Post by Chieftain on Mar 9, 2014 19:53:39 GMT -5
Throm-Ka.
Now, gather round and listen to the tale of the first Rageskull.
In a distant age of the past, long before our people fell prey to the blood curse of Mannoroth and long before our home was broken into the Outlands, an ancient clan of orcs made their home in what is now the Blade’s Edge Mountains. They peacefully lived off the land as nomadic hunters, in summer they traded their bounty with the Thunderlord orcs, then in spring and autumn they took the annual journey to the Kosh’harg festival in the shadow of Oshu’gun, and finally in winter they taught their children the ways of the elements. They were recognized as true and honorable amongst all the clans.
But all things end and so did the joy of peace. The shadow of despair was cast upon this ancient clan as the first sun of a new year rose over the Blade’s Edge Mountains. An army of brutish ogres stretched out as far as a sharp orcish eye could see. It marched forth from the northern mountainous chasms ready to bring despair and ruin upon the noble orcs below. Drumbeats rang across the valley as the ogre slaves welcomed their gronn overlord: it was none other than Grimgor the Savage.
The cry went up: “Lok-Narash!”
The orcs of the ancient clan seized axe and spear. Then a mighty roar joined the clamor and the orcish chieftain led his people to battle. For days the fighting went on with such intensity that new valleys were carved out from the torrential rivers of blood. The noble orcish chieftain came before the dread Grimgor and shouted, “I defy you! I am an orc! An orc does not kneel to a gronn!” But his war cry was in vain as Grimgor’s gigantic hand ripped the chieftain’s head from his shoulders.
Demoralized, the orcs found themselves on the verge of defeat and as the darkness of night blanketed the battlefield, the sounds of war grew quieter and quieter as the ogre host overwhelmed the last line of defense and set the orc’s camp ablaze.
As the fires grew to a furious blaze and spread to the clan’s banners, one orc of lowly rank stepped forward. His name was Rar'kull. He gripped his axe with all his might and refused to let the last of his clan be wiped out.
The spirits of those who fell in combat looked over Rar'Kull as he channeled their strength and fury into a berserker frenzy. His body began to smolder, as if he was burning from within. His axe ablaze as he fearlessly charged forward leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he cut down the ogres before him with thunderous blows. One by one they fell as he cleaved his way forward to match strength with the with the gronn master, Grimgor.
The few orcs who witnessed the event were inspired by Rar'kull’s fury and with renewed vigor they followed their brother and continued to fight long past their limits!
Rar'kull stood before the massive gronn. Grimgor stood twenty-five feet tall with arms like pillars of jagged stone. From his shoulders spikes jolted out with the heads of those who stood against him; the former chieftain one of them. In a flash the gronn's right arm came flying down towards the Rar'kull. Despite the haze of rage, the orc was too clever and managed to dodge away. The gronn struck again and missed, but the impact’s shockwave knocked Rar’kull and many others to the ground.
As Rar’kull fell, the gronn overlord brought his other hand down, smashing the orc with the weight of a mountain. Another orc would have perished, but Rar’kull was empowered by the Aspect of Fire. Beneath Grimgor’s fingers, the orc’s rage built until the gigantic hand began to burn and smoke. Suddenly an explosion lit up the night sky as flame engulfed the Grimgor’s mighty hand.
The battle fell silent for a moment and fire surrounded the body of Rar'Kull. He let out a roar and the mountains heaved. The Spirit of Earth yielding great landslides in reply. Grimgor’s ogres were left stunned and afraid. As for the gronn, himself, he sought to finish Rar’kull by slamming both has fists into the orc’s skull. Rar'kull was clever and struck first. He blazed towards Grimgor slicing through his knee and dropping the behemoth.
The warring clans looked on in awe as the flame-wreathed orc leapt into the air and yelled, "Gol'Kosh Lok'Tar Ogar!" When Rar'kull landed, the fires that covered his body had faded and off came the head of Grimgor...the Gronn had fallen and the mob of ogres dropped their weapons and retreated, now free from their cruel master.
As the sun rose, only a handful of the clan remained. There was no sign of the ogres apart from the bodies that filled the valley and the head of their gronn master head was put onto a large stone pike. Rar’kull and his surviving clansmen knew that their previous clan was destroyed in that battle. But from the ashes arose another. The Rageskull Clan. Their fiery rage would become legendary as tales of the battle spread across all Draenor.
