Child Rearing

[Blawharag 277]

~~This is another story commissioned by Mogroka to put lore behind various parts of Orc Culture. The last one I did was about Lifemating. This story is significantly longer (part of the reason it took so long for me to finish) and picks up where the lifemating story left off (since I found childrearing to be the inevitable sequel to lifemating, unless you are, you know, infertile or something :wink: ). In my follow up post you will find a less lengthy basic description of child rearing practices for lore's sake.~~

[Blawharag 277]

The babe was kicking and screaming as it came into the world. Mira looked on it with fierce pride. "He shall be Roktar, after his Grandfather the Conqueror." Mira declared proudly. Mira was a fit an lean Orc with well defined muscles, even still she was less physically impressive as she would have liked. The pregnancy had been taxing on her and she was glad to finally have her child. While pregnant she could not go to battle, for fear of losing two Orcs rather than one. Deep inside she was relieved for the chance to experience battle once more. In the here and now, however, she was focused on her new born child.

"He has the scream of a great warrior, Mira, he will put many foes into the earth before he joined him." Kilgres was the oldest of the Clan Grandmothers, and rare was it that her predictions did not prove true. Mira favored the Grandmother with a smile, though it was silly for Kilgres to imply there was any other destiny for Roktar, son of Karthun. "He will host a strong gathering of friends, and fight a legendary duel. He will see brothers depart and never know that they would return again. He shall die in the flames of battle, his honor whispered throughout all of Krugmar." The old crone liked to ramble. More so, she liked to speak in metaphors and riddles. Many suspected that she knew the exact nature of all her predictions, down to the time and day they would occur and every insignificant detail of how they played out. Yet for someone who liked to talk so much, she managed to say very little. "The Grandmothers will not raise this child. You are lifemates with Karthun, you will raise the child yourself. He is part of you and you belong to Karthun. He is part of Karthun and Karthun belongs to you. So this child belongs to you both and it is your duty to raise it."

This had all been explained to Mira before, the crone thought it necessary to repeat it though. In days past, it was tradition for children to be reared by the Grandmothers of the Clans their father was a part of. They would be considered a son of all that clan, not just their father or mother. Mira and Karthun were the first lifemates to have a child, however (Karthun had impregnated Mira on the day they became the first lifemates in Orcish history. Even the Warlord was impressed by the gall of the newly formed pair which flaunted their exclusive union in front of all the arena spectators). The Grandmothers had decided that it was only appropriate for those that mate exclusively together to raise their spawn exclusively together. Nonetheless they would still be expected to follow Orcish rearing practices, the Grandmothers at least promised to help with that much.

"Since Karthun is away at war, you will have to raise the child until he returns. Keep him strong, he is without deformities but if you are not careful in raising him he will grow weak and frail." Finally Kilgres had something useful to say, "Watch for signs of what his strengths will be. If he is bulky, build upon his brutish strength, if he is intelligent, teach him to think." The Grandmothers had never shared their rearing techniques with anyone as young as Mira. Mira was 27 and had already had several children before Roktar, but never had she raised any. The Grandmother never had need to teach anyone outside of new Grandmothers how to raise young. Kilgres spoke of trials and tests, proper training techniques for the young, even how to tell when the babe would need nursing and when it needed fresh air. Mira remember some form her own childhood, but she was still very unprepared. When Kilgres was finished, she made to leave, muttering as she went out, "Be happy that we do not still adhere to the old ways child. Did you know some barbaric tribes in the early years would take newborns and put them in ring with a scorpion? It was the ultimate culling of the weak."

