Casualties of hate

[higgsyy 104]

Roars can be heard from the blistering deserts to the calm concrete jungles of cities. On the outskirts of Strigzgoi, a mound of wood with a small figure on top can be seen. Mokrag, is seen standing beside it. Kudo, his pet, best friend and companion, had been killed. Mokrag stands next to the motionless figure, holding his smallest golok in one hand, and a torch in the other. He stands there, waiting for any other of his closest battle brothers to arrive. Word, had no doubt spread.

It was the day before, when she was killed. Mokrag was tracking two whitewashes in dwarven lands. The cold chill of snow bit at is exposed neck and triceps. He wondered, with his companion. Needless to say, he was ambushed by the whitewashes, and multiple humans in matching armour. Who were the others? Bounty hunters there to reap the prize? Perhaps soldiers of the Mageshields, sworn enemies of the aged fat brute. A fight insued, and before he knew it, Kudo had been caputred. He chased the cowards fleeing the scene. He arrived at a small stone fort. He ran in, hammer and spear in hand. He slayed one, with a swift thrust of a spear to the chest. Letting go, he ripped his golok from its sheathe, smashing his hammer into another. Five remained, the two whitewashes, an elf and the rest quick spawns. Kuods neck was slit, and she drowned in her own blood. Mokrag watched. He approached slowly, taking his helmet off. The elf rushed him, but was cut down with a thrown golok to the face. The other humans rushed foward also, but were crushed by the hammer. Mokrag's fighting strength was above 100%. Only something like this, could trigger such a rage.

He mutilated, the whitewashes. Hanging one with their own guts, and suffocating the other with their own skin. He dropped to his knees infront of the bird, roaring in pain. Some say it could be heard throughout Asulon. Such a roar, would deafen those who were weak.

Now, Mokrag stood over the mangled body of his best friend, preparing to burn it. She would go the way orcs do. He waited a little longer, to see if anyone would show up.

((If you wanna post being at the burning, do it.

[Ghazkull'Braduk 25]

*Ghazkull stands by his brother, placing an arm on his shoulder, watching his pet wolf Zugul whimper as he just lost a close friend*

[Ned Lud 1260]

Ned Lud'Gorkil trots up to the pyre, mounted upon Bagha. He releases his grip on her mane and slogs over the side, stirring the dust and ash as he lands on the ground. Largatauga swoops in from the edge of the wilds and lands on the skull pauldron of his right shoulder, adjusting its feet and letting out a single hoot. The warrior shaman grunts and nods, stamping his staff into the sand as he watches over the ceremony.

[Kickstarted and Running 965]

Oggluk limps over to the pyre, leaning on his staff, and peers under his mask

His leg has an infected gash on it he probably won't survive, but he cares little

He bows his head and mutters something under his breath in respect to the fallen comrade and pet of the fat Uruk brother of his

[higgsyy 104]

Mokrag sighs, placing his smallest golok on the burning mound. He then lights the fire, and watches his companion of over 80 years, go the way the orcs do.

[steelersfan1221 300]

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