So one thing I like to do, despite whether my skill in doing so is actually good or not, is writing. Sure I would love if my writing could one day make me money, but for now all I do it for is just for fun. For the last year or so I have been on and off in writing small little stories I just conjured out of thin air out of the insane fantasies that run through my head. Someday I want to actually sit down and create my own world with its own story or even stories just to see if I can. Anyway I had a thought while looking at a holiday themed picture the other day.
What if I made a story based on a picture alone?
I got interested in this idea after my previous post for some reason, so I went through my picture folder, picked out a picture, and decided I would do a small story on it. I will already apologize for how horrible it probably will end up being. Not including grammatical errors and such.
Now depending on if you like to read or not this could be considered long for what I call just a small bit of fun, but I hope you enjoy it none the less if you decide to read it, also everything I am writing is just me creating it on the spot.
The Shadowtusk Clan was an old clan that relied heavily on tradition, these traditions both empowered and weakened the clan. One weakness that had shown up many times over the years is how easily manipulated the clan can be when it came to choosing the next Warchief. Tradition stated any Orc that desired the position of Warchief was to challenge the current Warchief to Kol’gahash, a tournament style fight to the death, where the victor was named Warchief. This is precisely what Logash desired despite the fact he was Tollva, an outcast.
For centuries the Shadowtusk Clan has resided in the Skull’thec Mountains attacking travelers in the numerous passes and raiding nearby human villages in the nearby plains during the night. The centuries residing in caves had made the clan lean and quick compared to their southern cousins whom resided on the plains of Vanga and boasted being quite larger physically. Logash had travelled from Vanga to Skull’thec to meet his family for he was a half blood. His father, a warrider of one of the clans on Vanga, had met and betrothed a lost Shadowtusk Orc. Logash was the child on the union but due to his skin color he was an outcast to all clans of Vanga.
Leaving Vanga he had taken a journey to Skull’thec where due to his physical attributes inherited from his father, he was equally considered an outcast to the Shadowtusk. Despite being an outcast though he was not sent away from the clan as his family there had protected him and allowed him sanctuary. Over course of the next few years he learned much about the ways of the Shadowtusk, including Kol’gahash, and that is when he knew what he wanted to do. Going to where the Warchief resided Logash challenged him so that he may become Warchief and finally belong where he wanted to be.
Vezhu the current Warchief laughed at the outcast, as did his entire family. Spitting on Logash he agreed to the challenge, and the following month was spent in preparation. Kol’gahash was a tournament style fight to the death that the current Warchief was able to choose how it worked as long as it followed some simple tradition guidelines. There could be no more than ten combatants including the challenger and the one being challenged. Honor must be upheld and fights will be done fairly. The clan is to watch and observe the fight they are to abide by whomever the victor is, if they do not wish to have this victor be Warchief, they are to challenge them to another Kol’gahash.
Vezhu was hardly loved by the clan. His greed had taken much that was intended for the clan itself and he often was reckless in attacking the nearby Humans thinking that the would never retaliate. As such the only ones to stand with him in the arena were his two sons. Meanwhile Logash, while offered assistance by nearly a dozen from the clan, stood by himself on the opposite side of the arena. The gong that sounded the start of the battle echoed across the caverns as both of Vezhu’s sons jumped at Logash.
While not quick Logash made up for his lack of speed in brute force. Underestimating just how strong he was one of Vezhu’s sons was quickly dispatched by Logash’s blade as it sundered through both armor and flesh protecting his skull. Seeing his brother cleaved in two the other quickly launched himself backwards putting distance between him and Logash. He let out a guttural cry and spat on the ground, all he had brought to the fight was his signature curved daggers and so had no way to attack from a distance. Yet he knew despite his speed he would not make it out alive from looking at the towering Orc in front of him.
Glancing over to his father he received a hand signal that they would attack at the same time. Vezhu charged in with his large spiked club and proved why he was the current Warchief. Though much leaner than Logash his strength was nearly equal and Logash was using every ounce of his strength just to stand toe to toe as their weapons were locked together neither giving up an inch of footing. Rushing from the side Vezhu’s son slashed at Logash’s side, while his blade only bounced off Logash’s armor, it made Logash lose his footing, and he rolled out of the way as Vezhu’s club crashed into the ground.
Logash pulled himself up after barely avoiding the attack that left a hole in the ground where the club impacted. Roaring with a deafening sound Logash rushed in with his blade and swung with his full strength at Vezhu as he recovered from his own attack. Vezhu was a fighter through and through, and knew that he did not have the time after his previous attack to block the attack with his weapon and so he abandoned his weapon there and jumped away from the rampaging Orc that was after him. His son though was unaware of what was going on and attempted to stop Logash by going for another side attack.
But what he met was instead the full force of Logash’s blow as Logash pivoted and swung his blade in an arc that cleaved through his chest. Vezhu stared as his final son toppled over, blinded by rage Vezhu charged Logash grabbing the spear his first son had dropped in his death and lunging at Logash. Logash dodged the spear and kicked Vezhu to the ground, the spear going far out of reach to be used. Pushing Vezhu down with his foot Logash swung his sword down, removing Vezhu’s head from his body.
Grabbing the head Logash turned to the clan who had observed the fight and roared at the top of his lungs, “For the Shadowtusk!” as the entire clan kneeled before their new Warchief he began to plan how he would lead his clan to new glory.