- Pronouns
- He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
This story is also readable in game, there are several copies available.
Short summary (also the end of the sequel): The Full Story of Murrgarog, the Greylings and the Dwarves. These books form a myth that many Greylings know. Because it reminds them of the dangers that lay in digging deep and leaving caverns unexplored. It also shows the love and skill of Greylings to obtain riches from the earth. It reminds them of the presence of Queen Grief, wherever they go. It shows the everlasting battle between Dwarves and Greylings for subterranean Altera. How Dwarves might be armed with better equipment, but still Greylings can when in great numbers, fast and cunningly enough, win any war.
Murrgarog. Pt 1.
This book contains one of the many Greyling Myths… This Myth is called: “The Rise of Murrgarog”. This is part one of the story about this beast. The other is “The Death of Murrgarog”.
Queen Grief was just done with her first battles and the Greylings somehow got themselves separated from her grasp. She made them, but they hated and feared her above anything else. This is the time that this myth took place...
At first the Greylings traveled in big tribes, consisting of many clans. They explored caverns and wandered through subterranean Altera. These tribes consisted over two hundred Greylings each and there were five of these big tribes. There were also some smaller tribes, but all of them travelled in any direction of Altera, to find their home. One of the big tribes found a cavern, the likes of which you will never find in the present days of Altera. It was enormous, dark, with some big subterranean fishing lakes and so full of riches, that it would take them generations to dig out. They stopped traveling after many years and made this huge cavern-system their home. The Greyling tribe explored the cavern and found that it had many halls and in the middle a small open space with huge crystals. They delved this room for generations and so the first generation came to pass and a new generation came into being. The Greylings dug and delved the minerals out of the small room with a ferocious lust. The small room became bigger and bigger. Soon it was very wide with an enormously high ceiling. In this room, the riches were stacked into a huge pile of sh ittering gold, diamonds, emerald, sapphires and whatever riches they could find more. They praised the earth in this room for what they have found. From this very room, they started to rid the tunnels of their riches. These tunnels became their homes. Slimy, mossy, shroomy, smelly, damp and wet homes. This is what true Greylings like the most. This tribe was huge and it already hold over three hundred Greylings. But the tribe was still growing. The Clans within the tribe didn’t fight, because there was nothing to fight over (except for women, but those caused minor casualties), cause there was an enormous amount of riches. So, the tribe grew and Greylings prospered, eating from their huge storage of mushrooms and fish from the subterranean water-pools and lakes. They grew in numbers so fast, that soon there was too little space in the cavern. A group of tough looking muscular Greylings had to dig through the rocks instead of through riches to make room for newly born. These Greylings were bigger and more muscular than the other clans, for otherwise they could never be able to wield a pickaxe. It was during one of their mining sessions when it happened…
They broke through a wall into another separate cavern. This one was darker, full of black thick smoke, without clean air and without any riches. The walls were blackened and the floor was covered with dry dust. The mining Greylings looked around, their eyes were fit to look through darkness, but unfit to look through this black smoke. The Greylings ran back to their homes. They told the others what they had encountered. Out of fear, the tribe decided never to go near that place again and left the hole right where it was. Uncovered, black and smoking. A bad idea…
While the Greyling Tribe lived a reasonable happy life, still in fear of being called by Queen Grief to serve once more, a beast was moving through the separate cavern, through the smoke. It’s rusty scales scratched the walls of his cavern as he walked down. His pointy claws dug deep into the dry dust. His deformed arms, twice as long as his legs, grabbed the sides of the cavern. It marched down to a pool of lava and drank from it. The heat of the lava turning his black scales into red pieces of steaming metal. He sniffed the air, for it had no eyes. After every sniff he breathed black smoke out, clouding the air. When he was done drinking, the lava around its awful looking big mouth and tusks turned to stone. He shook the rocks off his mouth, scratching them from his tusks with his two giant hands. On each hand two fingers and a thumb with giant nails like stakes on them, big enough to stab a boar. It walked on his two back feet, grabbing the walls with his hands again, feeling around for gold to devour, for it was hungry and had no eyes. His ribs showed from behind his thick leather chest, so thick it could not be slashed with any regular tool we now possess. He walked back from the lava pool and was sniffing and feeling the space around him, for it had horns at its knees and elbows, but no eyes. Suddenly air reached his nostrils, unusually thin air. He sniffed again, this was clean air and it smelled like shiny heaps of food. The beast started running, his big clumsy body smashing into and through walls, for it had no eyes. His head banging against the ceiling of the cavern and his feet making the cavern shake…
