Author’s Note: For now, I’m using the names of Guild Wars 2 OCs I’ve created. This may change later on , but it should be noted that Prokogg aren’t goblinoid creatures like the asura but rather reptilian creatures which will be drawn/described once I’ve wholly realized a design for them that appeals to me best.
Three small hooded figures moved through the dark, narrow tunnel with cautious , shuffling steps. The trio moved together in unison with one of the figures positioned slightly ahead of the other two. The leading figure held a small burning torch elevated a few inches above his head and out before him, casting a dim light before the trio.
“This is pointless, Fizzit,” one of the three figures protested loudly, his irritated and growling voice resounding off the narrow tunnel walls and likely carrying for miles, “, we’re never going to find the Gate! ”
The other two figures winced at the loudness of their companion’s complaint. Neither of them stopped moving, however. They’d come too far to turn back now.
“If you want to go home, Rezzik, no one is stopping you, ” the leading figure known as Fizzit replied calmly, “but don’t think for a moment that if we find the Gate that you’ll receive any credit for our findings. ”
“You won’t find anything down here,” Rezzik replied stubbornly, ” that’s because the Council was right. Maddgrin , well, his name’s a dead giveaway as to the nature of- ”
“Enough whining already, ” , the third figure sighed, ” for Gaddjet’s sake, Rezzik, that’s all you ever do. ”
“I’m not whining, ” Rezzik snarled, “I’m merely being the rational voice here. Come on, Quossa, even YOU have to admit that you’ve started thinking that this entire expedition is a waste of time?” Fizzit sighed heavily, but Rezzik ignored him and ranted on, ” we’ve been blundering about down here in the dark for weeks. In that time we’ve only managed to lose two of our colleagues to Darkstalkers along with at least a day’s worth of supplies! And what do we have to show for all this trouble, hm? Some little worthless hunk of rock with crude drawings that have even less artistic technique than even the most simple-minded youngling could create!”
“Rational, you say?” Fizzit inquired , his tone sounding humored in spite of his growing annoyance. Quossa was right, of course, all Rezzik had done since their little expedition had left home was complain. Fizzit found himself constantly wondering why someone like Rezzik, who didn’t seem the least bit interested in knowing the history of their people, would volunteer to go with him. “I’d say you’re more ignorant and impatient than anything else.”
“And paranoid,” Quossa added with a snicker.
Rezzik bristled at the sound and though he couldn’t see her face, he could imagine the smug look on her face. “Laugh it up,” he growled, ” if the Darkstalkers return to finish us, you won’t find that so humorous. ”
The mention of the insidious creatures caused the trio to be silent for several minutes. A part of Fizzit was somewhat grateful for it. Rezzik’s complaints were nothing new to him for ever since the team had lost two of its members , he’d been constantly questioning the worth of the expedition. Was it right to continue? Could he sacrifice more lives? However, every time he thought of turning around and going back to the surface, he thought of his father and the Council- people who doubted him , told him that his career was a waste of potential . The Gate was lost. The Prokogg would never return to their former home nor would they ever known the glory of the Old Days.
Fizzit clutched the bit of broken rock in his free hand tightly as if it were the most important thing that he owned. He hadn’t bothered to argue with Rezzik but the bit of rock he held in his hand was a piece of a writing tablet and those ‘crude drawings’ weren’t simply drawings. They were runes belonging to the Old Words, a ‘dead’ language that his people hadn’t known for thousands of years. Fizzit had devoted his life to studying the Prokogg, the ancestors of his people.