02-17-2017, 12:16 AM
Emperor Palpatine scowled at the Stormtrooper.
"An orc?"
The soldier, bloodied and covered in the gore of his comrades, held back his sobbing. He was kneeling in front of Palpatine's throne, surrounded by Palpatine's advsiors. Through the bulletproof window in the back of the room, one could see starships busily flying in the skies of Coruscant.
"Y-yes, my lord," the Stormtrooper shuddered.
Palpatine sighed. "Oh, for- How could you let this happen?"
"W-we were on our scouting mission, my lord... In the Green. Keeping the elven Camelot-sympathizers at bay. He... We were at an elven camp. We expected heavy r-resistance, but there was no one there except for... him."
"The orc."
"Yes, my lord. First, we tried to intimidate him. I-I-I guess he thought that was a challenge, because then he... Then he..."
He gulped. "When he was finished ki... ki... killing everyone, he asked me why m-my men were there. I told h-him we were after the elves, and... My lord, he didn't know he was in the Omniverse."
Palpatine sighed. "Did this orc have a name?"
The Stormtrooper flinched.
"Hellscream."
He bowed his head.
"Garrosh Hellscream."
Palpatine scowled. "And now your men are all dead?"
The Stormtrooper quivered. "Yes, my lord."
Palpatine lifted his arms and tensed his fingers, the sinewy tendons squeezing his bones. An arc of electricity fired from his fingertips, wrapping the soldier in twitching vines of energy. The Stormtrooper screamed as the lightning burned the skin under his suit, organs unable to cope with the shock. The advisors watched in horror as Emperor Palpatine cooked the Stormtrooper inside his own armor.
"Join them."
When Palpatine released him, smoke slipped through the cracks in the Stormtrooper's armor, filling the room with the scent of burnt meat.
"Find this Garrosh Hellscream," Palpatine smiled, "And see to it he gets a proper welcome to the Omniverse."
***
Garrosh laughed heartily. His muscles rippled violently as he wiped his opponent’s blood from his hands onto his face.
“Ohhh, I have missed this,” the orc growled, his slobbering jaw hanging in his ecstasy. “The taste of orcish blood.”
Shagrat fearfully rose to his knees. His trembling hands moved towards the serrated battleaxe rammed into his left shoulder. Unable to decide whether to grab the barbed handle or the sizzling blade, the slack-jawed Shagrat let his fingers hover over the axe in his shoulder. When he tried to move his hand, the glowing weapon shaved a shoulder joint, spurring Shagrat to howl in pain. The mithril mail he had stolen from the hobbit all those years ago trickled over his shaking legs, its magic having been violently crushed by Garrosh.
Garrosh had challenged Shagrat to a Mak'gora, an unarmed duel. At first, it seemed a fair fight, Shagrat nimbly dodging Garrosh's blows. But when Shagrat was pinned, he was forced to draw his blades to break free from Garrosh's choke-hold. Garrosh, infuriated by this transgression, drew Gorehowl. In comparison to Garrosh’s monstrous axe, Shagrat’s scimitars seemed little more than kitchen knives.
“P-please,” Shagrat gasped, “Y-y-you can have m-my tribe. I'll join your horde. Ju… Just p-please! D-don’t kill me!”
Garrosh’s smile faded. He furiously eyed the cowering members of Shagrat’s clan.
“This is your leader?” he growled, “This pathetic, sniveling cur… is your chief?”
Shagrat continued to tremble as Garrosh marched towards him. Each footstep shook the grimy ground. Shagrat managed to pull himself up by clinging to one of the pines nearby. Yet it was all for naught, for Garrosh inconsiderately yanked Gorehowl from Shagrat's shoulder. The hooks on the edge of the axe tore more flesh from Shagrat's shoulder, opening the wound considerably. Shagrat shrieked, an unbridled sound of pain and fear. Gore poured from the canyon by his neck.
"No," Garrosh rumbled, "I don't think so."
