Post by Axyl on Jan 24, 2011 20:15:40 GMT -5
Part I- The Goblin
Rain. It was always raining on Kezan, murky droplets similar to crocodile tears falling from the nasty green and often black smog clouds of the islands. The goblins had done this. Many often speak of a time when Kezan was as green as an orc’s bum, but only as a goblin’s wet nurse tale. It smelled, too. Horribly. The stench was that of death, disease, and expired Kaja’Cola. At least if you lived in the slums, which many goblins did. Those in affiliation with the trade princes only smelled riches and macaroons.
And Axyl hated it. He grimaced as he held his ugly mug towards the black sky.
Axyl loved money as much as the next goblin, probably even more. At times, it was all he could think about. He dreamed of taking elegant baths in a large tub of gold coins and wondering if his skin would turn yellow. He had visions of becoming so rich, they would engrave his face on every gold coin that ever and would exist. But most importantly, he dreamed that one day he would become a trade prince. And not just any trade prince.
Trade Prince of Azeroth and beyond.
He would live in the largest estate ever established, maybe one at the top of Mount Kajaro. He would have a master bedroom constructed entirely of gold, with a bed thirty times his size, covered in silk sheets as gold as the walls. He would have thousands of servants, and would only be served by the finest maidens of the world. He would divulge into sultry pleasantries and have not a care in the world. He would eat the finest foods, drink the finest ales, and...
“What’ya standin’ aroun’ for, ya’ nub-goblin! There’s work to be doin’!”
Axyl almost fell face forward as another goblin slammed a palm on his green back. It was Garbex, the one goblin Axyl despised the most. His dark icky skin was like bile, his touch was commanding and abusive, as was his tone, and his face was as nasty as Axyl’s. Garbex was his boss, as well as his father, but Axyl never saw Garbex as a fatherly figure, or any sort of mutual figure at all. He was just vile and evil manifested in flesh.
Axyl sighed as he regained himself, kicking a pebble. The small black pebble rolled along the cobble until it reached a small murky puddle, gently sinking to the bottom. He looked at his boss with a face of opposition.
“That’s sh*t you’re talkin’! I’ve only been on break for five minutes!”
Garbex spat a wad of nasty black snot on the cobble.
“Oi, watch ya’ moewf’, boy! That be five minutes too long. Get back in the mine and make papa some macaroons!”
Infuriated, Axyl knelt down to grab his pickax. It would only take one fluid motion with the tip of the pickax to impale poor Garbex’s skull, he thought to himself. But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. Although the man was conspicuous of being evil incarnate, Axyl still somehow held a shred of care for his father. As to way he would even care only a bit for this goblin is unthinkable, even to Axyl himself. The man killed his own wife for her fortune. What would he do to Axyl? He was safe for now, as he had not even a silver piece to his name.
It was back to the mines for Axyl. It was were most of his days were spent. He felt more at home in his sector of the mines than he did at home. His body would become moist with sweat after a few minutes within the mine. He would become drenched after a few hours, the mines waves of heat from the Mount always sizzling. It was like the air was on fire. When it was time to leave, that was the best part of the day. Being hit with that blast of fresh cool air, the sweat of the body being washed away by the murky rain. It was truly something to look forward to.
“The f*ckin’ rain. Ain’t it somethin’ to look forward, No Good?”
Axyl turned behind him to meet his long time friend, Whizzle. The clasped arms in greeting, then turning back around to gaze at the black clouds above.
“Cooped up in that stinkin’ mine all day...” Whizzle said as he rolled his eyes, looking towards his buddy enjoying the cool rain. “It’s like the one damn thing keeping me from blowing this entire stinkin’ island up is this dirty rain.”
Axyl nudged Whizzle playfully, folding his arms across his bare chest. “Don’t worry, Whiz. You’ll have more things to keep you from insanity soon enough.” He gave a grin of stubbornness.
Whizzle dug his brown dirty hand into his belt compartment, rummaging around until he found a cheap cigar. He held it out to Axyl hoping for a light, which he was given from a beat up home-made fluid lighter. Once the piece was lit, the goblin began to enjoy the rest of his day as black rings of smoke floated into the air, merging with the smog above.
“Is that so? Don’t tell me, Axy...you still thinkin’ about bein’ a damned trade prince?”
Axyl simply looked back to his friend, a wide grin along the bottom of his mug. Whizzle smacked his face embarrassingly.
“Geez, Axy! When ya’ gonna’ let that thing go? Ya’ never gonna’ be trade prince, not with Gallywix around.”
Axyl turned away, his arms still crossed. He began to look around, seemingly looking at nothing, though the visage of disappointment was well crafted on his face. Whizzle took note of this.
“Eh, c’mon pal. You know I didn’t mean it like that...”
Axyl shrugged, waving away rogue rings of smoke that managed their way to him. “Yeah,” he said apathetically, “whatever.”
“So...ya’ gonna’ save me a seat on your council? For when ya’ become the next trade prince?”
Axyl cackled, slapping his knee as he looked at his friend warmly.
“I’m gonna’ make you my damn first chairman!”
After a warm exchange of friendliness, the two clasped once more and departed, saying their goodbyes until the morrow. As Axyl made his way towards the shore of the isle to be with himself, Whizzle hadn’t made ten paces before being confronted by a nasty looking goblin.
“Whizzle...I gots a proposition for ya’.”
The lightly goblin who had been approached gave a smirk to his boss. It wasn’t often he was singled out for a proposition. It must have been something important. Something of gain.
