A rat found its way through the darkness, sniffing curiously at the air. The scent of fresh blood and rotting corpses in the air. It cautiously moved further towards the alluring scent through the dark tunnels. It was hungry and in search of some food, and rotting bodies were an excellent source of food, not tasty at all, fresh meat was better, but a full stomach was better than an empty stomach in its opinion. It found the source of the rot after traversing several tunnels.
There were a lot of rat corpses, floating in the water held back by a wall constructed by something big. It studied the pile of rat corpses, pondering if they hadn’t survived the big flood and drowned. It shuddered at the thought of all them suffocating in a great flood. But through the overpowering scent of its dead brethren, it could still detect a scent of fresh blood. Leaving its dead brethren behind it moved curiously towards the fresh scent. Fresh blood meant fresher food, which was much better than rotten food.
The rat moved forward over the path following its nose to the strengthening scent, its tiny stomach growling with hunger. Tiny claws clicking over the stone tiles, hugging the wall it moved closer to the source of the scent. There was a strange large mass floating in the water in front of it and it extended over the sidewalk, blocking the way forward.
Confused, it stood up on its back legs and sniffed at it from a safe distance. It smelled rancid but edible. Not the best, but a dependable source of food. This must have been the reason why so many of its family members had been there. The scent of fresh blood came from it.
Moving closer to the edge of the strange mass it sniffed again at it, before taking a tentative nibble from it. Disgusting flavor but edible was its judgment on the material. It would do in a pinch, but it wanted to know what the cause of that fresh blood was, hopefully, a fresh corpse, or something it could bite to death in a weakened state.
The thought of having fresh meat made skitter up the mass, digging down in it with its claws to keep a hold on the slippery surface. It slowly made its way up, wary of what caused the scent of blood, if it was still alive and ready to lash out. Now that he was closer it could see the source of the blood scent as well, and it was a big bad.
The rat pondered for a moment if it should just run away, abandoning it and choosing the safety of the tunnels far away from the big bad. A big bad was always dangerous and could kill you in one fell swoop. But then again it was a lot of blood it was smelling, maybe the big bad was dead, and walking away from such a large supply of fresh meat would also be a bad decision.
Torn between instincts, it stood there for a while, anxiously sniffing the air. Hunger won out in the end after a vicious pang of its stomach, it moved very slowly forward towards the big bad. After scaling up on a big hill where it would have a better view of the big bad, it finally saw the big bad in full with no obscuring mounds between it. Flattened itself so it could study the big bad carefully, before deciding whether to run away or to take its chances.
The big bad was covered in a lot of small wounds that it recognized as inflicted by its brethren. Claw marks and bite marks were all over the face, hands, arms, and chest of the big bad. There was also a really large wound in the chest of the big bad. The big bad must have fought fiercely to have gotten so many bites, and its brethren must have fought valiantly against the big bad, only to be flushed away by the rising waters.
It would finish what its brethren had started and kill this big bad! Cautiously it moved closer to the big bad, ready to run the moment the big bad would move. It made its way towards the head of the big bad, where it would chew through the neck. If the big bad wasn’t dead yet it would surely die from that.
Having arrived at the big bad's neck, it bared its fangs, ready to bite, when it was suddenly grasped by a big clawed hand. It squealed in pain as claws pierced its chest and stomach.
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Crag lay there, on his back and eyed the moving spot whilst remaining completely still. It couldn’t exactly see what it was, but it suspected a rat. If the rat would make its way towards him he would be able to capture it and eat it.
The rat took ages to get closer to him, and Crag practiced his patience. His goal was to survive this cursed situation and to return to his tribe. He had become much stronger, and with his larger health pool, he would be unstoppable, if only he could survive these days without dropping under one stamina. He had taken a risk, a big risk, but it had paid off handsomely. If he would survive that is.
The rat was now studying him from a glob of fat, just sitting there and watching him, sniffing at him. Trying his best to breathe as shallowly as possible so his chest wouldn’t move as much, making him pose less threatening to the rat so it would dare come closer to him. His wounds and blood must surely be a tantalizing lure for the stupid critter. It only needed to come a bit closer, then he would be able to strike.
It was only troublesome that the stupid critter was approaching from the wrong side, where his useless arm and chest wound were. Maybe it would go around him and be within reach of his right arm. The rat finally came down from its glob of fat and made its way agonizingly slow over to him. At a point, it moved towards where Crag couldn’t see it because his head was still facing up, and he couldn't move it because that would scare the critter off.
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Biding his time he waited until he could get an idea of where the critter was going. He tried to listen for the critter moving, but there was no sound as it moved over the soft surface. If it would go for his feet he would have a bad time trying to capture it, with very low odds of success, he would have to kick it to prevent further injury. If it would go for his limp left arm it would be slightly better, but he would have to twist on his side to capture it, which would come with a lot of pain, which might be distracting enough for the creature to be able to escape his attempt to capture it.
