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Lurgahk: Journey to Redemption

Started by Lurgahk
Post #124328

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Daggerfall Covenant
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Prologue - Lurgahk Gro-Vorguu, the Heart Racer
Part 1 - Brutality Within the Shadows
Part 2 - A Colorless Sky and a Wandering Bard
Part 3 - Pleasures of a Mad Woman
Part 4 - Love is the Khajiit's Downfall
Part 6 - Newblood

[Image: 200px-Orsinium.jpg]
Lost to the years of disgrace...

The gatesman bellowed at the tattered Orsimer before him. "Hail, kinsman. Are you returning from battle?" The guard was covered in plate armor from head to toe, and although it looked downright hideous, to Lurgahk it looked as if it was beautifully crafted by Malacath himself.

"No, brother. I come seeking refuge." Lurgahk did as best he could to look like a normal, stalwart, imposing Orc. He stood straight, trying to ignore the pain in his calf. Even a full month after the beating he had taken at the hands of the woman in Trogus, her wrath was still causing him excruciating pain.

The gatesman looked him up and down. "Very well, I will allow you to enter Orsinium. Just don't cause any trouble." He then turned around looking up towards the watchtower just on the other side of the gate. Lurgahk raised an eyebrow. "Wait wha-..?" He was interrupted by the guard's great bellow. "OPEN THE GATES!" And just like that, the gates slowly swung open before him.

Lurgahk slowly walked through the gates, mystified by what he saw before him. He'd only heard rumours of the fabled Orsinium, but that's all he thought it was, a meer topic of gossip. He was certain that this was now certainly not true. Huts were arranged in numerous fashions, some crafted completely different from the rest, others were completely identical to the one right next to them. It's true then...Finally, after so long, the Orsimer had a city to call their own. It was something that Lurgahk had always dismissed so easily as a simple dream. He watched as blacksmiths hammer away at their creations, wearing their soot-covered aprons, and the warriors, all wearing plate armor, wielding gruesome weapons at their back, train against one another.

Then out of no where, it hit him. All of this sneaking, this banditry...

Had he been disgracing his mother's memory? Had he been ruining the image that his mother had so desperately tried to give him? Even Lurgahk knew that an Orsimer was not to rely on petty tactics like assassinations..To do is is shameful and dishonoring your family. He'd been exiled from Vorguu, the very place his mother had sent him to in the hopes of having a normal life and maybe even becoming a Chieftan, should he have worked that hard. So many emotions flooded through his body at once, and he fell to his knees, amidst the bustling of the crowds. He curled up into a ball, trying to comprehend all that he was feeling..Guilt, regret, disapointment, sorrow...Lurgahk felt as though his body was being gutted inside out. He simply sat there for a while, wallowing in self-pity. Tears were streaming down his face, and the Orsimer passing by looked at him in disgust. He was in such vulnerable state, and Lurgahk knew it.

He slowly stood to his feet, his lip quivering and his legs shaking. He wiped away the tears on his face, and he looked around once again. He saw warriors heading into a single building, what he thought to be a barracks.

For once in his life, he longed to be apart of a society, and to make a name for himself. He wanted to fight against his brothers, just as the orcs in his mother's stories had done. He wanted to train and train, until he was finally strong enough to become a mighty warrior in his own right.

He reached his hands towards his head, and swiftly ripped off his grey hood. He through it on the ground, a small cloud of dust rising up. He spit on it, and finally began his real journey.
This post was last modified: February 22nd 2014, 12:34 AM by Lurgahk

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