The Greylings stood still… They stood there, around their magnificent pile of riches, performing one of their rituals to thank the earth for what it had given. The beast bashed through the door, which was too small. It bashed through the wall above and ran right into the enormous room, with the huge ceiling. There, his claws clawed the air. No longer in a cavern, no longer feeling the walls, it stood still… The Greylings were all silent… Trembling with fear for a second, then shouting and running in all directions. The beast roared and clawed at the sound that reached the holes that were his ears. The enormous figure, twenty or more Greylings tall and black as coal, ran towards the heap of riches. His arms like windmill-blades, he jumped on top of it and his foul mouth opened. He grabbed at the riches, without preference, for it had a giant black mouth, but it had no eyes. It took the riches, devouring them fast and with enormous amounts. Black fumes coming from his nostrils as he breathed heavily. The Greylings were desperate and shouted and jumped, but none could do anything to this blackened rage. It already ate the top from the pile, but still its hunger was unfulfilled…
A clan of expert climbing Greylings climbed the walls, up to the ceiling and dropped themselves through the black smoke onto the beast. They clawed at it, they bit it, but his metal scales protected the beast from any harm. They then climbed to his chest and clawed at it and bit it, he felt that. With one mighty blow of his arm he smacked them to the ground and kept on eating the riches, for it was hungry and had no eyes. The greylings went mad and in their frustration they attacked the beast. With deafening roars and scratching claws it smashed one Greyling after another into the walls. Spreading the black smoke with every awful growl. It stamped and hit, the Greylings clawed and bit, but none could harm the terrifying monster. None of the attackers survived…
Even the Tribe-Leader was smashed into one of the few pillars in this giant room, that held the ceiling up. The Tribe-Leader lay there and the remaining few Greylings ran towards him. He told them “This is Murrgarog, ‘He Without Eyes’ and he has come to deliver us our penance. Murrgarog, the punisher. We love our shiny riches for they are good for those with eyes. If he would have had eyes, he would never have chosen to eat such beautiful shining things. So the beast devours it, to punish us.” The leader died there, on the pillar…
The remaining Greylings looked in the direction of the beast, but could no longer see it, for it was clouded in the black smoke that it breathed. They could hear the beast devouring the treasure, but they couldn’t see their treasure anymore, for the smoke was everywhere and now also hid the Leader. They ran… They ran and they blocked the exit of the cavern. They ran…
Here ends part one of Murrgarog, He without eyes, The Punisher. To read more, Look for the second book: “The Death of Murrgarog”.
Murrgarog. Pt 2.
This book contains the sequel to “The Rise of Murrgarog”. It’s advised to read that book first. This book is called “The Death of Murrgarog” and is one of the few of the many Greyling Myths that has not yet gone missing.
Weeks have gone to pass since the remaining Greylings fled their beloved home for the black malice. Those who encountered any of the Greylings were confronted with a shaking, trembling Greyling, telling a story of enormous wealth, shaking of caverns and a beast as tall as thirty Greylings that hides himself in thick black smoke. The part about the enormous wealth is what was of great interest to a dwarf when he ran into one of these Greylings one day. This dwarf was just returning from a mining trip when he heard the patter of feet coming from the dark behind him. A panting sound he heard as the dwarf turned around, readying his pickaxe. A grey disfigured shape became visible from the dark. The dwarf was about to strike it with his axe, when he saw how exhausted the creature was. He lowered his pickaxe and looked at it. The Greyling sat in front of him, slowly catching his breath and relaxing his muscles. After a few minutes it spoke of a black menace called ‘Murrgarog, the punisher’. At first the dwarf was scared of the sound of this terrifying raging monster, but the mentioning of piles and piles of riches awoke his interest. Normally he would have hated this creature. A Greyling, stealing riches from their underground world. But now he felt so happy with a quest for gold and diamonds that is still to come, that he gave the exhausted Greyling, that had run for weeks, some food. The Greyling took it with great delight and ate it. Otherwise he would never take food from a dwarf, who was part of a race that stole riches from their underground world. But now he was so exhausted that he could not refuse this kind of offer. The Dwarf took the Greyling to the home of the Dwarven King, along with the great news of fortune.
The Dwarf arrived in the hall of the King. Hewn from the toughest of rocks, this hall stood proud underneath a giant mountain. It was enormous, its ceiling high and supported by two columns of giant pillars. At the sides of the pillars the ceiling came down a bit and yet another row of pillars stretched towards the seat of the king. Behind these rows there were many dwarves working. They were refining ores and cutting gems, weighing gold for its price. This was the capital of the Dwarves and on the throne was Kalrag, the Dwarven King. The king had a mighty posture and looked as though he had all the knowledge in the world. His beard long, full and wide. Decorative plates of gold hung from his shoulders over his arms and a pointy crown sat on top of his head, filled with the most amazing of gems. The miner was granted an audition and told the king what the Greyling had told him. The King reacted with a grin underneath his beard. “Thes’ piles o’ gold belong te us, as we’re ‘ta rightful inhabitants o’ subterranean Altera. ‘ta longer we wait, ‘ta moar ‘te beast’ll devour. We mus’ go as fast as we can. General Dorm’ll rally our best troops and t’en we’ll march fer ‘tis cave!”
