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The Last Wild Master: Chapter 32
By: jungleboy69
Chapter 32: Seeking Help.
"That was incredible!!" John exclaimed as Darren freed them from their restraints. "You were amazing, bro!!!" Gretchen, in particular, hugged Darren so tightly that he felt his breath was squeezed out of them. "I was so scared!!" She croaked out, sobbing onto his shoulder. "I thought I would lose you!"
Darren returned her hug, stroking her back gently. "It's alright, Gretchen." He assured her gently. "It's over, the gnolls won't bother anyone in Lake-Shire ever again." "I doubt any gnoll will," Damien spoke up, seeing the dead bodies of the gnolls scattered everywhere. "not after what happened here."
Sure enough, the whole gnoll camp was in ruins with bodies lying everywhere. The smell of blood hung heavily in the air and ravens were circling overhead. "Do you think I went too far?" Darren asked, feeling a little disgusted by the carnage around him.
"I'm all for the burning part." Gretchen spoke up, smirking a bit. "After what those monsters have done to so many innocent people, I'll personally see to their 'cremation' myself" She held up her whip, which engulfed in flames once more.
"Anyway, Darren" John asked. "what was that strange scroll Yowler threw at you?" Darren took out the scroll from his pocket and unrolled it. "I'm not sure." He replied. "It's written in Orcish." Sure enough, on the scroll was written ' Ogerin'naz makogg kil Tov'nokaz kagg kaz tov'osh ko g lok'tar osh'kazil il makogg Lok'mogul. '
"Maybe Solomon can make sense of this." Damien suggested. "It could have something to do with that Orc General, Yowler mentioned." "We’ll head back as soon as we clean up this place." John added, cringing his nose at the stench. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle the smell.”
(15 mins later...)
It was already dusk by the time the friends returned to Lake-Shire. Solomon found out they had a lot to say; after they took care of the gnolls, they burnt their bodies and their campsite in a large bonfire. They wanted to make sure that no trace of those horrible creatures were left behind.
Solomon was forever grateful to them for dealing with the gnolls but his good mood soured when Darren handed him the note. He gritted his teeth as he read it. “Damn those orcs!!” He muttered, gripping the note tightly. “These invasion plans speak of a massive build of orcish and gnoll forces in the east.”
“It seems that Gath’llzogg, the Black-Rock general is preparing to march his armies across Lake-Shire and attack Ladoria directly!!” The friends grew nervous. “If they’re planning a full-scale invasion,” Gretchen suggested. “shouldn’t we inform the royal army?”
Solomon shook his head gravely. “We don’t have any time.” He replied. “Our town will be overun with orcs and gnolls when the royal army arrives.” He sighed heavily. “We’re finished!” He muttered. “I might as well call an evacuation and clear out Lake-Shire before the orcs march.”
“And right when we finally finished building that damned bridge!!” He exclaimed, throwing the note down and stomping on it hard. “What hope is there?” “Magistrate, you can’t give up!” Darren exclaimed. “There has to be a way to stop them!”
Solomon sighed. “I’m sorry, boy.” He replied sadly. “But with not enough weapons or soldiers, we don’t stand a chance...” “There is hope, Solomon.” A voice spoke up. Everyone turned to see a man with white hair and wearing a black velvet suit. “Colonel Trote-man...” Solomon spoke up.
“Sir, these young adventurers speak the truth.” Trote-man replied. “Lake-Shire has been our home for more than 30 years, and we have protected it against any threat that stood against it.” “We cannot abandon her in her hour of need,” He explained. “We have to take a stand and fight!”
“How can we?!” Solomon exclaimed. “We barely have a handful of soldiers and not even with these young adventurers can face an army of orcs and gnolls.” “It’s true, sir.” John replied. “We’re not sure how many orcs or gnolls we are dealing with, it would be suicide to face them head on.”
Trote-man smiled. “I know someone who is experienced with facing orcs before.” He explained. “Someone who served 248 consecutive tours of duty across the First, Second and Third Wars, someone who was captured five years ago by a battalion of filthy, pig sucking Black-Rocks, five clicks out from the southern DMZ, someone who was tortured and kept alive as a urinal for young orc warriors. For FIVE YEARS.”
Everyone stared at him in confusion. “Who are you talking about?” Darren asked. Trote-man smirked. “JOHN. J. KEESHAN.” He replied. Everyone’s eyes widened in shock. “Keeshan, he’s alive?” Solomon muttered. “I thought he died.”
“John Keeshan!?” John squealed in amazement. “The...John Keeshan?! The one who killed more orcs than any human could!?” Trote-man nodded. “The very one!” He replied. “He’s alive alright, and been living as an outcast in Lake-shire for the past five months. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Keeshan is our only hope for stopping this invasion...” Trote-man added. “Now enough chatter. We’ve got people to save!”
