Legends of Belariath

U`Thunk

U`Thunk’s Journal - Days 22 - 24

An unusual event today.

I was sitting at a small table to the back of the inn when Slag, the wise shaman, gestured for me to approach him. I was a little surprised by this, as I know how most shaman hate to fraternize with goblin outcasts. Never the less, I know that disobeying a shaman is an offense to the Blood God, so I headed straight for his table.

This is an unusually kind shaman. He seems to be focused on the well being of others, especially of attractive young females. I would think that this was lecherous but, of course, shaman would not behave in such a fashion.

At any rate, he sipped his tea for a moment, and then asked me to sit down. I obeyed, a little too quickly, for I knocked the table and splattered his tea around. I must learn to control my nerves in social situations! As my teacher Pug’yula once said, “the unsteady whip will always miss its mark.”

Slag wished for me to go on a quest for him. Apparently, a young girl of his acquaintance had been abducted from The Lonely Inn of late and he was eager for her to be found. He made it quite clear that I was only to locate the girl, not try and rescue her. I tried to explain that such concern for my well-being was unfounded, as I was more than capable of protecting myself, but he was steadfast.

Thus, I swore an oath to find and protect the girl. The mighty shaman summoned up an image in a small sphere of the lass, a striking girl with unusual tattoos around her eyes. I studied her image for a moment and surmised she was probably between 5’10” and 6” tall and, from her posture, most likely a slave.

I decided to set out immediately. I headed up to my room and changed into the fine chain armor that noble Ehlanna had provided for me, strapped my katana to my side and made sure that my whip was easily accessible in my pack.

As I headed outside, I saw the lovely Ehlanna – breathtakingly beautiful as ever. She was talking with Elowyn, the nymph who taught me so much about throwing daggers. Let me pause for a moment here to say a word about Elowyn. She is as noble a being as I have met here. Honest, lovely, and in the full flow of pregnancy. She will, no doubt, make a fine mother and set an excellent example for her children. The father is a very lucky man.

I kneeled before my flawless patroness and offered her my pouch of cash and my main journal and asked her to keep them safe for me. I would have asked for a favor, but my voice caught in my throat. Some great god must have been smiling on me, however, for Ehlanna kissed me on the cheek and wished me luck in my quest.

Feeling now as if my mission had been blessed, I walked steadfastly out the door and into the courtyard. It didn’t take long to find signs of several struggles. I noted, with some concern, what appeared to be a sign of struggle. Massive prints, possibly an ogre or a troll, and delicate prints, like those of a young lady, converged, but only the huge tracks left. Based on the space between the young lady’s footprints, I concluded she must have been fleeing from the large being. This was clearly the sign I was looking for.

I set off after the huge tracks immediately. Frankly, I had a very easy time following this trail. The huge being made no attempt to cover his trail at all, almost as if he wished to be caught or, worse, wasn’t afraid of being found. With this in mind, I tried to be as stealthy as I could. Alas, the chain armor made this difficult. I found myself wishing I had worn my old leather armor, but knew this would be an insult to my fair patroness.

I journeyed most of the day and found myself in the foothills of a northern mountain range. (I must remember to ask Slag the name of this range at some point) Here, I climbed a large oak and made my “camp,” such as it was, for the night.

Day 23

I awoke at the break of dawn and continued following the tracks, deeper into the mountains. Finally, around mid-day, I was following a narrow trail between two mountains (almost a miniature valley) when I heard an angry bellowing ahead. I could clearly hear a voice yell “go ahead, call for help,” and the last word echoed around the valley.

Master Pug’yula always said that when you are facing a larger enemy, you must immediately claim the high ground. I am not much of a climber, but I managed to reach a small ledge about fifteen feet above the trail. From this vantage, I was able to peer ahead.

There I saw the back of a large, naked ogre, perhaps nine feet tall. I blush to write this, but at first glance, he seemed to be “pleasuring himself.” However, he soon turned violently in my direction (not noticing me fortunately) and I realized that he was in the process of having his way with a battered looking young lady, perhaps an elf. Alas, it was clear to me that she was not the lady I had been tracking, and, from the sparse nature of the camp, I could tell he had no other hostages.

My first thought was “escape while you can.” Alas, I heard the pitiful sobbing of the girl. She was begging him to let her die. I admit that most goblins are not known for their empathy, but something about her voice reminded me of Ehlanna. I imagined that this poor victim might be as noble as her. Looking over at the scene again, I saw that the ogre’s legs were covered with blood, clearly from where he was violating the girl.

I felt “the sea of red” flow over my eyes. The world was reduced to the ogre and I recalled being taught about the most vulnerable places on their body, specifically their lower back near their kidneys. I imaged myself leaping from the ledge and impaling my katana in his sides. Adrenalin rushed through my veins and I started shaking with excitement.

Then I sat with my back against the rock and let this pass. The unsteady whip will always miss its mark. I might manage to mortally wound the ogre in this fashion, but I would then be unprepared for a counter attack. Thus, I closed my eyes and centered myself. My hands stopped shaking and I could feel “the sea of red” lifting. I opened my eyes and looked around more carefully.

