Derskragga's Chronicles, Part 1- The Early Years
Nagrand, Before the opening of the Dark Portal
"Honor, boy. Remember this. It is who our people are, what drives us in all things. Never be without honor, for then you are no more an orc than one of the filthy ogres. Bring honor to our clan, and honor to yourself. Live with honor, fight with honor, and die with honor, and you will be remembered gloriously." Said Korgun to his son. Korgun was large, even for an orc- he stood as tall as one of the mighty clefthoof, and as wide as one too. No one would dare call him fat, however, for his 475 pounds were definitely composed of muscle. Watching him you could see the veins ripple beneath his dark brown skin. His hair was long and worn in many braids like tendrils creeping down his back. The only part of him that didn't look imposing were his crimson eyes, which looked at all with dignity, compassion, and most importantly, honor.
"Yes, father," answered his son, Derskragga. The boy was just seven, but already a head taller than all the other children his age in the village. His skin was the same chocolaty brown as his father's, but his muscles did not bulge yet like his. His head was shaved except for one long ponytail, barely held together by some leather straps. The most noticeable similarity was the compassionate red eyes.
"Now, go train with Keltunk. You've much work to do if you want to be a warrior of the Warsong Clan!"
"Zug zug!" Derskragga responded, before merrily running over to the training grounds.
Another orc approached this one a female. Her skin was still more of a dark tan then brown, but still resembled that of the orcs. Her head was shaved except for two black pig tails that hung down her neck. She walked up beside Korgun.
"We are raising him well," she told him.
"There is still much for him to learn, my wife,"
There were many young orcs at the training grounds. They were strong, most battling each other with wooden play sword in pits dug into the ground, and several listening to an elderly orc with a silver beard by a fire.
Derskragga approached a grizzly looking orc with a black patch over his left eye. He wasn't as tall as Korgun, but just as menacing. He wore a leather cuirass that was battered with cuts from past battles. There was a small hand axe hitched to his belt. His hair was red, unlike most orcs, but apart from his short beard, he didn't have much of it. One of the yellow tusks jutting from his mouth was chipped off at the end. He wore the same expression that many war veterans wore, stating he had seen many terrible things in his lifetime.
"Throm-Ka, Derskragga," the orc greeted. "Are you ready to begin your training for today?"
"Aye, Master Keltunk,"
"Good." He turned around and picked up a small axe made solely of wood from a rack in the dirt. He picked it up, walked over to Derskragga, and handed it to the boy. For a grown orc it would only be a measly hand axe, probably used as a secondary weapon, if not just for peons to chop wood with. But for Derskragga, it was a full sized axe, the weapon of his people- the weapon of warriors.
The two walked over to one of the pits dug into the ground. Inside there was a training dummy constructed of sacks of straw and wooden planks, and the banner of the Warmaul ogres attached to it. Many patches covered the dummy, giving it an appropriate worn look. While Keltunk stopped, Derskragga walked up to the dummy, entered fighting stance, and swung his weapon.
The blow was a mighty one, tearing right through the dummy's belly and spilling its wool entrails on the dirt. Its sewn smile seemed to turn into a frown as the head sack tilted over, and its wooden plank of a back splintered in two and fell. The young orc did not stop here, however, as for good measure, he swung down the axe again, chopping its head clean off.
Keltunk applauded Derskragga from somewhere behind him, and patted his head when he returned. "Good job, boy. It's time."
The orc child seemed to know exactly what he meant by this, and nodded. The two exited the pit, and walked over to a grander arena- a deeper hole in the earth, this one with spiked logs protruding from the edges inward. The other training orc boys and girls stopped what they were doing and crowded around. Only Derskragga entered.
On the other edge of the hole was a massive cage, constructed of thick wooden poles bound by leather straps. Inside was a creature of massive proportion, even greater than most orcs (though Korgun matched them in size). However, it had no bulging muscles, but instead massive fat that jiggled when it walked, and due to that the only clothing on it was a small loincloth; it was hard to avoid the disturbing sight. It had three chins on its tiny head, which seemed to be covered in some sort of grease. It had no hair, but instead a single ivory horn protruding from its forehead. The creature had but a single eye, which glared with anger and hate at all whom it saw. Its ruddy red skin was covered in tribal blue markings and tattoos. It was an ogre.
