Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Chapter 178 28. The Story Meeting

"Ahhh!" A thin, bitter liquid was forcibly poured down Dorian's throat, and he struggled to wake up in a coma. The liquid exuded a foul smell, and he turned his head away after spitting out a mouthful of juice. , There was a flash of pain in his eyes, and his stomach began to churn.

A callused hand tried to fix Dorian's jaw, stopping him from screaming, and despite his weakness, he jerked his head up and bit the offending hand hard. Taking a bite, the teeth bit deeply into the tiger's mouth between the index finger and thumb.He tasted blood, but his stomach held him back.His teeth came loose as he vomited a gulp of bile and a fist slammed into his cheek.

Dorian felt a knife against his cheek, the knife was cold, rough and sharp, and as the knife slowly pressed against the skin of his face, cutting easily into the flesh underneath, he cried out again in anger and pain. yell.The strange liquid seemed to intensify his senses, and the pain stimulated him to fully wake up.He blinked as warm blood trickled down his face, and when he focused, he saw a short, thin-limbed Drucci standing in front of him.

Shadow's angular features are covered with indigo and red spiral tattoos, which have a strange effect, giving people a growling expression even when they are resting.When he squinted at Dorian, his face was the image of hysterical hatred, as if an endless hatred was driving him.He wears layers of loose robes and soft leather boots, with various daggers stuck in a wide belt around his waist.

A blazing fire illuminated from behind a small clearing surrounded by a circle of trees, and more shadows crouched or walked around the fire, most of them wearing mottled green and brown cloaks that matched the The shadows of the forest blend together.

Two moons shone brightly in an unusually clear sky, and Dorian tried to force himself to calm down despite the pain in his body and his stomach churning as he struggled to concentrate.

"Is this how you treat the great Dreadlord's scions?" Dorian growled.

Shadow raised his head when Dorian erupted, raised the knife to his lips with a smile, and licked the blood on the blade.He raised his eyebrows appreciatively, then turned to his companion, speaking in a thick accent.Dorian listened for a long time, but he couldn't understand a word. The shadows around the fire burst into laughter. Dorian didn't like this sound, he thought he was humiliated.

"My lord, that short man said he likes your taste." The subordinate next to Dorian swallowed, then looked at Dorian and said with difficulty, with an expression of doom on his face.

Dorian tried to force himself to turn his head away from the direction of the sound. His squire was tied to the tree next to him, his face was covered with livid bruises, and the other was still unconscious.

"The flesh and blood of noble warriors is the delicacy of Drucci in these mountains. If I were you, I wouldn't mention your father so forcefully." The subordinate was still speaking with difficulty with his swollen lips.

"You're crazy! They won't eat their own people! Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Dorian exclaimed.

"We are not their compatriots. In their eyes, we are city dwellers, let alone in the current situation. To them, we are just meat, food, fat and soft, delicious and delicious." The servant smiled painfully He smiled and said self-deprecatingly.

There was a rattling and clanging of metal near the fire, and Dorian turned to take a look. A shadowy figure beside the fire had unrolled a roll of soft leather sewn with many pockets of various sizes.A handle made of bone or wood was exposed outside each pocket, and under his gaze, the short Shadow took out a bone-shaving knife and a polished bone saw.

"If we're lucky, they should have eaten recently, they might just need a hand or a calf, they're very good at taking only what they need, and keeping their victims alive for later use." The retinue also heard When he heard the voice, he glanced at it and started talking on his own.

"Enough! Kane! Don't say it! Don't say it!" Dorian roared with some breakdown.

The short shadow spoke, and several of his companions got up and started to work. A shadow shook out a length of rope, and wrapped the rope around a sturdy tree trunk hanging by the fire.Another shadow picked up the end of the rope, walked to Dorian's side, and expertly and quickly wrapped the rope around Dorian's ankle a few times.The other two shadows untied the rope that tied Dorian to the tree, and tied Shadow's hands tightly behind his back.

