Old Stuff I Wrote

[Boomzerang 509]

Just wanted to put together this forum post of stuff I wrote a while ago relating to the server but for whatever reason never did. A couple of them are from when I lead the orcs, others are just bits and bobs that I decided to write them. I know most people won't end up reading them, but for those that do hopefully it gives you guys some inspiration. Might update this in the future, probably won't. Enjoy.

A MISSIVE TO HUMAN NATIONS

Spoiler

The time has come, cousin descendants, for us to band together again as one - as brothers, as our ancestors so long ago were. Presently, we look unto the children of Malinor, and what do we see? We see men - full grown, mature men, hiding behind human factions in fear of our onslaught - not facing us in even numbers, but in hordes, outnumbering us five to one. And I say the time has come! The time has come for this menace to be removed from Atlas - they have stated, distant cousins, many times that they wish for all children of Malin to band together under one banner. The power this offers them is immense, and a threat to all nations, large and small. Against mass rallies like those they may achieve, we are weak when alone - but together, we are strong.

 

    I beg, cousins, cast your minds to our attack on the Elven meatshields - the Reiters. We decimated their men, and yet, we see a lack of Elven aid. Where were the children of Malin, pray tell, when the Orenian Empire wiped the Urukish kin to the brink of extinction? I will tell you, cousins; Hiding in the sidelines, observing with their ever-watchful, treacherous eyes. Only now, when they outnumber us so, are they willing to come to the front lines - even so, they do it unwillingly - honour is not something that runs in this race’s blood, like the Uruks. It is not something that runs through their minds, like yourselves and the Dwed. No, honour is something, to them, that runs in gutters. That runs in sewage systems. That runs not through their blood, but through their piss. I ask you, are these the people you want in power on this Isle of Atlas?

 

    The Urukish history is not one that correlates well with Human history - indeed, many times has each side attacked each other. But that is irrelevant now that we are presented with one, common enemy. The time has come, not that we hold daggers at each others’ throats, but that we lock arms together against the Elven menace!

 

UNTITLED REXDOM PIECE

Spoiler

Akrûkul’Lur stepped into the city that was now under his command with open arms, breathing in the smoky, dry savannah air that he had so many times before; But now, it seemed novel. Revitalising. As much of a nuisance as it had made itself in recent years, he felt as he did when he first stepped inside the walls of San’Azgak

 

At once, he began plans for a meeting, bringing himself to the front of all orcs that would lend him their ears. He had them sit, cross-legged in front of his throne of the original throne-room, now repurposed into a war-room.

“Brothers. Sisters. Honoraries, slaves - All who are present!” He boomed, his voice resounding from the walls of the room, whose table had been flipped onto its side and shifted to one of the room’s edges, to allow for more space.

“As you may know, our previous Rex has conferred her power unto me. A bub-hosh Rex she was, but it seems that the pressure of looming war caused her to crack. This is not a sign of weakness. Indeed, many of the weak would have succumbed to the pressure long before they, too, began to crack.”

One fist crashed down upon the armchair of his makeshift throne.

“But regardless of how she led, one thing is certain; She doesn't anymore. The responsibility has been conferred to me. And let one thing be known.”

He drew forth a long knife from his belt with his right hand, placing its grip between his teeth. The same hand that drew it would rise to meet the knife’s blade, as he slowly trailed his hand along its edge, slicing a deep gash into his palm. He raised the open hand high above his head, its palm facing the crowd. He now stood from his throne.

“I swear upon Krug, and all of my ancestors after him, that my blood, and each of my bones to the very marrow will act only as servants of the people of Krugmar. I will lead not according to myself, but according to the people. I will fight to the bitter end, not in the name of some farcical ideal of power, but in the name of our glorious nation!

LȖP-KRUG! LȖP-ILZGUL!”

 

With this, he squeezed his fist tight, forcing the blood that once only trickled from the wound to come down in a great shower, over himself and his throne.

 

A PACT OF BLOOD, A BID FOR CHANGE

Spoiler

Akrûkil’Lur emerged from his home, ushering his final guest from it. He stepped out into the dusty, smoke-ridden air of San’Azgak, and rallied together whatever orcs would heed his words.

 

He raised his right hand high above his head, palm facing the small crowd that had gathered. Upon it were two newly healed scars, running the width of his hand. He began to speak.

    “Brothers - It is not with pride that I come to lat this day, but in bub’hosh despair. For I had hoped we would reach this point, but in recent times, I have come to gruk that we are not under a Rexdom that serves its people, but a Rexdom that serves the interest of its highest elites.

    “This came to my attention when I, along with a paltry group of your brothers and sisters, were rallied. We were headed for Norland. We were not told why this was the case - only that we were not there to klomp.

    “Upon our arrival at Norland, we began moving almost immediately - down the winding paths that cross this uzg, in a mass of bub’hosh numbers. Still, we knew not where we were headed.

    “At last, we landed at the gates of Helena, where we were met by the Helenites’ own armed rally. We simply stood at the sidelines as two humans that meant little to me bickered and discussed their business - it was here that I began questioning why we had been summoned at all.

    “Another armed group of humans arrived soon after, standing behind us with their weapons drawn. I had grown tired of waiting, and did not trust the sharas to hold their zult arms steady, so I called for the arguing pair to solve their problems as men do - in an honor klomp. Having done so, I turned and stood aside, so that I would not come between a klomp that was not mine to aid nor hinder.

