Glob And The Pushdugs

[the 1 bow 1112]

The dark night sky slowly washed across the horizon as the crackling of the bonfire sung across the open sands amongst the many blargs of the new orc capital. Orcs Goblins and Ologs alike congregated together around the great blaze. It was an unusually cold evening in the desert. The Rex Phaedrus’Yar sat amongst the crowd, as did the Yar Warchief, Malog.  Targoth Kahn, Wargoth of the Braduks sat with his clan, as did Wargoth Nagg’Raguk, Wargoth Drak’Lur and Warchieftess Duruh’Gorkil, all joined by their clan members. The Iron Uzg was a single entity, never weakened. An orc grandmother stood up, her frail sinewy form hobbling to its feet. She held her hands up, motioning for silence.

 

“I once told the story of the Goblin and the Elder ((find that here https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/131240-tale-of-the-goblin-and-the-elder/)). It was a tale about brotherhood and selflessness. Well, there is another story I recall from my days that I think we all need to hear.

 

The tale of the Pushdug clan.

 

In the days before Tythor hammered out the foundations of orcish government, laying the building blocks of a regime that still holds its place to this day; there was a clan, known as the Pushdug. The Pushdugs were a terrifyingly warrior clan, said to even rival the Raxs in their time. Led by an orc named Valahk, the Pushdug clan made short work of any who stood in their path, leading raids on other clans and slaughtering nomadic orcs to take the goods that they had reaped for themselves. Under Valahks rule, they were unstoppable. He was strong, fierce and intelligent, being an excellent warrior and an equal strategist. This all changed one day, however.

 

Valahk had a younger brother, Glob. Glob always lived in his older brothers shadow, but he still had the respect of his people for his obedience, despite his ignorance and overall lack of intelligence. It was during the early hours of an otherwise standard morning that the fate of the Pushdug clan changed forever.

 

Glob woke next to his mate, Drala, and in turn, woke her up as well. She elbowed him in the ribs.

 

“Skahs sake Glob…I was sleeping.” She groaned out. Glob let out a chuckle, rising from his ensconcement of pelts and fabrics. He wrapped a loin cloth around and under his waist before strapping on gauntlets and shin bracers.

 

“Well its time to wake up. The three Shaman sisters have agreed to meet with me.” The bubbling orc said with a grin, struggling to get a knot in on his remaining arm gauntlet. Drala sprung up, eyes wide.

”They have..?” She asked. Glob gestured to his gauntlet, to which she began tying the knot for him.

 

“Yes!” He shouted. Drala immediately put her index finger to his tusked mouth, shooshing him.

 

“Quiet, you’ll wake the rest of the clan. They will tell you your destiny though?” Glob nodded slowly. “Well lets go”

 

The room was eerily quiet, and for that matter, dark. Only the occasional clanging of wind chimes broke the voidness of sound. Glob stood alone, on one side of the room, surveying what he could. He eyes quickly jumped to a space right next to him as a bang of a drum went off and the corner lit up with torches. Three robed ferocs, two old in appearance but one youthful, stood with perfect posture before Glob. The top half of their faces were covered with shadow, slathered out due to the hoods they wore.

 

“Glob’Pushdug, brother of Chief Valahk’Pushdug, you have requested to see us.” One of the old ferocs stated. Glob nodded, looking at all three individually.

 

“Yes, I come to ask, what does my future hold, where will fate take me?” Glob asked. The second elder feroc let out a soft grunt, grabbing a torch and dipping it into a clay bowel. Whatever the contents in the pottery were, they caught fire in less than a second. A flame slithered into the air, cackling lowly. Glob stared at the fire, assuming he would see a vision. Nothing. He looked up disappointedly. “Wha-…?” The young feroc spoke up;

 

“You will be a great leader…I see it in the flame. You…you will lead the Pushdug clan. With you at their head, the Pushdugs will become the mightiest clan amongst the orcs, even putting Krug’s tribe to shame. You will be Glob, Chief of the Pushdugs, and ruler of all orcs.” Glob was salivating, hanging on each word.

 

“How will I do this?” He began to ask, but before he could, the fire in the bowel, all the torches snuffed out and the room returned to darkness. Glob stood there for minutes, not knowing what to do. An annoyed voice of one of the older ferocs called out from the darkness.

 

“You’re supposed to leave.” Glob hurried out of the room.

