jc_madden
04-05-2005, 11:08 PM
…Clouds of thick black smoke roiled across the grassy steppes, corpses littered the land and the soil was saturated with the blood of the fallen, the smell of death and sulfur hung heavy in the air. Screams and bits of black speech could be heard from every direction Kathaag was cutoff from his troops and surrounded…
“I’ll cut your fucking head off and feast on your entrails!” the old Great One croaked. “Eh, what’s that old one, another daydream? Do wipe the spittle off you!” The jailor tossed him a soiled rag. Kathaag’s eyes came focused on his surroundings and he spoke, “Such disrespect for your better, were you my whelp I’d beat you within an inch of your miserable life wretch!” The goblin was a little shaken but tried his best not to show it, the throbbing veins on his neck betrayed him. Kathaag was aware that most of his captors were more than a little afraid of him, as they should be. Kathaag the Mighty, Cleaver of Elves, Scourge of Black Steppes, Ravager of Men, Herald to the Dark Lord Himself, He who would name the nameless and tame the beast; was no mere Orc, not someone to be trifled with. It was no great surprise that it had taken an entire squad of Destroyers accompanied by a Troll lord and his thrall to fell him, and it was not without great loss to them that they did. The goblin gulped, “Forgive me great one. You were going to tell me about yourself.” The aging myrmidon cleared his throat, “No doubt your masters seek to learn more about me before they send me to the pit. No matter, knowledge will not save them it will not forestall the vengeance I will enact upon them when I have conquered all.” He pondered a moment patience was something that only came to orcs in their later years, “I can tell you haven’t the wit for the details boy so I’ll just get to the meat of it. Larger and smarter than many of my brethren I was selected to be the errand boy for the incompetent Gulgaz the Vile, some called him the Doomhammer I called him DULLhammer. It was with great exuberance that I finally choked the life out of him when he failed to follow the orders of his superior. I was promoted and became lancer in HIS army. It was not long before I was leader of that squad though the position was short lived. A decisive victory against the frivolous feyborn elven scum had earned me a name and a place at the table of our clan leader. One of his generals had lobbed some veiled insult of some kind about the nature of my lineage it was something to do with the wolves that we’d been breeding. I was sent into a murderous fury I punched him square in his mouth for the insult. I had underestimated his prowess for he laughed and picked up his carving knife from the table and took my left pinky, a reminder to respect my betters and stay my fists at the diner table. I learned that lesson well enough that day but our clan lord was also impressed with my gall, he began teaching me the strategies of battle and the nature of war. Many years passed and I had become a renowned field commander, my battles were legendary. I trained legions of orcs to fight in ways that you have never seen. Though frail and palid something can be said for methods that men wage war. I studied the great human commanders and their tactics and emulated them in my teachings. My horde was smaller than most of the other commanders and yet suffered far less losses than they and lived through far more victories. Eventually I was tasked with forcing your clan to submit to our rule, a task that was akin to death sentence it seems but your fool commanders have let me live. For that I shall repay them with blood. Tonight I sup on their fat gullets, now show me to your arena scrub!”
“I’ll cut your fucking head off and feast on your entrails!” the old Great One croaked. “Eh, what’s that old one, another daydream? Do wipe the spittle off you!” The jailor tossed him a soiled rag. Kathaag’s eyes came focused on his surroundings and he spoke, “Such disrespect for your better, were you my whelp I’d beat you within an inch of your miserable life wretch!” The goblin was a little shaken but tried his best not to show it, the throbbing veins on his neck betrayed him. Kathaag was aware that most of his captors were more than a little afraid of him, as they should be. Kathaag the Mighty, Cleaver of Elves, Scourge of Black Steppes, Ravager of Men, Herald to the Dark Lord Himself, He who would name the nameless and tame the beast; was no mere Orc, not someone to be trifled with. It was no great surprise that it had taken an entire squad of Destroyers accompanied by a Troll lord and his thrall to fell him, and it was not without great loss to them that they did. The goblin gulped, “Forgive me great one. You were going to tell me about yourself.” The aging myrmidon cleared his throat, “No doubt your masters seek to learn more about me before they send me to the pit. No matter, knowledge will not save them it will not forestall the vengeance I will enact upon them when I have conquered all.” He pondered a moment patience was something that only came to orcs in their later years, “I can tell you haven’t the wit for the details boy so I’ll just get to the meat of it. Larger and smarter than many of my brethren I was selected to be the errand boy for the incompetent Gulgaz the Vile, some called him the Doomhammer I called him DULLhammer. It was with great exuberance that I finally choked the life out of him when he failed to follow the orders of his superior. I was promoted and became lancer in HIS army. It was not long before I was leader of that squad though the position was short lived. A decisive victory against the frivolous feyborn elven scum had earned me a name and a place at the table of our clan leader. One of his generals had lobbed some veiled insult of some kind about the nature of my lineage it was something to do with the wolves that we’d been breeding. I was sent into a murderous fury I punched him square in his mouth for the insult. I had underestimated his prowess for he laughed and picked up his carving knife from the table and took my left pinky, a reminder to respect my betters and stay my fists at the diner table. I learned that lesson well enough that day but our clan lord was also impressed with my gall, he began teaching me the strategies of battle and the nature of war. Many years passed and I had become a renowned field commander, my battles were legendary. I trained legions of orcs to fight in ways that you have never seen. Though frail and palid something can be said for methods that men wage war. I studied the great human commanders and their tactics and emulated them in my teachings. My horde was smaller than most of the other commanders and yet suffered far less losses than they and lived through far more victories. Eventually I was tasked with forcing your clan to submit to our rule, a task that was akin to death sentence it seems but your fool commanders have let me live. For that I shall repay them with blood. Tonight I sup on their fat gullets, now show me to your arena scrub!”