Smoke and Fire | Rex Skalp's End

[Guzr 2050]

SMOKE AND FIRE

⚙-⚙-⚙

THIS URUK’S END

 

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♩ ♪ ♫ ♬ ♭

 

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CONTENT:

I. DEATH

II. AFTERMATH

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“Lizten up! After our surrenda’ against da gazat, we are handin’ a prizona over to da stouts. Initially it was Korgahk’Gorkil, but after Skalp’s actions in da warzone, the stout King asked for him personally to take Korgahk’s place! Skalp blahs we march at dawn.”

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I. DEATH

 

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“Everyash, behind mi. Mi flats today.”

Skalp stood outside of the Dwarven capital, the rain above pelting against his shoulders and his back. If it were not for the ingredients inside, the chrome warpaint slathered across his face would of been torn away. Behind him stood the Uruk, including his brothers, the boila boys; that of Eyeboila and Brainboila. Many of them had watched him fight alongside them in the Gazat-warzone. They had watched him as an ambitious child, they had watched him rise to the throne of Krugmar and take Rexdom, they had watched him sit upon said throne and his realm prosper. Now, they were here to watch him die.

 

It was then, awaiting the dwarven forces to come retrieve him for his execution, that Skalp’s daughter Nakita looked to him.“Latz wuz da bezt popo evur. Latz wuz nub alwayz deyre in bodi but latz waz deyre in thoughtz.” Skalp moved to answer: “Agh mi kould nub have asked for a more honorable daughter, Nakita. Rulg, for everythin.” 

 

Then, dwarven messengers emerged from their cave, demanding the Uruk entered their abode. After a while of bickering, Skalp and a few others from his entourage entered the dwarven capital. Their throne room was large, and the Grand King Utak sat and watched the unchained Uruk enter; his own peoples sitting at his sides, eager to see the altercation.  For a moment, silence cascaded across the hall’s walls, then Utak spoke.

“Yeh will beh Ironcasted ehn put up as a statue as a remoindah tuuh errehone w'o wishes t'a risk da lives o' deir people fo' 20 000 minae, dis is da most merceh ah'll show tuuh yeh, allowehn yehr tale tuuh live on tuuh remoind da people o' Krug o' deir  actiuns suh dey willnae maek da same mistake again.”

 

 

Outcries of joy came from those dwarves around. Some flew insults of ignorance, trying to incite a rage within the Uruks, others conjured up naught but a stoic stare, their respect for their previous adversaries keeping them silent. Fiil’Yar, she who educated and raised Skalp, attempted in reasoning with Utak; 

Though the dwarven king had tasted blood, and naught would quench his thirst for more.

 

Skalp stepped forth, his mind awash with memories and thoughts. He knew this was the end, he knew his life was forfeit; but he did not fear. In fact, a sense of tranquility beamed through his heart. His maw opened in reply.

 

“This Uruk that stands before lats does nub fear flat. Mi has faced it many tiks before. Mi have created agh ended life, agh mi am apologetic for nothing. Da Ancestrals welcome mi, agh Krug smiles now upon mi. Mi wished to flat with the sun on mi  back; but mi faith in Stargûsh'Stroh will allow me to flat with da fire of da starz above in mi throat!”

 

Then, the Goliath charged forth. He had one chance, one card to play before the end. His hands moved to grasp at the boomsteel flasks resting at his waist; lofting them up and projecting the drinks of fire towards Utak. They spun and circled, rotating in the air before erupting at the Grand King’s feet; conjuring forth a shockwave of flame and shrapnel. The room’s air soon filled with a mixture of smoke and screams, as the Boila Boys charged forth to tackle at those near Skalp. A dozen swords unsheathed as chaos ensued and the legion jumped into fray, hoping to slay the three uruks in the pit. 

 

Skalp unsheathed his own cleaver and twirled about, swinging it madly like a frenzied mammoth. The blade’s edge came across many a dwarf, slicing their arms or breaking their ribs; though none could touch him. “Lo there! Mi peeps mi momo!” Skalp continued as his blade arced throughout the air; painting with blood as he garnered visions of the afterlife. Eyeboila did the same, kicking and thrashing wildly. “ Lo there! Mi peeps mi popo!” Brainboila would cry in rage as an axe stuck to the back of his skull, splitting his face in two as if a cake; and promptly he fell to his knees.  Skalp looked across the field as twenty dwarves raised their arms to three uruks. He thought of Fiil, his mother, of whom raised him since he was young. He thought of his brothers, who he had raided alongside. He thought of his kub, Nakita, who’s childhood he had missed due to war. He thought of his lifemate, Ugrad, whom had always been at his side. Then, his maw erupted in a final boisterous roar as charged at Beowulf. “ Lo there, mi bruddas agh sistahz, lat's call mi to mi home; agh mi will answer!”

