Kashgurkhûr II: Gentharuz

[AmericanSimp 510]

NAAKH-ZA-BARASH

Kashgurkhûr II: Gentharuz

 

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A lesser of Gentharuz fuelling his forges

 

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The orcish city remained empty, the streets and its people scattered about when a single putrid red skinned goblin made entry. Mekun’s eyes golden eyes glazing over the vast landscapes until his gaze evidently fell onto a half-goblin by the name of Kretz’Ox. A small introduction was spoken, before the crimson goblin gestured for Kretz to follow.

 

“What is it? That drives you to be a tinkerer within the Ox clan?”
 

“It is just something I have always been good at, since the time of being cub tearing apart and rebuilding music boxes. It has always gifted me a sense of intrigue.” Replied the Yazgurtan with a slight chuckle

Their conversation continued until the pair found themselves within the Krugmarian Forges, the flames welcoming them with a joyful wave of heat. 

 

“That is certainly one way to follow the path of a tinkerer. But, to a goblin like me the art of the forge and tinkering is a way to praise and worship Gentharuz.”

 

Mekun then placed a crucible filled to the brim with ferrum into the forge, the metal slowly beginning to take on a molten form as he looked back to Kretz. 

 

“To be in the hands of Gentharuz. Nothing would be greater than that, and that is what I dream to be in life.” 

 

“That is quite some goal to strive for,” replied the half-goblin, “But what made you realize such?”

 

“Honestly? I do not know. The forge has always been my home, and my mind always filled with an unending litter of ideas to bring to life within. Those ideas and the forge, are a gift from the Pantheon. A gift such that can only be repaid through sacrifice. . .” The goblin then retrieved a set of tongs, moving to grasp the crucible and pour the metallic liquid into a cast as he continued to speak, “. . . A living sacrifice.” 

 

Both goblins then fell silent as Mekun retrieved a small bottle of pain, various Raguk symbols making their way along his left arm and leg as allowed the metal to cool. After a few more minutes, the goblin retrieved a hammer and began to work the metal as he spoke in an Ancient Spluttertongue Canticle. 

 

“Lok! Khlaar khlaarum ob draagh kadak aanghum;

Clank

Gentharuz, udirk lâttuk draaghûr;

Clank

Brek Gentharuz äkaav ob bügd daarkhangazumûr;

Clank

Durub ob draaghûr agh daarkhangazumig!”

Clank

 

Spoiler

“Lo! Hear the sound of hammer striking forge;

Gentharuz, guides our hammers;

For Gentharuz is the father of all blacksmiths;

Leader of hammers and smithing!”

 

 

As the canticle came to an end, so did the work of Mekun as he began to paint what appeared to be an eye along the metallic mask to his front. Moments later the mask returned to the forge, its surface slowly returning to a redhot temperature before Mekun placed it atop an anvil. The Redskins digits slowly grasped the anvil's edges as he screamed toward the sky, “Praise Gentharuz! For my will is yours!” 

 

In the mind of Mekun, the next few moments seemed to last for hours though in reality it was merely a few minutes as his eyes looked to the piping hot mask before him. Doubt, worry, fear, pride, and strength filled emotions flowed within the gaze of the goblin before the silence that once filled the room faded. A deathly high pitched scream erupted from the forge as Mekun threw his face into the hot metallic mask, his mind fighting to back away but his hands forcing him to remain in place. Pain consumed the body of Mekun, his face seeming to melt away as the mask became one with the goblins face. 

 

“Oh ****….” the concerned half-goblin muttered as the scene unfolded

 

Mekun’s head then slowly rose from the surface of the anvil, the metallic surface of the mask fuming. The goblin nearly knocking on the gates of Kor as he began to speak,

 

“I…. Am no longer… Mekun… I… I am… KHLAAR-GENTHARUZ… Yeller of the Pantheon!” 

 

As the words left the maw of the goblin, the pain soon consumed him. Unconscious he lay upon the floor of the Krugmarian Forge. Reborn, into the path of a Yeller, destined to die as he began to blindly follow the path of the Pantheon of Three. 

 

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Ang Gund Griish

 

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/175562-clan-raguk-the-pantheon-of-three/

 

[Guzr 2049]

The Khlaar-Leyd offers a sacrifice to the happenings!

[BDanecker 858]

A fellow worshipper of the great Spirit of Metallurgy, a dwarf no less, gives his own form of praise in far off lands to the East!