[X] Try and Convince Mogor to fight now. You are tired from the travel, but you don't want to give him the chance to prepare. Chance of Success: 75%.
- Location
- The Void
[X] Try and Convince Mogor to fight now. You are tired from the travel, but you don't want to give him the chance to prepare. Chance of Success: 75%.
[X] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
[X] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.
Simply put, he's an ogre. If he hits us once, we're probably out of the fight anyway.
That said, he's an Ogre-Magi. What's worse is that based on his WoW performance, he can Reincarnate when initially defeated, and he can use Bloodlust.
Yes, he'll try treachery, but we talk to Kaz the Shrieker's daughter, she'll probably know what he'll try, and there's nothing more terrible then an enemy who knows of your shenanagans, because we'll be in a position to counter them.
Simply put, he's an ogre. If he hits us once, we're probably out of the fight anyway.
That said, he's an Ogre-Magi. What's worse is that based on his WoW performance, he can Reincarnate when initially defeated, and he can use Bloodlust.
Yes, he'll try treachery, but we talk to Kaz the Shrieker's daughter, she'll probably know what he'll try, and there's nothing more terrible then an enemy who knows of your shenanagans, because we'll be in a position to counter them.
[X] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.
[X] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.
[X] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.
If we talk to the daughter, we can learn and prepare for some of the trickery.
Also, we just finished trekking a respectable distance, I do not want to fight his fight while tired.
Edit: damnit.
If we talk to the daughter, we can learn and prepare for some of the trickery.
Also, we just finished trekking a respectable distance, I do not want to fight his fight while tired.
Edit: damnit.
*coughs*
Just pointing it out, no need to get agressive...
Laughing Skulls 2
Mogor the Ogre, an early tale of Dranosh Saurfang
Laughing Skull Village Center
You know quite clearly that Mogor can and will betray the honor of the Mak'gora. He will likely enact some form of trickery. Whether by poison or magic, you cannot know. But no matter. Let him have his 'clever' tricks, you will defeat him all the same. You will rest, prepare, and then when dusk arrives…you will destroy him. So when the ogre mage walks away, laughing all the while, you turn away from him and instead focus on the many eyes that are now upon you.
"You probably could have convinced him to fight you right now, you know that right?" Jorin says from nearby.
You nod absentmindedly to him while you watch the Laughing Skulls. Some have let their weapons back down, while others slipped back into the shadows. The small sparks of hope you had breathed life into seemed to die as they returned to their silent watching positions on rooftops and in windows. Others just sort of sit back down, the energy powering their alert movements in the quasi ambush you nearly suffered quite suddenly leaving them.
There are no drinks, or food, or anything else. Knowing the appetite of ogres, it is likely that a good chunk of the clans supplies have been funneled down two gullets into a single rolling stomach. Has Mogor not sent them out into hunting parties? Or…anything?
"He'll kill you now for sure," a voice says from much closer than you remember.
Whirling, you do not quite jump out of your skin at the sight of the daughter of Kaz the Shrieker somehow coming within two feet of you without making a sound. Her blade has been sheathed at her side, her head cocked to the side. You open your mouth to speak only for her to place a single finger on your mouth, stopping the words from leaving your throat while she shakes her head.
"He's going to kill you. You won't be able to beat him. Don't even try."
With that, she begins walking away. Jorin shares a puzzled look at you before he essentially waves at you to do something while he turns around and begins organizing your warriors into a defensive circle. Even if the Laughing Skulls seem so entirely lifeless they can clearly snap into combat form at the slightest drop of a pin…or an order from Mogor.
Rubbing the back of your head, you run after her before circling around so that you bar her path. Her hand immediately drops to the hilt of her blade while her blind eyes somehow seem to focus directly onto your face. By the ancestors how does she do that?
"You seem quite sure that I will fail…?" you trail off, realizing that you don't actually know her name.
She apparently realizes this as well because she sighs tiredly. Though you do not fail to note that her hand does not leave her blade, ready to unsheathe it at a moment's notice.
"I am named for my mother. Just as she was called Kaz…so am I," she says quietly.
