Gorrak's Story

[Phog 150]

((I wrote this lore up for my new Orc character Gorrak. I hope you like it.))

Part I

The sound of the thunder boomed throughout the secluded desert canyon. The flashes from lightning danced upon the canyon walls while the wind howled like a banshee. Deep in one of the many caves of the canyon, a new life was being brought into the world. Inside this cave were two Orcs. One Orc was a hulking beast, standing at over 8 feet tall with dark green skin that almost seemed pitch black in the darkness of the cave. This Orc was known as Gorang throughout the War Uzg. Gorang was an older Orc and was considered wise by many of his peers. He had come to Asulon aboard the great War Ship many years ago, and had just recently taken the time to choose a mate.

The other Orc lay atop a small bed of furs and pelts. This Orc was smaller in stature and muscle. Her skin was slightly lighter than Gorang’s, but still dark compared to most Orcs. This Feorc was known as Jirin. Jirin had also come to Asulon aboard the great ship of the Warnation, though she had barely been older than a cub at the time. Jirin took it as an honor that an Orc as old and wise as Gorang would want to take her as a mate.

Jirin lay atop the furs as she cried out in agony. She knew that as she grew closer to birth, she also grew closer to death. Gorang looked at Jirin with no emotion on his face. Instead, a stern calmness seemed to take hold of him. Gorang watched as Jirin gave her life to bring a new one into the world. As the cub finally came into the world, Jirin took her last breath and smiled knowing that she had completed her duty to her race by bringing a cub into the world that would no doubt one day become a great warrior. It seemed almost too coincidental that just as Jirin passed into the next life, the storm began to clear away.

Gorang picked the newly born cub off of the bed of furs. The cub cried incessantly as Gorang slowly reached for his large skinning knife. Gorang slowly drew the knife and made a small cut across his own chest. As his dark red life blood dripped down his chest, Gorang took his finger a smeared a small line of blood across the newborn cub’s face. After staring into the cub’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity, Goran finally spoke, “Ug small ash. Lat will bi bubhosh brudda ash day. Lat will klomp a bubhosh numbah ob ‘umies agh stouts agh twiggies befo’ lat flat. Mi will call lat Gorrak.” After speaking, Gorang put the newly christened Gorrak into a small pack on his back as he walked out of the dark cave being sure not to disturb the body of Jirin.

Gorang made the journey back to his tent farther up the canyon walls. The tent was a simple one made out of a patchwork of colored wools and furs, but it was the place that Gorang, and eventually Gorrak, called home. Gorang now took the time to really examine his new cub. He set Gorrak on the bed of furs inside the tent and examined every feature of his cub’s body. Gorrak was born with dark green skin that was almost black in color. His eyes were a dull red color, just as his father’s were. Gorrak had a small tusk on each side of his mouth that stood vertically. After examining for many minutes, Gorang came to a conclusion. “Lat iz bubosh,” Gorang decided as he wrapped a small loincloth around the lower body of Gorrak. Gorang then laid down on the bed of furs and slowly drifted into a restless sleep.

Part II

Gorrak grew up in near isolation; though his father would have some “bruddas” come to his canyon on certain occasions to hunt or raid. His father provided for his cub by hunting most of what they needed, but a small raid into Elven or Human territory was occasionally necessary. Gorrak would be left alone for long periods of time while his father was away hunting. Gorrak would spend this time wandering about the canyon hunting small animals with his bow or practicing his axe skills on a dummy. The only time Gorrak left his canyon home was when his father went on campaign with the Krughai.

Gorang was called upon by the Krughai many times throughout Gorrak’s adolescence. Gorang would always allow Gorrak to accompany him. Gorrak would stay with his father at the great war camps of the Krughai. Gorrak learned the art of Orcish war while on these campaigns with his father. Gorrak spent his days in the camps learning the finer parts of wielding an axe. He also spent many an hour with the shamans of the camp, learning how to honor his ancestors and the great history of the Orcish people.

Gorrak enjoyed these few times with his father, but his favorite part of campaigning were the battles. Gorrak would watch as his father and the other warriors readied themselves for the coming battles. The cries of “Glozag Votar!” would ring out in the camp as the Orcs began their marches. Gorrak would follow behind the great columns of the War Horde and watch the battles that unfolded. Gorrak watched in awe as the Rex would order the Orcs to charge forward with reckless abandon. He watched as the Orcs tore the pathetic humans limb from limb and struck down all that came in their way. Gorrak was awed that no matter what the odds were, the Orcs tenacity always seemed to succeed. They always seemed to be able to pull victory from the jaws of defeat. Gorrak took these lessons to heart. From that time onward, Gorrak knew what it meant to be an Orc. It meant that he had to uphold the honor of his people. Gorrak made a silent promise to himself to always do this. He vowed to never give up, no matter the situation, to always fight his hardest and most brutally, and to always honor his name as well as the name of his “bruddas”.

