Legends of Belariath

Gul`gol

A G`ost's tale

The creature lingers in the shadows of the tree, watching, noting what was going on beyond the boundaries of the forest. The female he watched was unlike any other he had ever seen before. To him, she was strange, having skin lighter than the lantern in the sky, soft bluish tint. Looking over her hair, he was amazed at the brightness of it, as if painted with another form of light, not understanding nor being able to describe the color correctly. dwarves might call it gold, but he only knew that it was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen himself.

Knowing she would be frightened of him, he did not move, only watched her from the leafy underbrush. Not normal was the best description for the creature, not a creature of the light, he had grown up in the caverns of the Nethergloom. Not a creature of the dark, for his existence was an anathema to those with whom he existed. No he did not live, he existed, he survived. Much of his existence was due to luck and very little to anything else, save the will to live. So that is what he did, that is what he decided to do, he would survive and until the chance came, he would seek something better, something different and hoped that he would find something powerful that would change his life.

Crouching in the lee of the tree, his mind wandered backward in distance, depth and time. To a time many years in the past, for his race was long lived, yet he was no more mature than the young human on the verge of adulthood. His mind replayed his earliest memories. the pain, the strike of leather against young flesh. the screams that this brought on, the screams that resounded through the tower in which he lived and he dared to call his home. The echos still rang in his dreams as he would sleep. sleep peaceably for the first time in much of his life. in this strange world he now slept without waking fears, except it seemed as if it wall a hopeful dream..

His black eyes showed great pain as that barbed whip landed for the tenth time, he knew this one was more out of frustrations of a mixed up spell than something the half breed had done wrong. it was as it always was, and it seemed that it would be. Only when the man slept, did the one known as gul`gol know respite. It was during these times, he would steal into the books to learn to read and learn of various herbs and fungi. perhaps to one day poison the man and escape. but to where, outside this tower, he would be nothing but fodder. even traveling in the company of the man, he still feared for his life, wondering how much longer the man would be allowed in this dark place, knowing then that his life would be merely play for the noble denizens of this place..

Keeping his head down, to protect his face and features, to complete it perfection as he needed no more deformities, his body was that which was not perfect, somewhat deformed, in his mind, though it would not seem so to some. He had elven features about him, his face and ears, though one was deformed, bent over, grown together nearly. His eyes were deep expressive pools of black that would draw one into them and trap them to gobble them up, but were lit with a sapphire light that belied a calculating intelligence. His skin was that of a corpse, a pale grey that if he were seen in public they would think him a hunched back animal that walked with a near apelike or gorilla like gait. Sometimes it was almost as if he mimicked a crab. Yet in the privacy of night, one would see a noble, walking, proud and regal. One was a disguise, the other was who he would be..

The first time, he knew the thong of the leather cat o nine tails with the barbs, he was merely a few years old. His eyes had seen his benefactor's disgrace by another noble of the city. having been prepared to serve from the room next to the sitting area, the noble had thrown a drink in the mans face and stormed off, her hips swaying with an authority and demeanor that said nothing less than a high priestess. Later he would learn that she had been his mother and thus he would blame her for the second pain she had brought him in his hhortlife Watched from the shadows as she walked out, his benefactor slammed open the door and called his name..

gul`gol...what..were you spying on me, boy? i will not have that..

The whip was drawn before the boy even realized that he was the subject of the man's ire. never having viewed him as more than a provider, he was not as shocked as he should ahve been when that whip first met his back, tearing the shirt that he wore to shreds and opening wounds. his mistake was running, or at least making the attempt to run. When this happened, the strikes became harder. When reprieve came, it was at the exhaustion of his provider, versus any semblance of mercy. This was only the first of such stories that ended up on his back.

That night he dreamed of his coming here to this man and this tower. IT was a short dream, it was a dream of flying, screaming and hatred. he did not know what it meant but it came to him often. The cause of the dream was simple. born of a mad goblin and a drunk matriarch, he was immediately thought cursed and cast to winds out the window, for he was not worthy of sacrifice, even as the third son. For a time, he was a bird, then his wing was clipped and his cries followed him down. Saved by a corpse delivery, whose perfect timing was due to a delay from a parade to celebrate his birth a day early, hastily thrown together and as quickly cancelled. Landing in the pile of corpses, rotting and decomposing, he was saved by a rotund dwarven warrior who had died valiantly defending a large barrel of his finest ale only to be slain by a knife in the back. A few days old the corpse was being delivered by a corpse gatherer who supplied various bodies to several of the lesser renown necromancers for exorbitant prices. The landing of this baby on the belly of the corpse caused a great squelching expulsion of liquids and gases as the form collapsed, gave way, cushioning the landing and saving his life. Forever, he would remember dwarves fondly..

