Vargosh Bloodrend, The Hate of his Life
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Vargosh Bloodrend, The Hate of his Life
by Guest Fri Jan 29, 2010 1:46 pm
In this topic I will post all Vargosh related stories I made / will make.
P.S I'm not a god at writing, but I consider it decent and readable at the least!
One is allowed to post the thoughts of my stories.
For he is to return folks!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
The Beast
Trees, bushes, rocks. He ran and ran, avoiding and ducking.
His breath was quick and frigthened.
The cold night lashed him in the face as he ran for his life.
He could still hear the yells.. "Fall back..."
As he ran through the woods his mind went back to earlier.
A beastial roar deafened the men. What was this? They had come here to aid the wizards in their rebuilding and to thwart the undead threat.
But this was no undead, this was so much worse.
"Fall back!" He heard a comrade yell, as he started to run, a big mithril glad hand held him back, and a firm "No!" came through the deafening roars and yells.
It was the Captain.
An old man, yet strong and disciplined.
The man charged slamming his shield in the beast's chest, with little result.
The sword flew through the air swiftly, aimed at the head. But the beast managed to avoid it, yet its eye was sliced blind. But this was far from stopping it.
"Yaargh!" The Captain charges again, but this time the beast was ready. Grabbing him by his throat, lifting him up a few meters.
The Captain's face was inches from the beasts. Yet the man showed no fear.
The beast slammed the mans face into a rock. Crushing the entire skull. Blood poured out of the head, soaking the beasts body, it was as if the beast was smirking while doing it.
The Captain died with an inhumane twitch.
"Hhh...uhhh..hhh..."
He had to find a hiding place. He could hear the thundering roars behind himself. The yells of his comrades had ended long ago.
He was hunted.
He quickly swooped down behind a tree.
He clutched his arms around his knees. Everything had gone quiet. So quiet.
Not even the wind, nor the critters of the forest could be heard.
Nothing.
Then, heavy footsteps just next to him came, and the large beast walked past him, sniffing, and looking.
The man held his breath.
The beast kept walking to the opposite direction.
"Phew... So close." He covered his face in his knees.
"Rrrooaaaaaarrggh!"
The man looked up terrified. And there the beast was, the huge muscled beast. Its eye was red and vicious locked with a death grip at himself. The eye was showing no other signs than Bloodthirst, and hate.
The mouth filled with tusks and blood, dripping blood. The sight was the most horrible he had ever seen, no undead, no orc, not even the few demons he had seen, had looked that monsterous, that enraged, that horrifiyng.
It charged at him, he could feel how the giant hand grabbed his head and body. He gulped and prayed to the light, but in vain.
His head was litterally ripped off his body.
The beast watched how blood and entrails poured into the air and turned the ground red.
The blood sprayed the air, making it rain of red fluid.
The beasts let's go off the body parts. There they lie on the ground, soaked in blood.
It beast paints its own face with the blood.
It looks down at its own hands, covered in blood.
"It was never meant to come to this.. She be what prevented it..."
The beast roars a yell out. More deafening than any other.
"Grom-damn ye, I will have me revenge!"
Blood had been rended, humans had died. By the fists of Rock.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Vargosh were jabbing at the dummy, swiftly, with great motion.
His mind was in a completely different place, all he could think about was one, grom-damned, cursed she-orc.
She and her green slender skin, that purple bushy hair and blue eyes, as blue and mircalous as the Oasis of the Barrnes.
He hated her, he loved her, he wanted her dead, he wanted her back.
He punched more rapidly, and with alot more force.
"I hate ye!!!"
He roured out and punched more fiercly.
All he thought about was those two pups, those pups that stopped him from having her.
He couldn't accept it, he couldn't believe it, all it did was giving him rage, all he wanted was to get rid off them.
They creep in his mind, they haunt his every step. For every step he take is alone, they are alone because the orc he loved, was not his, because of just those two fouled pups.
The pups of Osan.
That weak.. pathetic.. little orc, nothing but a mere punk, had barely experienced life!
No. It was all wrong, all against him. All was hate.
Suddenly he hears in the distance kids laughing and yapping, as he looked to his back, he saw two oprhan orclings run around playing.
The scene suddenly changed, he saw an image, it was two slightly larger younglings, Mok'Nathal pups.
Next to them was their mother, an she-orc so stunning in view most males would dry out, and howl.
This she-orc, looked at him and smiled, she waved for him to come to them.
But the image faded. His family, would never come to that. He had none.
