Origin of the Scruzzlefartsssss
Scruzzle was a man but also the place that he lived. It was a dank, smelly place that reeked of sulfur and sweaty feet. The man who lived there smelled much the same. Accounts of how Scruzzle came to live in the Scruzzle swamp differ with each telling. Some say he was a man cast out from his village for failing to bathe his entire life. Others say he was abandoned as a baby and raised in the swamp by leeches and eels. Every tale of Scruzzle is unflattering and though each paints his origin differently, every telling describes an accurate picture of the man himself. He was rude, belligerent, foul-mouthed in every sense of the phrase, and violent. It is safe to say that the horrible, dangerous place in which he lived was made even worse for his living there.
Most of the time, people avoided Scruzzle (the swamp), which meant that Scruzzle (the man) spent much of his time in solitude. That was the way he preferred things. He only longed for the company of one and that was Dralk, god of all goblinkind. Scruzzle was not a goblin, though, but a man and as such, his daily prayers to Dralk went unanswered. Bored, vengeful, confused, or just plain stupid, Scruzzle desperately prayed. The accounts of why he sought the patronage of the evil lord of all goblins has never been clear. But it is well understood that he wanted answers and blessings from the dark god. He prayed twice a day, then three times a day. He sacrificed birds and eels and the occasional passer-by to his silent god.
One day, Dralk finally noticed the vile human. Scruzzle had taken to venturing far across the swamp to spy on a small village of goblins. Many accounts say that he became infatuated with a female of the tribe, which is probably true given his obsession with their god. He studied the way they prayed and the way they ate and the way they fought amongst themselves. Scruzzle began to see himself as one of them, even if Dralk never would.
When Scruzzle began to steal from their shrines and their food stores, Dralk took notice. At first he was angry that a human would rob his followers. But soon Dralk became curious and watched as Scruzzle imitated the goblins bathing rituals (hot mud springs), their language, and the ugly clay pots they sculpted. Finally, Dralk grew irritated and appeared before the pesky human.
"Why do you harrass my people?" the dark lord demanded.
Scruzzle fell to the feet of the god, kissing at the swamp water and generally embarrassing himself with pathetic groveling. Dralk grew impatient and kicked the human over onto his back.
"What is it you want?" Dralk said.
"Please," said Scruzzle. He sounded overjoyed rather than afraid. "Grant me a tribe of my own that we might worship you, make you stronger, and wage war in your name!"
The god laughed. But Dralk was devious and he formed an idea. He hated the humans, including Scruzzle, but he knew an opportunity when he saw it. At last, he nodded with a malicious grin.
"Very well, human," he said. "But on one condition."
"Anything," pleaded Scruzzle.
"You must leave my goblins alone. Go far from here and establish your tribe in some other place. Bother the humans from this point on and leave my followers be. If you do not do as I say, you and your tribe will be eradicated completely. This will be your only chance to demonstrate your undying loyalty."
"Yes!" Scruzzle said. "Yes, I will obey for all eternity!"
With that, Dralk took the human's left hand and severed all four fingers and his thumb. Scruzzle screamed in pain. The dark god then blessed the stubs of each finger and they grew again, long and boneless. Scruzzle fell at the god's feet, gasping and thanking him for the blessing.
"You are given five new fingers," the god said with a commanding, wicked voice. "Each finger shall absorb the qualities of a single thing it touches. It will only absorb the first thing and only that thing. Create your tribe with my five blessings and go."
The dark god never looked upon his human servant again.
Scruzzle was as clumsy as he was simpering. The first thing he touched was his thumb tentacle with his right hand, curious about his new appendage. The tentacle glowed softly, storing the qualities of his own skin. He cackled with glee but vowed to be more careful.
He looked about Scruzzle (the swamp) and eventually caught an ugly toad. It stared at him, croaking, and he touched its wet, beady eye with his forefinger tentacle. Scruzzle gave a disturbing, wicked laugh as this finger glowed as well. He squished the toad and ran home to pack his things. He would find a new home to call Scruzzle and find new beasts, dangerous beasts, that he could touch. He fantasized of tickling the scaly hide of a dragon or touching the poisonous fangs of a snake. In his revelry, he touched his own pajamas with his blessed hand, absorbing its qualities in his middle tentacle. He shrieked at his error and ran from his hovel, out of the swamp, and far away from his home and leaving everything behind.
Scruzzle passed through deserts and forests and mountains. He grew very careful to never use his left hand. It hung at his side like it was dead. Finally the vile man came upon a giant spider's nest. Here was a dangerous beast! Was it poisonous? Was it hairy or large? Before he could make his plans to sneak up on the spider, it leapt out from a burrow at him and wrapped him in its sticky silk. Cocooned, Scruzzle was left alone by the burrow and saved for later. Or perhaps it did not like his smell. The ugly human did not know what fate awaited him but he knew that he had no escape from his prison. He wriggled and writhed and brought his blessed hand before his face, peering at the four glowing fingers. Yes, one of them had touched the webbing that entombed him. Scruzzle sobbed. He had only one quality left to find. But he had no good qualities of his own to imbue in his final finger. Yet he could not escape to find something better. After hours of sniveling and prayer to his god, he surrendered his final finger to the quality of his own greasy hair. With that, his hand glowed, mixing together the qualities of his own skin and hair, the beady eye of a toad, his tattered polka dot pajamas, and the spider silk of a giant spider. Five hideous creatures spawned from that hand, one from each finger, and ripped Scruzzle's cocoon apart, setting him free.
He stood, angry and scared at what he had wrought. "I am Scruzzle, your father," he said. "What are you called?"
The looked at each other, then back at their creator, and hissed. "Scruzzlefart...sssss!" they said, trying to copy his speech.
Scruzzle sent his new tribe to kill the spider that had trapped him. Then he led them to their new home where they have bred and flourished, a tiny but real threat to the humans of the world.
The End
(HCGLNS, let me know if I mischaracterized Dralk or goblins in any way!)
