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The Last of The Greatest Heroes

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The Last Of The Greatest Heroes



Written by Darius




The Last of an Extinct Breed


 In today’s age, it seems like a hero appears at every battle in hopes to be remembered by their people. Yet none have made an impact on mankind and the world with his selfless act of bravery such as this orc has. He has seen it all, from the birth a Kingdom that is today still very prominent in the Empire to deepest depths no mortal eyes have ever seen the Nether. Giving up everything to maintain our plane of reality intact. This is the tale of Maur Azog.


Early Life


His tale begins at the United Aegis Coalition’s recruitment site outside of Kal’Urguan where he found himself the young Martin Benedict that sought to recruit him into the coalition, selling him on the idea that he will make a name for himself alongside him fighting the Undead. Though as much as he wanted to believe it, he eventually discovered that his service to the U.A.C. would go unappreciated by the Ascended when Martin Benedict was brought into their ranks promoting him to a commander. Under usual circumstances, this would have been viewed as something to be grateful for, though on one stormy night the Ascended sent the U.A.C. on an infiltration mission on the Undead keep north of the ruins of Winterfell. The mission was a complete failure and cost the lives of many U.A.C. soldiers. Upon returning Maur found many of his comrades departing from the U.A.C., most notably that of the departure of Abeam, a fellow orc who he shared the same ideals with.


Lost and disillusioned by this he took a backseat as commander letting Sage Benedict take control exonerating himself of any further responsibility. Under direct control of the Ascended the U.A.C. was rebranded as the Followers of Aeriel which will eventually become defunct due to lack of a proper commander with the departure of the original six Ascended. A few attempts were made through all proved to be failures as well. With a newly grown hatred towards the Ascended and their associates, he left the Followers of Aeriel, and in the process, stole from the Ascended vault a vast amount of gold and diamonds which he used to buy himself a house in Al’Khazar.


The Sariant


As the years the Undead taint began to spread outside of the gates of Al’Khazar. Forcing inhabitants to evacuate down south. Having no intentions to do so he readied his house for the invasion to come. Bumping into his former brother in arms Abeam with a letter of recruitment with a meetup location from the Teutonic Order despite never applying he was accepted.


With no better opportunities available to the lonesome orc he set off towards the location given to him. There he met a disappointed Mark DeNurem, wary of the orc due to his race. Meeting another person who thought of him something less. He didn’t make it known to him directly but inside he knew. He was the last thing he wanted to see or deal with. Despite this, he continued with his assignment and escorted the Orc to Konigsberg, the base of operations for the order.


Upon arrival, he was greeted by the founder Hochmesiter Gaius Marius and one of his OrdenMarshalls. There was settled in and given the tabard that he would wear for the remainder of his time amongst their ranks. In the first couple of days, he learned that Sariant life was nothing like he was used to. The organization and discipline demanded from their soldiers were far beyond anything he experienced with the Ascended. There was little room for mistakes and little tolerance for disobedience. They were all here for a purpose. They were all wearing the tabard of the Teutonic Order.


Though such order was not of his nature - he couldn’t help but question if his home was really with the Sariants of the Teutonic Order. Thus, he took a temporary leave from his duties with a pardon from Gaius Marius and traveled to Krugmar the home of all Orcs. Yet what he found was something completely abhorrent to him. Orcs outcasting others at best and at worst, killing each other. A primitive race destined to fail from its very conception. And as Maur saw this, nothing good can sprout from a race of people who revolve their lives around hatred for anything that challenges their ego. Naive and young Maur ventured forth unable to accept that all his people acted this way.


Luckily for him, he stumbled upon his brother, Urik Azog, who he had been separated for many years when he enlisted amongst the ranks of the United Aegis Coalition. He was always the opposite of Maur, hedonistic in nature, relishing in the rush of victory over another. Always taking joy in his primitive race’s pass times. However, Maur always excused this side of him, after all, Urik was his brother and nothing could break the bond between these two. He knew a side of him no other would know, he knew deep down that the two shared the same opinion of the Orcs of Krugmar. Yet they held out hope for their people. Wanting something more of them. Though these were just the thoughts of poor naive boys yet to see the horrors that awaited them in the future.


