Storm of the Wakener

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
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Korock
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Storm of the Wakener

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((This is the tale of Korock the Wakener, I am not a writer by any means, please excuse the errors and enjoy what you can from it. This will be completed in segments.))
~ Before my Trial of Sacrifice can be completed. You all must know the meaning behind my sacrifice. So that the value of my sacrifice can be understood.

Written on the pages before you is the grim story of Korock, read them so you may know why my sacrifice holds such value and meaning in my life. ~

- Chapter One: The Storm of Life -
Thunder crashed, as lightning briefly lit up the field, rain began to pour down on the fledgling crops of corn. A small orb of light appeared out of the treeline and flickered as it quickly moved through the fields. Lightning flashed again, and two silhouettes could be made out against the black surroundings. As thunder continued to crash with increasing intensity several more orbs of light appeared out of the dark shroud of the treeline at the edge of the field. The rain began to beat down heavier, slumping the crops over from the added weight.
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As lightning slashed through the skies, the farmhand could just barely make out several dark silhouettes chasing after the first set. Between the claps of thunder and the pitch of the rain, he could just barely make out shouts from the shapes closest to him. Instinctively grabbing his lantern and short sword from the tent behind him, he began running through the now muddy field towards the figures. The gap was closed quickly and the dark shapes were revealed to be fellow orcs, a man, and a woman, of which was far along with child.

The male orc grabbed the farmhand by the arms, and pleaded for help, “Please help us, bandits attacked our carriage, killed the other couple traveling with us, my mate... she’s with child, the situation has began her labor!” the farmhand quickly replied: “Hurry, we can get her into the tent, douse the lanterns, though I fear they've already seen us.” as they made their way towards the shelter the group of bandits split into two, one headed towards the farmhouse on the far end of the property, and the other towards the tent.

“Thank you for this, my mate thanks you as well.” Said the orc man. “Of course, my heart is much too large to see bandits tear you apart in your situation. No time for names, they’re coming this way.” Replied the farmhand as he readied his sword. The orc man readied his, and they prepared for battle as his mate yelled from labor pains from inside the tent, just barely audible above the now raging thunderstorm that had descended upon the farm.

Thunder clapped almost as frequently as the lightning flashed, which was more then often enough to see the surroundings well, well enough to fight anyway. Metal clashed with metal as the two orcs fought with the bandits in the down pouring rain and thick mud. The bandits where human, and fought without honor, three of them surrounded and outnumbered the farmhand and cut him down without mercy, spilling his blood on the already soaked ground.

The orc man caught one of the humans from behind and cleaved his head from his neck, but took a slash to the leg in the process from another behind him, he fell to the ground, and continued to deflect attacks from two of the other attacking humans as he crawled his way towards the tent. His mate’s shouts had stopped, and he feared the worst. As one of the raiders lunged towards him, he dug his sword deep into the human’s chest and kicked the other, sending him backwards into the mud, which earned him enough time to make it to the opening of the tent.

As he laid in the mud from his injuries, he looked into the tent and saw his mate, covered in blood, laying on a blanket, but lacking the lump on her middle from the child. She put a finger to her lips, making the gesture of keeping quiet towards him. As the man looked into her blue eyes he understood, and reached out for her hand as a sword plunged into his back.

The storm over head drowned out the shouts of agony as the the human raiders descended upon the tent, cutting down the orcs and tearing down the shelter. Nearby the farmhouse burned, the thunder continued to crash with intensity and lightning lit up the midnight sky. While a baby laid under a collapsed tent, wrapped in a bundle of blankets, it's cries drowned out by the torrential downpour.
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Last edited by Korock on Fri Jun 14, 2013 9:55 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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.
- Chapter Two: Unexpected Savior -
The farmhouse laid in ruins, slowly smoldering as the last of the embers burned out, most of the crops were lost as the field was trampled during the commotion of the raid and fighting. Lifeless bodies of orcs were strewn about in the field. A small group of human villagers from the outlying farms and surrounding woods ventured to the ruined farmhouse in the morning to see what had happened during the storm, and to inspect the damage done by the fire seen during the night. The grotesque scene of slaughter that they came upon was not expected, nor did they know orcs lived so close to their own homes, the humans grew scared and left quickly after this discovery, save for one, a woman of middle age with brown hair and weathered physique, who decided to poke around a bit longer.
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The woman eventually mosied over to the collapsed tent, and heard faint squeaks from under the rubble, she begun to move the debris around and hauled the bodies out of the way, after a few minutes of searching she saw a slightly moving bundle of blankets. She cautiously picked up the bundle and removed some of the coverings, and was very surprised to find a whimpering newborn orc underneath. She looked around, and upon being assured she was the only human remaining at the ruins, tucked the child under her arms and headed towards home.

She, was an honorable human, and wouldn’t leave a newborn to die, orc or not. Although she knew the baby would have to be kept away from the eyes of other humans, for they would not only exterminate the child, but herself as well if this secret was discovered. She would care for the baby, teach, raise, and nurture this poor fragile thing she held in her arms, this baby would grow up to be strong surely, having survived a birthing, and a night like that, it was meant to be.

She returned to her quaint little cottage within a couple of hours, her home sat near the treeline of the nearby woods, where she would often go and forage berries and flowers, or hunt game and fish for meats, near the cottage was a small field of crops, and a large apple tree that shadowed a small bench. The woman’s home was empty though, there was no husband, there were no children, nor were there any animals or pets, save a lone cow grazing in the back field.
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The woman sat on the bench under the tree, smiling down at the small green skin in her lap as she gently fed the calm baby. “We’ll raise you up nice and strong, just like an orc should be. I’ll take care of you, and teach you, I’m known as Brook, but you can call me mom, you cute little green skinned thing you.” She whispered softly as the child looked back with wide blue eyes.

She looked on at her empty home, “I definitely know I could use the company, perhaps you’ll help me as much as I’ll help you, huh?” She continued to whisper. “Now... you need a name... but a human name won’t do, you need an Orcish name, something strong, let me think about what I learned on orcs at the university.”

Brook pondered for a while, and ran through several names of great known Orcish warriors that she had studied and learned about in one of her history courses at the Stormwind University from her youth, until finally the expression on her face turned to one of excitement.
“I know!” She said softly, but with glee. “We will name you after one of the great orc warriors and leaders who lived during the second war and led the battle against the stronghold Stromgarde...
we will name you...
Korock.”
Last edited by Korock on Fri Jun 14, 2013 1:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Greebo
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(( Chapter 8 is my favourite so far. Seriously though, keep it up! ))
Grisbault, Twice-Made.
The p, s, l, and t are silent, the screams are not.
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