The Monster Within [Berserker]

[Grogloki]

CHAPTER 1: THE RED SEA







It was a damp day in Booty Bay; Grog sat alone sipping from his water skin near the docks. He was preparing to head off for the Horde camp in The Swamp of Sorrows, he heard rumors of dark magic's being used just south in the Blasted Lands and he wanted to further investigate this troubling rumor. Grog had packed Korgrom full of traveling supplies and was ready to set out for the long journey. He knew that the dark portal remained in the Blasted Lands and that is was being safely watched by both Alliance and Horde forces, but rumors had reached his ears of a small cult that was practicing Fel Magic and to him that was something that could not go unpunished.


Grog set out into the deep jungles of Stranglethorn Vale, the air was hot but damp, and the very shadows themselves had eyes that watched and waited for their next meal. This was no concern to the massive Orc, the thing that did concern him was the fact that he had not slept well for days. Grog was constantly plagued by nightmares that he could not seem to overcome, usually ending in violent out bursts. The warrior had graced many battle fields and fought across two worlds, yet these losses of control troubled him. Korgrom walked close to his long time rider, giving Grog the occasional nudge or bump to get his attention. The Orc was struggling to comprehend his dreams, what did they mean? How could he stop them? The last thing Grog wanted to do was hurt someone he cared about during one of his violent out breaks. Korgrom finally gave Grog a large bump.


“Wha-… Oh forgive me old friend. I was thinking.”


Grog opened his large hand and ran it along the Bears neck line, Korgrom growled in pleasure at the show of affection from its master. The warrior smiled at mighty beast.


“I did not forget you old friend.”


Though Grog and Korgrom did not share the bond a hunter shared with his companions, they shared a bond forged over time. It was a simple understanding. Grog glanced around again at the wild over growths of the deepening jungle, the sounds of strange and wild birds could be heard echoing through the thick tree tops that hid the jungle floor from the sun. The large Orc glanced ahead to see a fallen smashed tree trunk blocking their path, he sighed as he approached the large log. Korgrom gave a growl of protest towards the wooden blockade. Grog spit into his left palm and rubbed both hands together, with a mighty heave he slowly lifted the large trunk. Korgrom moved to crawl under it; Grog's brow broke a sweat as he pressed the massive wooden cylinder high into the air. With a loud grunt Grog released the huge object pushing the weight off to the side as it crashed down, the sound could be heard vibrating through the surrounding jungle. The two adventurers pushed on through the jungle.


As day slowly turned to night, the eyes in the shadow grew. Grog managed to start a small fire and make camp in a tiny clearing. The Orc sat near the fire, tending to his gear Grog spoke to Korgrom.


“So my large hairy friend, you'll keep watch while I try to sleep right?”


A large snoring sound came from the bear. Grog peered over to see that Korgrom had fallen fast asleep.


“Well I guess, I can always count on one thing.”


The large Orc chuckled to himself. With the sounds of wild creatures bellowing most of the night Grog knew he would get little sleep regardless, yet he was still nervous to give in due to the nightmares he was having. Grog moved lay his axe near his resting place for the evening, just as the Orc was about to turn in he heard a *SNAP* Grog whirled to his feet; axe in hand.


“Show yourself villain!”


The Orc called out into the blackness, yet nothing responded. Instead the sound of rustling brush could be heard. The Orc turned to face the sound, only to be greeted by a medium sized throwing axe! Grog quickly brought the head of his axe between his face and the death bringing thrown weapon. The sound of stone meeting metal rang out. Grog reset himself ready for an assault on all sides; he took up a wide stance as he normally did for a whirlwind attack. A jungle call could be heard, and Grog finally realized what it was that he was facing. Grog showed his fangs.