 

The human’s sword cascaded forth towards Skalp’s chest as he charged. Unbeknownst to those around, however, Skalp donned ‘Explosive Dreams’, that of a low density boomsteel cuirass. As the blade crashed into the Uruk’s chest; sparks screened into the atmosphere. Next; was the flame.

All those who had fought were thrown backwards in an explosion of goliath proportion; shrapnel and bone splintering across the hall. The explosion killed many a dwarf; and injured many more. The Rex who had fought a moment before; was now but a cloud of ash swirling in the air.

Skalp’s brothers were dead too, what remained of them lying strewn across the hall’s floors; their dismembered limbs intermingled with dwarven ones. A canvas of blood, gore and flame decorated Utak’s throne room. The Grand King was lucky enough, saved by Uldraek and pulled from the blast’s fray whilst Korgahk’Gorkil the Dishonorable shielded the dwarven king from the shrapnel’s sting.

 

However dead Skalp was, his name lived on. Snawt escaped the Underrealm’s fiery grasp, soon returning to Krugmar and  living to tell the tale of Smoke and Fire, this Uruk’s death.

 

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II. AFTERMATH

 

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Black.

That was all Skalp saw. It was like this for what felt like many days after his explosion. Eternally his thoughts pondered the possibility that the spirits had never existed at all, that they were a cheap trick written up to inspire his brothers to die valiantly. Then, a verdant green light beamed infront of him. With each step he took towards it, it felt as if his limbs grew constricted and the area around him squeezed into his sides. He kept marching, however, and soon found himself crawling through a tight space towards the light; crawling still, his sides scraping open via the darkness of which felt to him like ashen rock.

 

Finally, his hand reached the light; and he pulled himself out of the ground. Around him was a wasteland, the realm of Apohet, the Gundâr Broshan. It was blackened stone, with canyons and cracks littering the ground, toxic green fumes circling and exuding from said holes into the air. It was from one of these holes he came, and he saw others, too; grasping and crawling their way into the Ancestral plane from the green fog, or falling back into it towards the Monk’s temple.

 

Though, amongst those crawling themselves into the afterlife, was his two brothers; Eyeboila and Brainboila; reunited in hell. They had offed themselves in the explosion to accompany him in the journey each ork knew since they were a child; that to the Gates of Kor, where the spirits would decide if they were worthy of entering Stargush’Stroh.

 

Their journey was long, or was it quick? It was hard to tell in Apohet’s realm, for there was no sun to warm their cold, and no afternoon meals to sate their hunger. Nonetheless, they lumbered on, occasionally seeing the dishonored hunters, the souleaters, eyeing the journey on the horizon. Soon enough, however, the gate of Kor appeared in the distance. 

 

 

As the trio neared, the masses at the gate seemed only to multiply. Thousands if not millions of dead walking silently without a word towards Doraz agh Kor, a behemoth gate nearly a kilometer into the air. Rwo giant foxes; the spirits Ragnir and Tor, chased eachothers’ tails infront of the gates, playing to see if life or death would win. 

 

The silence was deafening. It seemed the gate waned; as if Stargush’Stroh itself was breathing and alive. With the next blink Skalp gave, everyone else vanished, as if they were never there. It was merely him, Ragnir and Tor. 

 

The two foxes crawled towards him, their teeth bared and their eyes ablaze with hunger. They circled him, occasionally snapping their fangs towards him in feign assaults; though some sort of shield blocked their attacks. They were debating Skalp’s worthiness of entering the Ancestor’s halls. 

 

 

After many a moment, both foxes withdrew, and went back to playing anticlimactically, leaving Skalp in confusion. He looked back, the gates were still closed. Nothing happened for what felt like hours, and the realization of his situation dawned on Skalp.

