RE: GB Disc 1: Untold Prophecy (Round 1 - Heatstroke)
08-24-2017, 04:56 AM
Peaches gasped for breath, coming to a sliding halt at the foot of the great statue rising from the desert sand. She’d evaded the rats only by virtue of ducking under scaffolding too small for them to follow her, her shadow gleefully snatching whatever it could. It wriggled now like a well-fed snake, sluggish and lazy, puddling around her feet.
The burning desert sun was starting to make her skin itch, her little green scales flaking off onto the sand. Peaches scratched at them absently. She’d have to molt ahead of schedule, she realized, which meant that she’d have a dull coat for spring. How was she supposed to find a goblin-husband now? How was she supposed to find anything?
The muffled clink of metal on sand made her jump. Her shadow had expanded the fill the tent-like awning at the statue’s base where, she supposed, someone had at one point attempted to sell refreshments to the toiling workers. Glittering in in the shadow’s murky center was one of its regurgitated prizes: a golden cup as big as Peaches’ head, set with opals and rubies the size of eggs. It was filled to the brim with water, sloshing as though something had shaken the cup and only just set it down.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Peaches asked warily. Her shadow only danced in answer. She’d learned to be wary of its gifts- but she was thirsty. Maybe it was as frightened as she was, and was making a peace offering. She reached for the gleaming cup, lifting it up to her lips.
The goblinette was forced to discard the possibility of any goodwill on the shadow’s part when the cup, as soon as she had taken hold of it, immediately overflowed, the clear water rushing out from over the brim and drenching her dress. She dropped it in fright, but it was too late: water was already flooding out from its apparently bottomless depths, turning the sand around her into a slurry and sinking her nearly up to her knees. She escaped nearly in time, scrambling up onto the statue’s great pedestal as the water roared and rose.
“Oh, this is just perfect,” Peaches said mournfully, as the flood spread and spread.
The burning desert sun was starting to make her skin itch, her little green scales flaking off onto the sand. Peaches scratched at them absently. She’d have to molt ahead of schedule, she realized, which meant that she’d have a dull coat for spring. How was she supposed to find a goblin-husband now? How was she supposed to find anything?
The muffled clink of metal on sand made her jump. Her shadow had expanded the fill the tent-like awning at the statue’s base where, she supposed, someone had at one point attempted to sell refreshments to the toiling workers. Glittering in in the shadow’s murky center was one of its regurgitated prizes: a golden cup as big as Peaches’ head, set with opals and rubies the size of eggs. It was filled to the brim with water, sloshing as though something had shaken the cup and only just set it down.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Peaches asked warily. Her shadow only danced in answer. She’d learned to be wary of its gifts- but she was thirsty. Maybe it was as frightened as she was, and was making a peace offering. She reached for the gleaming cup, lifting it up to her lips.
The goblinette was forced to discard the possibility of any goodwill on the shadow’s part when the cup, as soon as she had taken hold of it, immediately overflowed, the clear water rushing out from over the brim and drenching her dress. She dropped it in fright, but it was too late: water was already flooding out from its apparently bottomless depths, turning the sand around her into a slurry and sinking her nearly up to her knees. She escaped nearly in time, scrambling up onto the statue’s great pedestal as the water roared and rose.
“Oh, this is just perfect,” Peaches said mournfully, as the flood spread and spread.