A Great Adeventure

[Vradish]

A Great Adventure

(Chapter1)

Upon the eastern shores of the Great Sea, in the great southern wasteland past even the last havens of Orgrimmar, there laid a colony long forgotten in the history of WOW. These were orcs and taurens akin to those who were known as the skullcrusher clan, the race of great mortals who utterly stronged themselves by killing so much people.

But the orcs of this colony were spared by the Gods. The settlement had been founded generations before the passing of the allaince and the escape of the elves. The first settlers had left the place during the reign of Chaos. Though their histories and cultures grew sundered as the breach of Time broadened, the colony was true and faithful with the tribute to their brothers in blood upon the lands of Orgrimmar; even after the allaince began to begrudge the gift of death and envy the undying ones. For many a generation the colony prospered under the protection and aid the undead.

Yet when the allaince descended upon the land, the colony sensed the guile of the large group of humans and refused further obeisance to other lands. War erupted between the warriors of the clan and the group of alliance soldiers. Orgrimmar was by far greater, though, and the clan was subdued and placed under the watchful guard of the corrupted undead soldiers. Yet that captivity was short-lived, as the troops were called back to Orgrimmar in preparation for battle against tha alliance. Never again did the clan bow down to her Mother land, nor hold any relations with her kinsfolk there. Yet the utter sundering was a blessing in disguise, as the wrath of the alliance was withheld from the shores of the colony. Loud was the rejoicing of their hardened hearts as the doom of Orgrimmar could be seen from the far reaches Kalidar.

Despite being alone and unwelcome by the elves, the great clan endured long and undisturbed into the Fourth Age. Not even to the taurenfolk, their uncorrupted brothers, did they show any welcome, so deep and inflamed was the hurt inflicted upon them by the folly of Orgrimmar. Yet the clan was not wholly without folly themselves, and despite being wise in lore, many others were wiser, and even to those accounted among their wise little heed was given.

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

It was a strong orc,called Habrush who was King then, still stalwart and hale though along in his years. His small realm was quiet and well nigh untroubled, as it had been for many generations past, though often the alliance caused mischief with their raids and petty assaults. Yet Habrush had repelled all attacks, even a minor invasion, with the same bravery and tenacity that his royal forefathers had exemplified over the centuries. He had done his duty vigorously, and without doubt would be remember with honor in the annals of the skullcrusher clan.

Thus it was in those days that practicality was valued greater then creativity and artistic ability. Structures and homes were constructed with tactical strength and defense in mind over aesthetic beauty. Metals were melded into weapons instead of musical instruments. Clay and mortar were used to fortify the city walls instead of to mold exotic pots and sculptures. Thus was life in Orgrimmar, brought on by the need to survive alone in an unforgiving land.

The Camp was not entirely bereft of bards and minstrels. Yet those who did consider themselves musicians often did not willingly engage in those professions, but instead were too weak or cowardly to join the camp gaurd and army. Some did long for the days of laughter and joyful dancing, yet those were few. Those who did wish for such were not scorned, but rather pitied, as most others agreed such idle life led to weakness and defeat.

All of this was to change. Some say it began that one day; others said the seeds had been planted throughout the generations. From the southern deserts came a stranger to Habrush's halls; tired, dusty, and with eyes that burned with a fire that seemed to consume his mortal soul. This stranger was not Durotar, for if he had been found out to be such he would have been scourged and suffered a tortuous death from the arrow-tips of alliance archers. Yet this stranger was not dark like the men of Durotar, but his countenance was fair like those of the north, as was the accent of his voice.

The men of Habrush's court marveled at the spectacle, a curious northerner appearing from the blazing and merciless wastelands of the South. Habrush himself, who had seen many wonders in his lifetime, was also awe-struck and intrigued. Yet when asked his name, the stranger only replied, "Me am wo meeb muster need meb tu am."

This mystery intrigued the men of Orgrimmar even more, and the stranger was welcomed warmly into Halls of the clan. The stranger was noble and agreeable to all he met, and he seemed to enchant with a pleasant mystical aurora all whom he spoke to. His eyes, only, were peculiar, and they seemed to rove wildly as if they were aflame. But the men of Orgrimmar paid little heed to this.

The same evening the stranger arrived, he was invited to dine at the royal table of Habrush. The King was curious and wanted to question his visitor even more. The feast was laid out, and the stranger was given a place of honor at the right hand of the King.