“Trolls…”





The warrior had sooner spoke the word, before several trolls burst forth from the jungle. His attackers circled him; they were clad in mostly beast hides and wore exotic raptor feathers or feathers of some wild jungle bird. Gog cared little for their dress; to him all they were was next. With a loud war howl, the massive Orc beckoned all his attackers to strike. Wasting little time the trolls moved in closer for their kill, they could see Grog was alone save for his mount. The Trolls drew their blades. Grog remained perfectly still waiting for his moment to strike, sweat beaded down his taught face. One of the trolls signaled to an unseen figure, Grog glanced but could not risk losing his stance to do so for long. With a hiss and pop the fire crackled giving a dim lighting; Grog clenched his grip tighter moving closer to the bottom of the Axe shaft. The warrior was young, but he knew what came next all too well. A signal was given and all the Trolls leapt airborne at Grog, the Orc gave a mighty heave with his axe; his muscles flexing as he whirled the axe around in a large motion. Trolls shrieked in pain as the axe head ripped open bellies and severed legs, for those more fortunate to leap higher than others. Grog came to rest covered in blood, a piece of intestine hung freely from his axe head. Korgrom awoke with a growl; Grog shushed the bear with a look. Rustling could be heard in the brush once again, but before Grog could react he felt a sharp biting pain strike his shoulder. Grog turned to see what had bit him so. He grimaced at the sight of a thrown axe buried deep into his leather armor, so deep that it had sunk into his flesh. A hot rush of pain washed over Grog's body as he jerked forward to see where the pain was coming from, he saw two arrows sunk into his flesh. The first arrow struck low hitting his left thigh, the second grazed his left ribcage and hung caught in flesh. He staggered forward speaking to himself, he growled low. Grog felt hate take hold, unchained wrath clutched at his free will to act. Grog's vision suddenly went black; he could feel a cool liquid surrounding him. The Orc felt it with his hand; it came to about knee height and it was thick. His eyes began to regain their vision as he looked down to a shocking display; he was standing in a knee high pool of what he believed to be blood. Grog sloshed forward trying to find a way out, but there was none. He felt another surge take hold he staggered in the liquid as it surged. The massive Orc turned to see what had shifted the liquid so much that he struggled to stand. Grog turned mouth gaped as he stared at a wall of red, a blood tide, he had seen this before. The warrior knew the rage well, but he always tried to keep this from happening. Grog gave a quiet whisper.


“No… not again…”






The massive Orc was dwarfed by the mountain of blood that surged towards him in this void of nothingness. Grog slowly felt his hate start to raise, his adrenaline taking hold. He gave one last war cry of hate as the wave of rage came crashing down upon him washing the Orc up into a sea of death and destruction. His curse had taken hold, and nothing stopped the beast from feeding on those it chose to kill. Time pressed on for what seemed like hours to Grog, he struggled to the surface of the red sea many times only to be sucked back in again by some unseen force.





Finally Grog snapped too, his vision clear. He was not in some distant fantasy sea, oh no. The Orc was soaked in blood, and entrails lay sprawled about him. The surrounding brush that enclosed his once safe little camp had been smashed and ripped to pieces; he started to regain flashes of what had happened. Grog felt exhaustion take hold; he fell to his knees glancing over at Korgrom who was hiding in the distance. Korgrom sank deeper into the shadows as Grog peered at him, as if to recoil from some monster. The warrior surveyed the camp, he saw several severed bodies around the camp fire; and several further out in the torn up brush. Grog shook, it had been a long time since the rage had taken hold and he never liked it. The feeling of being blind while a monster fueled by hate controlled your actions never pleased Grog; he hated what the beast did. The Orc hung his head as he stayed hunched on all fours, his legs refusing to stand. A voice came from the distance.


“A' mon. I be seein what ya did. Ya be havin da dark soul, da curse'a rage.”


Grog spit, his lip bloody from an obvious blow. The taste of copper whirled in his mouth, he spit again then spoke.


“I… am… sorry. They attacked me, and…I..”


Before Grog could finish, he collapsed fully to the jungle floor exhaustion taking hold. As the Orc drifted into sleep the voice stepped from the shadows, revealing another troll. Though this Troll was different, he wore the robes of a shaman and upon his chest was a familiar emblem. Had Grog seen the Troll he would have recognized him as one of the Darkspear from the camp of Grom'gol, the Troll wore the Horde symbol freely upon his chest. Korgrom gave a growl as the Troll neared Grog.


“D'na, be worryin bear mon. I be watchin ova'da until ya be wakin up.”


The Troll drug Grog from the pool of blood he was laying in and laid him near the camp fire. Grog twitched and shook, as nightmares plagued him yet again. He saw flashes of death, his hands sinking into Troll eye sockets, his axe cleaving into collar bones, his fists smashing heads and ripping necks open with his tusks. The massive Orc shook for long hours, he tossed and turned lost his tortured sleep….

