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| | [[Category:Humor and stories]] | | [[Category:Humor and stories]] |
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| − | ==[[User:Teriderol|Teriderol]]==
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| − | ===(30 October 2015)===
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| − | <pre>++!&!++@@@@|</pre>
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| − | The battle was bloody and short. Kogan's dwarven cavalry had come under attack by a group of goblins riding on vicious beak-dogs. Kogan and his dwarves slew many of them, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Kogan himself was tackled off the back of his mule by a leaping goblin commando. The villain held a dagger to Kogan's throat and the dwarven leader dropped his weapon.
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| − | “Where are you taking us?” asked Kogan.
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| − | “Shut up, dwarf scum,” said the goblin.
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| − | The dark tower was decorated with all sorts of works of art stolen from around the world. The villainous demon has taste, Kogan had to admit. Too few of his mule riders had survived. Still, they might be able to assassinate the evil leader given half the chance.
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| − | “Ah,” said a sinister voice, “the guests have arrived.”
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| − | Kogan and the remaining dwarves were shackled to a set of stone thrones and forced to watch as the demon danced its way into the room, shaking its limbs and many tails. Kogan was thoroughly revolted by the display as the demon came near. He had nearly worked his hand free of the shackles as the demon climbed on top of him.
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| − | “Are you ready to die?” asked the demon.
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| − | “You first,” growled Kogan.
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| | ==[[User:Termitehead|Termitehead]]== | | ==[[User:Termitehead|Termitehead]]== |
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| | On his way back to the castle the warrior swung the sword around his head, singing cheerfully as he skipped along. A small quick hand darted from the branches above and snatched the sword from his grasp. The warrior yelled and searched the trees above for a glimpse of the thief. A pair of yellow eyes stared back at him. A kobold! | | On his way back to the castle the warrior swung the sword around his head, singing cheerfully as he skipped along. A small quick hand darted from the branches above and snatched the sword from his grasp. The warrior yelled and searched the trees above for a glimpse of the thief. A pair of yellow eyes stared back at him. A kobold! |
| − |
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| − | ==[[User:TharinDuckskinner|TharinDuckskinner]]==
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| − | ===(12 September 2014)===
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| − | <pre>##@B######BgBgBg</pre>
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| − | The trunks of giant redwood trees rushed by as the bird riders dove in
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| − | and out of cover. Above the forest canopy, giant bats circled in the
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| − | night's sky, whilst down below the goblin army of Darkmaster the Evil
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| − | marched on, stopping every once in a while to take cover when the
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| − | dwarven bird riders launched their javelins. It was clearly a suicide
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| − | mission, but the bird riders were sworn to protect the dwarf fortress
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| − | by any means, even if it involved riding the elves' preferred steed.
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| − | “I'm sorry master Aliz,” said Kogan, “your nuthatch refuses to perform today.”
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| − | “What is this nonsense?” cried Aliz. “Since when do dumb animals
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| − | dictate how they should behave? I shall have the thing plucked!”
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| − | “Here, Sir Knight,” said Kogan. “Take my bushtit. He is
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| − | battle-tested and ready.”
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| − |
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| − | Mounting the giant brown bird, Aliz launched into the sky. He checked
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| − | and double-checked his javelin holster to see how quickly he could
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| − | draw the deadly missiles. It was a new moon that night, but it hardly
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| − | mattered. Darkmaster's bat riders used echo-location to pick out
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| − | their targets. The stars seemed shallow in the sky that night. Maybe
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| − | Aliz would die soon, but if he did he would die a hero
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| | ==[[User:Tharwen|Tharwen]]== | | ==[[User:Tharwen|Tharwen]]== |
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| | Doran looked down at his lunch. "I... I guess I'll finish the rest myself." | | Doran looked down at his lunch. "I... I guess I'll finish the rest myself." |
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| − | ==Twitch Eaglehart==
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| − | ===(14 January 2011)===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>,.nn,.n.,UM.,n.,.,nn,</pre>
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| − | In the pitch black of night the giant worms slithered through the town, gobbling up all who ventured out after dark. Thus it had been for a generation, ever since the stranger came to Rostfen. Losmo was his name. He wasn't much to look at, skinny, like most of the worthless drifters that came around there. He had a strange way around the women. No one liked him very much. Yet it was he who would change the town forever.