The Dwarves pressured the Greyling to tell them the way back to their cave, they made him tell it. So the Greyling lead the way as the Dwarven troop followed him. A giant army of pike-dwarves, axe-throwers and swords-dwarves under the banner of King Kalrag marched towards the blocked entrance. They arrived after a long journey through the dark. They first took a rest and then broke through the blocked entrance. When the first hole through was made, black smoke curled into the cavern where the Dwarven Army stood. The Dwarves mumbled, so it is true, the beast is there and has cloud itself in black smoke… They took the rubble aside and bravely marched through the smoke, into the blackness. The Greyling was released and ran off to his brothers of the other tribes, to tell the terrible news…
Murrgarog sniffed and breathed out black smoke. He knew a horde of creatures were entering his domain, yet he did not know what these creatures were, for they did not smell like Greylings. The beast lay on top of the pile of riches. He did not eat much of it, for he liked the feeling of the hewn riches. He had been feeding on the gems and ores that were still attached to the rocks and left the pile as a bath to bade in. It did not need a place to sleep, for it had no eyes…
The Dwarves entered the giant hall, yet they did not see much of it, for the smoke clouded their vision. A roar came from the darkness, the beast knew they were there… “Formations! Pikedwarves in front! Keep yer pikes up! Axe-throwers, ger ready! This’ll be ‘ta fight of our age, me lads!” The general grinned in the darkness, not afraid of the roars of the beast that replied to the shouting of the general. First they saw the smoke move in a very particular way and then a claw as big as three dwarves with nails on it as long as two pikes. It missed them, it clawed the air. “Axe-throwers! Fire ‘way! Throw them axes fer them ‘ta harm ‘tat filth of a beast!” They threw their axes and heard a terrifying scream. The chest and eye-less head appeared through the smoke, axes stuck in its chest. It smacked its claw into the pike-dwarves, roaring with pain of the pikes that penetrated his thick leather hands. A blow of his arm swept away the first row of pike-dwarves. It bit half a garrison of axe-throwers from the army and then returned into the smoke. “’tat beast is from ‘ta nether! Ae tell ye! Purge it frem our treasure! Send it back ta ‘te fiery pits from where it came!” General Drom shouted and ran to the front. “Come with me, ‘ave no fear! Today we bathe in gold!” The army ran to where the beast was last seen and shouted their war chants. A bloody battle followed. Black blood spattered over the dwarves as their pikes and axes ran into the body of the beast. The beast clawed at the army and soon its nails were entangled in chainmail and body-parts of Dwarves. Drom threw a pike at the beasts head, hoping to hit its eyes, but it had no eyes and the pike rebounded from its skull. The beast tried to bite and so crush the general, black fumes coming from its nose, but it missed. The few seconds they saw the beast appearing from the shadows were devastating for their morale.
The heads of dead Dwarves rolled in front of the legs of the living. It seemed to become a massacre… The beast wind-milled with its arms and accidentally hit one of the few pillars in the room. A deafening cracking sound followed as both the bones of the beast and the pillar itself broke. With a rumbling noise the upper part of the pillar came down and with it, a minor part of the ceiling. It was raining rocks on both the beast and the dwarves. The Dwarven army was weakened and had to retreat. Half of the army was dead and the beast roared a deafening growl. The rain of rocks stopped and the dwarves regrouped. They waited… No sound was heard. Was Murrgarog defeated? The Dwarves waited…
Slowly the smoke in the room began to grow thinner. As the smoke slowly cleared, the body of the beast became visible. It’s neck shattered and his head severed by a large boulder that had fallen from the high ceiling. The dwarves slowly walked towards it and stood in a wide circle, gazing at it. “Told ye we’d be bathin’ in gold t’day…” Whispered the general…
Here ends part two of Murrgarog, He without eyes, The Punisher. To read more, Look for the sequal book: "Murrgarog Sequal"
Murrgarog Sequel: The end of things.
This book contains the end of the myth of Murrgarog, he without eyes, the punisher. It is the sequel to Murrgarog Pt. I and II. It is advised to read those first, if you can find them, before reading this book.
“If you weren’t of any value I would have torn your head off!” The Greyling Tribe-leader said. The Greyling that led the Dwarves to Murrgarog shivered in fear. He was starving from running and searching for the other Greyling tribe. He had just told the leader of the tribe everything. The only reason he was still alive was because he knew the route the Dwarves would take, back to their capital, because it were the same routes the greyling took, leading them to the beast. He kneeled in front of the huge chair of the leader. He lay with his head on the floor, shaking. The room they were in was dark, with a few faint lights coming from one of the many tunnels that led to this room. An enormous crowd of Greylings stood around him and the leader. They were curious what had come to pass and what the leader would decide. From all over the cavern Greylings came to see what was happening. Even the walls were covered with curious eyes, focused on the two. The chair itself was made of roots and vines. It was a rather big thing, looking bizarre and freakish. The needle-like branches towering above the head of the leader. The leader was enormously big for a Greyling, four Greylings tall and sat with a mighty confidence, ticking the chair with his claw like fingers. His name was Sharik. He was thinking, you could see his heartbeat in the veins that ran over the sides of his head. His arms, legs and torso were a bit hairy, but he did not have much hair on his head. He then stood up, looking even taller. “Dwarven scum!” He yelled, and then he cursed in his native tongue. “These precious stones and ores belong to us and us alone!” He shouted and banged the chair with his hand. He ran quickly towards the tired Greyling and brought his head right in front of the head of the exhausted Greyling. “You will guide our army to the route which the Dwarven scum will take...” Then he looked around at the crowd that had amassed around them. “There we will ambush that Dwarven spawn and take back what belongs to the Greylings! Subterranean Altera belongs to us, the underground world belongs to us, each and every cavern belongs to us!” He kept raising his voice. “We have been invaded by these fat beings and we can’t do anything against their spikes and spears, axes and attacks. Gather now! We will take back what is ours! We leave now!” So the Greyling Leader spoke and so the Greyling crowd cheered awful cackles and made noise to applaud the leader's words. They followed the leader who was already running after the exhausted Greyling, who was leading the way. Greylings came out from every hole and crevice of the cavern they called their home and hurried to keep up with the rushing flow of their kin. They did not take any weapons, for they had none...