Habrush ate in silence for a few moments, ever glancing at the stranger who remained silent also. Around the table, warriors and nobility talked loudly and gaily of matters of little consequence. Yet all became quiet as it the King turned to the stranger to query him. The King began with a question already asked, "Wut am lat nayme?"

The stranger answered with the same cryptic response, "Meeb am who meeb mayster needs meeb tu am."

"Yet whut does lat wysh fur weeb tu cal lat?"

The stranger was silent for a moment, contemplating this question thoroughly. "Befur meeb muster cam," he replied slowly, "Meeb am know bi uruk as Karum."

The King smiled, thinking himself clever at receiving a forthright response. "Wel met, Karum, ub welcum tu meeb hals." Then for a time the King said no word, and his smile suddenly broke into a grim frown. "Wu am lat mayster?"

Karum the stranger's eyes flared brightly for a moment, but he quickly controlled himself and smiled brightly. "Muybee lat wyl met hym an day," he said enthusiastically. "Heeb am old, uncient som sey, but nub witot his virtues."

"Does heeb rul an kingdum?" asked the King, thinking that he might have found a possible ally; or worse, a new enemy against his realm. "In da souturn desurt?"

"Skahhh," answered Karum sadly, frowning slightly, but said no more of the matter.

The King shrugged, disappointed by the response. Undaunted, though, he changed his questioning to a new approach. "Why hav lat com tu meeb Kingdum? Dit latz mustar sent lat?"

Karum smiled faintly. "Da anser tu lat first qestion am diz: me am her as a amusument. Da anser tu latz secont am yub, meeb mustar willed meeb tu com her."

If Habrush noticed the emphasis on the word willed, he did not show it. He was puzzled over Karum's first answer, me am her as a amusument. "A amusument?" asked the King wondering.

"Yub," Karum answered gaily. "A guft fum meeb mustar. A riddle meeb mustar have sent lat, und me am da riddler."

"U riddle?" asked Habrush incredulously.

"Yub, again. Meeb mustar seek a ally, but only ash wose wisdom am unsurpast. Tonight me shal told da riddle, und a week me shal stay wit lat aftur. Lat hav til da week's und tu anser, fur ten me shal went back tu meeb mustar."

"Und if weeb anser da riddle, ten allies weeb shal becom tu lat master?"

"Nub," answered Karum promptly. "Meeb mustar am cautious und slow tu frindship. Tu latz hals me wil com once an yeer, each tume wid an nuw riddle fum meeb mustar. Lat must prov lat wisdom tu meeb mustar's satusfaction."

"Und wen shal lat mustar am satisfied?" asked Habrush with slight anger, not at all approving of being tested.

"Me now not da thoghts ub meeb mustar. Tu gess wuld am foly. Wenz meeb mustar am satisfid, lat shal now."

"Vy do lat mustar so desire a aly?" inquired the King.

"Tu shure his nowledge," The stranger's words played beckoningly and influentially on the King's ears, "wich am infinite und deep, but unly tu tose wo hav wysdom tu use ut. Ut must nub fal intu da hanz ub fools."

"Nub, ut mustn't!" cried the King zealously, his anger somewhat eased. In fact, strangely, his hard face seemed to soften a bit with the words of the stranger. "Tel meeb, though. Wy did lat mustar not com himself?"

"Lat shal met meeb mustar wen da tim am fit," answered the stranger. "Did me not say latz am old? Da journey tu latz kingdom wuld likli clomp lat. Da eluments ub da desurt am cruel."

"UB curse," King Habrush replied, and laughed. He seemed only mildly distrustful of the stranger now, and felt more jovial and relaxed than he had in years. In fact, the entire court seemed enamored by their curious yet eloquent guest, and all paid him gifts of smiles and friendly nods. All of them were alike in one other respect also, and held but one thought in their minds that evening: the Riddle.

Either the King had forgotten about the Riddle, or was silently musing when to ask the question. Either way, it mattered not, for an impatient young warrior called out, "Blah, felu! Wut riddle hav lat fum da Suth?" This exclamation was met with cheers of approval. Habrush turned to his guest and nodded to him with a hearty smile.

Karum the Stranger stoically gazed around the room at the warriors and courts-men. As he rose from his seat, the room suddenly became silent, and all waited in impatient expectation.

He said in orkish:

Brings death, brings life;

The keeper of peace, the spearhead of strife.