 

“So? How was it?” Drala asked, the pair back at their blarg. Glob sat on their bad, leaning his chin on his hand, thinking.

 

“The ferocs said I would lead the Pushdugs. I will lead the orcs, and lead our kin to glory.” Drala looked at her mate, staying silent for a few seconds. Her mouth agape, she did not know how to respond.

 

“…Valahk stands in your way…” She muttered. Glob perked up, tilting his head at her.

 

“What?”

 

“Valahk is the current Chief, and for you to lead the Pushdugs to glory, he has to go.”

 

“How?”

 

“You have to kill him.” Drala said, looking directly into Globs eyes. He leaned back, sulking.

 

“But…hes my brother. The clan is doing so well with him in charge.” Glob replied in a sombre tone. Drala wrapped one of her hands around his cheek, pulling him in closer.

 

“Yes, but the ferocs said, with you in charge, you will bring victory to orc-kind. Valahk is in your way.” Drala told him. Glob sat up, grunting. He gave a nod, before rising, walking over to a shelf to retrieve his blade. Glob began to leave the blarg. “Glob!” Drala whispered, “Not now! Do it in the dead of night where no one can see you!”

 

“Oh, right.”

 

The day sank to night, and Glob was eager to begin walking his path of destiny. Arriving at Valahks large blarg, he snuck in with ease, as Valahk was not in the habit of having guards. Making his way through the home, he arrived at his older brother’s bedroom. He saw him, laid on his bed, his chest pressing up and down as he breathed quietly, and deep in sleep. Glob tiptoed over towards him, before being near face to face with him, kneeling beside the bed.

 

“Krug wills it.” Glob said subconsciously, before driving his blade directly into his brother’s temple with a mild crunch. As if on cue, a female voice floated into the room. Glob looked up, trying to pull the blade from Valahk’s lifeless skull. It was stuck. The female began screaming. It was Valahks life mate. Glob began ripping at the blade, struggling to pull it from his brother’s cranium. Valahks mate ran over and began punching him, so in turn, Glob left the blade in the skull and cupped his hand over the ferocs mouth, tackling her to the ground. Her muffled screams slowly faded as she suffocated. Glob looked at the two dead uruks, then ran from the blarg.

 

The two were discovered the following morning, their corpses burnt on a pyre, side by side. Valahk’s body had to be covered with a cloth as when the blade was finally removed from his skull, half of the bone came with it. The Pushdug’s lamented over their fallen chieftain, deeply wounded by the loss. The clan, with Glob as the next in the line of succession and no one else wanting to follow Valahk’s successful reign, elected him as the new Chief. Glob went to work.

 

With his sights set on achieving his ‘destiny’, Glob neglected domestic matters, and within weeks, the Pushdugs were low on food. Their resources were pushed to the brink as well, as when Glob commanded the other clans to join his cause, they all shrugged him off, resulting in Glob leading the Pushdugs to war. They lost every battle against the other clans. Failed battles, failed raids, successful raids led against them, famine and disease as well as simply growing discontent, the Pushdugs were dieing. Seeing no honour in slaying beat dogs, the rest of the clans left the Pushdugs to their own devices.

 

Without food, they resulted to eating their own waste, leading to a foul smell wherever they settled, as their clan lands had been conquered by rivals meaning they lived as nomads. What was left of the clan, had finally had enough of Globs rule. Under Valahk, the Pushdugs were a mighty clan, feared and respected. Now, they were parasites on their last legs of life. The people of Pushdug ambushed Glob, and his mate Drala during the night, and took both their heads. They went their separate ways after that.

 

It is not known what happened to the rest of the Pushdug clan afterwards, yet it is safe to assume that with the outbreak of the Clash of Clans war, they fell, like the rest of nomadic orcs did as well. ‘Glob’ became the orcish word for fool soon after, as he was a ignorant idiot, and ‘Pushdug’ became the word for stinky as well, the reason, is self explanatory.

 

What can we learn from Glob’s story?

 

Don’t be an idiot, first and foremost. Orcs are looked upon by other races as stupid, we are not, and do not be so.

Do not climb above your station if you are incapable. The Pushdugs were a strong clan under Valahk’s command, for he was a capable leader. Leadership is reserved for those who can lead, not who think they can.

Do not put your personal glory above the good of your people. We are the Iron Uzg, one nation of violence. We are a green tide, do not break the waves with idiocy.”

[James 425]

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