[Archived]MARTYR

[PraiseTheLord 868]

 

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CONTENTS:

I.  SPECULATIONS

II.  CASUALTY

III. REVELATIONS

IV.  ENDURANCE 

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I. SPECULATIONS

[X]

 

 

THE STENCH OF THE GOI HAD BECOME ADDICTING, THE BUSTLING LABOUR OF ORKS AND THE OCCASIONAL ROAR WHICH SHRIEKED THROUGHOUT THE HOUSES. BUT NONE WAS AS BOISTEROUS AS THE HALL OF THE REDSKINNED ORKS.

 

HAZURK’RAGUK AND THE REX SAT IDLY AT THE TABLE, EYES LAID UPON THE NUMEROUS GOBLINS AS THEY LAY WASTE TO THE FORGES. IT HAD BECOME AN IRRITATING TASK TO EVEN BREATHE FOR HAZURK, HIS INJURIES TAKING TOLL; BROKEN RIBS FROM HIS TUMBLE OFF THE HOLMNITE WALL, STEEL JAW FROM AN ORENIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE, VARIOUS BITS OF SHRAPNEL STUCK IN HIS SKULL DUE TO A GOBLIN PETROL-BOMBER, THE LIST CARRIES ON.

 

“BAH, AT THIS RATE I’LL BE GOING TO WAR IN A WHEELCHAIR.” THE ORK COMMENTED, BOBBING HIS HEAD TO THE REX AND PLOMPING DOWN ON THE CHAIR. “HURHUR.”

THEY LAID THEIR EYES UPON THE WARTABLE, MOVING CHESS PIECES FROM FORT STRONK TO FORT GIRTH, AND BACK FORTH. WAGH WAS UPON THE ORKISH KIN, AND MANY PLANS WERE TO BE DRAFTED. “HMM, DA BLITZKRUG GITZ AM TO MARCH FROM DA ZOUTH, AGH DA . . .” THE REX’S VOICE TRAILED OFF NONCHALANTLY AS HAZURK EYED THE ENTRANCE OF THE HALL, MERELY TO SPOT A FAMILIAR SIGHT.

 

AN EBONY WOLF, WITH CANTALOUPE EYES, GLOWERING DOWN INTO THE FORT. IT’S EYESIGHT POISED TOWARDS HAZURK . . .

 

“HAZURK, ON ME. WE’RE GOIN’ CHECK THE DEFENCES WITH PUKNAAK.” THE REX BLURTED, SHAKING HAZURK’S FOCUS TO RETURN.

 

THE TWO BEHEMOTHS MARCHED OFF TOWARDS THE ENTRANCE OF THE GREAT HALL. THE WOLF NOW ABSENT, YET HAZURK COULD HEAR THE FAINT AMBIENCE OF CACKLING OFF TO THE DISTANCE. . .

 

 

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II. CASUALTY

[X]

 

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HIS FATHER DID ALWAYS BLURT THAT HE WAS BORN UNDER PAXARHU’S MOON, A FOOLISH, PRIDEFUL ORK. IT WAS YET ANOTHER SLOW DAY AT FORT STRONK, THE ORKS OFF TO THE BACK OF THE FORT TOOK THEIR TIME CHIPPING AWAY TEDIOUSLY AT THE TREES, AND SIMULTANEOUSLY BARRADING THE LANDSCAPE TO FORM TRENCHES.

 

HAZURK, HOWEVER, SPENT HIS TIME PATROLLING THE ROADS OFFSIDE, INSPECTING THE FORT FROM AFAR. OFTEN, HAZURK EYED THE TRAVELLERS AND MERCHANTS PASS BY WITH GLEE, YET FEARFUL OF THE FORT. A MISCHIEVOUS IDEA SPROUTED IN HIS THICK NOGGEN.

 

HAZURK TOOK UP POSITION IN A BUSH NEAR THE ROAD, CLEAVER READY. HE SPOTTED HIS PREY, THE DARK ELF STUMBLING FORTH. PATIENTLY,  READYING HIMSELF AND TENSING HIS MUSCLES. IT DREW CLOSER, NEARER TO THE AMBUSH PLACE. . .

 

HAZURK LEAPT OUT AND SWUNG HIS CLEAVER IN A DELIRIOUS FLURRY, HIS MAW STRETCHED WIDE OPEN, SPIT SPEWING OFF ONTOP THE ELF. AS QUICK AS IT BEGAN, THE ELF SWIRLED AROUND TOWARDS THE TREES AND RAN OFF, SCREAMING ALL THE WHILE. “HURHURHUR.” THE YAZGURTAN CHUCKLED, MOVING TO SHEATHE THE CLEAVER ONTO HIS BELT ONCE AGAIN.

