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Author Topic: Dungeon of Voldar  (Read 13619 times)
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Grunok the Exile
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« Reply #30 on: November 04, 2005, 06:51:22 AM »

Grunok is relaxed but alert as Tilath enters, trying to keep his bloodrage under control so that he can unleash it at the appropriate time.  It is difficult, and though his posture is calm, his eyes snap with yellow fire.  His unshackled hand flexes repeatedly around the bundle of rags which he still grips.  He rattles the chain attatched to the manacle he still wears, indicating his impatience to be free of it.  Tilath crosses to him as soon as he enters, and does begin to unshackle the remaining restraints so that Grunok soon reflects the smile which Tilath wears, albeit with a more dangerous twist to his lip.  This only increases as Tilath tells him the plan.  

Grunok is a little confused by the necessity of hurting but not killing the guards - the concept of pretending is a rather foreign to him - but he quickly comes up with a parallel, which is that of playing with other y'oc before his exile.  He remembers well that it is acceptable to wound only, thereby proving your superiority, but not to kill as this weakens the tribe.  With that fixed in his mind, he listens to the rest of what Tilath says.  "Once you reach the Warden's chambers- -kill him... After the Warden is dead- -you kill the King. Then- -we then must face a hundred or so soldiers to get out of the castle... we will kill Lycheus and take as many of those soldiers with us before we die. It is a good day to die."

Grunok's death's head grin broadens into a feral look of bloodlust, his two rows of sharpened teeth showing clearly.  Strange low, harsh sounding growling and hissing comes from Grunok as he responds to Tilath in his native language, Kh'om'chr'om.  "It is indeed, fellow warrior.  I will avenge my Ashzuck's death, and tonight we will dwell with in glory with K’ahn’uck!"  

He drops the rags as he takes the armour and thrusts it on over his head.  Grunok struggles a little with the unfamiliar conformation of the piece and so his head is still inside the thing when he hears a grating sound as of metal dragging along stone.  His green head erupts from the neck of the shirt and his yellow eyes fix immediatley on the source of the sound.  "I hope this is worthy of you?" says Tilath. Grunok begins to laugh - a terrible, deep and bloodchilling noise which haunted veterans of wars against the orcs until their dying days, as it had always singnalled that the victory of the orcs was at hand.  Still grinning, Grunok takes the handle from Tilath and swings the weapon up and then down again with great force, striking a ringing blow against the wall and turning a small, elliptical section of the stone to rubble.  Satisfied, he turns his eyes upon Tilath.

"Comm," says Grunok, once more in Tharian.  "We wull do thiss thng, to-ge-thuh."  So saying, he hefts the mace and walks out of the cell to confront the guards.





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« Reply #31 on: November 05, 2005, 12:32:22 AM »

The guards had outside of Grunok's cell had put on as much armour and padding as they could find.  When they heard the sound of the mace hitting the stone wall some blanched, but they still held their ground.  They were all standing with weapons, swords mainly, with one guard holding a pike.  (He figured that the farther he was away from Grunok the safer he was) in a somewhat semi-circle around the cell.

When they heard Grunok say "Come we will do this thing together" they braced themselves.

************************************************************************

Trelor suddenly stopped his sharpening of tools when all of a sudden he heard a deep resounding sound and some of his vials upon his shelves shook.  But then they stopped and he heard no more sound.  He shook his head and continued, wondering where that Orc was.  Someone's head is going to roll over this, he thought.  That Orc should have been here by now!  Trelor was one who became very angry, but kept it under tight control, like all of his emotions, except one, his emotion for the pleasure of the torture of others.  Then, and only then did he let himself be taken over with a somewhat orgastic pleasure in the suffering of his victims.

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« Reply #32 on: November 05, 2005, 01:53:22 PM »

Grunok stops as he exits the cell.  He rests the huge, heavy mace at his foot and looks up to see the nervous looking guards ranged in their semi-circle.  Sizing them up,  he looks down at the wicked spikes of the mace and back at the guards with their flimsy padding.  He shakes his head and leans the mace against the wall by the door.  Nodding once to the guards in a kind of salute, kind of warning, he lunges at the centremost guard.  

