08-01-2013, 10:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-01-2013, 10:36 PM by ProjectRandom.)
OOC WARNING: There's some pretty heavy violence in this. Just a heads-up.
Zernzaz, the cheery, humorous Goblin that most people love. Some might envy him for not seeming to have a care in the world, with no pain in his heart. He was never very good at articulating himself, and always came across as an unintelligent slob.
The enigmatic green man grunted in frustration as he finished this thought, trudging himself into the treacherous clay desert of the Blasted Lands. There was a strange hollowness he felt in his head, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd had something to drink; his lips were chapped and dry and his tongue was cracking. He had not slept, but his eyes were still wide open, restlessly following the tracks of the one he'd been searching for all these years. The trail seemed to go on forever, disappearing into the endless plains. They twisted and looped, almost as if she had been wandering aimlessly. She - Absinthe - the one person he'd ever loved, was close at hand. He couldn't stop now, even if his body needed it. He was going to find her, and save her. This was the day.
Even though his search for his long-lost partner had spanned over ten years, he hadn't actually been actively searching for her at the moment when he saw her beckoning to him. She was still wearing the dress she had been wearing when she'd left Kezan, never to be seen again. That is, until now. Zernzaz smiled weakly to himself at the memory. She hadn't changed a bit - come to think of it, it was if she hadn't aged at all.
But that didn't matter. All that mattered to the hapless Goblin was not feeling the cutting loneliness he had felt ever since she left.
And then he saw her. Just behind a rock some yards away, there she was, beckoning to him. She did not speak, but this meant naught to Zernzaz; his love was discovered at last.
"Absinthe!" Zernzaz wailed. He started forwards, in a sprint. But she ducked behind the rock, disappearing from sight. He cried out her name again, and advanced past the rock. There was again, in the distance, beckoning.
"Absinthe.. please!" Zernzaz croaked desperately, stumbling tiredly into the trap.
Zernzaz barely had time to react as the huge group of raiders burst out from the rocks around him in a charge. Humans - they had tracked him into the Blasted Lands, looking to steal his things under the guise of "driving out the Horde threat". Zernzaz froze as time seemed to slow to a crawl, as he drew his scimitar and his dagger, spinning them about in his hands. In the distance, he could see one of them near Absinthe. It was time to act.
The first raider fell to Zernzaz's sword without him even fully acknowledging it. He simply spun around, slashing down in the direction of the man's artery, strafing out of harm's way as the raider fell on his face, blood gushing out of him. The goblin turned his head just in time to parry the broadsword coming for his head, using his dagger. And with his scimitar, he slashed open the other attacker's stomach, backing up out of the way of the falling entrails. More and more raiders were flooding toward Zernzaz, each time falling to the green swordmaster in a gorey heap. Zernzaz felt a pain in his throat as he mercilessly cut down man after man; he saw the terrified expressions on their faces, even though they had him hopelessly outnumbered. Then he realized why; Zernzaz realized he had been screaming the whole fight.
Not screaming in terror, but in anger; in desperation. He was so close to the one thing that mattered to him and these men were in the way.
And they were going to die for it. They were all going to die.
That they did - when only one man stood in Zernzaz's way, the Goblin almost casually sunk his dagger into his chest and left it there as he continued to where Absinthe was.
"A-Absinthe! I be search for y-" Zernzaz stopped, staring in shock at the revelation that Absinthe was nowhere to be found. He gasped, refusing to believe it. But she was gone, and as Zernzaz looked around, he could find no sign of her. Then he noticed..
The tracks he had been following were gone. He realized, furthermore, that they had never even been there in the first place. Zernzaz reached into his shirt and took out the golden locket, flipping it open and looking at the picture of Absinthe as the realization he had been following a dehydrated illusion for days washed over him, as well as the realization that he had just cut down a dozen innocent adventurers that noticed him barely conscious and close to collapse in the desert. They had only reacted when he killed the first one that was rushing to his aid.
He fell onto his bottom, pushing himself up against a boulder. He stared at the picture, his grip wavering as he felt himself beginning to cry. He had never cried since he was a child - and couldn't now. He was so dehydrated that he couldn't produce tears.