A part of a line, crooked or straight;

His duty is love, His duty is hate.

The stranger retook his seat and was silent. A slight, thoughtful murmur floated through the room. The face of all the men were disturbed, angered that such a simple-worded riddle should be so difficult to comprehend. Even the King looked uncomfortable, as he searched within his mind for an answer, or any other riddle that was similar in nature. He sighed, for he knew his efforts that night would be in vain. Standing, he stated solemnly, "Ut am lat, und meeb mind neds rust. Tomorrow, nub dubt, me shal anser da riddle."

Karum also rose from his chair, and bowed slightly. "Me shal stuy in lat hals for ash week. Ten me shal return tu meeb mustar."

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

Yet the next day passed, then two and three. Still, neither the King nor any of his court came closer to solving the riddle. Many guesses were made; Karum the Stranger met all with frowns and shakes of the head. Habrush tried to question Karum further, but the mysterious stranger would reveal nothing nor give even a slight hint at the King's behest. Soon, the Riddle became an object of obsession all over the camp of Orgrimmar, as it passed from the King's court to even the common people.

Still the stranger frowned and shook his head.

Days passed faster then Habrush had experienced in all of his long years of royal service. The Riddle took an unearthly hold on his whole life, a passion so alarmingly strong that Habrush was powerless to resist. Yet Habrush did not want to resist. The Riddle was life.

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

It was the night before the last day. The stranger was already preparing to leave. Habrush had the night to supply an answer. He had not eaten or slept in two days. His noble face was drawn and pale as he lay in his royal chambers, a cold sweat chilling his aching body. His mind was in a rage, desperately seeking the answer to a riddle. No, not a riddle, the Riddle.

Brings death, brings life;

The keeper of peace, the spearhead of strife.

A part of a line, crooked or straight;

His duty is love, His duty is hate.

The words echoed continuously throughout his mind. Over and over again, enough to make even the strongest-minded men go mad. A King should not have to suffer so, thought Habrush, miserably.

King!

Habrush leaped from his bed, a joyful cry escaping from his parched lips at his sudden revelation. He ran from his chambers towards the guestroom. Karum was standing near a window, staring wistfully towards the South. He turned away, however, when he heard the King enter behind him.

Without even greeting his guest, Habrush eagerly answered the Riddle, "A Kung bryngs deth tu latz enumies; a Kung bryngs lif tu latz peple. A Kung keps peece witin latz Kungdom, und am da first tu led latz peeple in times ub strife. A Kung am a purt ub a royal lune, crooked ur straght tough it may am. Latz duty am tu lov und reward tose vo du guud, und hat und clomp tose vo du evil."

Karum smiled and bowed. "Me shal return tu tis place un ash year."

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

The stranger slipped out of the camp that night, as quietly and unheralded as he had entered the week before. His absence was quickly noticed by the King's court, and soon the news spread throughout the camp. Countless stories and tales went throughout the streets, some saying the riddle remained unsolved; others saying that the King had seen a Vision from the nightkeeper, and received the answer to the riddle from the gods.

The rumors grew so ludicrous that Habrush was forced to speak to the common-folk, dispelling the hearsay and telling them the truth of his sudden revelation. Still, it did little to diminish himself in the eyes of people. Soon, Habrush found himself honored with such titles as being "the sagacious King" and "our wise, discerning liege." It would be many weeks before the tales of the mysterious Riddler would cease to be told in the city taverns and the royal court.

It was the second week after the Stranger left that Varum returned to the city. He, along with a company of sturdy orcs, had been out in the wild spying out the movement of the legion. Their patrol had been successful; three companies of orc warriors had been ambushed and decimated.

Among the nobility and common folk, Varum was respected and feared, yet he was not well loved. His stern, quiet countenance bestowed him nothing but a hard reputation. None doubted his ability or wisdom, though, and his skill in tracking and surviving in the wild won him wide renown. Men likened him to the Rangers of the north, constantly wandering and studying the land. Rarely did he stay at home in Orgrimmar, except the time long ago when his mother fell ill with the dreaded desert sickness. He stayed by her side until her soul departed to the Halls of the skullcrusher clan.

Indeed, often the Prince could be seen gazing far into the Far West, as if he could see where Valinor once rested before it withdrew from the rest of Kaladorm. But of Tauren and Valinor he never spoke, nor did he once venture over the sea. If any tauren was practical in Orgrimmar it was he, and such fables had no place in his heart. Such a trait he inherited from his father.