 

“I WOULDN’T DO THAT, IF I WERE YOU.” A VOICE CALLED FROM ON TOP THE HILL. THE SILHOUETTE SCRAMBLED DOWN TO TAKE HIS STANCE NEXT TO THE ORK. AND ONCE AGAIN, THE MONOTONOUS LIFE OF FORT STRONK TRANSPIRED. THE TEDIOUS CONVERSATIONS AND TIRESOME LABOUR.

 

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THE YAZGURTAN SPENT HIS TIME TALKING TO THE LIKES OF RENATIAN MENT, OF WHOM WERE CALLED THE REITERS. THEY ENCOMPASSED IN A PETTY ARGUMENT, IT  WAS THEN WHEN AN HORN SHRIEKED THROUGH THE TENSE AND CLOGGED AIR OF THE FORT. THIS WAS AN USUAL OCCURRENCE, BUT NOT FOR THIS PARTICULAR RAMSHORN. A POPULOUS COMPANY OF WOOD ELVEN VIRARIM MARCHED UP IN THEIR SHINY ARMOR, CARVEN ITHELANEN AT THE HEAD. THE HORN BLEW AGAIN, AND THE GROUP TURNED TO THE TREE-DENIZENS.

 

“LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS, ORK! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES.” WAS SOUNDED, BEING SHILLED BY VARIOUS MURMURS AND NODS OF AGREEMENT. THE GROUP HAD ALREADY HAD THEIR ARMS DRAWN, AND HAZURK MIRRORED THEIR AGGRESSIVE POSTURE.

 

BUT HE WOULD NOT BE UNDERMINED BY A PARTY OF PANSY TREE-HUGGING ELVES. THE ORK ROLLED A FAT WAD OF SPIT IN HIS MAW BEFORE SPEWING IT OFFSIDE. IT WAS THEN WHEN HAZURK MARCHED FORTH, INSULTS AND MOCKS ROLLING OFF HIS TONGUE. “****!” “SHITLICKING GITS!” AND VARIOUS OF THE SORT FLEW PAST DOMINION EARS.

 

 

 

IT WAS ONLY WHEN HE MOCKED THE GRUNT OF THE LITTER THAT ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE ON THE ROAD. A SWORD STROKE NIPPED THE TIP OF HAZURK’S THROAT, AND THE WARBAND ENSUED SHORTLY AFTERWARDS.

 

HAZURK’S CLEAVER SWUNG FAST AND TRUE, HITTING MANY A WOOD ELF. THIS WOULD BE FRUITLESS, HOWEVER, AS HE STOOD ALONE. A SINGULAR ORK FACING THE NUMEROUS GROUP. IT WAS CARVEN ITHELAN WHO DEALT THE FINAL BLOW, STICKING HIS BLADE DEEP INTO THE ORK’S RIBS. SILENCE DROWNED THE AIR FOR A BRIEF BREATHER, BUT THIS WAS SHORTLY LIVED;

“KRUGMAAAAAAAR!”

THE ORK ROARED, COMMEMORATING AN OLD VOW HE HAD TAKEN NEARLY AN AGE AGO.  THEN, THERE WAS SILENCE. THE SCARRED ORK THUMPED ONTO THE GROUND AND WAS QUICKLY SURROUNDED BY CRIMSON LIQUID.

 

 

[X]

IT HAD ENDED. 

 

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III. REVELATIONS

[X]

 

 

HAZURK’S EYES SPRUNG OPEN, PUPILS WATERY AND NOSTRILS FLARING. HE  IMMEDIATELY KNEW WHERE HE WAS, ALL ORKS HAD TAKEN NOTE THROUGH THEIR EXAMINATIONS OF ZTARGUZH’STROH.

 

GUNDAR BROSHAN. THE PLATEAU OF ARRIVAL. HAZURK STOOD, PEERING AROUND. SEVERAL CRACKS SCARRED THE TARRED FLOOR, GREEN MIST FUMING OUT AS IF THE SURFACE ITSELF WAS BREATHING. OCCASIONALLY, ORKS WOULD MATERIALIZE OUT OF THIN AIR MERELY TO SLIP BACK INTO THE CRACKS TO MAKE THEIR REINCARNATION IN THE MORTAL REALM.

 

MOST NOTABLY, HOWEVER, WAS THAT HAZURK’S FLESH WAS CLEAN AND DEVOID OF ANY INJURIES OR SCARS. HIS DISMEMBERED ARM SEEMS TO HAVE GROWN BACK INTO PLACE.

YET THERE WAS NO TIME FOR CELEBRATION, NOR WAS THIS THE PLACE FOR IT. HAZURK HAD NO FOOD, WATER OR WEAPON FOR DEFENSIVE PURPOSES, HE HAD MERELY A DESTINATION; THE GATE OF KOR AND ENTRY TO ZTARGUZH’STROH.