Zernzaz gasped to himself rapidly, crying tearlessly.
"Absinthe.."
Zernzaz, the cheery, humorous Goblin that most people love. Some might envy him for not seeming to have a care in the world, with no pain in his heart. He was never very good at articulating himself, and always came across as an unintelligent slob.
The enigmatic green man grunted in frustration as he finished this thought, trudging himself into the treacherous clay desert of the Blasted Lands. There was a strange hollowness he felt in his head, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd had something to drink; his lips were chapped and dry and his tongue was cracking. He had not slept, but his eyes were still wide open, restlessly following the tracks of the one he'd been searching for all these years. The trail seemed to go on forever, disappearing into the endless plains. They twisted and looped, almost as if she had been wandering aimlessly. She - Absinthe - the one person he'd ever loved, was close at hand. He couldn't stop now, even if his body needed it. He was going to find her, and save her. This was the day.
Even though his search for his long-lost partner had spanned over ten years, he hadn't actually been actively searching for her at the moment when he saw her beckoning to him. She was still wearing the dress she had been wearing when she'd left Kezan, never to be seen again. That is, until now. Zernzaz smiled weakly to himself at the memory. She hadn't changed a bit - come to think of it, it was if she hadn't aged at all.
But that didn't matter. All that mattered to the hapless Goblin was not feeling the cutting loneliness he had felt ever since she left.
And then he saw her. Just behind a rock some yards away, there she was, beckoning to him. She did not speak, but this meant naught to Zernzaz; his love was discovered at last.
"Absinthe!" Zernzaz wailed. He started forwards, in a sprint. But she ducked behind the rock, disappearing from sight. He cried out her name again, and advanced past the rock. There was again, in the distance, beckoning.
"Absinthe.. please!" Zernzaz croaked desperately, stumbling tiredly into the trap.
Zernzaz barely had time to react as the huge group of raiders burst out from the rocks around him in a charge. Humans - they had tracked him into the Blasted Lands, looking to steal his things under the guise of "driving out the Horde threat". Zernzaz froze as time seemed to slow to a crawl, as he drew his scimitar and his dagger, spinning them about in his hands. In the distance, he could see one of them near Absinthe. It was time to act.
The first raider fell to Zernzaz's sword without him even fully acknowledging it. He simply spun around, slashing down in the direction of the man's artery, strafing out of harm's way as the raider fell on his face, blood gushing out of him. The goblin turned his head just in time to parry the broadsword coming for his head, using his dagger. And with his scimitar, he slashed open the other attacker's stomach, backing up out of the way of the falling entrails. More and more raiders were flooding toward Zernzaz, each time falling to the green swordmaster in a gorey heap. Zernzaz felt a pain in his throat as he mercilessly cut down man after man; he saw the terrified expressions on their faces, even though they had him hopelessly outnumbered. Then he realized why; Zernzaz realized he had been screaming the whole fight.
Not screaming in terror, but in anger; in desperation. He was so close to the one thing that mattered to him and these men were in the way.
And they were going to die for it. They were all going to die.
That they did - when only one man stood in Zernzaz's way, the Goblin almost casually sunk his dagger into his chest and left it there as he continued to where Absinthe was.
"A-Absinthe! I be search for y-" Zernzaz stopped, staring in shock at the revelation that Absinthe was nowhere to be found. He gasped, refusing to believe it. But she was gone, and as Zernzaz looked around, he could find no sign of her. Then he noticed..
The tracks he had been following were gone. He realized, furthermore, that they had never even been there in the first place. Zernzaz reached into his shirt and took out the golden locket, flipping it open and looking at the picture of Absinthe as the realization he had been following a dehydrated illusion for days washed over him, as well as the realization that he had just cut down a dozen innocent adventurers that noticed him barely conscious and close to collapse in the desert. They had only reacted when he killed the first one that was rushing to his aid.
He fell onto his bottom, pushing himself up against a boulder. He stared at the picture, his grip wavering as he felt himself beginning to cry. He had never cried since he was a child - and couldn't now. He was so dehydrated that he couldn't produce tears.
Zernzaz gasped to himself rapidly, crying tearlessly.
"Absinthe.."