Warrior's Tears
By Patrick Kolenic
Started 27nov98
Last Update 19feb00
DarkRat lifted his broadsword above his head. Then with one quick swing it was all over. It had taken seven years for this moment to become a reality.
DarkRat had lost several friends along the way, but it was worth all the pain that he had suffered. The evil orc shaman Grabaza was dead.
It was a clear night; the glow from the full moon Tinasa and half moon Tonora hide nothing. That night the Drasie were celebrating Bracta, the time when
the young begin the road to adulthood. The young of the tribe had already seen the shaman and he had lead each down in the Mist. The Mist is a valley
where the fog is always heavy, and it is here that the Drasie believe that their ancestors speak to them. DarkRat, the son of Trisna the village chief was
given the path of the warrior. A huge bonfire had been lit in the center of the village. The whole tribe had gather to feast and dance.
As a warrior's first task on the road to adulthood, DarkRat had to bring a panther's claw to the feast. He had difficulty finding one; he was the only one
who was not there. Over the chanting and dancing, the tribe felt and heard the ground rumble. All froze and looked to the east. In the glow of the moons
the saw a dust cloud rising from the mountain. It however was not an earthquake, or a volcano erupting. The rumble grew louder and the dust cloud grew
closer. The village warriors ran for their huts to grab their spears and swords. They were not fast enough. Before they returned the cloud of dust was
upon them. It was more than dust though; it was an orcish war party. They outnumbered the Drasie ten to one. It was a valiant yet vain fight for the
Drasie. The orcs slaughter them all and looted and burned the village to the ground. No one was allowed to survive.
In the Distance DarkRat heard the rumble of the land. Torn between the warrior's oath and fear that something terrible was about to happen, DarkRat ran
back to the village with all the speed that he could muster. He was too late. As he neared the jungle's edge he could see the glow the burning village
caused. Panic and fear overwhelmed him. He continued on without thought. As he cleared the jungle he saw the orcs riding back toward the mountains. His
gaze sweep across the village. Tears filled his eyes and anger filled his heart. He spent the rest of the night trying to see if anyone else had managed
to live though the slaughter. When the sun rose the next morning all the flames had died out. DarkRat made a vow to himself that he would not rest until the
day he killed the orcs responsible for the massacre of his people.
