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RP Story: The Death of a Clan

Jaybles
Jaybles
The Death of a Clan
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How could things have gotten so bad so fast? It seemed like a few hours ago the battle against the advancing reachmen would be won as easy as venting your rage on a target dummy. Oh, they brought the usually seige weapons to assault the small keep of the Marakh Clan. Thoose consisted of one batteringram and 2 catapults. But their tactics... their goddamned tactics where so different from the usual attacks.

It all went to hell when the assault began. The catapults where not loaded with stones. No... no stones at all but with freshly deceased corpses of men and mer. As soon as the first volley flew over the battlements chaos ensued. The horror of the attack and the pure spatter of gore that came as soon as the corpses slammed into the keep's courtyard gave the advancing army a niche to roll the battering ram into place. The gates fell fast as the courtyard defenses where still in the middle of getting their act together after the wave of fear subsided. There where no forces to strengthen the gate and push against the rams advancements. In what seemed no time at all the gate buckled under the pressure of the enemies attack. Finally sergeant Brogur was able to rally his troops, just in time to avoid the second catapult volley. This time a whole mess of bones clattered unto the courtyard's pavement and the shields of the guards. "Come on you measely band of grunts!" he shouted, "The corpses where a shock but lifeless bones have never taken te life of an Orc!". "The enemy advances!" archer Galrug shouted. "Then shoot them you dimwitted oaf!" Brogur snapped. As the archers repelled as much of the advancing troops as they could the orcs in the courtyard took their defensive stances. The enemy started to seep into the keep. But some of them ran away from the shieldwall and orcish swords as fast as they entered. "They are nothing but cowards!" Brogur yelled "Show them the true power of an orchish defense!".

But that's when the trap snapped shut the hurdling and cowering footmen where in fact Necromancers the ruse used was to drop their weapons to lull the orcs into a sense of supremacy as soon as they where safe they started to ressurect the bodies the catapults had threwn in earlier. The courtyard battle didn't last long against the advancing reachmen and the dead that rose among them there wasn't a real defense capable of standingup against it. Brogur ordered the retreat to the keep's interior. The throneroom's inner gate was shut, studded and bolted. "Lord Grikar!" Brogur yelled "Get your wife and daughter to safety, go to the escape tunnels!". Grikar nodded and took his wife Broga and daughter Arasha down to the basement. He pulled away an old whinerack and pushed a brick to open an outward swinging hidden door. He pushed his wife and daughter inside and slammed the door shut. "Know that I love you." he said in loud voice but an orc lord never leaves his keep! He defends his own or dies trying!". "Father..." a young voice came through the wall but Grikar was already rushing back up the stairs.

At that moment a giant thunderclap shook the gate, while Grikar had brought Broga and Arasha to safety a group of 5 remaining necromancers had reasembled the bones scattered in the courtyard into the form of a giant bone golem. This monstrosity was bashing in the gate to the throneroom. After a few more bashes the hinges of the door started to tremble. "Fortify the gate!" Brogur yelled. At once the surviving guards rushed in to put their shoulders against the splintering wood. Then came the final clash the door swung inward with the force of a raging mammoth behind it. The guards where flung into the rooms interior a few where just squished between the door and the wall. The shock was so big that the giant support beam that held an ornate chandelier broke halfway though and it started raining down burning candles and hot wax. After a few idle swings from the guards that could still stand the only ones left alive where Grikar and his sergeant. "I'm... sorry my lord..." Brogur panted "The scouts... failed to mention... the... necromancers... pro... probably didn't noticed due to them... being diguised as regular footmen" it all came out in short gasps. "You fought honorably Brogur." Grikar said "Let us make our final stand together and die with honor.". "My lord..." Brogur said nodding as his grip tightened around his two-handed battleaxe.

The fight was way to short for the significance it held. Two orcs against a towering monstrosity fueled by dark magic. Brogur went in first slammed into the front of the golem with a force that actually staggered it a little as soon as he found his ballance he whipped around and with the blunt end of the axe struck the ankle of the right foot. This toppled the giant over backwards. Grikar took a leap and slammed his warhammed onto the brute's breast. The ribcage partially caved in and the warhammer slid into a open area between the surviving ribs effectivly trapping the weapon inside the monsters frame. At that moment the golem roared, crawled upright and slammed Grikar with a bone spiked fist. The right lung perforated and after a gasp Grikar suckumbed, dropped to his knees and keeled over with a last cough splaying a small puddle of blood on the ground. "My lord!" Brogur yelled as he turned to face his master. He rushed to Grikars side but it was to late, Grikar's eyes had rolled back into his skull, he was no more. "Vile arrogant ***!" Brogur yelled. He rushed the abomination but slid between the legs and with one fel swipe of his axe stuck down 3 necromancers standing behind the montrosity. The power of two was to few to fuel this unholy beast and after a few seconds the magic was spend and the bones toppeled to the ground. Brogur was completely spent the last defiling act of the keep came at the hand of one of the two remaining necromancers. "You are strong, Orc." he said with a slithering voice "Here you will die, but know that your soul will be used to power spell so vile that it could desecrate the cathedral in the Imperial City." He took a black souldgem out of his robes inner pocket mumbled some acrane words. Brogurs lips went white as the spell hit him. A moment later a curved dagger slid across his neck and as his blood drained out he felt his spirit being sucked into the gem.

The ordeal was finally over and the reachmen retreated after having razed the keep and taken anything of value. On the other side of the mountain a rock slid out from a formation of seemingly randomly stacked stones. Broga and Arasha emerged covered in dust and cobwebs. "Do you think father has made it?" Arasha said. "We'll know soon..." Broga's sentence cut short as she saw the smoke rise from behind the mountain. She dropped to her knees and wept sobbingly but silent. Arasha's face turned from the young orc female she had been to a force of vengeance she would become. "Don't cry mother..." She said in a stern voice "Maybe not today... but some day I will find them and then... they'll wish their deads had come swiftly!"
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Author's Note:
To all the people who read this story I hope you had as much pleasure reading it as I had writing it. The entire story was freely written and just came out of the top of my head without prior drafts. See you all in Tamriel and have a great day.

PS: Don't forget to appriciate your friendly neighbour Orc.
PPS: I'm not nativly english speaking so forgive me if there are some faults in the grammar of this story.
Edited by Jaybles on April 13, 2014 10:35AM
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