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“Don't let up the attack, my brothers!” Dar'gul cried out as he drove a spear into his opponent. It was nightfall and Dar'gul’s clan had gone out to participate in a strike against an enemy tribe. It was certainly a spectacular sight to behold. Two orc factions duking it out for supremacy! Apparently there had been tensions brewing against this tribe for ages and it was only just now that it finally started to boil over. That was apparently all that Dar'gul knew or cared to know. All that mattered was that he was still useful and he could still serve his tribe. However, he failed to notice that something was off that night. Something about the night air felt way too still in spite of the rain pouring down and the loud crashes of thunder. He threw it all aside, though, in favor of making himself as useful as possible. He didn't want to be thrown out of his tribe. He couldn't accept that.

‘Father,' one of his orclings cried out during the heat of battle. ‘Father, you need to listen--’

“I can't talk right now!” Dar'gul screamed, parrying a swing of an axe with his spear. He needed every ounce of concentration possible. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Not now.

‘But lad, it's important!’ another orcling interjected.

“Whatever it is, can it wait until we get home?!” Dar'gul screamed again, earning a few raised eyebrows from some nearby orcs as they wondered who he was talking to.

‘It really can't!’ another orcling added, this one sounding urgent. ‘Something about all this doesn't feel right!’

“It's just all in your head, now SHUT UP ALREADY!!” As soon as he uttered that phrase, he felt a sharp pain in his gullet. He screamed in agony as the nerves in his belly lit on fire and sent a shock throughout his system that sent him hurling to the ground. Someone took the opportunity to strike him in the gut while he was distracted monetarily. He looked up to see a monster of an orc ready to strike down upon him.

“You shouldn't be on the battlefield, fatty!” the orc rebuked, sending his axe down. With no thought to his own well being, Dar'gul grabbed the axe with his bare hands and used it as leverage to raise himself back up and land a punch against the aggressor. As Dar'gul gasped to catch his breath, he picked up his spear and resumed his attack, ignoring the sting of his now cut hand and the throbbing pain of his gut as his orclings wriggled from the sudden force.

Elsewhere, from atop a hill somewhat away from the battle, the chieftain of Dar'gul’s clan watched from afar. He decided not to participate in the battle proper unless he was needed. He could end the battle right then and there with his magic alone, but that was not what he was here for. He was here for Dar'gul. He watched him like a hawk as he witnessed every kill, every strike, and every bruise he endured. It was as he said, Dar'gul was a fine warrior; however, it was clearly at the cost of his physical and emotional health. He could tell from afar that Dar'gul was reduced to screams as he tried to drown out the pain on his body and possibly in his heart. The chieftain shook his head and sighed. It was clear the other elders had a point. If this continued, Dar'gul would do more harm than good to the tribe and to himself.

“A pity,” he sighed, turning his gaze to the sky as his eyes began to glow into a crimson hue. “I truly wanted more for you. So much more…”

Dar'gul winced as he kneeled to the ground, keeping himself standing with his spear as a crutch. It was getting harder and harder to move and his body was screaming out in pain. He felt incredibly light headed, he found it difficult to breathe, and his heart pounded against his chest like it was tightening against him. Even worse, his vision was starting to fail. He rubbed his eyes to clear his line of sight, but the moment he got a clear look he noticed some of the orcs looking towards the sky and proceeding to run towards his camp. What mystified him about it was that they all were dropping their weapons, almost like they were running away in fear. Dar'gul turned to the sky and soon saw what drove all the warriors on the battlefield to flee for their lives. It was a structure blacker than the night sky itself, but the flashes of lightning made it clear as day. A tornado. As soon as he identified the structure, fear grabbed his heart as well. He felt the surge of wind slowly begin to pull him in. Dar'gul slowly began to make a mad dash back to his camp, only to find his chieftain standing in his path.

“War chief!!!” Dar'gul called out, wondering why he was just standing there. Not that it mattered. Everyone was in danger. He’d carry his chieftain if he had to. “What the hell are you doing?! Don't you see that--”

“Yes, I do,” the chieftain said, oddly calm about the situation. “But you really ought to worry about yourself. If you dally here any longer, you will be caught in the vortex.”

“I'm not leaving you here!” Dar'gul argued, ready to grab his chieftain and run, only to find his hand denied with a look of scorn in return.

