Return Home by Lascivious
Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2015 10:11 pm
Return Home
Lascivious - November 28, 2005
The Plaguelands.
Even to her undead eyes the place was forsaken. By the Alliance
and Horde, Elune, the Earthmother and whatever other gods any
felt like praying to. Only the mindless dead and remnants of
scourge wandered its withering grounds.
It was here in these dying hill she discovered her home. Burned
and gutted, unrecognizable from its former state.
Much like me, Lascivious thought to herself. “What happened
here?”
“Burning Legion,” said the old goblin, Broknog. “Overran
everything. Killed and converted everything that moved. If the
plague didn’t get ya, they made sure you got got, if ya take my
meaning.”
A small ruined shack caught Lascivious’ attention. Only two sides
were left, the roof and door gone. But littering the area around
it were dozens of dead animal. Especially rodents and birds. She
reigned in Sam and dismounted. Inside the shack were several
burst bags of grain. There had been many more, but the local
animal had devoured them over the years. And now they lay dead.
She lifted a hand full of moldy grain and let it drop slowly from
her finger.
“Not good grain.”
“What?”
“The grain. It’s not good,” Broknog repeated.
“Yes. I know.” She remembered that night. She didn’t want to eat
but her mother made her. She was very young. Her sister was still
in diapers. Sammuel and their father, Brogan, were away on a
hunting trip. It took several days for the village to realize the
grain was no good. They locked it in the shed to keep the animals
from getting to it. Several people who ate the grain… well, they
acted a bit funny, but not Harmony. She had been fine. Brushing
her hands she mounted back up and headed into the ruins. They had
always been isolated from the going-ons of the world around them.
But even the villages remoteness could not keep them hidden from
the eyes of the scourge. The grain was one reason her father had
decided to enlist.
Stopping front of one of the building, she dismounted and stepped
onto the black rubble. She paused looking around.
“What is it, deadie?”
“My home.” She ran a tongue over her dried lips. Home. Walking
around the ruined building, she kicked about through the cinders
until something caught her eye. A book. Lascivious bent and
retrieved it with clawed fingers. The back cover was missing
along with many pages. Most were burned, the edges torn and
ragged. What few words were visible she could not read. Her mind
struggled to penetrate the mysterious code, a code she once knew
but had been erased from her memory. She didn’t need to read it
to know what it was.
Her diary.
Lascivious thought about handing it to Broknog to translate, but
something stayed her hand. Instead she tucked it into her
saddlebag and mounted Sam once again. When she had learned the
location of the village she had come to reap revenge on her
murderers. But instead found her revenge stolen from her. Still…
Sammuel survived. Maybe there were others who escaped the
scourge. For now she would continue her search
Unlike the scourge, she would not be merciful.
Lascivious - November 28, 2005
The Plaguelands.
Even to her undead eyes the place was forsaken. By the Alliance
and Horde, Elune, the Earthmother and whatever other gods any
felt like praying to. Only the mindless dead and remnants of
scourge wandered its withering grounds.
It was here in these dying hill she discovered her home. Burned
and gutted, unrecognizable from its former state.
Much like me, Lascivious thought to herself. “What happened
here?”
“Burning Legion,” said the old goblin, Broknog. “Overran
everything. Killed and converted everything that moved. If the
plague didn’t get ya, they made sure you got got, if ya take my
meaning.”
A small ruined shack caught Lascivious’ attention. Only two sides
were left, the roof and door gone. But littering the area around
it were dozens of dead animal. Especially rodents and birds. She
reigned in Sam and dismounted. Inside the shack were several
burst bags of grain. There had been many more, but the local
animal had devoured them over the years. And now they lay dead.
She lifted a hand full of moldy grain and let it drop slowly from
her finger.
“Not good grain.”
“What?”
“The grain. It’s not good,” Broknog repeated.
“Yes. I know.” She remembered that night. She didn’t want to eat
but her mother made her. She was very young. Her sister was still
in diapers. Sammuel and their father, Brogan, were away on a
hunting trip. It took several days for the village to realize the
grain was no good. They locked it in the shed to keep the animals
from getting to it. Several people who ate the grain… well, they
acted a bit funny, but not Harmony. She had been fine. Brushing
her hands she mounted back up and headed into the ruins. They had
always been isolated from the going-ons of the world around them.
But even the villages remoteness could not keep them hidden from
the eyes of the scourge. The grain was one reason her father had
decided to enlist.
Stopping front of one of the building, she dismounted and stepped
onto the black rubble. She paused looking around.
“What is it, deadie?”
“My home.” She ran a tongue over her dried lips. Home. Walking
around the ruined building, she kicked about through the cinders
until something caught her eye. A book. Lascivious bent and
retrieved it with clawed fingers. The back cover was missing
along with many pages. Most were burned, the edges torn and
ragged. What few words were visible she could not read. Her mind
struggled to penetrate the mysterious code, a code she once knew
but had been erased from her memory. She didn’t need to read it
to know what it was.
Her diary.
Lascivious thought about handing it to Broknog to translate, but
something stayed her hand. Instead she tucked it into her
saddlebag and mounted Sam once again. When she had learned the
location of the village she had come to reap revenge on her
murderers. But instead found her revenge stolen from her. Still…
Sammuel survived. Maybe there were others who escaped the
scourge. For now she would continue her search
Unlike the scourge, she would not be merciful.