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"Myyergh..."

Grimghor moaned loudly as he shielded himself with his hands as the abrasive desert gale whipped relentlessly over his exposed body. As usual he had left his pants and other garments elsewhere; a poor plan retrospectively when wandering off into the desert in search of, well, anything edible he could find or catch. He was never a picky eater. Far too lenient, in the opinions of his friends... or friend. Singular. Krazen's opinion. His sand-whipped face was tender, and stung as it twisted and wrinkled like old olivey leather to form a scowl as the dopey, yet regrettably familiar visage of an orc wearing a slanted metal hat danced through his thoughts, baring a smug antagonizing grin.

"Feck yoo Krazen..."

Grimghor muttered loathe-fully to himself as the desert whipped up a mouthful of sand which caught in his throat, and caused him to wheeze and splutter violently. He hacked and spat away the surprise and persisted to wade onward, dragging his thickset legs through the grainy sea as the blurry outlines of palm trees and boulders barely emerged from the sandy haze, difficult to discern before they vanished again as he passed them by.

Hours upon hours passed by of enduring the the wind and heat, his back boiled and blistered like bacon frying in a pan, his mouth and tongue felt as parched and bristly as the surrounding cacti, while the rest of his body felt whipped raw and tender from the thousand of tiny shards of stone that had been blasting against him from all directions. Eventually, larger shapes appeared ahead of him. Structures? He wasn't sure, and by now groggy delirium weighed down on him from the sunstroke and dehydration. He rubbed sandy granules away form his murky yellow eyes, desperate to know, to see more, blinking and squinting at the towering blurs before him which danced and quivering behind their sandy veil.

An abrupt, and solid meaty crack ended his speculation prematurely as pain swallowed up his thoughts, billowing upwards from his shin. He flung his gaze downward, frenzied to know the source. The jagged hollowed out, and decayed skull of some beast. Time prevented him from perceiving more as he realized he had lost his footing and was now in motion, staggering forwards, then falling. He flailed his arms in a futile attempt to stop or slow his decent, but it was too late. Before him, growing larger and clearer in each passing moment was the gray, and pitted stony face of a boulder. He felt a sharp, sudden jab of pain as his skull collided with the solid and unyielding stone, crushing and splitting the skin. He felt a viscus warmth trickle down his face and mingle with sweat and sand as his conscious thoughts drained away, and darkness consumed him.

Grimghor's eyelids felt brittle and thin as they cracked open weakly, surprised to see the clear blue pristine sky of the Kantabi Desert above him. The storm had passed. A wheezy groan rumbled up from his throat as he tried to hone his focus on his surroundings. His eyes stung, and his head was pounding as if it had been split in twain by an axe. He moaned loudly as his fall played back through his mind. He tried to lift his hand to his head to relieve the sensation, and explore the severity of the wound, but was met with unexpected resistance as his limb failed to execute his simple command. Panic set in and he snapped his head left then right as he feverishly tried to discern the cause, peering down toward his lower body, but he couldn't see all of it. He was buried, mostly. Only his face and his mountainous bot-belly protruded from his sandy prison, disabling all four of his limbs. Grimghor tried to force him arms and legs up through the hefty blanket of sand, straining, and groaning, but he was too weak and battered to break free. He flopped his head back down to the sand uselessly, surrendering to his fate as he cycled through every orcish curse in his vocabulary.

"Delicious..."

Grimghor jerked his head toward the source of the deep, guttural murmur, eyes wild and ablaze.

"Who said dat?!"

The boulder before him stood still and defiant as the smear of blood left by Grimghor's scalp slowly began to boil and pop as it was drained away into a crack in it's stony gray surface. He swore he could hear the stone slurping, then smack it's lips, but before he could entertain the though it rumbled violently as speech boomed out from within it's core.

"Your offering has been accepted, son of blood, and fire."

Grimghor stared dumb-struck, a fairly common expression for him which returned to the rounded contours of his face with ease.

"Offerin'?! Whut!?"

Grimghor wriggled and thrashed violently to escape the suffocating clutches of the sand with new-found desperation.

"I will gift you with knowledge... fat one."

The stone's voice had lessened to a gravely murmur and rage overcame Grimghor's expression, twisting his leathery skin and breaking the freshly formed scab on his forehead, allowing new blood to ooze down, clinging to his eye sockets and the lumpy bridge of his nose.

"FAT WUN!?! MEH KILL YO-"

Grimghor was unable to consider the complexities of actually killing a rock as his futile threats were immediately severed, agony thrumming the inner walls of his skull, obliterating logic and reason.

"RRUUAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!"

Grimghor wailed the peak of his agony to the ancient sands as the world around him began to warp, change, and distort. The surrounding stones began to melt and defy gravity, bleeding up into the sky which had taken on an ominous red hue, then changed to orange, then yellow. The world's ceiling quivered then was torn asunder, cracks in the sky revealing it's inner workings, the stars, the gassy masses of clouds. The moon grew larger and larger until it dwarfed the orc, cracking apart and grinning at him with stalagmite teeth as it swatted him aside with a pitted stony arm and he flew for what seemed like one thousand lifetimes. He looked down unto himself as he sped through the liquefying, morphing landscape which became increasingly nonsensical and alien with each and every passing moment. His hands and body changing rapidly, with speed almost too fast to follow or fathom, from smooth olivey green, to scaly and clawed, then to stocky and hairy. He felt his face, his tusks shrinking away, his features thinning, becoming slender and fair, then hard and bearded. In an instant he felt each and every tiny murmur, every thought, and impulse of the beings of Illarion, the conglomeration of voices and sensations deafened him, causing him to weep like a new born babe first entering a world which it could not possibly comprehend. He had never wanted anything more absolutely, than for it to come to an end. He felt too much, knew too much... then his pleading was heard, and suddenly, there was nothing. Complete and utter nothing, emptiness surrounded him, crushed him, suffocated him, but also freed him. The endlessness was terror, pure and raw, yet it represented unlimited possibilities, a fathomless void of nothing.

Grimghor awoke, unlike he was before. He sat up and felt at his body. Flabby, large. Normal. Or normal for him. Not scaly, nor fair and slender. A mixture of relief and concern brewed within him as he pondered what he had seen and experienced. He recalled fragments only, visions, a puzzle with pieces missing. He scratched at his greasy bald head and shrugged it off. He was still him, he was fairly certain of that. He rose from the sand and brushed his naked green body down, remembering how he had been buried earlier... was it even real? His eyes locked onto the stone which sat there in stoic silence, yet he was sure it was somehow emanating an undeniable aura of smugness. He glared at it loath-fully.

"Meh still gonna kill you... fucken rock."

Having adding his piece he turned around, beholding the gates of Cadomyr off in the distance. They had never looked more inviting.