Part III

Gorang was growing older every day and he knew it. He could feel it in his bones as they ached and creaked. He could also feel it when he swung his axe, it seemed that his swing was growing slower and slower lately. Gorang knew what he had to do. He would die with honor, just as all of his ancestors had. At the time, Gorrak was the age of 14 just coming into his own as an Orc. One day Gorang began to gather his hunting supplies for the last time. Gorang had chosen the optimal day to go for a hunt. The sun was shining high above the sweltering sands of the desert, and not a cloud in the sky could be seen.

Before leaving, Gorang spoke to Gorrak for the last time. Goran said to Gorrak, “Mi iz gettin’ old. It iz time fo’ mi tu bi flat. But mi nub want lat tu bi sad. Mi want lat tu go intu the desert agh live ther unti’ lat iz dubty ages. Gruk? Then lat will bi ah true Uruk.”

Gorrak looked to his father and with no emotion and replied, “Mi understand. Mi nub sad fo’ lat. Lat lived ah bubhosh life agh lat bi flat wif honor.”

Gorang nodded and replied, “Gug’ye. Lat was ah bubhosh cub.” After saying this Gorang slung his back over his shoulder and walked out of the tent. though Gorrak never saw his father again, he knew that however he died, it was an honorable death to be certain.

Gorrak sat in his tent for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few moments. At last he decided what he would do. He would do what his father wanted him to. He would venture into the harsh desert and become a true “Uruk”. Gorrak took his time as he took the tent down. His dark skin perspired as he struggled to remove the poles of the tent. Though it took him an hour, Gorrak eventually succeeded in removing the tent. With the tent taken down, Gorrak gathered his other belongings and stuck them into his leather bag. He attached the poles of his father’s tent to his bag using some spare rope he found on the ground. With his belongings now ready Gorrak stood up and slung his bag over his broad shoulders. He sighed as he walked away from his home for the last time.

Gorrak walked out into the harsh desert with virtually no idea which way to go. He wandered for hours in search of any sign of civilization. He searched for what seemed like days on end, but to no avail. As the sun beat down on his tired back, Gorrak began to become weak. His steps were slowing and his back was slowly arching forward. As he tumbled face first into the hot sand, Gorrak thought of his father and the home he would never see again. As he slowly drifted into unconsciousness, Gorrak thought of the eternal dishonor he was bringing to his family by dieing like a dog in the sands.

Part IV

The water hit Gorrak’s face in a cooling wave. Gorrak slowly opened his eyes and licked his lips as the water slowly dripped down his face. He blinked as his blurry vision slowly began to clear. He could just barely make out the shape of an Orc standing above him. Gorrak looked up at the figure for a good two minutes before anyone finally spoke.

The figure spoke in a deep, old voice, “Lat iz guud?”

Gorrak looked quizzically up at the figure for a few moments before replying, “Yub. Mi iz guud now.” Gorrak coughed for a moment before continuing, “Wut happen?”

The figure spoke again, “Mi found lat is the desert. Lat waz almost flat. Lat had nub water.”

Gorrak sat up as he replied, “Rulg. Lat save mi life. Mi bi flat if not fur lat.” After speaking, he looked around his new surroundings. He realized that he was in some kind of hut. The hut was supported by large bones covered in large pelts of fur. Various skulls of animals were hung around the hut using rough pieces of rope. The hut smelled of sweat and blood, a stench not unfamiliar to Gorrak. Gorrak then noticed his leather bag sitting in the corner of the dark hut. Gorrak slowly tried to stand up from the hard ground he was laying on, but became light headed when he tried to take a step forward. As he stepped forward, he would have fallen back to the floor if not for the old Orc catching him.

“Lat needz rest. Sit,” ordered the Orc. “It will take time fur lat tu git better. Lat can live with mi while lat iz getting bettur. Mi iz called Torbuk. Mi waz ah bubhosh warrior many ages past, but now mi iz ah farmer. Mi prefuh da fields tu da battlefield now. Lat shuud go back tu sleepz. Lat need rezt.” Gorrak examined the Orc as he spoke. He noticed the Orc’s light green skin dotted with scars from battles past. Torbuk stood at around 7 and a half feet, but was obviously much taller earlier in his life. Though more muscular than the average human, he looked rather weak for an Orc. Torbuk had a look on his face that could only be described as a permanent melancholy. He had obviously seen too much pain and suffering in his life and it was now taking a toll on his body.

Gorrak laid his head back on the bed of furs. As he did so he murmured again “Rulg.” He looked up at Torbuk one last time before drifting off to sleep.