Powerful, inhumanly long arms slash out toward the man on both sides.  One catches him around the side of his head and the other at his shoulder, the momentum cracking his neck to one side and rendering him instantly unconcious.  Grunok immediately turns, grabbing the pike which a second guard holds on the shaft below the blade.  Taking one step backward, Grunok lunges forward again, hitting out with the butt of the spear and hears the satisfying crunch of bone giving way.  The sound cues in Grunok's instincts, overriding the last of his inhibitions about 'playing' with the humans who had mostly tried to be kind to him, and he lays about himself with his makeshift staff, quickly disabling the remaining men - some with the handle and others with the sharp end.  It is not long before he turns to Tilath with a dangerous grin, picks up his mace and turns his feet toward the torture chamber.





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« Reply #33 on: November 18, 2005, 03:14:22 AM »

Tilath looked in awe and amazement as he watched Grunok decimate his guards in such a short order.  He noticed that not one was really seriously hurt.  He grinned, "Let Norkin and the other political prisoners out and then get out of here yourselves." He paused as he looked at his friends, knowing that he would probably never see them again, at least not in this life time. "I wish you all well in your retirement."  With that said, he rushed after Grunok.  "Thank you Grunok for not seriously hurting my men.  However when we reach Warden Trelor's chambers and meet him use that mace upon him as much as your heart desires."  He took one last look back, sighed, straightened up his shoulders, drew his own broadsword and said, "Lets go, the Warden and the King will meet their destinies this night."

************************************************************************

The guards who were still able to walk, went to Norkin's cell, opened it, walked in, unchained him and said, "Your free. We plan on releasing the rest of the political prisonsers and then fight our way out of the jail.  Do you want a weapon?"  They asked him as they gave him his clothes.

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« Reply #34 on: November 21, 2005, 05:30:22 AM »

Grunok grins ferally as Tilath finishes, and, stooping to pick up his mace he starts at an eager loping run down the corridor to the warden's chamber.  Stopping by the door he looks back, waiting for the old prison guard.





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« Reply #35 on: November 21, 2005, 11:19:22 PM »

Tilath heaving a bit heavily follows Grunok. "Grunok, behind that door lies the most hideous things that mankind could invent.  The person who invented them is Trelor. I do not think you will need any help killing the insect, but I will stand guard at the secret stairs inside the place in case any palace guards come down to help him."  Tilath paused as he looked at the door. "Please do your best to smaxh that door in, scare the living daylights out of Trelor as he has done to so many, including my brother, before he tortured them and killed them."

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« Reply #36 on: November 30, 2005, 01:59:22 AM »

Trelor was pacing the floor of his chambers.  His temper rising with each foot fall.  Then he hears a noise outside of his chamber door.  He eagerly opens it up...he stumbles back, his face going paler than anyone thought possible.  He tried to scream, but no sound came out of his voice.  His eyes bulged as he looked into the hateful, baleful eyes of the Orc.  He could not keep his eyes off of the terrible looking mace in the Orc's hand he wanted to run but his feet felt like lead and then worse...he wet his pants.

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« Reply #37 on: December 01, 2005, 04:23:22 AM »

As Grunok waits for Tilath to catch up his blood is boiling with battle frenzy.  He grasps his massive spiked mace when Tilath says to bash down the door and begins to heft it, when Trelor opens the door.  A grin of revenge spreads across the Losh-Oc's face, and the stench of fear which comes from the bald man as he backs into a table opens the door the rest of the way to Grunok's hunting inctincs.  

"RRRAK!"  Grunok's Orcish warcry splits the dungeon air as he uses his massive strength to bring the mace down at where Trelor stands.  Some instinct makes Trelor duck and spin out of the way, running to hide behind a large, straight-sided steel barrel, the contents of which are hidden by a domed lid.  The mace takes a large chunk out of the wood of the table but Grunok ignores it and turns to stalk his prey, laughing as he drags the mace, its long spikes screaming as they strike sparks from the dungeon floor.  The torturer dashes clumsily from behind one object to another, but Grunok knows that one so thin and pale as this will never be able to outlast him.  

Trelor sees a small chance and dashes on wet, shaking legs to the brazier in the corner.  Pulling a hot poker from the coals he waves it at Grunok shouting "Stay back!  I will b-"  Grunok's laugh turns in to a roar and Trelor's threat into a squeal as they both realise that the bald man has nowhere to run - he is trapped in the corner between the walls, the brazier, and large green death.  Grunok swings the mace over his head and down.  It is over.

As Grunok frees the mace's spikes from his victim, he looks over his shoulder.  "Tilath!"  He roars.  "Now I wull kill thiss Kinng!"





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« Reply #38 on: December 02, 2005, 02:21:22 AM »

Tilath walks in and is amazed that for such a small man, Trelor was spilling out a lot of blood.  His brains, what was left of them oozed out ever so slowly.  The rats, Trelor's friends smelled the blood and were beginning to fill up the room, some already feasting upon their former masters remains.

