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Lurgahk: Newblood


Started by Lurgahk
Post #129222
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Faction & Race:
Daggerfall Covenant
Imperial
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 5 - Journey to Redemption
...

[Image: Orsimer-armor_zps3fb05313.gif]
Pain is the source of strength.

Lurgahk threw open the door to the barracks, his cheeks covered in dry tears, yet his eyebrows arched downward in a determined scowl. All other Orsimer turned to look at him, some with a confused expression, trying to figure out just who this young Orc was. Others looked back at him with disgust staining their faces, for they'd passed by and seen him crying and moaning in the middle of the streets only a few minutes prior. Another Orsimer stood in the front of the room, a map behind him. It was assumed that he was the one giving them orders.

One of the Orcs in the group had a menacing glare of his own on his face. He rushed up from where he was standing and pinned Lurgahk to the wall, lifting him a few inches in the air. This one was particularly beefy, much more physically imposing than the feeble, former assasin. He put his face close to the young Orc's, breathing his foul breath into Lurgahk's nostrils. Lurgahk's heart began to pump faster and faster, as the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

The Orsimer holding him against the wall looked just like any other Orc. He had a large rounded nose, with yellow eyes that could cut into the bare hide of a mammoth. He had a long scar on his left cheek that went back to his ear. His head was completely shaved, and he only had a rough covering the bottom half of his face.

He began to speak, spitting in the young one's face. "How dare you interrupt the leader of this division! I should gut you and feed your flesh to th-"

"GROKNAG!" yelled one of the Orsimer in the crowd. Groknag then turned his head around, trying to determine who would dare speak out against him.

For Lurgahk, time seemed to slow down around him. Groknag seemed to have his head turned for more than five minutes, but in reality, it was less than five seconds before Lurgahk threw the first punch at the monstrous Orc, staggering him back a bit.

Groknag quickly reached for his head, just behind his left ear where the blow had landed. "COWARDLY WHELP, punching me while my back is turned!" He then roared, preparing to send Lurgahk through unimaginable pain. A few of the Orsimer in the group swarmed the bold Orsimer, but they were unable to overcome his strength.

Groknag broke free from their grasp and charged Lurgahk with all of his might, and as he approached his target, the Heart Racer grabbed him under his shoulders and made sure he kept going forward, flying through the thick wooden wall of the barracks. Groknag would lay there, dazed in the dirt. All the citizens passing by were in shock, just as the group inside were. Lurgahk himself was astonished at what had just happened. He'd shown courage... in his own way. He saw all of the merchants and warriors staring at the scene, trying to figure out what happened.

"This is it..." Lurgahk whispered to himself, as he walked out of the broken barracks and placed his boot on the armored chest of Groknag.

He stood there for a moment, relishing in what he thought to be the most glorious moment of his life. "This is what it feels like.. To honorably triumph over an ene-.." His glorious moment of victory ended when a hand latched onto his boot.

Lurgahk was forced to the ground, and above him was Groknag whose face burned from embarrassment and the utmost hatred for Lurgahk. Groknag looked down at him in disgust. "I WILL END YOU!" he shouted fiercly. Lurgahk's attacker than leapt on top of his torso, and a flurry of punches rained down upon his skull.

After about three minutes of uninterrupted fist flying, Groknag spit in the young one's face, which was now bruised and bloody. Lurgahk was breathing heavily, his heart racing fast, but his body moving slow. A mixture of blood and drool leaked from his lips. Groknag then began to get up, standing triumphantly over his victim. Now he himself seemed to be relishing in his glorious accomplishment.

He opened his mouth to speak. "All of Orsinium, let this foolish whelp be an example! He has lacked the strength needed to defeat me in battle! How are we going to take back the Ruby Throne, when we have weaklings like these tarnishing our reputation?" Groknag let out a bellowing laughter, and opened his mouth to speak so that he may continue his speech. Lurgahk could hear none of it, as the ringing in his ears overwhelmed anything else. Even his vision was blurred, and all he could see was the image of Groknag standing above him. Despite only knowing him for six minutes, Lurgahk knew that he hated this orc. He was the epitome of what Lurgahk had grown to despise over the years, arrogance.

The muscles in Lurgahk's leg tensed, and with all the strength he had left, he sent his boot rushing towards Groknag's groin. His eyes widened as the excruciating pain surged through his body. Groknag immediately went to cradle his 'manhood' and fell directly into a ball, proceeding to lie there, writhing in pain.

Lurgahk slowly stood up, his arms limp and his legs shaking. He sniffed and weakly wiped his nose. A steady stream of blood flowed from his nostrils and mouth.

He slowly walked to the back of the room and sat in the corner, staring at the rest of them. "Go-..." His voice was still choked up from the blood that had previously overwhelmed his mouth. He cleared his throat. "I am here to join you... Go on. Speak." He rubbed his neck, and watched as the warriors turned back around to the one in front.

"I will let your ignorance slide, only this once. If you interrupt me again, I will have you thrown out and beaten like the whelp that you are. However, I will not let a body willing to help, pass me by. I am Thonkar, leader of this division. You are a mere newblood, remember that." He turned his gaze from Lurgahk and returned to the rest of the group.

The map behind him was that of High Rock. He pointed at a name west of Orsinium, the city of Daggerfall. "As I was saying, we will be escorting the Breton caravan to Daggerfall. The only residents inside the caravan will be merchants and a few bards. Normally, we would force them to travel on their own, but we have been offered a great sum of gold to guard these merchants which could drastically help us build greater fortifications around Orsinium. Not only this, but the merchants will be carrying a plethora of arms and armor which will prove valuable for the High King's armies. The reason they are paying us so much for this escort is due to the fact that they are carrying two powerful weapons, that have been enchanted by several skilled mages. If any of you try to take the weapons for yourselves, I will PERSONALLY strike you down where you stand."

Not a single Orsimer spoke, nor had they the entire time. They'd simply stood there in attention, they feet sturdy, and their postures intimidating.

"The caravan is coming from Sentinel and will be departing from their location in one month's time. Likewise, they should arrive in the city in one month. In case you idiots aren't good at math, that makes two months to prepare for the journey. Any questions?" Thronkar peered around, looking for anyone who'd speak up.

"Very well. Dismissed."
This post was last modified: March 29th 2014, 08:42 AM by Lurgahk



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