He deftly lifted Gorehowl above his head, crimson muscles rippling. Blood was dripping from the blade onto his back.
"You! Are not fit!" Garrosh howled, so that all might hear, "To join the HORDE!"
He effortlessly chopped Shagrat's head from its base. Shagrat's tribe watched his head hit the ground, listened as the impact made a "slosh" sound, almost like a bucket full of water. Mud and vegetation clung to his face as Garrosh unceremoniously kicked it away.
"I am recruiting," Garrosh snarled, "I seek strong orcish warriors to join me in my cause. Those who do not have the stomach for war, leave while you can."
The orc jammed the butt of Gorehowl into the ground as Shagrat's tribe cowered before him. Many of them started to shrink away, fearfully watching Garrosh. The bloody orc closed his eyes and waited for the unworthy to flee the place. The fearful but persistent few willing to face this monster, no more than two dozen warriors, watched to see what he would do next.
"It has come to my attention," Garrosh said, "that orcs are not respected in this... Omniverse. That we are simply barbaric tribes that do not concern anyone. But worst of all..."
Garrosh glowered at the tribe. "That there are orcs who would lie on their back so that humans and elves can scratch their bellies. That orcs in the Omniverse are cowards. I have heard that the superior arcane skills of Camelot and the swiftness of elves cast fear into our people. But let me ask you. How many of you still have your strength? Your homes? Your HONOR? How many of you still hold the respect of your own children?"
The orcs were silent. There was no sound but the dripping of blood from Shagrat's neck.
Garrosh laughed sadly. "None of you."
"I will have none of this!" he boomed, "We are not dogs that heel to such feeble races. We are slaves to NOTHING and NO ONE. And no longer will I tolerate this oppression of our people. Orcs must remember the glory of blades, and reclaim our lands! This forest, ha, this whole Omniverse, it is owed to us! But we have allowed the enemy to take it. And now, they corrupt everything we hold dear and treat us like brutes."
Some of the orcs seemed ready to attack Garrosh. He smirked.
"Do you not believe me? Then tell me. Who caused the Blight?"
The villagers scowled and turned to each other. Garrosh continued, "The Blight, which threatened this entire Verse, the Blight, a plague that reeked of corrosive magicks. The Blight that destroyed the orcish civilizations that prospered here. Well, I tell you, the Blight was a weapon! Its maker?"
Garrosh glared into the distance. "The elves."
He could hear some of the orcs behind him scoff.
"Where is your proof?" one of them grumbled.
Garrosh faced him, causing all of the orcs to either be on guard or to step back.
"Proof?" Garrosh growled, "How about the fact that the Blight raged through orcish territory, while it seemed to show mercy to the elves and their allies?"
Garrosh turned to address the whole clan.
"There is only one path here, friends. One path before our very way of life is poisoned by the humans and torn from our broken fingers. One path before diplomacy neuters our people. One path before the orc withers away into cowardice and shame. Just one path, friends."
The other orcs watched Garrosh pull Gorehowl from the earth, lifting the axe above his head. Dust and blood rained over Garrosh as his tusks clashed furiously. His voice was now fueled with the rage of every orc in the Green, a warcry that could shred mountains in its pure rage, an anger that could move worlds and devour kingdoms. These were words that all would learn to fear.
"LOK'TAR OGAR!" Garrosh hollered.
The orc warriors, regardless of gender, age or class, lifted their various weapons. It did not matter that their shameful chief had been slaughtered before their very eyes. It did not matter that it was likely that every orc here would die at the hands of lesser beings. In fact, they expected no less. All twenty-two orcs felt the same rage that pumped in Garrosh's veins, and at this moment, all twenty-two orcs were a member of a natural force, a storm that would sweep across the universe in its cry for justice and vengeance.
"VICTORY!" they cried, "OR DEATH!"
Garrosh smiled. He had vanquished many powerful foes by himself, and now he had a veritable army.
