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Jodo Kast's Savage Tidings (Updated July 9, 2007)
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<blockquote data-quote="Jodo Kast" data-source="post: 3387793" data-attributes="member: 4810"><p><strong>Scion of Orcus: A Savage Interlude</strong></p><p></p><p><em>Already a member of a savage, brutal people, Gaulish descended into depravity that even other orcs shunned. Reared to replace her mother as Medicine Woman for her tribe, she found her submissive roll in the orcish hierarchy far too restrictive to suit her ambitions. Still, loud and restive priests were not tolerated in a culture that barely counted itself as religious. She likely would have lived a life of quiet desperation, resigned to her role in the tribe. Fate, however, had different plans for her.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Change came in the form of a human raiding party that attacked her tribe's cavern complex. They were stopped after being trapped in the antechamber of the tribe's shrine to Gruumsh, where she lived. Only one of the humans, some form of magic-user, was captured alive. The tribe had lost dozens of its warriors to the humans, and it was infuriated. The High Shaman placated the bloodlust the best way he could -- the remaining interloper would be slowly and tortuously sacrificed to Gruumsh during the next Festival of the Eye, two moons hence. The tribe set about recovering from its Pyrrhic victory.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>As chief acolyte, Gaulish was to tend to the captive until the sacrifice. She was to make sure he did not die, and she was to remind him daily of his ultimate and gruesome fate. But her conduct did not follow orcish scripture. His abilities, which she had witnessed first hand in the courtyard as he vainly fought off her tribemates, intrigued her and rekindled her long-repressed ambition. Her daily scoldings quickly turned into interrogations.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The captured sorcerer, for his part, quickly realized that this orc priestess could only be a divine gift of fate. He had always used his natural charm to manipulate those around him. Such an alien, savage creature posed a massive challenge -- especially given the urgency of the situation -- but he set about seducing her nonetheless. The interrogations quickly became conversations, and conversation turned into sermonizing about the divinity he followed faithfully and the artifact he sought that would justify the righteousness of his cause. Finally, mere days before he was to be slaughtered, he had converted Gaulish over to his cause. She was no longer his captor -- she was his disciple and lover. They set about freeing him and showing her tribe the true way forward.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>He imparted to Gaulish his final secret -- the reason why her tribe had been so drawn to the caverns they now called home. Below the lowest levels of their home there was another, far older and forgotten complex dedicated to his god. Together they murdered the guards blocking their path as they descended deeper into the tunnels below the orcish complex than any orc had ever dared go.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The Festival of the Eye that year was the last one ever celebrated by the orcs of that tribe. Those old enough to remember could only recollect brief, bloody images...</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>... Of the entire tribe crying in shock and disbelief as the rotting corpses of their dead flooded into the temple complex.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>... Of the High Shaman and the Warlord being ripped limb from limb by the silent, shambling horde.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>... Of Gaulish striding triumphantly into the antechamber, followed by the now-freed human captive and holding aloft an obsidian goat skull and proclaiming that justice had finally returned to the tribe, that the sins and heretical crimes of the leaders had finally been avenged, and that the true way forward had been revealed to her by the true patron of the tribe, Orcus the goat lord.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>... Of Gaulish laughing hysterically as the rotted army slaughtered any of the tribe that dared raise their voice in protest, including her own mother.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Fully a third of the tribe had been purged by the end of that long, blood-soaked day. Any orc that protested was killed, along with his mate, his children and his parents. Whole bloodlines were expunged as any strong-willed objector or potential rival of the new regime was eliminated. All who were left mutely bowed in disbelief and gut-clenching fear. The demented and blasphemous history of the Black Ram tribe began that day.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>**********************************************************************************</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gauruloc was born later that year to the new high priestess and her human consort. Like Gaulish, he was raised to be the high priest that would take her place. He was steeped in the profane and horrific traditions of a demon prince, and he was considered blessed to be the offspring of a prophet to his tribe and his race. But in a strange and ironic way, Gauruloc was too much like his mother. He was unsatisfied too.