At this point it seems that quiet is simply her general way of approaching things. A welcome contrast from Mogor indeed…but on the other hand as the daughter of the last Chieftain of the Laughing Skulls she is remarkably unenergetic. But that is no reason to be rude.
"Well, Kaz, though you speak so gloomily, will you at least accept a small bit of our fire and food before we are all under Mogor's yoke as you seem to believe?" you say ruefully.
Her eyes narrow at you, and if they actually moved you're rather sure that they would be examining you for mocking or falsehood. Hospitality is one of the greatest honors that can be bestowed, and no matter your more lateral thoughts on orcish culture that is something you hope never changes. You do realize that you are essentially offering her hospitality while in her own home, but given the state of it perhaps that won't matter as much.
"You act like you Mag'har won't be. He's too strong, too fast, too….powerful," she mutters before nodding, "but I haven't eaten in two weeks, so I will allow myself some luxury before I watch him break you."
Your eyes widen as you step back in surprise. Two…weeks…?! What , in the name of the ancestors-
"Don't look so surprised Mag'har," she murmurs as she turns back towards your small camp with you hurrying behind, "Mogor is strong but he's a shit leader."
"But two weeks-,"
A green hand cuts you off.
"Worry more about how your spine is going to be used to pick an ogres teeth, not my own health," she says harshly.
Your fury finally boils over, and your control slips for a small instant. Without a second thought one of your brown hands clasps over her green one to spin her around to face you. Even as you do so she somehow manages to pull her blade free of its sheathe to find it sliding silently along your neck drawing a single bead of blood.
"Unhand. Me. Now," She growls at you, her face nearly touching your own.
You glower back.
"No. I am going to worry about your health, do you know why?" you growl as your tusks come perhaps less than a fingernail away from touching.
Uncertainty flickers in her eyes.
"You don't even-," she begins but for once it is you doing the interrupting.
"I don't need to. You're an orc. I'm going to help you ancestors damn you!" you whisper fiercely.
Because you are. You were not raised as a Blackrock. Or a Frostwolf. Or a Bleeding Hollow. You were raised Mag'har. In Garadar, where the sick and the weak were the norm, and the strong were the few. Where you could spend one day speaking to the Frostwolves of their home in Frostfire Ridge, or to Bleeding Hollow stories of ancient battle, or of Blackrock instructions on weapon maintenance. You never actually suffered from the red pox. You had been sick, to be sure, but never fully struck low by that blasted disease.
Instead you were a defender of Garadar. A defender of the weak, even if you've never really thought about it that way. You defended and fought for and hunted for every single orc in Garadar regardless of clan.
Something unreadable crosses her face.
"Kargath said the same thing when he arrived. That he was going to help. He offered succor to whoever would prove themselves," she finally speaks tonelessly.
Well, you have confirmation on that front it seems. But prove…your unspoken question is answered by her unspoken answer by way of her eyes pointedly looking at your hand. Ah. The ritualistic removal of one's hand, the entrance ritual into the Shattered Hand. Wonderful.
"He helped by stripping half our number away, from our heritage and our clan and into his little band of sadomasochistic freaks."
You shake your head.
"I'm not going to do that. I am here to remove Mogor. The Horde," and you are gratified to see her snarl in time with you at the mention of that damned thing, "is dead and broken no matter what Kargath says. They killed our people and our souls. Mogor is a servant of the long dead Gul'dan."
Finally you release her hand, though she merely places it alongside the other on the hilt of her blade which even now remains on your neck. Amazingly it remains precisely where it began, not cutting a single bit more into your neck than it already has. Her heads tilts, slightly, though the aggression seems to have at least partially retreated from her.
"What are your goals here, Mag'har? Some grand campaign of conquest? Or do you just want more orc bodies to defend your precious Garadar?"
Even now she seems to be locked into the thought of you abusing the Laughing Skulls. It's…not that unsurprising, despite how depressing that is. She has literally grown up under Mogor, after watching him kill her mother and no doubt with treachery. The idea of you being simply benevolent towards the Laughing Skulls seem to be an entirely foreign concept to her.
"No," you say shaking your head, "none of those sorts of things?"
