The Days Gone

Azrael and the man pretended to struggle under the weight of the boulders as they slowly approached the bridges. The Hobgoblins leered and jeered at their shambling figures, finding amusement in the perceived weakness.

Biting his lip, Azrael fought to ignore the mocking taunts. Rage surged through his veins, but he steeled himself, knowing that maintaining composure was crucial. One misstep, and their entire cover could be shattered.

As they crossed the first bridge, Azrael discreetly surveyed the cavern, carefully noting the positions of the Goblins and Hobogoblins. They were scattered throughout the area, but the majority were preoccupied with their daily tasks, paying little heed to the enslaved humans.

Azrael observed the dynamics between the humans and Goblins. Despite working under the same boss and performing similar tasks, there was a distinct lack of interaction between the two groups. The Goblins regarded the humans with disdain, considering them inferior, which led to a noticeable divide despite their shared labor.

Azrael and the man continued to feign weakness, swaying and staggering as they traversed the second bridge. The sting in Azrael's back intensified with each step, but he gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain to stay committed to his mission.

Suddenly, Azrael tripped, losing his balance and causing the boulder he was carrying to crash to the ground. The deafening noise reverberated through the cavern, catching the attention of nearby Hobogoblins.

"Oh, fuck me!" Azrael cursed under his breath.

A nearby Hobogoblin cracked his whip menacingly and marched toward the duo. Azrael's heart raced as he saw the whip swinging dangerously close to him. He knew that if he got whipped again on his already sore body, it would cause serious harm and put his mission at risk.

"Work! Hoomans Skum, WORK!" the Hobogoblin bellowed, his voice echoing through the cavern. The sound of the whip cracking filled the air, sending a shiver down Azrael's spine.

Azrael flinched, anticipating the impending pain, but to his surprise, the old man swiftly turned around and knelt, exposing his back to the Hobogoblin.

"Mercy, sir Gobu, mercy. This weak man can't carry any more rocks. Mercy, please, sir Gobu," the old man pleaded, fear evident in his trembling voice.

"SKUM WORK OR DIE!" the Hobogoblin sneered, showing no mercy. He raised his whip high and brought it down with a vicious strike. The whip hissed and whistled through the air, slicing into the old man's flesh, leaving a painful mark behind. The cavern echoed with the cruel sound of the whip, and Azrael felt a surge of anger and frustration.

Azrael's heart skipped a beat, a surge of rage boiling within him as he witnessed the cruel act of violence. The old man cried out in pain, his back lacerated from the vicious strike, blood trickling down and staining the ground beneath him.

Clutching his fists tightly, Azrael felt his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to suppress the overwhelming rage. He knew he couldn't afford to blow his cover, no matter how much he yearned to unleash his anger in retaliation against the brutality unfolding before him.

Another vicious slash came down, striking the old man with even more force. Azrael's hands clenched into fists, trembling with fury as he fought against the overwhelming urge to intervene.

'Damn it! Damn it!' Azrael cursed inwardly, his heart pounding with a mixture of anger and helplessness.

As the old man writhed in agony on the ground, his cries echoing through the cavern, the Hobogoblin's cruelty knew no bounds. With a vile smirk, the Hobogoblin spat a wad of yellow mucus onto the old man's wounds, causing him to scream out in even greater agony. The sight only fueled Azrael's fury further, but he knew he had to maintain his composure at all costs.

"WORK OR DIE, HUMAN SKUM!!!"

With that chilling declaration, the Hobogoblin resumed his stroll, showing no acknowledgment towards Azrael. The cavern's sudden silence was shattered by the continued whipping sounds from various corners, accompanied by the anguished screams and pleas of the humans.

Azrael knelt beside the old man, assisting him in getting back on his feet. As he inspected the elderly man's injuries, he was horrified by the gruesome sight. The lacerations ran deep, the wounds oozing with blood and pus.

"I'm sorry, old man," Azrael whispered, his heart heavy with guilt for not being able to prevent the cruel punishment.

"N-no, young man. You've done enough," the old man replied, his voice strained with pain. "Save them, please. You may think I must be a fool to trust a kid like you, but...our hopes of getting saved have dwindled to the point that we will grasp at any straws...any hope, no matter how minuscule."

Azrael gritted his teeth, his resolve hardening. He would not let this man's sacrifice go to waste. Determined, he helped the old man stand up.

"Can you still move?" Azrael asked.

"Yes, young man. Please save them, our hopes lie in you," the old man replied, his eyes brimming with tears, a glimmer of hope shining through despite the pain and despair.

Azrael nodded in acknowledgment, then resumed hauling boulders, his muscles straining against the weight as he staggered towards the third bridge. The old man followed suit, his movements labored as he dragged his feet along.

As they crossed the third bridge, the Goblins and Hobogoblins scarcely spared them a glance, completely absorbed in their tasks. Azrael seized the opportunity to discreetly survey the surrounding structures and pathways, carefully plotting his next move as they moved deeper into the cavern.

Upon reaching the fourth bridge, Azrael discreetly surveyed the cavern, carefully noting the positions of the Goblins and Hobogoblins. With only one more bridge to traverse, he could now see the slope that connected the bridges to the ground level.

Determined, he hastened his steps towards the last bridge, keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings as he approached the crucial point in his mission.

Azrael lowered his voice and leaned in, asking with a sense of urgency, "What's behind that massive door?"

The old man's eyes widened slightly as he whispered back, "No one knows for sure. It's been a mystery, hidden away from prying eyes. But we've heard strange sounds emanating from within—deep grunts and huffs echoing in the darkness. Some say it's the Goblin Chief's private chamber, but others believe it holds something far more sinister."

'So I was right. Behind that massive door lies the Goblin Chief.' Azrael smiled, a sense of relief washing over him.

"What about his food? There must be a way to get inside to give him food, right?" he inquired.

The old man shared a secretive glance with Azrael before responding, "Near the bottom center of the left door, there's a small door that connects to the inside. Goblins or Hobogoblins bring food inside from there."

Azrael's smile widened, his plan solidifying in his mind.

Upon reaching the fifth bridge, Azrael skillfully feigned weakness, leaning against the railing as if catching his breath.

"What food does that thing eat?" Azrael inquired, making eye contact with some smaller green goblins who were mining near the bridge. Their faulty smiles showcased a row of rotten yellow teeth.

"Humans, mostly," the old man replied, and Azrael's expression fell. "I've even seen them bring a massive Pellickin Mammoth. All tied and dragged with more than a few hundred humans and goblins alike. Ha, it was during the early days."

"Pellickin Mammoth...? The Pellickin Mammoth?" Azrael uttered in disbelief.

"Yes, young man. The Pellickin Mammoth, you probably know that thing, right? Big, hairy, with tusks made of crystal--"

"I know what a Pellickin Mammoth is. I've seen its skeleton," Azrael said in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the old man with growing trepidation. "When...when did you see it?"

The old man's eyes darkened with a haunted glimmer as he replied, "It was during the early days, when the Goblin Chief first rose to power. The ground shook beneath our feet as they dragged it in, its roars echoing through the caverns. It was a sight to behold, and a terror that haunts my dreams to this day."

"When, old man? When was it?" Azrael pressed urgently.

The old man paused, deep in thought. "A couple of months ago? Why do you ask?"

"Old man, how..." Azrael swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "How long have you been here?" He struggled to get the words out.

"Uh... a year at max, why, son? What's the matter with that look?" the old man inquired, puzzled by Azrael's intensity.

Azrael cursed under his breath, clenching his fists in anger.

"The Pellickin Mammoth... went extinct a century ago."