 

FOR WHAT SEEMED LIKE MONTHS, THE ORK TRAVERSED THE DESOLATE PLAIN. HIS THROAT PARCHED AND MIND DEVOID OF CLEAR AIR. THE TOXINS CLOUDED HIS JUDGEMENT. WHAT APPEARED LIKE WELLS OR  GRUB QUICKLY REVEALED ITSELF AS MIRAGE. LIFE WAS DORMANT.

 

THEN HE SAW IT,

[X]

 

 

A GARGANTUAN WALL, BRAZIERS AND PIERCES OF LIGHT PENETRATING IT’S SURFACE. THE WASTELAND’S CORRUPTION SKIRTED AROUND IT’S BORDERS, AS IF TERRIFIED OF IT’S DIVINE PRESENCE. THE GATE OF KOR, ENTRANCE TO THE AFTERLIFE.

HAZURK STEADILY APPROACHED THE ENTRANCE, GLINTS OF MEMORIES THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE CLINGING JUST OUT OF EYESHOT. SOUNDS HE KNEW BOMBARDED HIS BRAIN, YET HE PAID NO ATTENTION TO IT.

INSTANTANEOUSLY, A DUO OF WOLVES, BLACK AND WHITE WITH EMBER EYES, EMERGED FROM AN HOLE IN THE WALL, CHASING EACHOTHER’S TAILS. THE PLAYFIGHTING WOULD QUICKLY DEGRADE INTO A BRAWL, BOTH BROTHERS, TAGNIR AND RINSDAT HOPING TO CLAIM DOMINANCE OVER THE OTHER. IT WAS OBVIOUS WHO THE VICTOR WOULD BE, AND DECISIVELY TAGNIR, SPIRIT OF DEATH, THE BLACK WOLF, CAME OUT ONTOP.

 

HAZURK COCKED HIS HEAD TO THE TOP OF THE WALL, FIGURES FROM HIS PAST LIFE PEERED DOWN TOWARDS HIM; TURKURZ’RAGUK, U’LA’YAR, WUD’FUD, HIS TWINS, PANIHK’RAGUK AND GRIK’RAGUK.

JOY RAGED IN HIS MIND AS THE GATES CREAKED OPEN, A BLAZING LIGHT SHINING THROUGH.

 

HOWEVER . . . AS THE BEHEMOTH MARCHED TOWARDS IT, HE ONLY SEEMED TO BE GETTING FURTHER OFF. EACH STEP TOWARDS THE GATE PULLING HIM BACKWARS. HAZURK’S INJURIES REINTRODUCED THEMSELVES; ARM ROTTING OFF, HIS VISION BLOODYING. THE MEMORIES AND VIBRATION FROM BEFORE FINALLY SEIZED HIS BRAIN, AND HE FINALLY UNDERSTOOD.

“**** THE SPIRITS!”

“I SERVE KRUGMAR, NOT THOSE GITS.”

“WHY SHOULD I? THEY TOOK MY EYE.”

HAZURK’S WORDS OF BEFORE BANGED AGAINST HIS FOREHEAD, WITH TAGNIR’S CACKLE ONCE AGAIN PIERCING THE AIR. THE GATES SLAM SHUT, THE OVERLOOKERS ON THE WALLS ABSENT. THE GATE OF KOR GREW SMALLER UNTIL IT WAS A MERE PETITE DOT ON THE HORIZON. . .

 

 

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IV. ENDURANCE

[X]

 

 

IT HAD TO HAD BEEN YEARS SINCE HIS ENTRANCE TO THE AFTERLIFE WAS DENIED. THE ORK, IF HE WAS TO BE CALLED ONE, WAS MALFORMED. HIS VISAGE HAD MINORLY ADOPTED THE APPEARANCE OF THOSE WHO HUNTED HIM.

 

ALWAYS AROUND THE CORNER THEY LINGERED. THE INFERIS OF WHOM WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO REAP HIS SOUL. BECAUSE OF THIS, TORMENTED EXISTENCE INSIDE OF FIGUG UZG WAS TORTURE. THE ORK’S FLESH WAS ROTTEN, FLAYED, HIS STOMACH NOT KNOWING A FULL MEAL IN A MILLENIA.

THE MOST UNFAVORABLE OF HIS EXISTENCE, HOWEVER, WAS THE MENTAL STRENGTH OF THE ORK.

 

SLOWLY, THE TAINT SPREAD OVER IT AS HIS SOUL WAS ARRESTED OVER TIME, THE FERAL HABITS OF TWITCHING, BLOODMOUTHED COUGHS AND THE LONGING FOR SOUL TAKING PRECEDENT. THE DELICACY HAD CONSUMED HIM, THE CRUELTY OF THE SPIRITS DAMNING HIM TO ETERNAL SUFFERING. . .