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gauruloc didn't desire more power -- he had all the power in the tribe, truthfully. No, Gauruloc felt unfulfilled, but he couldn't quite understand why. The profane rituals he committed to memory felt oddly disturbing, as if they were at odds with his nature as an orc (well, half an orc, though he was far too important and revered to be thought of that way by the tribe). That's not to say that Gauruloc felt any sort of yearning for compassion or decency- he was as savage and pitiless as any orc warrior in his tribe. In fact, the best explanation that he could muster was that the ferocity and brutality inherent in his soul clashed with the calculating, sinister corruption that was Orcus. Like his mother, though, Gauruloc buried his conflicted nature and tried to serve his mother as best he could.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Fate this time chose an almost absurd instrument of change. An elf hunting party had been ambushed by Black Ram marauders, and the lone survivor, a female elf hunter, had been brought back to the temple of Orcus to be sacrificed to the demonlord six days hence. Gauruloc, the first full priest of Orcus to be ordinated since the tribe's conversion, was given the honor of sacrificing her by his mother. He was to oversee her torture and ultimate demise as his final rite of passage into the new priesthood.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Even as the elf was brought into Gauruloc's chambers that first night he could barely contain his rage and indignation. Once the Temple Guard left them alone he unleashed his fury upon the elf in a verbal tirade. If it was up to him, he informed her in barely coherent orcish, he would have left her bloodied corpse upon the battlefield as testament to the power of the orc. Instead, he was about to be forced into a ritual he found profoundly cowardly, pointless and disturbing. His diatribe went on for hours, until his broken, hoarse throat could barely muster another syllable.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The stunned elf replied in turn, her insults and savage indignation building as she found her bravery. Gauruloc was left stunned and disheartened. This was a worthy enemy, one who deserved to be slaughtered, not forced to become a sacrifice to his demented god. The idea of torturing her left him almost nauseous. The elf realized that this orc was at least different from the dark, profane monsters that had butchered her party in a veritable orgy. Here at least was an honest savage. Argument followed tirade. Debate followed argument. Finally, conversation followed debate. Three days later, Gauruloc had been taught about elven culture, custom and faith, and he had nothing he could reply with that did not shame him. His inner conflict exploded into his mind and for the first time he faced the realization that he had been raised to follow an unnatural faith, a belief at odds with anything that could be considered intuitive.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Gauruloc made the first decision he ever felt proud about -- this elf would not be slaughtered as a sacrifice to his twisted patron. Neither would he let his demented mother bring her back as some sort of blasphemous rotting soldier. He tricked and ambushed the temple guards watching his room and freed the elf. They killed another half-dozen orcs during their flight. Gauruloc's heart sang with joy. Here was an orc's true call- slaughter with purpose, savagery as expression of his true self. The pair fled into the woods where they faced their last obstacle -- a half-dozen Black Ram skirmishers confused that their chosen prophet was helping their one truest enemy and chosen gift to Orcus escape. The combat was short, bloody and fierce. At the end, Gauruloc stood over the dead bodies of his kin and the corpse of the elf, who had died with the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. He realized then his new path in life. Orcus was a monster, a blot upon nature that deserved nothing from his people or any other. But Gruumsh had failed, too. If the High Shaman had followed his nature rather than Gruumsh's will, the human blasphemer would never have had the chance to corrupt his tribe. Who could he follow? He bent down, snapped the cord holding the wooden holy symbol of the elf's chosen god, Corellon Larethian, and tied it around his neck. Here was a god that had stayed true to the nature of his followers. Larethian might be a contemptible elf god, but at least he wasn't a hypocrite or a self-serving boor. From now on he would be named Gauruloc Au'Nast, the reborn one.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>**********************************************************************************</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The elven sentries were stunned by the appearance of an orc wearing the holy symbol of their highest god and claiming an elvish surname, however strangely translated it was. They were even more bewildered when his healing prayers to Corellon were answered as proof of his intent. They listened mutely as he detailed the location of the demon-worshipping orc tribe that they had been at war with for the past four years. They could only stare dumbfounded as he walked back into the woods and vanished forever from their realm.