The Azog


Upon meeting each other, Urik Azog brought his brother to Fort Azog. A simple name for a plain group of orcs at first glance. Urik brought him to the Wargoth Tadok Azog, the chief at the time, where they exchanged greetings and came to enjoy each other’s company to Urik’s surprise, Maur was brought under the Clan as an Azog. Joining a family that he would proudly wear alongside the tabard of the Teutonic Order.


Maur used his knowledge of redstone circuitry to create mechanics that would protect the fort against raids that were to come from the Dwarven military. Allowing the Azogs to be the only Clan that was able to sustain an attack without casualties. His knowledge would later be written down and passed onto the goblins that would later swear underneath the Azog Klan, thinking them as progressive thinkers. With his time with the Azogs, he assisted in creating laws that would forever be followed by every generation of Azog. Written on a stone tablet, stained by the Azog trinity’s blood, the words were inscribed:


“Azog Shall Never Kill Azog” 


The Scorching Fires of the Nether




Maur went months alongside his Azog brothers before being called back into service by OrdenMarshall Samuel Bealcrest. Informing him that Landmeister Mirtok DeNurem will be holding a debriefing on the impending assault on the Undead. Seeing this as an opportunity to finally be a part of something far larger than just himself he set off back to Konigsberg where his arrival was met with a solemn nod from his Sariant brothers. Giving him a firm salute as the gates were opened for the Orc. There, he met DeNurem awaiting his arrival from Krugmar. There he remembered the words almost as he had been told them just now.


“Pack up, Sariant. You’re going to the nether.”


Thinking this as a joke, the Orc laughed as he just a plain rookie, waving off the Landmeister’s stern tone as a joke. The Landmeister is infamously known for his seriousness, just glared at the Orc. “You have three days until you depart with brothers Segari and Abeam.” It was as the Orc had lived out this moment just yesterday as he reached this part. He never seemed to stumble on his thoughts or words during his retelling.


On the day of departure, Hochmeister Marius bestowed the three champions of Hanseti their swords and gratitude for willfulness to serve the greater good alongside a scroll with their mission statement.


‘Neutralize all threats.’


With that, the three were escorted to be where the portal to the nether was located. Meeting up with the champions hailing from the Humans, Dwarves, Elves, and Orcs. The champions looked at each other knowing what awaited them on the other side. And completely ignored the second debriefing given by the council of nation leaders, which were simple capture and escort missions. They only needed the direct orders given from the Hochmeister earlier. With a final glance towards his brothers, they walked through the portal and gazing upon the Undead citadel. The final push.


Sariant Segari’s Journal -- The Nether: “Our Finest Hour”

No one ever complained about the unbearable heat in the Nether. We never felt it. Even though we were blinded by the lava spewing from above, we could see the final end of Undead at the very end of our sword’s blade. Was it only a mirage? Perhaps. But on that day, in that damned dimension, one thing was certain, our blood ran hot with dreams of victory, destroying any obstacles that stood in our way.

Provided by Maur Azog




As soon as the champions set foot in the nether they went to work. The boots of the champions slammed against the ground all in unison as though they were a small trained platoon, even though known knew another. They all bonded over one common goal - destroy the Undead. None of the men communicated, dispatching every servant sent by the Undead swiftly. Only grunts of men swinging their blades and hammers into decaying flesh. As they moved closer towards the very doorstep of the Undead menace the group had opened up loosely to prevent losses from incoming fireballs sent from the citadel. At this very moment, the men of Renatus had taken this opportunity to use the chaos as a way to dispose of the Sariants sent from their rival nation. Like snakes emerging from the grass, they struck at Abeam only to be sent into a pool of lava by Segari. Losing his sword in the process.


