[This is the first story I've posted here, so I hope y'all like it! All events happened pretty much as I told them.]
AN ACCOUNT OF THE BODY OF THOLTIG TEKKUDMUTHIR
On the first of Granite, year 1051, seven dwarves were sent to an island where no living thing should be. The island and the surrounding sea were said to be cursed with an unspeakable evil that could not be overcome. The reason these seven dwarves were sent here is a mystery, but many believe they had each committed terrible acts and this was their punishment.
“What did you say we were calling this place?” Tholtig shouted across the wagon.
“Merchantpaddled,” came the reply from the expedition leader.
“Why in Armok’s name is it called that?”
“You don’t want to know. Now shut up and go get us some fish. There has to be something edible out there in that gods-forsaken sea.”
Tholtig grabbed his rod and walked over to the shore. The water was a murky green, but at least fishing meant he didn’t have to walk around on the disgusting grass that grew on this island.
He looked down the shore and spotted another one of the dwarves attempting to fish as well. Tholtig tried to remember the dwarf’s name, but he couldn’t. There was Vucar the mason, Avuz the farmer, Olon the miner, Vabok the woodcutter, and Stukos the expedition leader, but Tholtig somehow had missed the name of this dwarf. Deciding that he really didn’t want to have to handle anything that came out of this water, Tholtig strolled over to the other dwarf.
“Hey, buddy, what’s your name?” Tholtig asked.
“Likot Ritral,” the other dwarf responded.
“This place sure is terrible. But I guess it could be worse, eh?” Tholtig said, failing to fake a smile.
“Yeah, at least we’re…not…” Likot’s voice trailed off, as he looked out towards the ocean.
“Hey, what is it?” Tholtig asked, fear creeping into his voice.
But Likot only continued to gaze out into the ocean. Tholtig followed his gaze and that’s when he saw it.
It first appeared to be a large shadow way out at sea. Tholtig figured it must have been a cloud. But as it neared, it’s shape became more and more distinct, looking like an enormous leaf that had been partially burned. Then it neared the surface and there was a terrible noise, like sound of a thousand guts being spilled open at once. A huge gyser of the foul water, laced with blood and pus, shot up into the air and rained back down upon the sea.
Tholtig took several steps backwards and saw it. It looked like it may have once been an adult sperm whale, the largest natural animal known to dwarven kind. But it had clearly died many years ago, as it was missing several chunks from its body and it lacked any skin at all from its pectoral fins to the base of its tail, trailing what looked to be its intestines behind it. Tholtig gasped as he noticed that Likot was still standing at the shoreline, paralyzed with fear.
“Surely it will be unable to come on shore. Such animals can only live in the sea.” Tholtig assured himself. But this animal had stopped living many years ago, and was not bound by mortal rules. In horror, Tholtig saw the beast crawl up the shallows and tower above Likot. As it raised its tail about the doomed dwarf, Tholtig turned and ran.
A brief yelp and then a sickening squelch sounded behind Tholtig. Then a loud crashing noise began pursuing him. He could see the other dwarves sitting by the disassembled wagon, organizing the supplies, and for a moment he thought he might be able to make it. But then he tripped.
Turning to see his pursuer, Tholtig only had time to raise his arm in a feeble defense as the massive monster’s tail came rushing towards him. It smashed into him with such a force that he was launched many feet through the air and skidded along the ground. His mangled body came to rest directly beside the other dwarves who were only able to look in shock as their comrade’s life left his body. The dwarves all looked up to see the undead sperm whale Mersethatol return to the ocean as an acrid ooze began to rain from the sky.
And then, slowly, Tholtig’s body began to move once more.
By the time the sun set, the corpse of Tholtig Tekkudmuthir had slain the remaining five dwarves. In doing so, it had earned its own name and legend. And so it is said that Blotflier the Plait of Revering still wanders that accursed island today, searching for life to snuff out.
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Topic: An Account of the Body of Tholtig Tekkudmuthir (Read 1988 times)