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>One week later a massive elven assault forever silenced the debauchery of the Black Ram orc tribe. The elven general, at first nearly terrified that he was walking into a trap, could only thank Corellon silently as his warriors utilized secret passages described by the sentries who had talked to the wandering orc to catch the orcish tribe in a near-perfect trap. What would have been a desperate battle turned into a one-sided slaughter. He had personally dispatched the high priestess, felling her as she chanted hysterically to whatever dark lord she followed. No one encountered the bearded human the orc traitor had described, though, and the obsidian artifact the orc had asked the elves to shatter was either gone or had never been there. At twilight the elven clerics blessed the blasphemous altar, causing it to disintegrate into a thousand tiny shards, and the magi used their magic to collapse the entire complex, forever sealing it to the world.</em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Jodo Kast, post: 3387793, member: 4810"] [b]Scion of Orcus: A Savage Interlude[/b] [I]Already a member of a savage, brutal people, Gaulish descended into depravity that even other orcs shunned. Reared to replace her mother as Medicine Woman for her tribe, she found her submissive roll in the orcish hierarchy far too restrictive to suit her ambitions. Still, loud and restive priests were not tolerated in a culture that barely counted itself as religious. She likely would have lived a life of quiet desperation, resigned to her role in the tribe. Fate, however, had different plans for her. Change came in the form of a human raiding party that attacked her tribe's cavern complex. They were stopped after being trapped in the antechamber of the tribe's shrine to Gruumsh, where she lived. Only one of the humans, some form of magic-user, was captured alive. The tribe had lost dozens of its warriors to the humans, and it was infuriated. The High Shaman placated the bloodlust the best way he could -- the remaining interloper would be slowly and tortuously sacrificed to Gruumsh during the next Festival of the Eye, two moons hence. The tribe set about recovering from its Pyrrhic victory. As chief acolyte, Gaulish was to tend to the captive until the sacrifice. She was to make sure he did not die, and she was to remind him daily of his ultimate and gruesome fate. But her conduct did not follow orcish scripture. His abilities, which she had witnessed first hand in the courtyard as he vainly fought off her tribemates, intrigued her and rekindled her long-repressed ambition. Her daily scoldings quickly turned into interrogations. The captured sorcerer, for his part, quickly realized that this orc priestess could only be a divine gift of fate. He had always used his natural charm to manipulate those around him. Such an alien, savage creature posed a massive challenge -- especially given the urgency of the situation -- but he set about seducing her nonetheless. The interrogations quickly became conversations, and conversation turned into sermonizing about the divinity he followed faithfully and the artifact he sought that would justify the righteousness of his cause. Finally, mere days before he was to be slaughtered, he had converted Gaulish over to his cause. She was no longer his captor -- she was his disciple and lover. They set about freeing him and showing her tribe the true way forward. He imparted to Gaulish his final secret -- the reason why her tribe had been so drawn to the caverns they now called home. Below the lowest levels of their home there was another, far older and forgotten complex dedicated to his god. Together they murdered the guards blocking their path as they descended deeper into the tunnels below the orcish complex than any orc had ever dared go. The Festival of the Eye that year was the last one ever celebrated by the orcs of that tribe. Those old enough to remember could only recollect brief, bloody images... ... Of the entire tribe crying in shock and disbelief as the rotting corpses of their dead flooded into the temple complex. ... Of the High Shaman and the Warlord being ripped limb from limb by the silent, shambling horde. ... Of Gaulish striding triumphantly into the antechamber, followed by the now-freed human captive and holding aloft an obsidian goat skull and proclaiming that justice had finally returned to the tribe, that the sins and heretical crimes of the leaders had finally been avenged, and that the true way forward had been revealed to her by the true patron of the tribe, Orcus the goat lord. ... Of Gaulish laughing hysterically as the rotted army slaughtered any of the tribe that dared raise their voice in protest, including her own mother. Fully a third of the tribe had been purged by the end of that long, blood-soaked day. Any orc that protested was killed, along with his mate, his children and his parents. Whole bloodlines were expunged as any strong-willed objector or potential rival of the new regime was eliminated. All who were left mutely bowed in disbelief and gut-clenching fear. The demented and blasphemous history of the Black Ram tribe began that day. ********************************************************************************** Gauruloc was born later that year to the new high priestess and her human consort. Like Gaulish, he was raised to be the high priest that would take her place. He was steeped in the profane and horrific traditions of a demon prince, and he was considered blessed to be the offspring of a prophet to his tribe and his race. But in a strange and ironic way, Gauruloc was too much like his mother. He was unsatisfied too. Gauruloc didn't desire more power -- he had all the power in the tribe, truthfully. No, Gauruloc felt unfulfilled, but he couldn't quite understand why. The profane rituals he committed to memory felt oddly disturbing, as if they were at odds with his nature as an orc (well, half an orc, though he was far too important and revered to be thought of that way by the tribe). That's