Dead End / Beginner's Luk

*Revantusk Village, the Hinterlands, Third Day of the Second Cycle*

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—‘If the dagger don’t do it, the poison will. Hellscream’s eyes are upon you, you bastard.’

Everything was turning a little quiet now, and a little cold and a little numb and my face was slowly drooping into the ground and my hands were reaching out for anything and anybody my chest what a pain what a pain my chest it hurts it is sticking all the way in should i take it out can i take it out what’s happening everything’s going cold i know it is i should call for them will they hear me they won’t hear me they won’t even come it’s over it’s over it’s over i feel cold—

—erh probably just sleeping sadok oy sadok what yeh do oh damn i’m already here sadok i swear if that orc got kidnapped heh no he’s there what be going on orc stop napping sadok yer alright he’s been stabbed of course he isn’t the letter doesn’t matter right now we need to get him back in shape do not remove the knife it could be putting pressure on vessels of blood light above right rhonya i’ll remove the dagger you can heal the wound like we did with mozrogg right then you can cauterise it heh don’t want it all spurting out eh yes this wound is less big stop talking about it and help him i can close it quick enough i can right i’ll pull say when rhonya you would be surprised a shallow wound in the right area can be deadly er what kind of dagger is it we need someone to watch after high blade he gets roughed up more than a grunt trainee bah get out of the fecking way and allow the orc that can actually help some room now hold on sadok you’re going to be alright remove his mask give him some air he might have a collapsed lung one of you round the back find out who could have done this what do you mean find out who done this there be no-one around but orc and troll when he’s in a condition to get moved get him inside er well what kind of dagger is it then ask for witnesses usually a good clue hold on this ain’t right it’s poison it is in his blood you can help him right yes like last time but much worse i can clean his blood you will not like it though oh feck off with your blood magic slow poison or purge spells try them last time i burned the poison out of his veins but it took everything i had can you clean it more effectively the letter reads this i suggested it doesn’t mean i know anything about pointy stuff recognise it yes i’m here sadok only if he wills it i force this on nobody red blade scum you can run but you cannot hide hellscream’s eyes are upon you signed someone named wrokk wrokk name don’t ring a bell sharptongue can you hear us one nod for yes seems we’ve got an admirer anyone who knows someone named wrokk though an assassin would be an idiot to give away his name eh why you talking about assassins i guess not talonslayer you’d have to answer for him then sadok has been attacked she can help him someone stabbed the high blade with a dagger that had a scroll attached to it i doubt he wrote the scroll and fell on the blade but he might not like it will be more effective than when i try though with this do it dabu save him sadok do it quickly it’s far more spread than last time he won’t have much time poison sadok hey yer sadok stimulate his breathing stormsong show me the blade move out of the way someone breathe into his mouth OUT OF THE WAY sadok hey i i seen igurg she said her first word yer yer need to hear it VASHNARZ SHUT UP AND BE USEFUL he ain’t breathing orc are you fecking stupid no amount of blood magic is going to make him fucking breathe i don’t fecking know poison FUCK i ain’t leaving his side OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY all shut up now and let her do her work she can get rid of the poison it needs to go first before we can further try to help him i’m a fricking poison master ain’t no good if he ain’t bloody breathing is it some people don’t know how a body works can’t live without air he he can’t be shit no antidote can cure him anymore no hence why i let her try it it’s far more spread than last time what what yer mean nearly do it again keep going do it again adin amog i don’t think nothing can save him now shut up are any of the tauren healers yes kosul the one with more power i could erm give him a jolt of chi energy i’m not sure what more i can add to your efforts though i am here if you need assistance healing won’t matter much now we need to get him breathing keep pressing on his lungs may keep him going you have more strength than i do you have to try i cannot do this for long eh why not this venom is special quick and effective it will paralyze and destroy the heart within minutes i don’t there’s nothing an antidote can do anymore sadok please please open yer eyes if if i may so he be beyond help aye is he heck i’m not losing another give the orc some honour for Grom’s sake owachi lo rah balo nahe shne sho’wa ki ti’ha lakota alo halo ahmen sho’wa awak nahe abalo kee nahe eh it’s it’s not working damnit orc don’t you die on us hello the high blade is dead take my power ritual-master can i help well that’s me done he’s dead no red blade here try kalimdor it’s no use uh-huh who knew of the poison’s effects i can’t do anything any-more it be over you did all you could give the orc some honor i did right what do you want any particular people who use it it’s over karak it be futile just talk master orc just talk my power sharptongue is worth more to be alive than me and is it a paralytic poison by nature you did all you could it will have to wait a while but i'll be willing to hear what you have to say later it's not a rare type of poison dark magic stop give the orc some honor sturume an algos va wirsh ruff gol stop it oathbound o borne me ash—

—‘You go now to your final journey. You are free.’
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*Valley of Trials, Durotar, Third Day of the Second Cycle*

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The hot, dry wind stirred slightly, scattering clumps of red dust from the dirt-fields of Durotar into the air. Lazily laying on his back beneath a shady tree to escape the oppressive sun, a hoarsely-snoring peon chose the worst possible opportunity to inhale deeply. Instantly, his mouth was coated in a thin layer of coarse dust. On his next breath in, he seemed to suffocate.

