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Lurgahk: A Colorless Sky and a Wandering Bard

Started by Lurgahk
Post #87207

Likes Given: 14
Likes Received: 16
Faction & Race:
Daggerfall Covenant
(( This is Part 2 of the series I am creating for Lurgahk. The previous parts will be listed below. I would very much appreciate feedback.))

Prologue - Lurgahk Gro-Vorguu, the Heart Racer
Part 1 - Brutality Within the Shadows
Part 3 - Pleasures of a Mad Woman
Part 4 - Love is the Khajiit's Downfall
Part 5 - Journey to Redemption
Part 6 - Newblood

[Image: syrim-prev-041811-599cont1.jpg]
Lutes can be decieving.

Lurgahk stretched his arms towards the sky, letting out a long, well-deserved yawn. He tried to sit up, but fell back down with a thud. The orc grew a small grin, too tired to even get up. He looked around for a few moments, observing his scenery for the first time in the daylight.

He looked up at the clouds, but today, there were no figures he could see. There was no blue in the sky to part one cloud from another, just a sea of white fluff that seemed to span on forever.

Lurgahk sniffed and rubbed his nose. He tucked his knees to his chest and put his hands out in front of him. He began to roll back, applying pressure on his upper spine, then he rolled forward, then back again, and finally with grunt, tossed his weight forward to get on his feet. He stood there, taking a deep breath before realizing the pain in his ribs and right calf. The woman a few nights before must have done more to him than he thought. "Damn lanterns.." He grunted.

He rubbed his eyes, as little by little, black little spots appeared, until his vision was darkened, and he felt off balance. "Why does that always happen?" Lurgahk continued massaging his eyelids. "I should ask a mage." The spots began to disperse from his eyes, and he was relieved that he could again, see. The orc put his hands on his head, and slowly dragged it down his face. "I'm talking to myself again.." Lurgahk paused for a few moments.

He seemed to be camping just beside the path that leads towards Daggerfall, the only thing keeping him out of sight was a moss-covered log. The city was not yet on the horizon, but Lurgahk knew the pathways. It would only be another day or two before he returned. Sleeping next to the road was not a particularly smart move, considering the Orsimer of Trogus may be hunting him, but so far, they hadn't sent anyone to search for the murderer who killed their chieftan. It had been three days since Lurgahk had ventured into Trogus. If they had wanted to hunt him down, they would have already done it. But, he hadn't been found yet. He yawned, and stretched his hands towards the sky. He took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of forest.

Lurgahk was just about to delve into tranquility, just as the sound of a lute began to play in his ears. He groaned and slowly poked his out from around the log and looked down the path. A breton bard, with a lute in hand, strumming it for absolutely no reason at all. The man looked strong, but didn't seem to pose much of a threat, as he was a bard after all. Lurgahk muttered, "Hmph. Is he expecting a crowd of squirrels to come listen to his song?" Then, the man began to sing. Some boring story about a man with a red beard being slaughtered by a woman...

Lurgahk crouched behind the log, carefully listening to the man's music. His voice grew louder and louder, and slowly, they grew more distant. Lurgahk stood up from behind the log and looked up at the breton who was now walking away from him. The orc stood and quickly began to walk towards the bard, trying to be as silent as possible.

Lurgahk's heartbeat began to quicken. Only a few more steps, and this man would be singing to the worms that squirmed in the dirt. 'Fool', he thought. He pulled his dagger from his belt and held it to his side, not close enough to end this wretched music. Just six more steps...

The bard stopped everything and turned around, and smiled. But this smile was not that of a bard who had thought he had finally found a traveling companion. It was a sinister grin that reached from ear to ear. A grin that a mad man shows to his hostage before he begins another routine of calculated torture.

Lurgahk noticed the signifigance of this too late, for before he could make a move on the man, something blunt hit the orc's head, and he collapsed onto the ground.
This post was last modified: February 22nd 2014, 12:33 AM by Lurgahk
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Post #88554

Likes Given: 24
Likes Received: 46
Faction & Race:
Daggerfall Covenant
Nice how he was beaten by a Breton like myself strong and not like most of my Breton kin

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