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Zungir and the Relic of the Rogue
#WritcoStoryChallenge
The old, treasure chest lay exposed when the storm retreated. Shortly after the heavens cleared, a large green humanoid stepped out of the woods up the hill from the shore. The Orc walked down to the beach and inspected the weathered wooden chest, before he grinned and lifted it onto his muscular shoulders, muttering to himself. "Today must be my lucky day. First the chief up and dies, and now I've got myself a chest of treasure for the tribe. The elders are sure to elect me now!" He hauled the chest up the hill and carried it through the forest, listening for predators, but hearing nothing. Disturbed by the eerie silence, he sped up to a jog, until he came into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing, a Dire Bear sat, feasting on a fallen phasebeast. The Orc shouted in surprise, before cursing under his breath and drawing his weapon in his free hand. The dagger was short, but deadly in the hands of it's skilled owner, especially when combined with the Orc's unique poisons. As the Dire Bear turned to face the noise, the Orc started to back into the forest once again, noticing that the beast had stayed completely silent as it turned to face him, despite it's maw opening in the shape of a snarl. As the Orc prepared to fight, the monstrous bear turned, looking away, and appeared to roar, yet still remained silent. It looked around, as if it couldn't see the intruding Orc, then lumbered slowly towards him. As it got close, the Orc attempted to send his blade directly into the monster's skull, stumbling and nearly tripping as his weapon, arm, and entire body harmlessly passed through his target. The bear continued into the woods as if nothing had happened, crushing foliage underfoot carelessly, but still remaining completely silent. The Orc watched as it walked away, completely dumbfounded. "Something isn't right here." he mumbled to himself. he sheathed his dagger and continued his walk home. As he entered his village, he did not receive the cheering welcome he was used to. in fact, it seemed that nobody knew he was there. He could see children playing, merchants shouting over the sounds of carts on the dirt roads, but none of the sounds reached his ears. He hurried into the tent of the village elders, his anxiety growing by the moment. "I've found a treasure chest on the beach, but it seems to have cursed me. I cannot hear, and I pass through every living thing I touch."
One of the elders looked up, seemingly directly at him, before turning towards the other old Orcs. He said something, but of course the young orc could not hear him. He threw the chest to the ground, tired of it's curse and shouted. "Why can't I hear them? What has this curse done to me?" The elders looked at the young orc, who had seemed to appear from nowhere. "Zungir? I thought I heard your voice. What have you brought to our home?" The orc looked at his elder, astounded. "Ereg? You can see me? and I can hear your voice." the others all laughed. "We can all see you now, you've dropped the chest. and shouted like a fool. Open it up, so we can see what has done this to you." Zungir reached for the chest, easily breaking the lock with his orcish strength. As he touched the lid to open it, the world fell silent once again. Within the chest was a locket on a chain, open. The image inside was that of a hooded figure, with a finger to his mouth. Zugnir lifted the locket and inspected it before closing it and admiring the shape of the skull on the front. As it shut, sound returned to the world around him. The elders looked at Zugnir, and the locket in his hands, before speaking to each other in a hushed whisper. After a short while, they turned to face the young Orc. The one called Ereg spoke. "Zugnir, you have recovered an ancient relic, sacred to our people. For this service, we would like to elect you to be chief of the Shadowtusk tribe. Will you accept this position?" This is the origin of Zugnir Shadowtusk, and how he became a hero of his tribe. Unbeknownst to him, or the elders, he would one day be a legendary hero, known throughout the realms of the material plane. But that is a tale for another day.
The old, treasure chest lay exposed when the storm retreated. Shortly after the heavens cleared, a large green humanoid stepped out of the woods up the hill from the shore. The Orc walked down to the beach and inspected the weathered wooden chest, before he grinned and lifted it onto his muscular shoulders, muttering to himself. "Today must be my lucky day. First the chief up and dies, and now I've got myself a chest of treasure for the tribe. The elders are sure to elect me now!" He hauled the chest up the hill and carried it through the forest, listening for predators, but hearing nothing. Disturbed by the eerie silence, he sped up to a jog, until he came into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing, a Dire Bear sat, feasting on a fallen phasebeast. The Orc shouted in surprise, before cursing under his breath and drawing his weapon in his free hand. The dagger was short, but deadly in the hands of it's skilled owner, especially when combined with the Orc's unique poisons. As the Dire Bear turned to face the noise, the Orc started to back into the forest once again, noticing that the beast had stayed completely silent as it turned to face him, despite it's maw opening in the shape of a snarl. As the Orc prepared to fight, the monstrous bear turned, looking away, and appeared to roar, yet still remained silent. It looked around, as if it couldn't see the intruding Orc, then lumbered slowly towards him. As it got close, the Orc attempted to send his blade directly into the monster's skull, stumbling and nearly tripping as his weapon, arm, and entire body harmlessly passed through his target. The bear continued into the woods as if nothing had happened, crushing foliage underfoot carelessly, but still remaining completely silent. The Orc watched as it walked away, completely dumbfounded. "Something isn't right here." he mumbled to himself. he sheathed his dagger and continued his walk home. As he entered his village, he did not receive the cheering welcome he was used to. in fact, it seemed that nobody knew he was there. He could see children playing, merchants shouting over the sounds of carts on the dirt roads, but none of the sounds reached his ears. He hurried into the tent of the village elders, his anxiety growing by the moment. "I've found a treasure chest on the beach, but it seems to have cursed me. I cannot hear, and I pass through every living thing I touch."
One of the elders looked up, seemingly directly at him, before turning towards the other old Orcs. He said something, but of course the young orc could not hear him. He threw the chest to the ground, tired of it's curse and shouted. "Why can't I hear them? What has this curse done to me?" The elders looked at the young orc, who had seemed to appear from nowhere. "Zungir? I thought I heard your voice. What have you brought to our home?" The orc looked at his elder, astounded. "Ereg? You can see me? and I can hear your voice." the others all laughed. "We can all see you now, you've dropped the chest. and shouted like a fool. Open it up, so we can see what has done this to you." Zungir reached for the chest, easily breaking the lock with his orcish strength. As he touched the lid to open it, the world fell silent once again. Within the chest was a locket on a chain, open. The image inside was that of a hooded figure, with a finger to his mouth. Zugnir lifted the locket and inspected it before closing it and admiring the shape of the skull on the front. As it shut, sound returned to the world around him. The elders looked at Zugnir, and the locket in his hands, before speaking to each other in a hushed whisper. After a short while, they turned to face the young Orc. The one called Ereg spoke. "Zugnir, you have recovered an ancient relic, sacred to our people. For this service, we would like to elect you to be chief of the Shadowtusk tribe. Will you accept this position?" This is the origin of Zugnir Shadowtusk, and how he became a hero of his tribe. Unbeknownst to him, or the elders, he would one day be a legendary hero, known throughout the realms of the material plane. But that is a tale for another day.
