We shall rebuild..

[Starfelt 1437]

Spoiler

 

 

16th Of The Deep Cold | 1668

 

Fauth of clan Yar sat within one of the thick forests of Atlas. The smell of smoke hung in the air though was accompanied by a horrendous smell, that of burning flesh. In front of the half-orc was a wildfire, it spread from tree to tree, burning everything within its path though the man seemed unafraid. Within the fire one could spot something; a figure. The figure screamed in pain for a short while, arms flailing about as the flames licked at his skin and burned away his being. Fauth spoke beneath his breath, chanting “Fur zhe zpiritz...Fur zhe zpiritz.. Fur zhe zpiritz!” His body rocking in place as he chanted, the screams of the figure mixing in with his chants to create a truly haunting song of worship. Fauth continued his chanting, tossing cactus green into the fire which sizzled and popped, burning away within the heat. The green created a new smell within the air, the orc taking a long deep breath inwards.

“Fur zhe zpiritz...Fur zhe zpiritz.. Fur zhe zpiritz!”

As the orc finished the chant the figures screams of agony fell silent. Fauth slowly opened his eyes and stared into the fire, the roar filling his ears. “Fur Yar” He’d mumble beneath his breath, he’d reach within his pocket and withdraw a small topaz, tossing it into the fire alongside the green, and now quiet figure. He’d lift himself to his feet, turning and walking away as the fire raged on. He walked through the thick forest into the dry deserts and across the scorching sand, not a word spoken. He walked and walked.
When he arrived at the mighty walls of Krugmar, he was nothing more than skin and bones, weak. His skin cracked and burned from the sun. Though he didn’t stop, he continued past the gates, into the city. Past his brothers, and into the empty clan hall of the Yars.

He fell to a knee, looking upwards upon the seat in which the wargoth should have sat, a snarl escaping him as he slammed his weakened hand into the ground, a vile cracking noise filling the air as he did so, though he did not react, his mind racing. “Lat shuuld be seeted there.. Yet lat am nubwhere tu be fund!” He’d scream, lifting himself to his feet though with some struggle. He’d step forwards towards the seat, and stare down at it. He’d turn and lower himself into the seat, looking out upon the empty clan hall, his eyes flicking shut as he whispered “Wi shall rebuild, Mi will bring uz back. Zhiz iz mi vuw”

He’d open his eyes.

“Mi am zhe Wargoth.”

[Burnsy 437]

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

 

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