    “But your Rex was not content with this. She stood her ground and urged me and our unarmed brothers that had come with her to follow suit, into a position that put their lives at stake. It seemed her grukking was not only to bring us into a possible klomp unarmed, but rather to have us act as muscle, intimidation - I felt no greater shame than when I grukked that I was being treated as a Norlandic lapdog, only there to bolster their rally.

    “So I spoke out against this hideous behaviour - I asked Noka, ‘Well, Rex - are you just going to make your people stand there, in a fight between pink-skins? Go on, order my brothers to get out of there!’
    “I received no response. 

    “Instead, almost as if on cue, when the Norlanders began dropping their weapons, as they were ordered to by the Helenites, she tucked her tail between her legs and at last stated that we uruks were to leave, in tow of the Norlandic rally.

“And this is but one mention of our Rex bending over backwards to accommodate for our so-called allies, and leaving us to ponder over our worries ourselves - lest we forget that she allowed a pair of Renelians to muscle their way into our bub’hosh goi, and capture one of our long-forgotten honoraries - a past shomo, at that!
    “So I present a question to you, brothers. Do you believe this is a Rex destined to serve our best interest, and keep Uruk blood from spilling meaninglessly, as it so often has in the past? One that obeys and forms not her own opinions, but simply acts upon those of others?
    “Well, brothers - I asked your Wargoths myself before coming here before you, and these scars mark the answers that I received.”

 

 

---

 

 

At once, he squeezed his hand into a tight fist, forcing the once feelby closed scars to reopen, as blood began trickling down his wrist and onto his forearm.
    “In these veins now runs the blood of CLAN LAK - whose now past Wargoth was taken captive by the dwarves and held at ransom - a ransom that your Rex refused to pay, leading to him being ironcast by the Dwed. His son now stands with me, in a bloodpact against the Rex.

    “In these veins now runs the blood of CLAN GORKIL - their past Wargoth’s life was used as a mere pawn in the negotiations of war, the most heinous of all transgressions, as this Wargoth was indeed also Targoth, and the nation’s soldiers looked to him as a font of inspiration. His passion was the greatest of all, brothers, as he too joined us in our pact.”

    “Above all, brothers, in these veins runs the blood KRUG, as it always has - the blood that we all share! I urge you to stand up against the pinkskin Rex, against her betrayal of her own blood!”

    “So do not forget her transgressions, brothers!
    “She allowed the Renelians to come and capture our citizens in our own home.

    “She refused to pay off the paltry ransom on the past Wargoth of Lak’s life.

    “She rallied us with the Norlanders, and risked that our brothers’ blood be spilled to Orenian blades.

    “She used her loyal subordinates as mere pawns in the game of war.”

 

 

---

 

Akrûkil then raised his other hand - a miserable surrogate of what was once a limb of bone and flesh, now reduced to a steel gauntlet, opening his arms wide as he bellowed into the air.

    “So spread the word, brothers and sisters! Spread the word to your friends, your enemies, to all the nations of Arcas. Tell those who support me to raise their fists in my honor, and those who oppose me to raise their voices in dissent! And most importantly, ensure that it carries with it my message:
    “I do not challenge your Huntsgoth, for I do not wish to take his place
    “I do not challenge your Dominus, for I do not wish to take hers.
    “I do not challenge your Targoth, for I do not wish to take his either.
    “I challenge you, Rex Noka of Clan Lur, for your transgressions against the Warnation of Krugmar, its people, and its clans. Your actions have shown you to be an abomination to Krug Himself - a twisted betrayal of the blood that runs in your veins. Let it be known that from this day, I will fight for the title of Rex tooth and nail, until my cold body lies beneath the hot earth of our savannah.
    “You may stand against myself alone in this challenge, Noka - but I ask you - dare you stand against the might and will of the Warnation of Krugmar?
    “I await your response with bated breath, and boiling blood.”

With that, he’d dismiss those that had stayed and heard his speech, retiring once more to his abode as he lay in wait for a response.

 

A RUNT IS PUT DOWN

Spoiler

The dusk wind blew bitter cold in the northern forests of Arcas, howling as it forced its way between branches and rocks. The silence was broken only by fearful whinnies from Johnstown’s stables.

 

Prudencio had returned from a patrol along the roads, having succeeded in making yet another denizen see the light of GOD. He chuckled, looking to his comrades and discussing their journey when he heard their horses’ cries.
 

* * * 

 

The same Prudencio, in the later hours of the day, gathered together those liaising in the tavern, and began his speech.

 

“Comrades, let me tell you of the coward, Casey Kingsman! I had only arrived in town with Asher and Ellir, and as we made our way to the stables, we saw the craven with his grubby, weakling hands wrapped around one of our finest steed’s necks! He was trying to kill our HOLY mounts!

 

“Let me tell you, comrades, when we saw this, we were blinded in fury! Comrade Asher drew his crossbow immediately, and aimed it at his neck - but it seemed this was not needed, as the very beast he was attempting to slay beat him back. But this was not enough of a punishment - no, no!

 

“Comrade Asher, he pulled the trigger anyway, and as his bolt struck clean through the craven’s neck, his final words were ‘All hail the great nation of Norland!’. You hear that, comrades? A coward, and a traitor! After he fell to the ground cold, it was but a case of slicing through the remainders of his neck - and now his head stands proudly upon a pike along our path!”

 

He pointed off to the dried remains of the traitor’s head.

 

“And there it is, comrades - let it be known that all traitors to the Hounds of Johnstown will meet their end at our hands, and under the eyes and judgement of GOD!”

 

With that, he’d disperse the crowd he’d gathered, allowing them to return to their alehouse activities.