Ozmodious
06-03-06, 12:46 PM
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"Death is not the end, it is just a minor inconvience." - excerpt from The Law of Greenfinger by Galabt Heeb
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"Who could it be?!", Madij howled in frustration as he tore parchment after parchment scribbled with theories and pasted with photographs off the paneled, wooden wall. The goblin began to pace back and forth, staring at his problem with yellow, bloodshot eyes. The claustrophobic, narrow room that the mage had rented three fateful days ago was webbed with darkness, the occasional candle was positioned carefully away from the window. The choking atmosphere of paranoia and fear seemed to exude from the little goblin ever since he had first stepped onto the surface of Ettermire.
It hadn't even been my idea, they forced me to come up here!, thought the bewildered scientist, his mind continuing to slush about in the dome atop of his cranium. Sweltering with frustration the goblin walked over to the bed and sat down hard, the springs creaking loudly, putting his hands over his face the goblin tried to recall how he had gotten here in the first place.
***
The tang of muddled filth slapped Madij Abarrik's taste buds as he strolled alone into another dark passageway of the sewer, causing the goblin to gag with disgust. He had caught wind of foul chemicals that smelled like rotten eggs, the scent of spoiled Hmbrik milk that seemed to seep from dubious samples of slime, even the rank odor of death has passed through the hooked nose of funny, little creature but nothing had ever prepared him for the collected waste he had to walk by more then once every time he had chose to go to the surface or the Yzæk citadel. The premier had been ordered by the Sovereign himself to head to Ettermire and go to a conference over the strange, unrelated reports of viral outbreaks that seemed to link themselves back to the Yzæk and their rivals and serve as his 'mouth'. The meeting would be arbitrated by an offical from a neutral organization to keep all those present of the two syndicates from ripping each other apart, which was probably a good idea because of all those going to be present, Madij wasn't eager to find out how sharp their claws were.
Gagging helplessly on the odor the premier stopped, pulling a piece of dark, clubbed moss from his robes, put it between his nose and mouth, closed his eyes and sucked the sweet nurturing scent of Nature into his nostrils. After a moment the headache he had began to develop seemed to dissapate and the curious moss was attached back onto his clothing, bringing a sense of relief along with it.
Glancing over his shoulder, Madij saw three giant, rabid rats quarrel over a piece of rancid meat that floated in the stream of waste dug between the two cobbled pathways. The scene made the goblin nostalgic for his protector, Grux, who had gone ahead to wait at the surface, scouting for any signs of trouble. Being just out of telepathic reach, Madij hadn't heard from the mutant in over two hours, but the biomancer was convinced his creation could take care of itself especially in Ettermire. But as the mage turned into another passageway he glanced at the crude ladder that led from the aqueducts to the sunny surface and knew something was wrong. If Grux was on the surface and Madij was in this area, the two would be within range but unlike Grux's common greeting to his master whenever the goblin approached, there was dead, awkward silence.
Strolling carefully to the ladder, the causeway lit with dim, blazing torches offered little light but it gave the goblin a sense of safety as he placed his clawed fingers onto the cold metallic bars and stared upward at the sunlight that poked omniously through the sewer grate, and began to climb. Very few people kept track of how long it took them to climb a ladder, but Madij Abarrik had reached the surface in under six excruciating seconds. Placing his long fingers through the holes in the sewer grate the goblin pushed with all of his might, causing a scrape of metal upon metal as the grate was pushed out of the way.
Climbing the last few feet to freedom, the biomancer was blinded by the blazing sunlight as he pushed himself onto the street above the aqueducts. The goblin blinked furiously as his eyes watered, having adjusted to the Yzæk lighting, he hadn't been onto the surface in five long years. But as he opened his feral eyes expecting a welcoming scene from his servant Grux who he would berate for not contacting him earlier was instead a filthy alleyway cluttered with garbage, but the mutant was no where to be found, only a small delicately rolled up piece of aged parchment placed carefully in the center of the alleyway. Jumping to his feet the premier rushed over to the parchment and picked it up, pulled the crimson bow and began to unroll the parchment, hoping for something to lead him to his companion, but what he read caused a wave of confusion and paranoia to wash over him.