Part V

The next month of Gorrak’s life seemed to fly by. His strength returned to him bit by bit, piece by piece. Evey day he could walk a little farther, every day he could raise his axe a bit higher. Eventually, once Gorrak had gotten almost of his strength back, Torbuk out Gorrak to work in the huge wheat fields on his land. Gorrak worked most days from sun up to sun down. The work wasn’t particularly hard or taxing, but Gorrak grew strong from it. He repeated this for weeks on end, growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

One day after working in the fields for Torbuk, Gorrak shuffled into the hut as he always did. He sat down on the hard floor of the hut as he awaited the return of Torbuk. As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to many months ago when he heard Torbuk say something of his time as a warrior. Gorrak remembered this and decided that he would make it a point to speak with Torbuk about it later that evening.

Torbuk walked into the hut not fifteen minutes after Gorrak had gotten his idea. As torbuk walked in, Gorrak said “Oi. Lat waz bubhosh warrior once. ‘ow lat du eet? ‘ow waz lat a bubhosh warrior?”

Torbuk looked down at Garrok for a few moments before speaking, “‘ow mi du eet? Eet waz eazy. Mi wurk ‘ard every day. That is why mi iz so strong agh bubhosh.”

Gorrak considered Torbuk’s reply before speaking, “Mi want tu bi bubhosh warrior dub. Can lat teech mi?”

Torbuk chuckled, “Yub. Mi could teech lat. But eet won’t bi eazy. Mi will make lat wurk ‘ard. Bi da time mi iz finish with lat, lat will bi bubhosh fighter.”

Gorrak smiled at Torbuk’s reply, “Mi iz ‘appy tu ‘ear dat.” Gorrak then proceeded to pull out a small piece of raw meat and scarf it down. After eating, Gorrak laid down on the floor and fell into a restless sleep. He was almost too excited to start his lessons with Torbuk.

Gorrak spent the next 6 years of his life under the watchful eye of Torbuk. Over these years, Torbuk taught Gorrak many valuable skills. These skills included fighting with an axe, basic survival, use of a shield in battle, and a small amount of farming. Though these were important skills that Gorrak would use many times, these skills were nothing compared to the values that Torbuk instilled in the young Orc. Torbuk instilled many of the same values in Gorrak that his father Gorang did. The principles of honor, courage, bravery, and ferocity in battle were once again instilled in Gorrak. Everyday Gorrak was reminded to live his life according to these values. He learned how these values applied to the whole Orcish people, not just an individual or family.

Gorrak knew his time with torbuk was drawing to a close. He knew he was close to reaching “dubty” years and his self exile in the desert would soon be over. To prepare for his return to civilization, Gorrak gathered his belongings from his hut and prepared the same leather sack he had used when leaving his father’s campsite. With his things packed, Gorrak looked to find Torbuk to tell him a final farewell. Gorrak found Torbuk in the fields. He walked up slowly and spoke out, “Rulg fer what lat ‘as done. Lat ‘as taught mi guud. But now mi must leev lat. Mi must go back tu da othur Orcs. Mi iz ah real Uruk now.”

Torbuk looked into Gorrak eyes and sadly nodded, “Nub. Rulg lat. Lat gave mi somethin tu do.” Torrbuk chuckled now as he embraced Gorrak in a mighty hug. “Lat must honor lats family. Lat must klomp all da enemies ob da War Uzg befur lat iz flat. Mi know lat can do eet. Befur lat iz gone, mi need tu give lat somethin’.” Torbuk rummaged around in his rucksack before pulling out something draped in cloth. torbuk removed the cloth to reveal an axe. Gorrak recognized the axe immediately; it was Torbuk’s axe from the great Dwarvern wars so many ages ago. The axe in and of itself was very beautiful. It was constructed of a dark steel with a oak wood handle. A large red skull was painted onto the side of the head of the axe, The axe menaced with a few spikes lining the tip of it’s razor sharp blade. Torbuk spoke again, “Da Lusk iz called Stowt-Cruncher.”

Gorrak spoke in awe “Lat iz givin’ dis tu mi? Rulg.” Gorrak took the axe gently so as not to put a scratch onto it.

Torbuk replied, “Yub. May lat flat many enemies wid eet. Now geet goin’. Lat need tu leave. Gug’ye.” At this Gorrak nodded in a silent reply. He turned around and walked away from Torbuk’s into his new life as an Orc making his way through the War Uzg.

[Niso 91]

This is awsome man, love the story.

[Jutra 51]

Dis bub'hosh storee. Lat am a bub'hosh writr. Me glad me hab met lat. Welcome. Me peeping forwrad tu blahing wid lat mur.

[Danny 2232]

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