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| − | "Don't stay out after dark," said the shopkeeper, "the bogeyman will get you."
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| − | "What?" said Losmo. "I'll do what I please."
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| − | Chewing on dried plump helmet, Losmo pondered his next move. He needed work.
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| − |
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| − | "You need any of that clogh brought to market?" asked Losmo.
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| − | "Yes," said the shopkleeper, "but the sun is almost down."
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| − |
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| − | "I'll get it there by morning," said Losmo, "and I'll only take half of what your regular carrier would."
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| − |
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| − | The deal settled, the cloth was loaded onto a mule and Losmo was off, lantern in hand. The woods outside the town were chill and foggy. Night birds hooted and called. Losmo whistled a merry tune. The smile fell from his lips when a face appeared in the light before him.
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| − | "Losmo," said the creature, "you know better than to walk the roads at night."
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| − | Losmo threw back his cloak and drew a silver short sword.
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| − |
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| − | "Impressive," said the monster, "for a squire's toy. Now drop the blade. You know what happened last time."
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| − |
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| − | Sword in one hand, lantern in the other, Losmo lunged at his foe. Two more bogeymen appeared from either side. They were about the size of small dogs, black, and wore a mishmash of animal parts. The night was filled with an incessant cackling as the bogeymen fought. One after another, Losmo brought them down, each disappearing into a puff of black smoke. The laughter died away, but Losmo knew that the night was still watching.
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| − |
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| − | ===(6 December 2011)===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>N,,U|++u|</pre>
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| − | The elders of Rostfen gathered around the empty cart. Shopkeeper Martin was furious. He knew the stranger had tempted the Night, but did the darkness need to take his shipment as well? The elders reaffirmed the law and Martin was admonished. Burning with anger, he returned to Weaver House. There his eldest son Sam was waiting for him.
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| − | "Where did that man go?" asked the boy.
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| − | "Away," growled Martin. "That is the last we will speak of it."
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| − |
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| − | That night the air was colder than anyone could remember on a summer's evening. Martin stepped outside the shop to douse the lantern when someone stepped out into the light. It was Losmo. He looked more pale and starved than before if it was possible. Martin turned on him.
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| − | "Where is my cloth, thief?" asked Martin.
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| − | "Bogeymen have it," said Losmo.
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| − | "Bogeymen or no," said Martin, "you will get it for me."
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| − | "You want the cloth back at all costs?" said Losmo.
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| − | "Yes," said the shopkeeper.
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| − |
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| − | "And you will provide me with whatever I need to retrieve it?" said Losmo.
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| − | "Yes, curse you!" shouted Martin.
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| − | Losmo seemed to grow and darken like a black shadow.
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| − |
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| − | "Very well," said the phantom. "What is the sure way to defeat the bogeyman?"
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| − |
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| − | "To travel with a companion," said Martin. In sudden understanding, he reached for his walking stick.
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| − |
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| − | "Not you," said Losmo. "Him."
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| − |
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| − | The specter pointed its long white arm past the shopkeeper to the trembling boy standing in the doorway. "No! Not Sam!" begged Martin. But it was too late. He had already spoken his oath. He tried to block the doorway but Losmo brushed him away as he would an errant branch. He took the boy in his cold iron grip and dragged him out into the street.
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| − |
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| − | The next morning the elders gathered around the cart, now filled with cloth, neatly folded. Martin could not look at it. He vowed to slay Losmo and return with his son. The others just looked at him. It was dangerous to mess with the night, let alone tempt it thrice.