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, AND NOW YOU ARE NEXT.
Staring at the unplaced handwriting Madij rolled the parchment back up and looked around the alleyway bewildered. Rolling the threatening message back up, the biomancer placed it into a pocket inside his robes. A tingling sensation on the back of the premier's neck along with the cold wave of realization that washed over him, Madij Abarrik knew he was no longer safe and no longer alone. Slowly turning around he looked up and squealed in fright, whatever it was the scene caused the goblin to dash out of the alleyway and into the busy streets of Ettermire.
***
Opening his eyes slowly, the goblin removed his hands from his terror-struck face and stared at the single photograph that was omniously placed at the center of the wall. A face Madij knew all too well stared back at him with cold, black eyes. Shaking his head, cackling to himself he muttered," It can't be him, hes dead!"
Rising to his feet, the nervous mage staggered over to the satchel he always kept with him, opening the flap he dug into the pack and pulled forth a large ball of moss. Crouching to his knees the goblin closed his eyes and held the mossy orb to his lips and whispered," Jal'-Habelak."
The strange ball of moss began to quiver, setting it carefully on the table the goblin stood back a couple of feet. The strange thing shook and groaned as grassy limbs pushed from either direction. A head began to sprout as well, with small beady red eyes taking in the careful gaze of his master. Standing on its own two feet the animated chunk of moss stood waiting, about the size of a baseball. Strolling over to the door Madij gave orders to his minion through a sequence of thoughts. Turning the knob to the door the goblin opened it slowly, revealing an empty hallway. As the moss-man jumped from the counter it had been placed on, landed onto the floor with a wet slurp, and rushed through the door into the hallway and disappeared into the darkness. Closing the door behind him the goblin sighed, and began to pace back and forth again his thoughts concentrating on the situation unfolding before him, already aware of the path the small Beruga-man would take and could only hope help would arrive soon.
"Death is not the end, it is just a minor inconvience." - excerpt from The Law of Greenfinger by Galabt Heeb
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Who could it be?!", Madij howled in frustration as he tore parchment after parchment scribbled with theories and pasted with photographs off the paneled, wooden wall. The goblin began to pace back and forth, staring at his problem with yellow, bloodshot eyes. The claustrophobic, narrow room that the mage had rented three fateful days ago was webbed with darkness, the occasional candle was positioned carefully away from the window. The choking atmosphere of paranoia and fear seemed to exude from the little goblin ever since he had first stepped onto the surface of Ettermire.
It hadn't even been my idea, they forced me to come up here!, thought the bewildered scientist, his mind continuing to slush about in the dome atop of his cranium. Sweltering with frustration the goblin walked over to the bed and sat down hard, the springs creaking loudly, putting his hands over his face the goblin tried to recall how he had gotten here in the first place.
***
The tang of muddled filth slapped Madij Abarrik's taste buds as he strolled alone into another dark passageway of the sewer, causing the goblin to gag with disgust. He had caught wind of foul chemicals that smelled like rotten eggs, the scent of spoiled Hmbrik milk that seemed to seep from dubious samples of slime, even the rank odor of death has passed through the hooked nose of funny, little creature but nothing had ever prepared him for the collected waste he had to walk by more then once every time he had chose to go to the surface or the Yzæk citadel. The premier had been ordered by the Sovereign himself to head to Ettermire and go to a conference over the strange, unrelated reports of viral outbreaks that seemed to link themselves back to the Yzæk and their rivals and serve as his 'mouth'. The meeting would be arbitrated by an offical from a neutral organization to keep all those present of the two syndicates from ripping each other apart, which was probably a good idea because of all those going to be present, Madij wasn't eager to find out how sharp their claws were.