Mira gave respectful farewells as Kilgres hobbled out, but her face turned from polite to mocking the instant she was out of sight. Mira did not believe her horror story for a second. No one will throw you into any pit with a scorpion any time soon child. Mira promised Roktar in silence, But in time, you will bring down pain on your foes such that no scorpion could ever muster. Mira went and placed the babe in its crib. The birthing tent they were in was a large roomy one, so that all who wished to see the newest clan member born could. None had witnessed this birth though, as much of the clan's warbands were fighting the latest uprising of elves following the Orcish invasion into their homeland. Mira sighed, longing to be a part of that battle was written over her face. Instead she had to be contempt here. She made her way over towards the center of the room where a large, well stuffed bed awaited her. Within the birthing tent there were three beds; a crib for the baby, a basic bed with no sheets and virtually no bedding which the baby was birthed in, and finally a large well stuffed bed.

In any other situation the Grandmother who helped bring the child into the world would remain in the tent with it through the first night before they moved the child in with the crones. This night however, Mira would be staying with her own child. She was not accustomed to the extravagantly comfortable bed. Only the crones slept on such beds, while most Orcs spent most of their lives living on less adorned bunks and bed rolls (especially the warriors such as Mira who rarely were in one place for very long). It is for precisely this reason Mira chose to sleep on the bed rather than the ground where she might have been more at home. Mira did not wish to sleep well this night, afraid that some silent death would come and take her child while the mother slept. She would sleep lightly if at all this night, and perhaps for many nights to come. Mira had never raised a child before, but she found herself caring too much for this one, the one she had created with Karthun her Lifemate, to risk losing it.

~~~

Roktar went through his rudiments obediently as his father stood to the side and barked at his mistakes. Roktar’s mother, Mira, had only just taught him these rudiments yesterday, but his parents were determined to have Roktar master them before the day’s end. Over and over again axe rose and fell, all while the sun baked down on his head and Karthun chastised him for every mistake. Sweat clung to Roktar so heavily that you might think the child had just gone swimming. Yet Roktar was determined not to let his father know he was growing tired. Certainly, if Roktar asked for a break he would likely receive it. He had been working since dawn and the shadows had long since gone short and were beginning to grow again. Nonetheless Roktar was determined to make his father proud. He would not give in, not before Karthun bid him to take a break. He would be a great warrior some day, just like his father and mother before him.

Most importantly, he would be a formidable sight at his lessons tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the first day that he and the other children would be coming together to train with one another. The other children had already had some lessons with each other, being that they were all raised by the Grandmothers of the tribe together. Roktar had been raised by his parents and had far less interaction with his peers. The Grandmothers determined that he would participate in the clan wide lessons however, so that he may develop a bond with the Orcs he would day be dying next to. Neither Roktar nor his parents were interested in surrendering an Orc-child that was anything less than top of the class. This was as much as a test as it was a learning experience for Roktar. If Roktar did well, than it was proof that Orcs other than the Grandmothers could properly raise their blood and that Lifemates would continue to raise the children they spawned. If Roktar failed, it would reflect poorly upon Lifemates in general and more importantly, Mira and Karthun. I won’t let you down father, I will make you proud mother. Tomorrow I will impress even the Grandmothers with my prowess! I will be the greatest warrior-child they have ever known. Roktar got so caught up in his thoughts that he let his mind wander away from the wooden axe in his hand. As if to scorn him for the thoughts his father could not hear, the axe cracked against Roktar’s leg, leaving a small gash where it reprimanded him.

“Pay attention boy! If that had been an Iron axe you would be in want of a leg right now!” Karthun’s stern words hurt Roktar more than the training axe. “The greatest weapon in the world is worthless without a good head to wield it!” Roktar felt his cheeks grow warm as he raised his weapon to try again, this time determined to remain focused. “No that’s quite enough, boy. Come and sit by me, your next lesson will be one you must pay attention to. Paying attention to this one is worth more than just a lost leg in the battlefield.” Obediently, Roktar went and sat in the sand at his father’s feet. They were deep into the desert, not even in sight of their hut. Roktar often spent his morning exercises with a run into the desert and another back to “cool down” after a hard day of work.