None.
The word echoed in his head.
Vargosh let's out one of his thundering roars, deafning the entire valley.
He slams his fists together and smashes the Dummy in those pieces, tree shards scattering into the air.
Vargosh falls to his knees, looking down into his now open palms.
"What have become of me..?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Vargosh slowly headed for the Inn.
He had never had a mead, an ale, in his life. Or atleast for thirty years.
He felt like time had come to change that.
As he sat down on a bar stool, and started to drink from the ale an old troll approached him.
"Wat be troublin' ya'Mok'Nathal?"
Vargosh looks at the troll, with a rather puzzled look.
"Ah, ya be supris' I be 'nowin' ya be on' of da Mok'Nathal? I 'now 'lot of ya'kind.
I be see' ya be troubled? W'y be dat?"
Vargosh that wasn't used to kindness by strangers nor being adressed as a Mok'Nathal replied.
"I be having problems with them she-orcs."
The troll took a blow of his pipe, probably one with drugs.
"Ahh, dem ladies be problem fo' da Mok'Nathal?
If id be somet'in' I 'now mon, id be dat dem ladies alway' 'ome an' go."
"Well, this she-orc, Mazguul, she was me mate. But she came not long ago tell me she have some other orcs pups. Pregnant."
Vargosh sighs, and takes another clunk of the ale.
"I be not jealous, them she-orc only lie, but reckon them whores do.
How could it ever be us two? Not sure if I love her enough ter trust her.."
The troll nods, knowingly.
Vargosh continues.
"All this hate, all the rage.. So many have to die to end it. For a while.."
The troll places his hand on Vargosh shoulder and speaks.
"Bu' mon, ya be a Mok'Nathal. Ya be a'honourable figt'er mon. Do'nae let dem 'ate control ya."
Vargosh nods, and yet again, takes another clunk.
The troll wrinkles his nose, and then giggles.
"It seem' I be havin' to take a 'ee."
He slowly walks out of the inn.
Vargosh chugs the ale and is about to turn around when an young orc next to him starts to talk.
"Mazguul eh? Aye, she be one fine she-orc, pummeled her hard! Understand why she left you, an ogre and all!"
Vargosh freezes on the spot, his entire face turns into pure rage, hate, bloodthirst.
He smashes his fist into the face of the orc, the orc falls to the ground, Vargosh dives down and starts jabbing fists into his face.
The sound of knuckles hitting flesh.
The sound of an orc getting beaten's paniced, yet slow breathing.
The sound of gushing blood drips on to the ground, and soaking Vargosh face.
The sound of bones, and tusks cracking, more and more, harder and harder.
And then, the sound of knuckles hitting dead meat.
Nothing more, no breathing.
Vargosh starts to regain control of himself, as he stands up he can see the barmaid, a female troll with a bow and an arrowed nocked aimed at his own head.
Different beings staring at him, shocked.
He looks down at his hands, that is filled with the orcs, and his own blood.
Wounds on the knuckles can be seen too.
He suddenly realise what he had done, taken the life of another orc.
He ran out with haste, affraid of what he had done.
When he reached the pool in the Valley of Honour he looked at his own reflection.
"What is this monster I have become?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
His fist in your face!
The roar. The yell. The cracks.
The skull. The face. The bones.
CRACK!
The thundering roar. The birds lifts from the tree tops in horror.
The strength of such a roar can be heard miles away.
The troll, fell, dead.
It's face had been punched into itself, sunked into its existance.
The gigantic monster towering above the corpse. It roars again, charging.
BAM!
Two trolls falls to the ground, tackled by the huge monsterousity.
Plate. Boot. Foot.
Another face is put into shreds. The immense weight crushing it.
The other, about to get to its feet. Cleaved in half.
What was this monster. The dark night did not reveal much. But one thing. An eye glimmering in the dark, the red hatred dancing in the night's blackness.
Another thundering roar. It blocks an incoming attack from a mace. And counters with another cleave.
The troll falls into two halves.
Blood, pouring out, like the crushing waves of the sea. Painting the monster and the ground red.
The satisfaction. Revenge.. death.
The monster gets hit in its back and loses grip of its axe.
Turning around, a fierce troll facing him.
He jams his plated fist into its face. It falls to the ground from the force behind the punch.
This one, too, dead.
"If he is ter affraid ter fight, SOME TROLL, had ter pay!"
Another thundering roar crushes through the jungle, sending animals away in fear.