“Dar'gul,” the chieftain began. “Have you ever wondered why the Seven Legendary Warriors suddenly disappeared?” Dar'gul shook his head, not sure why they were having this conversation now of all times. “It was because their elders saw them as a threat to not only their power, but to themselves. They felt that they were so powerful, they would start a rebellion against the tribe. So to prevent such chaos, their elders had them dismissed from their tribe. But not by expulsion… by accidental murder.” Dar'gul’s heart dropped faster than a stone. He remembered the conversation he overheard yesterday and how the elders were unsure of whether or not they could control him. One of the options was to kick him out of the tribe, but he never imagined this as the method to do so. It was far too cruel.

“Chieftain… why?” Dar'gul asked, practically on the verge of tears.

“I just told you,” the chieftain replied.

“BUT WHY?! AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE, WHY THIS?!” Dar'gul screamed, shaking his chieftain’s shoulders. His heart was filled with anger and sorrow. He demanded an explanation. He wouldn't take that bullshit for an answer.

“You're a fine warrior, even after everything I’ve done to you,” the chieftain explained. “You persevered, endured, and fought in spite of it all. However, you did so at the cost of your own desires. You never wanted this…” The chieftain emphasised his point by laying his hand on Dar'gul's belly, referencing the orclings laying dormant inside him. “The moment you became a vessel for the Seven Legendary Warriors’ power, you were doomed to a cruel fate. I am partially to blame as well. I should have known you wouldn't object to any form of service, no matter how much it would cost you. It was the same with them as well…”

“I don't care about what happens to me!” Dar'gul interjected. “I would give my life for the tribe! That's all I ever wanted!”

“You're lying to yourself if you actually believe that,” the chieftain rebuked. “Don't tell me you have never once desired to be free from the nightmare I forced upon you. And don't you dare tell me that you never once wanted to make a decision that was for yourself and by yourself.” His chieftain pulled Dar'gul close and looked deep into his eyes. “Have you ever had one selfish wish in your life?” Dar'gul had no words to answer him. A selfish wish? All this time he’d been focusing on how much he would benefit the tribe, never once asking how it would benefit himself. It was how he lived as a warrior. Wait… was his chieftain asking if his methodology, his ideals, were wrong?

“My chieftain,” Dar'gul began weakly, clinging desperately to what little hope he had left. “If you knew all this, then why…?”

“I had hoped that perhaps this experience would make you think about putting yourself first for once. But it appears I've only done more harm to you. At least this way, your memory won't be tarnished and no one will pity you.” Dar'gul fell to the ground, clutching his chieftain’s clothes as he found his fate harder and harder to escape. Tears were now streaming down his face and they wouldn't stop. His voice could barely be heard over the now howling winds. The next thing he heard would be the last words he would ever hear from his chieftain.

“All the sins I've committed until now… I have made peace with them…”

And then, his chieftain disappeared. Dar'gul looked up to see a black hawk flying away into the night sky. A familiar? What it sent there to give him a message? Dar'gul couldn't think of a possibility, nor did he want to. He could already feel his body slowly lift up and away from the ground. Soon, the high winds picked him up like a toy in a way that seemed to mock gravity. Dar'gul heavy body spun and tumbled as he traveled up through the vortex. He could faintly hear the cries of his orc brethren as they all feared his now imminent demise. As Dar'gul flew higher and higher, time seemed to crawl to a halt as his vision popped in and out. He found himself occasionally assaulted by debris, but he didn't bother to dodge. He entire body was numb. His mind was out cold. The only thing left was for his heart to give out. It was at that moment that Dar'gul had lost the will to live.

Then, for a moment, the wind stopped and the earth seemed eerily calm. Dar'gul opened his eyes and saw the vastness of space and the blanket of clouds. He had somehow traveled so high up that had reached the crest of the tornado. He turned to his left and saw a brilliant blue moon. In a moment of lucidity, Dar'gul reached out to it, as if to make a wish. But just as soon as he did, gravity took a hold of him once again and Dar'gul found himself tumbling down to the earth once again. It was then that a familiar feeling entered into Dar'gul's broken heart. That feeling that only emerges when one is near death. The most primal of desires.

“I don't want to die…”

And the moment he identified it, he felt something sharp hit his body. His nerves frayed, sending his body on fire as he found himself in a fetal position. Then his body felt cold, colder than he had ever felt in his life. He tried to open his mouth to breathe, but then realized that he couldn't breathe! Something was flowing into his mouth and filling up his lungs. There was no oxygen! He tried to reach out, but his heavy body could no longer move. He was trapped! He tried to call for aid, but his lungs filled more and more. And then… darkness.