The blade dips a bit deeper into your flesh, and few more beads of blood join the first.
"Then what do you want from us!?" she demands harshly.
With a single finger, you lift the blade and point it away while you splay your other hand wide.
"For you to be free. When, not if, I defeat Mogor, if the Laughing Skulls wish it then I will leave you be forevermore. I will demand nothing from you."
Her eyes begin to widen before her own self-control reasserts itself.
"What if we all decide to join up with Bladefist then? Would you regret 'setting us free', then Mag'har?"
Well. You hadn't thought of that. Yet, now that you have…
"No," you say simply.
Her blade dips fully to the ground, her grip grown slack to match her jaw.
"You-,"
"Want you to be free to make your own choices. To hunt, to farm, to fish, to live, to breath without an ogre standing on your backs and forcing you to your knees. I would not regret setting you free of Mogor, no matter what. I would only regret that you would so quickly seek the chains of Kargath over that of the ogre."
With what you hope is a genial smile, you gently hold out your hand.
"Now. Please, won't you share our fire and food?"
You can see her trying to marshal a rebuttal or refusal, but her stomach decides to make its pains known. With a sigh, Kaz finally nods…and takes your hand.
---------------------------------------------
A few minutes later, and you are sitting in front of a warm fire, an enormous haunch of clefthoof slowly roasting before you. All around are your warriors, with plenty of Laughing Skulls perched on the bare edges of the camp. They seem almost scared to accept the food and warmth that your warriors offer. Though you cannot help but smile as some accept, internally you fume that they have been so abused and broken to reach this point at all.
Aside from the fire, Kaz chews her own meal with deliberate and extended slowness. Each single morsel is carefully eaten and enjoyed, as you know at this point some large part of her remains convinced that you will die soon. She is wrong, of course, but you'll just have to prove it to her. In the meantime you welcome the rest, your body slowly girding itself as you sit and drink. Only a single windroc leg has found its way into your stomach.
With how vigorously you plan to be moving soon, you can't afford to get queasy because you stuffed your gullet beforehand. Another Mag'har sits down beside you, and clears his throat.
Jorin looks pointedly at Kaz, then back to you, before making a questioning expression. Oh! Right.
"Kaz?" you venture, her head snapping up to find your own with that same unerring accuracy.
"Yes?" she answers.
"Could you perhaps share your knowledge of what Mogor is likely to do?"
With some actual food and drink in her belly a small amount of humor seems to have returned to the young blind woman if her small smile is anything to go by.
"Oh? Suddenly not so confident about your chances Mag'har?"
Jorin snorts, though he stops when she looks at him…somehow. But he is unshaken by her unblinking sightless stare, and speaks calmly.
"He's always confident. He just wants to know what kind of treachery Mogor has in store. We both know that the ogre will not respect the hallowed nature of the Mak'gora."
There it is! That small smoulder of rage and energy and life that so many of the Laughing Skulls seem to lack. Kaz says nothing, at first, but her grip does tighten on the stone plate she holds on her lap.
"He will not. His weapons will be…hrmph. I do not know what he does to them. If he chooses the club, a nimbus of frost will surround it, and follow it."
She continues on before you can say anything, apparently getting a little steam beneath her.
"When it strikes the ground a small nova of frost erupts as well, fast and powerful enough to skewer through flesh and bone with ease. You cannot allow yourself to be struck a single time, understand Mag'har?" she says sharply to which you nod.
"You said if he chooses the club, are there other weapons he might try to use?" Jorin interjects.
Kaz takes another agonizingly slow bite of her food before speaking again.
"Yes. If he does not use his club…he will use what he used when he killed my mother…" her voice drops away into grief which you can practically feel her internally strangle before continuing.
"Spiked…claws. Or knuckles? It is hard to describe. Metal spikes placed along his outer hand. They will be poisoned."
You, Jorin, and every other orc nearby who was absolutely not listening in gasp and growl in outrage. Poison…in Mak'gora!? That fat bastard!
"He-he wouldn't-" Garrosh speaks up from his own campfire, his face horrified.