Thus, when he returned to the halls his childhood had known as home, Varum was surprised to find his father babbling naively about a mysterious riddle. He pieced together parts of the story from the chatter of his father, but still was unmoved. "Fater, wi du lat cuncern latzelf wit such skahh?" asked Varum sternly, gazing at his father with disapproval.

"Skahhh?" gasped his father. "Sun, me ansered da riddle!"

"Riddles am fur jesters," replied his son, a bit harshly. "Mor impurtant maters am afoot. Meeb men und Me engaged gahk cumpanies ub alliance. Der carcasses buke now in da desurt sun. Yet Me feer...."

"Nub consuquunce! Nub consuquunce!" cried the King.

".....tat tose cumpanies wer scoutyng out fur an larger furce. Da alliance muves agaynst us, fatar."

"Skahh! Little wori, sun," Habrush beamed joyfully at his son, "Me ansered da ryddle!"

Varum scowled, and grabbed his father's arms firmly. The Prince's fierce eyes bore deeply into his father's gleeful face. After a moment, Varum sighed, letting his father go. "Wat witshcraft did tat sorcerer plac lat under? Latz mynd am tuched wyt a devylysh enchantment."

"Skahhh!" cried Habrush angrily. "Lat speek wrongli ub Karum!Karum have show us tu free uur harts tu such sumple amusements agayn!"

"Karum am da cur's nayme, ten?" muttered Varum. "It wyl am his death yf tys sorcerer returns tu ur cump."

"Nub!" shouted the King madly. "Me forebid yt! Me ansered da riddle! Hem shal com agayn, after a yeer has pased!"

"Lat am da Orgrimmar King!" cried Varum.War approches, und lat am so concern latself wit a riddle?"

"Lat blah rightly, son," ansered Habrush, his voice low and dangerous.Lat shal obey meeb word. Wen Karum da Magnyfycent returns, him shal am receeved wit honor!"

"Tys foli shal ruyn us!" muttered Varum, and he left his father's presence. The Prince was not seen in the city for many a week after.

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

A year passed, and the alliance did not move against Habrush'skingdom. However, on the appointed day, a year to the very hour, Karum the Desert Stranger returned to the Kingdom of Orgrimmar. The circumstances were the same as the year before, Karum came alone and unheralded. However, amongst all of the gleeful greetings and joyful processions, there was one who gave no greeting, but only grim and scrutinizing stares.

Yet Varum obeyed the wishes of his father, and laid no hand upon visiting stranger. After much prodding from his father he even surrendered a small nod to the visitor, who smiled in a friendly fashion towards the Prince. But the stranger could not keep the wild, burning look from his eyes, and Varum alone among the Azeroth took notice of this. Still, he held his peace.

Karum the Stranger was given a welcome like no other outsider had ever been given within the walls of Orgrimmar. A feast larger and more bountiful than the first was given in the Desert Stranger's honor. After the feast, all awaited Karum's next riddle with eyes wide and eager. Varum and Karum remained the only quiet and stoic men in the banquet room. Yet, at the nod of Habrush, Karum stood again as he had a year ago, and in the same eloquent voice recited his second riddle in orkish:

Deathless it dies...

Lifeless it lives...

Angry it roars...

Enfolding prey in its trap, it kills...

"Skahhh!" cried King Habrush, harshly but happily. "Lat wyl lose latz reputatyon wiz such simple wurds! Da anser am da ocean. Wavez ris from da calm and die, und provyd an testament tu da lif ub da Sea. Wen Lari rages, da seas roor wit him, und syghts und sounds am terrible tu behold. Wen claiming her prei, da sea enfolds und choks da lif from temz.

All of the royal court gave their warm satisfaction at the King's cleverness.

Karum smiled and bowed as he did before. "Me wil tel meeb mastur ub latz discontent at da riddle. Latz wisdom am far-reaching, but nut proven yet. Me shal return again an yeer frum today wit an new riddle, once again." Before anyone could stop him, the stranger had left the room and quietly exited the city. Thus was the King commended for his knowledge, yet blamed for not keeping the wonderful stranger longer.

Varum sat silent and perturbed. He expected wizardry and malice, but found only amiability and dignity. Still he was distrustful, and a nagging doubt about the man they called the Desert Stranger was ever upon his heart.

