Orcish Legend: The Dawn in the Darkness

[Boomzerang 509]

Uruk-Hai Ghashanuz | Aanash Bûrzum-ishi

Orcish Legend | The Dawn in the Darkness

 

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In the days of Axios, before Atlas, or Arcas, or Almaris which came after, there was a great plague that overcame the world. Waves of undead poured forth from the abyss, and overthrew a great human fortress, Bastion, on the isle of Tahn. The undead soon tainted the land about them, and it seemed all was lost for those people that resided nearby. Indeed, it seemed all was lost for the island itself.

 

    As the undead swept their territory out, corrupting the very land upon which they stood into their own twisted soil, the residents of the lands were powerless to stop them; indeed, even after having evacuated to regain strength and returning en masse to overthrow their usurpers, they were unable to reclaim the lands that were once theirs.

 

    And yet, throughout this chaos, throughout the destruction and uncertainty that the undead abominations had sown, there was one nation that did not buckle. They did not fear the undead for what they were, but rather resented them. These were our brothers, our sisters, our forefathers which sallied forth to clash with the undead forces.

 

For many years did the skirmishes between these forces endure. Orcish lives were thrown into the frontlines, many believing that they may not return to their home - but all knowing that if they did not, their sacrifice would have not been in vain, for with them they would drag down dozens of the rotting scum that poured fort from Bastion. Fruitless battles continued, until the rise of one uruk.

 

Throughout the years, many details of the tale have been lost and added. More still have been reforged into bastardizations of what they once were. And yet, one detail remains the same.

 

It is said that the turning point of the war had been caused by a single uruk. His name has been lost to time, unfortunately - all we have are descriptions. Skin a dark crimson, hair a raven black, tusks well-formed and the fires of Skathach roaring behind his eyes. His presence alone made the heavens split, and great rays of light to shine down on the urukish legions, and his actions remain bored into the minds of those who saw him.

 

The orc rode forth into battle. Not upon the back of a horse, nor a wolf, nor even a rhino, like the Braduks of old did. Indeed, this orc charged forth upon the back of a mythical scorpion from days long past; a scaddernak. Its plating was said to glimmer like the gold that so pains the undead, and it thrashed with such force that with each swing of its great pincers, swathes of undead collapsed and were still.

 

The great orc that was mounted on this beast of legends was not lifeless either - indeed, as the animal decimated the undead forces, its master launched dozens of great golden obelisks, granted by the powerful spirit Schorthuz himself, toward the ever-advancing soldiers that came to replenish the front lines. Some impaled the slower of the horrors, others simply buried themselves into the accursed soil below.

 

Those monstrosities that were not immediately struck down by the obelisks were soon disintegrated as they attempted to push past them, their very beings crumbling to ash and being wished away by the frigid winds that howled about them. These forced the undead to rear back, and to revere and be humbled in the shining glory of what some uruks believed to be the spirit of Krug himself, manifested.

 

The identity of the orc, however, remained irrelevant and unknown. More important was the effect of his glorious actions, which roused the courage of the brothers that surrounded him. As if new life had been breathed into their weary souls, the uruks of the front lines roared in unison and together forced the undead back from whence they came, too terror-stricken by the urukish forces to act bar turning tail and returning to the realm of Iblees, where they undoubtedly originated.

 

As the last of the ghouls was cut down, the uruk was said to ride after them into the abyss, perhaps in pursuit of further glory, or to ensure that no portal the likes of this one was opened again. No matter, however - the uruk, and his fabled golden scaddernak were never again seen, nor was an undead force of the scale of that which overthrew Bastion.

 

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OOC: A quick legend I wrote about the fall of Bastion back in Axios from an orc’s perspective (obviously). I’m going to be moving towards an author of some sort with my orc, so expect more mythos-oriented stuff in the future.

[Panashea 2644]

Big ups to boom for writing about probably one of few larger orcish events in "recent" times.   Orcs need more legends!