By: jungleboy69
Chapter 32: Seeking Help.
"That was incredible!!" John exclaimed as Darren freed them from their restraints. "You were amazing, bro!!!" Gretchen, in particular, hugged Darren so tightly that he felt his breath was squeezed out of them. "I was so scared!!" She croaked out, sobbing onto his shoulder. "I thought I would lose you!"
Darren returned her hug, stroking her back gently. "It's alright, Gretchen." He assured her gently. "It's over, the gnolls won't bother anyone in Lake-Shire ever again." "I doubt any gnoll will," Damien spoke up, seeing the dead bodies of the gnolls scattered everywhere. "not after what happened here."
Sure enough, the whole gnoll camp was in ruins with bodies lying everywhere. The smell of blood hung heavily in the air and ravens were circling overhead. "Do you think I went too far?" Darren asked, feeling a little disgusted by the carnage around him.
"I'm all for the burning part." Gretchen spoke up, smirking a bit. "After what those monsters have done to so many innocent people, I'll personally see to their 'cremation' myself" She held up her whip, which engulfed in flames once more.
"Anyway, Darren" John asked. "what was that strange scroll Yowler threw at you?" Darren took out the scroll from his pocket and unrolled it. "I'm not sure." He replied. "It's written in Orcish." Sure enough, on the scroll was written ' Ogerin'naz makogg kil Tov'nokaz kagg kaz tov'osh ko g lok'tar osh'kazil il makogg Lok'mogul. '
"Maybe Solomon can make sense of this." Damien suggested. "It could have something to do with that Orc General, Yowler mentioned." "We’ll head back as soon as we clean up this place." John added, cringing his nose at the stench. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle the smell.”
(15 mins later...)
It was already dusk by the time the friends returned to Lake-Shire. Solomon found out they had a lot to say; after they took care of the gnolls, they burnt their bodies and their campsite in a large bonfire. They wanted to make sure that no trace of those horrible creatures were left behind.
Solomon was forever grateful to them for dealing with the gnolls but his good mood soured when Darren handed him the note. He gritted his teeth as he read it. “Damn those orcs!!” He muttered, gripping the note tightly. “These invasion plans speak of a massive build of orcish and gnoll forces in the east.”
“It seems that Gath’llzogg, the Black-Rock general is preparing to march his armies across Lake-Shire and attack Ladoria directly!!” The friends grew nervous. “If they’re planning a full-scale invasion,” Gretchen suggested. “shouldn’t we inform the royal army?”
Solomon shook his head gravely. “We don’t have any time.” He replied. “Our town will be overun with orcs and gnolls when the royal army arrives.” He sighed heavily. “We’re finished!” He muttered. “I might as well call an evacuation and clear out Lake-Shire before the orcs march.”
“And right when we finally finished building that damned bridge!!” He exclaimed, throwing the note down and stomping on it hard. “What hope is there?” “Magistrate, you can’t give up!” Darren exclaimed. “There has to be a way to stop them!”
Solomon sighed. “I’m sorry, boy.” He replied sadly. “But with not enough weapons or soldiers, we don’t stand a chance...” “There is hope, Solomon.” A voice spoke up. Everyone turned to see a man with white hair and wearing a black velvet suit. “Colonel Trote-man...” Solomon spoke up.
“Sir, these young adventurers speak the truth.” Trote-man replied. “Lake-Shire has been our home for more than 30 years, and we have protected it against any threat that stood against it.” “We cannot abandon her in her hour of need,” He explained. “We have to take a stand and fight!”
“How can we?!” Solomon exclaimed. “We barely have a handful of soldiers and not even with these young adventurers can face an army of orcs and gnolls.” “It’s true, sir.” John replied. “We’re not sure how many orcs or gnolls we are dealing with, it would be suicide to face them head on.”
Trote-man smiled. “I know someone who is experienced with facing orcs before.” He explained. “Someone who served 248 consecutive tours of duty across the First, Second and Third Wars, someone who was captured five years ago by a battalion of filthy, pig sucking Black-Rocks, five clicks out from the southern DMZ, someone who was tortured and kept alive as a urinal for young orc warriors. For FIVE YEARS.”
Everyone stared at him in confusion. “Who are you talking about?” Darren asked. Trote-man smirked. “JOHN. J. KEESHAN.” He replied. Everyone’s eyes widened in shock. “Keeshan, he’s alive?” Solomon muttered. “I thought he died.”
“John Keeshan!?” John squealed in amazement. “The...John Keeshan?! The one who killed more orcs than any human could!?” Trote-man nodded. “The very one!” He replied. “He’s alive alright, and been living as an outcast in Lake-shire for the past five months. Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Keeshan is our only hope for stopping this invasion...” Trote-man added. “Now enough chatter. We’ve got people to save!”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 15 kB
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