Telling Stories - Tarkos Nidlord and his Bugclaw Raiders
"Again the Telling!" shouted the largest ogor, from atop the highest saddle, a chitinous crown upon his head. His gargled voice bellowed across the open desert and begat a veracious response from his scant yet hungry caravan. "Ho Great Tarkos! I will tell!" cried Nuhlax from atop his mount, raising his gargant hacker to signal his beginning.
"Only Great Tarkos had sight beyond Realmgets, to escape da Evawinta put food in our mits!
Where foolish lords die frozen, outta der breath, Tarkos saw refuge in realm claimed by death." began Nuhlax.
The Lord, Tarkos, smiled smugly and the starve-crazed bantering of the raiders fell to silence so the telling could be heard.
"Winter Forever would chase wherever-t, Great Tarkos pointed tusks to-wards Endless Desert!
Crush cold wit heat, cover our retreat. The chill that will find, in Endless Desert would be blind.
So through da Realmget, close da door, knock knock knock, feel cold no more!"
The caravan exploded in cheers and the clanking of metal as they celebrated the recounting of their escape from the Ever Winter. Their sweaty and sand covered masses sloshed back in forth. Most of the ogors sat one or two atop a great mount, but many walked as haste was not necessary since entering Shyish.
"But warmths not all Great Tarkos did see, for knowing his raiders are forever Hangery!
We stepped through da Realmget up in da sky are, two hands worth of meteors blazing afire.
Our memories light, we stand in awe, something beckons us, on our lips speak da "Maw"
All at once the ogors stretch out their arms and then slap their hands together in front of them in a mighty synchronized clap.
Nuhlax resumed, "Da raiders of Tarkos beat hoof to da crash, pushing our beasts with da tooth and da lash.
3 weeks we moved da path was beaten, and all of our beasts and weakest were eaten."
Tarkos raised his hand to pause the telling, in remembrance for the dead and to let the fear of weakness sink into the raider's hearts. More than one stomach growled audibly.
"We crested da dunes and stood ina flummox, witness da score of floating stomachs.
Dey opened and expelled things more bug den beast, and den we took part ina long fated feast.
Wit speed and mass we closed da chasm, smashing together in a gastric spasm.
Tarkos beat der greatest dead, tearing the carapace from its head.
He placed the trophy on his own, and the thoughts of the bugs was known."
Tarok’s crown was secured to his head by teeth-like appendages piercing his skin. Eyes, not his own, open slowly beneath the crown, and all of the beasts in the caravan responded with loud cicadic shrill.
“Bugclaw Raiders of Tarkos Nidlord, Ride to da feast!”
The words of Nuhlax, cheers of the hungry ogors, and the shrill of the bugs they ride were carried off in the cloud of sand that stirs at their passing.