“Tomorrow you will be with your family Roktar. The children you train beside will be with you until the day you die in glorious combat. Some of them will be older and more practiced than you, others will not be worth half of what you are. Yet one day, the ancestors will place you all on the same battlefield. Together you will fight, together you will make your stand, and together you will live… or die.” Karthun paused at this, as the words sunk into Roktar’s head. “It is important that no matter what, you give these Orcs your respect and honor. They must be to you as brothers, and nothing less. Yes, you will have your fights, your squabbles and perhaps one day you will even fight one for honor in the arena, to the death. However, they must always and forever be thick as blood with you. The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them.” The words echoed in Roktar’s mind. He absorbed them and pondered them as his father spoke again, “Come, that is enough training for today, you will have plenty of it tomorrow. For now let’s go home and await your mother. She should be returning from the hunt at the same time as us.”

The Next morning found Roktar awake and meditating calmly outside the hut. He could not speak with the ancestors like the shaman, but he could imagine what they were saying. Roktar fancied the ancestors were watching him with great interest. Today all that he learned in his first five years of life would either prove effective, or condemn the child to walk the desert, alone. The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them. His father’s words still echoed through Roktar’s head. Would he die alone too? He had three years. If in three years he was not found to be an acceptable Orc than he would be cast into the desert. The practice was a final test for eight year old Orcs to prove their worth. Eight was the coming of age for Orcs, and if they did not prove themselves worthy and capable of contributing to the strength of their clan and their Warnation, they would be cast out into the desert and made to find their own way back. Most died, those that returned proved they were self sufficient and could at least live without burdening the Orcish nation. The Orcs had no taste for those that would only hold back their power and made no exceptions. Not even for Roktar, Lifemateson. Suddenly Roktar’s mother, Mira, was beside him. He did not know when she had arrived, but she must have stalked in silently and joined him in his meditation while he was too lost in thought to notice.

“The ancestors speak of your turmoil child. You fear you will not be accepted.” Mira was no shaman to be sure, yet she had some affinity for sensing the spirits and ancestors concerning those closest to her. The connection had made it impossible for Roktar to hide his feelings from her, to the point where he stopped trying.

“Why should they mother? I am an outcast. They have already all done much training with each other, why should they accept another into their ranks? I’m nothing to them.” For a boy of his age, Roktar was a very sober individual. He was always wary of disappointing others and failing. The pressure of being one of the first Lifematesons only compounded these feelings. Yet Mira smiled warmly at the boy.

“You fear too much, child. The children have trained with one another, yes, but not to any great extent. More so, they are still Orcs. They will respect strength and honor where they see it. Rise and prove yourself worthy of those things, and they will befriend you just as quickly as any other. Just remember my son, Strength is the staunchest ally, and Fear the deadliest poison. Now go, you do not want to be late for the first session.” Roktar, ever obedient, stood and began making his way towards the training grounds. Now that he was to begin group training sessions, his parents would become less responsible for his daily training. His mother had gone hunting the day past to provide a store of meat that Roktar could live on, and Roktar was at least capable of trapping and feeding himself. As a result his Parents could finally both leave for battle and hunt at the same time for some period while Roktar lived alone. As if eager to jump on this opportunity, the Clan had begun raids against nearby dwarf strongholds. Karthun and Mira would be leaving together on this day to join the raids for about a month before returning. By the time Roktar returned to his hut after training that day, his parents would be gone. He dared not make farewells though. In Orc culture, saying farewell to those going off to battle was almost a taboo. It implied that you may not see them again. While that was all well and good for some wanderer or wayfaring Nomad Orc, Orcs leaving for battle were only given farewells if the enemy they sought to face were strong enough to kill them. Roktar would never insult his parents by implying that a few Dwarves hiding in a hole would slay veteran parents like his own.

