Dig to Freedom

[Grodok]

Clanging of Metal on stone rings throughout the dim lit cavern, A low hum and faint word of song, sung by burden-ridden throats, Coarse and dry, Without a glint of happiness ringing out with each whisper. The occasional whip crack is heard, followed by hearty laughter.. followed by snarls and whimpers. This is the life of a slave, in a cave.

A lack of structure or support renders everyone within the cave, in fear, fear of losing their, fear of losing their loved ones, fear of them not knowing if their friend, father, mother, has died. A thick smog clings to the throats of anyone whom step into the Cave, choking and maddening. Coal-dust and stones riddle the skin of every slave.

Within a tight corridor, several sleeping bags, ripped, torn.. some even sacks of old food, Still coated in blood or juice. Tight and pact together.. like meat in a market.

Shuffling from his sleeping bag, a Grizzled orc stirs, his white-eyes flicker open, yawning lightly and raising to a seating posistion, he removes himself from his bag and throws it to the next slave, A young troll, tusks sprouting from his jaw only slightly. 'Marit, Use this friend, get some good rest'

'Thank ya Grodok' The troll murmers, his voice sounding like gravel.

Grodok rises to his knees, only for the sound of feet storming into the Cavern, many of the slaves cower into corners, Marit clutches the bag tightly and hops, much like a chimp, into the darkest corner he can find, Grodok turns his blind eyes towards the sound, Baring his teeth as the Slavers step in, All human. They immediately produce batons and begin to beat him, his spine, his head and his feet, with each strike he feels all the pain from the previous night return, his near skin-less hands burning, his Head rining out like an old bell from a church, his Ankles at breaking point. 'Enough now ye' gits!' A plump dwarf steps from behind his henchman. Grinning down at Grodok and lightly strokes his own Beard, Adorned with Teeth, One per slave.. there must be at least thirty visible.

'Yer best be gettin' up.. scum' the dwarf whispers menacingly

Grodok gives him a cold look, as best he can with his blind eyes, but slowly stands, clutching his hands together before picking up his pickaxe.
'My family.. where ar-'

Feeling a baton stroking down the side of his face he silences himself, Baring his teeth once more he growls lowly, before slining his pickaxe over his shoulder. 'Dabu..'

He exists his cavern promptly, shutting his eyes as the screams begin to ring in his ears of his fellow Slaves in the cavern, As they are brutally beaten. Bones crunch, the sound of blood splatting on walls, Some struggles shortly followed by what can be described as the snapping of the neck, and a murder.

Grodok gently pats one of his fellow workers, he turns to the old Orc and smiles warmly 'Grodok.. i thought they got you'

'No my boy, An' they never shall, get to work' He whispers, passing a brief smile to the young Orc.

Clang, Clang, Clang. This is the song of the slave, the chorus of the captured. Grodok wipes his mind blank of all but his family outside, in the camps, Hitting away.. each rock becoming the face of one of his captors.

'Any Mineral shall be submited to the foreman! Or you shall be beaten to death and your family's murdered!' shouts a slaver. A rough looking man, missing a few teeth and an unkempt beard. His yellow grin flashes in the candle light of his lantern. He bites down into an apple, loud enough to be tortures to the ears.. the sound of the crunching draining hope from some, he chortles as he wanders off, Proud.

'Spirits.. Save them all from this.. please.' Grodok's plea is met only with silence, He begins to hit harder, and harder, until his pickaxe breaks. The cheap metal splitting.

'Best go see the foreman.. before you get beaten.'

Grodok nods once and trudges up the path of the cave for a minute, then more time.. and more. Till eventually his body is met with the kiss of sunlight and fresh air. He breathes deep, a small smile spreading over his lips.

'Broke anyother one y'old cunt?' Shouts the foreman. The same dwarf from earlier steps forwards, Grodok takes note of his how heavy his steps are, and how struggled his breathes are. '  'ere are.. Idiot' Grodok has a pickaxe planted next to his foot, near impaling it.

'Watch it.' Grodok snarls

'Ooh, Mister big tough orc gonna get me eh? Back to the cave.. slave. And take this with you.' A sack is thrown at him, it wriggles wildly and muffled snarling is heard.

Food? Thought Grodok, unwraveling the sack, the contents launch at him, immediatley reaching his throat as sharp yet small teeth latch onto him. He grabs the creature by the head, Yanking it off some of his throats skin is dragged with it. 'F-father! I'm sorry!' The creature.. a young orc, Eight years old, His Raven Black hair falling down to his waist, his unwashed face scared with sadness and grief.