It was silent, and his denial into Stargush’Stroh was obvious. He had, after all, burned down shrines to conjure motivation for the Stargushob. The lost souls wailing before the gate started to materialize once more, and Skalp’s thoughts were clouded with bitter ideas of rejection; though he maintained a stoic demeanor.

 

Then, a warhorn blew. And the gates blew asunder, flinging open with a loud roar. At the centre, stood what seemed to be an aged Uruk, green in complexion. His white beard grew down to his chest and his veins popped as if they were filled with Daemon’s blood.

 

The uruk infront of Skalp was taller than he had ever seen, stronger than he had ever seen. Even their gaze filled Skalp with the urge to turn about and run, and their breath pulsed the ground to tremble;

Skalp knew who this was, Krug himself, whom had come to welcome him home.

He stepped forwards, sending his skull forth in a headbutt and embrace to the allfather. After decades of trial, pain, wars and raids; death and life, blood and gore, Skalp had finally been allowed into Stargush’Stroh.

 

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+   Notable Lesser Ancestral: Rex Skalp’Raguk the Skary, the Young, the Uniter, the Altruist; a Rex that united the orcish clans under his banner, and famously died wearing a boomsteel cuirass whilst blowing Urguan’s halls to smithereens. Known for his intelligence and ambition.

 

My mother told me

[fetty bridgers 4492]

Ugrad’Lur would have been walking back into the city of Krugmar with Nakita in his arms. Having to forcefully take her home to keep her from trying to save her father Skalp’Raguk. ”Eht wil be ukee Nakita..” he would say choking on his very words as he tries to hold back tears, “Latz popo wuz an honorabl uruk.. wih whill both reuninte with him someday” he would say setting her down as the tears overwhelm him, “Someday Skalp... Someday..”

 

[AmericanSimp 512]

Reserved

[ninjaclimb1 432]

Eyeboila Da Uglii.

 

Eyeboila, former Snagagoth and Targoth under his brother’s Rexdom, stood at the entrance alongside the rest of the orcish rally. Despite the rest, he was not a blubbering idiot. Those who were crying and making a scene of things only brought embarrassment to Eyeboila, who stood impassively as he awaited the inevitable execution of his brother. While he hadn’t intended his death to be in such a manner, he knew it would be soon, which was what had led him into painting the left side of his face in a chrome warpaint. This warpaint was the sign of a Raguk who was preparing for their own death in battle.

 

Eyeboila grew annoyed at the whimpering mess that was Ramohk, who stood behind him. He was sure others were also growing annoyed with this sniveling idiot, but Eyeboila was the only one dumb enough to act on his emotions. He turned, grabbing Ramohk by his throat, whispering into his ears. “Shut da zkah up.” While more would've followed, he was swiftly kicked in the bollocks, falling against the Ram. He tightened his grip on the Rams throat, intent to klomp him and beat him for the fourth time, before he noticed his brother descending into the Urugan city. He followed suit swiftly, one of the few who did so.

 

He watched his brother's speech from the sidelines, desperately trying to encourage Fiil, the apparent mother of Skalp,  to flee the throne room as she wouldn’t want to see what was about to happen. Despite this, she continued to plead and would have to face what was about to happen. Then it happened, Skalpboila made his move. Eyeboila now knew what had to happen, and he was sure Brainboila did too. Eyeboila let out a roar “Zkah Krugmar, zkah da Rex. Diz ahm for da boila boyz.” It was the mindset he’d had for years, he’d only stuck around, if only in the shadows, for his brothers. He’d become disillusioned with Krugmar when they’d started to perform so poorly in the warzone, and the Rex had surrendered so quickly. This was just cowardice in his eyes, and he no longer felt happy serving such a nation. He charged the man standing besides his brother, smashing his shoulder into him to give Skalpboila room to execute the plan. He drew his blade, slashing it through the air to stop any from approaching. Unfortunately, all the boila boys were swiftly jumped upon by the dwarven rally, clearly one much greater than the 3 fighting in the thing. They were swiftly beaten into the ground, not without putting up some kind of a fight while so wildly outnumbered, and this activated the final part of the plan. Eyeboila muttered a final “Gug’ye kuntz.” before he was engulfed in the explosion. He was quite amused that it was one of the boila boys who would kill off them all, but then suddenly he just didn’t care, as he was quite dead.