Roktar was still a ways away from the Training grounds by the time he heard the sounds of grunts and clangs from Orcs training. Roktar knew he was not late though, the Orcs who had reached adulthood often chose to train much earlier in the morning than what was appropriate for growing children. Often times they would begin training at the same time the moon began its decent. Other times they would train for two or three days in a row just to build endurance. Their mock battles a preparation for the day they may find themselves in some everlasting conflict or terrible siege. Children on the other hand simply began training just before the first glimpse of sun on the horizon. Though it was worth noting that in the vast open and flat desert, the sun could be seen on the horizon much sooner than in a city or landscape surrounded by mountains. In fact it was for the express purpose of making training as early as possible that training grounds were put smack dab in the middle of a vast open area.

Roktar arrived some minutes before the rest of the children. It was half an hour before sunrise when he showed, and the Grandmothers of the Clan were already there waiting. They studied Roktar as he approached but offered no word of greeting. They simply watched the boy. It was not five minutes after he arrived that more children began to appear. 15 minutes before sunrise, all the children had arrived and were ready to begin their training.

The Grandmothers immediately began drills. They ran the children through obstacle courses, gave them tests of strength and gave every child a thorough evaluation of their physical prowess. Roktar outdid all of them. He was among the first to finish in their running drills, he cleared obstacles with far less effort than his companions and when made to lift large rocks to test strength, Roktar was in the top ten. He could feel the others watching him. With envy, admiration or distaste, Roktar did not know. He never doubted that he could pass the physical fitness challenges without much issue, it’s what came next that worried him. The Team Challenges were often regarded as the easiest, albeit most important of tests held on the first day. All the children were divided into groups of four and as a team had to overcome an obstacle course that could not be completed alone. It only took two to overcome the course, but four were placed in each team. Those who left partners behind were noted for having poor commitment to their brothers. More than that, those that were left behind were seen as outcasts of the group and weak, easy targets.

The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them. The words echoed in Roktar’s head as the Grandmothers called out the names in each team. “Gohrr, Brok, Roktar and Kierra. You shall be first.” Roktar glanced at his teammates. Brok was a large child, far stronger than any other one here. He had lifted the largest rock in the physical fitness challenge, a stone so large it was probably better described as a boulder than a rock. Kierra had out ran Roktar, and had proven to be one of the most agile and deft of his comrades. It was Gohrr who really interested Roktar however. Gohrr had outdone Roktar in many of the challenges, and was almost constantly staring Roktar down. Whenever Roktar looked, he caught Gohrr’s eyes upon him, staring intensely. Like Roktar, Gohrr had done well in all the challenges and bore a wide scar on the side of his face where he must have been smacked by some blunt object. His eyes were mean fiery coals that seared Roktar as they stared. It took Roktar no more than an hour to begin fearing Gohrr and grow uncomfortable by his presence. Did the Grandmothers see this too? Do they intend to have Gohrr shame me in the challenge? Perhaps I will be outdone by Kierra and Brok so that I may look weak, then Gohrr will leave me behind. Doubt plagued Roktar I must not let it happen, I must prove I am strong.

When the time came for them to begin the Grandmother reminded each of them that their progression through the challenge would be timed as well as how many of their team made it through. The teams all made preparations and soon after Roktar found himself crouched and ready to run at the start with Gohrr to his right and Kierra to his left. While Kierra, Roktar and Gohrr were all prepared to run, Brok stood patiently on the far side of Kierra, with a blasé look about him. Roktar shot him a questioning look, and Kierra must have noticed. “Pay attention to what’s ahead of you fool, and perhaps you will answer your own question.” Roktar looked ahead and saw a long stretch of land ending in a wall. It was a speed and agility segment, and as strong as Brok was, he was slow and heavy. It would be Kierra to reach that wall first, with Gohrr and Roktar close behind her, Kierra would reach the top of the wall before them all and help the rest over. By the time Gohrr and Roktar had gotten up, Brok would have reached them without expending his energy running. As though reading his thoughts, Kierra spoke again “Now you understand. Know this: keep your eyes open and think about each challenge if you want to succeed, do not simply stare about like some big eyed buffoon. I will not let bring this team down because you couldn’t use your head.” Her tone was harsh, but strangely it reminded Roktar of his parents. Often they would instruct him with harsh tones and harsher regimes, but it was always done with the intention of making him stronger. Roktar hoped this meant he had finally made a friend, in his delight he casually turned his head to the right and found to fiery eyes boring into his skull. Gohrr watched with the same look he had been wearing since sunrise. Though Roktar still did not know if it was a look of interest, or disgust.

