DORULL SAGA - SWAMP OF DEATH
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Moorg stretched his ached back, as he woke up by the splashing of the waves. He was stranded sideways on the shore, just about thirty yards away from the river’s mouth. Small canoe rocked against the water, but was undamaged. Goblin pushed the boat back into the water, as he started to row, following the coast, and towards the north. Warm southern wind gave him the opportunity to set the narrow, cotton sail. The sail immediately picked up the wind, pushing the canoe over the calm, clear waters of the lake. It wasn’t long before Moorg passed the shallows, leaving the hills of Nual-Deu behind him. He sailed for more than an hour, before reaching his destination. Mountain range of Laorn was just to his right, when the goblin decided to beach the canoe.
In a
couple of fast strides, he ran over the sandy shore, going in the general
direction of the thick, overgrown grove. He followed the guide marks, scratched
onto the trees. He was moving fast, following this strange, and secretive, goblin
pathway, until several minutes later, he stopped in front of an almost vertical,
stone formation, covered in vines. Ground around him was overgrown in thick
fern and moss. From there, he measured forty two feet to the east, and the same
as that to the north.
Moorg
stood there for a full minute, looking around, until he finally saw the iron
reinforced, wooden doors, covered in vegetation. Underneath the thick layers of
dead leaves to the right, the goblin king spotted a doty, wooden lever. Heavy,
ancient mechanism clanked and moved loudly, as he pulled the handle. Deep under
the ground, a bunch of cogwheels, ropes and cranks, slowly lifted the doors,
revealing the entrance.
Moorg
waited for the door to open completely, before he set a foot inside the dark
tunnel. He felt a small plate moving under his weight, but knew he was not in
any danger. A couple of sparks appeared in the far end of the corridor. Goblin
was familiar with this automatized device, made to turn on the lights, and was
calm once he heard the silent buzzing of the wheels. Soon enough, the tunnel was
lit with a dozen oil lamps, attached to the smooth walls.
Moorg
pulled the lever, very similar to the one outside, He proceed forward, once he
was assured the doors behind him were closing. Short corridor was turning left,
down the steep, chiseled, spiral staircase, heading deep underground. Slow and
careful descent finally ended, once he found himself in a medium sized cave,
whose floor was covered in gnarly, damp boards. Several animal hides, decorated the walls of the room, alongside three hung parchments, filled with
hundreds of names and dates. At the same time as Moorg, an old, grey haired,
bent goblin, entered the room.
“Your
highness, we were expecting your arrival.” the old goblin said, licking his only
remaining tooth “Let me just say, we are all fortunate you managed to elude
those savage human hordes, unscathed.”
“Any
news from Nual-Deu?” Moorg pretended to care.
“Horrible
I’m afraid.” the old man whispered “They did spare all of our women and
children, but almost all of our men were killed. Humans were too…”
“I’ll make
sure they pay for this.” Moorg interrupted him “Where is my ride?”
“H…here,
of course. Follow me.”
Massive,
iron doors led into the enormous cave. Almost unbearable, loud racket of
howling, growling and barking, coming from the enclosure in the middle of the
den, made Moorg cover his ears.
“I must
apologize to my king, but these are still young and wild wolves. We just
acquired them.” the old goblin took a bow “Let us move.”
Just to
the right of them were numerous stalls, made out of rocks, mud and wood. Moorg
never saw this many wolves in the same place. He couldn’t resist but to pause a
bit, admiring these beautiful animals. Some of them were wearing saddles and
leather armors, covering their heads and chests. They looked frightening.
“These are
our military wolves.” the old man explained, leading the king further down the
cave “As you can see, we train many sorts of these animals.”
Goblin
moved through the short hallway, and into a much smaller cave, with just a
single pen in it. Two goblins were putting a saddle onto a very imposing wolf.
Its beautiful, grey mane, showed he had a royal treatment. With the yellow eyes
and long white fangs, he looked almost demonic.
“He is the
pride of our modest establishment.” the old goblin cheerfully stated “He is the
wolf for the kings.”
Moorg
mistrustfully approached the wolf, scratching his neck. But it looked as if the
beast was ignoring him.
“Let him
smell you. Show him who’s in charge.” the old goblin said.
Goblin
king listened to him, but the wolf still wasn’t moving. Moorg was impatient,
pushing the wolf’s head, and his chest. And he made a mistake, by turning his
back away. Angry beast reacted instinctively, trying to bite the goblin. Strong
jaw almost closed, when all of the sudden, medallion inside Moorg’s pocket,
warned him of an immediate danger. Goblin king moved aside with unbelievable
speed, as he turned around, violently hitting the wolf straight in the muzzle.
Animal whimpered, moving away from the Moorg. But the goblin wouldn’t let him,
as he hastily approached. Only now, Moorg gently patted his head.
“Sorry my
friend.” Moorg whispered.
Wolf
understood him, licking his hand. Old goblin cheerfully squeaked, applauding
the king.
“Nicely
done, your highness.”
“I need
him ready in ten minutes.” Moorg said “And the food rations for at least two
weeks.”
“May I
ask, where are you heading sir?” the old man humbly asked “I could assemble an
escort.”
“Only
food, thank you.” Moorg answered.
Moorg
wasn’t going to share his plans with anyone, let alone an old wolf handler. And
the old goblin understood that, knowing to stop questioning. Besides, with the
loss of a battle and the city, the king must’ve had a lot on his mind right
now. Old man couldn’t be much further from the truth. Moorg didn’t care about
that stinking hole, which was Nual-Deu. With the power he will gain, with the
help of his amulet, the goblin king should be able to choose where to live and
rule. But before he could do that, he had to go towards Zhinnaeg, the first
destination he received in his vision.
Wolf was
finally ready, and Moorg hastily mounted him. Followed by the cheers, they
dashed through the meandering corridor. Short, monotonous ride through the
tunnel lasted just about a minute, which the goblin king used to accommodate
the wolf. And the beast responded to him quite well, as they flew out of the
cave, fast as an arrow. Moorg turned around looking for any known landmarks.
To the
left was Vaang, river of two faces, as they would often call her. Very wild,
dangerous and unpredictable at its upper flow, through the narrow canyons. It
was filled with many rapids, cascades and waterfalls, following the mountainous
region. Until it reached the flat, unvaried swamplands, where Vaang transformed
into a calm, and somewhat peaceful river. By following it upstream, the goblin
king knew they would eventually reach its springs in the mountains. And there,
nearby, was Zhinnaeg, the orcish settlement. Wolf immediately understood
Moorg’s intentions, as he took a turn towards the northern part of Tanmar.
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