Barbarian Legends - Goblinslayer 01

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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The events of Barbarian Legends occur many years before the events of Barbarian Tales.

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CITY OF YELEDOR

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"Stuck underground in this fucking stench," Girn muttered with feeling. He cursed the gods for his luck. While trudging through the sewers, knee-deep in putrid waste, about twenty-five feet overhead the citizens of Yeledor went about their daily business.

Girn was too large for these narrow passages, his back aching from stooping for hours. He was convinced that this, at least, had to be rock-bottom and the only way was up.

"Don't moan, barbarian. Work is work and it pays decently," Warren said, not in the slightest bothered by the smell of the bubbling sewage. The sewerjack looked right at home in the labyrinth of reeking tunnels that ran underneath Yeledor. Warren was much more experienced in travelling through the sewers. The ten-year veteran was sure-footed where Girn would most certainly slip and slide to land face first in a pool of excrement.

If only I could see in the dark, Girn thought, and this whole ordeal would be much more easy-going. But that still wouldn't help him to endure the stench. The fumes made his head swim from time to time.

On top of that, Girn felt ill at ease not able to carry his greataxe. The double-bladed weapon was simply too hefty to swing in the narrow underground passages. He'd fought hard to keep the greataxe on his person, but the blades would continuously scrape against the arched brickwork. Girn hoped his weapon was safe in the sewerjack's armoury.

Girn now carried a small hatchet and a long dagger. He wasn't used to wield either of these particular weapons, but didn't doubt his awesome strength could wreak serious damage with whatever tool. And the possibility of encountering goblins made him thankful for even the smallest weapon.

In the shuttered lantern light, his comrades were gloomy figures, their sewerjack uniforms indiscernible. Girn only wore his usual loincloth, not a single piece of clothing fitting his size. All had cloth wrapped around their heads, covering nose and mouth. Since joining them, though, Girn had learned to recognize their silhouettes.

The stocky man was Warren, sewerjack veteran easily distinguishable by his pockmarked face with erupting boils, but one example for not staying a sewerjack for too long. The rancid vapours clearly left serious marks. The tall but sticky figure was Gaunt whose name said everything about the man: slender body and bony face with deep set eyes. The thin shadow was cast by the lithe form of Kiara, the only woman in the entire organisation of sewerjacks. She had big eyes set in a face that was always covered in a thick layer of soot and grease. Kiara wore a black woollen cap from which poked blonde locks. Last but not least, there were the twins, Sek and Tek, both simpletons but from what Girn heard they were welcome allies in a scrap, both deadly with the cleavers they carried.

These were the men Girn worked with. Above ground they were considered outcasts and criminals, but underground, they were the kings of the sewers. Here, they were at home and enjoyed each other's company when those above ground wouldn't. They were often considered amongst the lowest hired thugs in Yeledor but Girn found they actually did honest work for the benefit of those that ostracized them in the first place.

When he had arrived at Yeledor, visiting for the first time, Girn had asked around for work throughout the city, but was forced to settle as a sewerjack when no one would hire such an imposing barbarian as himself. He found the whole ordeal regrettable but he needed money and the sewerjacks provided in return for his service keeping the underground tunnels functional and safe.

"Tracks!" Warren hissed. "Stay vigilant, lads. There could be trouble about!"

"Good," Girn grumbled, eager for some action. Two boring weeks without any encounter had passed and he wanted to meet some of the creatures they hunted in these tunnels. He had heard Warren tell many stories but that was not the same as coming face to face with a slime monster, sewer ogre, or a pack of rabid mutated dogs.

Upon closer investigation, the tracks were small footprints and Warren whispered something about green buggers, suggesting the possibility they were close to a pack of goblins. Girn wondered if there really was a whole subworld beneath the sewers of Yeledor as Gaunt had suggested multiple times. Could there really be a civilization of greenskins scuttling through the depths and creeping out at night to raid storehouses for food and arsenals for weapons? It sounded like a demented idea of someone who had too much time on hand to fabricate such concepts.

Then Girn froze in place, suddenly remembering the legend of the ancient dwarven capital Kog Boldur, its downfall orchestrated by an army of orcs and goblins swarming from the webwork of mines and tunnels beneath the city. Kiara poked his ribs.