The ogre barked furiously as two peons rushed in, removed the bar holding the cage door in place, and scurried out as soon as they could. There was only Derskragga and the ogre left in the pit now. The ogre growled lowly at him, froth dripping from its maw. For a bit, they just stared at each other, gazing into one another's eye. Then, they charged, simultaneously and without warning. The ogre raised had only its fists despite Derskragga's axe, but it still had the advantage, for each of its hands were big enough to engulf the young orc's head.
The ogre threw a clumsy punch at Derskragga, but it was easily dodged. Before it could raise its meaty hand, the boy swung his axe into its wrist, and blood spurted out and sunk into the dirt. The massive ogre cried out in pain, and then directed its angry gaze at the orc. It swatted Derskragga, and he flew across the arena and hit the side wall before sliding to the ground. He lost his axe upon being hit, and was blacking out. He saw the ogre approaching him. Its three fat chins shook as it laughed deeply. It loomed over Derskragga. He knew he was finished. Surely there was nothing he could do to save himself now-
Then, the ogre let out a scream. It fell down to its knee in pain, coughed up some blood, and then collapsed to the ground, cold and lifeless, and on its back stood Keltunk, plunging a spear between its shoulder blades. The battle worn orc twitched the spear to be sure of its death, and then looked at Derskragga.
"You fight with honor, boy, and although we all seek a glorious death, we must wait for our times." Keltunk paused as if thinking then looked right into Derskragga's eyes. "It was my mistake. You were obviously not ready to fight such a powerful opponent. We will train more, but for now, you are dismissed."
The boy nodded, then began walking toward home. I couldn't kill it, he thought. I was weak. I must train and become strong and only then can I be a true warrior. Only then can I fight alongside my clan. He reached his home, a small hut made of clay and mud. He entered to find that supper was already set out on a cloth mat on the floor, and his mother and father had already begun to eat.
"Come, boy, sit and eat. I heard about today. Your mother has even made her special talbuk sandwiches, with those special Draenei spices."
Derskragga only nodded, and went to sit cross legged by the mat and began to nibble at his sandwich.
Korgun continued. "I'm so proud of you. My son, killing an-"
"I didn't kill it," Derskragga interrupted.
"What?"
"I couldn't kill it. I tried, but I was weak, and it almost killed me. It would've, if Master Keltunk hadn't interfered." The boy explained.
"Well, did you fight honorably?"
"Yes,"
"Then we must celebrate anyway! Strength is important, Derskragga, but not as much so as honor. Remember- life with honor, fight with honor, and die with honor. It is the way of our people."
The boy nodded, then took a large bite out of his sandwich. He smiled. He had done well, after all- he fought with honor. That's something the ogres can't boast. He ate his sandwich voraciously, for he had earned it by fighting with honor.
He and his parents went to bed after they finished, each tucking themselves into their clefthoof skin rolls. He let the darkness take him, for he was tired after a long day of training. That night, he dreamt of honorable battles and brave warriors battling the ogre menace.
"Ogres! Ogres in the village!" cried out a guard in the night. His wolf mount strode through the village so that he could spread the word of the raid by the Warmaul ogres. There were five ogres, each powerful warriors that had an advantage in size and willingness to employ dishonorable tactics. Orcs awakened in their homes and charged off to face the foul raiders. The village was small, however, and there were not sufficient numbers to fight them off.
"Stay here!" shouted Korgun at his son as he and his wife ran out to join the fight. Derskragga didn't obey, however. As soon as his parents left the hut, he grabbed a hand axe from the family's weapon rack and ran out there, letting out his own battle cry. He knew that he shouldn't have, that he was told not to. Yet, he just couldn't resist. He charged past the full grown warriors and held his blade above his head. As soon as he was close to an ogre, he propelled himself through the air, and brought down his weapon. It sliced cleanly through one of the ogre's head, and the cold corpse fell backwards as the young orc kicked off its chest with both his feet. Another one charged at him. He hacked through its belly just as he had done to dummies many times before, and its bloody entrails spilled out on the grass as it died. He chopped of its head for good measure. Another one charged him, but he didn't even have a chance to slay it as Keltunk had come and flung a hand axe into its head, blood gushing out as it fell to the soil. An archer fired an arrow right through the single eye of the next, felling it with one well-aimed shot. Korgun himself killed the last one, not with weapons, but by plunging his hand right through its chest and ripping out its still beating heart. The invaders were slain.
Derskragga and his father's eyes met. Derskragga expected to be punished for his disobedience. Perhaps he would have to wash all the town's wolves? Or even worse, he wouldn't be allowed to go on the village hunts! But instead, Korgun gave him a smile.
"I'm proud of you, Derskragga,"
The End