Tilath grimmaced at the sight but then thought about all of the hundreds of souls who had met this same fate and worse.  At least Grunok had outright killed Trelor, not tortured him for hours or even days on end.  Tilath looked around and saw the many torture devices and even this new one that Trelor had invented and built.  He began smashing them with his sword, barely hearing Grunok saying he was ready to kill the King.  In Tilath's mind as he smashed these objects of torture he was cleansing himself.  He yelled, "Grunok, you can help me or from where you stand there is a piece of the wall that is loose, it has a picture of a body upon it, push it and the wall will slide revealing some secret stairs that lead up to the King's own bedchamber.  There lies the King, but he is protected by no less than five, very good soldiers.  They are also larger than most men, I would say that they would dwarf even your size and they carry massive weapons.  If you go up there without myself, please be aware of this.  I will be behind you as soon as I destroy these things so that no one will ever know or use them again." Tilath took a massive swing at Trelor's new invention and pieces of wood and metal flew.

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« Reply #39 on: December 03, 2005, 10:19:22 AM »

Not interested in wasting his strength on anything but the enemy, Grunok turns from Tilath to find the secret staricase.  Dragging the mace he stumps around the dungeon room, unsure of what he is looking for.  

A confused orc is a dangerous thing, especially when he is already deep in the throes of bloodlust.  Unable to find the stairs by himself and impatient to wreak bloody vengeance on the king, Grunok follows the sound of steel on wood and metal to where the old guard stands hacking at the strange contraptions around him.  

Waiting only to be sure he isn't hit by Tilath's sword as he swings it at the dark furnishings, Grunok darts in and tries to grab Tilath by the scruff of his neck and pull him away from his task.  Snarling into the man's face, he rumbles "Yuu wull not wayst yourr sstrength on thesse thinggs.  Yuu will showw me wherr to fynd thiss Kengg."  His temper and impatience boiling, Grunok leans down, looks Tilath in the eyes and roars "NOWW!"





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« Reply #40 on: December 05, 2005, 03:28:22 AM »

Sgt. Tilath was not one to be afraid of anything.  But when his eyes met Grunok's and he heard Grunok yell, he almost wet his pants.  He became angry himself, being pulled away so roughly and talked to that way.  He pulled himself away from Grunok.  "Fine! here it is here!"  Tilath stomped over to a brick with a symbol of a man upon it.  He pushed the block and the secret door opened. "Now go up the stairs and do what you must.  I am going to destroy this thing so it will never be able to torture one singel soul.  You do not know what this is, do you Grunok?  It is a device that by the looks of it a person is placed inside, such as yourself, and then water is applied to these levers which in turn push these ultra sharp spikes into a person's body, in all sorts of places.  Depending upon how much water pressure is applied, would depend upon how far those spikes would enter into a body.  Soon the body would be bleeding.  Since this body is chained and locked into this contraption he/she cannot move.  So slowly and painfully the body is tortured and killed.  Then the Warden would let his per rats feed upon what was left.  You probably do not understand all of this, but I do and that is why I am going to destroy all of this.  Even if its by fire!!"  Tilath walked away and began hacking at the torture chamber.

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« Reply #41 on: December 12, 2005, 04:23:22 AM »

Grunok follows Tilath as he opens the hidden door. When it is done Grunok sights up the stairs to the glimmer of light at the end, far above him.  Tilath begins to speak and it quickly becomes apparent that he has no intention of following or helping him with the king or the guards he spoke of.  Grunok's eyes narrow in skepticism as Tilath explains the workings of one of the torture devices, wondering why, if he was going to make up a lie, he didn't make up a more probable one.  As Tilath storms back off to continue his destructive work Grunok growls quietly in his throat, and turns his feet to the stairs.  He shoots one last look at the well-engaged Tilath and says under the sounds of breaking wood and twisting metal, "I re-mem-buh Day-me-unn."

If Grunok had been of any other race, or possibly even from a different tribe of orcs, he probably would have thought to close the door to the dungeons to mute the noise of ripping and twisting from Tilath's occupation, hoping that the king wouldn't be alerted to his coming.  If Grunok had been from another race he probably would have thought to climb the stairs quietly, with no clanging of his mace on every stair, no growling which slowly grows to a roaring battle-chant as Grunok works himself up into a battle fury.  But Grunok isn't from any other race; Grunok is of the Losh-Oc, and he is angry.  And so, when he finally reaches the top of the stairs, they are ready for him.

