A Warchief's Farewell

Kruntz had only wanted one thing, to be strong. The burden of Warchief had proven to be too much. He wasn't strong enough to lead what few Stormrage there were, how could he possibly have the strength to lead all the future Stormrage in this condition? Kruntz was not giving up his title. He was, and would always be, Warchief of the Stormrage, but he had to leave, his clan deserved better than this. He had once stood against a tyrant, he had sailed across uncharted seas. He had begun the resurrection of the Stormrage from their final resting place. He had battled for Castle Havenswatch to his dying breath, wielding his sword, Blitz, and his shield, Donner, in a stalwart defense against all who would seek to harm her. Why couldn't he be strong enough for his own kin? Could he really abandon them during the reign of a dirty dwarf?


These things passed through his mind as Kruntz turned back to look at his home one last time. He did not know if he could ever return from this quest for power, but he had to try, for his clan, for his ancestors.

Kruntz looked his current form over with disgust. He wouldn't leave as a coward, behind an elaborate mask. He would leave as Kruntz Stormrage, Warchief of the Stormrage Orcs. Shaking off his veil of Siegfried, Kruntz proudly passed through the moonlit streets, head held high. He had no fear for the night's watch. He could easily slay any opponents he would meet on this bitterly cold night.

Kruntz was at the borders of the kingdom now. One last look over his shoulder, everything he had ever knew, all that he had worked for, was now behind him. Kruntz closed his eyes and stepped through the border. It was... similar, he had expected a great change by stepping across this line... but, he felt exactly the same. The same oppressive weight lay on his shoulders, just as before. Turning around, Kruntz let loose a emotion-filled howl, filled with all the rage, sorrow, and helplessness he felt at what lie before him. He spoke softly,

"Your Warchief will return, I will not completely abandon you to the will of this pathetic dwarf king. I swear it!"

And with that solemn promise, Kruntz turned his back on Havenswatch, on the Stormrage, on everything he knew. His quest for the strength to lead his clan had begun.

The Stormrage orc had run for the better part of the night yet there was still a few hours of darkness when suddenly a wave of exhaustion hit fierce like a hammer. Kruntz slowed and bent double, his heart pounding wildly. Even had he run at a dead sprint all night he did not think he should be so tired. Perhaps his leisurely days of serving with the militia had taken a toll on him that he had not realized, or something else. The orc panted heavily and looked about him, finding only a fallen log to sit on for a moment. No sooner had he sat down and leaned back against another tree did his eyes close to rest and a heartbeat later he found himself asleep.
He knew it was a dream the second he opened his eyes and looked about. He was no longer on a hilly forested slope, but in a clearing surrounded by great stone pillars. Kruntz felt looked about the great pillars, and knew they meant something, perhaps from his childhood. Each of the great pillars represented something he thought to himself. At once a looming ghostly orc strode out from the tallest pillar. The orc looked similar to Kruntz, but had many, many scars across his face and chest. Atop the giant orc a gleaming silver crown studded with many gems sat proudly. At its side a familiar sturdy sword sat sheathed. Kruntz knew that sword, Stormrage, sword of his ancestors and suddenly recognized where he was, in the home of his ancestors, and with that thought, suddenly he could see past the pillars, and see the city sprawl out foggily behind them. The orc king spoke suddenly, catching Kruntz off guard. “My great, great grandson, you are here for a reason.” Kruntz looked up in awe. “You are running from your destiny, tell me why?”
Kruntz opened his mouth to speak but found no words would come out.
“I see” spoke the elder “You fear you are not ready to lead. I will help you to understand, none are ever truly ready to lead, not even I when I was young like you.” The old orc smiled at Kruntz “You have all the tools at your disposal to take your place as the rightful ruler of the Stormrage clan. Nothing you find, wandering the world lost will help you more than coming to the realization that you are ready to lead, than facing your fears and to take that first step.” Suddenly the figure wavered and almost faded away.
“Grandfa…” Kruntz croaked out, but couldn’t finish before the figure suddenly wavered back.
“Kruntz Stormrage, there is something you must do if you wish to have the power of your ancestors follow you into battle.” The orc spoke solemnly. “Go then, back to Havenswatch, there is a grove in the hills west of the goblin woods. That is where our people first lived, when we migrated to this place. Before the time when the great dragon slew hundreds of our number, and we were forced to flee to the mountains above the castle.”
Kruntz listened carefully as his ancestor continued. “You must travel to that place, and there you will find a stone slab with a magic rune upon it. That rune is trapping the souls of all the Stormrage clan orcs whom were murdered by the dragon. Our bloodlines have become weak, and it is up to you Kruntz to destroy that rune so that the power of your ancestors may once again flow.”
Before Kruntz could reply he was awakened as abruptly as he had fallen asleep. He looked around but could not see what could have awakened him. Standing he turned to go back towards Havenswatch, but was stopped by a sound. Growling a dire wolf leapt from behind the tree he was just sleeping by and snapped at him. Kruntz raised his fist and swung quickly at the beast head, felling it in a single blow. Then he headed back towards the kingdom that had taken him in.
Upon arriving Kruntz wandered into the hills of his ancestors searching desperately for the rune that would free his people. He descended a hill and the air grew colder, he paused feeling eerie and peaceful at the same time. Ahead of him he saw a dim blue globe and pursued it hoping it was that which he sought. He soon found the source of the glow, and indeed, covered under years of moss and brush, he found the ancient rune. Looking about, Kruntz pulled Blitz free from its scabbard and raised the sword high. With a loud crack, the slab of stone splintered under the powerful swing of the orc. The rune’s evil glow dimmed and died out. Kruntz looked about him as if waiting for something to happen, though time passed yet nothing did. He looked up to the stars, thinking now his ancestors must be free now. He could now return to Havenswatch to face his own fears, to lead his people back to their rightful place of greatness and glory.

Many miles away Sepheebioun cursed softly before letting an evil smile cross his face. It was done, the orc’s ancestors struggled against him and he almost lost control of the dream when they did, but with sheer mental dominance he pushed them back into their graves. Now, at his convenience he could summon them out to serve him as mindless slaves…