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| − |
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| | ==uggi== | | ==uggi== |
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| | "Just watch me," said Aliz. | | "Just watch me," said Aliz. |
| − |
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| − | ===(15 August 2015)===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>|SWo++g| gggggg\@%%%%%%%</pre>
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| − | "What is that disturbance in the formations?" asked Darquan.
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| − |
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| − | The old man was almost reptilian in appearance. He was peering into a
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| − | crystal ball with his lieutenant, a king cobra snake man, standing over
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| − | him. It was from his dark tower, in the heart of the poisoned marshland,
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| − | that Darquan commanded his goblin legions. Something was going wrong,
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| − | something the signs hadn't predicted. Looking closer at the disrupted
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| − | battle lines, Darquan discovered why.
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| − |
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| − | "But, he is just one dwarf!" exclaimed Darquan.
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| − |
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| − | "Look clossser," said the snake man. "He isss much more."
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| − |
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| − | Indeed, as the wizard watched helplessly in his tower a single dwarf hero
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| − | made his way through the goblin battle formations, axe first. Heads, arms,
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| − | and entrails were thrown into the clear air. The goblin commander, seeing
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| − | the hero heading his way, called for a general retreat. Darquan hissed and
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| − | dashed his crystal ball against the ground. A tame gremlin swept up the
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| − | pieces and put them with the others.
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| − |
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| − | "Ready my giant bat," said Darquan. "I shall deal with this mess
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| − | personally."
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| | ==Ulurius== | | ==Ulurius== |
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| | "Of course, Asmuk," said the young man, lounging on the wooden stool. | | "Of course, Asmuk," said the young man, lounging on the wooden stool. |
| | "How could you doubt me?" | | "How could you doubt me?" |
| − |
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| − | ==[[Urist McNuup]]==
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| − | ===(31 Oktober 2015)===
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| − | <pre>Hg,..,|+++@+@|</pre>
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| − |
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| − | The expedition leader, Kogan, was an unrepentant glutton. The assassin's thought themselves clever by poisoning his favorite dessert, sweet-pod pie. They didn't count on him feeding the first bite to his dogs. When his pets died, Kogan was furious. He called all his lieutenants to him. He would find the culprit if he had to execute every dwarf in the fortress.
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| − | “We had better go,” said Smelark.
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| − | “Wait until the first round of interrogations,” said Aliza. “If we flee now, he will know we are guilty.”
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| − |
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| − | The goblin didn't accept this wisdom. Smelark knew that if he waited to be captured he would be tortured for sure. If he had learned anything in the dark tower it was that he was no good under torture. He would spill the beans for sure. Ignoring Aliza's advice, he stole a horse from the stable and disappeared before dawn.
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| − |
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| − | “I will find him, my lord,” said Aliza.
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| − |
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| − | “It is a dangerous mission,” said Kogan, “shouldn't I send one of the knights?”
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| − |
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| − | “I know how this one thinks,” said Aliza. “I will bring him back dead or alive.”
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| | ==[[User:USP45|USP45]]== | | ==[[User:USP45|USP45]]== |
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| | booming. The sheriff knew something was up. It was only a matter | | booming. The sheriff knew something was up. It was only a matter |
| | time before the villain made a mistake. | | time before the villain made a mistake. |
| − |
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| − | ==[[User:Vasili|Vasili]]==
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| − | ===(23rd April 2010)===
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| − | <pre>UU+U++G.,,...</pre>
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| − | A knock came at the mead hall gate. A powerful blow, nearly tearing
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| − | the doors from their hinges. King Wrathbeard drew his sword and
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| − | strode to the entrance, flanked by his elite warriors. He nodded to
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| − | his men and they unbarred the door. The doors swung open, revealing
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| − | the enormous, heavily-muscled body of Grum, half-giant, lord of the
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| − | hills.
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| − |
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| − | "Where are my chickens?" growled Grum. "You are to offer me four
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| − | fried chickens on every Tuesday! Friday it is!"
