DORULL SAGA - SWAMP OF DEATH
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Moorg stormed into his quarters, furious and disappointed, running away in shame from the altar. He needed to be alone. But most of all he needed to let off some steam. Out of angered sense of uselessness he began tossing, throwing and thrashing anything and everything that came under his hand. The ritual in which he took over his father’s energy, was unsuccessful this time. But why? He did everything as before. The newly crowned goblin king was desperate to figure this out. Perhaps he overlooked something. But what?
He was
certain he did everything the medallion had asked from him before. Only this time it
didn’t work. The thought of this incredible power suddenly leaving him was terrifying. But just for a moment. He shook his head, refusing to accept it.
Panting and sweating, he finally sat on the floor, grasping the medallion
gently, with both of his hands.
“What do
you want from me?” he almost cried, stroking its metallic surface, with the tip
of his fingers “I did everything you wanted.”
In a new
outburst of madness, Moorg ferociously threw away the amulet, across from where
he sat. To his dismay, the medallion stopped halfway in the air. As if it was
carried by something invisible, it levitated in the middle of the room.
Terrified, the goblin king looked incredulously at it, when all of the sudden,
the amulet turned around, slowly starting to move back towards him. Before
gently landing in his open palm. Only now, he noticed, the amulet was looking a
bit different than before. Moorg noticed the four small openings that weren’t
there just a moment ago.
“What is it
you want me to do?” goblin whispered timidly.
A bright
flash of light almost blinded him. He lost the control of his body, it felt as
if his spirit was leaving him. Silent, ghoulish voice called him. Called his
name. But Moorg was too afraid to open his eyes. To even acknowledge this
frightening invitation. All of a sudden, he had a distinct sensation of
falling. Cold wind blew against his face, sending chills through his spine. The
voice suddenly stopped. Everything went silent. Moorg carefully opened his
eyes. At first, he couldn’t see anything, but soon enough he adjusted to the
bright light. Silhouette was nearing slowly, it looked as if it was gliding
above the surface. Goblin blinked a couple of times, rubbing his eyes. In front
of him stood Toorg, his deceased father.
“B…but
how?” the goblin king stuttered “You..I…”
“Calm
yourself boy. Empty your mind, try to focus, and you will be able to understand
me.” loud, crude voice interrupted him “Close your eyes and try to feel.”
Despite
having countless questions, a bit hesitant, Moorg listened to his father. In an
instant, his body began shivering from the cold. His breathing was shallow,
irregular. It felt like he was dying, when all of a sudden the light breeze
sent the waves of warmth around his entire body, calming him into itself. He
was flying again, and traveling fast. Scent of the sea water widened his
nostrils, irritating his skin, but it too lasted for just mere seconds. Moorg
moved his hand, opening his eyes. He was sitting on his bed, clenching to his
amulet. Goblin finally knew what he had to do.
“Bring me the prisoners!” he jumped, calling for his guards “Now!”
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