Grunok grasps the handle that this door conveniently has, and pulls it open.  In that first millisecond he takes in the vast bedchamber he stands in, the at least five ped away positions of all the fully armed and armoured guards along with the large four-posted bed positioned against the right hand wall and its cowering occupant who is, oddly enough, still wearing his crown although it is somewhat askew at that moment.  Grunok brings up his massive mace as he screams his warcry – not an orcish one this time, but a memento mori to his friend – “Daymeunn!”  

If Grunok or Tilath could only have seen the colour Cedric went when he heard that name from this mouth, they would both have been greatly satisfied.

The closest guards fire their crossbows at Grunok and the bolts at this range spring free of the bows with devastating force.  One bolt misses, bouncing off the stone behind him but two hit, penetrating the leather armour.  One lodges in his side just below his underarm, and the other in the meaty part of his thigh below his hip.  The extent of the damage is not clear to Grunok as, in his battlerage, he feels no pain at all.  The impacts do, however, throw him off course and his first great rush of speed and strength is spent crashing in to the guard at the left of the bed, and his mace beaks only wood as it curves off-target into a post of that large furnishing.  Catching himself with the weight of the mace, Grunok manages to stay upright as the guard falls over.  Grunok roars his thirst for vengeance; with one stomp the man’s neck is broken and Grunok is closing with the next man.  One, two, three steps and the mace crunches a helm into a skull, and the second guard is down.  Turning, Grunok nearly receives another crossbow bolt to the chest but his spin makes it glance off the leather of the armour Tilath had provided him with.  The woman holding the bow looks horrified as she sees her arrow miss.  That is her dying expression as the spikes of the orc’s weapon catch her on the side of the face, driving into her brain.

A sickening sound follows as Grunok pulls the spikes out and with another deafening cry raises his weapon high, an awesome sight with crossbow bolts still sticking out of him in two places and gore clinging to his weapon.


To be continued

Edited by: Grunok the Exile at: 12/12/05 9:56
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« Reply #42 on: December 14, 2005, 05:21:22 AM »

A small squeal from the bed attracts Grunok's attention.  Turning his hard yellow eyes to the man there, Grunok begins to advance.  Cedric finally gets his limbs to work and he scrambles backwards across the huge bed, his eyes fixed on the orc in terror.  Little mewling sounds come from his mouth as he tries to call for the guards.  Floomph - the king finds the edge of the bed but his backward scramble didn't halt and he toppled of the edge and onto the floor.  Grunok climbs up on to the bed and crosses it, landing with a thump next to the king on the other side of the bed.  He watches unmoved as he tries frantically to untangle his legs from the sheets.  He is almost free when Grunok’s lips curl and he says bitterly, “Yuu killd my frendd.  Now I kill yuu.” Another sickening crack as of a watermelon splitting open follows, and the king lies dead at Grunok’s feet.  

“TREASON! TREEEASON!”  comes the shouts from the guards, calling Grunok back to full battle readiness.  The thought of breaking of the arrowshafts crosses his mind but he has no time as the remaining three rush at him, swords drawn.  A great roar comes from his mouth and Grunok lunges forward in the same maneuver he had used in the dungeons below, but this time with killing force.  His blow catches the guard on the side of the helm, throwing him or her across the room.  Meanwhile another had crossed the bed behind him and white fire shot up his leg as this one’s sword sliced through the unprotected back of his calf. A rictus of pain contorts the orc’s face and, dropping the mace as too heavy at such close quarters, Grunok spins around and, with another move he had used below, scissors his huge arms so that the guard would be rendered unconscious or killed.  Spinning quickly Grunok catches an arm as it swings down to nearly cleave his unprotected head and twists it backward, his orcish strength ripping it completely off the body.  Its owner gave a small gasp and then fainted.  Unless help arrived soon, they would never wake again.

Grunok stares around himself at the carnage and, amazingly, all is quiet.  He realises he is still holding the arm and with a grin he tosses it aside.  The battle lust begins to fade and sharp pain lances through him from three wounds.  Taking stock he realises that he is still alive, but that he must either be healed or go on fighting soon, or he would be permanently injured and die an old orc, never to die in battle and feast with K’ahn’uck.  Worried, he decides to see what, if anything Tilath can do.  Now that the battle-lust has gone he is unsure if Tilath was actually lying all about those machines… humans are strange things, after all.  This time he closes the door after him.

