Chapter One: The Voice of Oggaroth
by Dharzhal T'Ar
In deafening silence within the decaying temple of my god, alone and doubting, I knelt in prayer. I asked my god why we of the Clan, once so imposing, were now so powerless.. why our numbers dwindled.. why we could not muster forces to fulfill our avowed tasks? In a voice which resounded in my mind, wracking it with pain, forcing me to fall to the ground in agony, the answer came: "You have forsaken me.. thus have I forsaken you!" I knew this to be true, but not true of me. "I have not forsaken you, my lord! G'zaarg is dead, and the others lost heart," I said aloud, and it was no lie. I had offered the sacrifices: heads and hearts of our human enemies on his altar, but the others? Nay. The voice spoke again, this time quietly: "I have long watched you, Dark Elf. You and one other have pleased me well with sacrifices. I grieved at the Orc's demise, for he was strong, and faithful. He is here with me, and now only you remain to serve me in that realm. Even the ancient chronicler, Agha, has failed me. I command you to prove your devotion to me.. slay the Orc mage, assume leadership of your peers, call them back into my service. No longer shall it be called Blackskull Clan, but you will be my Dark Lords.. for I will infuse my own power within your bodies, giving you wonderous abilities, in time, if you prove yourselves worthy."
Silence fell again, and I stood up. I departed the temple, walking confidently with renewed purpose, restored zeal, and faith. I went in search of my quarry, Agha, the Orc mage, to complete the first task in the fulfillment of my destiny.
Agha's Demise
I found the old mage sleeping in his vermin-infested and vile-smelling cave. He was drunk again, and resisted my efforts to wake him. A gentle nudge in his neck from the tip of my blade did the trick. He opened his eyes with a start. "Ah, Dhar, my friend.. good to see you! Augh, but my head does hurt!" I put my blade in its scabbard and made a step backward. "I am here on behalf of Oggaroth. He has spoken to me in the temple." The mage sat up in his bed, scratching the sores on his body. "Spoken!? To you??" He seemed shocked. "Yes, ancient one.. to me. What do you make of that?" (It felt good to toy with him this way) Agha shook his head, and lice fell from it. "Hmm.. the temple, eh? He has not.. (belch).. spoken to me in ages," he mused. "Perhaps the silence is in answer to silence?" I asked rhetorically with a sneer, and then turned my back to him. "He ordered me to kill you. You, my friend.. the one who taught me everything, who showed me how to prepare the ointment that keeps my skin from being burned in the light, and the potions for my eyes to enable me to see clearly in daylight. You, who made me your trusted lieutenant, and forced your own kind to accept me in the Clan. Yes, so much you have done for me, dear friend. What should I do?" I heard a rustling sound and knew he stood up from the bed. I heard his muffled incantation behind me.. he was not entirely drunk: "Kal Ort.." In the twinkling of an eye, nay, shorter than that, I brandished my deadly-poisoned katana, whirled around, and in one smooth movement, perfected long ago, struck out with it. The spell went unfinished. A moment later I wiped the mage's odorous blood from the sword onto my sleeve, while watching his severed head spin in circles at my feet.
"Such will be the fate of all who fail or defy my god!"