The Dwarves were sorting the gems and ores in the giant room. Placing the small gold pieces with each other and the large gold pieces with each other, separating the ores from the gems. They had taken a rest for a whole day to recover from the fight that the beast Murrgarog had delivered. “’tat head’ll look nicely above ‘ta mighty hearth of our King!” Dorm said, as he rolled the head away from the body and gems. Sorting the gems and ores was a tiring job, but they knew that they had to be fast, before the greylings would discover the beast was dead. It took them a day to get the biggest gems and ores out and lift them into carts. “we will take what we can carry, we will come back later with a mining party to pick up the rest.” And so the Dwarves deserted the room of riches. Leaving in the direction whence they came. They didn’t make any haste this time. They had enough supplies and food to continue the journey for another month. They knew they would need at least two weeks to get back to their home. In peace, not jolly because of the gems, neither too sad because of their losses, they went home…
After a week, once again they took a stop to eat something and take a breather. On the crossing of four tunnels they set up camp and made some fires. The beaten army was eating in silence when they heard it… First, it was a vague sound, sounding like a rush of wind, they were barely able to hear it… Then, they heard it wasn’t just wind. It grew louder and then faded, louder and fading, louder and fading… A deep bass that was hit and then faded… Boooooiiiiing…. Boooooiiiing…. All of the sudden, every dwarf recognized the sound and all of their eyes widened. The Greyling War-Gong. In the distance, they could hear screams and screaks, cackles and hisses. Oh yes, the Dwarves knew they were coming. But they all hoped and thought they would not take the same route as they were taking. They shouted and took up arms. Grabbing their iron mails and trying to put them on, but the Greylings already appeared from the darkness of one of the tunnels. First they saw small figures moving towards them through the shadows of the cave. Then they could not make out which figure was who, for the big amount of figures blended and formed a mass. The shadows were even crawling at the sides of the tunnel, coming ever closer in a very high speed. The dwarves looked at it, then tried to put their armor on, but they couldn’t focus, cause the screams of the Greylings were terrifying and they kept on looking to the black mass of things. Then, the Greyling army reached the light of the fires of the Dwarves and their ugly, disfigured faces and bodies became visible, as they ran towards the dwarves on all fours. The first ones were already very closed and jumped onto the closest dwarves. Five greylings on each dwarf, they stood no chance…
The dwarves that were further away had more time and were now armored and ready to fight. They took their axes and pikes and hacked into the first Greylings. They fought valiantly against the hordes of Greylings, cutting off limbs and heads. Yet, it was for no cause, for in the far darkness a huge figure detached himself from the black mass. It was twice as large as a dwarf and was holding a huge weapon. Sharik had come. He came into the light of the fire, showing his head bumping with thick veins, his big dark eyes staring from their dark sockets and looking around viciously. His needle-like teeth in a sarcastic grin. No doubt, this Greyling enjoyed the slaughter of Dwarves. He stroke the heads of the Greylings that were feeding on the dead dwarves. He passed by and took his weapon, which appeared to be a huge root, filled with needles and other sharp iron objects. He smacked into the dwarves around him, leaving them spilling out their blood on the cold, rocky floor…
The remaining dwarves backed away from the giant Greyling, the tribe-leader. They stood in a circle, back to back. Amongst them was also Dorm, the general. He waved his sword ferociously, cutting at the Greylings that were still coming at them. “Ye filth frem ‘ta pits of ‘ta Nether! Grief-Spawn! Ger off of me kin! Ae slice yer skulls, Ae cut yer throats, Ae crush yer backs!” He raged. Some Greylings were impressed by his raging and screaked or hissed. They backed off when the giant Greyling stepped into sight. Sharik talked to Dorm in his native Greyling tongue. “So it is you who led the army that took the treasures that my kin worked so hard on to obtain?” The tones of this language were hard, foul, sounded slithering and contained a lot of spitting. “Ae’ll ‘ave yer head ‘n hang it above ‘ta hearth like Murrgarog’s!” Growled Dorm. The Tribe-leader cackled and gurgled, spitting out the slime from his throat. Removing the grin from his face, it continued in common tongue, for it still knew this language from his days before Queen Grief. “We will kills you, and all of yous kin! One day, the dwarfses will be puuuurged.” The leader threw his head in his neck when it spoke the last word and cackled evilly. Before Dorm could answer, the giant root with iron nails flung against the generals head, making it crack open, its brain shooting out. The leader roared and growled, screaming fear into the remaining dwarves. Their leader dead, morale gone. They were easy victims…
So ends the Full Story of Murrgarog, the Greylings and the Dwarves. These books form a myth that many Greylings know. Because it reminds them of the dangers that lay in digging deep and leaving caverns unexplored. It also shows the love and skill of Greylings to obtain riches from the earth. It reminds them of the presence of Queen Grief, wherever they go. It shows the everlasting battle between Dwarves and Greylings for subterranean Altera. How Dwarves might be armed with better equipment, but still Greylings can when in great numbers, fast and cunningly enough, win any war.
