[Archived]Return from the Mist

[Pond 1069]

 

DURRR'LAK

 

 

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I. ABANDONMENT

 

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The rain did not stop in the Wonkawoods. Durrr’Lak held the goblin firmly “Schnub’nub..” The goblin could not speak, the arrow lodged deep into his back as the blood poured down, seeping into the waterlogged ground and wetting the old Lak’s hands. “SCHNUB’NUUUBBBB” the orc screamed, as the goblin slipped away, away from his hands into the swamp, and away from this cold world that was the Wonkawoods.

***

Months ago, as the duel between the Lur Rex and the Wargoth of Gorkil took place, Durrr’Lak felt a heavy sorrow in his heart. Many of his friends passed into Stargûsh'Strohor were gone on long pilgrimages. “Durrr..” the only sound he could make hardly expressed the emotions he felt. With a shake of his head, he left before the fight concluded, and the old, worn dwarven road welcomed him on his long journey to the Wonka Woods.

 

 

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II. THE SPIRITS

 

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Years had passed, and Durrr’Lak still felt the same sorrow he felt before, for the elves had slain many Rexes. When Durrr made his home within the swamps of Wonka Woods, he could not forget these grievances.

 

***

 

Durrr made his presence known within the swamps of the forest and had become massively zealous to the spirits, more so specifically, Laklul. Multiple shrines would be erected in the swamps, and dozens of lives would be sacrificed in the name of the true spirit of the swamp.

 

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III. LOSS OF A FRIEND

 

 

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Upon the seventh month of leaving the Warnation of Krugmar, Durrr’s and his goblin’s settlement had been attacked. As it began to rain, a party of a dozen elves had begun to raid his small encampment. The camp was stationed near where the battle to defeat Khurmt was, so there was multiple ready to fire ballistas nearby. Durrr went climbing up towards one of the ballistas, and his goblin friend had begun to charge at the elves. Durrr had not known of this, and upon reaching the ballista, he had aimed and took fire.

 

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A misfire had occurred, and the ballista bolt struck the ground beneath Schnub’nub. The small goblin went flying into the air, and through his ignorance Durrr had continued to fire the remaining ballista bolts at the elves, eventually drawing them away from their camp.

As the small skirmish concluded, Durrr had begun searching for Schnub, but to no avail. Finally, he had seen the small goblin, laying haplessly on the ground, a ballista bolt beside him, and the blood of his closest friend slivering away in the rain.

 

***
 

The rain did not stop in the Wonkawoods. Durrr’Lak held the goblin closely “Schnub’nub..” The goblin could not speak, the arrow lodged deep into his back as the blood poured down, seeping into the waterlogged ground and wetting the old Lak’s hands. “SCHNUB’NUUUUUB” The orc roared, as the goblin slipped away, away from his hands into the swamp, and away from this cold world that was the Wonka Woods.

 

 

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IV. LOSS OF MIND

 

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The swamp had begun to take its toll upon the olog, more months had passed, and the lonesome olog had begun to be driven crazy. With no one else to keep him company, he had begun to hear voices around him, but nobody. Sounds of footsteps, but no enemies. Sounds of war, but no drums. The years of living alone, no brothers to speak to, no friends, no war, had finally driven the olog mad.

 

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V. CRAVING BLOOD

 

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The madness had consumed Durrr’s mind so much, that he believed the spirits have spoken to him and given him a task. To kill. He had begun to hear more sounds, this time, the heavy, rhythmic beats of drums. He stared towards the ruined orc city of San’kala, grabbed his war cleaver, and set off, more bloodthirsty than an orc induced in bloodlust.

 

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VI. HATRED OF THE SHAMANS

 

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As Durrr began to set out towards the city of ruins, he had begun to ponder, and reminisce the memories of the short-lived Dominion-Krugmar war. He had known what orcs showed up to the war front and those that did not. To Durrr, he had his bloodlust-filled eyes set out on one clan. Yar clan... Even through his madness and isolation, he had not forgotten. Every skirmish, win or loss, he had not seen a single, living or fallen, Yar orc.

 

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VII. HATRED OF THE REX

 

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Upon reaching the ruined walls of the city, he had seen the effects of what had happened to the city. Tents burning, walls crumbling, trenches dug, but one thing had caught his eyes. A massive Raguk Myrzym outside the walls, and a Lak-Raguk warband following closely behind it. He had gripped the hilt of his cleaver, when, out of the corner of his eye, saw the opposing party.

***

He had seen the new Rex that took Morlaks place, upon his defeat of the duel. It was Shakul, of the Gorkil clan. His hatred grew even stronger, he had felt cheated. A weak Rex. He had heard from his goblin that he let the Horde into their land, their nation. And, without any tribute. One that unwhitewashed the most dishonorable orcs in the realm. Rage grew within him, his hand gripping the hilt of his axe as he walked towards the city, nearing closer and closer until he saw the trumpeting Myrzym, a young Swampgoth, and Raguk Wargoth rallying hundreds beneath it. One sound resounding over the rest.

 

 

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Credits to Flamelynx and Inferno_Ougi for helping write and finding pics

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

Glottgut woke to the sounds of laughing orcs. Groggily opening his eyes, he stepped out of his blarg to find orcs celebrating their victory at San'kala. Covered in gauzes and bandages, he lazily looked over the crowd but was overwhelmed with the celebration, ignoring his pain and joining in. Among them was Durrr'Lak, an olog he had not met, but one he had heard of. The war was underway.

[Dragonslayerelf 654]

Shakul, upon hearing of Durr'Lak's return, sought to make arrangements to have a great greeting. Durr'Lak was one of the few ologs he truly respected, acknowledging that it was Durr'Lak and his goblin that designed the city of San'Gorka. He contemplated holding a great feast, only to remember that the Gorkils and Laks were at war. The time for embracing one another as brothers long lost would come again.

[Novastral 582]

"Diz olog am deztined fur bub'hozh thingz." Duk'Braduk says while taking a break from napping.

[osumanduas 1442]

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