Shattered lands, shattered bones.

[Therak]

Pain, it felt like every bone in his body had been stomped on by a crew of dancing Tauren, every muscle was as sore as if he had worked non-stop in the smithy for days. Just lying down hurt, and trying to turn his head to see where he were was out of the question. Gruthikks face was so swollen he could barely see anything at all, but from what he could gather he was indoors, and there was a staircase above him. The air was humid and the smell of stale water filled what little of his nostrils he could breathe through. A few times he had tried to call on the tribe through the spirits, but even trying to tap into it had made him drift into the blessed relief of unconsciousness.
Suddently someone was there. Speaking to him in a soothing voice, it was clearly orcish, but the words just didn't make sense. It was as if he was listening through water, and the speaker was a drunkard close to passing out.
A wet piece of cloth was pushed to his lips, and squeezed, drops of water running past his parched lips, even swallowing was agony, but the water soothed his throat slightly.
The voice spoke again, and a gentle pat on his shoulder followed it, as the world faded out again.
Next time the oversized orc came to, there were other voices, he still couldn't understand what they said, and something in the back of his head said he should be worried about it, the swelling around his eyes had gone down a bit, and he could see two orcs, a male and a female talking to eachother, as they spoke they grew more and more agitated, wildly waving their arms and yelling. Gruthikk tried to shift to see better, but the pain once again shot through his body, leaving him gasping for air. The two orcs quickly stopped yelling, glaring at eachother. The male went out of sight, but Gruthikk could still hear the sounds of a fire being started, while the female began digging around in various jars, taking herbs and putting into a bowl. Exhaustion quickly got the better of Gruthikk and again, his conciousness drifted away.
Somewhere far, far away, someone was moving firm hands over his ribs. Carefully probing and pushing, it hurt, not as bad as he had expected it to, but enough for him so snap his eyes open, to stare up at the male orc who was slowly testing his ribs. The orc was not young anymore, the wild black hair had streaks of grey in it, there were hints of wrinkles around his eyes. Noticing that Gruthikk was now awake, he smiled reassuringly down, before saying something. The tone of his voice gave the impression that it was a question, and as he repeated the same phrase, Gruthikk was certain it was so. The blacksmith tried to answer, to say that he didn't understand, but only guttural sounds came out. The older orc smiled down again, patting his shoulder before calling out. Gruth could hear footsteps aproaching, and soon the female orc was pushing a small bowl to his lips, Gruthikk drank eagerly, a bit too eagerly and was soon wrecked by hacking coughs. The orcess moved the bowl away from him, letting him recover before letting him finish the broth, slower this time.
When he was done with the broth, the male said something to the female, pointing down at Gruthikks chest, she answered, and soon they were quietly discussing something.
The female seemed to be about the same age as the male, if the wrinkles around the eyes were anything to judge by. Her hair was still burning clear and red though, kept in a tight ponytail.
Soon Gruthikk drifted off to sleep again, days passed like this, and eventually Gruthikk was allowed out of the bed, taking a step on his own before his legs folded beneath him. But he was allowed to sit up, and for the first time, eat real food. Roasted crokolisk. The old couple kept trying to ask Gruthikk questions, but as before, the words didn't make any sense at all.
As they ate, mostly communicating with gestures, a loud rumbling pierced their ears, and suddently the earth shook, and then erupted. Suddently there were stone and wood everywhere, once again pain shot through every fibre in Gruthikks body, and everything turned dark.

Agony, pain, bright light and cold wet rain. Something heavy was lifted off Gruthikk, and the grimy faces of orcs peered down at him, shouts were immediately raised, and strong hands dragged more stone and wood off the smith. Before dragging the smith out of the pouring rain and in under an improvised tent with wounded. The groans of pain filled the air, and as firm hands began examining Gruthikks bones, pain flared up and ripped him back into blissful nothingness.
it was warmer when he once again opened his eyes. Indoors, in a cramped building, he could feel bodies all around him. For once, he didn't hurt. He was just... numb. He knew he was in pain, but it was as if the body simply was not his. Spending some time staring up into the cieling, trying to make sense of what happened, but getting nowhere. Before the old orc who had tended to him before came in view, his eyes had a haunted look and his shoulders were stooped with what seemed to be exhaustion, as he moved around among the wounded, tending to their wounds. He eventually got to Gruthikk, and gave him something to drink, before moving off, Gruthikk wondered where the other orc who had tended to him was as he once again slipped away from the world around him.

[Morgeth]

Loved this story, because - for one thing - it's so well described that I can easily see it happening. Poor Gruthikk. I hope there'll be more?

[Therak]

Gruth isn't dead, and I hope to be found at the event tonight... There'll be some changes to him after this ofcourse...