Azuta looks up into the sky at the birds that hastily flies away. She then turns her gaze towards the direction of the sound. A worried look on her face.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Here's the wiki for Varg, not so updated. But his background story lies within it.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]
P.S I'm not a god at writing, but I consider it decent and readable at the least!
One is allowed to post the thoughts of my stories.
For he is to return folks!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
The Beast
Trees, bushes, rocks. He ran and ran, avoiding and ducking.
His breath was quick and frigthened.
The cold night lashed him in the face as he ran for his life.
He could still hear the yells.. "Fall back..."
As he ran through the woods his mind went back to earlier.
A beastial roar deafened the men. What was this? They had come here to aid the wizards in their rebuilding and to thwart the undead threat.
But this was no undead, this was so much worse.
"Fall back!" He heard a comrade yell, as he started to run, a big mithril glad hand held him back, and a firm "No!" came through the deafening roars and yells.
It was the Captain.
An old man, yet strong and disciplined.
The man charged slamming his shield in the beast's chest, with little result.
The sword flew through the air swiftly, aimed at the head. But the beast managed to avoid it, yet its eye was sliced blind. But this was far from stopping it.
"Yaargh!" The Captain charges again, but this time the beast was ready. Grabbing him by his throat, lifting him up a few meters.
The Captain's face was inches from the beasts. Yet the man showed no fear.
The beast slammed the mans face into a rock. Crushing the entire skull. Blood poured out of the head, soaking the beasts body, it was as if the beast was smirking while doing it.
The Captain died with an inhumane twitch.
"Hhh...uhhh..hhh..."
He had to find a hiding place. He could hear the thundering roars behind himself. The yells of his comrades had ended long ago.
He was hunted.
He quickly swooped down behind a tree.
He clutched his arms around his knees. Everything had gone quiet. So quiet.
Not even the wind, nor the critters of the forest could be heard.
Nothing.
Then, heavy footsteps just next to him came, and the large beast walked past him, sniffing, and looking.
The man held his breath.
The beast kept walking to the opposite direction.
"Phew... So close." He covered his face in his knees.
"Rrrooaaaaaarrggh!"
The man looked up terrified. And there the beast was, the huge muscled beast. Its eye was red and vicious locked with a death grip at himself. The eye was showing no other signs than Bloodthirst, and hate.
The mouth filled with tusks and blood, dripping blood. The sight was the most horrible he had ever seen, no undead, no orc, not even the few demons he had seen, had looked that monsterous, that enraged, that horrifiyng.
It charged at him, he could feel how the giant hand grabbed his head and body. He gulped and prayed to the light, but in vain.
His head was litterally ripped off his body.
The beast watched how blood and entrails poured into the air and turned the ground red.
The blood sprayed the air, making it rain of red fluid.
The beasts let's go off the body parts. There they lie on the ground, soaked in blood.
It beast paints its own face with the blood.
It looks down at its own hands, covered in blood.
"It was never meant to come to this.. She be what prevented it..."
The beast roars a yell out. More deafening than any other.
"Grom-damn ye, I will have me revenge!"
Blood had been rended, humans had died. By the fists of Rock.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Vargosh were jabbing at the dummy, swiftly, with great motion.
His mind was in a completely different place, all he could think about was one, grom-damned, cursed she-orc.
She and her green slender skin, that purple bushy hair and blue eyes, as blue and mircalous as the Oasis of the Barrnes.
He hated her, he loved her, he wanted her dead, he wanted her back.
He punched more rapidly, and with alot more force.
"I hate ye!!!"
He roured out and punched more fiercly.
All he thought about was those two pups, those pups that stopped him from having her.
He couldn't accept it, he couldn't believe it, all it did was giving him rage, all he wanted was to get rid off them.
They creep in his mind, they haunt his every step. For every step he take is alone, they are alone because the orc he loved, was not his, because of just those two fouled pups.
The pups of Osan.
That weak.. pathetic.. little orc, nothing but a mere punk, had barely experienced life!
No. It was all wrong, all against him. All was hate.
Suddenly he hears in the distance kids laughing and yapping, as he looked to his back, he saw two oprhan orclings run around playing.
The scene suddenly changed, he saw an image, it was two slightly larger younglings, Mok'Nathal pups.
Next to them was their mother, an she-orc so stunning in view most males would dry out, and howl.
This she-orc, looked at him and smiled, she waved for him to come to them.
But the image faded. His family, would never come to that. He had none.
None.
The word echoed in his head.