The group quickly detached from the Sariants and Renatians, having moved forth into the halls of the citadel. A stare off ensued between the two opposing groups, the Sariants having nothing to say to the coward champions of Renatus. Maur and Abeam charging across the bridge with their blades up high to strike at the cowards. Though before combat between the two groups can ensue a wave of Undead erupted from behind the Sariants and blew the bridge connecting to the entrance. The Renatians taking the chance to escape and leave the Sariants to their death. “An eye for an eye,” they mocked towards the two Sariant Orcs as they scattered into the citadel. Segari looked towards Maur, tossing him his journal and his iron cross necklace wrapped in his mission statement. “Tell them my story, brother. Make sure this Sariant never dies in fires of this dimension.” With a final nod, he turned and began tossing explosives towards the crowd of the undead, sending bits and pieces flinging into the air. Hymning a final prayer as the final moments came upon him, the undead wave pushing him over the ledge and into insufferably burn in the fires.


With a mission still needing to be done Abeam and Maur charged into the citadel. As the two made their way towards the group. “Honor your promise, Maur. It doesn’t matter where it is or when you do it. But honor it.” Maur knew he held the life of another man in his hands. What are we if we don’t harbor treasured memories? He asked himself. Everything his brother had experienced had been written in that journal and he trusted him with it. 


“Of course, brother. On my honor.”


As the three had come to find the group had dwindled in numbers. All three of the Elven and Orcish champions gone with only the Dwarves and Renatians alongside the Hansetians. Though as they approached they realized that the Renatians had attempted to convince the Dwarven champions of an assassination attempt. Though unbeknownst to the Renatians the Teutonic Order had held a reputation of the maintain a strict code of honor when dueling another.


“That don’t sound like the Sariants of the Teutonic Order, fellas” spoke up the ginger bearded dwarf.


“They lie to you, fellow champions. They struck first and caused the death of our fellow Sariant brother. Like snakes they are they try to use deception you, thinking you fools.” Sariant Abeam protested, pointing the end of his blade towards the Renatians.


“That ain’t in the nature of a Teuton, not with Gaius Marius in charge. If you lot have quarrel settle it elsewhere. Otherwise, let’s get a move on with the mission at hand.”


With that, the Dwarves trudged into a ritual room. Maur spotted a golden axe in the hand of a statue before moving on. With the two opposing groups left in the room, Renatian and Hansetian, the Renatians struck first again towards Abeam, the two so-called knights pinning the Orc up against the wall. However, the blast of Undead fireballs destroying the hall the dwarves had just gone down to which revealed a fall to the depths of the fiery pool of lava beneath them. This explosion sent Maur towards the opposite wall, rendering him unable to assist Abeam. Struggling with the Renatians, Abeam manage to get the upper hand pinning one of the two up against the wall, with an orcish grip he choked out the Renatian while his peer continuously stabbed at the orc's gut with his dagger. As Abeam began to fall to his wounds the wall behind the man was blown out, causing the two fall down.


As Maur came to, he looked to where Abeam once stood, only to find a hole in the wall that showed the ocean of lava beneath them. “Abeam...” he whispered to himself as he rushed over to the ledge to see Abeam, holding on tightly with a Renatian held around his legs. “Maur... go. Complete the mission.”


“Abeam, I can help. Let me.”


“I’m done for already, brother. Remember the mission, brother. I completed mine. Go.”


Abeam with a final nod, he handed him his mission statement before letting go and falling into the pool of lava below, killing the last of the Renatians. Maur felt the feeling he thought he would never feel again. The sense of hopelessness and loneliness. He was in literal hell by himself. Some say he shed his last tear here, for his fallen brothers. Still, disoriented Maur found his way out, ending up near the ground level of the nether. From there he made his way over to the Dwarves, assisting them in taking down Undead conjurers and all that stood in their way.


The citadel had begun to collapse and the mission was complete. The champions had successfully escorted the package to its destination and only one thing was left. To get out. Though Maur had no more will to continue fighting as the escape was being made. His vengeance was fulfilled, all threats were neutralized. He stumbled onto a rock, taking a seat as he watched the ceiling of the nether fall down in chunks and the Dwarves escaping through the portal. He tossed open the flap of his satchel, spreading out the paper that wrapped Segari’s necklace. As he threw Segari’s necklace around his neck, looking out at the lava ocean he thought; It was beautiful in a way truly that only he understood. It wasn’t something any mortal was meant to see but Maur had seen it. A simple Orc from the U.A.C. who happened to find himself at the frontlines of the defeat of the Undead because of the Teutonic Order. He grabbed Abeam and Segari’s mission statement and read over it.