not to say that Gauruloc felt any sort of yearning for compassion or decency- he was as savage and pitiless as any orc warrior in his tribe. In fact, the best explanation that he could muster was that the ferocity and brutality inherent in his soul clashed with the calculating, sinister corruption that was Orcus. Like his mother, though, Gauruloc buried his conflicted nature and tried to serve his mother as best he could. Fate this time chose an almost absurd instrument of change. An elf hunting party had been ambushed by Black Ram marauders, and the lone survivor, a female elf hunter, had been brought back to the temple of Orcus to be sacrificed to the demonlord six days hence. Gauruloc, the first full priest of Orcus to be ordinated since the tribe's conversion, was given the honor of sacrificing her by his mother. He was to oversee her torture and ultimate demise as his final rite of passage into the new priesthood. Even as the elf was brought into Gauruloc's chambers that first night he could barely contain his rage and indignation. Once the Temple Guard left them alone he unleashed his fury upon the elf in a verbal tirade. If it was up to him, he informed her in barely coherent orcish, he would have left her bloodied corpse upon the battlefield as testament to the power of the orc. Instead, he was about to be forced into a ritual he found profoundly cowardly, pointless and disturbing. His diatribe went on for hours, until his broken, hoarse throat could barely muster another syllable. The stunned elf replied in turn, her insults and savage indignation building as she found her bravery. Gauruloc was left stunned and disheartened. This was a worthy enemy, one who deserved to be slaughtered, not forced to become a sacrifice to his demented god. The idea of torturing her left him almost nauseous. The elf realized that this orc was at least different from the dark, profane monsters that had butchered her party in a veritable orgy. Here at least was an honest savage. Argument followed tirade. Debate followed argument. Finally, conversation followed debate. Three days later, Gauruloc had been taught about elven culture, custom and faith, and he had nothing he could reply with that did not shame him. His inner conflict exploded into his mind and for the first time he faced the realization that he had been raised to follow an unnatural faith, a belief at odds with anything that could be considered intuitive. Gauruloc made the first decision he ever felt proud about -- this elf would not be slaughtered as a sacrifice to his twisted patron. Neither would he let his demented mother bring her back as some sort of blasphemous rotting soldier. He tricked and ambushed the temple guards watching his room and freed the elf. They killed another half-dozen orcs during their flight. Gauruloc's heart sang with joy. Here was an orc's true call- slaughter with purpose, savagery as expression of his true self. The pair fled into the woods where they faced their last obstacle -- a half-dozen Black Ram skirmishers confused that their chosen prophet was helping their one truest enemy and chosen gift to Orcus escape. The combat was short, bloody and fierce. At the end, Gauruloc stood over the dead bodies of his kin and the corpse of the elf, who had died with the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. He realized then his new path in life. Orcus was a monster, a blot upon nature that deserved nothing from his people or any other. But Gruumsh had failed, too. If the High Shaman had followed his nature rather than Gruumsh's will, the human blasphemer would never have had the chance to corrupt his tribe. Who could he follow? He bent down, snapped the cord holding the wooden holy symbol of the elf's chosen god, Corellon Larethian, and tied it around his neck. Here was a god that had stayed true to the nature of his followers. Larethian might be a contemptible elf god, but at least he wasn't a hypocrite or a self-serving boor. From now on he would be named Gauruloc Au'Nast, the reborn one. ********************************************************************************** The elven sentries were stunned by the appearance of an orc wearing the holy symbol of their highest god and claiming an elvish surname, however strangely translated it was. They were even more bewildered when his healing prayers to Corellon were answered as proof of his intent. They listened mutely as he detailed the location of the demon-worshipping orc tribe that they had been at war with for the past four years. They could only stare dumbfounded as he walked back into the woods and vanished forever from their realm. One week later a massive elven assault forever silenced the debauchery of the Black Ram orc tribe. The elven general, at first nearly terrified that he was walking into a trap, could only thank Corellon silently as his warriors utilized secret passages described by the sentries who had talked to the wandering orc to catch the orcish tribe in a near-perfect trap. What would have been a desperate battle turned into a one-sided slaughter. He had personally dispatched the high priestess, felling her as she chanted hysterically to whatever dark lord she followed. No one encountered the bearded human the orc traitor had described, though, and the obsidian artifact the orc had asked the elves to shatter was either gone or had never been there. At twilight the elven clerics blessed the blasphemous altar, causing it to disintegrate into a thousand tiny shards, and the magi used their magic to collapse the entire complex, forever sealing it to the world.[/I] [/QUOTE]
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