[Grogloki]

Chapter TWO the Awakening...




Grog stood on a hill side covered in grass and stone. The wind was soft and calming, the young Orc watched the grass roll and sway with each passing breeze. He thought to himself, if this is the afterlife then he did not wish to leave. A blazing sun set high in the sky made the hill sides look as though they had been covered in an emerald sheet of gems. The sight reminded Grog of Nagrand and brought a smile to his face. Looking down Grog noticed he was dressed in his armor; he reached for the straps and tried to remove them. With each jerking motion the Orc struggled to free himself. Eventually Grog began to panic as the armor would not come free. Drums could be heard in the distance, loud drums, and familiar drums. Grog tensed, he straightened for a moment before glancing backwards towards the sound. Behind him he saw a wave of Orcs pouring over the hill towards him. With wide eyes Grog shouted at them to stop, they did not listen. As the raging rabble neared a loud horn was heard from across the field. Grog turned to face the sound only to be greeted by another shocking and terrifying display, Alliance armies. The large Orc maneuvered quickly towards what he thought were his allies, he shouted to them.


“Brothers! Stop!.. This is not what Thrall wants! We have fought long and hard for our sanity do not throw it away!”

The loud mindless rabble trampled forward. When they came into proper view their skin began to change and mutant as large festering wounds gave birth to a red under-flesh. Grog stopped again this time confused. With shouts of hate the Orc war band came closer, their eyes glowed red with hate and their flesh was red with large bones jutting from elbows and forearms. Grogloki knew this enemy well; it frightened him. He had faced them before.

“Fel Orcs…” Grog gasped.

The two armies charged mercilessly towards each other. Grog was caught in the middle and was at war with himself as to what to do. Finally his mind made up he headed for the Alliance side waving them back.

“Flee, they are not your normal foe!... They will kill you all! Please I beg of you, return to your lands!”

The Alliance Knights would not listen. With the sun shining bright off their plate armor they charged behind a volley of arrows. Grog staggered backwards in shock as the black wall of arrows arose to block the sun. He darted for cover near the closest rock but as he neared it an arrow pierced his back thigh and right shoulder. The large Orc stumbled behind the rock gasping, he struggled for breath.

“What is happening… Where am I?”

Grog looked back up towards the hill of charging Fel Orcs, he trembled as he stood. With a backwards glance he could see the Alliance Knights had no plans of stopping as they brandished their blades. Grog shook with anger.

“Why won't they see reason?...”

The massive Orc heaved forward almost doubling over as his mouth began to foam. His muscles surged, a familiar feeling was washing over him once again. Grog staggered as he growled low and spat curses to the wind. He raised his fist slamming in against the rock hard in anger. His body quaked with adrenaline as a red haze washed over his vision; his eyes began to swell with hate once more. Massive hands gripped his axe hard. The leather binding began to groan from stress.

“No!.. Dammit… Not again!... No!”

Grog shot two sharp glances towards each army as they neared the center of the field. The Fel Orc army howled and roared while the Alliance army charged in shouting prayers and hateful words. The rage was claiming Grog faster and faster as he tried to beat it back and think with reason. He spoke softly to himself through a tensed jaw.

“Am.. I cursed to this hate forever?!”

The large Orc was trapped caught in between the two charging armies and with no way out but death. His body began to shake. Grog spoke softly, though the voice was not his own. It was filled with anger, wrath, and hate.

“Fine… You won't see reason. I'll make you see… YOU'LL ALL SEE!”