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

Do you guys wanne see the rest of the storie?

Because i don't have much time lately and i don't know its worth all the time.

[Vradish]

Thus ended the second visit of Karum, the second of fifteen. Year after year, Karum returned, bearing a new riddle. Some riddles were simple, others caused the royal court great distress to fathom and answer. Each year, it was King Habrush who came upon the true answer, and his wisdom became legendary among the common folk. Even Varum began to respect Karum's friendliness and eloquence, though doubt still filled him at the sight of the stranger.

Karum himself became the item of countless tales, and at his coming every year even those who lived upon the far outreaches of the city would come to catch but a glimpse at him. Habrush often questioned him, mostly about his master and when they would finally join hands as allies. And Karum would always answer with a wry smile, "Suun. Yn guud tim." These joyful occasions continued till the fifteenth year, and orgrimmar did not once take arms against the Kingdom.

The fifteenth year began like every other. Karum arrived alone as always, and was given a place of honor at the banquet like so many years before. The King had aged greatly, for when Karum had first visited orgrimmar, Habrush had already been considered an old man. Karum himself seemed to age little, and his eyes still burned with the same wild, dangerous fire that only Varum took notice of.

The time for the riddle came, and Karum rose to his long familiar standing posture. This time, all could see that his eyes were burning brighter than any torch in the room, and his face began to contort with uncontrollable spasms. Yet the stranger managed to settle himself, clenching his fists at his side. With a loud, uncharacteristically strident voice, he announced his eagerly awaited riddle in orkish:

Armored with skin tougher than mail,

Craftier than the wisest of charlatans,

Older than the most ancient empire,

More dangerous than ten thousand hordes of hostile men.

For the first time since the coming of the Desert Stranger, a man other than the King answered the riddle.

"A dragon," answered Varum simply.

Karum turned and nodded towards the Prince, now fully in control of himself. His eyes still blazed with a searing fire. "Wyseli spokn. Me shal return yn ash yeer." A moment later, da Stranger was gone.

The King looked surprised, and rather disappointed at not being able to answer the riddle himself, but merely shrugged and smiled. "Wel don, sun. Perhaps lat to now wil esteem Karum, und giv hym da respect he deserves." To the rest of his court, King Habrush raised his wineglass, "Til next yeer, brotars, und da return uf ur magnificent frend!"

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

There was no next year. The appointed day came and passed, and no watchmen caught a glimpse of Karum the Desert Stranger. The King and his court were alarmed, and search parties were sent out into the south, to no avail. This news filled Habrush with rage, and for a month he locked himself into his chambers and did not speak to anyone, not even his own son. After his self-seclusion was over, Habrush reappeared and resumed his public life, thinking and saying, "Perhaps ter was a difyculty, und hee wil return tu us next yeer."

Yet no sign was seen of Karum neither the next year, nor the year after that, or even the fourth year after Karum's last visit. King Habrush grew desperate, and his grief caused him to age doubly, and he became bent over and weak. On his bed, too fragile to move, Habrush called for his son and bade him to track the southern wilds and find the Desert Stranger, saying, "Non hav surpased latz skils ub tracing, nor latz wisdom in da desurt. Gu, und lest Me should die, brung bak Karum meeb frend." Varum, moved to pity by his father's condition, obeyed the command and journeyed into the Southern wastelands, taking with him only a single companion.

Several months passed, and it seemed as if the Prince had also fallen prey to whatever had taken Karum captive, or worse, killed the Desert Stranger. Though the King's health was revived, his grief was terrible to bear, and often men found him staring wildly to the Southern Desert, desperately seeking a sign of his son or the Stranger. Few held the same hopes, for the gruesome winds and hot sands could bring death even to the most stalwart and prudent of men.

Yet Varum returned, after nine months in the wild. His father had improved much and was able to meet his son at the city gates. The Prince walked slowly and aimlessly, a heavy blackened burden in his arms. The King and many of the royal court rushed to meet the Prince, who collapsed to the ground outside the city walls. Only then did the King and court discover what the burden was that Varum carried.

It was the charred corpse of the Prince's companion.

The Prince himself had been badly burned, and his beard was singed up to his chin. Gasping for breath, he murmured faintly, "Must.... giv.... burial, custum...ub ur peeple. Show honor...." Then Varum collapsed to the sandy ground and neither spoke nor moved for several days.

