Whaturmuva
Eating the souls of children
ive submitted this to various sites and i want some feedback from battleforums
You cannot change how things are by yourself and unless the change is in unison everything will stay the same
I used characters from warcraft to make you feel the image
Jorko stared with grim eyes at the human standing across from him. He could not see the footman's face, he did not know the footman's name, and yet, he knew they would do combat in short order. That was the way of the Orcish Hordes, the way of bloody battle and lust that filled Jorko with excitement. He brandished his battle-axe, but did not move toward the footman. The footman spoke from behind the dark helmet that covered his features.
"Why do you hesitate?"
It was a noble and proud voice, one of hardened determination and soulful belief in the human's purpose. Jorko admired the human and despised him. He admired the footman's proud composure and his zealous dedication. He felt kinship with his alien counterpart. He despised the footman because that was what Orcs do. It had been inbred in him since his conception. He answered the footman.
"Why do you hesitate?"
Jorko congratulated himself on his witty and poignant response. The footman and he did not move for an instant, frozen in a heavy ether of tension and resentment, passion and kinship. Then the footman pulled out his blade, and held it out in front of him. It was a fierce display of defiance. Jorko admired him for it. He looked as if he were ready to charge into battle, and pit his life against Jorko's in a proud and glorious battle. Then the footmen retracted his blade, and brought it down to a relaxed position. He spoke yet again.
"We don't have to do this."
Jorko and the footman both understood their roles. They were both infinitesimally small components of their respective armies. If they did battle, it would mean nothing. It would not make a whit of difference in the war. If they did battle, it would be the end of an existence, most likely both of theirs. Their lives would be gone, everything they had ever worked for would vanish in an instant. Anyone who cared about them would be crushed. Everything either of them had ever accomplished would mean nothing, but would merely exist as an antiquity of a former life. Jorko and the footman understood this, yet Jorko responded with grim anger.
"Yes we do."
Jorko was a dedicated servant of the Horde. He would give his life for it, if he must. He felt the rush of battle and the heat of blood all around him. His own sweat intermingled with the heavy humidity of lost dreams and meaningless death in the battle around him, and he loved it. It filled him with its intensity, filled his soul with meaning, and then quickly retracting it with each death. The footman, like his race, simply did not understand this quite like any Orc did. The faceless, nameless human spoke again.
"Why?"
Jorko momentarily wondered what the human looked like underneath his helmet. He quickly dispelled that thought, however. The more you know about your opponent, the harder it is to kill him. He had learned that through experience, not through the teachings of his elders. What he had learned through his elders was that humans were faceless and nameless enemies, only deserving of brutal death. So why was he here, in conversation with this human, rather than locked in battle?
"That's just the way things are."
Jorko imagined the human's face twisting in anger at the comment. He could almost feel the mutual hatred permeating the air between them. That simple comment went against everything he had found the humans to stand for. So idealistic and opportunistic, so predictably unpredictable. They never just did what they were told. They had to ponder and evaluate everything. Jorko grinned. He was sure the human was simply seething with anger. He was correct.
"You are mindless. You never question anything, do you? Your mind is so clouded with bloodlust and battle rage that you don't stop to think. Why should we fight, now? Why not simply walk away, and have the rest of our lives to live?"
This infuriated Jorko. The simple thought of just walking away and not fighting seemed ludicrous. It was strictly contradictory to everything Jorko had been brought up to believe. However, the human was right about his thinking about things. He did his very best to avoid contemplating anything. He preferred basic combat and hard labor. He did not enjoy thinking about things, nor was he any good at it. He wished that the two of them were fighting.
"That's just the way things are."
Jorko imagined the faceless human's frustration growing. He felt the human he was so fond of stop pondering the situation fully and begin to understand Jorko's bloodlust. The footman was seeing the futility in the banter between them, and beginning to wish, along with Jorko, that the two of them were fighting rather than chatting. He pleaded with Jorko.
"Is that all there is for you to say? Do you really have no opinions or thoughts on our whole situation here? Why don't you care? Why don't you try to work this out with me?"
Jorko knew he had won the verbal debate. He knew combat was fast approaching. He felt the heat of battle rush into his veins and fill his body. The human stood across from him, begging for aid from Jorko. Jorko knew he could end it there, and simply agree with the human to not fight. They could walk away, and live their lives to the full extent, or they could lock themselves in a vicious embrace of death. Jorko desperately searched his soul for answers to his questions, solutions to his grand philosophical ponderings, and found only one.
"That's just the way things are."
The human understood. Slowly, and sadly, he brought his sword back into combat position. Jorko understood the footman inside out, as the footman understood Jorko. They felt each other's pain, their trials and tribulations. They were one and the same. Jorko sighed heavily under his thick shoulder pads and brought his axe back up as well. They rushed toward each other, weapons up, to quickly end the kinship that they had built with each other so shortly ago. Jorko knew why this had to be.