Grog threw his head back to the sky and screamed the veins in his neck strained to maintain the rage filled shout of death. His muscles surged once again for the final time as the red sea took him once more. The red wave washed over him and he was unleashed upon the field. The two armies collided with force upon Grog's location. Both sides hacked and slashed at each other without mercy or reason. Grog's vision saw red as his sanity was thrown to the wayside and replaced with wrath. He spotted his first victim a Fel Orc charging in his direction with a battle axe. Grog threw his weapon to the ground and in his crazed state he charged the creature. The two met in a furious melee. Fel Orc and Human alike were now locked in a combat to the death. Blood sprayed the field and soaked the combatants in its warm embrace. With a howl the Fel Orc raised its axe for a downward blow, Grog reached out grasping the creatures arm below the wrist holding the axe and squeezed until the sounds of bone shattering rang out. Grog roared in the Fel Orcs face as he snatched the axe from the creatures crushed grasp. He swung the axe low cleaving the Fel Orc in two. The two wet slabs of meat fell to the now blood soaked earth. Grog charged forth into the battle crushing and hacking at whatever he could get his hands on. The Alliance Knights and Fel Orcs alike felt his hate as he smashed through them leaving nothing but the dead or dying in his wake. Grog's body was racked with gashes and cuts from blades and axes, though he fought on. His rage was unmatched on the field. The axe Grog was wielding snapped off half way up the shaft and the head fell to the ground. He ignored it as he switched to his mitts. Grog's fists smashed into whatever he saw. His knuckles were bruised and bloodied but he did not care, all he knew was death and that is what he delivered. Finally as he broke through one of the battle lines he saw a figure. It was small, and childlike. Grog stomped towards it in anger as he neared it he saw, it was a child. Through a strained voice that was once again not his own he refused the order his body gave him.

“N-NO!.. She is a child!”

A dark figure mirroring Grog appeared in his mind's eye standing atop the red sea where Grog lay submerged shackled in chains. It looked down at him and spoke, its voice was harsh with a low guttural growl.

“I am in command now Orc… You have kept me hidden for too long! And now you will do as I say!”

Grog screamed a blood soaked choke from beneath the waves as he tugged at the chains. The figure walked over the red sea paying Grog little more mind as it went to take hold of his body once more. When Grog came too again he was watching through red eyes as he reached to grasp the little girl by her collar, she screamed and flayed about. The massive Orc raised his closed fist. Grog pleaded inside.

"Please!... NO! NOOOOO!"

The huge fist slammed down atop the little girls head over and over again. With sounds of crying and gasping screams the little girl's skull was caved in. Grog's fist rained down over and over again causing bone to shatter until her head and neck were nothing more than a lump of wet beaten flesh sitting atop her shoulders. Grog cried out from behind his eyes. He shouted for it to stop he cried out for help but it never came….

........ ........ ........

Thunder crashed loud in Grog's ear as his vision went black. He felt his body twitch. The sound of thunder came again. Grog's body felt as if it were being tossed upon an angry sea. Thunder crashed again. The large Orc jerked up from his sleep soaked in sweat and breathing heavy, his heart raced as he quickly looked around and felt his chest.


“Where… Where am I? The battle… The girl?! What happened?!”


A Troll sat in the corner of the cabin a throwing axe in hand. Grog glanced down, he was lying on a swinging roped bed hanging from two wooden pillars that stretched through the floor and ceiling. He asked again his breathing still heavy.

“Where am I?”

The Troll rested the axe in his lap.

“Joo be on da boat to Kalimdor mon. I be tinkin you be needin my brudda's help more den ya know eh?”

Grog looked confused. He thought to himself, how did he end up on a boat? And why is it bound for Kalimdor? He had to get to the Blasted Lands to face the cult. The Troll spoke again.

“I know Orc'a mon be tinkin he needa be fightin an stuff. But right now mon you be a bigger problem den solution, if you understand what me be sayin?”

Grog rubbed his head. It throbbed in pain. With a flick of the wrist a piece of meat landed in his lap along with a water skin. The Troll grinned.

“Joo be needin da strength when we get ashore. It be a long walk to brudda's.”

The massive Orc took a look at the meat and felt sick remembering the little girl's mashed body. He placed it aside and took a drink of the water skin. He wiped his mouth and beard as he glanced to the Troll a look of both defeat and compliance.

“Can your brother really help me?”

The Troll shrugged.

“Only joo and brudda be findin dat out mon. Joo be havin'a strange gift. Brudda be knowin da gift well. He will know what joo be needin to do.”

Grog sighed and laid back down, he rolled over to face the wall. He spoke quietly to himself.

“This is no gift my friend… no gift at all…”

[Grogloki]

PART THREE…. TOOLS OF THE TRADE…


The walk took several days from Ratchet to reach the Trolls “bruddas” cave that was hidden deep in the Stone Talon Mountains. The Troll had left Grog in Ratchet after giving him a map to reach the location marked with a large circle.