When the Grandmothers shouted for them to begin, Roktar and Kierra shot out of the start like two hares running from an invisible fox. When Roktar looked for Gohrr, he noticed the Orc to be some was behind him, putting far less effort into the sprint than he was capable of. Roktar remembered Gohrr running alongside him in the speed challenge matching Roktar’s every pace. Now he held back, but why? Perhaps it’s not him holding back, but me striving harder that much at least couldn’t be denied. Roktar was pushing himself much harder than he thought was possible, certainly more than the effort he had put into the speed challenge. His efforts were paying off as he found himself keeping just behind Kierra. When they reached the wall, both began scrambling up to reach the top. The wall was roughly 10 meters high, not a huge obstacle but enough to break a bone and kick you from the challenge if you fell. Kierra, a better climber than Roktar, was almost to the top by the time Roktar was halfway up. She danced from foothold to foothold and climbed hand over hand making it look as though it were no more difficult than climbed. She was doing so well that Roktar didn’t notice at first that she was getting bigger. Suddenly Roktar realized that a stone had slipped lose and somehow Kierra had lost her footing. She was spiraling towards the ground, head first. Without waiting for his mind to understand what was happening, Roktar’s hand flashed out and snatched Kierra as she fell past. Kierra was a slender and light youth, the opposite of Brok in many regards, and was easy enough for Roktar to catch. Even still Roktar felt his balance waver and for a moment he feared that he too would fall. In an instant however Kierra regained her footing and pressed Roktar back towards the wall to stabilize him. Together they made their way to the top of the wall without so much as a word to each other. When they reached the top, they grabbed ropes which had been left there and lowered them to Brok, who was just arriving at the wall base. Gohrr reached the top as they did so and together the three of them hoisted Brok up the wall.

Together the team jumped off the opposite side of the wall and into a pool of water. When they rose from the water they stood face to face with their next challenge: A wooden portcullis had been lowered and atop it laid the boulder Brok had lifted earlier. “They put in place the largest stone any of our party could lift.” Kierra explained “This way the strongest must lift the weight of the stone, while another lifts the weight of the portcullis. No less than two are required to get through here.” Brok and Gohrr made their way to the obstacle wordlessly and lifted. Kierra dashed under, but when Roktar approached Brok stepped out onto the other side. As the weight of the Portcullis began to crush Gohrr, Roktar rushed to help support it. Even still the weight was almost too heavy, quickly the pair rolled out onto the far side before the portcullis slammed shut behind them. Roktar glared angrily at Brok and was ready to shout at the brute before he noticed Gohrr’s stare. Silently the Orc watched him with that same look. Roktar shifted under his gaze and felt as though it were him that was being questioned, not Brok. Brok merely grunted and continued forward, Kierra falling in step behind him. Gohrr stood and watched Roktar patiently, only moving after Roktar himself and begun to follow Brok.

The team continued through the challenges without much difficulty. Some were puzzles which Gohrr showed himself to be adept at, still without saying a word, he communicated orders to his teammates and together they defeated each puzzle in short order. Their team was made up of some of the most physically fit children at the training session and found no issues in the physical challenges they encountered. Before long they found themselves standing at the final obstacle. The challenge was rather basic: Four tunnels stretched out before them. Each member picked their own tunnel and proceeded through. At the end they each met a gate, a switch, and a window. The gate was opened by another’s tunnel and the window showed a team member in their tunnel standing outside their own gate which was activated by your switch. While you could see the teammate whose gate your switch opened, they could not see you. So was it that Roktar found himself staring through the window at Brok. Brok had flipped his switch the moment he arrived at the gate, never even bothering to look through his window. Shortly thereafter Roktar saw his switch flick open. I am lucky, Kierra must have gotten my switch. Roktar quickly realized that he could continue on to the other side. They would never know it was me who left Brok behind, the child mused to himself, and it would serve him right for trying to leave me stranded on the other side of that portcullis. Roktar held the thought for a moment but suddenly a voice lept into his head unbidden The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them. Suddenly Roktar knew he could not leave his brother behind. Whatever Brok did before, he made for a better ally than enemy. He was as much Roktar’s brother as any other child there. Roktar hit the switch and walked through the gate to meet his team on the other side.

