Venom, Reborn

[LaCabra (Soda) 1519]

Venom, Reborn

 

Outside the old ruined desert of the Maturzgoi (Krughanistan) the moon shines brightly, casting an iridescent sheen over smooth dunes and tall spiny cacti. A warm wind brushes through the expanses of sand, and great cliffs surround the desert. It is in this area of the desert, a fair distance from the abandoned city, yet not out of sight of it, that an old arena lies.

 

This arena – more of a pit these days, really – is covered with a thin coat of speckled sand. Pikes with decrepit skulls, remaining from the days where the arena was alive with the battling of Orcs young and old, are dug around the pit, encircling it. A tattered black and red flag, the mark of the Uruks, swings lifelessly in the wind, worn by many hot days and stormy nights. The stairs that once led into the arena are broken down, unclimbable so that nothing may by chance climb down… Or climb out.

 

The skeletons of many-an-animal, some larger and some smaller, are scattered haphazardly on the floor of the pit. They all are picked clean, either by time, or by something much livelier. In fact, the smell of rot seems to rise from a few half eaten carcasses… Time is not what has killed these animals.

 

Grothmar sits crosslegged, watching the arena with vigilant eyes. The egg he had discovered within the recesses of a cavern as old as time itself had hatched within the Maturzgoi many moons before, its little hatchling growing under the blazing sun and his watchful care. It had been nearly a year since the hatchling had been born, and Grothmar had not ceased to feed it, care for it, and most importantly ensure that it did not escape from its pit.

 

As Grothmar watches, a scuttling sound rises from the arena, the creature’s den. Were it not for the shine of the pale moon upon its back, this black beast would not be seen with its armor as hard as steel, its pinchers as strong and sharp as ten blades, and its waving tail holding its strongest power… Venom. The year old hatchling, around the size of a pony, feeds, chewing upon the body of a young war boar. Its pinchers tear off chunks of pink meat, pulling them into the black beast’s open mouth.

 

Grothmar’s green eyes stare at young Baga (in the old Orcish tongue, it translates to poison) from a distance, he smiles, thinking. A powerful race that was thought to have gone extinct years before had been reborn under his eyes, under his care. The Scaddernack have endured.

[Watyll 1104]

((sodapops don't be a pleb and get a new Skype))

 

Rayd'Azog raises an eyebrow as he hears the far off scuttling.

 

"Skah juzd gut reel…"

[leave me alone 995]

[DrakeHaze. 2524]

Rex approved

[Burkester 1247]

High Shaman approved

[brotherpig123 38]

Random orc approved

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.