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 |  Subject: Thorvar the Gladiator - Nygarth  Wed Jul 04, 2012 3:33 am | |
| Thorvar the Gladiator
Brothered to the mighty Warmonger, Ogardin. Thorvar was forever in his brother's shadow, attempting to grow to match the Warmonger's battle prowess and discipline. He never managed it. Where Ogardin would train with the Great Ancestor Suxen himself, Thorvar stood at the side line cheering his brother on as he wielded mighty steel, with only a wooden replica in his own hand. A feeble attempt at being what the mighty Ogardin was, a true Arathorian, Warrior. This was so for many years throughout their youth as they grew into their middle ages surrounded by the wartorn world that Azeroth was, and more importantly, the wartorn lands that Arathi was.
During this time, Thorvar grew into his own. He resorted not to manage to match Ogardin's mighty strength or battle cries, but to match him in other ways of life. He honed his own type of strength, agility, and took his lesser muscular body as a blessing. Where Ogardin would slow, Thorvar would speed up. Where Ogardin would rain one mighty blow, Thorvar would land multiple. Where Ogardin would wear heavy plate asthough it was cloth, Thorvar would wear leathers, mixed with plate, a more sensible route.
When Ogardin was honoured with the title of Kardonir, Thorvar followed his Brother into War without second thoughts, mourning the mighty Suxen when he finally died, equalling to his own Brother, Phelgas and undertook many a rite to attempt to equalise himself with Ogardin's reputation but alas, Ogardin rose to the Dank'thar and Thorvar was ignored. This rejection forced him to leave the Army and find his own way in life, with Ogardin's initial approval, so as Ogardin rose and struck many blows against the Armies of Phelgas. Thorvar fled into darker society, an Underground Sect, Gladiators.
The Gladiator Thorvar sold himself to a Master, proved himself in many a battle, and brought much honour to himself as his Brotherhood. Without the Shadow of Ogardin hiding the man, he finally shone as bright as his Brother did. He finally had his own followers, and his own reputation. He finally stood strong on his own for many a year, rejoicing in the lifestyle that he had grew accustomed too.
Eventually, the Gladiator's reptuation preceeded him and Ogardin heard ear of his own Brother participating the mighty Arena that took many of his own men into it's tempting grasp. This was around the same time that the Voidsworn's Armies grew stronger with every passing day and Ogardin, Dank'thar of the great Ancient Arathorians, wished for every able man he could have. Especially his own Brother. But Thorvar wouldn't budge, he refused to join the Army and once again be drowned in the ego that Ogardin was, be hidden behind His Brother's Might. So he issued a challenge to Ogardin. “FIGHT ME! OH MIGHTY DUREI! IN MY ARENA! WHERE I REIGN AS GOD! WIN AND I WILL JOIN YOU!”- to which Ogardin could only agree in silence.
So finally the day came in which the biggest derby could ever occur. Brother vs. Brother. Ogardin the Warmonger vs. Thorvar the Gladiator. Wielding their own traditional garb of plate, leather and armed with their trademark warhammers or scimitars, the Brothers fought. Strike after strike lit the Arena up, as finally the Brother's stood equal. Observed by the masses of Arathorian's gathered. For hours the fight upheld, none of which could draw any Blood or make any lasting impact on each other, until finally, Ogardin's blade was blessed enough to make a deep slice down Thorvar's chest. Recoiling away, Thorvar gasped in anguish and felt that once again, his youth was his biggest downfall, that he'd never surpass his Brother's Might. Yet as they charged once again, a clever parry left Ogardin's swordhand avast and Thorvar took no chances, lunging in with his duel swords, making a scathing wound in the Ancestor's arm that weakened him to the point of being unable to wield his Greatsword. Practically disarmed, Thorvar took advantage and beat his Brother to floor, taking him in a great embrace in a wrestle. Punch after punch, after punch, after punch, rained down from both men's fists until at last, Ogardin gave up. Admitting defeat. Thorvar rose to victory.
It took great courage, but the biggest attribute that shone throughout the Arena Battle was wisdom. Even in the face of defeat, as Ogardin drew first Blood, Thorvar stood his ground and managed to disarm his opponent, crippling him. Besting him, finally. Bringing the Mighty Ogardin the Warmonger down to Thorvar's dark, depressed earth. Yet this wasn't Thorvar's plan, he didn't want to embarrass or crush his Durei's spirits. He just seeked equality. So post to the battle's completion, Thorvar sought his brother's tent, where his wounds were being tended too.
“Durei, I seek to join your Army.” he uttered, head facing the ground and rippling arms in a salute. “But you won, Thorvar, you bested me. Why join my Army, when in truth, you should be leading me?” whispered the defeated Ogardin, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Why because, my Brother, I cannot match your wild rage on the Battlefield. I can match your skill, but by Suxen's cock, I bet next time you'll match mine. I'm no Leader, but you are. I'm no Dank'thar, but you are. I'm but a Gladiator, able to read the tide of battle and turn it in an instant. Durei, I'm not better than you, I'm just different.”- With these words, Ogardin's tears turnt to a smile, as he uttered his own respects back, “Durei, you are younger than I, but you are no fool. You did match my skill today and read my weaknesses, you didn't charge in and ruin your own chances in a toe to toe battle. You are different, and by Suxen, you are gloriously different. I would be honoured if you joined me.”
And so legend tells us, that Ogardin rose to great esteem. He eventually shed his title of Dank'thar, taking the reign of Dekaru, so he could die with the honour of his rank in battle. But it is never said who took up his role when he died.
I tell you now, it was his Brother. Thorvar the Gladiator, his equal. The man that saw a thousand battles won by his brain as His Sword.
This tale tells us of the unsung heroes, the tacticians of War that fight just as hard as the Warlords. However beyond that, it tells us of the equality of Brothers. Teaching us that sibling rivilary is not only fair, but is normal, mimicing Suxen and Phelgas' own relationship somewhat. Less importantly, it teaches us of Ogardin's own weaknesses and tells us of the Ancient Society; the Arena. As during times of lesser War, Gladiatorial Combat wasn't uncommon for our Ancestors, as it isn't uncommon now. | |
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