This is my first ever attempt at entering in a piece to a writing challenge/submitting my writing to the public so I do appreciate any constructive feedback and this is still a work in progress. If this is too long let me know too and I can cut it down I wasn't sure if there was any length requirements.
Dawn was breaking over the peaks of the Feruk Mountains. Through the faint light of morning, the image of a lone orc was standing on the edge of the Gorak Cliff. He was pacing on the edge overlooking the forest below, anger swelling in his chest as he leered into the forest. Enough light though, to trace the muscular outline of his monstrous, black body as he peered out. Quiet, except for the sound of his harsh breath flowing through his large nostrils. The longer he stared into the forest, the more his body seethed with hate. His broad shoulders heaved with every breath as he clenched two large battle axes, one in each hand.
"TERU'KA MA KARU'TE VUDAMEHA!"
His sudden roar bellows out from the mountains into the forest below with an out pour of malice and anger. Out from the rocks behind him, five wargs appeared from the shadows and prowled to the edge with a low growl. The rest of the world was about to find out that Kharr Drakil made his declaration of war.
With a heavy sigh, Kharr strapped the axes to his back.
"Erule!" Kharr called out to his alpha warg.
Erule stepped forward from the other wargs. With a quick flick of his body, Kharr mounted Erule and turned his head to look into the forest one more time. He shakes his head back and forth in dismay before letting out a final huff.
"Let's go!" Kharr grunts to his wargs as he rode off to meet with his escort and head home.
As Kharr passed through the Gorukai Horde territory, frustrations crept back into thought. Village after village destroyed, pillaged, and burned. Whole clans erased from existence. Families destroyed and huts left in ruin as smoke rose from the ashes. All for the sport of man. The Gorukai weren't the most developed of the orcs or had the best wealth, but they made do; too proud to ever ask for help. Their territory was not large, only taking a small corner of the west side. The Feruk Mountains shielded them to the north and west except for a small mountain pass. It was there the orcs were most vulnerable. On the other side of the pass lays Herum River. A river which separates the mountains from the forest and provides a boarder between orc and man.
"HALT!" Kharr commands as he raises a closed first.
Dismounting, Kharr darts his eyes around the area to ensure it was safe. As he scans the area with his eyes, he began to make his way towards a pile of ash that was once a home. He crouches down and clenches some ash into his hand before opening it and letting the ash drift into the wind.
'Ambushed... during the night...The ash still warm from the fires. Only way those pink skins can enter is through the gate at Bardur Pass... Tarka, why didn't you send a messenger...you should have known I was coming to change guard. We have guarded that pass together for centuries from man...'
Mid thought, Kharr notices an object in the ash.
Kharr's heart dropped as he picks it up and realizes what it was.
'Man will pay for this. Our lands are not hunting grounds for the sport of man to torture, kill and enslave! We will rise from the ashes of despair. We will rise from the fires of anger. We will rise up as one race, one horde, one nation. We will no longer be slaves of man!'
Kharr slams his fist into his chest. He knows what he needs to do now. After years of training the Drakil Horde into a war machine, Kharr's vision of the future is coming to pass.
Kharr rushes back to Erule and as he mounts one of the escorts ask "What did you see in the ashes my Lord?"
"You will find out soon enough."
Kharr sits and ponders for a moment.
"Hmmm... yes...." Kharr mumbles to himself. "We Ride to the Capital of Gorukai Horde... Gorkar!"
"Harad!" Kharr points to one of his escorts. A young Orc who has not yet seen his first real battle and fresh out of training.
"Go to Drakar. Tell them to send out the 3rd Legion and meet us in Gorkar by nightfall tomorrow!" Kharr positions himself to face Harad.
"This will be your first test. Mess it up and you can consider yourself a bloody cook for the rest of your life!"
"Ye-ye-yes my Lord! By my honor I will not fail."
With that Harad rode off in a dash towards Drakar, the capital of the Drakil Horde. As Harad fades into the distance, Thrak, General of the 1st Legion, starts chuckling.
"Kharr, why did you go and scare the poor kid? He hasn't even seen battle yet or spent a night with a female!"
He was the only orc who was able to not use honorifics, and keep his head. Thrak seemed amused at the hazing. Being a soldier was the greatest honor to the Drakil who above all else, coveted the glory of battle. Being stripped of your ranking was humiliating, removal was of the highest dishonor. Kharr scoffs at Thrak.
"This is nothing compared to what we had to go through." Wincing at the memories of his youth.
Thrak bursts out into a hearty laugh. He thought back to their training days together when he and Kharr were still young. Kharr often would get a lashing for his lack of discipline.
"Yeah! And They told you that you would amount to nothing! HA... look at us now!"
A rare smile cracks across Kharr's face thinking about all the trouble they use to get into. His father, the previous Warlord of the Drakil, was always lecturing him. The constant reminders about his responsibilities and inheritance to the horde. Now, distant memories of the past. His smile faded to sadness as his thoughts dive deeper into memories better kept locked up. Thrak notices the change of mood and rides up to him placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's go brother. We can't change the past, but we can change the future. The Gorukai need us."
Kharr returns to reality with his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Reminded of the mission at hand as he feels the object still in his grasp. He nods to Thrak as he collects himself before issuing a command.
Kharr races down the path to Gorkar, his escort falling in line behind. He could not afford to waste anymore time with idle chats or distant memories.