'Son..! Thank ye' foreman..' Grodok takes his boy into his arms and hugs him tightly. It'd nearly been a year since he'd seen him, he holds him tightly and brings him near to tears. The warmth of his son returning hope to the old orcs heart.

'Oh no.. this aint a gift boyo, this's a new slave' He chuckles loudly 'He's yer new carrier!' Have fun swines!

Grodok is shoved roughly onto his feet and pushed towards the cave, still holding his son, he holds him close as he begins to descend into the inky blackness.. 'Hold your breath Torsok'
The sound of the young orc choking fills the cave as he descends. By the time they reach the sleeping-pit, The young orcs breath already sounds harsh, he lays him next to Marit.

'Who be dis?' Marit questions, Looking to the Pup.
'This be me son, Marit, Please care for him whilst I be gone'
Marit gives a short nod as Grodok places the Young Orc in the trolls lap, The troll wraps the Child in his sleeping bag and leans back trying to sleep.
Torsok frowns as Grodok walks out of the pit. 'F-father?'
'There's no room for weakness here, son, Toughen up or you'll be consumed by.. this hell. Hide for now.'

Grodok steps out. Realizing he forgot his pickaxe.. though he finds one placed in his hand curtly. 'This is yours now, this weakling has been used up.'
'G-grodok..' A faint murmer is heard, the Orc from earlier whom he worked with, flat out on his back. Exhausted, Disorientated and near death.. he reaches out a hand towards Grodok, only to be dragged further up the tunnels.
'Where are y'taking him?!' Grodok barks.

'To the furnance, where else? Fool.' The Slaver snaps

'But he's not dead! Can't you see that?! Are you so stupid to throw away this life?' Grodok's chest begins to burn in anger. Despite all the pain he's in, he finds himself some new found energy.

'You little..' The Slaver draws his baton and moves to strike Grodok. With his new found energy Grodok raises his arm to block the baton, the blunt force striking his aching bones with pain, The Foreman, with a face of shock as he has not fallen, Yells for help, the sound of thundering feet begin in the cavern, though they are atleast ten minutes away.

Grodok rips the baton from his hand and picks up the slaver, the scrawny, yellow-toothed Human. He raises him up against the wall by the throat. Choking him with fury in his eyes, Fingers claw at Grodok's face, a thumb begins to pierce his left eye, He shakes his head free only to snap down on the thumb, biting it clean off. Grodok throws the slaver to the floor, And begins to pound.. and pound.

With blood soaked hands.. a bloody mess left on the floor, Grodok leans in close to the mess and whispers..
'You saught to take everything from me.. but now I've taken everything from you.'
He roars in victory, the other slaves joining his choir.. before being struck across the head, falling flat and awakening to outside.. warm.. a foot against his head.

Trying to move but finding himself bound to the Floor, he roars out in anger.
'Calm this beast! He must hear what I have to say!' Shouts the foreman.
After this remark, Grodok is met with a multiple batons to his spine, He wheezes and slumps on what he thought is a headblock
'Y'killed one of my men.. not one of my best.. but we heard what you said, and in actual fact.. we have taken everything from you now, You may not be able to see it but..' The orc gives a sarcastic sigh. 'Ooh I'm sorry to say it but yer missus was a beauty.. was. Dosnt look so pretty without skin. Oh and your wee boy... bring 'em oot!' The foreman barks.. as the sound of a crying orc is heard, not Torsok, This was his youngest, Larik. He is thrown to the floor, screaming, only three years of age. As the sound of howling dogs sounds.. and a cage swings open.

The Barks fly in the air, excited yampers. As chomping is heard.. the screaming intensifies.
'Larik! Larik! My boy no! Grodok roars out in pain.. his heart weighing heavy as the sound of squirting blood is heard, his child falling silent, the sound of tearing flesh and gurgled eating from the dogs. The child, torn limb from limb and devoured by animals. The child's screams echoing in Grodok's mind still, he shakes his head wildly, almost going beastial.

'Not so big now are we.. but what else have we got to take..'  The foreman chuckles darkly as he snaps his fingers. The sound of dragging filling Grodoks ears.

