Ferox Legio

-- The First Trial -- The winds swept through the lush, empty valley. Angbad looked over the assembled Orcs before him. Moktra’Gorkil, the one whom he had found first. To her left stood Urolem and Doktar Dom who fought loyally beside him on his march to the Fringe. Jarkor Lur stalked behind them standing at attention with his massive steel tipped hunting spear. Beside him was Gorza and Orug Gorkil, the two other members of his own clan. And then there were the two Rax. Erok and Klo’Emp. The two were very reclusive and stood in the back, their bronze short-swords hanging lax against their hips. This was Angbad’s war party and this is what the prophecy at his birth had foretold, a return. The Warband moved forth from the Temple, first striking out at the current Orcish encampment. Angbad yelled and shouted as his warriors filed in and before him stood one of the many responsible for the crumbling War Nation, Boghat’Gorkil. Urolem and Doktar grabbed him while Angbad spoke and soon fighting broke out. The Orcs put him down quickly leaving him with a faint breath of life to deliver their message of culling. Then the Warband moved forth, Erok and Klo’Emp stalking the flanks as they marched. The Ferox Warband reached Vekaro where they encountered a group of humans who spoke in a strange dialect. As negotiations for tribute broke down the sound of steel clanging against steel raged through the city. The Orcs rose victorious, several human heads being erected on pikes within the city. They filed out with iron and many other spoils filling their bound sacks of leather. Soon after this though a larger human party sallied out and ambushed the Orcish party. While they barely escaped with their lives, the Orcs lost most of their loot that they had gained in Vekaro. Angbad returned to the Orcish Encampment and together they licked their wounds, watching the other Orcs move about in their strange new traditions.

An Excerpt from the Journals of Monk Bolton of the Cloud Temple Circa. 1411 Had it been the exit of Mogroka’Gorkil from the Orcish seat of power that ruined the Orcs? Or perhaps it was the devastating loss to the Dwarves as Asulon came to a close? Some say that the last nail was jammed into the coffin with Vrogak’Gorkil’s sudden exodus that resulted in the collapse of the Orcish government. Whatever the reason, many agree that the Orcs are no longer what they once were. Now the Orcs claw at the heels at the likes of the High Elves, an enemy that once feared them beyond any sort of reason. They struggle to even stay afloat as the great descendant races flee Anthos. The uncertainty that faces the Orcs now heading into a new land is unnerving, even to us monks. Asulon - The Rex’s Palace, Strigzgoi - 1374 “PUSH! PUSH GARAHK!” Gromgok stood over his mate, watching the birth-mother urge his mate onward. He smirked as he watched her push knowing that she was too strong to cry out. She simply breathed heavily, grunting every once and awhile to signal that she was ok. Gromgok watched with interest remembering what he had heard the night before Garahk’s water broke. He couldn’t help but think about it now as he watched the birth-mother pull his son, Angbad, from Garahk’s womb. Gromgok had went to sleep early that night knowing that he would not get much sleep after the birth of his cub. As he drifted off into his slumber Gromgok couldn’t help but wonder what would become of his cub in the future. It was then that the oasis appeared before him while a hooded figure stood by the glassy water holding nothing but her wooden staff. She turned to Gromgok and immediately he recognized that she was much older than even his father. Her bony finger shook as she pointed it at him and then down to the sands beneath him. Gromgok felt himself beginning to drown beneath the sands and he heard terrible screams of agony, ones he did not recognize. However he quickly came to realize that he had never heard them before because they were Orc screams. He woke again to see fire, shadowy figures short in stature rushing a large fortress high above them. He watched as figures of green and yellow cascaded down from the fortress only to be destroyed by the shadowy figures. Soon he was in the desert again. A massive city on platforms behind him. He watched as an Orc who wore nothing but his own crown walked out into the sea never to return. Gromgok turned to see the city behind him turn to ash and the bones of dead Orcs piled even higher than the clouds. Overtaken by the sight, Gromgok dropped to his knees and shouted to the spirits, “Why have you brought me here!? What are you showing me!?” Gromgok heard the feorc’s voice and soon she appeared before him. A strange and unfamiliar land now presented itself to Gromgok and he was alone with the feorc. She spoke to him now, pressing her staff against his temple. “Gromgok. I have shown you the fate of the Orcs. There is nothing you can do to reverse this great cataclysm. The process has already been set in motion by forces which no Orc could ever possibly comprehend or control. Your son will be their savior, but only after the cataclysm has already occurred and the Orcs are on the brink of complete and utter collapse. He will find a Dom, a Rax, and a Lur -” The feorc pauses suddenly with Gromgok watching as the world around them begins to crumble. The screams of Orcish death and fiery destruction return. “Only through bloodshed will there be salvation. Krug demands blood and blood he shall receive. The cataclysm is already beginning. When your son is of age, sending him off to the desert and tell him never to return. Not until he has found the others.” Suddenly Gromgok feels another figure behind him. He turns to see what is clearly a dwarf holding a heavy war axe above his head. Gromgok tries to strike back but cannot feeling powerless as he looks up at his soon to be murderer. As the dwarf brings down the axe, Gromgok wakes up. His bed is soaked with his own sweat and he is cold. Eight years later Gromgok, no longer Rex of the War Uzg after Gorgul’Gorkil succeeded the throne, stood solemnly over his son Angbad. He patted him on the head and handed him two things: His own war axe; razor sharp and made from Shurr’dru bones. And his jabbernak, Turge. Gromgok watched him go knowing what he had just done. The former Rex and wise farseer had ordered his son never to return to the War Uzg. He instructed him to find the other three Orcs and then wait until the rest of the Orcs were ready. Angbad had asked him, “Popo, why can I not return and save the Orcs before this terrible thing occurs?” Gromgok only shook his head and turned Angbad, pointing toward the desert unable to say or look at him. Soon after Angbad had been sent home, Gromgok returned to the War Uzg. On the one year anniversary of Angbad’s departure, Gromgok dropped dead and soon the series of events that set in motion the Great Cataclysm began. The Orcs would die.