deatharrows
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Chapter 13
The Tale of Ogrim DreadMaul
The sounds of paws hitting the ground echoed through the hallway, as the creature pursued Deatharrows. As it advanced, the torch light illuminated it, revealing it to be a large silver furred dire wolf. Right as the wolf was about to pounce, a large spear like object pierced it through the head, and continued into Deatharrows's leg. It advanced as Deatharrows clenched his teeth from the pain in his leg, and just as the creature was about to be hit by the light of the torch, Deatharrows's vision blurred, as his eyes opened. He was in his cell, as a large spear like arm extended from outside the cell. It was heading right towards him.
Deatharrows assessed that he was in danger, and quickly rolled off his bed, and jumped on the object. Try though he might, Deatharrows found himself incapable of breaking it, finding the object to be much more durable than he thought. Then, it wrapped him up, and pulled him towards the bars of the cage. "Wait, it responded to my attack." Deatharrows thought. "This thing isn't a weapon, its conscious. What in the Avatars name is that?" Through the bars, Deatharrows saw a set of glowing red eyes that appeared to be almost radiating. Suddenly, a light appeared from the far side of the cell, as torches illuminated the area. The creature let go of Deatharrows, and fled into the darkness.
Approaching the cell were two guards, one of which Deatharrows recognized as the guard who brought him into the pit level of the Swordhaven dungeon. That guard stepped up, and spoke into the cell. "Thank you for this delightful present mutt." the guard said with a large smirk. "What are you talking about?" Deatharrows asked. The guard looked amused by this statement. "You play dumb all you like, that vampire lord didn't kill himself." the guard said. "We saw that his heart was torn out, and it wasn't lying around anywhere, so its safe to say it was eaten. I know you'll eat a trash can if there's a slice of steak in it, mutt, but I'd think you'd hold yourself to higher standards than organs." "But I never left my cell!" Deatharrows yelled defensively. "That whole in the bars would say otherwise." the guard said, pointing to a spot along the cell in which multiple bars had been seemingly cut off. "Now that you've attempted to escape I have the pleasure of being able to put you down. Before I send you to Death's Gate, I have to thank you for taking care of that vampire for me. The thing always creeped me out, hissing and licking its lips when I walked by."
Deatharrows was starting to worry. His journey couldn't end here, he hadn't became the most infamous assassin on Lore, and he hadn't gotten to find out what Esmerelda's mysterious machinations were. "When you reach the land of the dead, tell them Sir James sent you." the guard said. The guard drew his sword, and had the other guard hold Deatharrows. Right before he swung his sword, a loud voice boomed into the cell. "The assassin did not kill the vampire." the voice said. James dropped his sword. "My apologies, I was under the wrong impression." James said. "We'll just have a mage patch up these bars and continue investigating." "Why are you listening to the inmate?" the other guard said. James grew infuriated and struck the other guard in the back of the helmet with his sword, rendering him unconscious. As he exited, carrying the other guard, he said to Deatharrows, "You got lucky, mutt." Deatharrows simply smiled. "What's so funny?" James asked. "You told me your name." Deatharrows said. "Now I know who I'll be killing before I make my escape." James just kept walking away, shrugging off the comment.
Deatharrows suddenly remembered it was the prisoner in the cell next to him who had saved his life. "Thanks for the help." Deatharrows said. "How'd you know it wasn't me who killed the vampire though?" "A good warrior can react to his opponents moves well enough to win a single encounter before falling on the battle field. A great warrior can tell what an opponent will do before they do it and slay a good dozen men before meeting there end. A warrior who inspires respect and fear to hundreds of thousands can sense the very life force of those around him, and can slay hundreds with every swing of his weapon." Deatharrows was confused by this, until he remembered that with the vampire dead, the only one next to him was the colossal orc. A being that large who was dangerous enough to warrant a cell in the pit must have had quite some array of skills to earn what infamy he had. "So, you sensed I didn't leave my room?" Deatharrows asked. "No, I sensed another presence near the vampire's cell before his life force was extinguished." the orc said. "On any ordinary occasion I would care not for the affairs of you, or anyone else in this pitiful excuse for a jail, but the force that killed the vampire it was something beyond the elementals, a power beyond the Avatar's control." "What, like good or evil forces?" Deatharrows asked. "No." the orc said. "The force was overflowing with power, as though it was a substance being pent up for years, like some wild and primal emotion, capable of pitting brother against brother, starting wars, and ending empires. It was a power like that which I wielded back in my prime."
"So," Deatharrows asked, "you're worried this thing will kill us all?" "That's not it." the orc said. "I could destroy that being with ease, but that force has reminded me of my old ambition and power. Furthermore, it shared a link with your essence. If you can inspire a primal power like the one the being gave off to be awakened, then you are a warrior worthy of my respect. I need your help to escape this place and regain my lost glory." Deatharrows was surprised by this statement. Not so much that this warrior of unknown strength thought Deatharrows to be above his level, but more that Deatharrows was connected to this force. "At the same time," Deatharrows thought, "I had a dream about some monster just like the one that attacked me and killed the vampire directly before I was attacked. I'll have to delve into the recesses of my mind and see what this could mean."
