The world was spinning around us. But it could never spin enough to outpace our very heads, I'm afraid. I wouldn't be surprised if somewhere in all this cursed magic hid a spinning axe.
That was just how... inappropriate I felt throughout our long yet short trip. For millennia, my head kept spinning. Could be longer, could be shorter, who was I to tell?
The only thing I knew was me being in no condition to find that out, nor did I wish to. Then, abruptly, wet grass and resplendent sunshine fell onto my bald head.
It was a pleasant change. Apparently, it allowed me to finally find peace as I returned to reality. Hell, no orc would ever feel secure leading the life of a damn goblin.
We were not as stury to survive the unpredictable every waking second of our life. We were made to stand on hard rock, grounded.
To wield axes. Crush with fists and bang a helluva lot. On the safe ground, that is. Not somewhere up there our absentminded members of the family blasted us by mistake.
Oops, there was no green-skinned folk around me any longer. "Damn fucking deepshit!" I didn't let that furious howl disturb my peaceful shaking of the head. Very sure I hadn't done that in a long, long time.
Ignoring shrieks and minding my own business, that is. At least since the wind howled all around my expertly smoothened neck—no, better not think of that just yet.
Things had to be done. There was priority to everything. Eat, bang, sleep. In that order. Eat—"waaaaaahhhh!!!" Or maybe not?
Marks crawled all over my skin at once. Without the need to look at them, I was certain they looked nasty and served a certain purpose I was not happy with.
One I discovered the exact same minute. "Uhhh...mmmmmhhhh!!!" My grunts were as suppressed as they were painful as I writhered around in the tall grass.
"AaaRRRggHHHH! AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!" Meanwhile, the dark elf from earlier screamed her lungs out as she almost fainted due to choking on her own saliva.
Stupid muggers, they were. I couldn't help but look down on these wretches. Touched by darkness, their very culture couldn't embrace the perverse more. Sexy, their hoarse screams, though.
However, that was all. Orcs kill. Orcs rape. Orcs look after one another. Orcs form groups. But dark elves? Family kills family. Schemes come as easily as breathing.
Intrigue reigns supreme and truth a synonym of dishonour. Yet when it came to suffering themselves, they surely sang the most melodious concerts.
"Keep your thoughts in check," the living rock screamed at us while we were rolling on the wet ground.
"Don't think bad of the child! Just don't." Despite looking like nothing in the world could disturb her, the tone she spoke in sounded mellow.
It was what I associated with deep-sitting exhaustion, but I couldn't be sure with stonekin. ...or was she even that? I had my doubts.
"Not here." When I regained bits of my strength to turn my head, my eyes fell onto the centaur. Her entire being radiated confusion, anger and helplessness.
"Pretty horse," I grumbled with difficulty, having had enough of her tomfoolery, "why don't you accept the truth? Is living on denial bringing you anything?"
I always had a soft spot for the mentally retarded. In groups, such people turned into fearsome zealots. Alone, in poor souls bereft of any guidance.
"Who's a horse?!" Her reply was immediate. With fury and rancour radiating off her streamlined body, she would have come after me if not for a certain someone interfering.
Without even giving her a second to regain her wits, the mess of tentacles and clothes wrapped all around her, each extremity pressing a murderous tool against the poor horse. What a stupid horse.
"I demand: Silence!" Though metallic and dangerously neutral, the grating voice was still capable of making even my finest hair stand up in protest.
While it sounded like the ramblings of one barely awake, there was so much more to it. Rhapsody, the elven mugger and Horsey could only shut their mouths.
Then it was Abladon's turn to suffer physically. As she was chronically snickering on the safe sidelines... she got her foul mouth stuffed with another load of vivacious tentacles.
Given other circumstances, I'd have thought much darker, creepier thoughts. But like this? The mighty creature was but a can of worms and scrap metal.
There were no feelings. At least not for the fairer sex. I might not be particularly bright and loved provoking fights, but even then there was a limit.
Why in the heavens would I provoke what I had no means of surviving? So I played it smart and kept silent, which the other three apparently couldn't.
"Uuhh... wwahhhhahhhaaaaa~" Though the tentacle monster's forceful re-education didn't last long. Soon, penetrating screams cut through the expansive plains.
He tried to calm her down, made away with all those frigging tentacles and even took back all weapons surrounding him like loyal henchmen.
But it was not easy to owe up to the pathetic squaller. Viewed from the bright side, he got enough work dished out so the other three dimwits could extradite themselves from his clamping attention.
The not-so-bright side made itself known too. Screaming around with no care in the world wasn't exactly prudent.
Not when we were new here, knowing nothing of the land and even less of the people inhabiting it.
Which had but one deplorable outcome. "Surrender!" "Or die, wretches." A strange creature interrupted his rendition.
One equipped with two bestial, fur-covered heads sitting proudly upon a mighty torso easily as thick as my muscle-covered neck.
"Follow, and no funny business!" Both heads yapped at the same time, pointing around with the two sharp-looking spears, one equipped in each hand.
He, she, they... It mattered nor. What did was that the creature meant business. Hard business. And somehow loved jumping to conclusions, perhaps?
But there was only pity in my heart. For we came with someone in tow who meant even harder business. I laughed. Circumstances were funny. Resurrection shenanigans were at least good for a laugh.