A Traitors last Thoughts

[Azolg]

 (( Just a little something to show the final thoughts of Marvok as he died last night. RIP Marvok Silentstrike. For anyone who likes to listen to music while they read, this is what I wrote it too http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1sadZktyos))

Marvok Silentstrike - Died 27/5/13

We live in a world of fear.

As soon as the letter fluttered from his belt, he knew it was over. Rargnasha's eyes were set on the item before it even hit the floor, those piercing pits set on the seal with that deathly 'K' set upon it. Once those eyes had seen that, there was no going back. His cover was blown there and then. As the wolfs circled around him, some with eyes of confusion and some with reserved hatred he shambled out an excuse about some friend. But in truth his ability to lie and deceive others had finally drawn to a close. Marvoks time was up.

I'm done for. They won't forgive this, not if I continue to lie. His hands moved to his belt and he unstrapped his blades, tossing them to the side before raising his hands empty handed. There was no point in fighting any more, what would it achieve? A messy death and seen as a traitor. Better to come clean, and hope for a quick death.

As Rargnasha's eyes ate up the words before him, he indicated for Tzarket to secure Marvok. It was necessary after all. Not that he would have fought back. Not any-more.

The words seem to blur somewhat as Rargnasha's forehead connected with his nose, driving him to one knee. He spurted out his plea, begging to testify his madness before death. Yet the world was swimming. So many emotions struck him at once he could barely stop his eyes from welling up. A life of shame, a life of misery.

His thoughts glazed back to a time not so long ago, when he stood proud and tall amongst his fellow Kor'kron. There was no higher honour for him than to serve the great Warchief. Hindsight – it really is a bitch.

The Oath he had made, he had been bound to. Terrible deeds and disgraceful wrongdoings had been done in the name of this Oath and it was one he could not break. Not to an Orc he owed so much, for bringing him out of darkness, slavery. Madness. Yet it seemed that all he had done was escape one tyrant and fallen into the lap of another. Better the devil you know as they say.

The tears were flowing thickly now as he ordered the other Kor'kron to stop. He wanted no more death because of him. He'd never wanted that anyway, but you couldn't just say no to the Kor'kron. The fear of failing Hellscream was indescribable, it was the reason that drove him to follow Hellscream blindly into war, into battle. To follow each and every order down to a detail – And Marvok had played his part expertly. The fear that motivated him cause him to act even better than he dared hoped. It was the perfect ploy in the end, and had fooled even the High Blade and his Sister.

Rargnasha's voice cut through him like a knife as he asked for his explanation. Marvok's eyes welled up even more as he told his story. How he was bound by an Oath and the fear of breaking such an Oath kept him working. The words tumbled without effort as he relived the night he attacked his own Sister. Burning her bear and causing it to fall on her, before stringing her up hogtied. Even the mine was his idea, meant to be a trap for any rescuers, which had sadly been her own bear. Since that night he had laid away in torment, wishing he could have had the strength to drive the blade through his sorry excuse for a black heart. But he couldn't. Even the fear of dying with such little honour to his name kept him from taking his own life. In the end, Marvok was truly a weak-willed Orc, shaped and pursued by fear.

And so it came, the moment he had been waiting for. Rargnasha's words strolled into him like deaths own footsteps approached. Marvok was afraid, he was so terribly afraid yet he hoped that acting now, at the end he might have regained some of the honour that he lost in life. The honour that he threw away to serve a tyrant. The honour he lost when fear overtook him.

Rargnasha's boots clomped towards his prone form, and he heard a blade unsheathe. Tzarkets grip on his shoulder was almost unbearable now, yet he knew he it wouldn't be long now. The last few seconds lasted days, each breathe was a a hungry intake of air. Even his heart seemed to be throwing itself against his ribcage, as if a desperate bid to escape the ineviatable. Marvok thought of looking up into Rargnasha's face – But he could not bring himself to do so. Better to die with his head low, that way no Orc could see the shame on his face, the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Marvok was afraid, so terribly afraid. So terribly alone.

The blade came down, piercing the Orcs neck in one swift movement. There was a moment of pain, then nothing. His sight slowly faded as the electrical currents to his brain were severed. During the final moments, a last thought crossed his mind:

Thank you, High Blade.

[Rhonya]

That was a nice story... and at least Rhonya gave him a sort of super improvised proper Orcish burning ritual.. Poor Marvok!

[Thrash'Nak]

*Holds back the tears, rolls over, cries.. cries alot* :<