 

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[herculean_wud 3662]

Leydluk looked down upon the uruks. They did not seem heavy of heart, nor even sad:

 

"Hazurk 'ave left us, bruddas." The Rex said, solemness evident in his voice, "But he 'ave left ta' da Stargush, where he shall continue in his eternal klomp. Rejoice for 'Azurk, for he am free, agh avert lat anga' towards da Dominion. For d'ey am da ashes dat did dis: first U'la, now mi very own clans-man. Ash hai, Ash Uzg, ASH REX!" He boomed.

 

The uruks rose up into a torrent of cheers.

[Novastral 582]

"Finalli dat uld koot kicked da buket." Duk'Braduk says while wiping away his tears. "Gug'ye  Brudda."

[TheNanMan2000 473]

Murak, tending to his own and his Demigryph's wounds, hears of Hazurk'Raguk's demise.  Perhaps the two had differing ideals, codes and philosophies, but they were decendants of Krug "Gahk headz zhall be zakryfized fer Hazurk, in dah naym uv dah Thagurz Grizh!" the purple-pigmented Uruk splashes a Zawabate potion into his and his Demigryph's wounds, leaving them to bleed until he had full-filled his promise.

[erikur 91]

"He wuz ah zkahin' tough git, yub." Nagg says, whilst nodding. "Gug'ye brudda."

[_Jandy_ 3519]

"Did nub alwayz git alung wiv him but he wuz mi Bruddah agh alwayz had Krugmar'z bezt interezt at heart. Hiz flattin' will be payd fur many tikz ovuhr." Nazark would say 

[Smaw 2376]

((Good post. I actually liked Hazurk as a defiant character- glad to see you went through with that to the end.))

[Pond 1069]

A singular boom would emit from within the Swampgoth's wetlands upon receiving word about his close friend. 

"KRUG! KRUG! KRUG! KRUG!"

The chanting would die down, and the Swampgoth barked as he rose a wood elven head into the sky

"FIRZT U'LA, NUW HAZURK, DEEZ KUHNTZ WIYL PEY FUR DIZ.

 

WITH WAGH."

[Gressy 61]

Anak'Lur watches the body of Hazurk be brought into Fort Strong by the Rex Leydluk. Anger growing inside of him as the wood elves have struck down yet another one of his kin.  As the REX hands the body over to Gork for his head to be removed, he roars, "Da tall treez muzt burn, onli leaving ash behind wid da bonez of da twigiez in wid'in da ztone wallz ov der city." He watches the removal of Hazurk's head by Gork, closing his eyes after the head hit the head hit the ground, remembering the most honorable deeds and strength shown by fellow uruk.

[RalphGiezer 68]

Zhag, along with Elphaba who would be riding a pack mule carrying several pounds of cacti, traversed the vast sands sluggishly thanks to the blistering heat of the lifeless desert. During their travels the duo would encounter a fairly large cactus, a tiresome smile appeared upon Zhag’s expression. He’d approach it with a crude knife at hand; peeling at the thorns, he’d grunt to Elphaba, “Mi nebbur lyk’d dah uld zkah’r perzuunalii… Bub mi ztyll hab mi rezpektz voor ‘im.” Soon after peeling away at a majority of the thorns, he’d wrap his hands around the plants smooth shaft, “Et am hozh daht hee am vlaaht noow. He am ag peeze, he am wit his bruddahz, he am wit U’la…” His voice would grow solum to U’la’s name- his figure would be almost as still as a statue, before finally returning to his labors. “Hee am awey vruum diz Krug voorzaykuun uzg… et am all azh lyk uz kan azk voor…” With one heaving tug of the plant, he’d practically rip the cactus from the earth’s grasp from the root down.
 

[Guzr 2050]

Thalrim would walk in the streets of the city, his body covered in rags. His mind steered him towards the local tavern. The undead sat down and started to listen to the word of the other patrons, each telling their story. Men who fought in wars, slaves getting captured, families slaughtered and finally the story of a dead red orc. The undead scootched closer, listening very keenly. " I heard that one of the elders of raguk got killed" the undead's mouth gaped open and asked "Boyy..., o' w'om do ye ssspeak " the man turned his head, then recoiled in disgust at his rotten visage and smell "hazurk" the man said. If he had any blood let in my vein it would have gone dry. The undead took his mug and left without paying, saddened by the loss of his brother and dear friend. Behind him he heard the bar owner yelling for him to pay, he clenched his fist and walked off into the icy snow.

 

The true curse of undeath has finally taken its toll on thalrim.

[osumanduas 1442]

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