And as soon as it happened, Dar'gul’s eyes snapped open. He was greeted with the night sky again. He opened his mouth and coughed violently as water spurted from his esophagus. He wheezed and hacked before he calmed himself with a few deep breaths. What happened? He could have sworn he was on the battlefield a few moments ago. He looked around and saw nothing but sand. He tried to get up, but was immediately greeted with pain. He screamed out loud and gasped for air, then he heard a voice.

‘Father?’ it cried. ‘Father, are you alright?!’

Father? That's right! He was carrying orclings! Orclings that were imbued with the power of the Seven Legendary Warriors! A power gifted to him by his chieftain! It was then that he remembered everything. The raid, the storm, his chieftain’s words, and the violent tornado that apparently sent him far from his home. He remembered so clearly now. He was expelled from his tribe due to the elders fearing his power. And it was made to look like he lost his life due to a freak storm. Gods, how far from his home was he? Could he make it back? He tried to stand up again, but pain shot through him again. He must have been injured, so much so that he couldn't move. He thought about his tribe, but the moment he did he recalled his chieftain's words.

“Have you ever had one selfish wish in your life?”

He found himself driven to tears. He had served his tribe valiantly for years, with no thought of personal gain, and this was his reward? It sickened him! He wanted to scream, lash out at his chieftain and the gods for his cruel fate. But it would all probably be in vain. Besides, it was also his fault too. Had he once said “I've had enough”, he would have spared himself this anguish. But here he was. Alone. With no one but his orclings who couldn't help him in his condition. His vision blurred as tears continued to fall from his eyes. Crying turned to sobbing, sobbing turned to screaming, screaming turned to howling. There was no one who would hear him. No one in the world.

“HELP ME!!!” Dar'gul screamed, silently praying for a miracle that would never come. In all his campaigns, he never once asked for help, believing that it would bring shame to his house. But pride and honor meant nothing now. Not when his life was shattered to pieces. Indeed, this was the first time Dar'gul truly asked for help. And there was no answer.

“Someone… please… what do I do now…?”

Description
“Don't let up the attack, my brothers!” Dar'gul cried out as he drove a spear into his opponent. It was nightfall and Dar'gul’s clan had gone out to participate in a strike against an enemy tribe. It was certainly a spectacular sight to behold. Two orc factions duking it out for supremacy! Apparently there had been tensions brewing against this tribe for ages and it was only just now that it finally started to boil over. That was apparently all that Dar'gul knew or cared to know. All that mattered was that he was still useful and he could still serve his tribe. However, he failed to notice that something was off that night. Something about the night air felt way too still in spite of the rain pouring down and the loud crashes of thunder. He threw it all aside, though, in favor of making himself as useful as possible. He didn't want to be thrown out of his tribe. He couldn't accept that.

‘Father,' one of his orclings cried out during the heat of battle. ‘Father, you need to listen--’

“I can't talk right now!” Dar'gul screamed, parrying a swing of an axe with his spear. He needed every ounce of concentration possible. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Not now.

‘But lad, it's important!’ another orcling interjected.

“Whatever it is, can it wait until we get home?!” Dar'gul screamed again, earning a few raised eyebrows from some nearby orcs as they wondered who he was talking to.

‘It really can't!’ another orcling added, this one sounding urgent. ‘Something about all this doesn't feel right!’

“It's just all in your head, now SHUT UP ALREADY!!” As soon as he uttered that phrase, he felt a sharp pain in his gullet. He screamed in agony as the nerves in his belly lit on fire and sent a shock throughout his system that sent him hurling to the ground. Someone took the opportunity to strike him in the gut while he was distracted monetarily. He looked up to see a monster of an orc ready to strike down upon him.

“You shouldn't be on the battlefield, fatty!” the orc rebuked, sending his axe down. With no thought to his own well being, Dar'gul grabbed the axe with his bare hands and used it as leverage to raise himself back up and land a punch against the aggressor. As Dar'gul gasped to catch his breath, he picked up his spear and resumed his attack, ignoring the sting of his now cut hand and the throbbing pain of his gut as his orclings wriggled from the sudden force.

