Urduuk
woke up feeling much the same way. More, perhaps. Definitely not
less.
He rubbed his eyes and looked around,
noticing that Karna was cooking breakfast. He shook his massive
head. "How is it that we live like this?" he asked aloud.
"What?" she grunted back at
him. "Live like what?"
"This place," he said, rising
to his feet, "it's nothing more than a jumble of rocks with
some crude rugs on the floor. Yet we've lived like this for years
and never thought twice about it. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
Karna was baffled. "This place is
our home. Oggok is as it has been all of our lives. I don't understand
this sudden... change in your thinking."
"Dissatisfaction, you mean? Don't
you feel it, Karna? Don't you feel something rising up within you?
It's as if a fog has slowly been receding and my mind understands
things for the first time. We are a race of kings, Karna. Once we
held all of Norrath in the palm of our hand. Yet for centuries our
people have lived in a city that is nothing more than a shambling
pile of stones and rotting vines. Doesn't that seem ridiculous to
you? Doesn't that seem absurd?"
She bared her teeth and slowly shook
her head. "My mind... it's fuzzy, Urduuk. It scares me a little.
I know of what you speak, but still... it's like I'm trudging slowly
through deep water. I want so much to move faster, but I simply
cannot."
He wrapped his huge arms around her and
pulled her close to him. "I'm sorry, my love. I do not mean
to upset you. But I can see it in myself and in the others. I can
hear it in the way we speak. Something about us is changing, Karna.
We are not what we once were."
"I think you are right, Urduuk,"
she said, almost vulnerably. She squeezed him because it made her
feel better to do so.
He kissed her brow. "That's enough
nonsense out of me for now. What about that breakfast?"
"Pathetic," he muttered angrily
to himself. Then, to the old man, "Are you sure this is all
of them?"
The silver-crested ogre slowly shook
his head. "I have told you twice already that it is. We simply
have not kept many written records of our history, young man. Those
scrolls and tablets are all that our shamans have scribed over the
centuries."
"Ridiculous!" he hissed to
himself as the old man sat down. "It's as if our entire civilization
has been in a stupor. Stories have been passed down from one generation
to the next through the telling, but there is so little concrete
information. And this shambles of a library is laughable. Even the
cursed frogloks have better books than these." Urduuk pushed
the scrolls and tablets away and clenched his fist.
"What's that, young one?" the
old ogre asked. "Did you find the answers you seek?"
"Sadly, I think I have, old one."
Urduuk shook his head. "At least, the only answer there is
to find." He stood up and walked out of the library, his feet
pounding angrily on the crumbled cobblestones of the street.
"Be careful how you speak to your
chieftain, Urduuk. My word is law here in Oggok."
Urduuk held his tongue a moment before
speaking again. "I meant no offense, Chieftain Orrek. I simply
feel there is a better approach."
"My plan is sound. We will expand
our farmlands and feed our bellies. We will strengthen our outposts
in the Feerrott and ensure that our borders are safe. Oggok will
grow and prosper under my hand."
"We need to do more than survive!
We are not a race of farmers, Orrek. We are a race of warriors and
kings. Norrath knew our domination once, and it must know it again.
But we will never see that glory if we till the soil like oafish
farmhands."
"Your tone offends me, Urduuk. Say
another word and I'll have you in chains before this assembly."
"Assembly? Are you joking? Look
around you," he said, gesturing at the crowd in the square
surrounding them. "The center of our city is nothing more than
broken boulders and fetid ponds. How can this be enough for you?"
He looked at the other citizens. "How can this be enough for
any of you?" Many of the ogres murmured in agreement.
The chieftain sensed the dissent growing
around him. "Enough! I lead this city, and I determine its
course. This meeting is over."
"It is not!" Urduuk growled.
"It is time for us to show the courage to embrace our destiny."
"Those are the words," announced
a deep, booming voice, "that I have waited for one of you to
speak."
Urduuk turned and gasped, as did the
crowd. Out of nowhere a massive figure stood, twice as tall as any
ogre, with a thick, imposing frame. It wore dark metallic armor
that seemed to faintly glow with power, and a horned helm that hung
just above its burning eyes. It was like an ogre but more than an
ogre, a creature of power and terror and death.
Urduuk stood transfixed for a moment,
then stammered a question almost in a whisper. "Lord... Lord
Rallos?'
"No," answered the voice, echoing
throughout the square. "I am not your maker, but rather the
one who has remained behind to carry out his will. I am the hand
of Zek while he must be absent. And I am the one who will guide
you to once again dominate all of Norrath."
Urduuk looked over at the chieftain,
who stood awed and terrified. Urduuk sneered at him and then turned
back to the dark figure. "Avatar of War, emissary of our maker,
we live and die at your command. Tell us what to do."
A dark smile seemed to cross the being's
otherworldly face for a moment. "You will build. You will waste
no time growing wheat or baking bread. You will take what you need
from others and make this a city fit for kings. You will expand
your knowledge and relearn the dark arts lost to you for so long.
You will raise a new Rallosian Army that shall conquer the world
and wipe out the children of the lesser gods once and for all. This
is your destiny, son of Zek. Will you make it yours, or will you
wander about the jungle with lizards and toads?"
Urduuk stepped forward and stood in front
of the avatar. "We will seize our destiny. We will build a
new city of Rallos that will be grander than any other on Norrath.
One by one the lands of those who oppose us will be burned to the
ground. On this you have my blood oath. We will not fail."
The avatar reached to his side and drew
a runed, flaming blade. He touched it to Urduuk's shoulder and watched
as the ogre refused to flinch. The avatar nodded. "You, Urduuk,
will be my general. You will lead your people to their rightful
destiny. By the touch of Soulfire I ordain this to be so."
He sheathed the blade and drew a second weapon from his belt. "This
sword was blessed by Vallon Zek and forged in the fires of Drunder.
The unholy blade Vel'Arek must drink the blood of the weak, and
in turn it will make you strong. Use it to claim what is yours,
Urduuk."
Urduuk took hold of the massive weapon
and felt its weight. It looked as if it would take two hands to
wield it, but he could easily swing it with one. It had a long,
dark blade with ancient words inscribed down the length of it. He
looked up at the avatar a moment, then turned and walked to Chieftain
Orrek. "Would you still have us be farmers, chieftain? Would
you still have us be weak?"
"I... have devoted my life to the
service of Zek," he stammered nervously. "I will not fail
him."
"You are correct, chieftain, for
your death shall serve him as well." Urduuk thrust the blade
forward suddenly and drove it through the chieftain's chest, staring
into the ogre's eyes as he crumpled to the ground. Urduuk withdrew
the blade and lifted it to the sky, watching as it seemed to drink
in the blood of the fallen chieftain.
"This," boomed the voice of
the avatar, "is the force of will necessary to rule these lands.
Even now my ally, the Avatar of Flame, is bringing this same message
to the orc legions. Together the children of Zek will conquer this
world and cleanse it of elves and men."
"The word of Zek shall guide us,
Avatar," General Urduuk proclaimed. "We will build this
city and your army. We will learn the dark magics and once again
become the masters of this realm."
The avatar watched as the ogres knelt
before their ruler. Urduuk narrowed his eyes and looked to the east.
"And when the time is right," he said with disdain, "Gukta
and the wretched frogloks will be the first to fall."
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