New Blood Rising

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The biting cold of Ceru was, to Vagud, almost unbearable. Despite the extended periods of time he has been spending there, he still has a very hard time adjusting to the climate which was almost alien to him. It was nothing like the glaring sun of the desert or the humid, mosquito infested jungle that had once been home. The coolest climate he had ever had to call home or spend more than a week's worth of time in was the swamp, but that was temperate enough to be bearable. But here on Ceru, where each breath is visible, was where he had begin to gravitate towards after the nearly four years of living more or less on his own in the wilderness of Axios. And yet, despite his slight shivering and his ears stinging from the cold, he stood stoically on the bridge connecting Sutica to its expansive farmland, watching the roads as people passed by on horse, on foot, or, in the case of one aristocrat, by carriage. He surveyed the rolling hills and the dense forest across from it for a moment before noticing a small band of Uruks coming down the road toward Sutica. He smiled weakly as he looked the gathering over. It consisted of two people: the one other Gorkil aside from him and Grool, and one brother who had shown interest in joining Gorkil. Vagud let out a small sigh, distressed at the size of the congregation, and walked over to the end of the bridge, meeting the group at the intersection between the bridge and the dirt path. 

 

Vagud cleared his throat once the Uruks were gathered in front of him and wasting no time in starting his speech. "Brothers, I am glad that you have gathered here." He said tersely, shifting his posture so he was standing tall and proud over his brothers. "I will keep this short and say why I have called for the Gorkils to come and meet here in Sutica. Our Wargoth, Grool'Gorkil, has stepped down. He told me that he believes he is becoming too old to hold such a position, and that the clan needs new blood. New leadership. And he chose to hand the title of Wargoth over to me." He paused for a brief second, both to gauge the reaction of the small crowd in front of him and to take a deep breath. "I have not been a Gorkil for very long. There is still much I need to learn about us and our history for me to truly be worthy of the title. But I will make sure I am worthy of being a Wargoth for this clan, and that our brothers not just in blood, but in spirit, will see a clan that is truly worthy of sharing the name of Gorkil. 

 

"But this will be difficult, and I hope that I can rely upon you, my brothers, to help me to bring glory to not just this clan, but to every descendant of Krug. The Uruk race, from our smallest brothers to those that rival bears in size, is struggling right now. The once mighty clan of Gorkil, the clan that has given the Uzg in all its forms the most Rexes out of all the clans, has been reduce to-" he gestures to the group in front of him. "-this. A clan the size of an Elven family. And many clans are like this now. I will try my hardest to make Gorkil a clan that is respected not just by our brothers, but by the world. I will make sure that we can keep the legacy of Gorkil, one of Krug's sons, alive. Ang Gijak-Ishi!"

 

[_Jandy_ 3519]

Nazark'Gorkil just arrives to the camp after the speech ends and searches to find what remains of his clan.

[PraiseTheLord 868]

Turkurz'Raguk sits infront of an campfire, smoking some Cactus. He exhales, smoke coming from his nose.