"Dearly beloved, and goblin swine…"
Some hoots and cackles greeted this pronouncement.
"… we are gathered here today in the sight of our respective Lords, to join this goblin-loving trash, excuse me, I meant this obvious virgin of a man…"
A few people chuckled.
"… in the bonds of holy matrimony."
Decked out in a slick black tux embellished with flourishes to the style of Chaos, Dark Elf stood at the altar with his bride-to-be by his side. It was the Sword Maiden herself officiating this ceremony, a concession to the proceedings that he found particularly ironic.
After all, only a blind woman couldn't see how this would all turn out.
Proudly the chaos mage glanced to his left. There in a pure white wedding gown shimmering with samite, pearls and tiny emeralds was High Elf Archer, a bouquet of lilies in one hand and a silken bridal veil covering her face. Their marriage was meant to serve as a political union primarily; a sort of truce between the forces of Order and Chaos, appeasing the servile Crown Prince and offering him a political victory in the hopes of averting further bloodshed. No one actually believed this would put an end to the ages-old conflict between Demon Lords and the Races with Words. But many on the side of Order argued it was a step in the right direction, which could eventually lead to lasting peace.
Fools…
"Do you, our esteemed Elven colleague, the Lady…
Dark Elf puffed up with satisfaction as he considered his diabolical scheme. Oh, how those abominable heroes would suffer when they discovered he had turned and corrupted a High Elf maiden, one of the pillars of their race, to the side of Chaos!
"… take this despicable cuck to be your husband, to have and to hold…"
While the blind wench prattled on, Dark Elf gloated over his inevitable victory. Smirking, he cast a leisurely look at the wedding attendees behind him. On the bride's side was her family, of course, but also a large number of Adventurers of different ranks and achievements, from Porcelain all the way up to Silver. Those wretched mercenaries especially he yearned to upstage. Dark Elf smiled gleefully and fought down a chuckle at imagining their faces when they found themselves opposed on the field of battle by their own cherished comrade, wearing a thoroughly awesome black and red outfit he had personally designed and commissioned! What tragedy! What remorse! To learn that they had sold their ally into the arms of darkness for no more than their own selfish well-being! How he would laugh at them!
"… sickness and in health, for richer or poorer…"
Satisfied, the groom now examined his own party. Filling up one whole side of the pews was a mass of goblins. Whether outfitted in armor or nothing but a loincloth, his dear, dimwitted servants milled and chattered, casting leering glances at some of the comelier female Adventurers across the aisle. Rest easy, my servants, their leader advised them silently. Very soon, you shall have your reward. And so shall I! The Demon Lords and the Gods of Chaos themselves shall surely take note of my brilliant designs! On both a military and psychological level, I shall crush the foolish forces of Order! Break their spirits and their weapons beneath my masterful planning! Then the Dark Lords shall heap praise upon me! I shall be elevated to a rank far higher than any of their other servants! No… they might be so impressed, they'll offer to make me a Lord of Chaos myself!
The thought gave him goosebumps, and he shivered with pleasure.
"… for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," High Elf Archer answered clearly. Dark Elf remembered his role and turned back to the proceedings.
As he did, though, something caught his eye.
It was nothing remarkable. Just a bit out of place. For as his gaze roamed over the ranks of his followers, a rather odd sight stood out.
All the way in back behind the goblins, sitting on an otherwise empty bench, there was a man.
"And do you… sorry, what is this tiny green cock-gobbler's name again…? Seriously? Okay, then. Do you, Chuck the Dark Elf…"
He faced the Sword Maiden once again. But for some reason, Dark Elf couldn't rid himself of a sense of foreboding. He couldn't explain why. It was just… the sight of that armored man just sitting there, arms crossed, features hidden beneath a battered helm… it filled his heart with dread. Who was he? Why was he on that side of the aisle? Was he an Adventurer who had gotten lost?
That sense of peril wouldn't stop crawling down his spine. To satisfy himself nothing was wrong, the wary groom chanced another look back. No, nothing to be concerned about. His goblins were still as lively and droolingly stupid as ever. The fellow in back remained where he was, perfectly motionless. Satisfied, Dark Elf got back to the business at hand.
"… Piece of Filthy Talking Red Ass-Hair Excuse for a Man…"
Wait a minute…
"… take this clearly out-of-your-league Elf…"
A thought occurred to the Dark Elf. That man… he was sitting in the very back before, wasn't he? I could have sworn when I looked just now there was an empty row behind him. Was I imagining things?
To satisfy his misgivings, he chanced a peak over one shoulder again. No, he had been right. The armored man was indeed much closer than he had initially surmised. In fact, it looked like he was in the third row from the back now. But wait… hadn't there been goblins packed in from nave to transept? That certainly wasn't the case now. No one else was occupying the same bench as that mysterious figure. He remained seated with arms crossed, his empty visor staring fixedly forward, all alone. And even stranger still, the two benches behind him were totally empty as well.
Dark Elf felt a bout of nerves twist his stomach.
