In Search of Gemclod: Part Two Of Three
On the fifth day after my abandonment I discovered a dirt path which led to a large wooden bridge.
The structure was rotted and weak but it was a sign of civilisation which lifted my spirits. At the thought of spirits my spirits were then lowered to their prior position for I had no spirits. No wine, no beer, no rum.
I pressed on.
The Gods smile upon me! After more than a week of surviving on the morning dew and some slugs I found I have uncovered blessed water. It tastes of empty but it quenches my thirst nonetheless.
Can you ferment slugs?
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It is the two hundred and fiftieth day after my brothers left me on the mountain. I meant to record my wanderings more but when the notion of fermenting slugs came to me I could not let the idea pass. But with winter coming, it is perhaps wise to let this obsession go. No alcohol has passed these lips for some eight months and I fear if I live sober for too long I will grow attached to the trees I sleep under at night or eat my own eyebrows in stress.
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Day 274: No, I will not eat my eyebrows. It is time I travelled once more. I must find this Gemclod before my beard gets any more interesting ideas!
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Day 301: I saw a big cat today.
Much larger than the ones we had at the fortress. I approached it softly and called to it. 'Come hither, animal. Come hither.' But it growled at me, baring some very... very sharp teeth. I knew then that if I was to survive this encounter I would have to fight. To fight for the first time in my life!
I have brought an end to no less than three thousand slugs before this and so, I surmised, I should be able to dispatch the cat in much the same way.
With careful precision I hooked my left upper arm around one of the beast's toes.
And I smote him upon the ground! 'Your courage was exemplary but your execution weak, my friend!' I spake to my ruined foe. Again, I attacked the beast!
With a bellowing roar, I fell upon the cowering cat creature and with my left lower arm I righteously put a hold upon his left eye tooth! And with my right upper arm his head! And with my left upper arm I seized one of his front legs! And with my right lower arm I commanded his vile nose to do my bidding! And with my right hand I GRASPED HIS RIGHT EYE TOOTH!!!
And I squeezed.
Then I remembered I had a poker and stabbed it to death.
'Despised feline, you rue the day you spat upon my beard's fine countenance!'
For seven days and seven nights I danced upon the remains of my mortal enemy, singing to the heavens and the hells of my victory. And as the sun rose upon the eighth day and I could dance no more I knew, at the behest of my beard, that it was time to move on.
Day 372: I have found a settlement, a township of mans. Creeping over the threshold I espied some sort of wooden domicile. My heart skipped a bump! A home! With a bed no doubt! Warm blankets! Ale! No insects, not even the really tiny ones! Joyously I ran forward.
'Tall brothers, come to my aid, I have not spoken to a civilised creature in more than a year! I beg of you, let me in and share my story for a mug of warm beer!'
I stopped at the door.
'Brothers?'
I looked at the contents of the wooden box-home with horror. There was no bed. There was no alcohol. There was not even a floor. Just... bodies. Their elongated, sleeping carcases littered the ground, slumped over each other, completely unconscious. The smell... by the gods of dwarves and elves combined, the unbearable stench! My head began to spin. What nightmare is this?! What happened to these mans?!
I approached one of the sleepers.
'Are you... well?' I gave it a gentle prod with my poker.
Oh fuck. Fuck.