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| − |
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| − | Wrathbeard stroked his whiskers. "What have you done for me lately,
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| − | Grum?" asked the king. "Goblins still haunt the highways. Jackal men
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| − | still harass my herds."
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| − |
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| − | Grum left the hall in confusion, sure he had been tricked. Back on
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| − | his hill, Grum watched as a carriage was stopped by goblin bandits and
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| − | the nobles stripped of their valuables. Feeling his stomach rumbling,
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| − | Grum stood and ran toward the highway.
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| − | "Where is the rest of the gold!" yelled the goblin.
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| − | The nobles coward, fearing for their lives. The goblin raised his
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| − | whip, better to lash them again. A huge hand caught him by the wrist.
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| − | Grum tossed the goblin into the air. The nobles screamed. The half-giant scowled.
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| − | "I will have my chickens," he said, "whether you live or die."
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| − |
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| − | <pre>%~%+%~%+%+++G++\U+||</pre>
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| − | Suddenly, one of the nobles took on a sly look. He was thin, weak looking man in dark robes. The others backed away as the dark noble approached.
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| − |
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| − | "Who promised you chickens, friend?" asked the noble.
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| − | "King Wrathbeard give Grum chickens," said the half-giant.
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| − | "Well, Grum, my friend," said the noble, "Baron Gravesly knows that King Wrathbeard lies to Grum and eats all the chickens himself!"
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| − |
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| − | A powerful blow knocked the mead hall doors off their hinges. The warriors jumped to their feet and reached for their weapons. The half-giant leapt inside and sent men hurtling through the air. The king stepped out of his chamber, half naked, a sword in his hand. The mead hall was a bloodbath, the half giant gasping, looking for more men to kill.
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| − | "Grum!" commanded the king. "Why have you this?"
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| − | "Wrathbeard," said Grum through a mouth full of slobber. "You ate my chickens."
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| − |
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| − | Anger burned in the king’s chest. He ground his teeth with the thought of that striver besting him. He attacked the giant, slicing the monster across the face, slashing out an eye. Grum cried out in pain, and the king struck again, but the blade bounced off the creature’s rib. Wrathbeard raised his blade to strike once more, but his luck had run out. Grum dashed out the king’s brains with one vicious blow.
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| − | King Gravesly’s reign was one of terror and tyranny. All feared "Gravesly’s Dog," the evil monster that plagued both noble and commoner alike. It was into this sad place, that an adventurer appeared, a young man, slight of build, but with the appearance of inner strength. The peasants looked on him as he rode to town. Could he be the one to save them?
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| | ==[[User:Vattic|Vattic]]== | | ==[[User:Vattic|Vattic]]== |
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| | As he passed through many lands, his anger would not fade, for it was as large as he was. He did not usually care for what he stepped on, but this time was different. He stopped for a moment and looked below. Underneath his foot was a tiny speck. He pinched it up and held it before his eyes. It was a giant tortoise. | | As he passed through many lands, his anger would not fade, for it was as large as he was. He did not usually care for what he stepped on, but this time was different. He stopped for a moment and looked below. Underneath his foot was a tiny speck. He pinched it up and held it before his eyes. It was a giant tortoise. |
| − |
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| − | ==[[User:Zesty|Zesty]]==
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| − | ===(June 2011)===
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| − | <pre>||~@++%||@++++</pre>
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| − |
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| − | "I am innocent of these crimes!" cried Fuglin as he was dragged away. Sitting in the dungeon cell, he could recall the cheers of the dwarves as the judge pronounced the verdict. It wasn't fair. The adamantine wasn't his. He was just holding it for somebody. Now in prison, he was left to rot. A guard stopped by his cell and poured a cup of gruel on the cold stone floor. Anger and despair were all he felt now. From now on he dared not hope.
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| − |
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| − | --
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| − |
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| − | It had begun as such a small thing. Fuglin and the goblin had known each other since the construction of the fortress. Fuglin was young then.