Primary Tasks:

“Eliminate all threats”

“Ensure the survival of Brother Maur”

  • Hochmeister Gaius Marius

  • OrdenMarshall Samuel Bealcrest

  • Landmeister Mirtok DeNurem


He could only laugh in his grief, shaking his head. It was bittersweet to know someone was always looking out for him, even in what seemed like a mission that ensured the death of those who were assigned to them. Maur tucked the items away in his satchel and clutched onto his soulstone as the nether collapsed around him.


Last Moments


Fate had other plans for Maur Azog that night as his soulstone triggered sending him back to the ruins of the Temple of the Monks. The wounded Orc stumbled towards halfway towards the sailboats and found on the ground unconscious by a Sariant medic crew led by Mirtok DeNurem. They quickly recovered him and all of his belongings he collected from the Nether and escorted him to the Hansetian-Teutonic Order evacuation boat.


Maur Azog died peacefully among his Azog brothers on the night of the 16th of Horen’s Calling, 1490 when this was completed. The badges he received during his service in the Teutonic Order were mysteriously delivered to his Clan with no name but only an Iron Cross stamped in wax on the package. 


Today Maur Azog’s actions can be seen as ways to honor his departed brothers in the Nether as he reached ranks no Orc has ever obtained in human history. His influence can be traced into the early history of Hansae formerly known as Hanseti and the Golden Age of the Orenian Empire under Emperor Godfrey. 


Former titles include Hochmeister and OrdenMarshall of the Teutonic Order, Landmeister (Lord) of Grey Wall and Greywynn and Champion of the Nether.


Assisted in the founding second capital city for Hanseti in Asulon

First Orc OrdenMarshall and Hochmeister

First Orc to be a obtain a land title in Hanseti

Led the exodus of Sariants from the rule of Hochmeister Black


Author’s Closing Thoughts


When I set off on this journey to find relics that were never recovered from human history, I never thought it would lead me to a story deeper than what seemed to be a simple Orcish raiding band known as the Azogs. These Orcs have roots in Human and Orcish history that can be traced back to the time of Aegis. Though what I found in this particular Orc called Maur Azog was something more encapsulating than I could ever hope to find. The real heroes go unsung about until we find them. Sometimes a little too late, but maybe this is the way he wanted it? A quiet life removed from the public eye until he had finally accepted that the moment he grabbed the soulstone in the Nether as a last resort, a piece of him had died down there with his brothers. Though one thing is for certain; Maur Azog wasn’t once a hero, he is still a hero to this day. We reap the fruits of his sacrifice the day he stepped into the nether alongside the other Champions to this day.


Written in memory of the real heroes of legend, the Nether Champions.





Author’s Sources

Archived books from the Great Library


- The History of Hanseti (Teutonic Order Era)



- Written documentation of ‘Our Tales of Valor’ by Grimwald DeNurem



- The Teutonic Order: Hall of Heros



- Journal of Sariant Segari


- Maur Azog’s retelling of events


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It would not take long for Simon Basrid to consume the account entirely. Enchanted by the tales of old Aegis, he would go to the Holy Father and request a deeper investigation of these documents.



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“A true legend to remember. No man of today could compare to the those who challenged the Scourge of the Nether.” 

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Exert from an old ascended dwarf's journal.


"Azogs are renown warriors and a fearsom orc clan. Ive met many in my days as an ascended and continued to bump into them as I traveled. I fought beside one called Maur many times, against undead, renatians, and even other orcs. One could say a dwarf could depend on this orcs honor"



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A passing fellow comments “We are here today because of Maur Azog”

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Halgrim the Hanseti hears the tale of his brothers of yore. Reminded of all it means to be a sariant. He chuckles off some tears as he hears the bit where Maur reads Segari’s and Abeam’s order. Humbled, he begins constructing a tribute monument to Ordenmarschall Azog.

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An old teuton hears the story, patting down his helmet as tears escape through the metal. “He was a pretty good friend, a true brother.” 

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((I had to condense the boring parts to keep it interesting))

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