Hey… it’s not always this perfect…

(What you are about to read below is my writing assignment of a story I and a friend of mine I have known for just a few weeks to write something in the blog. What you read here is just one chapter of an unnamed title, a fantasy story that is quite difficult to tackle and yet challenging. If you like what you read here, do drop in some comments about it and I hope you enjoy the story as well)

* choose either Orcs, Goblins or Ghouls, choose either a dungeon, forrest or village and then choose either a romantic, dramatic or poetic… minimum 1000 words or more but like a fantasy novel chapter. Not a short story but like as you read a chapter from a book.*

————————————————————————————

The night skies are always beautiful. The stars flicker in the dark, small white specks of wonder that is mysterious glows faintly, unmoved like a stuck dot of nowhere. It is still young as dusk ends its day and the dark rules Morkarnio where nocturnal creatures appear, hiding in the shade at first for just a few minutes before revealing themselves their true form. Where the dark rises, the night creatures are stronger and at their best.

The Orcs are celebrating. Victory was theirs again and their master is pleased. Meat passed around where the dead were once. Dirty scrambles are their snacks and their drinks of green ooze that no human ear has ever heard of were booze to their veins. The song of Morkarnai are rejoicing of unspeakable tongues never heard of in 20 thousand Orcs that lived today in the Battle of Jor-Nai. The humans were defeated and the slaughter of their kind were lesser than the the Battle of Chuk-Tar. The celebration of a feast of victory is at their hands… but one Orc still remains silent. He wasn’t in the celebrating mood nor would he want to feast such delicious foods that were laid in front of him. Thoughts flow deep in Kerr-Tar’s mind of the battle that he faced for many months he had struggle to stay alive. Two nearly killed him, one seriously gave him the scar right across his face in-between his eyes that when he broods, no Orc dare to challenge him. Not even Gar-Gong, the toughest and strongest of all the Orcs in Morkarnio. No, Kerr-Tar is their best… he is the only one that no Orcs ever dare crossed. Only one human have and he was the only surviving one that left a scar on Kerr-Tar’s face. Roland Third Reich, a name he will not forget.

But tonight it isn’t Roland that he isn’t celebrating. It was an Orc that he has put a lot of thought lately. One that will carry on his duty, a tradition he has to abide by the Orcs of Morkarnai. His son, Dak-Torrah.

Hands met in the middle, clenching in cross fingers Kerr-Tar stare where his son is. Tomorrow is Nar-Tor-Ruh, a tradition transition from father to son passing on his leadership to take over Kerr-Tar’s army that he has being leading to victory. He is proud of Dak-Torrah. His skills were fluent as he strikes deep into the enemy’s heart. His ferocious roar is feared by many and his tactics are unquestionable. He is almost flawless when it comes to battle but his weakness was his temper. He can’t focus nor think straight when he is angry. It can almost kill him if he is not careful. But Ker-Tar’s thoughts were the one he feared most about his son – that he can never accept a human peace treaty, one that will stop this war between the Orcs and the humans. A war Kerr-Tar is very tired of. He wants it to end and get back to the way it was before.

During the battle of Jor-Nai, Kerr-Tar met Roland in a secret location. Kerr-Tar and his second-in-command Har-Moa met Roland and his lieutenant. Both were well armed and cautious in case of any unwanted ambush. As Roland stops at 8 feet away from Kerr-Tar whom is waiting for him, his hawk like eyes search through the forest of a slight hint of movement that will give him a reason to draw his sword and kill Kerr-Tar on the spot as he almost did before. A few seconds will do to confirm if there is any ambush laid ahead against Roland.

“What are you waiting for, human? Afraid a trap might spring on you?” – Har-Moa teased with a hissed.

“Watch your tongue, Orc. I will slit that tongue of yours and throw it to the dogs and I will cut your head and hang up high above our flags to show what we do to Orcs with poison tongues!” – Garod said.

“Then what are you waiting for, human? Afraid I might slice you first?” – Har-Moa snicker and draw his dagger as he slides his tongue around it.

Garod was about to draw his sword when Roland stop him, knowing that they are here not of any bloodshed but a talk about a peace treaty between two leaders that has crossed swords a few times. Roland step forward a few feet and with a sigh, he relax his tense muscles as he knows there is no ambush around where he is now and it is safe to confront the enemy in front of him that is also his rival for 2 years.

“Kerr-Tar…”

“Roland, son of the 3^rd…”

“Let’s take a walk here between two leaders to discuss matters of today” said Roland as he point towards a path that is slightly downhill where the sound of screams and roars between the Orcs and Humans were fighting in Jor-Nai.

Kerr-Tar grunts and walks side by side with Roland with their backs facing Har-Moa and Garod.

“It’s been a while, Kerr-Tar. How is your family?” said Roland.

“We are not here to talk about my family nor about anything else that is trivial and light-hearted of what you human’s always phrase it as… how is the weather today. Tell me what you want to deliver.”

“You know what I am here for, Kerr-Tar.”