((had a run run on eyeboila, played him for quite a while on and off but he just got stale as I kind of made his personality a bit generic and it didn’t captivate me enough to keep playing him past this event, and it seemed a good way to pk.))

[CornPhlake 162]

Vrig’Shrogo would recall the first memory he had of Skalp. He had met the former Rex on his first trip to the city. They sat down in the tavern, and himself, Skalp, Fiil, and an orc he hasn’t seen in years, had some grog. As he remembered this memory, a smile creeped up on his face. He would then recall when he and skalp had extinguished those fires that plagued many of the shrines around the goi.He then remembered his final memory of Skalp, entering the dwarven city, denied an honorable death on the surface. The goblin would make his way towards the statue outside of the goi, staring up at it. He would then look towards the ground. With a sigh, he would place a small mushroom by the statue, shaded by the large figure. ”Rulg fur everidin’, Zkalp. Lat iz wiff Luara now.”

[Nozgoth 3083]

Neizkul’Gorkil cries out in despair, the ever-growing kub slamming his hammer against the wet mud. ”Skalp waz hozh uruk, tu manni trajedees...” 

[pkdon 1977]

reserved 

[Guest]

 

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There within the cold, stone halls of Urguan did Brainboila meet his bloody end. To the Stargush, alongside his brothers and by the guiding hand of Kor did he ascend, to now sup and fight and drink for the rest of eternity.

 

Yet another great lineage of Clan Raguk had ended, but their eternal mark on history would never fade.

 

ANG GUND GRIISH.

 

 

[Porkgasm 267]

Grume'Ogr bellows in rage upon hearing of the death of Skalp, the Olog throwing a childish fit as he lumbers through Krugmar. The dumb brute having dim memories of the Rex's firm leadership and bravery. 

 

"TIKK FLAT ZTUNTIEZ!"

[Hephaestus 1326]

”Later days, Skalp. Perhaps someday we will reunite in the fields of Stargush’Ströh, however I’m not sure I am worthy enough to enter past its gates.” Cheypzhut sighed, throwing his arms to his sides. ”Iron in the blood.”

[ThatFunkyBunch 2818]

Somewhere, upon the fields on endless war, A mali’ker wonders if he knew the uruk swinging a mace at his head. Only to wake up the next day, realizing he never actually finished the thought. 

[Dragonslayerelf 654]

17 minutes ago, MinaGobbler said:

a Rex that united the orcish clans under his banner

Shakul’Gorkil gets jealous of this guy stepping on his ancestral domain, then remembers he’s better known for his smithing than anything else.

[ThatDutchFellow 1147]

Al-Uk’Shrogo frowns a bit at news sighing at another fallen Orcish brother he swiftly remembers the time he roared ‘WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH’ with the Orc hed give it a chuckle before letting out

 

“Mey Luara guyde lat LOP LUARA LOP TALMINDI” 

 

 

 

[prolo04 31]

“Brainboila....Eyeboila...Skalpboila. Brainboila, alwayz a hozh fella’ bakk in Agorka’z patrolz, made lite of everytin’. ‘t wazza joy tu laff agh klomp widdim...

Eyeboila...**** – bu’ we wuz frendz befo’ we wuzzin’t. Den we met eechoddar betta’ agh he wuz...nub a hozh bruddah, at leezt in mi peepur. Bu’ he wuz nub dizhonorabl az mi peep’d him...he wuz a jurk, yub...bu’

‘e wuz honorabbl, mabeh a bi’ krool.

Zkalpboila...wub a lejang. Mi remembaz findin’ awt he wuz Rex...he wuz zo yung, mi kuld nub beleev eet. Bu’ zoon did wi bekom’ frendz, agh he wuz azh o’ da hozhezt urukz mi evah met. Nuff blah’d.”

 

Ramohk would, for once, smile reminiscing of his memories with the Boila boys. Yes, he was not fond of Eyeboila but he learned a lot from him – unexpectedly more than from anyone else.

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

Spoiler

 

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Glottgut stood alongside Leydluk and Morkar, witness to the ascension of Skalp’Raguk. He had not met the orc, but he recognized a legendary redskin when he saw it. 

 

”Welkum, brother. Lat had brought death and destruction tuh lats enemiez, an’ dat has brought lat respekt tuh da realms uv da spiritz. But most ov all, lat has put latz name down intuh da hiztory ub Raguk. Join uz, in da eternal service ub da Pantheon.”

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