The hood of her cloak sought out the eyes where the cold rain flows beneath it.
Glena's hands wrinkled through the saddle where she grips into, it was dark onto the dark tropical gist of night. The faith holds in upon her heart, she knows that the impudent and the most amusing masked man be revealed in front of her stallion, saving the little girl from the ancient and once passive nightmare. The girl's eyes affixed the lonely enchanted woodland with the butterflies goes a fair of glow, it was a circus of countless beautiful flying creature beside many own verdant flowers, somehow putting a grin on her petrified pale face. She cannot go any more longer, further, without the trace of schematic representation of the land planned to be foreseen.
She drew out the map that is given by the jester on the wet opened pouch, a green, tensely swollen bag. The paper was wet, looking easy to peel, but never teared a piece from the whole thing when she tried to get a little shred.
The dagger, keep an eye out of it. The voice of the fool echoed in her ears as the paper on her hands fold behind. Sprightly after a peek into the rough pale map, she knows the phantom of the masked man is lurking about the journey, carried by solid hoofs and a flowing mane and tail.
The black of eyes turned like a whole marble, surprised about how the deadly jeweled blade glows so bright that she can use it as a torch itself [https://img.wattpad.com/fac3099a034a8eebf488b9f1bbb07484776d8569/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4f7865664f4d685a786c6e477a673d3d2d313136353035363732352e313663643165613962383863333439363438363035323938353939352e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The black of eyes turned like a whole marble, surprised about how the deadly jeweled blade glows so bright that she can use it as a torch itself. Disregarded the purpose of the foul unnatural killing and a key to what is known to be a reward on the price she paid in the long land excursion, she played with the weapon. Putting it near the black ashen wood, then it appears to be successful.
The fellow feeling of her ancestors are oozing in her lovely soul. The magic is so strong that she felt the fairies of the House Caract laughing by any side, the painting of her grandmother had casted, contaminating her dreadful past. The arms of her grandfather wrapping her body, it was soothing, tastes the goodness of each with a smell, unlike when she felt the tide retreat in the last of his heart.
No one to talk to, unless the fairies beside her was not fantasies any longer. In a distance of the black woods, she can hear someone whispering or perhaps, singing or, talking loudly but up to a point where the journey is not in the quarter. A voice of a man echoed, deep and faint. It seems like it din something into the mind of many apprentice, familiarize many armed neophyte become himself.
Shop Keeper: There, there it is. The sacred halberd of the Grand Chieftess Samara. When wielded, she sees no honor to be gained within the edge of its blade. But you know what, time and time again, whenever a person pays a visit here in the secret, in many instances, they asked me what truly is the power of a real warrior. A fallacy impression to those who believe they always carry a sword, I suppose they never seen one of a real warrior bears a bare fists.
Then she heard the growling laughs as she get pass through the tallest tree among the forest.
A scads of them, she thought a better way to leave the nest of howling wolves is to the right of the narrow entrance. It was something devastatingly devious, somewhere down the darkest woods, and the sky falls nothing but shadow; does no forgiveness to be shown, and no hopes to be found. The scattered and withered leaves waves along the bottom of the hooves, which shattered blasts of annoying natural sounds.
Am I heard? she thought.
Like Glena was talking on the unseen fairies flapping their wings. An imaginable state of fear she's feeling.
The deep woods can somehow summon the mythical beasts in the midst of thick ancient pages. She was told by many, especially her mother's tales were swaying beside the eerie blowing wind. From orange skinned trolls carrying heated battle axes to thick bodied, ugly black wereowls, the half-person and half-bird harpy flying in the endless blanket of skies. Thankful that there is no drift of any bodies of water surrounded or seated within the forest, scared to think that a Scaly gray Fishman crawls above her mount. In any cases one of those heard creatures lurking about the hidden blackness of luridly flaming pile of woods, does not kill her but instead, discover what unknown dangers could threaten their sacred ground. Their fangs becoming a mere weapon for any tender mortal flesh, she was ready as well as flinching in any out of the ordinary attacks, she moved on.
Shop Keeper: You are moving after me now? Huh? Look how you walk boy, it is so silly. Whatever form you take, I'll dominate it! Go after me little demon, Go!
Teasing it.
They are known as one of the many people known as Shopkeepers, or many as called it the Shrouded Attendants, who keep certain powerful items and artifacts until they are sold for a price, whether it is paid by the kinds of currencies or by putativ... [https://img.wattpad.com/11615c203b89459a19fa0fdc46f8a5865b78895d/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f786c586e3133644b315f6c6271413d3d2d313136353035363732352e3136636431656231396232353633326633313133383237343731352e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
They are known as one of the many people known as Shopkeepers, or many as called it the Shrouded Attendants, who keep certain powerful items and artifacts until they are sold for a price, whether it is paid by the kinds of currencies or by putative means. The keeper's red tent is bordered with blue and golden selvedge, half of the shelter turned over the bulged object, something square like a huge crate. Beside the hidden massive thing covered half, there in existent on her eyes are loads of items and weapons displayed on a coconut shell-like shelf.