"Don't you dare! Touch me with your dirty knife again, and in the name of the god of Kane, I curse you and let these hills wither for 1000 years!" Dorian roared.

The short shadow made a disgusted sound, and issued a brief order again.Two shadows pulled the rope, and Dorian's body was hung upside down. The rough hands of the shadows prevented Dorian from swinging upside down. Another shadow placed a large brass bowl on the Dorian's head bowed, ready to receive the spilled blood.

"Kill me, the dreadlords of Naggarond will hunt you and your kind." Dorian watched as the short shadow drew a sickle-shaped knife from the leather cloth.His body was shaking violently, seething with rage and adrenaline.

"You're nothing but smoke, townsman. After a while, poof! You'll disappear as if you never existed, and your dreadlord father will never know what happened to you." The short shadow smiled He walked over, showing his uneven black and yellow teeth, and whispered.

The knife was as cold as ice against Dorian's throat.

Suddenly, a loud shout came from the other side of the fire, and the shadow of the short man stopped moving.A harsh voice issued an order in rustic Elvish, and the short shadow quickly countered back at a speed that Dorian could not keep up with.

Without warning, Dorian was suddenly thrown to the ground, suffering excruciating pain in his head, shoulders and neck.But he rolled over, on his back, and turned his head to see what was going on.

Many shadows appeared at the fringes of the flames, led by a broad-shouldered shadow with tattoos on his face and hands.The shadowy shadows that had stalked around the fire before retreated from these new shadows, respecting and fearing them at the same time.

The broad-shouldered, tattooed Shadow looked at the restrained Dorian and sent a long question to his companion, who responded quickly.He asked another question, this time with a longer answer, rubbing his chin with his tattooed hand as he thought.

"These damn shadows are bargaining!" Dorian realized.

The broad-shouldered Shadow turned around, as if he was about to say something to his companion, suddenly he jumped at the short Shadow.The two shadows rolled around on the wet ground, fighting, the daggers flickering non-stop.

"It seems that some things are still the same between the mountain people and us!" Dorian looked at the fight and thought.

There was a popping sound of steel hitting the flesh, and the broad-shouldered dark shadow roared in pain, but then Dorian saw a tattooed arm stretched out and stabbed the dagger hard.The broad-shouldered shadow stabbed down again and again, and the short shadow was lying on the ground, spitting blood and struggling.

The victor staggered to his feet, blood oozing from the wound on his arm.After raising his hands and swearing his strength, he led his companions to Dorian's side, pulled Dorian up with a pair of rough hands, and cut off the restraints at Dorian's ankles with a knife.He just glanced at Dorian briefly, his eyes revealing his evaluation, as if he came to the market to pick a piece of beef, and then he nodded with satisfaction.

Before Dorian could speak, he spun on the spot, and the shadows pushed him forward forcefully, walking towards the deep shadow behind the fire.He staggered a few steps, then regained his balance.Suddenly, he turned around, quickly took a few steps, and came to the place where the short man, An Ying, was lying.He bent down as much as he could, getting close to the short Anying's tattooed face, he was very happy to see that the light of life was still on the short Anying.

"Taste your blood and feast, dwarf, I warned you! If you tease me, you will..."

Before Dorian could finish speaking, there was an angry shout behind him, and a broad, scarred hand stretched out from the broad shoulders, pushing him forward with ease.Two shadowy hands gripped his arms, and a dark sack that smelled of sweat and vomit was thrown over his head with a rope tied loosely around his neck.He walked up in the suffocating darkness, Shade's gnarled hands gripping his arms, keeping him upright no matter how many times he tripped.

As time passed, Dorian's mind became clearer, and he tried to listen to every sound that came out around him.He could hear Shadow's footsteps and curses, as if walking in a single file behind him.Judging from the relaxed tone of the shadows, it seems that the shadows are within their own territory and are not afraid of being attacked.He was even more shocked when he heard the sleepy groan of a Cold One far behind the group, how Shadow reacted to swiping the Cold One was still a mystery to him.