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| − | One day Fuglin visited the goblin, this time locked in the stockade.
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| − |
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| − | "You know the path through the stone?" said the goblin. "The one we built as children? You must go there and bring me what you find. It is the key to my release."
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| − |
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| − | ===(July 2011)===
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| − | <pre>,.,.,.,.,@|#######&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&</pre>
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| − |
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| − | The space was not built for more than a child, a narrow, twisting tunnel winding its way through the foundations of the fortress. At the bottom, Fuglin saw a light, a silvery glowing rock at the end of the tunnel. This must be it, thought Fuglin, a bribe to set the goblin free. Hastily, Fuglin took up his pick and chiseled off a piece of the silver metal.
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| − |
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| − | Something lay beyond the tunnel. A hole the size of a dwarf's fist opened where Fuglin struck. He could hear a strange howling within, no doubt another subterranean jungle. The dwarf didn't stay to find out. He squirmed as fast as he could, finally reaching the exit where he found the goblin, free from his bonds.
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| − |
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| − | "You survived," said the goblin. "Keep the adamantine as a token of our friendship."
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| − |
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| − | "Wait!" cried Fuglin, but the goblin had disappeared.
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| − |
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| − | ===(October 2011)===
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| − | <pre>@@@@@,.,o@,..##||#&#&#&&&&#&</pre>
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| − |
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| − | What happened next was hard to say. There was a lot of smoke and fire. Dwarves ran screaming through the fortress. Captains shouted orders to soldiers they could not see through the clouds of burning vapor. Fuglin was scared beyond reason. He tried to follow the others, ducking when the monsters swooped down.
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| − |
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| − | It seemed it would never end, then Fuglin came rolling out of the fortress gate just as another fire blast rocketed overhead. As it was, the demons could not, or would not set foot outside the fortress. What few dwarves that were left gathered at the hills below. Fuglin recognized a blacksmith which with he had apprenticed. Before he could speak the blacksmith pointed his finger.
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| − |
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| − | "He is the one!" the dwarf cried. "Look! He still has the rock in his paw!"
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| − |
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| − | Fuglin looked down, having until now forgotten the adamantine in his hand.
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| − |
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| − | ===(July 2014)===
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| − | <pre>@g+0++0++0++0++0++0++0++<</pre>
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| − |
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| − | "You have a visitor," said the prison guard.
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| − |
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| − | It was the goblin, dressed in a dark cloak. Fuglin had blamed his
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| − | fate on the goblin, but now that he saw him it all seemed so
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| − | pointless. In the morning, he would go to the hammerer to be forged
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| − | anew. Fuglin began to wonder why the goblin showed up at all if not
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| − | to gloat at his handiwork.
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| − |
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| − | "Take this glass pill," said the goblin, holding out his hand, "and
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| − | bite down with your teeth. Death will come swiftly."
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| − |
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| − | The goblin dropped the pill into Fuglin's open hand. The fluid in the
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| − | green glass capsule looked black and foreboding. Still, it beat a
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| − | humiliating public execution. The goblin turned and left without
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| − | saying another word. Fuglin put the pill in his mouth and bit down
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| − | hard. A moment's dizziness was all he had time to experience.
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| − |
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| − | "Where am I?" asked Fuglin.
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| − |
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| − | "Quiet," said the goblin. "We are in the catacombs. The dwarves
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| − | believe you committed suicide."
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| − |
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| − | "But I did commit suicide," mumbled Fuglin.
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| − |
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| − | "You can take that up with your deity later," said the goblin. "For
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| − | now we must get you out of these funeral shrouds and escape before we
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| − | are discovered."
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| − |
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| − | ===(October 2015)===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>g@,.,.@@@></pre>
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| − |
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| − | Why had he been rescued? Fuglin was a traitor and had to be forged anew, but to do that, he had to die. The goblin held his hand as they exited the tomb. There was a family of dwarves mourning just outside. As they passed, the goblin held Fuglin close, pretending to be lovers lost in grief. It worked this time, but in order to start a new life, they needed Fuglin to exchange his sackcloth for real clothes. The goblin led Fuglin through a maze of corridors to the fortress market.