Vargosh let's out one of his thundering roars, deafning the entire valley.
He slams his fists together and smashes the Dummy in those pieces, tree shards scattering into the air.
Vargosh falls to his knees, looking down into his now open palms.
"What have become of me..?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Vargosh slowly headed for the Inn.
He had never had a mead, an ale, in his life. Or atleast for thirty years.
He felt like time had come to change that.
As he sat down on a bar stool, and started to drink from the ale an old troll approached him.
"Wat be troublin' ya'Mok'Nathal?"
Vargosh looks at the troll, with a rather puzzled look.
"Ah, ya be supris' I be 'nowin' ya be on' of da Mok'Nathal? I 'now 'lot of ya'kind.
I be see' ya be troubled? W'y be dat?"
Vargosh that wasn't used to kindness by strangers nor being adressed as a Mok'Nathal replied.
"I be having problems with them she-orcs."
The troll took a blow of his pipe, probably one with drugs.
"Ahh, dem ladies be problem fo' da Mok'Nathal?
If id be somet'in' I 'now mon, id be dat dem ladies alway' 'ome an' go."
"Well, this she-orc, Mazguul, she was me mate. But she came not long ago tell me she have some other orcs pups. Pregnant."
Vargosh sighs, and takes another clunk of the ale.
"I be not jealous, them she-orc only lie, but reckon them whores do.
How could it ever be us two? Not sure if I love her enough ter trust her.."
The troll nods, knowingly.
Vargosh continues.
"All this hate, all the rage.. So many have to die to end it. For a while.."
The troll places his hand on Vargosh shoulder and speaks.
"Bu' mon, ya be a Mok'Nathal. Ya be a'honourable figt'er mon. Do'nae let dem 'ate control ya."
Vargosh nods, and yet again, takes another clunk.
The troll wrinkles his nose, and then giggles.
"It seem' I be havin' to take a 'ee."
He slowly walks out of the inn.
Vargosh chugs the ale and is about to turn around when an young orc next to him starts to talk.
"Mazguul eh? Aye, she be one fine she-orc, pummeled her hard! Understand why she left you, an ogre and all!"
Vargosh freezes on the spot, his entire face turns into pure rage, hate, bloodthirst.
He smashes his fist into the face of the orc, the orc falls to the ground, Vargosh dives down and starts jabbing fists into his face.
The sound of knuckles hitting flesh.
The sound of an orc getting beaten's paniced, yet slow breathing.
The sound of gushing blood drips on to the ground, and soaking Vargosh face.
The sound of bones, and tusks cracking, more and more, harder and harder.
And then, the sound of knuckles hitting dead meat.
Nothing more, no breathing.
Vargosh starts to regain control of himself, as he stands up he can see the barmaid, a female troll with a bow and an arrowed nocked aimed at his own head.
Different beings staring at him, shocked.
He looks down at his hands, that is filled with the orcs, and his own blood.
Wounds on the knuckles can be seen too.
He suddenly realise what he had done, taken the life of another orc.
He ran out with haste, affraid of what he had done.
When he reached the pool in the Valley of Honour he looked at his own reflection.
"What is this monster I have become?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
His fist in your face!
The roar. The yell. The cracks.
The skull. The face. The bones.
CRACK!
The thundering roar. The birds lifts from the tree tops in horror.
The strength of such a roar can be heard miles away.
The troll, fell, dead.
It's face had been punched into itself, sunked into its existance.
The gigantic monster towering above the corpse. It roars again, charging.
BAM!
Two trolls falls to the ground, tackled by the huge monsterousity.
Plate. Boot. Foot.
Another face is put into shreds. The immense weight crushing it.
The other, about to get to its feet. Cleaved in half.
What was this monster. The dark night did not reveal much. But one thing. An eye glimmering in the dark, the red hatred dancing in the night's blackness.
Another thundering roar. It blocks an incoming attack from a mace. And counters with another cleave.
The troll falls into two halves.
Blood, pouring out, like the crushing waves of the sea. Painting the monster and the ground red.
The satisfaction. Revenge.. death.
The monster gets hit in its back and loses grip of its axe.
Turning around, a fierce troll facing him.
He jams his plated fist into its face. It falls to the ground from the force behind the punch.
This one, too, dead.
"If he is ter affraid ter fight, SOME TROLL, had ter pay!"
Another thundering roar crushes through the jungle, sending animals away in fear.
Azuta looks up into the sky at the birds that hastily flies away. She then turns her gaze towards the direction of the sound. A worried look on her face.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Here's the wiki for Varg, not so updated. But his background story lies within it.