“Orc man be traveling alone to find the cave where Brudda be sleepin…. I have duties to attend too and Brudda said ya need ta be walkin ta clear da mind… Farewell Orc man”


And before Grog had a chance to thank him, poof, he was gone. The Troll slipped into the busy crowd and disappeared before Grog could find him.

Grog smiled as he looked up at the huge cave, its mouth a gape revealing the long dark within. With a sigh of things to come Grog lifted his traveling sack and headed inside. The cave was damp. Moss grew on many of the rocks that littered the ground of the cave. The large Orc traveled for a few moments feeling his way along the wet rock wall. Grog took another step forward almost stumbling down into the cavern below, his mouth hung open in awe of the sight. A few hundred yards into the cave rested a large open cavern, whether made or formed was never determined. Grog climbed down a small slope into the cave and gave a shout after he dropped his traveling sack…


“Hello?!... Anyone here?!”


For a moment nothing but long silence answered Grog. Then just before Grog turned to head back up he heard a faint raspy voice…


“I have been told of your odd case brother…. Do you seek help?”


Grog whirled around searching for a body to place with the voice. He found none at first. Grog called out…


“How have you heard of me? Show yourself!”


The voice came again…


“Oh a birdie told me…. Now answer me…”


A large black bird swooped from the shadows heading in Grog's direction towards the mouth of the cavern. It wore the red ribbon of a messenger Hawk. Grog dropped down to avoid the bird and spoke. The sounds of the dripping cave echoing around him...


“Yes…. I fear I may be a danger to those around me…”


The voice came again this time much closer and to the left of Grog. He turned to face it awaiting the figure to step from the shadows…


“In your current state yes… you are… I can help you, however be warned… should you die in the process know that it was your choice to follow this path. Not mine.”


Grog stood firm his face growing serious. He took a defiant step forward as the figure moved towards what little light the cave provided from the outside world. The massive Orc answered…


“I understand… I came looking for help, not pity.”


The figure stepped forward revealing an Orc of average height though his body was horribly scared from various types of weapons. Grog stood looking down upon his fellow Orc as he awaited the mysterious figures judgment. They stood for a moment their eyes locking in the typical showdown and battle of wills neither giving ground. With a nod the figure stepped closer extending a hand to Grog…


“I am Grum. However for many moons you will call me Master.”


Grog extended a hand to shake Grum's hand. However the mysterious Orc had other things on his mind as he grasped Grog's wrist and twisted his hand palm up. Grog perked a brow looking at his open hand. Grum lifted a large axe from the shadows with his free hand. With wide eyes Grog prepared to defend himself. Much to his surprise Grum slammed the shaft into his outstretched hand saying….


“You will use this as your training tool.”


Grog went to grasp it with his other hand to hold it steady as Grum released his wrist. A lesson teaching hand swatted Grog's free hand away. Grum spoke softly through his long white beard.


“No… You will learn to use this with only one hand. After you have gotten use to the weight of it in both hands we will move to two, one for each hand. Do you understand?”


Grog nodded struggling to hold it up with just his one arm. Grums folded his arms…


“Do you understand….”


Grog spoke through a shaky voice as he strained to hold the large axe…


“Yes Master, I understand.”


Grum pointed to a large tree stump that had obviously been hacked upon in the corner. The stump had been drug down into the cavern some time ago though the weight of the massive tree showed. The slide marks on the rocky slope were evidence of that.


“You will train your weak arm first… for most that is the left hand, is that the case for you as well?”


Grog nodded speaking through his strained voice…


“Ye-yes Master…”


Grum smiled and pointed to the stump once again.


“You are to deliver fifty good solid blows to that stump… after that you will proceed to clasp both your arms around it and squat to lift it fifty times. You will do this until I say otherwise, do you understand?”


Grog stood mouth gaped, sweat beads forming on his brow from holding the axe out in front of him. Grum chuckled beneath his beard his large arms folding over into his wide chest. Grog went to argue but realized if he really was to receive help from this man then perhaps he should just shut up and listen for once. The massive Orc nodded.


“It will be done Master.”


Grum watched as Grog moved over to the large stump and struggled with his first shaky swing. It bounced off the wood barely breaking the bark. Grog narrowed his gaze in frustration as a few other swings did the same minimal amount of damage. Grum spoke again through a chuckle…

“Well keep trying… I'll let you know when you've hit one….”