Now, he had the Horde.
"An orc?"
The soldier, bloodied and covered in the gore of his comrades, held back his sobbing. He was kneeling in front of Palpatine's throne, surrounded by Palpatine's advsiors. Through the bulletproof window in the back of the room, one could see starships busily flying in the skies of Coruscant.
"Y-yes, my lord," the Stormtrooper shuddered.
Palpatine sighed. "Oh, for- How could you let this happen?"
"W-we were on our scouting mission, my lord... In the Green. Keeping the elven Camelot-sympathizers at bay. He... We were at an elven camp. We expected heavy r-resistance, but there was no one there except for... him."
"The orc."
"Yes, my lord. First, we tried to intimidate him. I-I-I guess he thought that was a challenge, because then he... Then he..."
He gulped. "When he was finished ki... ki... killing everyone, he asked me why m-my men were there. I told h-him we were after the elves, and... My lord, he didn't know he was in the Omniverse."
Palpatine sighed. "Did this orc have a name?"
The Stormtrooper flinched.
"Hellscream."
He bowed his head.
"Garrosh Hellscream."
Palpatine scowled. "And now your men are all dead?"
The Stormtrooper quivered. "Yes, my lord."
Palpatine lifted his arms and tensed his fingers, the sinewy tendons squeezing his bones. An arc of electricity fired from his fingertips, wrapping the soldier in twitching vines of energy. The Stormtrooper screamed as the lightning burned the skin under his suit, organs unable to cope with the shock. The advisors watched in horror as Emperor Palpatine cooked the Stormtrooper inside his own armor.
"Join them."
When Palpatine released him, smoke slipped through the cracks in the Stormtrooper's armor, filling the room with the scent of burnt meat.
"Find this Garrosh Hellscream," Palpatine smiled, "And see to it he gets a proper welcome to the Omniverse."
***
Garrosh laughed heartily. His muscles rippled violently as he wiped his opponent’s blood from his hands onto his face.
“Ohhh, I have missed this,” the orc growled, his slobbering jaw hanging in his ecstasy. “The taste of orcish blood.”
Shagrat fearfully rose to his knees. His trembling hands moved towards the serrated battleaxe rammed into his left shoulder. Unable to decide whether to grab the barbed handle or the sizzling blade, the slack-jawed Shagrat let his fingers hover over the axe in his shoulder. When he tried to move his hand, the glowing weapon shaved a shoulder joint, spurring Shagrat to howl in pain. The mithril mail he had stolen from the hobbit all those years ago trickled over his shaking legs, its magic having been violently crushed by Garrosh.
Garrosh had challenged Shagrat to a Mak'gora, an unarmed duel. At first, it seemed a fair fight, Shagrat nimbly dodging Garrosh's blows. But when Shagrat was pinned, he was forced to draw his blades to break free from Garrosh's choke-hold. Garrosh, infuriated by this transgression, drew Gorehowl. In comparison to Garrosh’s monstrous axe, Shagrat’s scimitars seemed little more than kitchen knives.
“P-please,” Shagrat gasped, “Y-y-you can have m-my tribe. I'll join your horde. Ju… Just p-please! D-don’t kill me!”
Garrosh’s smile faded. He furiously eyed the cowering members of Shagrat’s clan.
“This is your leader?” he growled, “This pathetic, sniveling cur… is your chief?”
Shagrat continued to tremble as Garrosh marched towards him. Each footstep shook the grimy ground. Shagrat managed to pull himself up by clinging to one of the pines nearby. Yet it was all for naught, for Garrosh inconsiderately yanked Gorehowl from Shagrat's shoulder. The hooks on the edge of the axe tore more flesh from Shagrat's shoulder, opening the wound considerably. Shagrat shrieked, an unbridled sound of pain and fear. Gore poured from the canyon by his neck.
"No," Garrosh rumbled, "I don't think so."