“Sure, Garbex. What’s up?”
Rain. It was always raining on Kezan, murky droplets similar to crocodile tears falling from the nasty green and often black smog clouds of the islands. The goblins had done this. Many often speak of a time when Kezan was as green as an orc’s bum, but only as a goblin’s wet nurse tale. It smelled, too. Horribly. The stench was that of death, disease, and expired Kaja’Cola. At least if you lived in the slums, which many goblins did. Those in affiliation with the trade princes only smelled riches and macaroons.
And Axyl hated it. He grimaced as he held his ugly mug towards the black sky.
Axyl loved money as much as the next goblin, probably even more. At times, it was all he could think about. He dreamed of taking elegant baths in a large tub of gold coins and wondering if his skin would turn yellow. He had visions of becoming so rich, they would engrave his face on every gold coin that ever and would exist. But most importantly, he dreamed that one day he would become a trade prince. And not just any trade prince.
Trade Prince of Azeroth and beyond.
He would live in the largest estate ever established, maybe one at the top of Mount Kajaro. He would have a master bedroom constructed entirely of gold, with a bed thirty times his size, covered in silk sheets as gold as the walls. He would have thousands of servants, and would only be served by the finest maidens of the world. He would divulge into sultry pleasantries and have not a care in the world. He would eat the finest foods, drink the finest ales, and...
“What’ya standin’ aroun’ for, ya’ nub-goblin! There’s work to be doin’!”
Axyl almost fell face forward as another goblin slammed a palm on his green back. It was Garbex, the one goblin Axyl despised the most. His dark icky skin was like bile, his touch was commanding and abusive, as was his tone, and his face was as nasty as Axyl’s. Garbex was his boss, as well as his father, but Axyl never saw Garbex as a fatherly figure, or any sort of mutual figure at all. He was just vile and evil manifested in flesh.
Axyl sighed as he regained himself, kicking a pebble. The small black pebble rolled along the cobble until it reached a small murky puddle, gently sinking to the bottom. He looked at his boss with a face of opposition.
“That’s sh*t you’re talkin’! I’ve only been on break for five minutes!”
Garbex spat a wad of nasty black snot on the cobble.
“Oi, watch ya’ moewf’, boy! That be five minutes too long. Get back in the mine and make papa some macaroons!”
Infuriated, Axyl knelt down to grab his pickax. It would only take one fluid motion with the tip of the pickax to impale poor Garbex’s skull, he thought to himself. But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. Although the man was conspicuous of being evil incarnate, Axyl still somehow held a shred of care for his father. As to way he would even care only a bit for this goblin is unthinkable, even to Axyl himself. The man killed his own wife for her fortune. What would he do to Axyl? He was safe for now, as he had not even a silver piece to his name.
It was back to the mines for Axyl. It was were most of his days were spent. He felt more at home in his sector of the mines than he did at home. His body would become moist with sweat after a few minutes within the mine. He would become drenched after a few hours, the mines waves of heat from the Mount always sizzling. It was like the air was on fire. When it was time to leave, that was the best part of the day. Being hit with that blast of fresh cool air, the sweat of the body being washed away by the murky rain. It was truly something to look forward to.
“The f*ckin’ rain. Ain’t it somethin’ to look forward, No Good?”
Axyl turned behind him to meet his long time friend, Whizzle. The clasped arms in greeting, then turning back around to gaze at the black clouds above.
“Cooped up in that stinkin’ mine all day...” Whizzle said as he rolled his eyes, looking towards his buddy enjoying the cool rain. “It’s like the one damn thing keeping me from blowing this entire stinkin’ island up is this dirty rain.”
Axyl nudged Whizzle playfully, folding his arms across his bare chest. “Don’t worry, Whiz. You’ll have more things to keep you from insanity soon enough.” He gave a grin of stubbornness.
Whizzle dug his brown dirty hand into his belt compartment, rummaging around until he found a cheap cigar. He held it out to Axyl hoping for a light, which he was given from a beat up home-made fluid lighter. Once the piece was lit, the goblin began to enjoy the rest of his day as black rings of smoke floated into the air, merging with the smog above.
“Is that so? Don’t tell me, Axy...you still thinkin’ about bein’ a damned trade prince?”
Axyl simply looked back to his friend, a wide grin along the bottom of his mug. Whizzle smacked his face embarrassingly.
“Geez, Axy! When ya’ gonna’ let that thing go? Ya’ never gonna’ be trade prince, not with Gallywix around.”
Axyl turned away, his arms still crossed. He began to look around, seemingly looking at nothing, though the visage of disappointment was well crafted on his face. Whizzle took note of this.
“Eh, c’mon pal. You know I didn’t mean it like that...”
Axyl shrugged, waving away rogue rings of smoke that managed their way to him. “Yeah,” he said apathetically, “whatever.”
“So...ya’ gonna’ save me a seat on your council? For when ya’ become the next trade prince?”
Axyl cackled, slapping his knee as he looked at his friend warmly.
“I’m gonna’ make you my damn first chairman!”
After a warm exchange of friendliness, the two clasped once more and departed, saying their goodbyes until the morrow. As Axyl made his way towards the shore of the isle to be with himself, Whizzle hadn’t made ten paces before being confronted by a nasty looking goblin.
“Whizzle...I gots a proposition for ya’.”
The lightly goblin who had been approached gave a smirk to his boss. It wasn’t often he was singled out for a proposition. It must have been something important. Something of gain.
“Sure, Garbex. What’s up?”
Founded April 26, 2005