"C'mon, Girn," she said in her soft voice. "Won't want you left behind in the dark."

The others had indeed continued and the dim lantern light was fast diminishing. They both hastened to catch up, Girn almost slipping on a patch of algae.

"Tunnels look unfamiliar," Sek said.

"Don't want to get familiar," Tek whispered.

Girn was forced to agree with Tek. The tracks had lead them into unknown territory, at least for their squad. Compared to the usual sewers they patrolled, this was a miserable place. The long stretch of corridor was flanked by crumbling walls, threatening to collapse at any second. At regular intervals, the brickwork had been sculpted into something that was no longer recognizable, though some carvings made Girn think of the sneering visages of daemons.

The sewage stirred and bubbled, attacking Girn's senses with even more fetid vapours. The atmosphere was hot and oppressive.

"We're deeper than normal," Warren said. "This tunnel is older and not man made. Look at the carvings. Dwarven maybe?"

"Don't care who built it. Doesn't feel safe," Gaunt said, looking suspiciously at the support arches along the corridor.

"Don't think it's dwarven," Kiara put in. "Dwarven workmanship should last an eternity. This masonry is crumbling." To prove her point -- not that anyone doubted her -- she struck an arch with the pommel of her dagger. The keystone chose that moment to fall down, nearly crushing Warren's skull. "Not dwarven," Kiara concluded innocently, flashing a dazzling smile, even in the dim light.

"Point taken," Warren grumbled.

Gaunt stared at the ceiling, said: "If I tracked out turns correctly, I reckon we're underneath the Noble Quarter."

"Well, no matter where we are, tracks disappear here," Warren observed. "No sense in wasting time, let's go back."

"Wait, what's that?" Girn asked suddenly. His companions stood frozen, all straining their hearing for anything.

"What's what?" Sek asked after a moment of complete silence.

"Thought I heard something too," Kiara said. "Down that way." They looked in the direction she indicated. It was down the crumbling sewer tunnel.

"Must be imagining it," Tek said. "Either way, don't want to go down there."

"She didn't imagine it," Girn defended Kiara. "I heard it the first time."

"What're we doing, Warren?" Gaunt asked. As the veteran of the group, he was automatically the leader when decisions like this one had to be made.

Warren pressed his knuckles into his eyes, something he did every time he was concentrating. Girn could see his indecisiveness. Like all of them, the sewerjack wanted to end his shift and be off to a tavern or brothel. But if something was down here and they hadn't taken care of it, then he was responsible.

"We'd better check it out," Warren eventually said. Gaunt, Sek, and Tek groaned while Kiara caught Girn's gaze and made her determination clear with a curt nod.

"Won't take long," she tried to console her companions and set off with a spring in her step. The rest followed her swaying strut from behind and Girn had to clear his throat to pull them from whatever thoughts they were having. But he admitted silently that he had glanced too.

"Right, let's go," Warren said, a slight note of embarrassment in his voice.

The lantern light was shuttered even further, making the dangerous corridor more ominous. At several places, water leaked down from the ceiling. After a while, the sound of voices came from ahead. One was clearly a well-spoken man. The other, however, was squeaky and shrill, clearly not belonging to a man or woman.

Warren looked at his men, uncertain on how to approach this situation. They were all tired and none provided him with any input other than gripping their weapons tighter. Warren sighed and gestured for them to move quietly forward. He completely shut of the light from the lantern and they sneaked around a corner in the tunnel.

"Here's payment," the well-spoken man said before Warren took away the lantern shutters and blinded the two figures with a bright light beam.

The one that had been talking was clearly a noble with a precisely tailored black uniform, neatly combed hair, and a haughty expression at the sudden intrusion. He offered a coin pouch with an extended arm. The recipient was much shorter. Its skin was greenish, its eyes red. As the second figure squinted in the sewerjacks' direction, it reached into its patchwork clothes.

"Goblins!" Sek yelled.

"Greenskins!" Tek screamed.

"Foolish human," the goblin hissed at the noble. "You were followed!"

"Stay where you are and drop any weapons," Warren tried to disarm the situation. There was courage in his voice Girn hadn't heard before, restoring his confidence in the group's leader. "Sek, Tek, put them in manacles."

The goblin suddenly pulled an orb from his clothing and threw it on the ground. "Die a hundred-hundred deaths, filthy humans!"

The orb shattered into a thousand pieces and smoke came billowing out. It was toxic yellow and expanded outward quickly.

"Hold your breath!" Kiara shouted.

Girn took a large gulp of air before the cloud enveloped him. Everything was dark. He couldn't see, wouldn't dare to breath, and was afraid to move or swing his weapons in fear of striking one of his companions. Girn felt his eyes begin to tear. His heart was pounding faster and louder. He knew that taking one breath of this toxic goblin smoke was to die horribly. But he couldn't hold his breath for much longer. He had to get out of the cloud and strode forward.

Girn's lungs were screaming for air as he emerged. The stale and stinky air of the sewers were now a welcome gift as it filled his lungs. He stood there, breathing heavily. Something bumped into his back. He turned and raised his weapons.

"Woah, it's me," Kiara said, holding both hands up. She had a wet piece of cloth tied around her face, covering mouth and nose.

Soon after, Warren and Gaunt came stumbling clear of the gas. "Where're the twins?" Warren wheezily asked while Gaunt was hacking and coughing and spitting.

"He's not breathing!" Tek called between deep breaths as he pulled his brother behind him. "He's not breathing!"

Sek was laid flat in the ankle-deep sewage. Girn knelt beside him and put his ear on Sek's chest. "Fuck, no heartbeat," he cursed. He quickly lifted one muscled arm and balled his hand into a fist. It came crunching down onto Sek's chest and his body jerked, then became still again. Girn repeated the process six times before Sek hurled out unhealthy-looking yellow phlegm and jerked up straight. The twin's eyes were wide in shock. Tek threw himself around his brother in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, thank you," Tek continuously whispered at Girn. Kiara put a hand on Girn's shoulder and squeezed gently, unspoken gratitude in her eyes. There was a prudent smile on her lips as she pulled the wet cloth form her face, the layer of soot and grease creasing, revealing pale skin underneath.

They all took a moment longer to compose themselves after the chaotic encounter. The poisonous cloud had dissipated.

"They both got away," Gaunt eventually said.

"What a fucking deduction," Warren threw out. "We're getting out of here. This was too close of a call with that accursed alchemical goblin weapon."

*****

Girn lay on his straw mattres and stared at the leak in the ceiling, rhythmically dripping water. Every night for the past two weeks, he had resolved that he would find better lodgings, but knew none would take in a barbarian like him. He was already lucky to have this dilapidated room.

His mind went over the events of the day. The officers of the sewerjacks and those of the City Watch had listened to Warren's report of the sighting of a goblin underneath Yeledor, but they had waved the notion of greenskins in the sewers off, especially ones that were secretly meeting with Yeledorian nobles. Girn and his companions could've easily been cold corpses, risking the encounter, but they had simply waved the notion of greenskins aside.

A rat scuttled across the room and darted into a hole in the wall. It made him think about goblins creeping through the subterranean tunnels and popping out of passages all around the city.

Girn couldn't stop thinking about the supposed purpose of a clandestine meeting between a goblin and noble? How could any of the two completely different beings benefit from dealing with the other? And why wouldn't the officers believe the report of a goblin skulking twenty feet beneath ground? He couldn't begin to imagine any appropriate answer to his own questions.

Footsteps in front of his door, clearly announced by the creaking boards. Girn reached for his greataxe. He could think of only two people who would visit him at this hour. Firstly, one of the women of pleasure from across the street come to offer her services. Secondly, and that was what his weapon was for, brigands come to rob him. Girn hoped it was the former as he could use the occasion to blow of some steam and relax his nerves.

There was a knock on the door.

"Who's there?" Girn called, silently cursing the creaking floorboards as he carefully edged closer to the door, ready for whoever it was on the other side. Girn relaxed when the response came in a delicate voice he recognized.

"It's Cassie."

Girn opened the door and saw two large burly men with two-handed mauls. But it was the petite woman they flanked that interested him. Cassie was an incredible sight; raven-black hair above a cute face with vibrant blue eyes, polished skin, and slightly pursed lips. She had a small amount of blush on her cheeks and wore a billowing emerald gown. Like most women of her profession, she carried her hair in such a style to keep it from her face. This evening it was a single thick braid arranged to rest on her shoulder and fall in front of her chest.

