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[PK] The death of a olog


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The Death of an Olog

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It was a warm day in the lands of sutica, all was calm and the square was lively with folk as it always was, up until the sounds of heavy footsteps could be heard. An olog slowly trodded into the city, the giant eyeing over each and every one of the puny creatures, hungry for food, but even moreso then that, hungry to prove himself to wud. For this olog had done terrible things, and lost the favor of the spirits whom he worshiped. The void had taken his honor, his will, the big mouf that he fed had taken his daughter. It was time to prove himself once again to the spirits, to show his strength, and to prove that he may one day walk with his bruddas whom he had tricked and led to their deaths for his voidal momo. 

The olog readied his warclub, before issuing a challenge to the entirety of the city. It was time for these defilers of the spirits to be shown the strength of Krug, the might of Enthrok, and the hunger of Wud. He charged into the square beginning to lay waste to folk, crushing bones and proving the ferocity of his kin. The bells of war rang throught the city, and the square began to fill with the filthy mojo users, archers, and brave swordsmen. One elf, a ker of the ashwood clan Xavis, threw what seemed to be fire incarnate at the olog, setting him ablaze. the olog, full of rage and pain, embraced this fire, becoming a pillar of anger, rage, and death. He crushed the elves shoulder, sending him plummeting to the ground, and was about to crush another swordsman's skull, before the ascended, Rickard of Carnatia, came into the square. he shot a blast of his mojo at the ologs skull, denting it and sending the olog flying into a tree, nearly instantly killing the creature. 

 

Broken and bruised, Shrog the Olog, Elder of the Ogr clan, Former member of the clan Shuzig, Mouf of the olog hai, the Pale Death, Hunchback, father of a human cub, began to stand, his whole form charred, his black ferrum armor and spikes of aurum the only discernable thing within his inferno of death. The olog took one... two steps, looking to each of those whom eyed him with fear and terror, the olog a menacing threat even without the fire on his skin. He shouted into the city Miz Vlat.... Vor tha Zpiridz...” before crumpling to the ground, his form being burned and charred by the flames around him, his greatclub clattering to the side. The olog had fallen, and would not rise again. 

 

 

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The Swordsman Wolfenheim would remember the battle, one of the most brutal fights he had seen in ages. The fight would certainly have a lasting impact on his thoughts on orcs. “What a beast he was, though a true warrior if anything. Hope he finds peace if that is any possible.”

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“waaghh” Elrith cries out.

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Droktar’Lur would let out a yell louder than ever before as the fate of his old friend met his ears “MI BRUUDDA” he would slam his golem arm into the ground staring at the mojo rock for a moment before dropping to his bottom punching the ground before him “LAAAAAT NUUUUB DYZZZZ” he would then go to his feet and grab the door of his tavern and throw it across the city “NUB DYZ EN MIZ NOGGY” he would say before slamming his head into the wall, not knowing what to do

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