The Tonberry Artist's Audience

"O brothersss of rancor, take up thy lanternsss,
The truth we shall illuminate.
O sistersss of rancor, take up thy knives,
To cleave our foesss with barren hate.
Through this we ssseek our just reward;
Our goddess's glory be ressstored."

As I listen to the raspy, somewhat slurred speach of my young friend, who shall remain anonymous, I can't help but feel chills run down my spine. I guess the atmosphere didn't help either. The dark, moistened cavern that surrounded our undisclosed meeting point. I come here, on occasion, to talk to my young beastman friend, and discuss the current affairs of the world, politics, religion, and various other things. His favorite food is hobgoblin chocolate, and his favorite color is red. I know these silly things may not matter to you, but he is my friend. We share many similar views, despite our obvious differences. My name is Duel, by the way, and I'm an adventurer. But most importantly, i'm a freelance reporter.

We began our meeting in the usual spot. A spot we have meeting for nearly two years now. I brought the usual newspapers and chocolates, as well as other odd and end things he asks me to pick up. I sat down on a small stone slab before him. He preferred to stand, which didn't seem so odd with his hunched posture. He gently swung his small lantern from side to side as we spoke. He seemed not at all uncomfortable with the imposing interview, and almost excited to share his points of view with my readers. Of course, we tried to stay on the topic of history and relations.

"So tell me about the origins of your people?" I asked my friend politely, to strike up the conversation. "Where do your ancestors come from?"
"For as long as I can remember, we've lived here in the land known as Elshimo. We very rarely stray far from the temple. Although I know there is a tribe of us somewhere in the northlands. Distant cousins of ours," my young friend replied.
"Tell us more about the temple. What is it for? What about your religion?" I inquired.
"Our temple was built to worship our great goddess, Uggalepih. She was a beatiful goddess, whom was envied by Altana. Your goddess, Altana, turned uggalepih into an ugly beast and exiled her," he explained.
"Is this a contributing factor to the strain between your kind and the children of Altana?" I inquired.
"It is the only reason," he pointed out, as he looked down at his lantern. "As I sang our march to you, earlier, which explains the majority of it. The general beleive of our people is that we must wreak revenge on the children of Altana, to restore the glory of our great Uggalepih."
"In our old history books, it is said that your people's ancestors are the Kuluu, an ancient race dating back to the times of Zilarts. is there any truth to this?" I kicked around a small pebble as a scribbled down the interview on some bast parchment.
"It is not among popular beleif, but we have heard of this," he muttered, popping some hobgoblin chocolate into his mouth and swaying his strange tail about. "I know an elder speaks of such things. He talks about the Kuluu past, and the cursed placed on them that became us." he chuckled slightly. "But this is the only life we know. We refuse to listen, or acknowledge that our existance is a curse."
"That can be understood. Moving on a bit. Let me know if you feel uncomfortable with these questions," I reassure my friend, as I pressed on. Water dripped from the ceiling, as I shifted over to the left a bit to avoid an unplanned shower. "What kind of role did your people play in the Crystal War?"
"umm..." he shifted a bit, and looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps he was looking at the leak, I thought, but he was probably racking his brain for answers to the questions. "I personally played no part in the war. Most of us stayed out of the affairs outside of our home. A few of our most elite members played a role as hired mercenaries and assassins. Most of which came back alive, and never really saw much combat. I beleive a few of them also played as some personal guards for the shadowlord as well, although I cannot confirm that at the moment," he looked back down, and munched on another chocolate. His chef's knife lay on an overturned stone. He always grasped his lantern tightly. I learned previously from my friend, that it is common beleif that a tonberry can not survive without their lantern. They always seem to keep them with them, and lit, at all times.
"So tell me about rancor. What is it? In your march, the first line is 'oh brothers of rancor.' Does this mean something special?" I asked, gazing into his lit lantern. The flame was strong and constant, almost hypnotizing.
"Rancor is just a name for our extreme hatred toward the children of Altana. It is the twine that binds together my people. Although I have come to terms with the fact that they are not the source of our problems, many of us still live by this beleif. Deep inside the Den of Rancor, you can find the Altar of Rancor. It contains an inextinguishable flame which represents our eternal hatred," he pointed out.
"Lets touch on a bit of your personal life, save some details. Tell us a little bit about you, so that our readers can connect. Just because we are different, doesn't mean we do not share any similarities," I offered this question to help take his mind off of serious matters. I noticed the dripping of the ceiling stopped, and wiped off the stone I was sitting on, giving myself more room. He looked up at me and I could have sworn I saw a grin on his tiny green face.
"Well, as you know, I love hobgoblin chocolate. They are my favorite. I love to read up on the latest news and politics from the mainland. I spend time gambling sometimes with a few Sahagin friends at an undisclosed location. I still owe them a bit of coin. I swear that they cheat... but it's fun. I also like to explore the jungle. I've began drawing my own map of the jungle on this piece of parchment. The only area I have not mapped out is the area around Kazham. So many adventurers come in and out of that area, that I'm afraid to go near. It's already dangerous enough for me to explore the jungle on foot, lest a chocobo-mounted adventurer find me. Also, I've been dabbling a bit in some art. I won't get into much, but I am planning something big for my art in the future." I omitted some of the details of this future event to help conceal the identity of my friend.
"Is there anything else you'd like to tell us to conclude the interview?" I patiently asked, as I saw him place the remainder of his chocolates into his coat pouch, and pick his knife back up. He slowly creeped toward me eerily and gave a sort of grin. He giggled that faint, creepy laugh that all tonberry seem to possess, and nodded.
"Yes, I do have something to say. Firstly, the past is slowly drawing away from us. More and more of our kind are learning to try to live peacefully with others, and are buying in to the stories that the elders, such as Grav'iton, have been telling us about our history. Although I can't say you may walk freely among us, but if we are not attacking you, please do not begin hostile assault on our people. For all I know, there could be another tonberry out there who enjoy art, or exploring the jungles. Also, to some of you adventurers trying to prove yourself, check out the exhibit room and mural room in our temple sometime. You'll find some pretty unique ancient artwork, and may find something special," my friend hinted to me with a wink, and then slowly began to drag his feet. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some money to win back... Or some fish-people to gut... "
He dissipeared into the darkness with that creepy little tonberry laugh once again, as I packed up my materials and began to head back to civilization. My personal relationship with a tonberry is not only a merit to both of our characters, but makes for a fantastic read to the public, I think. Some last words from this freelance before I head back off for an adventure: Don't gamble with a short, hatred-filled beastman with a knife in it's hand.