TEN TOES DOWN
Written by Zteehl’Raguk an’ Imp’Raguk upon 7th of the Sun’s Smile, 1732
I. KOWARDZ FLEE
II. DA HORN BLOWZ
“Da bozz zat ‘iz fat AZZ on da toe-lickah frone!” -Unnamed Raguk, 1732
The might of Mokh-Uruk was preparing for war. Slaves toiled over the fields as whips would crack without mercy. Uruks, goblins, and ologs would all klomp one another in preparation. A typical day as the battle loomed overhead. However, a curious scout set out for Vintas, and would report an unusual amount of Vintasians to the Targoth. Leydluk would not have it stay so. With a beat of the war-drums, a small force would be called. Szaka, the scout himself, Aki’Raguk, an olog with a penchant for war, and Ugrad’Lur, the mighty Wargoth of Clan Lur had followed the call of the drums. These three would be sent to infiltrate the city and cause havoc. A larger force was sent to watch the roads for any Orenian rallies; but none would come.
Entering the city was easy enough. Ugrad had entered before Aki and Szaka, probing the walls and eventually entering the gatehouse. With the gate open, Aki and Szaka would enter through an alternate route, much to Ugrad’s chagrin. A crowd of eight would stand before them, thrown into shock by Aki’s thundering charge, and three immediately fled the scene. The five left would stand still, paralyzed with fear. They stood their ground for a second; but when Aki and Szaka neared, they would flee from the gates just opened by Ugrad.
They would give chase to the fleeing five Vintasians. One fell by Szaka’s blade, while Ugrad’s Lur wolf ripped and tore another. Aki crushed a third, but would stay back as he was too slow to keep up, content with the current spoils. But for Szaka and Ugrad, the hunt would continue. Not long after, Ugrad and Szaka struck down the fourth runner, but decided to leave one alive to tell the horrible tale. With the city now deserted and rid of defenders, and the inhabitants hiding in their homes in fear, Leydluk marched into the city and sat down on the Vintasian throne. Not fit for a duke or a king, but for a Targoth.
DA HORN BLOWZ
Two captured raiders are executed by firing squad; a tradition of Leydluk’s rexdoms
After a night of drinking to their recent victory, many orks had fallen alseep in a drunken stupor. Coincidentally, six men hailing from the Empire would enter the city, blades drawn and armor donned. It was clear they would not leave without bloodshed. But an astute Nazark’Gorkil would ring the bell, and John the Mad, the only man mad enough to have orks as friends, blew their warhorn. Immediately the city would spring to life, and in quick succession, Aki’Raguk turned the great winches of the gates. It would slam shut, before the trespassers could leave.
Those in Mokh-Uruk leapt at the chance to defend from a raid; a prospect nearly unheard for those who hailed from Krugmar. The attackers, in desperation, would claw at the gates, as if a spirit or heathen God they believed in would take pity on them for entering the city and underestimating the orks. No respite or pity would come, as sixteen surrounded the raiders. Upon Leydluk’s order, they would charge at them with rabid fervor. But as vicious they were, they were equal parts disciplined. Two would be left alive; the apparent leader, and follower.
The klomp pit was filled with cheers and spectators. The two captives were thrown onto the ground before Eath’Lur would force them to look up at the line of orks. A mix of bows and crossbows, drawn and pointed straight at them. Leydluk simply stood to the side, his gaze unbreaking upon the two men. The captives would scream and shout, yelling of their own rank, but Leydluk cared not. Upon his command, arrows and bolts flew at the men. Just as quickly as Leydluk had given the order, the captives were dead, turned into pincushions and firing practice.
“ANG GUND GRIISH.”