'You've taken my Mate.. my child! What more is there to take from me you coward! I'll rip you in half! Your legacy will be of how fast you lost your pathetic life! I will condem you to torture for all eternity if it's the last thing I do!'

'Oh y'should no' 'ave said that.. were gonna spare 'im en all.. shame.'

Torsok is thrown into the center of the courtyard. Guards clapping loudly as the young boy, beaten and bloodied, gets on his feet, squatting as he crawls over to his father, though is stopped by a blade. 'That's far enough boy, thats the end.. of everything.' A cloaked figure taunts the boy.. and his father darkly, cracking his neck

'No! Don't you dare murder this boy! Have you no honor! He is a child!' Grodok roars out again, the fury in his heart.. his body, fueling him as he begins to pull on his bindings, the laughter covering the sound of his Rope snapping.. bit by bit.

'Father.. I f-' Swing! Tosork is silenced by the swing of a blade.. little to Grodok's knowledge he was staring his boy in the eyes.. as he was beheaded.. the sound of a falling head drums like thunder in Grodok's head, going completely blank, Staring at where his boy's head once was.. a single tear falls from his eye 'No..'

The Foreman, The fat Dwarf, picks up the head of his child and moves it infront of his face 'Give ye daddy a kiss' He presses Tosorks still-warm head to Grodoks lips. He laughs loudly as a war cry is sounded from the Nearby Jungle.. in Zandali, Trolls pour forth from their surroundings and begin to murder everyone in sight.

The courtyard is full of slavers and trolls now, Grodok still in his bindings next to his freshly murdered son. With a war cry of his own and a roar of defience, He rips his final bondings, entering a blood frenzy he stands tall, Screaming, Roaring bloody murder as images of his Family fly past his mind, Their smiles.. their hugs, their touches, their laughs.. Unknowingly he has the foreman on his back, and has begun to rip the clothes from his body, his Claw-like nails now digging into his flesh, the Dwarf struggles to no avail, as his stomach is ripped open and his organs begin to get torn from their home.
'Torsok! Larik! Koriksa!' He screams their names over and over again, His Mate, Koriksa, So beautiful and pure.. a strong woman.. birthing strong children.. now for naught.

With his hands soaked in blood. He beats the head of the Foreman, Till it caves.
With all the confusion all of the slaves have ran free into the jungle, some caught in wrath of the trolls, as they too were invaders.
The camp falls silent.. only the trolls left who form a circle around Grodok. He picks up the head of his Torsok, A foot of Larik.. and rips his Mate's hanging corpse from her pedestal, clutching them all tightly as he turns to the trolls. All sense of calm and Quiet he had.. that the camp has, turns into Rage and fury, he drops everything.. not just physically, but mentally. Going quite empty.. he roars out loudly. Accepting the end.. He roars over and over again, snarling and growling like a beast.. the trolls seem uneasy, not many are left.. they begin to close in...

'Get away from me brudda!' A familiar voice leaps down infront of Grodok, a Warglaive in hand, stinking of Blood.
'Ya go now mon.. i 'andle dis' Marit whispers lowly, He pushes his head to Grodok once and begins to step forwards to the trolls.

Grodok blinked once.. 'Marit no.. I, I Shant leave you!' He pleads.
'Go now mon, or we both be dead!' He shouts at Grodok, Pushing him towards the rear-exit.
Before he can argue, Marit is stabbed in the gut with a spear. 'GO!' He barks
Grodok turns and begins to run as best he can with a limp. Bumbling into things in his enraged and Dazed state. ' Your sacrafice shall not be forgotton, Brother! I will come back for you!' Grodok shouts, before heading out into the wild.. the sound of clashing steel becoming white noise.. He runs forwards blindly, unsure of what he will find.

'I shall never... run again, Marit.. Larik.. Torsok.. Koriksa.. You will never be forgotten' He thinks to himself, He collapses to his knees. Exauhsted, looking to the sky as he shouts out:

'Spirits! If i am ever present near anothers dying breath! Take me instead! Too many have died for me already! I ask this of you! I beg you! Restore my honor.. for my family, for marit'. The mental image of his youngest child being ripped to shreds by dogs fills his head, the headless corpse of Torsok, His mate, strung up and flayed..

'Why couldn't I have just kept digging.. They would still be here' He looks to the floor and collapses. His head spinning as his mind fades to black.

[Rashka]

*Gives Grobro all the huggles*

[Okiba]

oh...

...wow   D: