T’was over rocky hills and muddy swamps that these heroes ventured past. These brave men, called on in murky weather by last resort, in order to come face to face with the inevitable threat upon their homelands…
It was on the last legs of their courteous venture, and many of the men’s strength had weakened because of lack of food and water supplies.. Things were looking grim.
Renkin Ironfist, son of Burnor Ironfist spots Kugar sitting by a fire, centre of the campsite whilst most sleep… Concerned about the welfare of the men, he walks over and takes a seat, then speaking in a calm soft voice to him..
“Chief Kugar…. Our men have become weak, and starved…
How do suggest we continue?…”
Staring absently into the flames, Kugar merely tilts his head with no vocal reply. His eyes narrowed and steady…
Before Kugar can speak Renkin slides closer to his leader, with a now somewhat worried expression.
“For the first time.. You have no idea, do you?…
…The great Kugar… How you outwitted my father, I will never know.
After a short pause Renkin sighs, averting his eyes from the one he came to idolise as a child, and now all he seen was a confused older man.
"Renkin..Please, calm yourself down...
So I may explain something only once to you..." Kugars voice spoke sternly, yet calm.. Authorative, yet not in the least bit arrogant or patronisng, he was honoured among his people for such a trait.
Sitting forward toward the fire, Kugar places a hand out reaching at, but never grabbing for the fire.
"As I stare into Bragons element,
I see blood...
Rein...
And, ofcourse...
The gods holy will...
"Something that I..We, must follow in order to journey the 'rightous path', Renkin... our salvation..
Nodding slowly to Renkin, Kugar turns his glance now back to the fire again, sitting quietly with an understanding, thoughtful look in his vibrant yet aged eyes.
After a short pause Renkin loudens his voice on blurting the words
"We have to go back!”His voice echoing through the medows.
As these words word said, it became apparent to few of a vast stroke of wind passing the camp… Moaning about the noise could be heard from tired voices hidden beneath pitch-tents…
((ongoing))
Path of a Champion.
Moderator: Gamemasters
It was not long now until the heroes reached their destination, and things became worse as the army that had once been built for war, began to crumble and fall. Bodies started to vanish during the night at camp, and no trace was ever found of its cause. Some were put down to wild animals, others (depending on judge of character) were just presumed to have fled the scene..
Though they where to soon realise by smoke signal and clanking metalworks, that only mere kilometres away, an orcin settlement were already sharpening their axes, and readying for battle…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Bring hum to meh…”
The orcin generals voice spewed in loud echoic roars, bouncing through the orcin settlement in a deep intimidating, powerful tone.
Two brutish orc soldiers, dressed in full solid steel armoury, then pushed past the teeth drapes doorway and into the generals quarter, dragging a kidnapped clan warrior by the hair. It was Furon Southpaw a skilled martial artist warrior, appointed the name Southpaw by his master in complimentation of his fist fighting techniques.
Thrown to the floor, this unlucky warrior lay helpless, he was, in a phrase, a lamb to the slaughter,and feeding time was long overdue...
"Hurr... Oomie..."
The orcin general arose from his throne-like, iron plastered chair, and walked heavily over to the prisoner growling, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him practically 7 foot in the air toward eye level, only again to roar in his face, to ensue further fear upon the man. Outweighing most orcs, and with his powerhouse phsyc, this was one orc that you wouldnt want to piss off...
"Tell Gurrott... Ob da oomie wib da blackfist..."
The prisoners face turned expressionless.
Though they where to soon realise by smoke signal and clanking metalworks, that only mere kilometres away, an orcin settlement were already sharpening their axes, and readying for battle…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Bring hum to meh…”
The orcin generals voice spewed in loud echoic roars, bouncing through the orcin settlement in a deep intimidating, powerful tone.
Two brutish orc soldiers, dressed in full solid steel armoury, then pushed past the teeth drapes doorway and into the generals quarter, dragging a kidnapped clan warrior by the hair. It was Furon Southpaw a skilled martial artist warrior, appointed the name Southpaw by his master in complimentation of his fist fighting techniques.
Thrown to the floor, this unlucky warrior lay helpless, he was, in a phrase, a lamb to the slaughter,and feeding time was long overdue...
"Hurr... Oomie..."
The orcin general arose from his throne-like, iron plastered chair, and walked heavily over to the prisoner growling, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him practically 7 foot in the air toward eye level, only again to roar in his face, to ensue further fear upon the man. Outweighing most orcs, and with his powerhouse phsyc, this was one orc that you wouldnt want to piss off...
"Tell Gurrott... Ob da oomie wib da blackfist..."
The prisoners face turned expressionless.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunrise, and at the camp tensions were waring thin; the warriors, dressed in barbarian attire with shield and mace, were set in a line in check of attendance, and as a general custom to ensure that all had the appropriate weaponary ready for the bloodfest that drew near.
Kugar stood before the line, eyeing each in turn with a relaxed glare. He was dressed in full-steel armory draped in thick brown animal furrs, with his famously iron moon-crest warhammer that had met many a battle before, strapped to his back. bestowed upon his head was the skull of a young dragon, to visage his importance, strength and leadership among the clan warriors.
"Where is Furon..." Kugar demanded briefly, in a cool, collective voice.
"He... He must have vanished, chief... In the night." One of the clansmen explained calmly.
Releasing a soft prolonged sigh, Kugar then simply replied "We must move on."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunrise, and at the camp tensions were waring thin; the warriors, dressed in barbarian attire with shield and mace, were set in a line in check of attendance, and as a general custom to ensure that all had the appropriate weaponary ready for the bloodfest that drew near.
Kugar stood before the line, eyeing each in turn with a relaxed glare. He was dressed in full-steel armory draped in thick brown animal furrs, with his famously iron moon-crest warhammer that had met many a battle before, strapped to his back. bestowed upon his head was the skull of a young dragon, to visage his importance, strength and leadership among the clan warriors.
"Where is Furon..." Kugar demanded briefly, in a cool, collective voice.
"He... He must have vanished, chief... In the night." One of the clansmen explained calmly.
Releasing a soft prolonged sigh, Kugar then simply replied "We must move on."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The orcin general dropped Furon to the floor, and with a devilish grin on his face, he was then to march back to his iron draped throne, to sit and glare at the man with expectation of an answer..
"I... I..." Furon whimpered.
Orcin soldiers surrounded the room, creating a jailed atmosphere. Each laughing amongst themselves and holding their weaponary ready, bearing their teeth and staring at their prisoner with bloodthrust in their eyes...
"Shuddup!...
Anymoar stuttors frum yoo, and Meh simply crush yoo in Gurrotts fist..." The general released low grunting sounds with each breath he took, each becoming louder as the tension increased.
"He will come!... And he will kill you all, you'll see!"
The young naive clansman yelled at the general with fear, yet great belief came from his words. The inevitablity of the soon to be fallen warrior knew in his mind that justice would be served, and it was this that gave him the strength of mind not to crumble with hysterity.
"Yoo believe in sum stoopid liar?... Ib yoo woulb be dis useless meh would hab killed yoo wib furst glance...
The general leaned back in his chair narrowing both eyes.
"Meh wunt to know, ib dis oomie ib da legend dat stoopids say he beh...
Why he be called, Blackfist anybays?..." The orcs began to snigger and laugh like hyenas, some throwing bones and the like at Furon as he quaked in his boots, unclear of how to compramise with the uncompramisable...
"He carries the plague in his fist..." Furnor eyes the surrounding orcs in turn with a serious glare, a short silence carries the air.
"And those who 'DARE' challenge or oppose him shall meet a grim end as he bestowes it upon them...".. Further mocking and laughter echoed the halls and quarter, the general sat shaking his head with a smug grin riddling his ogerish face...
Furon Southpaw was to never be seen, or heard from again.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I... I..." Furon whimpered.
Orcin soldiers surrounded the room, creating a jailed atmosphere. Each laughing amongst themselves and holding their weaponary ready, bearing their teeth and staring at their prisoner with bloodthrust in their eyes...
"Shuddup!...
Anymoar stuttors frum yoo, and Meh simply crush yoo in Gurrotts fist..." The general released low grunting sounds with each breath he took, each becoming louder as the tension increased.
"He will come!... And he will kill you all, you'll see!"
The young naive clansman yelled at the general with fear, yet great belief came from his words. The inevitablity of the soon to be fallen warrior knew in his mind that justice would be served, and it was this that gave him the strength of mind not to crumble with hysterity.
"Yoo believe in sum stoopid liar?... Ib yoo woulb be dis useless meh would hab killed yoo wib furst glance...
The general leaned back in his chair narrowing both eyes.
"Meh wunt to know, ib dis oomie ib da legend dat stoopids say he beh...
Why he be called, Blackfist anybays?..." The orcs began to snigger and laugh like hyenas, some throwing bones and the like at Furon as he quaked in his boots, unclear of how to compramise with the uncompramisable...
"He carries the plague in his fist..." Furnor eyes the surrounding orcs in turn with a serious glare, a short silence carries the air.
"And those who 'DARE' challenge or oppose him shall meet a grim end as he bestowes it upon them...".. Further mocking and laughter echoed the halls and quarter, the general sat shaking his head with a smug grin riddling his ogerish face...
Furon Southpaw was to never be seen, or heard from again.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gods knew when crafting our souls, that mistakes and choices were inevitable to be made; to build a world in which broken down communications lead to bloodfest, war and doom...
It was when I was presented by a faceless messanger bearing a gift. T'was an old book in which he told me lay great tales of despairity and sorrow,
though as I opened it briefly, a scripture with no precise correctness, sensability, relation or words crumbled like dust in my fingers, the messanger vanishing with it.
Perhaps this was the work of illusion or witchcraft, but it was then that I knew which path I had truelly to go down... One without remorse" ~Burnor Ironfist
It was when I was presented by a faceless messanger bearing a gift. T'was an old book in which he told me lay great tales of despairity and sorrow,
though as I opened it briefly, a scripture with no precise correctness, sensability, relation or words crumbled like dust in my fingers, the messanger vanishing with it.
Perhaps this was the work of illusion or witchcraft, but it was then that I knew which path I had truelly to go down... One without remorse" ~Burnor Ironfist
The short distance between the camp and the orcin settlement was to bring much grievance. Patience was waring thin among the men, and the thought of a victory came as a distant dream. The clamnsmen found themselves now treading in what seemed to be endless labyrinth of rock and moss, where the trees rose kilometres tall, and the smoke signals that were to lead them to their destination were vanishing from sight at a worrying speed..
As it seemed that all was lost, it was as if from nowhere that word had arrived by dove, of a group of travelling mercenaries that had heard news of a battle, and with an offer of reinforcements, a map was drawn and attached, that had the details of directions to an apparently 'safe point' somewhere close to their current location...
"Our prayers have been answered brothers!" Renkin said with a smile of relief on his face, raising the notes as he held his head, almost fainting with disbelief at that moment.
Kugar, then turning his head to face Renkin with a light frown, glanced to the man with eyes filled with quiet concern. Walking over to him slowly he began to explain 'if something is too good to be true, most of the time, it is niether good nor true....' before gesturing to the man to hand over the map and details to him.
Kugar Had lived long enough to realise that having too much trust can get you killed, and when something comes crawling from the darkness to shed some light on the situation, most of the time, it would only reveal more cracks.
"You lead us to our deaths!"
Gasps of disbelief concurred among the men, astonished as to how Renkin spoke to their leader, the man they followed and believed in. Though it was for the reason of his bloodline within the Ironfist family, and the position that his father held, that at times it seemed as though he was looked on as a kind of second in command. As it was he who was to be next in line to come of age, and strength, to battle in a challenge of combat and wits against Kugar for title of champion.
As these clansmen spoke among themselves, all eyes now lay on Renkin, some of confusion, others with a glint of anger in their stare.
"...No longer will we follow you blindly to the slaughter without the manpower needed... Too many have died Kugar, and we are suffering!"
A stroke of confussion crossed the clansmen as they then, lowering their weapons, turned to their leader with hope of an answer. An answer that would make things right..
"Renkin.. You knew the troubles that faced you from whence you came to fight for our freedom... Your father, he would have told you the same thing...
This foolish nature must stop, we waste too much time on this matter."
The atmosphere became confused, it was as if a war of words had already began, and that the outcome would interprete what came to be.
..It isnt freedom that you care for Kugar, it is blood!"
Renkin explained as he stood his ground before the men. His expression falling short of nothing but stern.
"Renkin if you leave, there is no turning back...Either what lays in these valleys will kill you, or you will die of starvation on the way....
Narrowing his eyes, Kugar glared at Renkin with an cold embracing glance.
"Walk as you may, Renkin... You have decided that you shall betray your people, and die running from battle, were as it will be I, and those that follow me on the path of rightousness that will die for that reason...
And it was with those words that Renkin Ironfist and those of the remaining clansmen that had preferations among the Ironfist name, went with him, lowering the once titan army ever more to a bundle of few lesser warriors.
As it seemed that all was lost, it was as if from nowhere that word had arrived by dove, of a group of travelling mercenaries that had heard news of a battle, and with an offer of reinforcements, a map was drawn and attached, that had the details of directions to an apparently 'safe point' somewhere close to their current location...
"Our prayers have been answered brothers!" Renkin said with a smile of relief on his face, raising the notes as he held his head, almost fainting with disbelief at that moment.
Kugar, then turning his head to face Renkin with a light frown, glanced to the man with eyes filled with quiet concern. Walking over to him slowly he began to explain 'if something is too good to be true, most of the time, it is niether good nor true....' before gesturing to the man to hand over the map and details to him.
Kugar Had lived long enough to realise that having too much trust can get you killed, and when something comes crawling from the darkness to shed some light on the situation, most of the time, it would only reveal more cracks.
"You lead us to our deaths!"
Gasps of disbelief concurred among the men, astonished as to how Renkin spoke to their leader, the man they followed and believed in. Though it was for the reason of his bloodline within the Ironfist family, and the position that his father held, that at times it seemed as though he was looked on as a kind of second in command. As it was he who was to be next in line to come of age, and strength, to battle in a challenge of combat and wits against Kugar for title of champion.
As these clansmen spoke among themselves, all eyes now lay on Renkin, some of confusion, others with a glint of anger in their stare.
"...No longer will we follow you blindly to the slaughter without the manpower needed... Too many have died Kugar, and we are suffering!"
A stroke of confussion crossed the clansmen as they then, lowering their weapons, turned to their leader with hope of an answer. An answer that would make things right..
"Renkin.. You knew the troubles that faced you from whence you came to fight for our freedom... Your father, he would have told you the same thing...
This foolish nature must stop, we waste too much time on this matter."
The atmosphere became confused, it was as if a war of words had already began, and that the outcome would interprete what came to be.
..It isnt freedom that you care for Kugar, it is blood!"
Renkin explained as he stood his ground before the men. His expression falling short of nothing but stern.
"Renkin if you leave, there is no turning back...Either what lays in these valleys will kill you, or you will die of starvation on the way....
Narrowing his eyes, Kugar glared at Renkin with an cold embracing glance.
"Walk as you may, Renkin... You have decided that you shall betray your people, and die running from battle, were as it will be I, and those that follow me on the path of rightousness that will die for that reason...
And it was with those words that Renkin Ironfist and those of the remaining clansmen that had preferations among the Ironfist name, went with him, lowering the once titan army ever more to a bundle of few lesser warriors.
The Dragonskull clan was still approaching the orcin settlement from the south. Kugar's preparations had made the direct approach to the settlement too hazardous, yet still he continued as in his mind and heart, he truelly did believe that this was the right path. Renkin though, had made the worst decision of all: leading his group of followers to the east, inadvertantly leading them into unknown chaos, and as Kugar had predicted, a trap...
Not long after daybreak the barbarians began to move towards the Orcs. Gurrott, the orcin general was most surprised of all to hear of Kugars army finally emerge from the cover of the woods.
"Kill dehm!!!" The general roared.
As the clan warriors drew nearer they paused and knelt in prayer, the orcs themselves grabbed for their weaponary and armor, and then marched toward the settlments gate..
As the clansmen rose, with both shield and mace, Kugar is supposed to have yelled before his men: " For Malachin!!..Show these treacherous orcin scum no mercy!!"
"They shall recieve mercy, yes," one of his attendants replied, "But from the Gods, not you, or I... These orcs will conquer or die!"
One of the clans earls, Derronwey, asked his chief to hold back, his eyes lit with fear at the sight of the tens of hundreds of orcin soldiers that awaited their arrival - but Kugar simply accused him of cowardice. Angered, the earl mounted his horse and led the vanguard on a charge against the orcin spearmen, only to be killed in the first forest of bloodfest of orcin spears, along with some of the other clansmen. The very size and strength of the great orcin army was beginning to reveal, as the clansmen could not move quickly enough, and lost a lot of time in getting into position.
Kugar then committed his whole army to an inexorable bloody push into the disorganized Orcin mass, fighting side by side across a single front. A small force of archers added to the little advantage that the army were to have, firing swift arrow shots at the orcin soldiers, which was now so tightly packed that if an orc were to fall, he risked being immediately crushed underfoot or suffocated.
It was not long then, after pools of blood had been spilled, that both the clan, and the orcs, began to realise the vast loss in numbers of their own, and began to regroup. The clansmen edging back and dissapearing into the forest, in preparation for what was to be, the final leg of their battle for freedom...
Not long after daybreak the barbarians began to move towards the Orcs. Gurrott, the orcin general was most surprised of all to hear of Kugars army finally emerge from the cover of the woods.
"Kill dehm!!!" The general roared.
As the clan warriors drew nearer they paused and knelt in prayer, the orcs themselves grabbed for their weaponary and armor, and then marched toward the settlments gate..
As the clansmen rose, with both shield and mace, Kugar is supposed to have yelled before his men: " For Malachin!!..Show these treacherous orcin scum no mercy!!"
"They shall recieve mercy, yes," one of his attendants replied, "But from the Gods, not you, or I... These orcs will conquer or die!"
One of the clans earls, Derronwey, asked his chief to hold back, his eyes lit with fear at the sight of the tens of hundreds of orcin soldiers that awaited their arrival - but Kugar simply accused him of cowardice. Angered, the earl mounted his horse and led the vanguard on a charge against the orcin spearmen, only to be killed in the first forest of bloodfest of orcin spears, along with some of the other clansmen. The very size and strength of the great orcin army was beginning to reveal, as the clansmen could not move quickly enough, and lost a lot of time in getting into position.
Kugar then committed his whole army to an inexorable bloody push into the disorganized Orcin mass, fighting side by side across a single front. A small force of archers added to the little advantage that the army were to have, firing swift arrow shots at the orcin soldiers, which was now so tightly packed that if an orc were to fall, he risked being immediately crushed underfoot or suffocated.
It was not long then, after pools of blood had been spilled, that both the clan, and the orcs, began to realise the vast loss in numbers of their own, and began to regroup. The clansmen edging back and dissapearing into the forest, in preparation for what was to be, the final leg of their battle for freedom...
Bruised and bloodied, Kugar, looked over the remaining warriors in which managed to withstand the blaze, or so be it what was left of them. Across all of the men's faces where signs of sadness, anger and defeat. Though as his dull gaze wandered over his men, he knew defeat was null. The men would only die attempting to flee the madness that waited for them, or meet there demise roaming across the labyrinth that lead them there.
"This is madness! Lets us head back chief Kugar, our chance of success is obsolete, and we are all as good as DEAD!" One of the broken men cried. One after another, they all done the same, arms had been torn off, eyes ripped from their very sockets by the pounding of maces. The situation was crucial, and something had to be done.
Standing up wearily infront of the men, he looked them over one last time. He had remember all of the women and children that they had left behind at home. The widowers and orphans that rested knowing no better than any. With a brunt of anger and a gleam in his eyes he roared over at the men from the top of his lungs. His eyes bloodshot, and his veins pulsing with adrenaline, he stated:
"WE ARE FREE MEN! ARE WE NOT TO BRING SOME HOPE TO OUR LOVED AND BRETHREN ALIKE?!"
"WHO WOULD WE BE TO JUST STAND AND FALL BEHIND?! LIKE THE FATHERS OF OUR FATHERS, WHO FOUGHT OUR FOES FOR THE SAME REASON!"
Doubt still apparent, the warriors of a once feared and respected tribe, moaned and wept and screaming their case. Kugar stood roaring yet again, glancing through the branches at the warzone that lay ahead.
"COWARDS! I shall fight them alone, SCURRY BACK to your HIDING holes....
"Or JOIN me in battle and die by the power of DRAGONSKULL!"
And so then it was told by any that managed to survive a journey home, named it as the great battle. Speaking of how their mighty chief ran toward a sea of orcs, as one after one these brave warriors followed their once mighty chief to their deaths. It is apparent that he is still known and recalled to this day, by any that knows the name of the Dragonskull clan.
"This is madness! Lets us head back chief Kugar, our chance of success is obsolete, and we are all as good as DEAD!" One of the broken men cried. One after another, they all done the same, arms had been torn off, eyes ripped from their very sockets by the pounding of maces. The situation was crucial, and something had to be done.
Standing up wearily infront of the men, he looked them over one last time. He had remember all of the women and children that they had left behind at home. The widowers and orphans that rested knowing no better than any. With a brunt of anger and a gleam in his eyes he roared over at the men from the top of his lungs. His eyes bloodshot, and his veins pulsing with adrenaline, he stated:
"WE ARE FREE MEN! ARE WE NOT TO BRING SOME HOPE TO OUR LOVED AND BRETHREN ALIKE?!"
"WHO WOULD WE BE TO JUST STAND AND FALL BEHIND?! LIKE THE FATHERS OF OUR FATHERS, WHO FOUGHT OUR FOES FOR THE SAME REASON!"
Doubt still apparent, the warriors of a once feared and respected tribe, moaned and wept and screaming their case. Kugar stood roaring yet again, glancing through the branches at the warzone that lay ahead.
"COWARDS! I shall fight them alone, SCURRY BACK to your HIDING holes....
"Or JOIN me in battle and die by the power of DRAGONSKULL!"
And so then it was told by any that managed to survive a journey home, named it as the great battle. Speaking of how their mighty chief ran toward a sea of orcs, as one after one these brave warriors followed their once mighty chief to their deaths. It is apparent that he is still known and recalled to this day, by any that knows the name of the Dragonskull clan.