When he made it out, he saw Kierra and Gohrr waiting for him. “Thanks for hitting my switch.” Roktar commented to Kierra, but it was Gohrr who responded,

“You’re welcome, now where’s Brok?” It was the first Roktar had heard from Gohrr, his voice was gruff even for a child. He spoke punctually and briefly and his fire red eyes never left Roktar’s.

“Right here.” Brok lumbered out from the darkness of his tunnel, “The runt let me through after all.” Gohrr nodded his satisfaction at Brok and Kierra met Roktar with a gaze and a half smile, choosing to abandoned her harsh and prickly nature for once. Roktar simply stared in shock.

“How did you know I was the one who controlled Brok’s switch?” Kierra answered.

“We scouted out the tunnels last night. The Grandmothers set up the tunnels a day in advanced, but most don’t bother finding out which switch leads to which gate. Gohrr had me sneak in and figure it out last night so that we could make sure you controlled Brok’s gate.” Roktar looked to Gohrr, but the Orc offered no response. Instead Brok spoke up,

“Gohrr knew we would be stuck with you Runt, so he wanted to make sure you were dedicated to the team. The best teams stick together even after the challenge. The Grandmothers pick them off a lot of things, not just what you’re good at.” Disbelief was written all over Roktar’s face and comprehension dawned on him.

“Kierra didn’t slip on that wall, you told her to fall. You wanted to see if I would catch her. You held back in case I didn’t so you could catch her instead. Then at the portcullis, after you knew I would save you from being crushed, you told Brok to leave you under the gate so that I would get angry at him. Then you set it up so that I would have to decide whether or not to let Brok through. It was all a test, but why?”

Gohrr’s answer was brief, but said everything, “To see if you were a friend.” The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them. It was then that everything was clear for Roktar. He wasn’t the only one here looking to build brotherhoods. Every Orc here was trying to become close to their team. Every child was learning to establish a relationship with another, to make a friend. That’s why the team challenges were so important.

From that day forward, Roktar found Kierra, Brok and even Gohrr to always be at his side during the training days. Together they fought, trained, learned and grew together. When a child became frustrated by Kierra’s deft dodging of his blows in a practice duel, he called in two friends hold her down while he smacked her. Brok, ever protective of his friends, smashed the heads of the two friends together, earning each a concussion while Roktar beat the dishonor out of the child who broke the terms of the practice session. By the time the Grandmothers called for a stop to the ruckus, all three children were beaten bloody and Kierra had no more than a bruise. The Grandmothers had harsh words for the children who broke the code of honor and a month later the children apologized.

When Roktar found himself consistently losing duels to another child by the name of Mog, it was Kierra who stayed with him well after sundown. Mog could sling blows at speeds far faster than Roktar could parry them and Roktar would buckle under Mog’s vicious assault. His extra training with Kierra paid off though, when next he trained with Mog, he dodged whatever he did not parry and took Mog down with a strong blow to the rib cage.

In training sessions that required group efforts, Gohrr showed stunning leadership and strategy. He gave orders to Kierra, Brok and Roktar that were so clever the opponents would be disarmed and forced into surrendering before any child had even been harmed. Together, the group was nearly unstoppable. They were as thick as blood and Roktar found himself deftly loyal to all of them. Soon enough the children reached the age of eight, manhood. The final stages of their childhood training were set in place to prepare them for the wars they would be fighting alongside experienced veterans. It was in these final days that tragedy struck.