Time no longer counted, and it seemed to Dorian that the shadows seemed tireless, never stopping in their swift, ground-consuming march.Without any warning, Shadow's hands grabbed him and stopped him, and the Shadows were having a brief exchange.A hand on his neck made him bend awkwardly, and he was unceremoniously thrown forward.His foot touched something soft, and he fell hard on the ground, but what appeared to be beneath him was not dirt, but a pile of fur or a blanket.

There was another short conversation behind Dorian, and then the sound of movement.Strong hands grabbed him, turned him over, and nimble fingers undid the ties on the sack.The dirty sack was pulled away, and he gulped greedily for the smoky air.His eyes seemed to have gotten used to the darkness, and he quickly began to observe his surroundings.He was lying on his back among a pile of furs, in what appeared to be a tent with a curved roof.

The three Duruccis crouched beside him, their hands gliding over his face and body, their fingertips brushing over his head, pausing briefly on the swollen lump on his forehead, brushing over his noble nose, Then slid over his lips.Their touch was as light as a feather, unnaturally soft.

When the embers rekindled, Dorian understood why, and he saw something that horrified him!
Three Drucci women squatted beside him, all wearing a simple buckskin kaitan, and they had no hair on their heads, and they had the same emblem tattooed on their foreheads.Iron collars were placed around their necks.Their proud pointy ears were gone, leaving nothing but gnawed scar tissue.Ghastly curved scars on their necks protruded from the tops of their collars, showing how their vocal cords had been roughly severed.Their faces hovered above him in the flickering light, their expressions seemed preoccupied, the darkness engulfing their eyes, now nothing but hollows remained.

With a concerted effort, the slaves pulled Dorian to his feet, and he struggled but could not quite suppress a shiver of disgust.To cripple a Durucci in this way, deprive them of their basic powers, and then keep them from dying is unbelievably cruel!
Hearing the dignitaries and sorceresses in the tent here start to shout and curse, it is obvious that the cruelty of the shadows has surpassed the druccis whose moral bottom line is already very low.Then they began to condemn the shadows, and clamored what would happen if they encountered this group of shadows in the future.

Drusala, who was in the crowd, also nodded in agreement, but she knew that the Tower of Gorond's Prophecy was also cruel. There were a group of guards called Frost Blades in the tower. These warriors were fanatical and loyal to Morathi. , but in fact they have no choice.The members of Frostblade are basically handsome nobles. Under the rhetoric of Morathi's maid, they gave up their old masters and were lured and abducted to Grond.Once they entered the Tower of Prophecy, the promise of great wealth disappeared, replaced by the cruel reality of persecution of the mind by cold poison, and they had to be reduced to puppets eager for orders.Only Morathi and her closest handmaidens know the spell that drives the Frostblade, for they guard it greedily to secure their absolute control over the Frostblade.

If Drusala is still in the Tower of Prophecy, maybe she will know the magic spell soon.And she also knew that the superstructure of the Tower of Prophecy was indeed stuffed with wealth enough to drive mortals crazy, after all, the gold mines had been continuously mined for 5000 years, but only a small group of sorceresses were allowed to enter it.The ones guarding there are the Wordless, the guards guarding the superstructure, and these Drucci have their tongues pulled out to ensure their silence.But fortunately, their fate was far better than that of the guards guarding Morathi's private room. The guards in there were not only tongueless, but also blinded and castrated, and could only fight by hearing and touch.

Compared with the story told by Dorian, what made Dacius even more curious was why Dorian told this story?

The story will come to an end here. Although the dignitaries and female artists are silent in Dorian's immersive story, it is already very late at this time, and they have to hurry tomorrow.

(I won’t talk about it, I guess I will drop my subscription again, so I will talk about it in another way.)
(End of this chapter)