There were several large boulders that could easily be pushed onto the brute, but this would require him to be beneath them (and for the unfortunate victim to not be beneath them). I noted that there was really only one way out of the ogre’s camp area, and that was the trail from which I had approached the ogre. I then heard goblin voices coming down that same trail, calling out to their master. The ogre bellowed, “hurry up or you’re going to be sticking your meat into a corpse, lads.”

My plan came to me instantly. I prepared my whip and, as the goblins were about to pass beneath me, I cracked it at a pile of boulders and rocks (perhaps a trap set up by the ogre himself, or perhaps a natural occurrence) across the way from me. At once, the rocks poured into the tiny valley, burying the whole lot of goblins. I hate to do harm to my own people, but so many of them have been corrupted by poverty and…

Well, I have ranted about this already and don’t need to record my thoughts on those matters again at this time.

The ogre reacted with characteristic stupidity at the avalanche. He dropped the girl and lumbered over to the pile of rocks. An audible moan arose from the pile of boulders so, with a grunt, the giant started pulling them off the pile, cursing.

This gave me the chance to scale the wall to the lady, who turned out to be a nymph. Her clothes were shredded on her body, exposing her entirely. She appeared to have suffered all manner of indignities, including branding, slicing and beating. Her wrists were tied together and she moaned weakly when she saw me, no doubt thinking she was about to be violated by a “vile goblin.”

Not having time to rescue her in a more dignified fashion, I put her wrists around my neck and, with all my strength, scaled the wall of the mountain again to my friendly ledge. I was a little worn out by the climb, but took the time to remove my cloak and wrap the girl in it. I tried to tend swiftly to the most serious of her visible injuries, which provoked some small protest from her, as those injuries were in private areas.

When I tore off part of my cape and started bandaging a large gash around her upper thigh, however, she must have realized that I was trying to help her, for she broke down in the most pitiful sobs I’d ever heard and started mouthing the words “thank you” over and over. I was quite moved, actually.

Alas, this touching moment was not to last, for I suddenly heard an angry scream from bellow. Looking down, I saw the ogre pacing about his small rock grotto, frantically. It was clear to me that he had noticed his “toy” was missing.

Ogres are stupid, but even an ogre knows that if there is nowhere to go but up, that is where one goes. It would only be a matter of time before the much stronger creature was up here again, at which time the girl would surely be killed, not to mention this author.

Pug’yula, my master, always taught “save yourself.” My instincts, and my training, taught me to abandon the girl and flee. I looked at her, terrified, bleeding and violated in the most cruel and horrible ways. I pointed to the south and, in a low tone, said “go.”

With that, I let the battle lust possess me. “The sea of red” covered my eyes and I leapt from the ledge, katana drawn onto the ogre. I landed on his side with great force, his immense bulk breaking my fall and gravity driving the katana deep into his body. The ogre fell to the ground, but swiftly returned to his feet. My weapon was embedded too deeply into its body for me to get it out in time.

Raising his mighty fist, the ogre hit me with the force of a falling tree. I believe I must have flown back through the air about five feet, landing roughly on my back. Only the weight of the chain armor prevented me from flying into the mountain’s wall. I reached for my whip, but grabbed the wrong end. The ogre approached me for what would surely be the killing blow.

I felt I should cower or beg, but instead found myself looking at him defiantly. I muttered a curse that I will not repeat here. The ogre raised his fist again.

Then, much to my surprise, the fist burst into flames. The ogre screamed in pain and surprise and looked for the source of the fire. Standing on the ledge above him was the nymph, who gestured angrily towards him again. I’m sure it would have been more strategically useful for her to set his head on fire, but I confess I was not surprised to see the Ogre’s manhood erupt into flame. She gestured once again, and the ogre’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he fell over, asleep. His hand and his private parts continued to burn until there was nothing left of those parts of his body.

Alas, the exertion of the spells was too much for the nymph, and she toppled from the ledge and landed on the ground with a sickening crunch. I rushed over to her and heard a sickening gurgle coming from her as she tried to breath.

“Are you… a healer?” she asked.

“Nub… me can set broken bone, though…” I said, my eyes filling with tears.

“Too late for that… Goblin?”

I nodded.

“Don’t let it die… make it live like that… that will be worse than…”

She started coughing up blood and a look of serenity came over her face. She started quietly mouthing what must have been a nymph prayer through her pain. Finally, the light left her eyes.

Day 24

With my humiliated and badly wounded ogre captive in tow, I started heading back to the inn with the sun’s rise. I made him carry the dead nymph, my cape now her death shroud. The ogre started a high-pitched litany of the foulest insults at me, at the nymph and at cruel fate as we headed down the mountain pass.

When we arrived at the forest, I tied him to a large tree and, with my hands, dug a grave for the nymph. I don’t know if there are special parts of the forest that nymphs prefer, but this seemed to be a peaceful, quiet area. I imagined that she would have liked it in life.

The ogre continued to curse me, so I stuck a large rock in its mouth. Humiliated, bound and disfigured in a most unmanly way, he was dragged back to the inn. Perhaps somebody there would know how to best dispose of him.

(Translated directly from Goblinese)

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