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

He awoke screaming, feverish, and covered with burning sores incurable by any mortal healer. His father was next to him, weeping, muttering, "Meeb sun...wat a fuul Me am! Oh! Sun, forgiv latz fater!

"

"Fater," murmured Varum painfully.

"Sun," Habrush grabbed his son's hand grasped it tenderly, "Wat evel befel lat?"

Varum arose gingerly from his laying position and sat up in his bed. With an effort, he had regained his composure, and the familiar, stern look was again upon his face. "Ironi am in da stranger's riddle," he said quietly.

"How, sun?"

"An dragun holds latz precious riddler, fater. Upon hus mountan did me see Karum bound und captiv bi da fel beest. Meeb companion...." Varum gritted his teeth fircely, "...meeb frend, fel prey tu da dragon's fire. Ut cam upon us so quikli; ub da dragon Me got but a glimpse. Scarceli did Me escap wit meeb lif."

"A dragun," spat Habrush. Then louder, he cried ardently, "A dragun!"

Varum shifted his body slightly, and cried out in pain. "Tere am nub hop fur latz cherished strangur," he gasped with difficulty.

Habrush did not seem to hear. He stared out the room's window into the Southern wastes. Then his eyes turned back on his son, ablaze with a terrible look of vengeance. "Heel quikli, sun."

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

"Foli! Uter foli!" A fortnight had passed since Varum had awoken, and his battered body was now well enough to move around. "Fater, tis am madnes! Da dragun wil devour us al!"

"Weeb am migty!" answered Habrush with pride. "Da entire ward shal marsh ut against da beest. Weeb shal rescu ur captiv frend!"

"Da entir ward?" shouted Varum. "Fater! Tere am news from da scouts; the alliance movs against us tis veri hour! A siege wil am upon ur very wals witin weeks. Weeb hav tyme enough tu prepar uf weeb remain witin da city! Da entir ward! Foly! Madnes! Weeb wil am left defenseles!"

The King was no longer listening to the pleas of his son. A wild, frantic look came over his old, cruwel face. "Every orc! Yub! Every orc capable ub wielding a slash'r! Weeb shal destroi da beest! Da brut! Tinks he can tak ur riddler from us, dos he? Damn his very hart!"

"Fater!" begged Varum. "Listen tu reeson! Am lat mad? Can lat nub see da witchcraft tat has taken hold of latz? Am a single orc wort so much tat lat wil conden latz entir kingdom?"

Habrush turned to his son, with a look of utter defiance. "Lat shal leed us tu da beest's lair. Da men am assembling! Weeb leev upon da dawn ub da morrow!"

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Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

The orcs were assembled, a fantastic and zealous troop of seven thousand orcs. Only the weak, the old, the women and children were left behind. The orcs of Orgrimmar marched to war.

Varum was at their head, still blistered from his encounter with the dragon. His right hand grasped firmly a long, stone staff that he solidly stomped to the ground with every step. Now, against every good judgement, he was leading the entire garrison of Orgrimmar into certain death - for a single orc! Even a good orc, whom none but Varum doubted Karum to be, was not worth such a price. And the Prince was the only orc in the kingdom able to lead the army to the dragon; if he refused, none could hope to find its lair.

But the Prince could not, would not, spurn the bidding of his father. It would have destroyed Habrush, the King, his father, if he refused. So he led, and he cursed the dragon, cursed the sorcerer Karum, and cursed the madness that had come upon all of his kinsfolk. His irate mind yearned to find the dragon dead, choked upon the bones of the stranger he devoured.

Despite the haste in their departure, Varum did not leave with the orcs unprepared for the rigors of the wasteland. No orc wore mail, for not even till the next dawn would they last with such a burden upon their shoulders. They journeyed quickly with their lightened burdens, and the potent will and resolve of their King drove them forward.

They traveled for a fortnight into the southern wastes, and as they traveled south their path also turned west, away from the Great camp. Nothing but the biting, drifting sands and weathered rocks greeted them. Yet no orc retreated, not a soul wavered, for all seemed driven by a fervid force that pushed them onward into the desolate ocean of sand.

Every night, at the rest halt, Varum would beg his father to turn back, and repent of the folly he had fallen into. Yet Habrush would only scowl, saying, "A worty uruk in need ub da Kyng's avail. Am it not meeb duti tu help tose under afliction?"

