It was dark in the cave when Murime arrived. That did not say much, though; it was always dark in the cave.
Inside the cave was a gathering unlike any seen before, a host of beasts that would make any Kobold wail and scream. The cave was full of monsters; Troglodytes and trolls and dragons and bears and horses. When the mighty bronze statue arrived, however, all turned and bowed their heads in respect.
"What is it, Murime?" Said the dragon named Akusk, looking impatient. "Why have you called us here?"
A troll snorted with derision. "You know why. We are here to discuss The Terror of the Amber Eyes." The very words sent murmurs and shivers of fear through the gathered crowd. They all knew about the one the troll spoke of; The Terror, a ferocious beast that stalked their kind from the shadows - invisible, unknowable, a horrid monster that spat piercing spikes and slaughtered its foes with a claw made of the earth itself. The troglodytes, in particular, bellowed in fury - they had lost a great many kin to the beast.
"You are correct, Jarthi," The Bronze Colossus bellowed, the metallic words echoing through the cave. "Never before has there been a greater threat to us. Yesterday, even wise Lord Wory fell before the monster." The news rippled throughout the cavern, bringing new murmurs and cries of fear and mourning. Wory had been among the mightiest of dragons - if he could not best the Terror, surely none of them could.
"Truly, this is a great loss." Intoned Akusk mournfully. Wory had been like a father to him. "This defiance cannot go unpunished. For too long, we have waited, as this monster hunts us. No longer!" Akusk was roaring now, working himself into a frenzy. "I propose we hunt down this , as it has to our kin, and make it suffer as it has to u-"
The dragon was interrupted when a barb flew from the shadows and impaled him in the throat, sinking deep. Immediately he fell to the ground and began to drown in his own blood.
The others roared in shock and began to search the shadows for the assailant, to no avail. More barbs weaved their way from the shadows, another falling with every shot. Sometimes, with their last breath, they could make out a small figure dancing through the shadows, amber eyes burning through the dark. The cavern had become a place of fear and death - everywhere those assembled turned, they were confronted by the bodies of their comrades and the dark, the all encompassing, nightmarish dark, once their greatest ally, now become the vehicle of their destruction.
Briefly the cavern was loud, filled with the whistling of barbs, the spurting of blood and the screams of the dying. At last, all was quiet. Only Murmime was left - once the King of the beasts, now ruler of an empty kingdom. His body was savaged and dented. He pulled himself to his feet.
"Where are you, Terror?" He cried. "Face me as a warrior!"
From the shadows stepped a small figure, clad in bones, carrying a long, pointed stick that shined like the stars. Murmime could not believe his eyes - this avatar of death was simply a kobold, of the kind he hunted and enslaved. Words failed him. He simply glared at the kobold, and the amber eyes glared back. The small figure hefted his spear.
"For my people."
My humble offering to this piece of greatness made flesh. Keep writing, good sir!