Better

[Tagrok]

-Not all stories end on a glorious note. Some simply end, while the world moves on.-

Tagrok paced uneasily in his tower. Despite the hurt, exhaustion and sleepless night, he continued pacing. “Return tomorrow at dawn.”, Bloodmoon had said. He knew that he shouldn’t have ambushed the sorcerer at this hour, but he could not wait. Finally, all three ingredients had been collected and it now hinged on the sorcerer’s preparations.

He thought about Feathers, who had been injured the previous night - his wing crushed in the maws of the enormous darkwolf. Tahara sent him away, despite the bruising slowly darkening her skin from the impact of being smashed against a tree by the beast’s tail. He looked down at himself, hands balling into fists with an angry growl. Of course he had gotten away without so much as a scratch. This was his hunt, to save his own sorry hide… And yet everyone else but him had to suffer for it. Sighing, he made his way outside. Perhaps the fresh air would help calm him down.

Arriving at the bonfire, Tagrok spotted an orc in a curious getup walking away. The way of walking, how the other orc held himself… “Bloodmoon.”

“Valorwind.  Just the Orc. I've just finished speaking with the Varog'gor.”, Gashuk answered as he turned after being called out. Tagrok looked at the garb, nodding after a short explanation before Gashuk continued with what mattered. The only thing that mattered.

“As for you. I've finished. You brought me the core of a fire elemental. That was to purge your body from all remaining corruption and filth. You brought me a wolf heart slain under a full moon no less. That was to reinvigorate your orcish spirit and return you to your roots. And finally, you brought me holy water. An important addition to cleanse what is left, and to keep you pure in your new revived being.”

Tagrok could only nod as the other orc continued, voicing his own doubt to the potency of the concoction that he would have to drink.

“Your situation is delicate and unique. I cannot be certain, but for all the research I have done, I believe this to be the best course of action. You will never be the same after this. Do you understand?”

The thought sent icewater down his spine. He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, his hands trembling subtly as he voiced his question. “W-What do you mean... Is it going to mess with my head?! I had enough of tha-..."

The other orc was quick to alleviate his fears. “No, no. It will cleanse, purify and renew your spirit. You will reconnect with what it means to be an Orc again. A new Tagrok. A better one.”

Better. Who could possibly argue with that? He’d give anything to be free of this dark feeling. If he were to become someone better… What could possibly be said against that? He followed Bloodmoon to a lone hut near the river, looking towards central Nagrand. Another sunny day, a light breeze. Quiet and serene, it still took his breath away.

“This spot is special to me. Do you know why?” Of course he did not know. He knew next to nothing about Bloodmoon until he spoke to him because of his condition. But the other orc quickly continued. “This is where I first met Rhonya and when I first fell in love with her.”

He could understand that. Although for him, it wasn’t quite the first meeting. For him it was a solitary log, precariously sitting over a small lake in Sunrock Retreat. It was a night filled with words, with awkward silences and remembering the past. Of listening endlessly and wondering why some orcs have to suffer.

Tagrok shook himself to cast the memory away as Gashuk continued. “Now. Two of the reagents you have given me need to be consumed raw. The Elemental Core however would burn you through, so I've concocted a potion to help you consume it. “ he stated matter-of-factly as he drew out three items. A small bright orange potion. A linen package seeping the faintest hint of red and a small vial of water. “First. The Fire Potion. Ingest it, withstand the pain, and feel all of your anguish burn away.”

He looked at the potion before grabbing hold of it.  Raising it to eye-level, he peered at the bright orange liquid. One more look at Bloodmoon and he uncorked it to down the contents. "Well that wasn't so ba-..."

Fire. No, molten slag crawled down his throat, searing and cauterizing at once as he felt the concoction wreak havoc on his insides. A cough rattled him, he began to uselessly fan at his maw before dropping the potion vial. Grabbing his own neck, he sunk to his knees soon after. "S-Sears my.... Insides...!"

Once again, the blood in his ears rose to beat like war drums - but the rhythm was off, as if the drummers could not keep pace with one another. He thought he heard hissing and the clattering of mandibles somewhere - before he was pulled back to reality by the agony.

Groaning in pain and gasping for breath, he stared at the ground through bloodshot eyes. He could hear Bloodmoon begin some incantation, the liquid seemingly combusting anew as he did so. “Now consume the heart! Take it all in! Become the Wolf you were born to be!”

He managed a short, cut-off roar as the incantation was performed before his shoulders began slumping - drawing in air through rattling breaths, reaching out for the heart with a trembling hand.  Squinting at it through tear-glazed eyes, Tagrok didn’t waste time complaining and began chomping on the raw darkwolf heart with a frown, tearing pieces away. "Ugh... B-urgh... Ancest-..." The texture wasn’t the worst. Nor was it the fat coating parts of its surface. The smell. Darkwolf really wasn’t something any sane orc would want to consume. And yet he continued until the whole of it had been consumed and trying his hardest not to throw up - mostly because the thought of the vile potion going up again terrified him.

Something was happening however: He felt hungry, not just for food. For everything. He wanted to yell, to laugh, to eat and drink. To track and hunt. To stalk prey. To kill. To…

Bloodmoon continued without waiting for the kneeling orc, shouting: “Perfect! I can see the purification taking place! Quickly, finish the cycle with the holy water whilst the magic holds!”

Tagroks eyes widened as he looked down at himself, staring down at his... Paws? He looked up at  Gashuk, still trembling from the course of fiery liquid and wolfheart before nodding vigorously. "R-Right..."  He paused for another moment before realizing his new form was but a glamour. His hand tightened around the vial, removing the top and downing the liquid like an orc dying of thirst… The effect was almost immediate. Like a flood crashing into a burning village, the vile taste of the heart and the searing lava in his stomach ceased to be, with only a cool, refreshing feeling being present. Bloodmoon continued to incant, sweat beading at his brow, as the fatigue began to kick in. He fell to his knees as the final soft words of power were uttered; Tagrok shimmered in the light of his ritual.

He breathed heavily, blinking as his illusionary snout rose to catch sight of the ritual-light - the glamour fading as he did so. "D-Did this w-work..? Ancestors, I'm thirsty..." Still on his knees, Bloodmoon managed to ask him how he felt. Tagrok lifted his hands, looking down at them and remaining quiet for a moment. "I... " Balling his fists, he nodded slowly. "I feel... Rested. At my peak... By Sharguul, has the day always been this..." He squinted, looking around. "Vibrant..?" The robed orc chuckled at that. “Like you could run for a week?”


“... I think I could manage two…”