Then he felt the whiskers of the rat against his shoulder. A grin grew on his face, this was absolutely perfect, where he could reach it without pain. Maybe his luck wasn’t all that bad after all. He waited some more until he felt the whiskers brush against his neck. Then he moved his right arm over his chest quickly, grunting through the flares of pain that jumped up all over his chest, to where he suspected the rat would be near his neck. He felt his claws breaking the skin of the rat, and the coarse fur irritating the wounds on his fingers and hand. He lifted the rat above him.
He eyed the rat he had captured and was lifting over him, as it struggled in his hand, the fresh blood from where his claws had pierced the small rat running down his arm. The stupid thing was squeaking in panic and pain, the sounds resounding throughout the sewer. He felt a wave of nausea and exhaustion suddenly coming over him and he was forced to let his arm fall because he couldn’t hold it up. His claws were lodged securely within the rat, and he made sure to keep it with its tiny legs lifted in the air before he gave in to the unconsciousness that claimed him again. Hopefully, he would still have the rat when he woke up….
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Waking up again, in what was growing to be a very annoying habit of falling unconscious and then waking up again after a minor exertion of being awake, he checked his and saw to his dismay that the rat was gone from his claw. A trail of blood leading up a glob of fat.
He brought his hand to his mouth and licked the dried-up blood from it and his arm. His dry tongue rasping against the flaky blood, peeling the blood from his skin. Then he found he couldn’t swallow the dried blood, as his mouth was too dry, his attempts resulting in a painful coughing fit. Screaming in frustration he smashed with his hand in the fat below him a few times. He was so hungry, and now this rat had vanished because of this stupid lack of energy, and he couldn’t even eat the smallest bit he could gather because he was too thirsty.
After having calmed down a bit he decided to continue what he had been doing before he had spotted the rat, making his way to the water. He moved his arm sideways, then leaned on it, lifting his body slightly above the fat glob and then letting it fall towards his arm, moving a little bit sideways. Taking a long break to regain his breath and not to exhaust his stamina overly he considered the unfairness of his life. Having regained his breath eventually he moved his legs sideways, and then his butt. It was tiresome and time-consuming, but he really did lack the strength to crawl down. He might have been able to do it that way if his left arm hadn’t been so useless, or a big painful throbbing hole wasn’t present in his chest, where he did not know where it came from.
He had been wondering about the cause of that hole, but he couldn’t think of any good reason why there would be a big wound going through his chest. There was no way rats could have caused it, but anything else he could think of wouldn't have caused it either. Humans would have made certain he would be dead, and not abandon a living goblin. It was quite perplexing not to know what had happened to him that had wounded him so grievously.
With a grunt he started the movement rhythm anew, inching closer to the water. He could see the water below him, so close but yet so far from him. He studied the water whilst he moved his legs when he suddenly froze. He saw something twice as large as him moving under the surface of the water with deadly grace. The thing surfaced slowly, only its eyes appearing above the water staring at him, a dark shadow betraying the large body hiding under the water. Heart beating in his chest so hard that he felt that it would jump out of it, he closed his eye and shook his head. When he opened them again the creature was gone without a trace. He seriously hoped it had been a hallucination. But even if it was real, he still needed to get down there and drink. If he wouldn’t drink he would die. Maybe dying to the teeth of that monster would be less agonizing than this torture for survival.
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Working his way down slowly, but surely, always keeping an eye on his precious exhaustion, so he wouldn’t deplete his one point of stamina, he made it down with only passing out four times. He didn’t know how long he had been without water, but the glowing eyes staring back at him in the tunnel seemed to indicate for quite some time now. He suppressed his nervousness at the eyes looking at him with malicious intent and tried to focus solely on what he was trying to achieve, reaching the water. He finished his last move and was now finally with his hand in reach of the precious water.
Exhausted he let his hand fall in the water, enjoying the cold feeling on his hand for a moment, before lifting his hand to his face, and letting the precious drops fall in his eagerly opened mouth. The first drops to hit his dried-out tongue felt like a floodgate was opened in his mind as suddenly he could taste the water, the rancid taste of the water delightful to his senses. The water wasn’t enough to swallow with his parched throat so he repeated the exercise of putting his hand in the water, lifting it to his mouth, letting the water drip down, until he had collected enough water in his mouth to be able to swish it around a bit. He resisted the urge to swallow it directly, first giving his mouth and throat time to get rid of the dryness in it. When he swallowed the warm water it felt delicious, going down his gullet. His empty stomach first protested at the sudden invasion of its rest, then started to work to process the precious resource with all haste.
A smile grew on his face as he dipped his hand in the water again and started collecting water within his mouth. He would survive! With this water accessible, he could wait out until he had recovered enough so he could hunt for some food without such dire consequences. It was unfair, but he would live, which was the important thing!
Taking his second swallow he felt even better. He felt himself slide away in the familiar unconsciousness, but the panic that normally came with it was gone, as he knew he would survive this now he was near the water.