Gagging helplessly on the odor the premier stopped, pulling a piece of dark, clubbed moss from his robes, put it between his nose and mouth, closed his eyes and sucked the sweet nurturing scent of Nature into his nostrils. After a moment the headache he had began to develop seemed to dissapate and the curious moss was attached back onto his clothing, bringing a sense of relief along with it.
Glancing over his shoulder, Madij saw three giant, rabid rats quarrel over a piece of rancid meat that floated in the stream of waste dug between the two cobbled pathways. The scene made the goblin nostalgic for his protector, Grux, who had gone ahead to wait at the surface, scouting for any signs of trouble. Being just out of telepathic reach, Madij hadn't heard from the mutant in over two hours, but the biomancer was convinced his creation could take care of itself especially in Ettermire. But as the mage turned into another passageway he glanced at the crude ladder that led from the aqueducts to the sunny surface and knew something was wrong. If Grux was on the surface and Madij was in this area, the two would be within range but unlike Grux's common greeting to his master whenever the goblin approached, there was dead, awkward silence.
Strolling carefully to the ladder, the causeway lit with dim, blazing torches offered little light but it gave the goblin a sense of safety as he placed his clawed fingers onto the cold metallic bars and stared upward at the sunlight that poked omniously through the sewer grate, and began to climb. Very few people kept track of how long it took them to climb a ladder, but Madij Abarrik had reached the surface in under six excruciating seconds. Placing his long fingers through the holes in the sewer grate the goblin pushed with all of his might, causing a scrape of metal upon metal as the grate was pushed out of the way.
Climbing the last few feet to freedom, the biomancer was blinded by the blazing sunlight as he pushed himself onto the street above the aqueducts. The goblin blinked furiously as his eyes watered, having adjusted to the Yzæk lighting, he hadn't been onto the surface in five long years. But as he opened his feral eyes expecting a welcoming scene from his servant Grux who he would berate for not contacting him earlier was instead a filthy alleyway cluttered with garbage, but the mutant was no where to be found, only a small delicately rolled up piece of aged parchment placed carefully in the center of the alleyway. Jumping to his feet the premier rushed over to the parchment and picked it up, pulled the crimson bow and began to unroll the parchment, hoping for something to lead him to his companion, but what he read caused a wave of confusion and paranoia to wash over him.
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, AND NOW YOU ARE NEXT.
Staring at the unplaced handwriting Madij rolled the parchment back up and looked around the alleyway bewildered. Rolling the threatening message back up, the biomancer placed it into a pocket inside his robes. A tingling sensation on the back of the premier's neck along with the cold wave of realization that washed over him, Madij Abarrik knew he was no longer safe and no longer alone. Slowly turning around he looked up and squealed in fright, whatever it was the scene caused the goblin to dash out of the alleyway and into the busy streets of Ettermire.
***
Opening his eyes slowly, the goblin removed his hands from his terror-struck face and stared at the single photograph that was omniously placed at the center of the wall. A face Madij knew all too well stared back at him with cold, black eyes. Shaking his head, cackling to himself he muttered," It can't be him, hes dead!"
Rising to his feet, the nervous mage staggered over to the satchel he always kept with him, opening the flap he dug into the pack and pulled forth a large ball of moss. Crouching to his knees the goblin closed his eyes and held the mossy orb to his lips and whispered," Jal'-Habelak."
The strange ball of moss began to quiver, setting it carefully on the table the goblin stood back a couple of feet. The strange thing shook and groaned as grassy limbs pushed from either direction. A head began to sprout as well, with small beady red eyes taking in the careful gaze of his master. Standing on its own two feet the animated chunk of moss stood waiting, about the size of a baseball. Strolling over to the door Madij gave orders to his minion through a sequence of thoughts. Turning the knob to the door the goblin opened it slowly, revealing an empty hallway. As the moss-man jumped from the counter it had been placed on, landed onto the floor with a wet slurp, and rushed through the door into the hallway and disappeared into the darkness. Closing the door behind him the goblin sighed, and began to pace back and forth again his thoughts concentrating on the situation unfolding before him, already aware of the path the small Beruga-man would take and could only hope help would arrive soon.