Elsewhere, from atop a hill somewhat away from the battle, the chieftain of Dar'gul’s clan watched from afar. He decided not to participate in the battle proper unless he was needed. He could end the battle right then and there with his magic alone, but that was not what he was here for. He was here for Dar'gul. He watched him like a hawk as he witnessed every kill, every strike, and every bruise he endured. It was as he said, Dar'gul was a fine warrior; however, it was clearly at the cost of his physical and emotional health. He could tell from afar that Dar'gul was reduced to screams as he tried to drown out the pain on his body and possibly in his heart. The chieftain shook his head and sighed. It was clear the other elders had a point. If this continued, Dar'gul would do more harm than good to the tribe and to himself.

“A pity,” he sighed, turning his gaze to the sky as his eyes began to glow into a crimson hue. “I truly wanted more for you. So much more…”

Dar'gul winced as he kneeled to the ground, keeping himself standing with his spear as a crutch. It was getting harder and harder to move and his body was screaming out in pain. He felt incredibly light headed, he found it difficult to breathe, and his heart pounded against his chest like it was tightening against him. Even worse, his vision was starting to fail. He rubbed his eyes to clear his line of sight, but the moment he got a clear look he noticed some of the orcs looking towards the sky and proceeding to run towards his camp. What mystified him about it was that they all were dropping their weapons, almost like they were running away in fear. Dar'gul turned to the sky and soon saw what drove all the warriors on the battlefield to flee for their lives. It was a structure blacker than the night sky itself, but the flashes of lightning made it clear as day. A tornado. As soon as he identified the structure, fear grabbed his heart as well. He felt the surge of wind slowly begin to pull him in. Dar'gul slowly began to make a mad dash back to his camp, only to find his chieftain standing in his path.

“War chief!!!” Dar'gul called out, wondering why he was just standing there. Not that it mattered. Everyone was in danger. He’d carry his chieftain if he had to. “What the hell are you doing?! Don't you see that--”

“Yes, I do,” the chieftain said, oddly calm about the situation. “But you really ought to worry about yourself. If you dally here any longer, you will be caught in the vortex.”

“I'm not leaving you here!” Dar'gul argued, ready to grab his chieftain and run, only to find his hand denied with a look of scorn in return.

“Dar'gul,” the chieftain began. “Have you ever wondered why the Seven Legendary Warriors suddenly disappeared?” Dar'gul shook his head, not sure why they were having this conversation now of all times. “It was because their elders saw them as a threat to not only their power, but to themselves. They felt that they were so powerful, they would start a rebellion against the tribe. So to prevent such chaos, their elders had them dismissed from their tribe. But not by expulsion… by accidental murder.” Dar'gul’s heart dropped faster than a stone. He remembered the conversation he overheard yesterday and how the elders were unsure of whether or not they could control him. One of the options was to kick him out of the tribe, but he never imagined this as the method to do so. It was far too cruel.

“Chieftain… why?” Dar'gul asked, practically on the verge of tears.

“I just told you,” the chieftain replied.

“BUT WHY?! AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE, WHY THIS?!” Dar'gul screamed, shaking his chieftain’s shoulders. His heart was filled with anger and sorrow. He demanded an explanation. He wouldn't take that bullshit for an answer.

“You're a fine warrior, even after everything I’ve done to you,” the chieftain explained. “You persevered, endured, and fought in spite of it all. However, you did so at the cost of your own desires. You never wanted this…” The chieftain emphasised his point by laying his hand on Dar'gul's belly, referencing the orclings laying dormant inside him. “The moment you became a vessel for the Seven Legendary Warriors’ power, you were doomed to a cruel fate. I am partially to blame as well. I should have known you wouldn't object to any form of service, no matter how much it would cost you. It was the same with them as well…”

“I don't care about what happens to me!” Dar'gul interjected. “I would give my life for the tribe! That's all I ever wanted!”

“You're lying to yourself if you actually believe that,” the chieftain rebuked. “Don't tell me you have never once desired to be free from the nightmare I forced upon you. And don't you dare tell me that you never once wanted to make a decision that was for yourself and by yourself.” His chieftain pulled Dar'gul close and looked deep into his eyes. “Have you ever had one selfish wish in your life?” Dar'gul had no words to answer him. A selfish wish? All this time he’d been focusing on how much he would benefit the tribe, never once asking how it would benefit himself. It was how he lived as a warrior. Wait… was his chieftain asking if his methodology, his ideals, were wrong?