[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]
Guest- Guest
Elízabéth Moren- Posts : 839
Join date : 2010-01-29
Age : 28
Location : A bush in Renhali's backyard.
Re: Vargosh Bloodrend, The Hate of his Life
by Guest Sat Mar 13, 2010 6:57 pm
Adding a piece I forgot!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Consuming Truth
"What could you offer him? Love? Care?!"
"Turgash, don't do it! Ye really want Vargosh to grow up like this?!"
"Bah, I be giving him the proper life! The one of a warriors!"
Turgash charges again, holding his one-hand axe ready, Smashing it into Magrokh's axe.
But as he does he had drew his dagger which is used to puncture the throat of the other Mok'Nathal.
Vargosh stares at his father, as he slowly falls to his knees, trying to block the blood flow.
~~
Vargosh comes back to reality, blocking the incoming attack just in time.
He roars, a thundering roar from the deepest part of his lunges. His roars had grown quite frightening the last couple of days.
Bashes his head into the humans, knocking it out.
He then stompts its face in.
Vargosh mutters to himself.
"He be right. Diffuse emotions is worthless in this world."
Vargosh leaps at the next humans that comes charging at him. Cleaving it in half with his giant axe.
In the distance four to five humans comes running towards him, as he prepares himself for the fight. He blacksout.
~~
"You pathetic cretin. Why are you wasting your life in the pitfights?!
Take arms! Fight our enemies! Join the orcs and their Horde!"
"Turgash, I be damned well doing as I please with me life!"
The Older Mok'Nathal looks down at the teenager Mok'Nathal, his nephew.
"Don't come to me when your life get's shit, pup."
~~
"Vargosh, snap out of it. She's a whore. I told you that already.
She's not worth it."
"But.. I.. she means so much fer me!
She made me better, not all about wa-"
"Are you daft?! Go to war, rise in ranks in the tribe.
Become a Rrosh-tul, I know you can."
"Aye.. I be.. fer ye Gnash!"
~~
Vargosh wakes up, lying on the ground, it's several hours since the humans came running at him.
As he peers around, he actually sees them lying there, dead next to him.
He rubs his head. Grumbling.
"What is happening.. Dreams of Gnash and me uncle.."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Consuming Truth
"What could you offer him? Love? Care?!"
"Turgash, don't do it! Ye really want Vargosh to grow up like this?!"
"Bah, I be giving him the proper life! The one of a warriors!"
Turgash charges again, holding his one-hand axe ready, Smashing it into Magrokh's axe.
But as he does he had drew his dagger which is used to puncture the throat of the other Mok'Nathal.
Vargosh stares at his father, as he slowly falls to his knees, trying to block the blood flow.
~~
Vargosh comes back to reality, blocking the incoming attack just in time.
He roars, a thundering roar from the deepest part of his lunges. His roars had grown quite frightening the last couple of days.
Bashes his head into the humans, knocking it out.
He then stompts its face in.
Vargosh mutters to himself.
"He be right. Diffuse emotions is worthless in this world."
Vargosh leaps at the next humans that comes charging at him. Cleaving it in half with his giant axe.
In the distance four to five humans comes running towards him, as he prepares himself for the fight. He blacksout.
~~
"You pathetic cretin. Why are you wasting your life in the pitfights?!
Take arms! Fight our enemies! Join the orcs and their Horde!"
"Turgash, I be damned well doing as I please with me life!"
The Older Mok'Nathal looks down at the teenager Mok'Nathal, his nephew.
"Don't come to me when your life get's shit, pup."
~~
"Vargosh, snap out of it. She's a whore. I told you that already.
She's not worth it."
"But.. I.. she means so much fer me!
She made me better, not all about wa-"
"Are you daft?! Go to war, rise in ranks in the tribe.
Become a Rrosh-tul, I know you can."
"Aye.. I be.. fer ye Gnash!"
~~
Vargosh wakes up, lying on the ground, it's several hours since the humans came running at him.
As he peers around, he actually sees them lying there, dead next to him.
He rubs his head. Grumbling.
"What is happening.. Dreams of Gnash and me uncle.."
Guest- Guest
Aadaria-Ioanna- Posts : 835
Join date : 2010-01-31
Age : 38
Location : Norway, Sandefjord
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Elízabéth Moren- Posts : 839
Join date : 2010-01-29
Age : 28
Location : A bush in Renhali's backyard.
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