Kaz merely turns her unsettling gaze on him.
"He would. It is forbidden, obviously, but the end result of death is the same. With none able to contest…the outcome of Mogor becoming Chieftain was undeniable."
She looks down and abruptly whips out her blade one handed, leveling it with you. Now that you can look at it properly in the firelight, it really is a masterwork. A small wave pattern follows the razor sharp edge. Then, in a bolt of remembrance, you realize the last time you saw such a thing. The last time you had seen a blade of this type had been clutched in a death grip by the sole member of the Burning Blade in Garadar. Kaz, daughter of Kaz…is a Blademaster? Blind or not that-
"I was too young…to do anything. When I watched the blood of my mother spew forth from her eyes and ears as the poison took effect, I swore one day that I would kill Mogor myself and retake the clan."
Though the majority of the Laughing Skulls remain hidden, you can feel the intensity of their silent attention on your small campfire. If you squint hard enough you can see the flashes of their eyes. Kaz continues to speak as the firelight dances on the gleaming metal of her blade.
"I trained. Hard. Begged and followed after the best warriors in the Burning Blade to teach me all the way through the Dark Portal and back. I cut down dozens of humans with this blade. I even slew one of their vaunted champions, a Paladin. Then, when I challenged Mogor…"
She drops the blade into the dirt.
"He refused. Said I wasn't worth a fight. But you're not allowed to refuse, and I told him so."
With her foot she kicks the blade upwards into the air, before somehow catching it by the hilt and twirling it slightly.
"Then he agreed. Turned around and…"
Her free hand trails around her eyes, while the blade trembles slightly.
"We had just returned from a battle. He still had on those damn claw weapons."
The camp is silent. The village is silent. No windrocs cry out in the night, and for a moment you swear the shattered remains of Draenor are silent as well.
Kaz looks at you carefully.
"Do you really think you can beat him? He's an ogre. He's stronger. Faster than you would believe. He has magic as well, plenty enough to empower him. You're just…you."
You take one last swig of water before standing, her eyes following you up.
"My name…is Dranosh Saurfang, Kaz daughter of Kaz."
There is a subtle change to her posture, but you can tell that she knows the name at least peripherally. The same goes for many of the Laughing Skull who surround you. In the hush of arriving dusk, your voice echoes and carries far.
"I swear, on my name, on my honor, that I will defeat Mogor. I will break the shackles of the Horde placed upon the Laughing Skull, and the shackles of their treacherous servant!" you say, your voice growing louder and louder.
"I will slay him, no matter his trickery and treachery, and I will do so before all of you! And should you wish me and mine gone afterwards, then I will do so happily! The Laughing Skulls will be free this day!" you are roaring at this point, your arms raised high.
Dark laughter echoes out from the encroaching darkness, and you turn, your expression stony, as Mogor reveals himself.
"Haaaaahaaaaahaaaa," the ogre says, each head drawing out the laugh.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to the spiked knuckle…claw creations that have been latched upon his meaty hands. Ah. So he went for poison this time.
"Little orc make big speech. It time for big smash fight little orc. It time you die!" he says with glee.
The camp abruptly breaks apart, fires stamped out and pots moved up. Your warriors separate and retreat to the edges of the village center, leaving a wide and open space for you and Mogor to battle in. Jorin shares a nod with you before pulling back as well, while the Laughing Skulls seem to populate every nook and cranny to breathlessly watch the coming fight.
You are no shaman, but you can still pray to your ancestors. The ones before Varok. Before the Horde. With one hand, you heft the heavy stone blade to rest upon your shoulder as you allow your barrel chest to breathe deep. The fresh air of Nagrand fills your lungs, even as you watch the ogre lumber into the village center. He grins nastily at you, but you pay him no mind. Instead, you focus, and allow the world to fall away.
No more Varok. No more Horde. No more Dranosh. Just one orc and one ogre. It even goes beyond that, really. Honor and Freedom against Monstrous Treachery. Well fine. You have no idea how those weapons work, but the poison on them is surely deadly indeed.
"I like da way puny orcs die!"