Each child was given one final task, to see if they had overcome the weaknesses they showed when first they started their training. The Grandmothers gave Roktar a test of friendship, in which he had to go and befriend 4 other children (not including Gohrr, Kierra and Brok) in which they would be so loyal to Roktar that they would be willing to fail their own tests to aid him. Mog was the first to jump to Roktar’s side, followed by Jeg, Rak and Gorgoth, the three children which had ganged up on Kierra long ago. Kierra was given a test of strength, which she had prepared for with the aid of Brok. After his training, she was able to lift the same boulder Brok had lifted when he first began the test, still an impressive size even after they had aged and reached adulthood. Brok was given a puzzle of the mind, a moderately complicated challenge that required a good memory and reasoning. Gohrr had schooled Brok for hours to teach him different techniques and strategies to overcome all that were given to him. Finally, it was Gohrr’s turn. For as close as the four were, none knew what weakness Gohrr could possible possess. He was smart, strong and all around one of the best students here. But the when the Grandmothers turned their gaze upon Gohrr, Roktar saw fear on his friends face for the first time.

“Gohrr, you task will be the hardest of them all to overcome. You are the greatest student here, but if you fail, make no mistake. You will be cast out into the desert.” Immediately Roktar shared Gohrr’s fear. It was not all that uncommon for children to fail this final test. Usually, however, it merely meant some extra training before they were permitted to join battles. Children were only cast out into the desert if they reached adulthood and were still too weak to join the Orcs. Those cast out had to find their way through the desert and survive to return before they would be accepted into Orc society. Those that failed died in the desert. It was said that the desert is the harshest of environments, and those with weakness had to overcome it to survive. It was the ultimate form of eliminating the weak from Orc society.

When they saw Gohrr led to an arena and given a sharp iron sword, Kierra, Brok and Roktar breathed a sigh of relief. Gohrr was one of the greatest fighters of anyone who had trained with them. He was known to clash his wooden sword with the wooden axes of his opponents and disarm them moments into the battle. Neither party so much as suffered a bruise. When the gates opened and a human staggered into the light, laughter erupted from the spectators. The human looked to be some farmer who had been so bold as to try and farm Orc lands. He was given a choice of weapon and he snatched up an iron axe, but clearly had no idea how to wield it. As the crowd laughed and jeered Roktar looked down to see Gohrr wasn’t smiling. He face was a mask and he stared down on the human with the same look he had given to Roktar many moons ago. No sooner had the Grandmothers called for the match to begin then did Gohrr flick his blade and send the humans ax flying from his hand. All held their breath to see Gohrr finish the human, but the strike never came. Even the human seemed confused that he was not dead yet. The human scrambled to go and pick up his ax and charged Gohrr again. Again Gohrr knocked aside the weapon and had an opportunity to destroy the human. Again, the strike never came. The human was now thoroughly confused and did not even bother going for his weapon again. The crowd had gone silent and the Grandmothers finally spoke. “If you cannot kill, you cannot fight. This is an honorable duel and the human knows that he must die here. He has accepted his fate, even if you have not Gohrr. How can you wage war if you cannot even bring yourself to shed your opponent’s blood?” There it was, Gohrr’s great weakness. He could not bear to harm another creature. The crowd was stunned, they did not know what to make of this Orc. A being who had once been the idol of many, now was a useless being. Kierra stood up and shouted in protest,

“Gohrr is a great Orc! Even if he cannot kill, he can lead! Those he commands will kill for him!” Before anyone could react, Kierra’s bow was in her hands and she had loosed a shaft down at the human. The arrow killed him instantly, piecing his neck, and Gohrr looked away as the body fell limp at his feet. Again the Grandmothers spoke

“Even our greatest leaders must be able to shed blood eventually. There will be a time when he must defend those that he leads. When he must kill or watch his comrade die. We cannot have an Orc who would let that happen. Gohrr, you are cast into the desert to survive or die as Krug sees fit. Leave us now.” So it was done. Gohrr turned and walked out of the arena. It was if Roktar was in a daze. Everything became hazy and he was vaguely aware of someone shouting out Gohrr’s name. Soon enough Roktar realized it was he who was shouting for Gohrr, and he who was running after his friend. Not just him alone, but Kierra and Brok as well. When finally the caught up with Gohrr he stood on the edge of the wasteland. He had dropped everything behind him as he walked. His weapon, his food and even his clothing were left behind. Only Gohrr would go into that desert, Gohrr and his weakness. Together they would die, or alone Gohrr would return. Despite his brutish nature, Brok was the first to find tears in his eye. Kierra made to protest, but Gohrr’s gaze silenced her.