Short summary (also the end of the sequel): The Full Story of Murrgarog, the Greylings and the Dwarves. These books form a myth that many Greylings know. Because it reminds them of the dangers that lay in digging deep and leaving caverns unexplored. It also shows the love and skill of Greylings to obtain riches from the earth. It reminds them of the presence of Queen Grief, wherever they go. It shows the everlasting battle between Dwarves and Greylings for subterranean Altera. How Dwarves might be armed with better equipment, but still Greylings can when in great numbers, fast and cunningly enough, win any war.
Murrgarog. Pt 1.
This book contains one of the many Greyling Myths… This Myth is called: “The Rise of Murrgarog”. This is part one of the story about this beast. The other is “The Death of Murrgarog”.
Queen Grief was just done with her first battles and the Greylings somehow got themselves separated from her grasp. She made them, but they hated and feared her above anything else. This is the time that this myth took place...
At first the Greylings traveled in big tribes, consisting of many clans. They explored caverns and wandered through subterranean Altera. These tribes consisted over two hundred Greylings each and there were five of these big tribes. There were also some smaller tribes, but all of them travelled in any direction of Altera, to find their home. One of the big tribes found a cavern, the likes of which you will never find in the present days of Altera. It was enormous, dark, with some big subterranean fishing lakes and so full of riches, that it would take them generations to dig out. They stopped traveling after many years and made this huge cavern-system their home. The Greyling tribe explored the cavern and found that it had many halls and in the middle a small open space with huge crystals. They delved this room for generations and so the first generation came to pass and a new generation came into being. The Greylings dug and delved the minerals out of the small room with a ferocious lust. The small room became bigger and bigger. Soon it was very wide with an enormously high ceiling. In this room, the riches were stacked into a huge pile of sh ittering gold, diamonds, emerald, sapphires and whatever riches they could find more. They praised the earth in this room for what they have found. From this very room, they started to rid the tunnels of their riches. These tunnels became their homes. Slimy, mossy, shroomy, smelly, damp and wet homes. This is what true Greylings like the most. This tribe was huge and it already hold over three hundred Greylings. But the tribe was still growing. The Clans within the tribe didn’t fight, because there was nothing to fight over (except for women, but those caused minor casualties), cause there was an enormous amount of riches. So, the tribe grew and Greylings prospered, eating from their huge storage of mushrooms and fish from the subterranean water-pools and lakes. They grew in numbers so fast, that soon there was too little space in the cavern. A group of tough looking muscular Greylings had to dig through the rocks instead of through riches to make room for newly born. These Greylings were bigger and more muscular than the other clans, for otherwise they could never be able to wield a pickaxe. It was during one of their mining sessions when it happened…
They broke through a wall into another separate cavern. This one was darker, full of black thick smoke, without clean air and without any riches. The walls were blackened and the floor was covered with dry dust. The mining Greylings looked around, their eyes were fit to look through darkness, but unfit to look through this black smoke. The Greylings ran back to their homes. They told the others what they had encountered. Out of fear, the tribe decided never to go near that place again and left the hole right where it was. Uncovered, black and smoking. A bad idea…
While the Greyling Tribe lived a reasonable happy life, still in fear of being called by Queen Grief to serve once more, a beast was moving through the separate cavern, through the smoke. It’s rusty scales scratched the walls of his cavern as he walked down. His pointy claws dug deep into the dry dust. His deformed arms, twice as long as his legs, grabbed the sides of the cavern. It marched down to a pool of lava and drank from it. The heat of the lava turning his black scales into red pieces of steaming metal. He sniffed the air, for it had no eyes. After every sniff he breathed black smoke out, clouding the air. When he was done drinking, the lava around its awful looking big mouth and tusks turned to stone. He shook the rocks off his mouth, scratching them from his tusks with his two giant hands. On each hand two fingers and a thumb with giant nails like stakes on them, big enough to stab a boar. It walked on his two back feet, grabbing the walls with his hands again, feeling around for gold to devour, for it was hungry and had no eyes. His ribs showed from behind his thick leather chest, so thick it could not be slashed with any regular tool we now possess. He walked back from the lava pool and was sniffing and feeling the space around him, for it had horns at its knees and elbows, but no eyes. Suddenly air reached his nostrils, unusually thin air. He sniffed again, this was clean air and it smelled like shiny heaps of food. The beast started running, his big clumsy body smashing into and through walls, for it had no eyes. His head banging against the ceiling of the cavern and his feet making the cavern shake…