"So, will you help me escape?" the orc asked. "Yes, but I just ask that you give me your name and explain how you ended up in here." Deatharrows said. The orc sighed. "My story is a long one." He said. "A saga of bloody battles, glory, and treachery. My name is Ogrim DreadMaul. I was the last great orcish warlord. I was born in the lava ridden mountains of the elemental foothills back 50 years ago. From birth, people knew I was great. I killed my father and took his mantle as Chief of my clan at the age of 12, and stood 8 feet tall. I also took from him our family weapon, the DreadMaul. A mace that can shatter shields, carve up mountains, and even bring dragons to their knees. At the age of 20, I decided I would bring glory to the orcs that we hadn't had in centuries. I started invading and conquering nearby clans, adding them to my army, until I had 50,000 orcs following my orders. From there, I moved to the East side of the continent, were we carved a bloody path out for ourselves, taking cities, slaying armies, and writing our names into the history of Lore with blood. When we reached Doom Wood, I met my first human wife in Amityvile. After she impaled one of my soldiers on his own sword for coming onto her, I knew she had a fire in her that shone brighter than any of my orcish wives." Ogrim smiled at that last statement, as though enjoying a fond memory.
"To my pleasant surprise, my wife had a gift for war, and managed to double my army's size and strength. Before meeting her, I had my doubts wether we would be able to take Sword Haven or not, but with her help, it was practically guaranteed we'd win, that was until the we reached the capital. The day before we planned to laid siege to Sword Haven, my two human sons betrayed me, defeating me in combat. Rather than follow our tradition and take control of my army, after giving me an honorable death, they instead handed me over to the king, to rot in a dungeon, and scattered my army across the land. I don't know what became of my wife, but chances are she's still out there. She was a strong woman, and a gifted one as well. I got thrown in here, lost DreadMaul to some historians, and my power faded with my pride."
"Wow, that was an interesting story." Deatharrows said. "What's your story?" Ogrim asked. "How did a mere human wind up in the pit?" Deatharrows sighed. "I," Deatharrows said, "don't have much of a story. I was a kid who was exposed to the wrongdoings of nobles, I grew to resent the world we lived in, and I wanted to make a change. Then, the mayor of my home town, a man who harassed my family frequently, was killed before my eyes. The killer tossed me a coin, winked at me, and then vanished, as though into the air. After researching the matter, I learned that the killer was an assassin, and I realized that my calling was being an assassin, and being the blade of the common people." "A humble origin, but what happened in between then and now?" Ogrim asked. "Nothing that would interest a warlord like yourself." Deatharrows said. "When we get out, get me a few drinks and some meat, and maybe I'll divulge into my past a bit more." Ogrim chuckled at this. "Good." Deatharrows thought. "He has a sense of humor. Based of his story he also feel emotions like anyone else, especially a strong sense of pride. If need be, I can use that against him."
With that, Deatharrows went to sleep. He dreamt that he was on a tower, with a monster closing in on him. Next to Deatharrows was a wolf, growling at the beast. Together, he and the wolf engaged the beast in combat. Deatharrows awoke to James's annoying voice booming in his ear. "Get up mutt!" James yelled. "We've got some work for you to do." Deatharrows was brought through a tunnel that led to a large gold mine. James thrust a pickaxe into his hands and told him to get to it. As he mined, Deatharrows planned out his escape. "First I need to track down that monster like Arya said to." he thought. "I'll need some bait to do that. I know the creature eats humans, has some connection to me, so I could do it, but I'd need someone to help me deal with it. Before that though, I need figure out how to kill this monster. It eats flesh, possesses glowing red eyes, and is powered by some kind of force...."
Deatharrows remembered something at that point. The Gorrillaphant had red eyes, ate flesh, and was clearly powered by some unknown force. Could the two monsters be in some way connected? A shove to the back broke Deatharrows's focus. Turning around, Deatharrows found the culprit to be a bald man, fairly sized and fair in stature. "Hey there pal." the man said. "I noticed you mined up quite some amount of gold. That much gold added to my amount would certainly earn me some favor with the guards, maybe even a chance to win my freedom. I'll just be borrowing it from you." Deatharrows tripped the man and promptly put a pickaxe to his neck. "Please don't kill me!" the man whimpered. "I'll do anything, just spare me!" Deatharrows pondered what to do, before he thought of something. Later, at night, Deatharrows lied under his bed, wearing the man's clothes. The man lied in the center of Deatharrows's cell, wearing Deatharrows's clothes with rope tied around his arms, legs, and mouth. His screams for help were muffled by the rope. Seeing as he was just another inmate, the guards didn't blink an eye when they noticed he wasn't in his cell. Then a set of red eyes appeared in the darkness outside the cell.
< Message edited by deatharrows -- 6/22/2015 13:06:57 >
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