The Thrall Comic… deja vu

First : the first post “Happy Panda” went out to the blog feeds with bad links.  They have been corrected but you’ll have to visit the site itself to see that.

Second:  http://realozone.egloos.com/  is the author of these comics, I’ve found that (it’s pretty evident and I’m a moron for not seeing the address in some of the comics).  Unfortunately for me, it’s all in Korean so no go.

Third: on to the rest of the show!

Fourth: yeah I hit publish before I was done with the post.  Damn I’m on fire today for messing up!

Thrall, the Beginning

The story of Thrall is told in Lord of the Clans, which I highly encourage you to buy and read if you have not done so yet.  Here I will quote you a relevant passage.  To situate it, Thrall is being made into a fearsome gladiator who will be Blackmore’s tool firstly to get rich and secondly to one day lead an army of orcs and make Blackmore the Lord of all the kingdoms.  At this point in the story, Thrall is out training combat in a setup where it’s him versus twelve humans.  I now quote directly from the novel:

Thrall turned to see a small wagon approaching the fortress on the small, winding road. This happened many times each day, and the passengers were always the same: farmers, merchants, new recruits, visiting dignitaries of some sort.

Not this time.

This time, the screaming horses pulled a wagon full of monstrous green creatures. They were in a metal cage, and seemed stooped over. Thrall saw that they were chained to the bottom of the wagon. He was filled with horror at their grotesqueness. They were huge, deformed, sported mammoth tusks instead of teeth, had tiny, fierce eyes. . . . And then the truth hit him. These were orcs. His so-called people. This was what he looked like to the humans. The practice sword fell from suddenly nerveless fingers.I’m hideous. I’m frightening. I’m a monster. No wonder they hate me so.

One of the beasts turned and stared Thrall right in the eye. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t. He stared back, hardly breathing. Even as he watched, the orc somehow managed to wrench himself free. With a scream that shattered Thrall’s ears, the creature hurled himself at the cage bars. He reached with hands bloody from the chafing of shackles, gripped the bars, and before Thrall’s shocked eyes bent them wide enough to push his huge bulk through. The wagon was still moving as the frightened horses ran at top speed. The orc hit the ground hard and rolled a few times, but a heartbeat later was up and running toward Thrall and the fighters with a speed that belied his size.

He opened his terrible mouth and screamed out something that sounded like words: “Kagh! Bin mog g’thazag cha!”

“Attack, you fools!” cried Sergeant. Unarmored as he was, he seized a sword and began running to meet the orc. The men began to move and rushed to their Sergeant’s aid.

The orc didn’t even bother to look Sergeant in the face. He swung out with his manacled left hand, caught Sergeant square in the chest, and sent him flying. He came on, implacable. His eyes were fastened on Thrall, and again he shouted the words, “Kagh! Bin mog g’thazag cha!”

Thrall stirred, finally roused from his fear, but he didn’t know what to do. He raised his practice sword and stood in a defensive posture, but did not advance. This fearfully ugly thing was charging toward him. It was most definitely the enemy. And yet, it was one of his own people, his flesh and blood. An orc, just as Thrall was an orc, and Thrall could not bring himself to attack.

Even as Thrall stared, the men fell upon the orc and the big green body went down beneath the flash of swords and axes and black armor. Blood seeped out beneath the pile of men, and when at last it was over, they stood back and regarded a pile of green and red flesh where a living creature had once been.

Sergeant propped himself up on one elbow. “Thrall!” he cried. “Get him back to the cell now! ”

Fast forward some years into the future after Taretha had helped Thrall escape, and Thrall is sitting and talking to Grom Hellscream.

 

“Another question, if you can answer it,” he said to Hellscream. “When I was younger, I was training outside, and a wagon passed, carrying several. . . .” He paused. What was the correct term? Inmates? Slaves? “Several orcs to the internment camps. One of them broke free and attacked me. He kept screaming something over and over. I was never able to learn what he said, but I vowed I would remember the words. Perhaps you can tell me what they mean.”

“Speak, and I shall tell you.”

“Kagh! Bin mog g’thazag cha!” said Thrall.

“That was no attack, my young friend,” said Hellscream. “The words are, ‘Run! I will protect you!’”

Thrall stared. All this time, he had assumed that he was the object of the charge, when all along. . . .  “The other fighters,” he said. “We were doing a training exercise. I was without armor or shield, in the center of a ring of men. . . . He died, Hellscream. They cut him to bits. He thought they were making sport of me, that I was being attacked twelve to one. He died to protect me.”

 

And now have a look at this comic.

 

Few more to go in next posts.  I feel this post is long enough with just the one comic.

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