The Last Dance

[Razaron]

The Last Dance

Heartblood was a small Bleeding Hollow village in the eastern side of Tanaan Jungle and the atmosphere this night was was reaching fever pitch. The clan were celebrating a great hunt in their usual spirited way, they were drinking, dancing and wrestling in front of a large fire. The drinks they were all consuming were highly potent concoction of alcohol, blood, herbal stimulants and pretty much anything else the shamanic cabalists could get their hands on. This left the orcs in an intoxicated state, some could handle it better then others and Gorgush was one of them. He was sitting beside his only son Razaron, Razaron was admiring the joyful antics of his clan, this was indeed a great night to be apart of the Bleeding Hollow clan or so Razaron thought. Gorgush had a face of concern, something was troubling him greatly.

Razaron looked up and noticed the conflict within Gorgush, “Father, don’t you enjoy this anymore?” Razaron said with a edge of caution. “Do you even know why we do this?” Gorgush grunted. “For fun-fun?” Razaron quipped and was quickly slapped across the face, Razaron didn’t know if it was what he said or if it was because he stuttered. “NO!” yelled Gorgush, “We honor the spirits, this be a spirit dance! Those drinks they devour loosen the path to the spirit realm as we show our respects to our ancestors and those that watch over us as close as possible!” snapped Gurgush. Razaron began to rub his face where is father struck him, a bruise was already starting to appear. “But-but, I didn’t know.” Razaron cautiously remarked. “You don’t know enough, this is why I am sad.” Gorgush frowned with a heavy heart.

“Change is coming son, I warned you before and it’s nearly time. You are seven now and soon I will not be here.” Razaron worriedly watched as his father continued to speak. “The vision I was granted has warned me of future events that will occur, I do not know how they end for you but I know that my time with you is running out.” Gorgush stare was fixed on Razaron, it was as if he was looking into his very soul. “I will be heading to war with the Orge kingdoms soon and then there will be a even greater war, but for now you will be left here to continue to grow of age.” Gorgush looked his son up and down and sighed. “You are still too young to accompany me to war, but I have friends here who will watch over you.” Gorgush was a respected elder of his clan and could pull a few strings when needed. “But enough of that, I think it’s about time you got use to this!” Gorgush reached around to his back and grabbed a hold of his fearsome axe and held it out for Razaron. “This axe is a heirloom passed down from our bloodline, it is now time you have it!” Razaron looked in awe of the axe and then back at his father with a concerned face, “But father, what about you-you?” Gorgush frowned, “I will make do, you need to practice with our ancestral axe.” Razaron reached out and took a hold of the axe, his father then let go and the weight of it nearly made Razaron drop it too the ground. The axe was far too heavy for Razaron, but he tried to hide any weakness in front of his overbearing father and used both hands to grip the axe before resting it too his side. Gorgush smiled, “Name it whatever you want, the secrets of this axe are long forgotten but for now it’s yours till it’s passed on again.” Gorgush put his large hand on Razaron’s head and scuffled his black hair, this would be the last time they witnessed a Bleeding Hollow celebration together.

[Kozgugore]

Great stuff! And also just a teensy bit sad, for that matter. I do love the visual additions you include in your story too! Makes reading it a lot more tempting!

[Kaigron]

Love the images with this, also nothing stirs me up like a weapon backstory!

[Okiba]

Aww, family partings always make me sad  D:

Wonderfully done once again, and I remain hungry for more!