Post by vammy on Oct 29, 2016 1:47:20 GMT -4
Historian Jav
They told me it was Monday; not enough time. I could only write so much before they would execute me, and for what else no true crime.
I swear to Silan, my God and your God equal that I was only in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those horrific Elven invaders excused me of being a criminal, scum any old uneducated fool who you could slumped over, drooling at a bar.
I had always heard the rumors, that elves didn't accept those of their own kind with green skin and of short stature; a goblin they called me, forcing me in with many others like cattle into this dark, damp and dreary cell underground where bugs would crawl everywhere and you would be lucky if the guard cared enough to feed you a moldy piece of bread they found being chewed on by some rats.
At first I was with the rest of my kin, but soon I was singled out due to a careless mistakes I knew better then to make. I was caught reading one of the signs that was written not in Goblish but in Elven; a guard made note of this. That not only was I literate I was also bilingual.
They began to interview me, making ridiculous claims that I was a spy or a valued politician. I tried to reason with them I truly tried my earnest to convince them I was just another Goblin but they already saw me read and to them that was all the proof they needed to have me executed by Friday.
Four days, how will I finish in four days what is supposed to be a life's work? My teachers told me I would have years to teach those younger then me the history of our culture, the mark us Goblins have left on the world but by now if I have been captured I can only imagine what has happened to them.
Terrible things come to mind, images of blood running like a red river throughout the streets of our cities; an Elven King sitting on a throne made of bones and that's not even the worst of it.
The worst of it would be our culture being lost to the winds of times and knowing I could of stopped it.
I must write, my whole race depends on me to do so.
I am Jav, short for Java; a coffee bean that grows rapidly in my home town of Veps. My mother claimed I was so wild when I was young that I must of been eating them whenever she wasn't looking. I don't know how she every came to that conclusion, every time I tried Java is tasted bitter and black not like a candy you would expect a child to munch on.
They told me it was Monday; not enough time. I could only write so much before they would execute me, and for what else no true crime.
I swear to Silan, my God and your God equal that I was only in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those horrific Elven invaders excused me of being a criminal, scum any old uneducated fool who you could slumped over, drooling at a bar.
I had always heard the rumors, that elves didn't accept those of their own kind with green skin and of short stature; a goblin they called me, forcing me in with many others like cattle into this dark, damp and dreary cell underground where bugs would crawl everywhere and you would be lucky if the guard cared enough to feed you a moldy piece of bread they found being chewed on by some rats.
At first I was with the rest of my kin, but soon I was singled out due to a careless mistakes I knew better then to make. I was caught reading one of the signs that was written not in Goblish but in Elven; a guard made note of this. That not only was I literate I was also bilingual.
They began to interview me, making ridiculous claims that I was a spy or a valued politician. I tried to reason with them I truly tried my earnest to convince them I was just another Goblin but they already saw me read and to them that was all the proof they needed to have me executed by Friday.
Four days, how will I finish in four days what is supposed to be a life's work? My teachers told me I would have years to teach those younger then me the history of our culture, the mark us Goblins have left on the world but by now if I have been captured I can only imagine what has happened to them.
Terrible things come to mind, images of blood running like a red river throughout the streets of our cities; an Elven King sitting on a throne made of bones and that's not even the worst of it.
The worst of it would be our culture being lost to the winds of times and knowing I could of stopped it.
I must write, my whole race depends on me to do so.
I am Jav, short for Java; a coffee bean that grows rapidly in my home town of Veps. My mother claimed I was so wild when I was young that I must of been eating them whenever she wasn't looking. I don't know how she every came to that conclusion, every time I tried Java is tasted bitter and black not like a candy you would expect a child to munch on.