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| − |
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| − | “You look like a scribe to me,” said the goblin.
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| − |
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| − | “Like those creeps that spend their whole lives in the library?” complained Fuglin.
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| − |
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| − | “Forget your old life,” said the goblin. “That is what it means to serve in the Order of Nadir.”
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| − |
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| − | ===(November 2015)===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>+++@p|</pre>
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| − |
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| − | Writing prose under the pen name Robinor, Fuglin began his new life as a scribe. Life was different out in the periphery. The monastery where the scribe worked was built into a hillside deep in the Forbidden Forest. Not many people would risk a journey there, but Robinor's works ended up being so skillful and filled with such beauty that he gained the one thing he could no longer afford, fame.
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| − |
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| − | None of the brothers spoke to Robinor as they had all taken vows of silence, but the dwarf could still tell that they were pretty mad about all the visitors they had been attracting lately. Robinor greeted his fans with the humility one would expect from a monk, but it was easy to tell that the dwarf was succumbing to the sin of pride.
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| − |
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| − | One day, Robinor was praying in the shrine to Nadir when a bird landed on the creepy statue of the god of the depths. It was a parrot, out of place in the cold northern climate. Robinor stood on his feet and walked over to the statue.
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| − |
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| − | “Pretty bird,” said Robinor. “Pretty bird.”
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| − |
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| − | “You are all going to die,” said the parrot.
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| − |
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| − | === (December 2015) ===
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| − |
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| − | <pre>pg+++@+</pre>
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| − |
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| − | “What?” asked Robinor, stupidly to the bird.
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| − |
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| − | “Fuglin,” said the parrot.
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| − |
| |
| − | The monk's face went white as a sheet. Someone had taught the parrot to speak these words, someone connected to his old life. The scribe, Robinor, had thought he had left all of that behind. Occasionally a dwarven survivor from Robinor's old fortress would appear at the monastery, but they never recognized him. This was something far more sinister. It had to be the goblin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You have a visitor,” croaked a monk.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Your holy vow?” asked Robinor, panicking.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “See for yourself,” said the monk. “Then you will understand.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | It could only be one person, the phantom from the past. The goblin stood at the entrance of the building, the parrot on his shoulder. He smiled at Robinor as he approached.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Fuglin!” said the goblin. “It's been a long time, my friend.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I am no longer that person,” said Robinor. “I have a new life here.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You have the life I gave you,” said the goblin, the smile fading from his lips.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (January 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>,.@,@@.@,.MMg[@</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The king has grown attached to the writings of this 'Robinor,'” said the goblin. “This puts you, Fuglin, in the unique position to get close to him. You remember this?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The glass pill was unmistakable. The black fluid danced inside as the goblin shook it in Fuglin's face. It was the ill-fated dwarf's job to poison the king in any way he could. When Fuglin went to retrieve his writing material, the goblin took him by the arm and removed him forcibly from the building. He would not be needing any of that stuff where he was going. Fuglin fell silent as he boarded the wagon that the goblin drove with its team of mules.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | On the way to the capital many travelers stopped the wagon to ask if the dwarven monk was indeed the famous Robinor. The dwarf writer allowed himself to forget the evil quest he was on. Word spread quickly of the scribe's journey to see the king.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You better do what you're told,” warned the goblin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (February 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>|~@+|~g+|+++++++|@@++%|</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Robinor,” exclaimed the king, “it is a great honor!”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “It is all too much,” said Robinor, fumbling with the deadly pill in his pocket.