Eonblue
13-02-2007, 08:14 PM
Clink
Clunk
Clank
Clink
Clink
Clunk
A clumsy, heavy, blistered hand wrapped tightly around a splintered wooden handle brought the malets head down without finese. Rock chips crumbled to the ground with each strike. Occasionally a rogue piece would strike the wall behind and cause the stray piece of earth to crumple into yet even smaller pieces. The light was dim in this dreary cave as only torches sporadically placed provided lumination. The ununiform stone cast more shadows than the light chased away. Hunched over a large boulder, swinging the tool without conviction there sat a hulking mistake of creation.
"One day we show our worth" the Orc mumbled.
"They say we is wasted breath, but this is no true. That is right, true?" the Orc turned as he posed this question to his only friend.
But as always the head he shared with the body gave no answer, instead it lay limp with chin to chest, giving no movement and no reply. With the hand not weilding the hammer, our Orc touched the beaded necklace around its neck, as if for comfort. Somehow, it knew this was a gift from its mother at his birth, eventhough he had no recollection of his mothers face.
While this Orc may lack the mind to function with his sociaty, as almost any creature that is aware of its existence, it understood the emotions of sadness, lonliness and the deep need to belong.
Softly, the sounds of gravel and dirt underfoot caught the attention of our pathetic Orc despite its own pointless hammering. As it turned, agony ripped through its body clouding all thought. In a sudden burst of movement, the Orc bolted on it's feet and wheeled around on its heels in time to see a purely terrifying creature of hell charging at him swinging a large blood stained axe. In the corner of its good eye, the Orc noticed a man creature in weatherstained (and was that blood too?) robes and garments. Volatile fire seems to bubble from the man creatures palms. As if recongnition of this detail ignited the flames, the ORC became ingulfed in fire as hot as Ragnoross own breath.
"ME SMASH YOU DEAD!" our Orc managed to scream before the fel demons axe bashed him in it's good face, crushing many bones in the process including its jaw, preventing the opening and shutting and distilling speech from the creature for the rest of it's short life.
The next few moments went by in a haze, out of focus to the Orc.
As the ground rushed to meet its face, it recalled some faint memory that may have been at its birth. Many forelorn faces grimaced at the sight of this new creature that had just come into the world. Other faces turned in shame.
A final axe blow to the Orcs stomach shattered all thought save for one;
this is death
As the Orcs last breath escaped him, he saw through one bloodied eye, a warlock walk toward him and without care for its existence and rip the bead from around its neck. With the beads draped around the human creaturs first, the last comperhenstion the Orc had before it died was that the movements the warlock began doing was in fact a dance.
Clunk
Clank
Clink
Clink
Clunk
A clumsy, heavy, blistered hand wrapped tightly around a splintered wooden handle brought the malets head down without finese. Rock chips crumbled to the ground with each strike. Occasionally a rogue piece would strike the wall behind and cause the stray piece of earth to crumple into yet even smaller pieces. The light was dim in this dreary cave as only torches sporadically placed provided lumination. The ununiform stone cast more shadows than the light chased away. Hunched over a large boulder, swinging the tool without conviction there sat a hulking mistake of creation.
"One day we show our worth" the Orc mumbled.
"They say we is wasted breath, but this is no true. That is right, true?" the Orc turned as he posed this question to his only friend.
But as always the head he shared with the body gave no answer, instead it lay limp with chin to chest, giving no movement and no reply. With the hand not weilding the hammer, our Orc touched the beaded necklace around its neck, as if for comfort. Somehow, it knew this was a gift from its mother at his birth, eventhough he had no recollection of his mothers face.
While this Orc may lack the mind to function with his sociaty, as almost any creature that is aware of its existence, it understood the emotions of sadness, lonliness and the deep need to belong.
Softly, the sounds of gravel and dirt underfoot caught the attention of our pathetic Orc despite its own pointless hammering. As it turned, agony ripped through its body clouding all thought. In a sudden burst of movement, the Orc bolted on it's feet and wheeled around on its heels in time to see a purely terrifying creature of hell charging at him swinging a large blood stained axe. In the corner of its good eye, the Orc noticed a man creature in weatherstained (and was that blood too?) robes and garments. Volatile fire seems to bubble from the man creatures palms. As if recongnition of this detail ignited the flames, the ORC became ingulfed in fire as hot as Ragnoross own breath.
"ME SMASH YOU DEAD!" our Orc managed to scream before the fel demons axe bashed him in it's good face, crushing many bones in the process including its jaw, preventing the opening and shutting and distilling speech from the creature for the rest of it's short life.
The next few moments went by in a haze, out of focus to the Orc.
As the ground rushed to meet its face, it recalled some faint memory that may have been at its birth. Many forelorn faces grimaced at the sight of this new creature that had just come into the world. Other faces turned in shame.
A final axe blow to the Orcs stomach shattered all thought save for one;
this is death
As the Orcs last breath escaped him, he saw through one bloodied eye, a warlock walk toward him and without care for its existence and rip the bead from around its neck. With the beads draped around the human creaturs first, the last comperhenstion the Orc had before it died was that the movements the warlock began doing was in fact a dance.