After a moment, Brok said a good bye and gave Gohrr a strong headbutt. Kierra repeated the gesture and then both looked to Roktar. Roktar was speechless, what should he do? What should he say? It was Gohrr who got him where he was today. Gohrr who gave Roktar his first friends, Gohrr who gave their team leadership, Gohrr who was always solving their problems for them. Now it was Gohrr who stared at Roktar once again. That same look and same fiery eyes that burned into Roktar’s soul, waiting patiently for Roktar to speak. Roktar found he had only one thing to say,

“The dead died alone, boy. Make a friend or join them.”

[Blawharag 277]

Holy wall of text batman!

~~In other news: Children are raised by the clan grandmothers, except for those spawned from lifemating. Those ones are reared by the parents. At roughly age 5 they begin group training sessions which occur daily until the reach adulthood, age 8. All are trained in combat and are additionally given profession training as is needed (for example the clan has dire need of smiths so one or two children receive more smith training than combat training, maybe a third receives a light level of smith training).

If at age 8 the child is too weak to become part of Orc society, they are cast out into the desert. If they die, so be it. If they survive and return to the Orcs, they prove they have overcome their weakness and are strong enough to live with the Orcs.

Only lifemate parents are taken into consideration as mother's and fathers. Those born under parents who were not lifemates do not concern themselves with who their parents are and mostly look to the clan Grandmothers as their parents. Those being reared by the Grandmothers will occasionally train together but for the most part only know each other from outside training. The children to spend time running around playing with one another, even the lifemate children. Roktar from the story above is an exception to this rule because his parents trained him more diligently and relentlessly in order to prove that lifemates can raise children properly to be strong proud Orcs.~~

Any comments, suggestions and Grammar Nazi attacks are well received and appreciated. I enjoy making my stories better whether that means putting in an extra comma or adapting my writing style to include important techniques such as "Show, don't tell".

[Gunnar 5]

Well done. I didn't read it but something that long has to be good. Also i do plan to read it.

[Alex_Pan 112]

You're gonna need 5 clan grandmothers for my children.

[Durzio 29]

wow this is excellent. i much enjoyed it.

also very informative. which is good for me haha

[char615 41]

I thought Krug and gahla were the first lifemates, it says so in the tale of Dom.

[Urahra 5777]

They were not necessarily the first lifemates. But they were lifemates.

(Also, I like how we're both using Shadowclan names in our story. Incoming stories about Zulataani, Velgamog, and Muglun.)

[moondoggy 27]

((maybe on new map will be the nephew of yahgy. Yahgy's mother survived after her husbands death to find other mates and have other children. all of which become addicted to lapis. mom why you so drugged out? i can start the map by being Yahgy's sister he never knew and i'll mate with an orc making my new character. much important scientific research on goblin-orc child rearing can be learned :P))

[Jarkarll 314]

((maybe on new map will be the nephew of yahgy. Yahgy's mother survived after her husbands death to find other mates and have other children. all of which become addicted to lapis. mom why you so drugged out? i can start the map by being Yahgy's sister he never knew and i'll mate with an orc making my new character. much important scientific research on goblin-orc child rearing can be learned :P))

[Danny 2232]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.