Mungo
Mungo moved like a mountain learning to walk—each step a shuddering quake that sent birds scattering from the trees. His single, dull eye blinked slowly, confused by the sting of smoke and the shouts of the goblins perched upon his back. They beat drums, drove spikes into his hide, and screamed orders he could barely understand. The platform creaked as the spear-throwers leaned out, loosing volleys into the burning fields below.
He didn’t hate the villages he crushed. He barely knew what they were. The scent of fire and iron was all that reached him, and the sting of the reins biting his neck. Somewhere beneath the armour of carved stone and the wooden scaffolds bolted to his spine, a simple mind wished for quiet.
He didn’t hate the villages he crushed. He barely knew what they were. The scent of fire and iron was all that reached him, and the sting of the reins biting his neck. Somewhere beneath the armour of carved stone and the wooden scaffolds bolted to his spine, a simple mind wished for quiet.
Current Location
Species
Ethnicity
Children
Gender
Male
Aligned Organization