“My chieftain,” Dar'gul began weakly, clinging desperately to what little hope he had left. “If you knew all this, then why…?”

“I had hoped that perhaps this experience would make you think about putting yourself first for once. But it appears I've only done more harm to you. At least this way, your memory won't be tarnished and no one will pity you.” Dar'gul fell to the ground, clutching his chieftain’s clothes as he found his fate harder and harder to escape. Tears were now streaming down his face and they wouldn't stop. His voice could barely be heard over the now howling winds. The next thing he heard would be the last words he would ever hear from his chieftain.

“All the sins I've committed until now… I have made peace with them…”

And then, his chieftain disappeared. Dar'gul looked up to see a black hawk flying away into the night sky. A familiar? What it sent there to give him a message? Dar'gul couldn't think of a possibility, nor did he want to. He could already feel his body slowly lift up and away from the ground. Soon, the high winds picked him up like a toy in a way that seemed to mock gravity. Dar'gul heavy body spun and tumbled as he traveled up through the vortex. He could faintly hear the cries of his orc brethren as they all feared his now imminent demise. As Dar'gul flew higher and higher, time seemed to crawl to a halt as his vision popped in and out. He found himself occasionally assaulted by debris, but he didn't bother to dodge. He entire body was numb. His mind was out cold. The only thing left was for his heart to give out. It was at that moment that Dar'gul had lost the will to live.

Then, for a moment, the wind stopped and the earth seemed eerily calm. Dar'gul opened his eyes and saw the vastness of space and the blanket of clouds. He had somehow traveled so high up that had reached the crest of the tornado. He turned to his left and saw a brilliant blue moon. In a moment of lucidity, Dar'gul reached out to it, as if to make a wish. But just as soon as he did, gravity took a hold of him once again and Dar'gul found himself tumbling down to the earth once again. It was then that a familiar feeling entered into Dar'gul's broken heart. That feeling that only emerges when one is near death. The most primal of desires.

“I don't want to die…”

And the moment he identified it, he felt something sharp hit his body. His nerves frayed, sending his body on fire as he found himself in a fetal position. Then his body felt cold, colder than he had ever felt in his life. He tried to open his mouth to breathe, but then realized that he couldn't breathe! Something was flowing into his mouth and filling up his lungs. There was no oxygen! He tried to reach out, but his heavy body could no longer move. He was trapped! He tried to call for aid, but his lungs filled more and more. And then… darkness.

And as soon as it happened, Dar'gul’s eyes snapped open. He was greeted with the night sky again. He opened his mouth and coughed violently as water spurted from his esophagus. He wheezed and hacked before he calmed himself with a few deep breaths. What happened? He could have sworn he was on the battlefield a few moments ago. He looked around and saw nothing but sand. He tried to get up, but was immediately greeted with pain. He screamed out loud and gasped for air, then he heard a voice.

‘Father?’ it cried. ‘Father, are you alright?!’

Father? That's right! He was carrying orclings! Orclings that were imbued with the power of the Seven Legendary Warriors! A power gifted to him by his chieftain! It was then that he remembered everything. The raid, the storm, his chieftain’s words, and the violent tornado that apparently sent him far from his home. He remembered so clearly now. He was expelled from his tribe due to the elders fearing his power. And it was made to look like he lost his life due to a freak storm. Gods, how far from his home was he? Could he make it back? He tried to stand up again, but pain shot through him again. He must have been injured, so much so that he couldn't move. He thought about his tribe, but the moment he did he recalled his chieftain's words.

“Have you ever had one selfish wish in your life?”

He found himself driven to tears. He had served his tribe valiantly for years, with no thought of personal gain, and this was his reward? It sickened him! He wanted to scream, lash out at his chieftain and the gods for his cruel fate. But it would all probably be in vain. Besides, it was also his fault too. Had he once said “I've had enough”, he would have spared himself this anguish. But here he was. Alone. With no one but his orclings who couldn't help him in his condition. His vision blurred as tears continued to fall from his eyes. Crying turned to sobbing, sobbing turned to screaming, screaming turned to howling. There was no one who would hear him. No one in the world.

“HELP ME!!!” Dar'gul screamed, silently praying for a miracle that would never come. In all his campaigns, he never once asked for help, believing that it would bring shame to his house. But pride and honor meant nothing now. Not when his life was shattered to pieces. Indeed, this was the first time Dar'gul truly asked for help. And there was no answer.

“Someone… please… what do I do now…?”