappeared in the distance. Once
again, the darkness put its heavy cloak around them, as erratic, almost
hysterical goblin king’s laughter echoed from the hallway. Soon enough, there
was nothing but silence. Just the shaman’s heavy breathing disrupted the peace.
“That was strange.” At last, after
a few long minutes, half-orc broke the silence “Who do you think this new ruler
is supposed to be?”
“I’m not quite sure my boy, but I
fear that realization could cost us our lives.” Roshnak was somber in reply
“This I know for sure, this goblin is carrying something very dark and
dangerous.”
“Some kind of sorcery?”
“Though I haven’t felt any presence
of spirits, that is highly possible. It is a very, very strange magic, I’ve
never seen before.”
“That’s hard to believe.” Grodish
smiled.
“I'm serious, boy!” Roshnak snapped
“Goblin might look weak and naive, but there is this mystical, evil aura
surrounding him. Something not of this world. Something, that at least in his
mind, gives him the right to proclaim such ludicrous things. For this reason alone,
perhaps we should consider taking him seriously.”
“One small, stinkin’, insane
goblin, wants to rule the entire north?”
“However it sounds improbable, or
even impossible, I have to say yes.” the shaman replied “One insignificant
goblin might turn out to be a new ruler of the north.”
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