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The king clasped the monk's hand and pulled him into his private chambers. The goblin watched ominously as the door closed, sealing the two dwarves inside. Waiting patiently, the goblin eyed the royal guards which flanked the doorway. There wasn't a lot of room to move if this went badly. Just then, the door swung open.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The king!” cried Robinor. “The king is dead!”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Drawing their weapons, one guard went inside while the other guard arrested Robinor and the goblin. The king had apparently collapsed on the floor. There was a black smear on his lips. The guards took the monk and goblin down to the dungeon to await their fate. When they were separated, the goblin didn't say a word. Robinor didn't know which was worse, to be executed for destroying the fortress, or for regicide.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (March 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>@@|+++!!%!!</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “It was all the goblin's doing,” cried Fuglin to the lead investigator. “Where is the king's body?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Tell me more about this goblin,” said the detective. “How long have you known him?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “We grew up together,” said Fuglin. “He was always getting me in trouble. Where is the king? There still might be time to save him.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You are telling me that the great Robinor is actually the famous traitor, Fuglin the Feckless?” asked the detective.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “That's me! I'll admit to all my crimes,” said Fuglin, “but for forge's sake, just take me to the king's body before it's too late.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The king was cremated this morning,” said the detective.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The familiar sinking sensation took hold as Fuglin struggled to accept his situation. The detective collected his scrolls and left Fuglin alone in the holding cell. Fuglin reached into his mouth and pulled out the green glass pill. There was still enough poison for one last dose. He wondered if anyone would be there to wake him this time.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (April 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>|%++N++@|</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | It was cold and dark in the catacombs. Fuglin was shocked that the dwarves had fallen for the same old trick, or was the joke on him this time? The goblin wasn't here to guide him out of the dark tunnels and Fuglin was buried alive. He slid out of the alcove and shed his funeral shroud. It was dark and creepy and Fuglin could sense the dead bodies all around him in various states of decay.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I am not Fuglin,” said the wretched dwarf. “I am Robinor.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You mean the famous poet?” said a voice in the dark.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The same,” said Robinor after a moment's terror. “Tell me, are you not dead?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “As dead as the writer who took his own life, twice!” said the ghoulish stranger.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “How is it that you live down here?” asked Robinor.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I will show you,” said the ghoul.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | It was difficult to make out the monster in the dark. It looked basically like a dwarf, but stooped and sickly. Robinor followed him to a grave where the family had left gifts as an offering to the dead. The ghoul took some of the morsels of food and shared them with Robinor.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “A good haul this time,” said the ghoul.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (May 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>,.,.|@+@g++++!@!@!@!@</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | This was not the fate Fuglin would have chosen for himself. He lived for weeks as a ghoul in the darkness of the catacombs, all the while wishing he could write about his adventures as Robinor. In time, a custodian came to dust off the bodies and Fuglin was lurking nearby. It was the goblin! Fuglin picked up the femur of a decomposing skeleton. When the goblin approached, Fuglin lifted up the bone and prepared for the killer blow.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I know you are here,” said the goblin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Stopped in his tracks, Fuglin lowered the bone. He wanted revenge, but more than that, he wanted a way out. The goblin explained to Fuglin how the king's evil adviser had put his own son on the throne and ordered the mass executions of the king's supporters. If Fuglin left now, he could easily escape in the confusion.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Crowds of angry dwarves moved up and down the corridors with torches in their hands. None seemed to notice the humble beggar and his goblin friend. When they reached the fortress gate, they found it closed.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “No one is allowed in or out without doing obedience to the rightful king,” said the gate guard.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Which king is the righteous one?” whispered Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (June 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>,.~~,~.g,,@,.~,.</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Prince Phlega is the new king,” whispered the goblin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “All hail King Phlega!” shouted Robinor.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Once they were outside the gate, things became strange. There was a reddish mist all around, and the trees were dark and foreboding. It was said that the land and the king were one. If so, this Phlega could be counted among the most wicked to ever sit on the throne. Robinor remembered the stories of how the prince used to torture his servants as if they were the animals he constantly abused. Now his evil had begun to pollute the natural world.