"Wait outside," Cassie told her guards and entered Girn's room.

In the presence of such a beautiful woman, Girn was always reminded of the ramshackle surroundings he was living in. A magnificent woman of pleasure like Cassie should never find herself in a place like this. She was employed in the Buxom Beauty across the street, but one of the many houses of pleasure along Low Street, renowned for its establishments offering all sorts of amusement. Initially, Girn had wanted to visit the Buxom Beauty but then Cassie had shown up at his door making an offer he could not refuse. Girn hadn't the need to cross the street since, Cassie returning regularly.

"Care for some entertainment tonight?" she asked.

"I would if I had the coin," Girn begrudgingly admitted.

"Oh Girn, come now," Cassie said daintily. "I thought you finally understood we are beyond payment. And don't give me that rant again about fair payment for services rendered. I'm a lady of pleasure, it's true, but sometimes there's more to gain than payment. You're the only one who can meet my desires and that's of more worth than a couple gold pieces. After a day of limp-dicked adulterating nobles, I'd like a real man, or strapping young barbarian, to manhandle me. So leave your unexpected civilized side behind and show me your true barbaric nature."

Girn grinned widely and chuckled. "Alright then," he said.

Cassie returned an equally wide smile. "You're easily convinced."

"You have that effect on me. Now get those clothes off."

Cassie was out of her clothes in an instant. She laid them neatly folded on a rare dry part of the floor and stood upright facing Girn. She was completely naked save for the lace stockings along her legs. She put her hands on her sides and swayed her hips from left to right and back. "Hope you're ready, I'm feeling extra feisty this evening," she said.

Not waiting for a comment, Cassie stepped closer but remained at arms length. She bent forward and her face hovered a handspan away from Girn's crotch. She pulled his loincloth down and placed her hands on Girn's thighs for support.

Before Girn knew it, Cassie had placed her lips on his glans and softly flicked her tongue along his tip. She then took more in her mouth and circled her tongue around the widest part of his cockhead. A shiver crept though his body, it felt amazing. Gradually, Cassie took more cock in her mouth, lips stretching around the shaft. Inch by inch Girn's cock was enveloped deeper until it hit the back of her throat. Cassie gagged but kept his cock edging down her throat.

As each time before, Girn found it astonishing the petite beauty was able to gobble down his thick cock. He had to remind himself that this was her profession, it was what she excelled in. He remembered his previous experiences with her and knew she was an avid deepthroater, not afraid to gag or choke on his large cock. He also knew she liked him to take control.

Girn placed his hands on the sides of her head and pushed himself slightly deeper. Cassie responded by gagging loudly and coughing on his cock, drool leaking down her chin. Girn began bucking his hips, his cock digging deep into Cassie's willing mouth. This thorough throat-fucking went on for a while, Cassie gagging and choking, the room filled with the sound of it. Not one time did she let Girn pull back out, keeping a firm grip on his thighs, encouraging him to bury his cock even further down her throat.

As a sign of sufficient deepthroating, Cassie tapped his thigh and pulled away. Long strings of saliva and precum dangled between her chin and his cock. Whatever kind of make-up circled her watery eyes had smeared and now encircled her eyes like a dark halo. Her bosom was glistening wet. Cassie gathered herself with a few deep breaths and regarded Girn with blazing passion. Girn returned the hungry gaze, devouring her body with his eyes.

Cassie's petite figure was pristine, an incredulous amount of beauty in such a small package. Her breasts were small but firm and gracefully adorning her chest. She took a wide stance, drawing Girn's eyes downwards to her already glistening folds. She had smooth outer lips that, when aroused, unfolded and revealed her pink soft inner lips, inviting Girn with their beguiling shine. She maintained a neatly trimmed triangle of hair above her folds while keeping the rest shaven. She had fit arms and thighs, the result of her physically demanding profession.

In short, Cassie was a horny little vixen and her body reflected that. She relished his admiration and performed a couple of small hops and a pirouette, her perky breasts and tight ass jiggling. Girn smiled and began stroking his cock, taking in the beauty of the lively woman of pleasure dancing in front of him.