yar New Growth in the Village

[Barbog 446]

Spoiler

welcome everyone to your daily schizopost about yarbog

The same shabby little goblin gathers himself up once more, grinning toothily at the egg in the corner, resting peacefully in it's box. He nods to himself as he pats the loamy soil, ensuring that it is still a bit moist- easier for the little creature inside to get comfortable upon should it hatch in his absence. After all, hatching season is coming soon for the Drûth tortoises. Still, he pushes this thought aside as he turns to the other object of interest in the room- the large corpse of some burly human, all gutted and dessicated. The goblin is quite pleased at the lack of mess to clean up, and drags it outside by the hair. He calls out a soft goodbye to the egg, and barges out the door of his outpost.

The goblin then strides to the near-center of the village, by the large bonfire. A remarkable pile of skeletons and mangy hides await him, and await their new companion- the bones that hide in the flesh-bag at his side. He dumps it upon the ground, and makes quick work of the poor sod that used to be something, be someone. It doesn't matter anymore. Be it a beggar, thief, warrior, or king, it is now reduced to chapped hide and bones nestled in dry gore. He takes no pleasure in ripping the bones out of the trespassing sod's corpse, and tosses much of the skeleton into the pile- which, upon closer inspection, seems to be made of mainly humanoid remains. One must wonder how many people cross into this village, especially with all the shrunken heads and macabre designs lying about. It's quite a bit more likely that the goblin merely claims more of the lands around, and uses that as justification- or these may even be dead soldiers whom he came into conflict with. Truly, it is impossible to know anything about them, other than that they were deemed incredibly dishonorable to warrant this treatment.

 

This line of thought is to be pushed out of mind as he finishes his work, leaving the human-shaped sack of meat behind as he gathers up the pile of fur and bone.

Throughout the day he remains hard at work, gathering up twisted logs and branches as need be, entwining them around skeletons, draping hides and furs atop of those to complete the look. By the time a few hours pass, the end result stands tall by the center of the village, proud and ready to bear the ages.



Looking to his feet, he notices he still has quite a lot of material left to work with. Looking up at the sky and seeing the harshness of the midday sun, he figures he still has time enough to carry forth and construct another, towards the boundary of the village- further reasserting Yar's claim to the land. As he drags the bones and hides across the ground with intentional disrespect, he bellows out a song he found inscribed in a hut- left for the former inhabitant's children to learn, presumably, to join with their elders during celebrations or toil.

"Lyfe iz toyul,
Lyfe iz pain.
Tyll da zoil;
Wayt fur rayn.
Grizh coatz plowz,
Wurkerz groan.
Harvuzt now
Flezh agh Bone!"

The macabre tune is sang with an optimistic lilt, as if being given the chance to know and speak the lyrics is some grand milestone for the little wretch. This song is looped over and over as he swiftly constructs another harrowing ornament, covered in the same furs and bones- even featuring a full skeleton upon one of it's stronger "branches".



With his work done, the goblin gazes up at the starry night sky, and can only hope that the road of war out in the distant cities does not reach the clan's slice of the forest.

Edited May 31, 2022 by Barbog
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[MagicMonkey_ 30]

"Abzolutelee beautiful." Borug grins widely.