Upon the morn of the fifteenth day of their journey, evidence of the dragon could be seen etched upon the earthly elements. The very ground and sand lay scorched black as sulfur, the putrid stench of which made it all but impossible to breathe. Varum halted the troop and frowned, his keen eyes piercing into the blazing horizon. Then he turned back to the rest of the men and called out in a loud voice, "Weeb hav com upon da end ub ur jurney! Befor da sun sets tonit weeb shal be upon da dragon's lair."

A cheer rose among the soldiers. Varum continued, with a hardened expression on his face, "Det und det alon awaits us tere! Me beg lat al, listen tu wisdom! Turn bak now, wile lif stil courses trou latz bodies! Da destruction ub da dragon surounds latz already!"

Not a orc moved, not a soul stirred. From the back of the troop a voice called out, "Da Desert Stranger needs ur aid!Da dragon weeb shal destroy!" This outburst was met with wild cheers and shouts of approval from the orcs, and the King nodded his satisfaction.

Prince Varum shook his head, and spat on the sandy ground. "Ten onward," he cried bitterly, "tu ur dets!"

The terrain grew worse as they traveled on, and their feet stomped upon smoldering ash as they marched. They trekked miserably throughout the morning and late into the afternoon, until they could see in the distance what Varum had seen earlier that morning, a jagged, blackened mound of rock that none doubted was the lair of the beast they sought.

Though not nearly tall enough to be considered a mountain, the dragon rock was still towering and threatening. It rested several leagues away still, and only Varum's eyes could take notice of the dark opening up high on the rock. That is where the terrible fire had erupted from, killing his sole companion, and burning him with scars that would never wholly heal. If the heat of the sun did not blaze so hotly upon him he might have shivered, but the Prince held firm his stubborn and enraged resolve and continued on.

As they traveled towards the rock, not a sound nor sight erupted from dragon lair. Quiet, still, and frightening it stood. Not even after they reached its foot, and the slab that opened into the cave was directly above their heads, did any call or danger issue forth.

King Habrush unsheathed his sword, glaring fiercely at the opening high above him. His old tactical wisdom did not fail him, though, and he resisted the urge to order his men to immediately assault the lair. Instead, he stood where he was, and called out in a loud, commanding voice, "Dragon! Show latself! Fre da orc caled Karum da Desert Stranger und mercy weeb shal show lat!"

No dragon answered the call. Instead, Karum himself walked slowly from the darkness of the cave and out to the edge of the slab, high above the army. His eyes were blazing brighter and wilder than ever before, but still his face held the same eloquent expression that had long ago become legendary.

At the sight of the Desert Stranger, the entire troop let out a thunderous cry of joy, lifting up their swords in a salute of respect. King Habrush himself seemed to be weeping in exultation. "Karum, frend!" he cried. "Long hav meeb eys yearnd tu see lat again! Weeb hav com tu requite ur debt tu lat! Weeb bring det tu da dragon tat keeps lat in bondage!"

But Karum the Desert Stranger didn't seem to hear. He looked blankly at Habrush, then at the rest of the troop. "Tey hav com, master," he called back into the cave, "as lat hav said. Tey hav al com."

"Exelent," answered a deep, ancient voice from within the cave. "You have done your work well."

Silence.

No orc moved, no orc spoke, no orc breathed.

It was King Habrush who shattered the quiet with angry words. "Wat meens tis?"

From the cave came a slight rustling sound, and out into the sunlight burst the dragon. Unlike his brothers in the North he was wingless, but his claws still wreaked havoc and his fire burned hotter than the fieriest furnaces of the dwarven smithies. He was huge, as tall as the loftiest garrison towers of Habrush' city. The beast stood upon his hind legs, exposing the red, impenetrable scales that armored his entire underside.

But it was the dragon's eyes that caught Varum's horrified attention; eyes that burned with an unearthly, blazing fire. The same fire that burned in the eyes of his minion, Karum the Desert Stranger.

Sorcerer! Dragon-spawn! Varum's thoughts raged.

The old dragon's terrible, smiling gaze surveyed the entirety of the Uruk army. Then he threw his monstrous head back and issued a blinding flair of flame into the sky, which was beginning to grow dim as the day waned. "Fools!" the lizard cried, "Are you so ready to die? Fifteen years of carrion is a small price to pay for such a feast as this!"

The wind began to blow hard and biting, a desert storm was brewing. Whether it was dragon-made or natural none would ever know.

