Heritage, a tale of a Warchief (Prologue)

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Heritage, a tale of a Warchief (Prologue)

Post by Warchief on Thu Oct 15, 2015 6:40 pm

My name is Warchief Galnorath Gargen. I am a half-orc, born of a great orc Warchief and a red dragon. My appearance is that of a strong-muscled, green skinned human with dark red hair and a short distinct beard. I wear thick plate armour that is the colour of obsidian. I carry a large, double-bladed axe with a blade on both ends of the weapon. I grew up learning and wielding a bastard sword and eventually took up my father’s greatsword until I came to wield the double-bladed axe that I use today. I am about to tell a grand tale of my many adventures. There have been many bards on my adventures however, they all seemed to exaggerate the tales or made me into someone I am not - and there are very few who know my full story. From this point on, I shall refer to myself in the third person as if my tale were written by another so that it may feel complete and like a true story. Like any good tale, one must start at the beginning, with their childhood - for one rarely starts their life as a hero. Galnorath Gargen was not always Warchief, as he had to grow up, train and learn to be the leader and heir he needed to be. He is the oldest son of a great Warchief and a red dragon with one brother and a sister. His father and himself bare the same name as it is customary for the heir to the clan to pass on the name to their oldest son, while his mother was named KerraGuthi in humanoid form, and IxuMaughZygax in dragon form. Her dragon name means, "courageous, burning, victor" for she is a great wyrm of the North and has been in many heated battles, never fearing her enemies, whereas her humanoid name simply means "humanoid in disguise".

Ever since he was a young boy, he was taught how to use a blade, as is the orcish way. Orcs, despite their many good qualities of honour, bravery and community, have always been shunned by the other races for their looks, their savagery in battle and the orcish tendency to wage war, pillage and burn all that get in their way. Sometimes however, there are orc clans that just want to be at peace and strengthen their own community but such hopes and dreams are not possible for an orc, so they must always be ready.  Being the oldest son, he had the honour of training with his father and he wielded a mighty bastard sword, training against his father’s greatsword. The two enjoyed these sessions, as they grew closer together as father and son, making their relationship a strong, close one and forging the young heir into the Warchief he would become. Orcish training is both hard and brutal for in order to learn to be battle-hardened, one must be trained for a real battle. Sword clashing against sword in burning fury, and rage as the bloodlust grows, each blow a sweet sound of clanging metal and tearing flesh. This was the orcish way and while many view it to be savage and brutal, they find it to be a means of survival for when war comes as it often does, every available blade is needed to defend their homeland.

When Draknathar was born, the sessions lessened but Galnorath felt he was well trained and would be ready to train his brother when the time would come. Before Draknathar became the age to hold a weapon, their sister Gabriella was born. Galnorath knew that she had more of her mother in her than that of the mighty Warchief but he knew he would enjoy training her as well. Draknathar grew strong and was ready to start his training with his older brother. When trying to use a blade, he was clumsy no better than a goblin and unwilling to learn to really use the blade. One day his rage grew so intense that he threw down the blade and went after his brother fists flying, catching him unprepared, disarming and badly wounding him before he managed to regain control. Glanorath learned that day that Draknathar wanted no weapon, Draknathar needed no weapon, he was a weapon. When Galnorath recovered, their training continued and Draknathar learned not only to be savage with his strong fists but how to skillfully block a blade with his bare hands without getting harmed. Their training continued until Gabriella grew old enough and the three trained together to make their father proud. When Gabriella entered training, Galnorath was more easy and caring with her as often times orc women only really see battle when it invades home. He knew however, that the day was coming fast where he would have to leave the clan to go into the wilds to complete his training and that Draknathar would not show the same restraint. He warned her of this and trained her against his savage brother’s fighting style in the hope that it would be enough for her to not get too badly injured in her training.

The day then finally came when Galnorath knew he had to leave on an adventure into the wilds to further his own training and return to the clan a hero worthy of the title of Warchief or not at all. The second phase of orcish training demands that every male orc of noble blood seek out adventure and make a name for himself to earn his titles and duties to the clan or not return at all. Noble blood in orcish terms varies from the Warchief’s bloodline to those that have done great deeds in battle or perform key duties to the clan for orcs do not view nobility like the other races do with kings, knights or high wizards. This was the orcish way and he yearned for the adventure that awaited him.

Galnorath grabbed his bastard sword and a shield then proceeded to say farewell to his brother and sister. Draknathar scoffed at the thought of an embrace so the two simply locked eyes and stared as if challenging each other to one last battle. It never came however and Galnorath knew that he must get going. He turned then to Gabriella with an embrace feeling the tears stream down her face. Their bond had grown close and Gabriella feared that she would never see brother again. Galnorath knew his brother would train her well but he could not help but worry over her for he knew that he would be more savage and possibly corrupt her pure and innocent heart. He did not show it however for he knew that he could not show any weakness in front of his brother for that rivalry grew fierce and the last thing he needed was to be considered weak on his departure. He locked eyes with Darknathar once more as if warning him not be hard on their sister then smiled once more at Gabriella. He took up his pack, his blade and his shield and did not look back as he left their camp and his home for the open road. He did not know where his adventures would go, only that he knew that he must face them and return back home worthy of his title of Warchief Galnorath Gargen and thus, this is where the true tale begins.


Last edited by Warchief on Thu Oct 15, 2015 7:58 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Heritage, a tale of a Warchief (Prologue)

Post by Kaldair on Thu Oct 15, 2015 7:46 pm

Nice!
Minor editing needed - nothing substantive. "a short", "the color of obsidian", "a blade on", "that I use", given "have been many bards" - we need "seemed to exaggerate" (or "exaggerated") and "made me". "I am not - and there", "as if my tale were" & "so that it may feel", "childhood - for one rarely". "of the North and has been", "whereas her humanoid name simply means "humanoid in disguise". "use a blade, as is", "the orcish tendency". Change "got the honor to train" to "had the honor of training". "he will become" changed to "he would become".
Minor things, but if you ever intend to publish, an editor will want them changed ...

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Re: Heritage, a tale of a Warchief (Prologue)

Post by Warchief on Thu Oct 15, 2015 7:58 pm

Done. Thanks for the feedback.
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