The Last Ork Standing [PK]

[Javert 9615]

 

THE LAST ORK

STANDING

 

 

---

GRUGMAK WAS FAR PAST HIS PRIME. He had known this for years now. His days of glory ended with the Second Great Aevosi War. Though a decorated veteran and proven leader in his own right, Grugmak was not content to idle as he started to grow old. He continued to push his body to the limits, never denying himself the combat he constantly sought both in his youth and now older age.

 

And so when the bells of Lurakhan rang, calling the warriors of the Horde to arms, Grugmak did not hesitate. He sprung from where he sat, grabbed his arms and armor, and joined with the forces of the Horde. Despite expecting nothing more than bloodthirsty bandits who knew nothing of proper war, what Grugmak and his comrades instead found was an army - disciplined, war-ready, and with no shortage of a desire for blood. The banners of Drusco flew high, and not long after the Horde’s arrival did battle commence.

 

Grugmak’s comrades, many unprepared for the harshness of true battle, fell quickly. Picked off by the superior fighting strength of the Druscan men. One by one did they fall until Grugmak and whatever survivors remained fell back to the gates of nearby Lotharia. The Imperials pursued, cutting down who remained until Grugmak was able to turn about and shut the gate in the upper levels of Lotharia. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Grugmak noticed the Imperials beginning to withdraw from the City. Yet, Grugmak would not cower. He would not deny himself battle, so he drew forth his warbow and fired down upon the Imperials.

 

Arrows were exchanged for many minutes until eventually one Druscan soldier came upon the gate, sword in hand. He challenged Grugmak to a duel, and the Orc, though tired and past his prime, would not refuse. The pair fought fiercely, trading blows with one another until eventually the Imperial found a weakness in Grugmak’s armor and exploited it.

 

The Orc tumbled to the ground clutching his wound as his sword clanged down the steps away from him. The Imperial stood over him, sword high, waiting to deliver the killing blow. Grugmak shut his eye, muttered a prayer, and then once more looked to his soon-to-be killer.

 

“Give mi a hozh flattin’, Emperiul.”

 

---

 

[Metamancy 1763]

A BITTER WIND BLEW.

 

Uzgk'Grizh, the Blood of the Earth, knelt in the soil, a wilted flower in his hands. 

He gingerly placed the dead plant in the dirt and covered it, returning it to the earth.

 

VULKHAN. GROMMASH. And now, GRUGMAK.

 

The ork should have been vengeful. Spiteful. The bloodlust should have overcome him, and he should have marched back to Krugistan, ready to destroy all who had wronged his brethren.

 

Yet strangely, he was at peace.

 

Uzgk'Grizh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and gazed upon the world, the wind biting at his skin. He looked upon the trees, the sun, the lake.

 

And it was beautiful.

 

"Goodbye, Grugmak."

 

 

[Narthok 10416]

 

 

Thrall, his charred stump still torturing him looks down at the corpse of the storied Uruk warrior. Next to him the daughter of Grugmak wept. To lose a warrior to enemies was hard enough. But to lose them to allies. A grim reminder of the burden of command.

 

As the young Urukine kub wept by the cold corpse of her father the Rex turned to the waiting shamans, fire in his eyes. "Prepare him for the ancestors" the maimed Rex murmured cold and low.

[confusedjester 812]

The kub, daughter of Grugmak, stared at the corpse of her father.

 

Murt stood beside Thrall as she murmured denials under her breath,

 

"When he comes back, Murt has much to tell."

"Nub.. come back.. ever?"

 

A reply. Quiet, from the elder.

"He is with the ancestors."

 

A drawl of silence from Murt.

 

"...But Murt is still here."

 

"Murt still lives."

 

"But popo left Murt. Murt still here."

"Come back for Murt, nub?"

 

He wouldnt. Murt hadnt known the last journey, the initiation trek she had undergone with Grugmak and the REX, would be their last together. Murt hadnt known, that the last thing her father wouldve said to her was, 

 

"Murzush'Mak, Daughtur ov Grugmak."

 

A legacy then bestowed, one Murt would make him proud with. 

 

She just thought.. he would've been there to see it.