2nd, Searing. 309 Age of Sundering
T
he day had begun like any other. Novath has set out on his chores. He had done all that was needed for the day and now it was time for him to be free and do what he wished. And so the growing Ork set off. Ax on one shoulder and net thrown over the other. His favorite fishing spot wasn’t far off but it was still a bit of a walk. One that the Ork enjoyed quite a bit. There was peace to it, aside from the monsters that would often roam the area. There was something about being all alone in the open plains of Ecith. The dirt was tapped under his feet with a rhythmic thump. Drawing closer and closer to the small bay that he adored. The crystal-like water reflecting the light caused it to sparkle like glass on the surface. And while he could not see them, he could imagine the fish that swam within it. He had yet to have a bad trip to this bay. Some were more rewarding than others. But nevertheless he was able to bring something home.
And soon enough he was at its edge. Now able to see into the waters and see the smaller fish swimming away. Novath took a deep breath. The salt scented air filling is lungs. A sense of satisfaction and peace flushed over the Ork. Comfort in everything that was around him. He slammed his ax blade down into the ground. Handle sticking up for him to grab if necessary. The Ork slowly stepped into the waters. Taking the net with him as he moved deeper and deeper.
The sense of cool, refreshing water rushed over his skin as he sank into the water. Surrounded by his element, he felt whole. The webbing between his fingers caught water, helping him push against it as he moved. The sea dragon blood that flowed through him rushed as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. Spotting his target, the Ork stopped himself. Studying them at what he assumed was a safe enough distance. Novath pushed himself back to the surface of the water. Taking in a deep breath, he dove down once again. Chasing after his target.
As he swam and hunted, a group of armored men took their place. Armed with spears, clubs and nets. They waited in the brush line. Doing their best to stay hidden from their prey. Ecithian Orks were bigger than the standard. But Mordin had already eclipsed most of them in his own right. The dragon blood caused him to grow taller than the average. He would make good money for them and that’s all they cared for. Symbols of the Kingdom of Cathena marking where they were from.
And they waited. Waited for the Ork to pull his catch ashore. And as he went through the fish, tossing those too small back into the bay. They moved in, rushing him so that he wouldn’t have time to turn about.
Novath turned just in time to see a spear being thrust in his direction. Aimed low as to not pierce any vital organs. Novath rolled, grabbing his ax as he stood up. Growling in anger as the men set upon him. ”Ahh. Cowards of Cathena come to die.” He spoke. Moving his ax to his dominant hand, he stepped forward. Swinging wide as he swiped right towards the men's necks. While their intent was to capture, his was to kill. They dared to not only come to their land but try to capture him for gods know what. It angered him immensely.
And yet they continued. Spears and clubs swung at the man's joints and non-vital organs. Trying to injure him enough to catch him. Nets were thrown out towards him, but he was still healthy enough to dodge out of the way. The battle continued, swinging and yelling curses in his native tongue, Novath fought valiantly. Grabbing one of the men by the arm, he used his strength to yank him forwards. Throwing him off balance the dragon instinct took control as he went straight for the throat. Teeth and tusks sinking into the flesh, crimson liquid filling the ork’s mouth. The man screamed in pain before it was quickly drowned out in gurgling nothingness.
Novath let the body drop. Spitting blood and flesh towards the ground. Some dripped down his chin as he gestured towards the others. ”Come then and let your body feed the earth.” He taunted.
As he taunted a spear’s blade glided across his side. Slicing near his ribs as a growl in pain came out. Swinging wide but missing by a few inches as the man jumped back. They began to circle him again. A rope tied into a lasso tossed out managed to snag his weaker arm. Knot tightens quickly to restrain him back. The Ork fought and for a moment was winning before another hopped in and grabbed the rope. As he went to bring the ax down on the rope. A spear jabbed into his forearm. A yelp of pain as the ax fell free. He swung out with his claws now. Nails meeting flesh as they went across his face. Blood freely pouring from one of his would be attackers. Spears jabbed into his back and more wences and growls came from Novaths lips.
A rope was tightened around his other arm. And he struggled, the numbers showing their strength as they slowly gained advantage. But not before he was able to kick into the side of one of the less armored men. Hearing the satisfying crushing of ribs as the man fell to the floor in pain.
A club came crashing into the back of his knee. Buckling it in an instant as he collapsed down to one knee. But the Ork continued fighting. Refusing to be captured here. Two of the heavily armored men now moved to put weight on his back. Pinning his shoulders down to air in his capture. The scales on his body slowly rose up as his rage grew. Definitely pushing against them as he slowly rose up. Though unable to break fully free, he was able to stand in a hunched position. Training kicking in with instinct, he used the weight of one of the men. Rolling them over one shoulder and sending them onto their back. Freeing him to lunge to one side and dropping the other men. The sudden weight of the armored attacker and the movement of Novath, caused the rope to suddenly tighten on the two that were holding it.
Being yanked forward into the dirt, his arm was free one again. And he lashed out with it. Grabbing the rope attached to his right arm. He yanked and pulled against the other. Rushing forward to slam his head into the nose of the one holding the rope. He growled in satisfaction. Turning to face the next as a club came swinging behind him. Smashing into the back of the head and sending him to the floor. His world fading to black in but a quick second.
What happened next was wholly unknown to Novath. But he awoke in shackles and tossed in a cage. He could see others through blurred vision but yet wasn’t able to make out if they were filled or not. The scent of salt filling his nose. The feeling of joy that once filled his chest was now nothing more than dread and regret. The young ork was prideful. Believing in his own strength to carry him. But in a moment's notice his pride had been broken. Confidence shattered and splintered. Pain imitating from the back of his head. He leaned against the cold steel.
Unsure of how long he had been out or where he was. Novath tried to free himself from his chains. But was unable to do so. He could hear the sound of someone walking up to the cage. ”Ah look who’s awake. If it isn’t the stink beast. You put up a mighty fight, but you lost in the end. Ain’t that just a bitch. Oh well, I guess that sucks for you. But hey, at least you can make me money in the pits.” The large blurred shape laughed as he spat on the ork. Kicking him from the side caused Novath to collapse to the ground once again. Struggling against the pain, his vision went dark once again.
He awoke hours later. Some bread and potatoes placed on a simple plate on the other side of his cage. His stomach growling and pulsing with pain. He dragged himself over to the plate. Tearing at the pitiful excuse for food that rested before him.
"Hey you. You're awake. Here take this." A voice called out. Novath slowly looked up. The shame of defeat filling his mind and chest. He slowly started to put together everything that was happening. The rocking of the ocean as Ecith fell farther and farther behind him. His eyes met with that of a tan skinned human. Arm reached out holding a second plate. With all the strength he could muster, Novath reached through the bars as best as he could. "You need to keep your strength. They say you put up quite the fight, I can't say I'm surprised. I've hear tales of people like you. Giant Orkhans..." the voice of the human trailed off for a moment. As he looked towards the stairs. "If we stick together, I think we can get through this." A flash of white teeth in a smile. "My names Nakir, what's yours?"
Novath grunted as he pushed himself against the bars. Doing his best to sit up right. He stared at Nakir for a few moments before speaking. "I am not sure I am deserving of a name." Novath grumbled in shame and defeat.
"Ah that's nonsense. But if you wish to keep it to yourself, I shall respect it"