Later, he was found in the stomach cavity of the corpse and for a time, it was thought that the corpse was female and that he was some demonized form of drunken dwarven copulation. It was only after several years when he grew up thin and nearly hairless that it was realized he was dark elf descended and of goblin heritage. And thus it was this dream that would follow his first, but definitely not last, whipping.

Almost a daily occurrence, the man would provide such lessons to the half breed. Many times it occurred with such regularity that he could time the days by the beatings. Many required healing beyond the ability of the provider himself and thus a healer was called, paid well and dismissed with no discussion on the cause or reasoning. Only healing and wound tending, no conversation allowed. Once, gul received a salve and a whispered word would be to apply it to soothe the pain. never used, he would remember her and when the time came, the woman an halfbreed as well would be remembered. always, it was the half breeds that he found most compassion from and therefore learned a trust with them that no other could provide him..

From that first beating, gul devised methods to block out the pain, then eventually, he tuned it out completely, leaving pain to no longer affect him. Often he would have to fake feelings and emotions as to not wear the man out and have him figure out his new skill. The floggings continued for years and years, he grew up in the hands of this man until he found the courage to escape. Long had he planned to do it, though he did not know how or when he would be able to do it. It was only on an unusual day that he was able to discover the method to his escape, a simple task surprisingly gave him opportunity and method..

Sent to gather herbs that could only be gathered during the highest ascendency of the great fire orb in the sky, his benefactor would not go himself. Not that he trusted the boy to do it on his own, he sent a spider minion after him to watch over him. moving out fo the cave, looking for a certain herb used in the necromantic rituals, he knew he had to travel a great distance. Knowing full well that he was not alone, he continued as if nothing was amiss, moving through deadfalls and various obstructions to slow the follower, he would move into the shadows and disappear..

The eight legged pursuer moved around a dead fall and could not believe its luck. It had lost the creature. this creature was nothing that should have been able to escape but somehow it had and now it had to find it before if could return homes Moving its legs to a more level ground it would scurry along. It saw the rock a second too late but managed to move a bit so that only a few of its legs were broken the first blow. it made some sort of keening noise as the rock was lifted again and came down on its body, cutting off its short life before it could send a message back to its master. though it was certain that its master would know before its life was extinguished, it felt a bit of remorse that it failed. .

gul`gol lifted the rock a third time to mash up the body even more and then he started running from the scene, afraid that his benefactor would come immediately to him, but he ran and ran. his eyes trying to adjust to the light as he dodge around these living columns with their rough texture. moving carefully, he would then spy the blond creature and as she moved off collecting herbs, he would follow to see where she would lead him. Lead him she did, not far, for he would see a spring. Into it she dove and became one with the water. Never to see her again, but he rushed the pool when she did not surface and he looked frantically around for her, but he could not see her. he did not know how to swim or he would have been swimming after her. Extremely distraught he thought that he was the cause of her throwing herself into the pond to drowned. He did not know of any creatures like the naiads who lived and frolicked in the waters. never having met one, he thought she surely drowned and leaving the pond, he did not hear her splash upwards and sit up on the rock. she had seen the tear in his eye and was coming to console him, he was not that bad looking she thought, even as he walked away with that strange gait like one of her crab buddies..

Gul`gol moved deeper into the forest, finding the shadows comforting and not quite as confining as the caves but not as hurtful as the fire orb in the sky. Moving carefully, he would randomly pick berries and herbs as he did, pocketing some and eating others. However, he felt a hunger for meat in his stomach as he moved and began looking for some creature to capture and devour. Looking this way and that, he did not realize that he was making a great deal of noise and would not find anything that way. He was used to moving over rock in the nethergloom..

Arriving at the edge of the forest, he would see a building of some sort. Sniffing the air, he would find a hunger well up inside of him that he had never known. One the air there was a smell of some delicious meat being cooked and he would move his way towards it. His hand automatically pulling the cloak tighter about his head, he would move slowly forward and push open the door. No one was about but on the hearth in a pan he heard sizzling something that smelled delicious. Looking into the pan, he would see the strips of some fatty meat cooking on there in a pool of what he assumed was fat. Looking around, he saw a larger slab of the meat and moved to it. Taking his sickle out, he cut about a third of a chunk off it. Moving to the pan, he reached into it with his sickle and scooped up the slices, not quite crispy yet, he would let them hang from the blade as he moved towards the door hurrying along. Exiting, he heard the scream of a troll like voice and the crash of pans against the wall. `Ort, yous still mah bakin' `No ah deed...oof' more crashing. gul`gol moved off into the night, but would sit watching this building for many days, always sneaking in for a bit of `bakin' when he smelled it on the air. he saw a myriad of people coming and going, even a few mixed breeds, he wondered if this place could be a place for him. On a whim, several days later, he moved to the entrance away from the kitchen, pulls his cloak tight around his naked form, hood firmly against his head and placed a delicate and long fingered ghoulish hand on the door and pushed his way into The Lonely Inn..

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