“Yes… a peace truce between the Orcs and the Humans. I doubt it is possible where centuries of our hatred among each other can be called truce easily. Of course, if you were to offer me your gold or land in exchange of peace… I sincerely think you and your ancestors have nothing new to offer me and I am unlike my ancestors that can easily accept your gold or your land. I am unlike any other leader that is easily smitten by both and I am not that easily win over because unlike the previous dumb leaders that always gives in to this war because of offerings, I intent to wipe out your existence.”

“I offer you none of the both.” – Roland stop and look at him unlike Kerr-Tar has seen before a few times. An emotion Kerr-Tar can never quite get from the humans, a seriousness of not war but of something else he does not understand too well.

“What I offer…” Roland pause for a while and then he continues “…was the truth.”

Roland took out a parchment that look centuries old, brittle with yellowish stain and almost to an extent that will crumble if not careful enough in holding. He hand over to Kerr-Tar and again with the same look he has. Kerr-Tar once again, facing him was unsure what that look means even though he had seen before and took the parchment.

He unfolds it and read what was written there. Time stop for Kerr-Tar. He could not believe what he read and stare in bloodlust at his rival. Roland holds his sword on his side, ready if Kerr-Tar were to take a swipe at his face. It might tear his head off and he would stab Kerr-Tar where his heart is. Roland knew his strength isn’t strong but it is worth a chance even if he dies for what is valuable in the parchment.

He could not believe his eyes as he holds the parchment, the words are written in blood that he wanted to crushed it.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Kerr-Tar’s tone of voice is now heard louder to Har-Moa and Garod, whom both are puzzle of what is going on there.

“I would not share something like this as a joke to you. If it is a joke, I would have tied your son’s neck to this piece of paper –“

Kerr-Tar roars and grabs Roland’s neck and stare straight in his eyes where his scar was visible to him. Garod ran towards Roland as Har-Moa follow suit. His hand around Roland’s neck can be easily crushed. After all, Kerr-Tar is three times bigger than any normal human or Orc.

As Garod getting nearer, Roland lifts his hand and signal Garod to stop.

“Crushed his neck, Durbine. Crushed his life out!” said Har-Moa.

“Shut up or I have you –“

“Enough!”

Kerr-Tar’s faced both of the lieutenants and then he turn his head and faced Roland, stare directly into his eyes, seeing if there is any hint of a lie in what the parchment was written. Again, the same expression and the same emotion Roland shows on his face. Kerr-Tar growls as his face near Roland, eye to eye… face to face.

He let go his hand and Roland drops hard. Kerr-Tar stare down where his rival is, as he raises the parchment and reads it again, flings it aside and walks away.

“Durbine?” question Har-Moa

Kerr-Tar walks away from Roland, away from this secret meeting and away from the parchment that will destroy the whole of Morkarnai. All cultures, all beliefs and all strength of what Orcs will believe in will be a hint of chaos. A history of lies and deceit he believe in that now no longer uphold. Har-Moa would be the first to be crushed, his fighting spirit no longer be part of his body. He knew how loyal Har-Moa would be as he follows Kerr-Tar away from the secret meeting place. And the last thing he heard from Roland was…

“… you cannot run away from the truth!”

The battle is over. The celebration still continues and Dak-Torrah sits next to his father, drinking his liquor and the smell of drunk of victory in his breath.

“Mok-Dai, why are you not celebrating? The humans will be wipeout in a matter of Tor-Rah. There will be none left once I become the leader of Morkarnai by tomorrow. You will see your son… Mok-Dai, your son that will wipe out all humans with these bare hands. I will should you, my proud Mok-Dai… that your son is capable and you will be proud of me. I will show you… me… how I will make mankind no longer exist!”

Kerr-Tar stayed quiet as he broods where he sits while the celebration is still going.

Dak-Torrah stare at his father for a while, and just with a wave of his hand stood up and walks away in a drunken stupor. Singing and waving his hands with green ooze flowing out of the bottle, he ran dance a bit with his comrades before he collapse on the floor and sleeps the night away.

As he sits still, Kerr-Tar watches the flames dances in the dark where the flesh of a human was cooked for the hungry Orcs to eat. Kerr-Tar’s stomach quench. The madness of the Orcs that dances and roars of humans being tortured can be heard a far. Somewhere deeper, human prisoners were heard. Moans of death are filled on ground where laughter of Orcs filled above the beautiful night sky. It’s cold tonight but it doesn’t mean much to Kerr-Tar. No, he never knew the night sky will be beautiful because he doesn’t understand much of it like any human does say. What is so beautiful about the night sky when what he read in the parchment is what will destroy Morkarnai? Written in blood, darken of words of two races that fought centuries long that all that has been was a lie. A war fought between where history has deceived them with an illusion they believe in. A single piece of paper centuries old… that holds the key of Morkarnio and the real actual name that was never heard of… Earth.

Kerr-Tar sits still with his fingers crossed against each other. The battle of Jor-Nai was victorious today… but tomorrow, there maybe no battle that will be victorious. Tomorrow is Nar-Tor-Ruh… and tomorrow, he will kill his son.

Tags: Writing Assignment

This entry was posted on Friday, October 3rd, 2008 at 1:55 am and is filed under Weblogs. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.