A kings Downfall

[Grogok]

The setting sun had begun to kiss the horizon, as Kargnar finally made a stop at a cliff overlooking the ogre stronghold beneath him. He had been on the move since early the same day, as he had left garadar with the moon at his back. It was his hunt that had brought him here, from the moment he heard it was Githya Redblade that had spoken of the trail, he had known what his target was to be, and now as the sun was setting on Blade’s edge mountains, his preparations were complete.

Kargnar turned to look at the great half-garn by his side, and to the three ogre heads tied to the saddle. Since the horde and alliance presence had waned, the ogres had over the many years, managed to rebuild their presence, and their strength. They had gathered under a new so called ogre king, and if the rumours were to be believed, he was one who ruled with an ironfist, supported by three advisors and commanders who carried out his orders, or so they had done until recent. Kargnar let out a humoured snort, as he eyed the first two heads, their mouths open in a scream of pain and surprise. The first two had fallen easily, the first out of hubris as he so readily met the to him unknown orc. The second out of anger at seeing his, fellow advisors head hanging as an ornament from an orcs saddle.  The third had proven more tricky, he had laid a trap for Kargnar as he came for his head, and had in the meanwhile tried to flee back here, either to seek protection or warn them. He had however as so many before him underestimated the speed and strength of Duskrime, the great half-garn that had been Kargnars companion for a few years now, and as a result they had caught up to him way before he had reached his destination, and the head now adorned the saddle, just as the other two.

He once more looked away from the saddle, and to the ogre stronghold. From his position on the cliff, as the last rays of the sun bathed the stronghold, he could see the ogres running around, panic and preparations in equal measure, they knew he were coming, and that was exactly what he wanted. He set to build a huge fire, one that the ogres in the stronghold below would be able to see, as a signal that he was close, and that he was not afraid. He did not fear any sneak attacks in the night, the ogres were already in disarray from losing their three commanders, and the display of the fire would only sent a fright through them or so he hoped. He himself had no plan of sleeping, to many things to check up on before the final battle.

As the fire were roaring and lighting up the area, Kargnar sat down his armor spread in front of him as he started to inspect each piece for any weaknesses in the metal, but outside of a few scratches that always would come from armor being used, there were none to be found. He had expected this, he took pride in keeping his gear in proper shape, something he always told to the nag’ogar to do as well, but it never suited him to be impulsive, nor take chances. As he was done with checking the plates of the armor, he started on the leather straps and harnesses, checking them for tears, cracks and if they were dried out. Satisfied they were also in good shape, he went about his business of oiling them. They might be in pristine shape now, but they would only stay that way with constant care. Having finished his own set of armor, he moved to do the same to Duskrimes, giving it the same care and attention as he had given his. Working on the two sets of armor had taken hours, but the orc were still not finished. He sat down by the fire once more, and places his axe across his legs, he ran his finger across the blade, and the handle. The axe had been his father’s, but despite the many years it had laid dormant, it was still in perfect shape. Still Kargnar started checking every piece of leather, and sharpening the axe, his battle was tomorrow and he would be ready.

As he finished his work on the axe, the first sun rays of the new dawn tickled his face, and he nodded to himself, as he got up and equipped his armor, as he placed the wolf mask onto his head he knelt down by the now burned out fire, and rubbed his fingers in the ash before applying a thin layer on his face before he looked to Duskrime “It’s time” He said and the wolf let out a low growl as it knelt down to better let kargnar get into the saddle. They were not in a hurry, and as such they simply walked down the path, disappearing from view of the stronghold for a time. Though it only took a small half an hour before he was back, this time on a direct path towards the stronghold, sun at his back as he casually rode towards the ogres, who started yelling and pointed at him. As he came closer he lifted up both his hands, in one he held the three heads of the ogre commanders, in the other a warhorn, orcish runes etched into them and it was plated with gold. A confident smile came to his lips as he stopped just out of reach of any archers or mages they might have, not that he expected they would attack, but by going so openly someone could easily be tempted to try. He put the warhorn to his lips and with a deep breath, he sent out a long loud tone, that reverberated along the lines of canyon they had made their stronghold in, the sound continuously growing, and it’s intent was clear, a challenge. As the sound was finally slowly disappearing again, kargnar hurled the three heads far ahead of him, for all to see as they landed between him and the ogres and then he waited.

For a long while there was silence, and at the end of it Kargnar was wondering if this so called ogre king had ran away rather than face this challenger, but then it began. First it was a low rumble but then it became more as the sound of several drums started playing, and cheers rose from the ogres. It was then Kargnar saw him, an ogre a good head taller and a good bit wider than the rest, on his ugly head rested an ugly helmet, made from bone and steel, and in the ogres meaty hands, he had a nasty looking warhammer. Yet Kargnar didn’t flinch, and as the drums eventually stopped and the ogre king stood in front of the gathered ogres he spoke. “I am Kargnar Bloodpaw! Rrosh’tul of the Red blade clan! And I challenge you! May you provide more of a challenge than your advisors!” Kargnars voice, trained for years in shouting to be heard on a battlefield echoed in the now silent canyon, and a few of the ogres involuntary took a step back. Then a roar of laughter came from the ogre king “Now why would I do that! I have an army!” he yelled back. It was clear that he felt proud of himself, that was until he could see the fanged grin Kargnar presented his words with “So did they” He says pointing to the commanders “But in the end, they didn’t want to appear a coward, but I guess a king who hides in the mountain, and is surrounded by weak commanders, knows not how to fight” The words hit home as the ogres behind the king started to mutter, leaving the ogre king with only one way out, to defeat this interloper who had insulted him and killed his advisors, with a nod he agreed and stepped forward and Kargnar swung out of his saddle, and grabbed his axe.

The battle wasn’t overly long, despite the strength and size of the ogre king, he had met his match. Kargnar had many years of experience in fighting, even things larger and stronger than himself,  and all he had to do was to stay on his feet, every time the ogre king swung at him, he either dodge below it, or stepped to the side, before delivering a cut to the arms or the legs. Kargnar knew one hit was all it took for him to lose, and it was also why he did not take any stupid chances, he let cut after cut, slowly tire out the larger opponent, waiting for that inevitable mistake that would come, when the large ogre had had enough. Kargnars mind was locked on that sole task, and he spotted it before the move even had been made, a slight adjustment of the ogres shoulders as he made ready to deliver a huge crushing blow, as the warhammer was brought back, kargnar leapt forward, and with a single swing of his axe, the head of the ogre king landed on the ground, followed by a loud boom as the body followed. Then once again came the silence, the ogres not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Kargnar went about his business and collected the larger ogres head “some king you were” He mutters, before returning and picking up the three other heads, hanging them from his saddle, and before anyone could react he rode off again, letting out another loud tone from his warhorn, that would stay echoing long after he had left.