Massacre of 1764

[AmericanSimp 512]

 

     

 

The Siege

 

[!] Sitting just north of cloud temple was a small mining outpost, its walls bustling with the sounds of metal on rock, friends chatting about a hopeful future, and the occasional steps of llamas. A beacon of hope for those families torn apart by the hands of the imperials it was, but that all changed on the 13th Day of the Grand Harvest, 1764.

 

Just like any other day, the camp sat peacefully upon the mountains surrounding the cloud temple; miners continued their work, guards watched their posts, and refugees welcomed help from the camp. The Foreman doing what he did best as he guided the workers day and night with little rest for himself, tending only to stop when the occasional travel came bearing supplies to keep the camp running. To the poor souls thriving within the camp on this day, everything changed. As night fell the camp prepared for the usual nightly raid, and sadly they were not prepared for what was planning to attack them that fateful night. “Get down!” yelled one of the guards as massive boulders began to rain down on the helpless camp.

 

 

For hours the camp was besieged by Orens war machines, when suddenly a monstrous roar erupted from the earth as a rock caused the mine to collapse. Almost as soon as the mine collapsed the world seemed to freeze for a moment, the war machines pausing for a moment when a deafening boom erupted from the mine. An explosion had destroyed the mine from within, the camp’s source of prosperity now in flames. Horrific screams could be heard for miles outside of the camp, and within as women, children, even grown men began to scream in fear. A blanketing haze of smoke billowing outwards, its black smoke a symbol of what was to come… death.  

 

“Forward!” yelled an orenian commander as the armies of man began to march on the mining camp. Fire bombs sent many a man to meet their maker as they marched, but nothing could stop this unruly army of humans. As the army secured their first foothold in the city, a cold voice filled the air, “By God, kill them, kill them all!” yelled an orenian official as the army of many began to relentlessly slaughter every man, women, and even defenseless children. One man decided to spare the life of a bandit among the chaos, only to watch his brethren slaughter innocent women and children as they ran in fear. The siege soon came to an end as the leader of this lowly mining camp threw himself from a window to hang by a rope tied to his neck. Victory was earned, but was it worth it? 

 

The Promise

 

After the genocide of the mining camp, a young goblin made his way back towards the camp with a smile on his face, excited to see those he called family once more. The goblin's smile soon faded, skin soon turned beginning to lighten as he walked upon tents splattered with blood. A horrific display of limbs and cloth laid in front of his poor soul. The now ghostly pale figure continued forth past campfires with the cold bodies of women and children intertwined with another nearby. 

As the lonely goblin entered the mine would be completely collapsed, the rubble of the tower littered by the bodies of infantry. Their weapons and swords would be dropped before their cold bodies seemingly in surrender before they were cut down. The young goblin’s gaze soon locked onto the building overlooking the camp as he yelled, “Git dh zkah out uv der ****,” his voice trembling as he began to scale the hill, “Mi… Mi haz zumten fur lat” the voice of the goblin hoping to find someone, anyone. Hanging from the walls of the fort would be a swinging body, of a larger man adorning plate armor, a metal cord strung around his neck tightly as his hands hung loose by his sides. Upon seeing the sight, the goblin began to rush up towards the body of his friend, of his brother. The poor creature unable to believe the imperials could commit such an atrocity, “Nub- Nub-, dem zkahurz wud nevur du diz…” his voice full of fear as he made his way through the blood soaked building. 

Upon reaching the balcony the body was hung from, the voice of a bandit cried out, “They slaughtered everyone. The children. They tore apart their limbs, ate them! I- I.. know of the horrors that happened here. They slaughtered us like cattle, they killed us all!” the goblin frozen in time as the voice fell silent for a moment, “Run from here, all that remains is death....” With that, the resounding mechanism of an arbalest would be heard followed by the squelching of flesh and a crumple from the tower. A single tear fell from the goblin's eyes as he realized what happened, and after he regained himself the goblin swiftly cut the rope holding the beast of a man by the neck. 

Soon the young goblin ran down to the body of One Eye, his own hand moving to close the eyes of a friend that changed his own life for the better. As he dropped to a knee he echoed the words of the bandit from a moment prior, “Flat….” his voice continuing to tremble as he spoke, “Lat wyll nub flat fur nuffen brudda.” The goblin’s voice spoke with a passion as he brought himself to his feet looking over the camp, “Nub fur nuffen.”

 

 

After taking the time to take a memory of One Eye with him, the goblin pushed his body into the pit that gave himself and the man a reason to live. The goblin then made his way to bury one of the gate guards that always wished him well, another tear dissolving in the bloody earth of the camp as he made his way to the exit. “Tyl nehxt tik bruddaz” his voice firm as he walked out of the camp with one thing on his mind, Oren.

[prolo04 31]

Awesome job, bro! This is some juicy writing. Good work! ✊??

[Squiggles 77]

*Ninskeeq reads the story, hands placed upon the pages afterwards with both care, a deep respect, and sadness. These could have been, no, in ways, were her people. The goblins of the ground. Those who, like her, spent most their lives deep within the earth. She wondered how old Toeboil was when he first saw the sky, and, how it would be to go home and find it all was gone?

She would never know the answer firsthand... The cataclysm came with fire and destruction, and with no sight of her people in the vast fleet of boats, the goblin knew, there would be no seeing her family again. She would mourn them, together, the small goblin decides then and there. First thing she needed to do was honor them all, she pulls out her idea book and begins to sketch the memorial.*