You open your eyes to snarl at him only to feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning, you find yourself staring into the milky white of Kaz's eyes. Everyone else rings the center of the village save for you, her, and Mogor. He too seems surprised to see her there.
She says nothing, instead shoving the stone blade away and off your shoulder. Then, to your widening eyes, she twists the hilt around of her own blade towards you while holding it by the flat.
"You weren't listening. He's. Too. Fast. That big piece of rock isn't going to even touch him."
Letting you wield her blade is…enormous for a blademaster. They're supposed to be the one of the most important things for one of those specially trained warriors. The blademaster back at Garadar was and technically still is still dying and he wouldn't give up his blade from a death grip until it was completely pried off of his grip and that took three strong warriors all at the same time!
She pokes you in the forehead with the bottom of the hilt to regain your attention, while Mogor just sort of…stands there blinking stupidly.
"Of course, you don't have to. You could just go over there and die. You're choice…Dranosh."
[ ] Take it. It's an offer, symbolic as well as useful. Steel cuts better than stone, and the blade will fly faster than your stone one. If what Kaz says is true speed will be an utter necessity despite the ridiculousness of such a large creature moving so quickly. However, you've never trained with such a sword before, and inexperience could be your downfall.
[ ] Thank her, but refuse. You came here to show them that you are capable, and you are. You will defeat him with the stone blade, and though it might not cut as well, it will certainly hit harder. Besides, you've actually trained with this thing and have some good experience with it. Speed will be an issue however, and if he hits hard enough Mogor could potentially destroy the sword.
Xicree
Murder.Malice.Might
[X] Take it. It's an offer, symbolic as well as useful. Steel cuts better than stone, and the blade will fly faster than your stone one. If what Kaz says is true speed will be an utter necessity despite the ridiculousness of such a large creature moving so quickly. However, you've never trained with such a sword before, and inexperience could be your downfall.
-[X] Aim to strike his hands come what may, you want him unable to use his weapons... and you need to move swiftly but carefuly. Avoid more complicated strikes and tricks... in the end you are faster than the tub of lard and muscle, use this to strike like a mosquito and run... 10000 cuts to bring him down and ensure that you don't take even 1.
-[X] Aim to strike his hands come what may, you want him unable to use his weapons... and you need to move swiftly but carefuly. Avoid more complicated strikes and tricks... in the end you are faster than the tub of lard and muscle, use this to strike like a mosquito and run... 10000 cuts to bring him down and ensure that you don't take even 1.
ReaperofInterest
Herald of Disaster
[X] Take It.
Speed is more important here, and cutting better is more important than hitting harder.
Speed is more important here, and cutting better is more important than hitting harder.
Professor Vesca
Good News Everyone!
[X] Take it. It's an offer, symbolic as well as useful. Steel cuts better than stone, and the blade will fly faster than your stone one. If what Kaz says is true speed will be an utter necessity despite the ridiculousness of such a large creature moving so quickly. However, you've never trained with such a sword before, and inexperience could be your downfall.
ll the Orcs of the Mag'har hang together, for we will surely hang apart.
ll the Orcs of the Mag'har hang together, for we will surely hang apart.
[X] Take It.
[X] Take it. It's an offer, symbolic as well as useful. Steel cuts better than stone, and the blade will fly faster than your stone one. If what Kaz says is true speed will be an utter necessity despite the ridiculousness of such a large creature moving so quickly. However, you've never trained with such a sword before, and inexperience could be your downfall.
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
[X] Take it. It's an offer, symbolic as well as useful. Steel cuts better than stone, and the blade will fly faster than your stone one. If what Kaz says is true speed will be an utter necessity despite the ridiculousness of such a large creature moving so quickly. However, you've never trained with such a sword before, and inexperience could be your downfall.
The fact that such a prized weapon is being offered to us it would be an insult not to use it in battle. Also since it is her blade if used to kill Mogor it be like she had a part killing him. We will show that the weak uniting together we can bring down the strong.
The fact that such a prized weapon is being offered to us it would be an insult not to use it in battle. Also since it is her blade if used to kill Mogor it be like she had a part killing him. We will show that the weak uniting together we can bring down the strong.
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