AN OLD MAN’S TALE
“and four hundred years of stories.”
The empty void is all he knew. The empty void is all he saw. When the dark skies covered the earth, the moon rising high above, his eyes closed and he lived it all again.
A gopher of earth.
A owl of storms.
A snake of fire.
A horse of water.
A crane of air.
A wolf of metal.
The same creatures, the same spirits, had filled his dreams. Those who he had worshiped visited him throughout his dreams. The orc had been tortured for decades, tormented whenever he had closed eyes to rest for even just a moment. In this realm, a century passed for each second he had lived. Countless attempts ended in failure as he could not escape the fate that followed him throughout his life. He had lost count how many times he has experienced these scenes, but tonight, it was different. The orc’s eyes fell shut as he sat on the cliff sides, he was free.
The black void shattered, breaking apart to reveal a familiar scene to the orc. A grove of trees formed a wall around a small fire pit, stone seats fashioned around it. Four seats were filled, with one left open. As the fire grew brighter, pushing the darkness away, the orc’s heart stopped and tears rolled down his face, smearing the paint of war. At each seat sat a relic of the past.
The shaman, the juggernaut, the soldier, and the clown.
The orc wiped away his tears as his eyes scanned over the relics. Pain covered his scarred body, decades past his prime, he moved to join the others. As the orc sat down at the edge of the flames, he felt a release. A light flashed through as each of the six animals who watched over disappeared to join the void once again. The orc’s face broke into a smile as he felt the wind race against his body, the feeling of falling had never felt godly until now. To those that went looking, the body of the aged orc would not be found.
[!] A journal of ancient notes is found on the cliff side.
To Rusk’Dom: When all had treated me like table scraps, cast me out into the desert to suffer on my own, you had brought me in as a brother. You taught me to learn, you taught me to laugh, you taught me to live. Without you, I would have passed in that desert and become a base to another cactus. Instead, I lived to become a base to the future generations.
To Urolem’Dom: I was a stranger who was forced in front of you. You had no obligation to me, yet you showed me the path of the spirits. Through Elementalism and Lutaumancy, you trained me to act as a vessel for the years to come. Even with recent years, my connections stripped, I strived to complete your work.
To Shreck’Lak: You hated me. You beat me. You tortured me. Yet, you will always be my brother. When I meet you in the Starguzh’Strogh, I pray to the Spirits we can mend what split us apart.
To Richard Revlis: I was a dumb orc, barely able to swing a sword or shoot a bow. You made me a warrior and taught me what honor truly means. The set of armor you gave me when I had first joined Dunamis sits close, ready to put on to remind me of what loss is and how it feels to be a champion.
To John Owyn: As Dunamis had fallen and the Orcs had cast me aside, you brought me in like an old friend. Let me sit in your court and learn the ways of the humans. Experiencing a new culture and a new way of life was something I had never dreamed of. You blessed me with sympathy and compassion and a will to protect not just my own.
To a couple of Fat Old Dwarves: At a point of weakness, you brought me in. You owed me nothing but treated me like a fat ugly dwarven brother. May you and the children of Urguan who aided me live a long and wealthy life, you fat ****s.
To Fishbref: A Raguk and a Dom were never meant to see eye to eye. Yet we did. You were a brother to me Fishbref. Though you think recent actions were plotted by me, I would never cross a warrior like you. Though, I have failed you before. And for that, I ask for your forgiveness.
To Ar-Borok and Ar-Tarok: I was a blind old orc until I came across you. The fresh generation. Stubborn and stuck in my ways, you taught me to live once again. The lesson you taught is one I had experienced but forgotten. May the Spirits smile upon your reign. The Fresh Generation to continue the endless Wagh.
To Billy Bob: Enjoy life, my old friend. You and the other Llir I have made along the way carried me farther than you thought.
To any dumb idiots who peak into my journal: I have roamed the Mortal and Spiritual Realms for centuries. I may have laughed with you. I may have drank with you. I may have fought with you. In the end, you helped me write the story that is my life and for that I will be thankful. Live a life you are proud of and do not hesitate a second.