Ralph: The Kobold
Magic light sparkled and danced in the air, illuminating the small square chamber where the kobold lived. It was cramped in there, but at least he knew his place in life. He was given an ample amount of food and just enough room to get some oversize in while he waited for the next batch of hapless adventures to stumble into his room and foolishly think that by slaying him, they were any closer to defeating the evil wizard. Ralph had been killed at least two hundred times by now and was becoming rather blaise on the subject of death. Even his personal angel and, as a matter of fact, even the god of the goblin-kin were becoming accustomed to his popping in for a bit and then being warped back out..
He was in the best place a kobold could hope for.
_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_-=*=-_
I was doing some exersizes and this one semeed to flow. I thought that it might be a “drabble” (a one hundred word story) but Ralph’s story comes in about 50 words too long.
Oh, and I don’t know how to spell blaise. Blah-zay. I’ll figure it out soon enough.
blasé