He deftly lifted Gorehowl above his head, crimson muscles rippling. Blood was dripping from the blade onto his back.
"You! Are not fit!" Garrosh howled, so that all might hear, "To join the HORDE!"
He effortlessly chopped Shagrat's head from its base. Shagrat's tribe watched his head hit the ground, listened as the impact made a "slosh" sound, almost like a bucket full of water. Mud and vegetation clung to his face as Garrosh unceremoniously kicked it away.
"I am recruiting," Garrosh snarled, "I seek strong orcish warriors to join me in my cause. Those who do not have the stomach for war, leave while you can."
The orc jammed the butt of Gorehowl into the ground as Shagrat's tribe cowered before him. Many of them started to shrink away, fearfully watching Garrosh. The bloody orc closed his eyes and waited for the unworthy to flee the place. The fearful but persistent few willing to face this monster, no more than two dozen warriors, watched to see what he would do next.
"It has come to my attention," Garrosh said, "that orcs are not respected in this... Omniverse. That we are simply barbaric tribes that do not concern anyone. But worst of all..."
Garrosh glowered at the tribe. "That there are orcs who would lie on their back so that humans and elves can scratch their bellies. That orcs in the Omniverse are cowards. I have heard that the superior arcane skills of Camelot and the swiftness of elves cast fear into our people. But let me ask you. How many of you still have your strength? Your homes? Your HONOR? How many of you still hold the respect of your own children?"
The orcs were silent. There was no sound but the dripping of blood from Shagrat's neck.
Garrosh laughed sadly. "None of you."
"I will have none of this!" he boomed, "We are not dogs that heel to such feeble races. We are slaves to NOTHING and NO ONE. And no longer will I tolerate this oppression of our people. Orcs must remember the glory of blades, and reclaim our lands! This forest, ha, this whole Omniverse, it is owed to us! But we have allowed the enemy to take it. And now, they corrupt everything we hold dear and treat us like brutes."
Some of the orcs seemed ready to attack Garrosh. He smirked.
"Do you not believe me? Then tell me. Who caused the Blight?"
The villagers scowled and turned to each other. Garrosh continued, "The Blight, which threatened this entire Verse, the Blight, a plague that reeked of corrosive magicks. The Blight that destroyed the orcish civilizations that prospered here. Well, I tell you, the Blight was a weapon! Its maker?"
Garrosh glared into the distance. "The elves."
He could hear some of the orcs behind him scoff.
"Where is your proof?" one of them grumbled.
Garrosh faced him, causing all of the orcs to either be on guard or to step back.
"Proof?" Garrosh growled, "How about the fact that the Blight raged through orcish territory, while it seemed to show mercy to the elves and their allies?"
Garrosh turned to address the whole clan.
"There is only one path here, friends. One path before our very way of life is poisoned by the humans and torn from our broken fingers. One path before diplomacy neuters our people. One path before the orc withers away into cowardice and shame. Just one path, friends."
The other orcs watched Garrosh pull Gorehowl from the earth, lifting the axe above his head. Dust and blood rained over Garrosh as his tusks clashed furiously. His voice was now fueled with the rage of every orc in the Green, a warcry that could shred mountains in its pure rage, an anger that could move worlds and devour kingdoms. These were words that all would learn to fear.
"LOK'TAR OGAR!" Garrosh hollered.
The orc warriors, regardless of gender, age or class, lifted their various weapons. It did not matter that their shameful chief had been slaughtered before their very eyes. It did not matter that it was likely that every orc here would die at the hands of lesser beings. In fact, they expected no less. All twenty-two orcs felt the same rage that pumped in Garrosh's veins, and at this moment, all twenty-two orcs were a member of a natural force, a storm that would sweep across the universe in its cry for justice and vengeance.
"VICTORY!" they cried, "OR DEATH!"
Garrosh smiled. He had vanquished many powerful foes by himself, and now he had a veritable army.
Now, he had the Horde.