Moral Compass

The ground was sodden, and large metal clad boots made the art of stealth almost impossible. It was only due to the abundance of natural cover, and the eternal sound of falling rain, that the dwarf was able to get close without raising suspicion.

The camp was indeed goblin, with two guards keeping a watchful vigil. Neither were adorned with armour, with only the most basic of clothing protecting their dignity. One clutched a spear, whilst the other passed a simple sword from hand to hand, seemingly trying to pass the time.

Around the camp fire sat a handful of females, either cooking of nursing their young. Other infants run playing around the camp. There was no doubting that they were some of the horde to have fled Greshfell.

Tumbor’s grip upon his axe tightened, his sheer disgust and hatred for all greenskins coursing through his veins, but something was holding back his bloodlust. He found himself questioning the justification for killing women and children, that was until he turned his thoughts to the original population of Greshfell. Would the goblin have been equally as compassionate?

Raising his axe high, he broke cover and charged the camp, sending those inside into mass panic. Tumbor willingly allowed his hatred to consume him as without remorse his blows cut through the goblin with ease. The guard that had been wielding his sword swung valiantly, connecting a swipe across the dwarf’s chest, however the blow went reletively unnoticed. Instead, Tumbor’s upwards curved swing relieved the goblin of both his sword arm, as well as his head.

The fight was swift, the scene somewhat brutal as dismembered bodies littered the floor. Within his stomach a small knot appeared, as he cast his eye over the carnage that he had just done. Not for the first time he began to question his own moral values.

Tumbor sat by the fire, warming his hands and drying his soaked through clothing. Whilst the camp was able to offer immediate warmth, provisions and a place to rest, there was also an almost positive feeling that the scent of the kill would lure all manner of curious predators.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown 

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