GURBOMOJO

[Mickaelhz 3799]

Grubomanca Rising

 

Rex Zhot’Rax swung his blade in front of him, flinging the blood from it's coated edges and breathing in the pungent smell of death. “LATZ. PIG UP DUH RUHMAYNIN’ TWIGGIEZ. WI BI GRUBBIN’ HOZH DIZ TIK,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing throughout the forest as the final sounds of battle came to a stand still.

The large group marched through the front gates, the last breathing elves from the battle chained and whimpering behind. “KOME TU DA POT LATZ. MI WUNTZ TU GRUB!” Zhot shouted as cheers erupted from his warband. He led the group of 10 deep into the city, plopping down on a bench in front of a steaming cauldron. He looked around, a low rumbling coming from his throat “WHERE IZ DUH KOOK? HMMM?” he’d shout, angrily banging on the bench.

A cackle went off from the group, causing Zhot to whip his head around, his eyes scouring over the crowd that had now gathered around them until they landed on the cause of the evil laugh. A pink goblin was pushing himself through the crowded square, a large burlap bag drug behind him. “HUHUHU ZHOT. LAT IZ DAT IMPAZIENT FUR MI GRUB?” the goblin asked, a smirk showing on his lips. He waved his hand at the Orcs carrying the chained elves, motioning to the pot. “DUMP DOZ DUMAZZ TWIGGIEZ INTU DA POT BRUDDAZ. DIZ IZ DA TIK TU GRUB, YUB YUB.” The orcs carrying the damaged goods trudged to the pot, and one by one tossed the elves into the sizzling pot. 

“GRUBOMANZA,” Zhot declared to the surrounding Orcs, pointing to the salmon colored Goblin who was fixing a chef’s hat atop his head, “DIZ IZ DA BUB’HOZHIZT KOOK MI HAZ PEEP’D IN ALL DA GOI.” 

Grubomanca turned, giving a mock bow to the crowd before turning to his burlap bag. He lifted it up, and tore open the top, inhaling deeply at the savory odor of the dying screams from the pot. He took his bag, thrusting it into the belly of the closest orc “DUMP DIZ IN DA POT,” he demanded, already grabbing another orc and dragging him to the pot and handing him a large wooden spoon, about 5 feet in length. “LAT ZTIR DIZ UNTIK MI ZAY TU ZTOP.” Grubomanca turned, watching the gathering of hungry Orcs drool at the sight, sound, and smell of the cooking elves. “DU ANI LATZ WIZH TU ADD ZPEZIVIC ZPIZEZ?” A handful of Orcs, old and young walked forward, each dumping a handful of new ingredients into the boiling pot. Grubomanca shooed the stirring orc away and dipped his spoon into the stew. He raised it slowly to his lips, smelling it first, and then lapping it up in seconds before pounding his chest, beaming proudly, “IT IZ DA TIK TU GRUB MI BRUDDAZ! DIG IN!”

As the feast died down and the feeding Orcs returned home, the day quickly faded into night, leaving only Zhot and Grubomanca standing in front of the now empty pot. 

“Grubo,” Zhot said, placing a hand on his clansman's shoulder “Du lat gruk ov how mani twiggiez lat haz kook’d?”

Grubomanca shrugged, holding up eight fingers “Muzt bi atleazt Azhty.”

Zhot shook his head, smiling “Nub. Diz tik maykz it Azhty Futh. Mi grukz it iz tik tu tell lat zometink. Mi wizhez fur lat tu bi da bub’hozhizt Kook in da Uzg.”

Grubomanca turned, looking up to Rex Zhot’Rax, “Iz alredi part of da plan, brudda.”

“Nub,” Zhot continued, “Mi wizhiz fur lat tu be da Grubgoth ov da Uzg. Wut du lat blah?”

Grubomanca turned, lifting Zhots hand from his shoulder, “Yub. Diz zhall bi da New Ayge ov Kookin’, an mi zhall leed da charge.”

Zhot patted the little goblin, chuckling at his proclamation, “Den it peepz lyke mi haz tu git zome lat tu zkribblie duh newz fur mi.”

Signed, REX ZHOT'RAX

[GUPPY 43]

"WAAAGH," the pink Goblin would proclaim to being named the new Grubgoth.