That's just the way things are.
You cannot change how things are by yourself and unless the change is in unison everything will stay the same
I used characters from warcraft to make you feel the image
Jorko stared with grim eyes at the human standing across from him. He could not see the footman's face, he did not know the footman's name, and yet, he knew they would do combat in short order. That was the way of the Orcish Hordes, the way of bloody battle and lust that filled Jorko with excitement. He brandished his battle-axe, but did not move toward the footman. The footman spoke from behind the dark helmet that covered his features.
"Why do you hesitate?"
It was a noble and proud voice, one of hardened determination and soulful belief in the human's purpose. Jorko admired the human and despised him. He admired the footman's proud composure and his zealous dedication. He felt kinship with his alien counterpart. He despised the footman because that was what Orcs do. It had been inbred in him since his conception. He answered the footman.
"Why do you hesitate?"
Jorko congratulated himself on his witty and poignant response. The footman and he did not move for an instant, frozen in a heavy ether of tension and resentment, passion and kinship. Then the footman pulled out his blade, and held it out in front of him. It was a fierce display of defiance. Jorko admired him for it. He looked as if he were ready to charge into battle, and pit his life against Jorko's in a proud and glorious battle. Then the footmen retracted his blade, and brought it down to a relaxed position. He spoke yet again.
"We don't have to do this."
Jorko and the footman both understood their roles. They were both infinitesimally small components of their respective armies. If they did battle, it would mean nothing. It would not make a whit of difference in the war. If they did battle, it would be the end of an existence, most likely both of theirs. Their lives would be gone, everything they had ever worked for would vanish in an instant. Anyone who cared about them would be crushed. Everything either of them had ever accomplished would mean nothing, but would merely exist as an antiquity of a former life. Jorko and the footman understood this, yet Jorko responded with grim anger.
"Yes we do."
Jorko was a dedicated servant of the Horde. He would give his life for it, if he must. He felt the rush of battle and the heat of blood all around him. His own sweat intermingled with the heavy humidity of lost dreams and meaningless death in the battle around him, and he loved it. It filled him with its intensity, filled his soul with meaning, and then quickly retracting it with each death. The footman, like his race, simply did not understand this quite like any Orc did. The faceless, nameless human spoke again.
"Why?"
Jorko momentarily wondered what the human looked like underneath his helmet. He quickly dispelled that thought, however. The more you know about your opponent, the harder it is to kill him. He had learned that through experience, not through the teachings of his elders. What he had learned through his elders was that humans were faceless and nameless enemies, only deserving of brutal death. So why was he here, in conversation with this human, rather than locked in battle?
"That's just the way things are."
Jorko imagined the human's face twisting in anger at the comment. He could almost feel the mutual hatred permeating the air between them. That simple comment went against everything he had found the humans to stand for. So idealistic and opportunistic, so predictably unpredictable. They never just did what they were told. They had to ponder and evaluate everything. Jorko grinned. He was sure the human was simply seething with anger. He was correct.
"You are mindless. You never question anything, do you? Your mind is so clouded with bloodlust and battle rage that you don't stop to think. Why should we fight, now? Why not simply walk away, and have the rest of our lives to live?"
This infuriated Jorko. The simple thought of just walking away and not fighting seemed ludicrous. It was strictly contradictory to everything Jorko had been brought up to believe. However, the human was right about his thinking about things. He did his very best to avoid contemplating anything. He preferred basic combat and hard labor. He did not enjoy thinking about things, nor was he any good at it. He wished that the two of them were fighting.
"That's just the way things are."
Jorko imagined the faceless human's frustration growing. He felt the human he was so fond of stop pondering the situation fully and begin to understand Jorko's bloodlust. The footman was seeing the futility in the banter between them, and beginning to wish, along with Jorko, that the two of them were fighting rather than chatting. He pleaded with Jorko.
"Is that all there is for you to say? Do you really have no opinions or thoughts on our whole situation here? Why don't you care? Why don't you try to work this out with me?"
Jorko knew he had won the verbal debate. He knew combat was fast approaching. He felt the heat of battle rush into his veins and fill his body. The human stood across from him, begging for aid from Jorko. Jorko knew he could end it there, and simply agree with the human to not fight. They could walk away, and live their lives to the full extent, or they could lock themselves in a vicious embrace of death. Jorko desperately searched his soul for answers to his questions, solutions to his grand philosophical ponderings, and found only one.
"That's just the way things are."
The human understood. Slowly, and sadly, he brought his sword back into combat position. Jorko understood the footman inside out, as the footman understood Jorko. They felt each other's pain, their trials and tribulations. They were one and the same. Jorko sighed heavily under his thick shoulder pads and brought his axe back up as well. They rushed toward each other, weapons up, to quickly end the kinship that they had built with each other so shortly ago. Jorko knew why this had to be.
That's just the way things are.