"… to have and to hold…"
No, don't get distracted! I must remain focused! Angrily he resumed listening to the Sword Maiden's prattle.
"… and in health, even if she laughs herself sick at how tiny your pecker is…"
He couldn't help himself. Dark Elf chanced another look back. A violent start went through his frame upon finding the strange man had advanced another row closer, with no sign of the previous occupants to be found.
For a moment, their eyes seemed to meet, and he could have sworn a red light glowed from within the impenetrable confines of that dented helmet.
"… for richer or poorer…"
Face forward, then almost immediately back around, and this time Dark Elf could not restrain a slight yelp of surprise. One more bench cleared, another space closer. The menacing figure continued his advance.
My goblins! My poor, brain-dead goblins! You sweet stupid souls, what is he doing…?!
"… for as long as you both shall live?"
Dark Elf blinked, and just like that, a whole stretch of goblins went missing. "NO!" he screamed.
"No?"
High Elf Archer rounded on him in disbelief. "NO?!"
Frantically Dark Elf turned back to his blushing bride. "Wait, sorry, I didn't mean you, you're fine, I just…!"
He threw out his arm to draw her attention to what was taking place, and when he looked, the evil mage was horrified to see only two rows of goblins now watching him, seemingly unaware of the fact that the rest of their brethren had inexplicably gone missing in the last few seconds to be replaced by that eerily silent shadow sitting behind them calmly. The Dark Elf's deep gray skin turned the color of hot ash, and the room spun before his eyes.
"Are we doing this or not?" Sword Maiden demanded crossly.
In desperation he tore back around to confront the two rather put-out females. "Look, can you just… hold on for one second, please? I'm not sure…"
"Not sure?" High Elf Archer dashed her bridal bouquet to the floor, fuming. "The hell do you mean, 'not sure?!' I did not agree to this farce just so you could chicken out at the last…!"
Panic-stricken, the cringing mastermind looking from archbishop to bride, and then crumpled to his knees in dismay when his desperate gaze found only one last line of blissfully moronic goblins watching him expectantly.
Looming over their tiny green heads, the red eye glowed in obvious menace.
"Typical," Sword Maiden heaved a reproachful sigh. "Says he's all in, but when it comes time to tie the knot, he's too busy fantasizing about bachelor parties with goblin hookers and Goblin Sluts to…"
"Goblin hookers?" The High Elf's voice reached an octave that sent the white doves of peace swirling to the rafters in a panicked flurry of wings. Her pointed ears twitched, and she rounded on the best man. "You said there weren't gonna be any hookers!"
In response Dwarf Shaman raised his hands and backed away, sweating. "Now, Long Ears, let's be reasonable here…!"
"No hookahs!" she advanced on him, face crimson with fury. "No hookahs, Dwarf! No hookahs! Hookahs! HOOKAHS!"
"My friends," Lizardman Priest interposed himself between them, looking quite fetching in his chief bridesmaid's gown. "If we can return to the matter at hand for just one minute…"
Near choking on his own grief, the Dark Elf swung around on the quarreling party with sudden vehemence. "Are you all blind?!" he shouted. "Can't you see that…?!"
SMASH!
When Dark Elf turned his head, it was to find nothing but butchered green carcasses scattered over the floor. Paralyzed, he gaped in horror. Before him, the armored man had pinned the last living goblin to the ground and was bashing its head into the tiles. The wet, meaty sounds of burst brains filled the otherwise silent cathedral. Smash-smash-smash-smash!
After a time, the killer seemed to notice he had become the center of attention for the whole congregation. He looked up, his work slowing. Smash-smash… smash… squish.
No one spoke a word.
Glancing from left to right, the blood-spattered murderer seemed to consider his position. He then took the goblin's head and twisted it violently. Snap!
After this, the man arose from the corpse and said with as much dignity as he could muster, "Mazel tov."
Then he turned and walked down the aisle. Heads craned to watch him go, his boots leaving gory tracks on the carpet behind him.
Dark Elf remained slumped on his knees, hands limp and mouth agape.
"The hell with this," High Elf Archer muttered. She then reached down and ripped off the gown of her wedding dress, revealing shapely legs adorned in sheer white silk stockings attached with straps to matching white lingerie. Dwarf Shaman wolf-whistled at her, and she cast him a furious glance. "Oh, can it, Dwarf!"
Also strapped to her thighs were two sheaths holding obsidian daggers. High Elf Archer pulled one free, flipped it into the air, grabbed her potential husband by his red hair, caught the dagger on the downspin and drove it to the hilt in his pointy ear.
As the acolyte of chaos collapsed dead to the cathedral floor, his killer dusted off her hands officiously. "Was saving that for the honeymoon, but why wait?" Having said this, she vaulted lightly from the altar and sped swift as a breeze after her armored associate. "Hey, Orcbolg!" she called gaily after him. "Wait up!"
The unlikely pair rode off together on a white horse with the sign 'Just Married' bouncing on its flanks.
FIN.