When she heard the voice is quite spot on for a normal person, not until he saw the face of the keeper, it was definitely something else she hears. It was not a man after all, but a half-man, half-boar, with its tusk piercing high above the pinkish collars. When he lowered the golden glass, she saw a pair of endearing eyes and a smile peeled back from his teeth as he rolls in the aisle, talking to himself. The people amongst the realm talks about how they look, it is uncertain talked to a lesser degree.
The kid's courage is well furnished that she even shaking in chuckle, the fear of getting crawled by many entities has gone, none other than now is the way of fun. She pulled on the leather strap reins in the direction of the boar keeper while mounted on the thick skirt. An anticipating bursts of message that can come up is higher than the mountains, as she can hear it already swaying in the breeze of night towards the magical antique.
Shop Keeper: Thrust this, Here! Here! What a powerful combination. Try to shear the bar off to let yourself free! Come get my hand, COME GET MY HANDS!
Glena heard the odd keeper talking to someone, seemingly mocking it. Her heart raised swift as she moved closer to the shop and heard iron shackles cracking against each other, but no sounds on whoever it is bonded to inside a large cage quartered to be unseen by many. She stopped the horse she was riding, the little girl looked around seeing nothing but the vague contorted shadows of trees, the only light that is coming from the distant is the bonfire of the boar faced shrouded attendant, summoned forward to the tent. A really small shelter holds several bodies of magical knowledge learned over several lifetimes, in spite of it being hidden out of nowhere. The grass tallest can grow so none can go, forcing feet will eat them whole, but the accepted and wielded face him close.
I don't think I will go closer. she mumbled, it came back to her, she was frightened to be beside that someone who is captured by the keeper.
Was it a monster, a malicious convict? Or was it different from something else?
The transports of delight and the spirit of inquiry that keeps her mind safe from fitfulness is beyond insanity. The glittering hands of gloves he equipped in the left, and the prolonged pink scepter which given enough power to melt the iron bars, definitely stopped her in her tracks. She clutched the ropes tightly together, and galloped sideways the dirty hooves of the ungulate animal. Glena took a closer look, as part near that the eyelids go close, as blurry as it can get alongside the silent ride; she wasn't ready on what she saw.
Gnarled and face grotesque, black goggled eyes, both ears pierced with three golden rings and teeth covered with a white layer of incrustation [https://img.wattpad.com/33b543c87c46156ea4d528d6a7b409e54d0c1ddb/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4c57554e7439544949696c3556773d3d2d313136353035363732352e313663643165633435626332363233643830303331343335353830382e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
Gnarled and face grotesque, black goggled eyes, both ears pierced with three golden rings and teeth covered with a white layer of incrustation. His shoulder is higher than the other, neck bent slightly and legs short which his staff overtakes it, but none can doubt the restlessness carried in his twisted physique. The shimmering axe swung the deathly regards to the odd prisoner, the sound of anger cries were muffled that the little girl herself can't contain the warmth of concern.
Glena: Stop it! He was scared!
The bristly wild half-person dressed a huge clothing stared at her, surprised and confused by her sudden appearance.
[https://img.wattpad.com/4b8092d8bf512bc091d1b30af2951ee165361016/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f626c664d4d4943567765712d4f413d3d2d313136353035363732352e313730633164646238313334626539303232393636313339333536332e6a7067]
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Shop Keeper: What are you~What are you doing here girl?
Glena: I am here to help him, he was struggling, wasn't that obvious?
By her feet, jumping from the top that is doubled on her peak. Wondering if the mortal speaks or hear, the crunch of the thick layer of dead leaves, but the green goblin never flinch. She started humming the sound of morning birds beyond the night of fireflies, steady slow, Glena draw near the prison cell while staring at the scourged attendant.
She caught a glance by bits at the purified items hanging, put aside, and resting in the shell board. Gulped and noticed the sharpness of blades in those different types of weapons. Two-pronged sharp Kigal Lances used by the Bullhead knights of the south, many kin of the kingdom have said the Lances of this variation has a strand of the Goddesses hair on it's handle, as if you grow stronger just by holding it. The might to overpower any foe that comes countering a wield is the Dragon Mace and the Black, Purple and Yellow glowing scythe of the three armed Ogre, Syaggamort.