The Greylings stood still… They stood there, around their magnificent pile of riches, performing one of their rituals to thank the earth for what it had given. The beast bashed through the door, which was too small. It bashed through the wall above and ran right into the enormous room, with the huge ceiling. There, his claws clawed the air. No longer in a cavern, no longer feeling the walls, it stood still… The Greylings were all silent… Trembling with fear for a second, then shouting and running in all directions. The beast roared and clawed at the sound that reached the holes that were his ears. The enormous figure, twenty or more Greylings tall and black as coal, ran towards the heap of riches. His arms like windmill-blades, he jumped on top of it and his foul mouth opened. He grabbed at the riches, without preference, for it had a giant black mouth, but it had no eyes. It took the riches, devouring them fast and with enormous amounts. Black fumes coming from his nostrils as he breathed heavily. The Greylings were desperate and shouted and jumped, but none could do anything to this blackened rage. It already ate the top from the pile, but still its hunger was unfulfilled…
A clan of expert climbing Greylings climbed the walls, up to the ceiling and dropped themselves through the black smoke onto the beast. They clawed at it, they bit it, but his metal scales protected the beast from any harm. They then climbed to his chest and clawed at it and bit it, he felt that. With one mighty blow of his arm he smacked them to the ground and kept on eating the riches, for it was hungry and had no eyes. The greylings went mad and in their frustration they attacked the beast. With deafening roars and scratching claws it smashed one Greyling after another into the walls. Spreading the black smoke with every awful growl. It stamped and hit, the Greylings clawed and bit, but none could harm the terrifying monster. None of the attackers survived…
Even the Tribe-Leader was smashed into one of the few pillars in this giant room, that held the ceiling up. The Tribe-Leader lay there and the remaining few Greylings ran towards him. He told them “This is Murrgarog, ‘He Without Eyes’ and he has come to deliver us our penance. Murrgarog, the punisher. We love our shiny riches for they are good for those with eyes. If he would have had eyes, he would never have chosen to eat such beautiful shining things. So the beast devours it, to punish us.” The leader died there, on the pillar…
The remaining Greylings looked in the direction of the beast, but could no longer see it, for it was clouded in the black smoke that it breathed. They could hear the beast devouring the treasure, but they couldn’t see their treasure anymore, for the smoke was everywhere and now also hid the Leader. They ran… They ran and they blocked the exit of the cavern. They ran…
Here ends part one of Murrgarog, He without eyes, The Punisher. To read more, Look for the second book: “The Death of Murrgarog”.
Murrgarog. Pt 2.
This book contains the sequel to “The Rise of Murrgarog”. It’s advised to read that book first. This book is called “The Death of Murrgarog” and is one of the few of the many Greyling Myths that has not yet gone missing.
Weeks have gone to pass since the remaining Greylings fled their beloved home for the black malice. Those who encountered any of the Greylings were confronted with a shaking, trembling Greyling, telling a story of enormous wealth, shaking of caverns and a beast as tall as thirty Greylings that hides himself in thick black smoke. The part about the enormous wealth is what was of great interest to a dwarf when he ran into one of these Greylings one day. This dwarf was just returning from a mining trip when he heard the patter of feet coming from the dark behind him. A panting sound he heard as the dwarf turned around, readying his pickaxe. A grey disfigured shape became visible from the dark. The dwarf was about to strike it with his axe, when he saw how exhausted the creature was. He lowered his pickaxe and looked at it. The Greyling sat in front of him, slowly catching his breath and relaxing his muscles. After a few minutes it spoke of a black menace called ‘Murrgarog, the punisher’. At first the dwarf was scared of the sound of this terrifying raging monster, but the mentioning of piles and piles of riches awoke his interest. Normally he would have hated this creature. A Greyling, stealing riches from their underground world. But now he felt so happy with a quest for gold and diamonds that is still to come, that he gave the exhausted Greyling, that had run for weeks, some food. The Greyling took it with great delight and ate it. Otherwise he would never take food from a dwarf, who was part of a race that stole riches from their underground world. But now he was so exhausted that he could not refuse this kind of offer. The Dwarf took the Greyling to the home of the Dwarven King, along with the great news of fortune.
The Dwarf arrived in the hall of the King. Hewn from the toughest of rocks, this hall stood proud underneath a giant mountain. It was enormous, its ceiling high and supported by two columns of giant pillars. At the sides of the pillars the ceiling came down a bit and yet another row of pillars stretched towards the seat of the king. Behind these rows there were many dwarves working. They were refining ores and cutting gems, weighing gold for its price. This was the capital of the Dwarves and on the throne was Kalrag, the Dwarven King. The king had a mighty posture and looked as though he had all the knowledge in the world. His beard long, full and wide. Decorative plates of gold hung from his shoulders over his arms and a pointy crown sat on top of his head, filled with the most amazing of gems. The miner was granted an audition and told the king what the Greyling had told him. The King reacted with a grin underneath his beard. “Thes’ piles o’ gold belong te us, as we’re ‘ta rightful inhabitants o’ subterranean Altera. ‘ta longer we wait, ‘ta moar ‘te beast’ll devour. We mus’ go as fast as we can. General Dorm’ll rally our best troops and t’en we’ll march fer ‘tis cave!”