The walk down the stairs is painful, and by the time he reaches the warden’s room he is sweating in pain.  “Ti-luth,” he calls into the silence. “Ti-luth,” again.  The ruins of the chamber lie twisted and broken about him – it seems he was nothing if not thorough.  Tilath is sitting on the floor in the far corner looking like a broken rag doll.  He looks up as Grunok walks towards him, his eyes showing exhaustion from the physical effort, and from the spiritual cleansing he has just performed; each blow was like a blow to that part of himself which had let the torture carry on in here, even as unjustified as he knew it to be.  “Ti-luth,” says Grunok again, with a gesture indicating the arrow shafts which protrude from his hide and the sword cut which was bleeding alarmingly fast on his right calf.

 

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« Reply #43 on: December 22, 2005, 01:56:22 AM »

Tilath looked up as he heard his name being called.  He saw Grunok with two crossbow bolts sticking out of him, one in his thigh and the other under his arm, he was bleeding profusely from both wounds, but the blood covering the orc, Tilath decided did not all come from Grunok, but from others.  Tilath smiled weakly. "I guess we both finished what we came for.  I think it is time to make our escape." He wearily stood up and looked back up from where Grunok had come from. "The King?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.  If Grunok was still alive then the King and his guards were dead.

Suddenly there came noise from the dungeon, Tilath readied himself when one of his guards poked his head in. "Sgt. We came back to see if you needed any...help." His last word faded off as he stared at the blood soaked Orc.

"Turin, is it?" Tilath asked.

"Yes Sgt."

"Can we get out of the dungeon?"

"We certainly can. The rest of us took care of the palace guards guarding the dungeon entrance."

"Good our friend here needs medical attention."

Turin looked up at Grunok. "The temple of Nehtor is the closest.  Will he be able to walk.  I am not sure we could build a litter that would hold him."

Tilath looked up at Grunok and surveyed the wounds.  He looked around Trelor's chamber and saw what he needed.  He walked over to some shelves where bandages and Eascathe were located.  He grabbed some and walked back to Grunok. Looking up he talked to him. "Grunok, these arrows need to be pulled out of you and then the wounds bandaged.  After that we have to get you to a healer.  I hope you understand this."

Tilath went to the arrow stuck in Grunok's thigh and tried pulling it out, it budged a little and Tilath was surprised he did not hear a sound come from Grunok as he thought that it must be awfully painful.  He motioned to Turin to help him.  They both grabbed the shaft and pulled...it came out tearing some flesh with it.  Tilath quickly took the Eascathe soaked bandages and wrapped them tightly around Grunok's thigh.

Then they took a hold of the bolt within Grunoks underarm and pulled...it came out too with some flesh.  Tilath again put some Eascathe bandages upon the wound and wrapped the bandages around Grunok after taking off his blood soaked leather armour.  Again Tilath was amazed that no sound came from Grunok.  "There Grunok that is the best I can do until a healer does the rest."  He turned to Turin who was vomiting as he realized who's flesh and bones the rats were gnawing upon.  "Turin, help me with Grunok and lets leave this place of horrors."

Turin was a bit ashamed at his behavior but he was just a youngster and not accustomed to battle yet.  He quickly wiped his mouth, nodded and with Tilath on one side and he on the other, they helped Grunok through the darkend hallways, out of the dungeon, where they met the others and then they all went to the temple.

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« Reply #44 on: February 07, 2006, 11:50:23 AM »

Sgt Tillath

Sgt. Tillath was a bit unconformatble in his new role as the Warden of Voldar's dungeon.  But like any good soldier he obeyed his superiors and began his job.  HIs first and only prisoner was a man who gave his name as Kain.  He was a man who used magic so he was watched very carefully by Warden Tillath's men.

Sgt. Tillath looked into the barred cell and watched the man, as he was chained to the wall.  Finally he opened the cell door and walked in; his men behind him had drawn swords expecting anything from this man.  They had heard rumors of about this man that made most of them scared of their own shadows.  Sgt. Tillath had to admit, that even if half of what they had heard that this man had done was true, then this man was someone to be feared.

Sgt Tillath could feel the man's eyes upon him as he entered the cell, walked over and unlocked the chains that bound the man to the wall. "Kain, I have been commanded to help clean you up and take you to the Palace to meet the King. Please follow me.  I believe it would help you tremendously if you do as I say, it may even help you to keep your head." Sgt. Tillath said as he backed away from the man.  Sgt. Tillath had seen and fought many a man, even demons in his lifetime, but this man made him nervous, though he tried not to show it as waited for the man to follow him.

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