The orc retched horrifically, springing wide awake. 'Ack! P-thooey! Ack-ack!' His garbled whooping continued on, as he rolled back and forth in a bout of hysterics; the dust-a ludicrous paroxysm. Hacking, the orc's arms and legs seemed to lose feeling as strange images passed through his mind. Luk's life seemed to flash before his very eyes; or that of someone else's.

Rain fell light but wet upon the forested plain. Looking briefly up to the skies, the wolfmasked female slid a stick of grey incense into the hastily-constructed pyre, seeming to light it with her very fingertips. Another, a chainmail-coiffed male garbed in garish accoutrements, slumped an orcish carcass upon the pyre. The coiffed orc lowered his head slowly and dejectedly, seemingly trying to stare a hole in the muddy ground. Two females, similarly attired in brownish furs and carrying hunting-bows, stand in solidarity. Other figures slowly gathered around, somewhat fuzzy and abstract. The wolfmasked female's lips slowly part, reverently beginning to intone her elegy. 'Lousy slacking peons,' she respectfully laments, 'I'll give ya what's good fer ya, ya shirkin' no-good son of a...!'

--THWACK!-- Luk's head seemed to explode. 'Agh! You horri— egh, what me do?!' the peon cried in utmost agony. Regaining his composure and articulation, Luk cried, 'Just was resting eyes! Back to work now!'

The surly taskmaster snorted, tossing the well-worn blackjack into the air with one calloused hand and absent-mindedly catching it with the other. 'Ya get back ta work or I get back ta smack,' he snarled, striking the tree Luk had slept beneath with the blackjack. The sun-dried branches shook back and forth at the riposte, as if terrified. Luk too trembled, his yellowed teeth chattering.

'Ok-k-key dokey, b-b-boss! I get back to tree-hitting right nowsies!' The peon frantically looked around for his axe, finding the dull stone implement laid carelessly upon the ground. Swinging back towards the tree, he returned to his harsh toil. Hours seemed to pass as he continued the same monotonous activity, felling branches and gathering them into bundles for firewood.

'Me take break 'fore me break,' the peon groaned. Wearily slumping against the pillow of piled firewood he had gathered, Luk yawned and slowly closed his eyes. The dry heat, the stony ground, the fatigue — everything seemed to melt away into the rain of a far-off land.

One of the bow-wearing females let out a weary sigh, placing a well-worn black wolfshelm into the hands of the fallen. Though still young, her face seemed to bear all the signs of grief and worry beyond her years. Her voice trembling, the orc began to speak. 'He was m'first tutor in the tribe. The first orc that truly befriended me. He became m'tutor and... oh, now you've gone and done it! Half a blasted horn I leave you! Lazy fecking bugger, why I oughta...!'

--THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!-- The taskmaster rained down strikes with the blackjack, bludgeoning Luk's skull, shoulders and back. Trying to shield himself, the pathetic peon curled up into a frail ball. 'Me sorry, boss! Just was resting eyes!' the orc screamed desperately. 'Me get back to work for good boss, yes!'

The taskmaster growled fiercely, smashing the blackjack so hard over Luk's cranium that it broke into two. 'Oh no you won't,' he spat, 'that's the very last time I deal with ya lazy arse! I'll have ya off to the new camps in the Barrens to slave under the Kor'kron!'
'No, boss! Me die there!'
'Such be as ya deserve! Ya won't have no kind master like me — no, they'll teach you some discipline,' he snarled, striking the peon in the ribs with one boot. Soaking up the punishment, the peon whimpered pathetically, curling tighter into a ball. As the taskmaster continued to pummel him, Luk slowly closed his eyes to try and escape within himself.

The rain fell hard now; hard and cruel upon the heads and shoulders of all those gathered. A musclebound veteran, clad in spiked plate, slammed his fist against his chest and bowed his head. 'He died as 'e lived, servin' th'tribe. Until 'is last breath.'

Luk let out a weak gasp, eyes springing open. His nostrils flared, detecting something like over-cooked pork. Licking his lips, the bruised peon raised himself up with an effort. Squinting through the acrid smoke, Luk recoiled, startled by the sight of the charred carcass before him!

The seared taskmaster writhed slowly on the ground. Blood boiling, his skin blistered and peeled, revealing the bone beneath. His arms had bore the worst of it — once sinewed and muscular, they scattered like ash on the hot breeze, leaving only blackened stumps. With a final pained moan, the writhing slowly ceased as the last drops of life were choked from the smoldering body.

With narrowed eyes, Luk smirked viciously at his former boss. Looking around suspiciously and taking his axe in both hands, he was content of the fact that there were no witnesses to be found. The half-melted carcass was dragged to the edge of the canyon, where its disfigurements might well be taken as the result of especially potent scorpid venom.

Exhaling contentedly, wily Luk's vigilant eyelids drooped once more as his posture returned to its familiar idle slouch. Returning to his resting place by the tree, the orc let out a buffoon's guffaw as he spoke to himself.

'Where boss go? Me no-know. Just peon. Work-work.'

((To be continued?))