The Dwarves pressured the Greyling to tell them the way back to their cave, they made him tell it. So the Greyling lead the way as the Dwarven troop followed him. A giant army of pike-dwarves, axe-throwers and swords-dwarves under the banner of King Kalrag marched towards the blocked entrance. They arrived after a long journey through the dark. They first took a rest and then broke through the blocked entrance. When the first hole through was made, black smoke curled into the cavern where the Dwarven Army stood. The Dwarves mumbled, so it is true, the beast is there and has cloud itself in black smoke… They took the rubble aside and bravely marched through the smoke, into the blackness. The Greyling was released and ran off to his brothers of the other tribes, to tell the terrible news…
Murrgarog sniffed and breathed out black smoke. He knew a horde of creatures were entering his domain, yet he did not know what these creatures were, for they did not smell like Greylings. The beast lay on top of the pile of riches. He did not eat much of it, for he liked the feeling of the hewn riches. He had been feeding on the gems and ores that were still attached to the rocks and left the pile as a bath to bade in. It did not need a place to sleep, for it had no eyes…
The Dwarves entered the giant hall, yet they did not see much of it, for the smoke clouded their vision. A roar came from the darkness, the beast knew they were there… “Formations! Pikedwarves in front! Keep yer pikes up! Axe-throwers, ger ready! This’ll be ‘ta fight of our age, me lads!” The general grinned in the darkness, not afraid of the roars of the beast that replied to the shouting of the general. First they saw the smoke move in a very particular way and then a claw as big as three dwarves with nails on it as long as two pikes. It missed them, it clawed the air. “Axe-throwers! Fire ‘way! Throw them axes fer them ‘ta harm ‘tat filth of a beast!” They threw their axes and heard a terrifying scream. The chest and eye-less head appeared through the smoke, axes stuck in its chest. It smacked its claw into the pike-dwarves, roaring with pain of the pikes that penetrated his thick leather hands. A blow of his arm swept away the first row of pike-dwarves. It bit half a garrison of axe-throwers from the army and then returned into the smoke. “’tat beast is from ‘ta nether! Ae tell ye! Purge it frem our treasure! Send it back ta ‘te fiery pits from where it came!” General Drom shouted and ran to the front. “Come with me, ‘ave no fear! Today we bathe in gold!” The army ran to where the beast was last seen and shouted their war chants. A bloody battle followed. Black blood spattered over the dwarves as their pikes and axes ran into the body of the beast. The beast clawed at the army and soon its nails were entangled in chainmail and body-parts of Dwarves. Drom threw a pike at the beasts head, hoping to hit its eyes, but it had no eyes and the pike rebounded from its skull. The beast tried to bite and so crush the general, black fumes coming from its nose, but it missed. The few seconds they saw the beast appearing from the shadows were devastating for their morale.
The heads of dead Dwarves rolled in front of the legs of the living. It seemed to become a massacre… The beast wind-milled with its arms and accidentally hit one of the few pillars in the room. A deafening cracking sound followed as both the bones of the beast and the pillar itself broke. With a rumbling noise the upper part of the pillar came down and with it, a minor part of the ceiling. It was raining rocks on both the beast and the dwarves. The Dwarven army was weakened and had to retreat. Half of the army was dead and the beast roared a deafening growl. The rain of rocks stopped and the dwarves regrouped. They waited… No sound was heard. Was Murrgarog defeated? The Dwarves waited…
Slowly the smoke in the room began to grow thinner. As the smoke slowly cleared, the body of the beast became visible. It’s neck shattered and his head severed by a large boulder that had fallen from the high ceiling. The dwarves slowly walked towards it and stood in a wide circle, gazing at it. “Told ye we’d be bathin’ in gold t’day…” Whispered the general…
Here ends part two of Murrgarog, He without eyes, The Punisher. To read more, Look for the sequal book: "Murrgarog Sequal"
Murrgarog Sequel: The end of things.
This book contains the end of the myth of Murrgarog, he without eyes, the punisher. It is the sequel to Murrgarog Pt. I and II. It is advised to read those first, if you can find them, before reading this book.
“If you weren’t of any value I would have torn your head off!” The Greyling Tribe-leader said. The Greyling that led the Dwarves to Murrgarog shivered in fear. He was starving from running and searching for the other Greyling tribe. He had just told the leader of the tribe everything. The only reason he was still alive was because he knew the route the Dwarves would take, back to their capital, because it were the same routes the greyling took, leading them to the beast. He kneeled in front of the huge chair of the leader. He lay with his head on the floor, shaking. The room they were in was dark, with a few faint lights coming from one of the many tunnels that led to this room. An enormous crowd of Greylings stood around him and the leader. They were curious what had come to pass and what the leader would decide. From all over the cavern Greylings came to see what was happening. Even the walls were covered with curious eyes, focused on the two. The chair itself was made of roots and vines. It was a rather big thing, looking bizarre and freakish. The needle-like branches towering above the head of the leader. The leader was enormously big for a Greyling, four Greylings tall and sat with a mighty confidence, ticking the chair with his claw like fingers. His name was Sharik. He was thinking, you could see his heartbeat in the veins that ran over the sides of his head. His arms, legs and torso were a bit hairy, but he did not have much hair on his head. He then stood up, looking even taller. “Dwarven scum!” He yelled, and then he cursed in his native tongue. “These precious stones and ores belong to us and us alone!” He shouted and banged the chair with his hand. He ran quickly towards the tired Greyling and brought his head right in front of the head of the exhausted Greyling. “You will guide our army to the route which the Dwarven scum will take...” Then he looked around at the crowd that had amassed around them. “There we will ambush that Dwarven spawn and take back what belongs to the Greylings! Subterranean Altera belongs to us, the underground world belongs to us, each and every cavern belongs to us!” He kept raising his voice. “We have been invaded by these fat beings and we can’t do anything against their spikes and spears, axes and attacks. Gather now! We will take back what is ours! We leave now!” So the Greyling Leader spoke and so the Greyling crowd cheered awful cackles and made noise to applaud the leader's words. They followed the leader who was already running after the exhausted Greyling, who was leading the way. Greylings came out from every hole and crevice of the cavern they called their home and hurried to keep up with the rushing flow of their kin. They did not take any weapons, for they had none...
