The torchlight penetrated about ten feet into the passageway before giving way to total darkness. The brothers moved cautiously forward unnerved by the sound of creaking metal that echoed from the blackness. Whatever was inching forward would be sure to see the flame from Davis’s torch, but Davis and Dorius decided it would be better to face whatever was coming toward them in the light than to be completely blind in the tunnel. Each of them grasped their long swords, and were ready to do battle.
Adding to their anxiety was the horrific stench wafting down the corridor. If pressed to identify it, Davis would have said it smelled like cow dung set alight beside a pile of sulfur. The brothers were farmers, and recently took up swords, leather armor, and a map detailing a secret entrance to an ancient Smyrnan fortification. The map told of magnificent treasures of the long lost civilization, or so the merchant who was able to read told them. The brothers could make out the pictures well enough, and this tunnel, seemingly an abandoned mine shaft, was the best, if least direct route to the reputed treasure horde
Carrying a sword and wearing armor, however, did little to instill courage in two farm-boys more skilled in milking cows and plowing fields than fighting monsters.
“Should we call out to it, Dorius?” Davis whispered.
“It must know we are here...do you think we might scare it off?”
“I’m not really sure how to be intimidating, you tend to frighten the goats. I think you should give it a try,” Davis tended toward cowardice. He was terrified of the dark, heights, snakes most certainly, speaking to women, in truth he was scared of most things.
“Whatever you are, stop moving closer!” Dorius shouted. Davis was frightened by his brother’s voice.
The creaking of the metal stopped completely. What they heard was the scampering of feet, as though someone were running toward them. Dorius was disappointed in his failed attempt of being intimidating. He had even practiced for weeks, when the brothers had decided to take up a life of action.
“Be at the ready, brother! Something is rushing this way,” Dorius warned.
“What are you two doing in my tunnel?” the voice called out in the language of men, in a voice that was clearly not of a man. Nor of a woman, to be sure, but something else. The brothers had never heard anything like it. It was a childlike voice, but with a wheezing somewhat akin to a hyena’s laugh.
“I’m warning you. Come carefully into our light. We are prepared to fight to the death!” Dorius resolved to ramp up the threatening talk. Davis rather wished his brother hadn’t said “fight to the death.”
“I mean no harm to you. But my master will surely kill you if he found you here,” a short humanoid form appeared in the flickering torchlight. If there was one word to describe it, that word was surely, ugly. “My master eats trespassers, he is very cruel. Dookie should know. Dookie has worked here many years.”
“Dookie? Who is Dookie?” Davis asked.
“You are speaking to Dookie, of course. Dookie is I,” the creature, ugly as it was, had a certain kindness about him.
“Your name is Dookie? Did your parents hate you?” Davis said.
“Dookie did not know his parents. My master named me Dookie. Dookie means brave in the language of dragons. My master will eat you if you don’t hurry back out,” Dookie pleaded.
The brothers doubted the creature’s story. Surely no dragons lived this close to the Free City of Insomnia. The Rangers would have warned everyone if such a being resided so close. Dorius was emboldened.
“And what does Dookie do for this Master Dragon?” He knew he could catch this little goblin in a lie.
“Dookie is the master’s remover of waste,” the goblin answered proudly, “see, I even wear fire proof gloves. Dragon dung burns like hot coals.”
And smells like dung and sulfur. Davis turned to Dorius as both brothers realized Dookie was telling the truth. They turned and ran back out the tunnel without saying a proper goodbye to Dookie the Goblin.
Adding to their anxiety was the horrific stench wafting down the corridor. If pressed to identify it, Davis would have said it smelled like cow dung set alight beside a pile of sulfur. The brothers were farmers, and recently took up swords, leather armor, and a map detailing a secret entrance to an ancient Smyrnan fortification. The map told of magnificent treasures of the long lost civilization, or so the merchant who was able to read told them. The brothers could make out the pictures well enough, and this tunnel, seemingly an abandoned mine shaft, was the best, if least direct route to the reputed treasure horde
Carrying a sword and wearing armor, however, did little to instill courage in two farm-boys more skilled in milking cows and plowing fields than fighting monsters.
“Should we call out to it, Dorius?” Davis whispered.
“It must know we are here...do you think we might scare it off?”
“I’m not really sure how to be intimidating, you tend to frighten the goats. I think you should give it a try,” Davis tended toward cowardice. He was terrified of the dark, heights, snakes most certainly, speaking to women, in truth he was scared of most things.
“Whatever you are, stop moving closer!” Dorius shouted. Davis was frightened by his brother’s voice.
The creaking of the metal stopped completely. What they heard was the scampering of feet, as though someone were running toward them. Dorius was disappointed in his failed attempt of being intimidating. He had even practiced for weeks, when the brothers had decided to take up a life of action.
“Be at the ready, brother! Something is rushing this way,” Dorius warned.
“What are you two doing in my tunnel?” the voice called out in the language of men, in a voice that was clearly not of a man. Nor of a woman, to be sure, but something else. The brothers had never heard anything like it. It was a childlike voice, but with a wheezing somewhat akin to a hyena’s laugh.
“I’m warning you. Come carefully into our light. We are prepared to fight to the death!” Dorius resolved to ramp up the threatening talk. Davis rather wished his brother hadn’t said “fight to the death.”
“I mean no harm to you. But my master will surely kill you if he found you here,” a short humanoid form appeared in the flickering torchlight. If there was one word to describe it, that word was surely, ugly. “My master eats trespassers, he is very cruel. Dookie should know. Dookie has worked here many years.”
“Dookie? Who is Dookie?” Davis asked.
“You are speaking to Dookie, of course. Dookie is I,” the creature, ugly as it was, had a certain kindness about him.
“Your name is Dookie? Did your parents hate you?” Davis said.
“Dookie did not know his parents. My master named me Dookie. Dookie means brave in the language of dragons. My master will eat you if you don’t hurry back out,” Dookie pleaded.
The brothers doubted the creature’s story. Surely no dragons lived this close to the Free City of Insomnia. The Rangers would have warned everyone if such a being resided so close. Dorius was emboldened.
“And what does Dookie do for this Master Dragon?” He knew he could catch this little goblin in a lie.
“Dookie is the master’s remover of waste,” the goblin answered proudly, “see, I even wear fire proof gloves. Dragon dung burns like hot coals.”
And smells like dung and sulfur. Davis turned to Dorius as both brothers realized Dookie was telling the truth. They turned and ran back out the tunnel without saying a proper goodbye to Dookie the Goblin.