Welcome to Librarium Online!
Join our community of 80,000+ members and take part in the number one resource for Warhammer and Warhammer 40K discussion!
Registering gives you full access to take part in discussions, upload pictures, contact other members and search everything!
Deadstar_MRC (Orcs & Goblins)
A question of devotion
Gorbruff, Boss of the Redfangs, dragged himself from the fog of sleep into the dim light filtering through the thick skin of his tent. Shrugging off the pelts of wolf and bear which sheltered him from the cold, he stumbled groggily over to a sturdy wooden table, already laden with flagons of fungus beer and the roasted forms of several unfortunate beasts. With a grin that looked large enough to consume every last scrap on the table, Gorbruff sagged into a chair and began to eat.
Arapheal Kahrslar, Chosen champion of Chaos, snapped into consciousness like a sprung trap, the sparse covering of branches which had served to camouflage him during his slumber falling away as he climbed to his feet, sword in hand. A helmed gaze swept the surrounds, carefully observing the small clearing for any potential threat. Finding none, the massive armoured form knelt by a thin stream and, after sipping water from a cupped gauntlet, bowed his head to the earth and whispered secret words of blessing and devotion to his distant gods.
Astride his trusty boar, Gorbruff was in full voice along with the rest of his Boys, all of them belting out a cheery marching tune to keep the rest of the rowdy mob moving along. All were in high spirits today, having had a good old fight a few nights ago, and as there were signs of more towns and cities ahead, they were all looking forward to more.
At least, Gorbruff felt, most of his Boys were. A few of the Shamans that marched within the horde of Orcs seemed a little squeamish this morning. And they weren't joining in with the singing, either.
Gorbruff steered his boar towards one and gave him a friendly slap on the back, “Oi, Slarko! You is not lookin' propery green today! Wot's got inta ya?”
Slarko shook his head a little, raising an arm to point of into the thicket on the left of their passage, “Me 'ead's 'urtin', boss! Somefink in dem trees is makin' me 'ead feel funny.”
Gorbruff peered at the treeline, mulling this over for a bit. Turning back over his shoulder, he shouted back at one of his bosses, “Oi, Garfink! I is gonna see what be makin' Slarko feel funny! You keep headin' thataway!”
Arapheal rose from one knee after offering yet more thanks to his deity, and regarded the heavy door before him. Cryptic runes hinted at some enchantment sealing the crypt, but it was a simple matter to pick at the threads sustaining the spell. It unravelled before him, and the door was open.
But it would not be the last of his trials, Arapheal knew. There would be guardians for an artefact such as this. Lifting his sword before him he moved cautiously into the darkness, ever closer to his goal.
Gorbruff stumbled across the small patch of ruins by chance, but was fairly certain he had found whatever was making his shamans uneasy. Filtering up from the depths of darkness within the crumbling stone were the distant sounds of combat.
He couldn't help but smile. The unease of his shamans and the presence of fighting were sure indicators that there was something valuable here, and that was worth investigating.
Finding the remnants of a torch in the ruins and bringing it to life, Gorbruff began to descend into the catacombs.
An unearthly howl greeted Gorbruff as he reached the lowest chamber, the howl of a twisting, writhing creature breathing its last beneath the blade of a massive armoured form. As impressive as the warrior was, he couldn't hold Gorbruff's attention; a wicked looking blade at the rear of the chamber held and even more powerful allure. Gorbruff hesitantly shuffled towards it, only to have the hulking armoured figure step into his path.
“What are you doing here, you filthy creature?” Demanded the warrior in a voice laden with spite.
Gorbruff refused to be intimidated, “Gorbruff finks 'e should be askin' youse da same fing.”
The Chaos Warrior drew himself to his full height, iridescent armour shimmering even in the dull light of this subterranean chamber. His steel skin sounded like a muffled gong as a massive gauntlet clapped across his breast, “I, Arapheal Kahrslar, have dedicated my life to the finding of this blade, the greatest weapon of our greatest champion! Though He has long since passed from this world, He granted me a vision, a subtle hint to direct me upon this path. I have sacked cities for the merest hint of a clue, I have brought down daemons and torn secrets from their bloodied mouths. I have followed this trail even though at times it seemed endless! But I have prevailed! I have defeated each and every obstacle in my path, challenges that would have ended a lesser being. I, Arapheal Kahrslar, have earned the right to wield this blade!”
He paused for breath, chest heaving with pride and devotion, and from beneath his helm a piercing gaze bore into Gorbruff's. “Now, Orc,” the chosen warrior hissed, “I ask you again; what are you doing here!”
Gorbruff shrugged, “Da Shamans is told me dis place made 'em feel funny, sos I fought dere 'ad ta be somfink good 'ere. Somefink shiny.”
For the briefest of moments there was deathly silence as Arapheal digested the news. A sound reminiscent of a snake's death rattle crescendoed into the quiet; countless armour plates sounding against one another as the Chaos champion's body shook with rage, precluded the impending eruption, “That's IT?! Because you thought you'd find something shiny!?”
Gorbruff shrugged, “Always good to have somefink shiny...”
Feeling a sharp pain in his chest, Gorbruff looked down to see a blade embedded there. He looked up, puzzled for a moment as to how Arapheal had moved so quickly, but the thought quickly slipped from his mind as he looked once more at the blade in his chest.
Digger (Warriors of Chaos)
- No fluff recieved .
Voting ends in 98 hours.
Uh...where's the love? I guess the warrior of chaos is obsessed with finding the blade, but that's not really conveyed well within the story.
Still, the story is well written, and the shift from character to character is effective. I especially like the pure rage of the chaos warrior when faced with the Orc's backwards simplicity. In a way, the chaos warrior is no different. He's just looking for something shiny. The Orc is a gross parody of himself, and to add even further insult, a much better fighter as well. Well done.
"Any job worth doing, is worth doing with a powerklaw."
Awww... I was looking forward to reading Digger's story...
Cheers for the feedback thus far, guys. I know I kind of skirted around the theme in this one. (I could post what I was working on before this idea, if you actually wanted part of an Orc/Chaos love story...) I somehow got in my head that devotion was a kind of love/passion, and the story was going to contrast the dedication and devotion of the Chaos warrior against the happy, carefree nature of the Orc. And then I ran out of words and don't think I managed it as well as I wanted to. Which sort of resulted in that ending, as well, although in truth I hadn't decided how this one was going to end until I realised how close I was to the word limit!
I wanted to read Digger's work too. The score I give you wont matter without him, so I'll hold off on giving you credit just yet.
I enjoyed the story, I did like the comparison between the carefree Orc and the grimfaced Warrior. I had a feeling you were going to play more on the comparison though.
I know that it's easier to say in hindsight, but I would have written a slightly different ending. I expected at any moment for some embodiment of Khorne to come down and chose the Orc over the Warrior, as the rightful bearer of the sword. Khorne cares not from whom the blood flows, so long as there's blood. It would have conveyed a message like "Love is good, but obsession only stands in the way of the great purpose". The Warrior hadn't killed much, whereas the Orc was fresh from slaughter and lived for war.
Good story though- I kept getting sunny, happy, almost "Huck Finn" images in my head with the Orcs, and the speech was well done and quite intelligible, as it should be.
Voting withheld until Digger posts his story or capitulates
Deadstar_MRC (4/5): I liked the punchline. It was well crafted. I also liked the jump from character to character. The only thing keeping me from giving you a 5 is just this gut feeling that there's something... not quite right about the orc boss... especially his final words. Well. I'm not gonna worry too much about it. Good job.
Without any resistance Deadstar was free to score 12,5 votes against the fluffless Digger.