It is featured a head made of stone carved a dragon with spikes all over it; said to have leashed a burn in every blow. Next to the pile of vivid accessories are the spheres floating above the rough stone pulpits. The blue orb is commonly added to the collection of wizards seeking to improve their presence in combat. The red one was added to polish and protect the holders of steel amongst men, thickens the shield and sharpens the sword. The black unleashes the god of death without the right of it's presence, the soul seeks its prey to be part of the orb and will be given the place inside of it forever.
The boar faced laughed.
Shop Keeper: You don't have the artifacts and weapons with you, shall you try killing him with your bare little hands. Heh, Keep away girl, or I'll put you in that cell as well.
Upon the girl's astonishment, she never listens to what the keeper have been saying for long while she's walking slow without her knowing the ruffling of his quill. The Attendant was blazed with the touch that is rubbing up the wrong way, which leads to his big hands to grab the girl's wrist, squeezing it until Glena echoed the pain of paralysis from his mouth.
Shop Keeper: I told you not to go closer or you will be with the reeking creature. You choose not to listen girl, then I'll now choose your fate.
In the stink of his being an evil one, Glena struggled to move as he saw the coated keeper wrapping her up with a thick brown fabric, it smells foul as him. Bringing her wrist up against the coil of rusted chains, fighting him, come to blows for her safety and away from him while her head sticks out even if the scenery is indefinite to see.
The shackles rattle within the bounds of the goblin's wrist, the disgust in cloak did not notice his primal power to break the chain into tiny pieces and rolls the cage until it collapse onto the ground. Not speaking a thing or word. Stinking, the saliva is going down from his sharp distinct fangs and waggles as he grabbed the shop keeper's neck. The stinging affliction chopped and changed, the two grappled around in circles, locking the great horns and crossing the vital steel.
Glena: Stop! You both are making it worst! Let me out of here!
She cried, bent her neck forward and see them brawl, not moving.
Shop Keeper: YOU LET THIS MUTANT ESCAPE! THE GODS! THEY SHOULD DAMN YOUUUU!
Mentioning the presence of all gods he possess, his dark words are coming into play as he move helplessly weak. Talking aggressively while being dragged on the ground with a dazzling purple shackles, an aura bind of taking any blood slow until a prisoner keel over, when out to nothing, the strength and the imperative essence of a person nascent again.
Shop Keeper: I DON'T~I CAN'T, DON'T BE SO ROWDY YOU FOOL!
Put up the shutter and locked in place; the freak gave one a taste of his own medicine, a bitter antidote. The three orbs he was fixing his eyes for long, he grabbed one and the most known orb that is condemned to hell is the black shifter; an omen of worse things to come for a mortal being.
Glena: Don't touch it, that can kill you! It will lead you to the underworld and you will be in the presence of the darkness.
The painted Goblin gestured his head whilst Glena putting a cross and waving his hands a no. But then the mutant refused her judgement that the powerful orb consumes every living mortal that holds it. A pain no longer binds his neck nor clasp his feet, the strength of one's little being widen the attendant's eyes and holding the chain that weakens his heart, leaving him out of breath. All along he thought that the green tribal mutant never speaks, until he made a sound after he launches his hand forward to remove the chain from the keeper's neck.
Harsh, largely guttural voice were spitting out of its mouth.
Goblin: Accurate is it? That is what I felt when you starved me, bleed me out and forcing me to eat putrid pile of nosh.
By the time he caught all of his breath in, he growled the pain from the throat. The Boar headed keeper slit out a blade in his pocket trying to cut the enigmatic threads upon his feet. He keeps failing, the stomach blocks his way of arms to the bottom of his body, not even touching the end of his knees. Glena saw him carelessly walked like the goblin never went from an infliction of pain, keeping the stuff in order for it to look ceremonious and getting the objects needed for something of a vengeance.
The tribal figures in his arms and legs left her feel the edges of the anomalous world, the blood bath of black carried the tradition of an ethnic group of a different specified creatures. The green gnome unleashed her from the carpet meander, she was finally out of the harrowing warmth of the enchanted artifacts around her. Fellow feeling the strong sheer of wind, get a whiff of the nature's true form, and seeing the wicked face cease attending a large hand for her life.
Glena: What are we supposed to do now? He is the superior of this place and for sure he knows his way around, and how the things work...Think about it.
Goblin: If he can escape what I've gone through, the old and almost empty smelly shelf won't last him long. Vengeance is my guilt, and the longer the revenge draws out of the spoon, the more it taste good.
She was still stunned and startled of his defaced feature, whenever he roams close, she never doubt that he can harm her. His wrist was swollen red and at clutched in the other side of the knuckles are the artifact known as The Mother of horns; the mystical horn brings limitless solidarity amongst the blower and to those who hear it, following the sound easier without anyone enjoys the accordance of ones race.
ArrrroooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! ArrrrrroooOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The least he tried to escape from the proximity of its waves, the sound was petrifying that even her blood's run cold. The fine powder clears into her sleeves, the noises abroad fled the ways. What will happen next? she thought. Glena seemingly peering out from the shroud of cloth, if the keeper's going to escape. Her head is at sixes and sevens, Who's the bad one? Questioning the likes of choices of who's going to follow through the journey at the end of the southern world. She was afraid if the grotesque creature was hiding behind the cloak and gripping the handle of a shadow dagger.
Glena: What was that for?
Goblin: You shouldn't be out in the wilds, this could lead you worst than what I be forced to contend with. If it wasn't for your little distraction, the wand still holds me.
It was fast that not even a second or two make way for it, not even the clock tells the shrouded keeps of their being [https://img.wattpad.com/8b373ae5eee38f6064e71ada8e895a2e1c43d79a/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f336757622d7a5a6b4d57464b79773d3d2d313136353035363732352e313663643165643231666230383662363532373833373533383037382e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
It was fast that not even a second or two make way for it, not even the clock tells the shrouded keeps of their being. They are falling upon the surge with a bow and arrow equipped with them. A squad of outright small malicious green creatures comes out of nowhere. Bat-like long ears, angry wide eyes, hooked nose and stiff skin of an elder like person. The red and teared down banners made with human skin are coming behind the shadows of torch light, she knows that it was from a corpse by seeing the red blood dripping from it.
Her heart beats faster when she saw the horde of goblin wobbles the cage to let the keeper out of its misery, to a worst one.
Goblin: Watch it little brat! Watch how cruelty die before your eyes!
She knows no vengeance whatsoever, it was an opposite world to hear
Four of the goblin from the crones held the shop keeper's wrists and ankles, tied on the pole which stands the whole structure. Cheering, across the peace upon high above is the skinning blade dancing and about to cut him naked. She was tearing apart, Glena's shoulders are being clutched by the goblin's hand and forced the neck up to see the shop keeper's skin being ripped out of the flesh. He tried to wrench his arms free from the shackles and felt the double edges of the blade go deep into his neck. The boar faced cried out in pain and kept battering at the straps with his forearms, as the cry goes louder, the deeper it gets to his organs and drew cold blood, but he was too far gone to notice that he was already unclothed dead, bathing with blood.
It goes slow, the melody of one's agony is beginning to fade, his feet beat the trees by a pedantic slow rhythm of a burial ceremony, and the eyes shifted from black from the essence of smoking voodoo.
She cried, tears falling from her cheeks.
Glena: Why do you have to...do that to him?
Goblin: Well, why do you think he did the same to me? For sure you will ask him the same question too.
The joints clipping out of the other bones made her teeth clasp close, it was disgusting to hear. Uncertain, thinking that the Jester missed one puzzle from the plan and just picked regardless of what comes out of the pot. The shadows are miserable, axes are flying up at the sky and plunging through the pile of the keeper's organs, liquidated it in a form of oozing mud and putting it in a massive jar for tribal artifacts.
The head peer in the spike above the banner, the grotesque satisfied faces wobble when they jump in excitement, growl and mouthing words which even an intellect cannot identify what it meant. The golds and gemstones spills from their pouch and pockets, a symbol of their greed let out of the secrets.
Goblin: The master requires me to kill him, that boar face guy. His life didn't worth a song.
Glena: Why do you speak so formal, where they speak like the rest of you.
She wondered to the malevolent demeanor race of other humanoid creatures speaks well, like it was just a normal person from her Kingdom. As the celebration in front goes long and ceremonial, the dance threw music and the label of the boar man's carcasses are painted onto the walls. Vivid dresses are worn from the carts; colored feather, raptor's masks, tribal skirts, and even painted themselves with the terminated flesh.
Goblin: The master taught me more than them, spells, read books, speak properly as I must communicate with other ethnic groups.
Glena: Will you hurt me?
Goblin: Our face does not declare our intentions. Some of the most handsome and beautiful conceal the evil of mankind can think of, and some of the most ugliest creature polishes the most moral works.
She walked closer, the words drew more of her trust away from his horde. She was unable to gather her knowledge and assure to do something moral. Glena showed the map and pointed out the journey way to the edge of the winter world, she was in full doubt but her feet doesn't know the exact path to go there.
Asking, what would be the end of it? and do they have to know it?
Glena: A special person handed me this map, he wanted me to go there. And I don't know where exactly I am going.
The Goblin of full intellect handed the scroll to its wing and mumbled their words.
Ag'fen ri colisaris, rin urla nisto in ri edras. (Stop the Ceremony, the girl goes to the edge)