Kubluk nodded, and strolled forwards, his eyes taking in once again the sheer majesty of the impossible room. Before him stood two stone doors, smooth as marble, stretching upwards seemingly infinitely into the dazzling light above him. Unsure as to how he would ever move such an edifice, he pressed his hands against one of the doors. As if made of feathers, the door swung open at his touch, deathly silent despite its enormous size.
Instantly, a blinding light flooded his vision, forcing him to raise a hand to protect his eyes. He blinked furiously, struggling to adapt his vision to the ethereal glow. Finally, he lowered his hand, and stepped into Nomoddon.
The chamber was vast in size, a wide circular bowl surrounded by a number of seats and tables constructed from the same unearthly material as the epic doors he had just passed through. Around each table sat a number of strange figures, covering a vast plentitude of sizes and shapes, ranging from a small bug-like creature smaller than he was, to a vast bear-headed behemoth that stood thirty feet tall, biting ferociously into a chicken leg of similarly vast size.
Kubluk looked around the chamber, and realised he recognised some of the beings. Oshar, the goddess of fertility fluttered her eyelashes at the strangely mishapen form of Ber Avus the swamp god. Doron, God of Lucky Shots laughed with a group of wolfmen, his strangely angular bow slung idly across his back. Shin, Lord of the Easily Forgotten was patting his pockets with an air of desparation, scratching his head with a furrowed brow. Kubluk couldn’t even begin to recognise the thousands of other beasts that congregated in the enormous chamber, but, he supposed, all races had their own religions. All creatures believed in something, he thought, be it a great beard in the sky, or a winged shape falling from the sky with hunger in its eyes. Here they must all come to be.
The gods of Nomoddon were deeply involved in their feasting, and it was several moments before he was noticed.
“You!” A boar staggered over on its hind legs and shoved Kubluk in the chest with a rather drunken wobble. “I don’t recognise you. Who are you?”
Kubluk furrowed his eyes. “I am Kubluk. Who are you?”
“You’re telling me, (hic) that you don’t recoil in fear from the mighty Udar! I am King of the Grove By The Tree. Twenty follow my every whim. Where I order, so they follow.”
“Twenty?” Kubluk asked, puzzled.
“My tribe is twenty strong, but soon another litter will be born, and our numbers shall grow.”
“Hang on, litter?” Kubluk inquired, even more puzzled.
“I am Lord of the Grazing Herd, the Guiding Hand of the Cattle that Dwell.”
Kubluk was beginning to suspect that all this capitalisation was a bit uncalled for. “Let me get this straight. You’re the god of a small herd of boar that live under a tree?”
“Well? What of you, tiny Kubluk.” The boar-god once again poked Kubluk with a stubby finger. “Tell me of your mighty deeds and accomplishments.”
Kubluk paused, but found his mind working surprisingly quickly. He puffed out his chest, and began to speak.
“I am Kubluk, Leader of the Caravan. Where I point, over a dozen wagons, over a hundred dwarves, and thirty mules must go. I lead my dwarves to safety through swamp, plain and canyon. I bow to no slugman or undead. I am Kubluk the Captain!”
The boar looked momentarily puzzled, then staggered off in a different direction, taking another swig from the flagon held in its paws. “Nice t’make your acquaintance Kubluk.”
From behind him came the sound of breaking crockery. Kubluk looked down as several pieces of half eaten fruit rolled past his feet. He turned quickly, and found himself looking into the eyes of Moist Vetek the Damp, who stood mouth open, eyes wide in surprise, with an apple in his hand.
“You!” Kubluk cursed.
“You?!” Moist responded with surprise.
Author
Topic: The Captain's Log- Spiritwood (Read 61708 times)