Fantasy Story: General Hoknuk – “Dabu” His eyes still painfully shut, sweat dripping down his neck, he felt his servant’s trembling body crouch down to the ground, under the pressing touch of his burning palm. “Dabu”, echoed a husky voice in the silence as the man’s lips parted once more. Breathing heavily, he stepped back and slowly opened his eyes. Candles flickered as a gentle cold breeze found its way to the center of the ceremonial chamber. At last, the transformation was complete.
Distant hurried footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He began chanting the master’s oath, while wondering deeply about the outcome of the latest siege on Aburgh’ztok. A dim light flooded the dark corners of the room as General Hoknuk appeared in the doorway, menacing in his heavy plate mail, covered in mud and dried blood. “It is time, Hoknuk”, he ordered. “Our master grows impatient”. Firmly grasping the pommel of his sword, high priest Nasrag gro-Malorak turned to meet his trusted general’s obedient look. “Swobu”, shouted the Orc and stormed out in bloodthirsty rage.
There was no turning back now. Lok-Tar Ogar. Victory or death.
It seemed like ages ago since he first waged this everlasting war for survival against the world itself. Thousands and thousands of years of fighting, conquering and capitulating, sacrificing more and more. Once a humble follower, a devout herald of his master’s word and now an arch demon, his most powerful champion, the very conduit of his will. Eternally bound to lead the demonic armies of his brothers and sisters, the “Dae’mon”, the infamous Horde, to spread the faith slaughtering the weak and harvesting the souls of the strong, converting them into the mighty breed of the Horde.
Different time, different place, same war. It is a good day to kill. Mirdautas vras.