King Habrush fell to his knees, the golden crown he wore torn from his head by the savage winds. "Desert Stranger!" he raged over the gale. "Tis dragon am da master lat serv?"

The dragon answered with a horrendous laugh, "Yes, this is my groveler! I caught the cur wandering aimlessly upon my lands! No meat on his bones, though! Not good to eat!"

Groveler? mouthed Habrush in horror.

The dragon went on, "He begged for his life and I gave it to him, in servitude. He has done his work well!" The dragon fell to another fit of laughter.

"Wurk?" cried Habrush, shamed and weeping, "Yf lat so wanted ur flesh whi did lat not com und tak it?"

Karum spoke again, impassively, "Me spok trut tu lat, meeb master am old. Da elements ub da desert am unforgiving. Heeb would hav died."

"Dragon trikeri!" lamented the King. "Wizardri und enchantment! Wat hav me don? How foolish culd me am?" After a moment of lament, the King suddenly ceased his sorrowful words, and glared terribly at the dragon and his slave. "Fooled Me may hav been, but meeb det shal not am witout honor!"

With that proclamation, King Habrush of Orgrimmar gave a war cry and charged up the dragon rock. Varum tried to shout out a warning to desist his father, but the deafening return cry of the surging army drowned him out. His own battered body, though he tried, could not join the assault.

Karum the Desert Stranger watched stoically as the raging forces rushed up the hill towards him as his master. The dragon regarded the onslaught with glee, and pounced from the slab he sat on to meet the onrushing soldiers. The spears, javelins, and arrows snapped harmlessly off of his armored skin. Prince Varum, running as best as he could to assist the fight, saw the vanguard of his kinsmen forces fall under the flame of the dragon and disappear from sight. His father was among that forefront.

With a wave of dizziness and grief, Varum fell to his knees. The day was rapidly turning to dusk, and the raging battle could hardly be seen but for the flashes of fire by the dragon. Men, countless kinsmen, fell under those murderous claws and that searing fire. Yet a solitary, still figure could still be espied standing atop the dragon rock. The Prince gritted his teeth, hate pulsing through every vessel of blood in his body, and freed the longbow from its place on his shoulder. From his quiver, he removed a single arrow, taking aim at the cause of his people's misery. He let the arrow fly, avenging his father's defeat the only way he could. The arrow struck Karum the Desert Stranger in the throat, and the dragon-slave fell from the hill on which he stood never to move again.

Prince Varum rose slowly to his feet. He took one aimless step in no particular direction, and then fell unconscious to the ash covered ground.

* * * * * * *

Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

He awoke in darkness, with the night sky long risen after the day. A stiff wind from the south was defiled with the fetid smell of death and burned flesh, almost driving the Prince back to unconsciousness. With an effort, he controlled his senses and emotions and groped to his feet. To his surprise, several orcs, perhaps seven, were sitting next to him with looks of utter desolation on their faces. Seven orcs, and with the Prince, there was eight. Eight survivors out of seven thousand.

Varum turned and saw that the dragon rock stood nearly a league away, glistening in the moonlight. The men must have carried him from that accursed place. His eyes, keen as ever, also saw the reddish glow of dragon skin, lying on the ground, its beastly stomach gorged.

Almost, the Prince made a step to return to the dragon, and drive his sword deep into the beast's heart. But wisdom came over him at last. He had had enough of dragons. Varum turned to the orcs, and asked in a weak voice, "Meeb fater? Da King?

"

One of the orcs looked blankly at him, and shook his head. "Ded."

"Weeb am da last," included another orc quietly.

Varum nodded slightly, and collapsed again to the ground. "Al ub tis for a ridle," he muttered.

* * * * * * *

Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Vradish]

The next morning, the company of men rose, and Elenduil led them back in the direction of the city, his home. He would have to prepare what was left of his people, his kinsfolk. Harad was moving against them; the city might even be besieged when they returned. Eight tired, sorrowful men would do little to strengthen the defense.

But King Elenduil moved on, tapping the bottom of his staff lightly on the ground as he walked. He was thinking, wondering, cursing.

All of this for a riddle.

The End

Edited February 11, 2004 by Vradish

[Graknor]

OOC: Awesome story, im glad i took the time to read it. Are you a writer or somthing lol?

Graknor Spinecrusher

Edited March 5, 2004 by Graknor

[Vradish]

No but I do this in my free time...

Thanks man!