Now, gather round and listen to the tale of the first Rageskull.
In a distant age of the past, long before our people fell prey to the blood curse of Mannoroth and long before our home was broken into the Outlands, an ancient clan of orcs made their home in what is now the Blade’s Edge Mountains. They peacefully lived off the land as nomadic hunters, in summer they traded their bounty with the Thunderlord orcs, then in spring and autumn they took the annual journey to the Kosh’harg festival in the shadow of Oshu’gun, and finally in winter they taught their children the ways of the elements. They were recognized as true and honorable amongst all the clans.
But all things end and so did the joy of peace. The shadow of despair was cast upon this ancient clan as the first sun of a new year rose over the Blade’s Edge Mountains. An army of brutish ogres stretched out as far as a sharp orcish eye could see. It marched forth from the northern mountainous chasms ready to bring despair and ruin upon the noble orcs below. Drumbeats rang across the valley as the ogre slaves welcomed their gronn overlord: it was none other than Grimgor the Savage.
The cry went up: “Lok-Narash!”
The orcs of the ancient clan seized axe and spear. Then a mighty roar joined the clamor and the orcish chieftain led his people to battle. For days the fighting went on with such intensity that new valleys were carved out from the torrential rivers of blood. The noble orcish chieftain came before the dread Grimgor and shouted, “I defy you! I am an orc! An orc does not kneel to a gronn!” But his war cry was in vain as Grimgor’s gigantic hand ripped the chieftain’s head from his shoulders.
Demoralized, the orcs found themselves on the verge of defeat and as the darkness of night blanketed the battlefield, the sounds of war grew quieter and quieter as the ogre host overwhelmed the last line of defense and set the orc’s camp ablaze.
As the fires grew to a furious blaze and spread to the clan’s banners, one orc of lowly rank stepped forward. His name was Rar'kull. He gripped his axe with all his might and refused to let the last of his clan be wiped out.
The spirits of those who fell in combat looked over Rar'Kull as he channeled their strength and fury into a berserker frenzy. His body began to smolder, as if he was burning from within. His axe ablaze as he fearlessly charged forward leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he cut down the ogres before him with thunderous blows. One by one they fell as he cleaved his way forward to match strength with the with the gronn master, Grimgor.
The few orcs who witnessed the event were inspired by Rar'kull’s fury and with renewed vigor they followed their brother and continued to fight long past their limits!
Rar'kull stood before the massive gronn. Grimgor stood twenty-five feet tall with arms like pillars of jagged stone. From his shoulders spikes jolted out with the heads of those who stood against him; the former chieftain one of them. In a flash the gronn's right arm came flying down towards the Rar'kull. Despite the haze of rage, the orc was too clever and managed to dodge away. The gronn struck again and missed, but the impact’s shockwave knocked Rar’kull and many others to the ground.
As Rar’kull fell, the gronn overlord brought his other hand down, smashing the orc with the weight of a mountain. Another orc would have perished, but Rar’kull was empowered by the Aspect of Fire. Beneath Grimgor’s fingers, the orc’s rage built until the gigantic hand began to burn and smoke. Suddenly an explosion lit up the night sky as flame engulfed the Grimgor’s mighty hand.
The battle fell silent for a moment and fire surrounded the body of Rar'Kull. He let out a roar and the mountains heaved. The Spirit of Earth yielding great landslides in reply. Grimgor’s ogres were left stunned and afraid. As for the gronn, himself, he sought to finish Rar’kull by slamming both has fists into the orc’s skull. Rar'kull was clever and struck first. He blazed towards Grimgor slicing through his knee and dropping the behemoth.
The warring clans looked on in awe as the flame-wreathed orc leapt into the air and yelled, "Gol'Kosh Lok'Tar Ogar!" When Rar'kull landed, the fires that covered his body had faded and off came the head of Grimgor...the Gronn had fallen and the mob of ogres dropped their weapons and retreated, now free from their cruel master.
As the sun rose, only a handful of the clan remained. There was no sign of the ogres apart from the bodies that filled the valley and the head of their gronn master head was put onto a large stone pike. Rar’kull and his surviving clansmen knew that their previous clan was destroyed in that battle. But from the ashes arose another. The Rageskull Clan. Their fiery rage would become legendary as tales of the battle spread across all Draenor.