The Dwarves were sorting the gems and ores in the giant room. Placing the small gold pieces with each other and the large gold pieces with each other, separating the ores from the gems. They had taken a rest for a whole day to recover from the fight that the beast Murrgarog had delivered. “’tat head’ll look nicely above ‘ta mighty hearth of our King!” Dorm said, as he rolled the head away from the body and gems. Sorting the gems and ores was a tiring job, but they knew that they had to be fast, before the greylings would discover the beast was dead. It took them a day to get the biggest gems and ores out and lift them into carts. “we will take what we can carry, we will come back later with a mining party to pick up the rest.” And so the Dwarves deserted the room of riches. Leaving in the direction whence they came. They didn’t make any haste this time. They had enough supplies and food to continue the journey for another month. They knew they would need at least two weeks to get back to their home. In peace, not jolly because of the gems, neither too sad because of their losses, they went home…
After a week, once again they took a stop to eat something and take a breather. On the crossing of four tunnels they set up camp and made some fires. The beaten army was eating in silence when they heard it… First, it was a vague sound, sounding like a rush of wind, they were barely able to hear it… Then, they heard it wasn’t just wind. It grew louder and then faded, louder and fading, louder and fading… A deep bass that was hit and then faded… Boooooiiiiing…. Boooooiiiing…. All of the sudden, every dwarf recognized the sound and all of their eyes widened. The Greyling War-Gong. In the distance, they could hear screams and screaks, cackles and hisses. Oh yes, the Dwarves knew they were coming. But they all hoped and thought they would not take the same route as they were taking. They shouted and took up arms. Grabbing their iron mails and trying to put them on, but the Greylings already appeared from the darkness of one of the tunnels. First they saw small figures moving towards them through the shadows of the cave. Then they could not make out which figure was who, for the big amount of figures blended and formed a mass. The shadows were even crawling at the sides of the tunnel, coming ever closer in a very high speed. The dwarves looked at it, then tried to put their armor on, but they couldn’t focus, cause the screams of the Greylings were terrifying and they kept on looking to the black mass of things. Then, the Greyling army reached the light of the fires of the Dwarves and their ugly, disfigured faces and bodies became visible, as they ran towards the dwarves on all fours. The first ones were already very closed and jumped onto the closest dwarves. Five greylings on each dwarf, they stood no chance…
The dwarves that were further away had more time and were now armored and ready to fight. They took their axes and pikes and hacked into the first Greylings. They fought valiantly against the hordes of Greylings, cutting off limbs and heads. Yet, it was for no cause, for in the far darkness a huge figure detached himself from the black mass. It was twice as large as a dwarf and was holding a huge weapon. Sharik had come. He came into the light of the fire, showing his head bumping with thick veins, his big dark eyes staring from their dark sockets and looking around viciously. His needle-like teeth in a sarcastic grin. No doubt, this Greyling enjoyed the slaughter of Dwarves. He stroke the heads of the Greylings that were feeding on the dead dwarves. He passed by and took his weapon, which appeared to be a huge root, filled with needles and other sharp iron objects. He smacked into the dwarves around him, leaving them spilling out their blood on the cold, rocky floor…
The remaining dwarves backed away from the giant Greyling, the tribe-leader. They stood in a circle, back to back. Amongst them was also Dorm, the general. He waved his sword ferociously, cutting at the Greylings that were still coming at them. “Ye filth frem ‘ta pits of ‘ta Nether! Grief-Spawn! Ger off of me kin! Ae slice yer skulls, Ae cut yer throats, Ae crush yer backs!” He raged. Some Greylings were impressed by his raging and screaked or hissed. They backed off when the giant Greyling stepped into sight. Sharik talked to Dorm in his native Greyling tongue. “So it is you who led the army that took the treasures that my kin worked so hard on to obtain?” The tones of this language were hard, foul, sounded slithering and contained a lot of spitting. “Ae’ll ‘ave yer head ‘n hang it above ‘ta hearth like Murrgarog’s!” Growled Dorm. The Tribe-leader cackled and gurgled, spitting out the slime from his throat. Removing the grin from his face, it continued in common tongue, for it still knew this language from his days before Queen Grief. “We will kills you, and all of yous kin! One day, the dwarfses will be puuuurged.” The leader threw his head in his neck when it spoke the last word and cackled evilly. Before Dorm could answer, the giant root with iron nails flung against the generals head, making it crack open, its brain shooting out. The leader roared and growled, screaming fear into the remaining dwarves. Their leader dead, morale gone. They were easy victims…
So ends the Full Story of Murrgarog, the Greylings and the Dwarves. These books form a myth that many Greylings know. Because it reminds them of the dangers that lay in digging deep and leaving caverns unexplored. It also shows the love and skill of Greylings to obtain riches from the earth. It reminds them of the presence of Queen Grief, wherever they go. It shows the everlasting battle between Dwarves and Greylings for subterranean Altera. How Dwarves might be armed with better equipment, but still Greylings can when in great numbers, fast and cunningly enough, win any war.
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I just thought it would be nice to post it here too, so that it's easier to be able to read the story.
that's where the clue is about in the end. I wanted to pressure this fact 
Why haven't I seen this!?
The myth of Murrgarog is now complete!