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “We have to stop this,” said Robinor.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I have saved your life twice now,” said the goblin. “Where is your sense of loyalty?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The sky itself is bleeding,” cried Robinor. “How bad are things going to get before you are satisfied?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (July 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>@|@++@@@@+</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You and I serve the same master,” said the goblin. “It is K'ung, the outer darkness, the chaos without end that existed before light and life.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “It cannot be,” said Fuglin. “I renounce this evil!”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | A lighting bolt struck nearby and Fuglin was temporarily deafened. The goblin was trying to say something but Fuglin couldn't make it out. The red clouds above began to swirl. It seemed like the tales of old and the Nightmare Apocalypse. Nowhere was safe as the gods abandoned their sinful creation. Fuglin knew what he had to do. He trudged back toward the castle through a torrent of blood.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “No more petitioners,” said the guard at the gate.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Can't you see?” asked Fuglin. “The world is about to end!”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The dwarf looked like he had been rolling in filth. No one was sure where he had come from. The petitioners said he just walked out of the woods like that. The guard decided to turn him away, rather that having to deal with the smell while arresting him.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You are making a big mistake,” cried Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (August 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>~\@~~g~</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “You are cute,” said the goblin, “trying to save the world after all you have done to turn it out to the Master.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Standing in the puddle of blood rain, soaked with filth and gore, Fuglin didn't really have an answer for the goblin. All he knew was that he had to do something. The goblin looked so smug, standing there in his fancy cloak. He was probably pleased with his creation, the monster, Fuglin. The dwarf nearly forgot the femur that he held tightly in his fist. The goblin laughed, revealing a shining gold tooth. That was enough for Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “This has nothing to do with K'ung or the kingdom or anything!” shouted Fuglin. “You invented Robinor so you could get rich, and now you back King Phlega so you can be counted among the high and mighty!”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Fuglin,” said the goblin, “how many times have I saved your life over the years? You owe me.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “I'll show you what I owe you,” growled Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (September 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>~%~@~~U~</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | It was over in an instant. Fuglin had only hit him once, but that was enough. The dwarf knelt down and tried to wake the goblin, but he wasn't breathing. It was the ultimate sin: to betray one's benefactor. Though, as many times as the goblin had got Fuglin out a jam, he had usually been the one responsible for the mess in the first place. Now he was dead. Fuglin had no idea what to do now. He looked into the broiling sky and its many open portals to K'ung. Maybe it was time to rejoin the endless chaos.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Robinor!” cried a woman's voice.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Yes?” asked Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The young lady didn't look too much better off than Fuglin, but these days no one did. She wore a man's tunic, covered in blood spatter. Fuglin dropped the broken bone when he saw her staring at it.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Did you kill him?” asked the woman.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “He was a bad person,” explained Fuglin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Of course,” said the woman. “My name is Rose. You should come with me.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | === (October 2016) ===
| |
| − |
| |
| − | <pre>UUUUU.U.@[=]HH</pre>
| |
| − |
| |
| − | There was a carriage waiting on the highway just out of town. Fuglin followed the stranger, Rose, as she boarded the covered carriage. The poor dwarf was glad to be out of the gory rain. It seemed a shame to ruin the plush interior of the carriage, but Fuglin was far from complaining. He looked back out the window. The goblin's body was just around the corner. Fuglin thought he would probably be reincarnated as a slug for his crimes.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “There are some friends down the road a ways,” said Rose. “They would be glad to met the famous poet, Robinor.”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “And the murderous traitor, Fuglin,” said the dwarf, “would they be glad to see him?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “The time has come for you to make a choice,” said Rose. “Will you serve the light, or the darkness of K'ung?”
| |
| − |
| |
| − | There was a stone chapel up ahead. They were far enough from the capital that the powers of K'ung gave way to sunshine. Rose offered Fuglin a fresh robe and he changed while Rose walked up to the chapel door. He stood by the carriage as Rose returned with a crowd of surly looking fighters.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | “Tell us, oh Robinor,” said Rose. “How can this evil be undone?”
| |
