Rakust hefted his spear and flung it with a frustrated howl. The tip pierced the soft flesh of the earth by Imimi's foot. The elf made no move to dodge, but merely placed his hands together in a gesture of peace. Rakust hobbled over to the spear and yanked it out of the ground. Without further comment, Rakust limped away, leaving the two elves alone with their dead. He stopped only to cut a piece of bone from the sheep devil's shattered skull.
Hushedpoison, 14th Felsite, 367
Nguslu Hellgully stared out across the valley from the fortress' edge. She wasn't entirely alone; guards now watched the corridors beneath her. As she contemplated the countryside, she helped herself to a goblet of sacramental wine, freshly pillaged from a human temple. Goblins might not have much taste for the grail berries it was brewed from, but they did appreciate alcohol just as well as dwarves.
"Looking for someone?"
Nguslu would have turned, but for the piece of sharpened bone pressed against her throat. She swallowed, and her collarbone nicked the blade's edge. Nguslu glanced down at the hand holding the knife; it was decked with bone rings.
"You're quieter than I would have expected, Rakust," she said.
"I'll take that as a compliment," said the goblin holding the blade. "Your pet gives his regards."
"I just wanted a little assurance that Imimi wasn't going to get away. Where is he, anyhow? I'd have expected him back before you." The hand holding the blade wiggled a finger which conspicuously bore one more ring than she had remembered from the last time she saw it. "Ah."
"I'm sure he'd have dealt with all your problems," Rakust growled. "And hey, maybe if he'd jumped me before trying to storm a retreat full of elves he'd have done me in, too. Tough sheep to slaughter, that one."
"Rather the point," sighed Nguslu. "And is Imimi dead?"
"Imimi's power is broken," said Rakust. "Your devil did his job well. But I've lost the appetite for murder now. Well, nearly." He pressed the demon-bone blade further into Nguslu's flesh. She could feel it cutting into her skin.
"If you kill me," she said, "you'll never find out who betrayed you."
"You don't understand. I'm going to kill you because you betrayed me. The only thing stopping me is the chance that you'll tell me who betrayed me first." Nguslu did not immediately answer, so Rakust pressed harder with the knife.
"Alright, alright," she said. "The one who betrayed you was your own master, the Dark Lord of the Ruthless Scourge." Rakust's fingers stiffened at the news. He let out a mirthless chuckle.
"And to gain that vengeance I would have to slay another whole people to get to him, and our race would fall even further into shadow. Well played, your Darkness. Well played." Nguslu let out a snort of derision.
"And now you'll kill me because I'd kill me," she said. "But before you do, grant me this knowledge. What will you do with your freedom?"
"What I said I would," promised Rakust. "Build. Carve out a life of my own. Escape from the cycle of vendetta. Be free."
The blade was withdrawn from her neck. Nguslu turned, drawing her own poisoned blade from her belt, and caught a brief glimpse of a goblin decked in wolfskin furs before his fist collided with her temple and everything turned to grey. By the time she awoke she was alone again.
15th Felsite, 367
Freedom is a terrible thing. I was cast out from the Ruthless Scourge upon my freedom, renounced of my ties with not even the clothes upon my back. As a slave, I knew wealth and success, but I fell foul to betrayal by own master. When I left, I was friendless and alone.
In some ways I still am. If I were to think on it, there is but one person in all my journeys I could call a friend, Innu of Dellpets, and the tragedy is that I gained his friendship by the loss of his wife. I go now to him, to hold him to the promise he gave freely, and to hold a dwarf to a promise enforced. These last five months I have travelled from east to west and back again, I have slain great and terrible beasts and I very nearly became one.
Freedom is a terrible thing, because it comes with the choice to determine your own life. Nobody can tell you what is right, what you must do. Many will try, but the essence of freedom is making those choices for yourself. So I write this as a free man, free from the anger that consumed me, free from the violent cycle of revenge. I know who betrayed me now, but I surrender my vengeance so that I may yet live.
My name is Rakust Wardedhawks, and I am free.
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Topic: Goblin Manor (Fortress) - Wardedhawks, The Home of Heroes (Read 17889 times)