I’ve still got some more time to spare, so I’m thinking of different monsters and creatures for NaNoWriMo. Not an entire menagerie of course, just a couple of significant ones that are likely to appear. So here is a piece of flash fiction about the Golorath.
I kinda like this guy, let me know what you think.
Of all the natural predators out there, one of the deadliest and the most feared is the Golorath. A Golorath is oftendescribed as a large bear that stands as tall and wide as two horses placed side-by-side.
The Golorath is a powerful creature. Its front legs are more than capable of killing the most battle-hardened warrior with a single blow, whilst it’s hind legs can kick the head clean off a mans shoulders. Yet these are not the strongest weapons in the Golorath’s arsenal. In the centre of its chest is a small hole capable of shooting out a jet of flammable liquid up to ten meters, whilst its cat-like head can ignite this liquid with its fire breath. A Golorath has all the weapons capable of destroying whole villages and towns. Yet they are not without their weaknesses.
The Golorath has a larger thirst than other creatures of its size. It must drink to quell the fires that grow in its stomach. If left without water for too long it will be consumed by the flames that grow within. So great is its need for water that a Golorath will burst into flames unless they drink every three hours.
The easiest way to kill the beast is to trap them in a cave, or a strong metal cage. Trap them anywhere strong, solid and most importantly fire-proof. If you can keep them away from water for three hours then you’ll defeat them.
Once a Golorath has combusted, its meat is tasty and perfectly cooked. Golorath meat is a delicacy and is often a centrepiece at any large feast or celebration.
The myth surrounding the Golorath is a tragic one.
Many years ago there was an Ogre called Golor, and like many other species have often done he fell in love with someone he shouldn’t. In this case the Chieftain’s daughter. This alone was not enough to seal his fate, but she had the lack of sense to love him in return. After a chance meeting one night, they found themselves creeping out to meet each other every night. Each night their feelings for each other grew stronger. Eventually their feelings of love grew so strong that they could no longer stem their passion.
They made love until they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, the happiest they had ever been. They were both woken early next morning by the Chieftain’s guards. Dragged to the Chieftains tent, they faced judgement from her father and the village sorcerer. The Chieftain who was deaf to the pleas of his daughter refused to recognise that she was a willing participant, and so Golor was accused of spoiling the Chieftains daughter, and for a crime of this nature a simple death would not be sufficient.
Golor was lead out through the streets where people threw rocks and dung at him. He arrived at the centre of the village, bloodied and dirty where he was chained to a large rock. As his sentence was read out by the village sorcerer, Golor remained silent. His true love had been saved from this pain and for that he would gladly take his punishment. When the sentence had been delivered, the village Sorcerer started his incantations.
“It seems the fire in your loins will be your own undoing, Golor. You shall burn from that fire.” Spoke the sorcerer, his hands forming shapes in the air.
As his words were spoken Golor felt a tremendous heat in his stomach that grew and grew. The pain becoming so intense that he prayed for death; prayed for release. Flames erupted from his stomach and consumed him; his pain was immeasurable but brief as Golor succumbed to the flames.
Exactly one year later from Golor’s death, creatures attacked the village. They were large and powerful, and shot fire from their stomachs. Within the space of a few hours, the entire village was destroyed, its inhabitants mauled, clawed or burnt to death. All except for one, the creatures left the Chieftains daughter alive.