A Bloodprint's Story

1.

Good Morning. My name is Sterling Bloodprint, and I am an Ogre. The tales I am about to tell you are true, as experienced by myself for the past three years.

Of course, the first thing you would want to know is why I am not dirty, smelly, speaking in third person, or trying to eat you when you aren't looking. Explaining that I am not a normal ogre when I am standing in front of you like this is stating the obvious, but some explanation is understandably desired.

My youth is a fuzzy memory, but I believe it to have been a normal one, by Ogre standards. I was a member of the Eye-biter tribe; a tribe any well-travelled caravan is likely to be familiar with. I was born to one of the more powerful members of the tribe, and was expected to do great things. In my youth and ignorance, I listened to tales of our tribes "great heroes", who are everything you would expect an Ogre to be and they were everything I wanted to be.

On the other hand, there were hushed whispers of one Ogre, a former Eye-biter who had been thrown out of the clan. At first, no one would tell me about his story, which drove me harder to find out about him. After a great deal of persistence, I uncovered part of his story.

His name was Wunka, and he was called a traitor. He had once been a mercenary loyal to Grandfather Malron, but had betrayed the clan to join another army, worst of all; it was an army of thinlings. And he had done so voluntarily, without Grandfather Malron being paid by the thinlings for his service. This was considered to be a great offence, and that made him just the kind of enemy a young Ogre could make a name for himself by eating.

So I went off to make a name for myself killing this traitor. The details of much during that time are difficult to remember as my mind was not as clear as it is now. Rather than detail the sketchy half-remembered events of my first ogre-hunt, I will simply say that I eventually found the traitor and challenged him to single combat. He beat me within an inch of my life and left me for dead.

I remember some of that beating, but not all of it. Most clearly, I remember the look of boredom on his face as he tore my weapon away and beat me with his bare hands. I remember thinking that I should have won, because the Great Maw had blessed my quest. I think I said something along those lines, because as Wunka threw me away after the beating, he told me something that changed my life.

"If the Maw really blessed you, go ask it why!"

I'm not sure if he actually meant for me to do what I did next or not, but remember, in an Ogre tribe, you do what someone stronger than you tells you to do or you end up in their belly. So, when I could move again, I went on a pilgrimage to the Great Maw. It was a long and difficult journey, taking almost half a year. I remember eating rocks to quiet my stomach. I remember being so hungry that nothing else existed to me... nothing but eating, and no matter how much I ate I only wanted more. And I remember a green glow.

I don't remember if I ever actually reached the Great Maw, or if I asked it a question or ever found an answer. I don't really remember leaving the Maw, I just remember traveling again and needing to find the one who had beaten me. The more I traveled, the stranger I became. Often I would awaken in strange places thinking strange thoughts... but those thoughts were clear, unlike any I had ever had before. I began to understand beyond the basic animal instincts which I had lived with. I would black out for long periods, waking at times covered in blood, and at times surrounded with what I thought were strange little pictures carved into the ground by my own hand. Always, I would feel the need to find the one that had beaten me.

Very good. I really like the fact that it is told in first person. It seems like this is an intellegent ogre beyond his peers, and has something great in his destiny.

2.

So I made my way back over the Mountains of Mourne, and though my path was the same as before, this time the trip was radically different... though perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that the traveler was different rather than the trail. There were many things I noticed for the first time, yet must have been there on my previous journey. Not just things about the journey, but things about the world.

I noticed the way rocks split along predictable lines. I noticed the way moss grew on the same side of every tree. I noticed the tracks I left, the smells I made, the sounds of things around me. It was as if an early morning fog in my mind had been burned away with the coming of the strange green glow. I knew that something had happened to me. The impulses that drove me away from my tribe to confront Wunka were still clear to me, but it was like another being had done those things... a being with only a little more brain than a rabid puppy.

I began to do something I had never thought of doing before; I began to question. I looked at varying sides of things and came to many simple conclusions about myself, my tribe, my race and the world we occupy. I had heard tales of thinlings and seen many caravans, and I knew these thinlings were strange and had many wonders; wonders that I wanted to understand and experience, which is part of why I am here. One thing, however, I never questioned. I must find the one that had defeated me.

Following a trail over a year old would ordinarily not be a simple task, but in the case of Wunka it was surprisingly easy. Ogre tribes, as a rule, devour anything that doesn't run too fast or fight too well within the first month of establishing a temporary "home" during their nomadic wandering. There is plenty of dangerous or elusive prey around for hunting, though, and any ogre tribe will always accept meat in trade for information, especially from a single hunter searching for someone.

Wunka had been thru the homelands of several tribes, always moving north and west, toward human lands. As he travelled, he spoke to other ogres of many things. If the ones that stayed behind could be believed, he spoke of fanciful tales of false treasures to entice the young off into a mercenary life. Apparently, Wunka was now traveling with several ogres, both making him more dangerous and easier to track.

I still had the blackouts from time to time, but I learned to compensate. I built a crossbow and learned to hunt with the aid of beasts. I learned many things in the first six months of my new awakening, and came to many realizations about things I believed true. When I finally closed in on my quarry, nearly two years after my defeat at his hands, I neither physically nor mentally resembled the one he had defeated.

3.

I caught up to Wunka as he travelled a well-worn path with a pair of rather competent looking ogres. They were traveling north and seemed to have a specific destination in mind, and that destination wasn’t far since they had very light packs but did not appear to be hunting for food. So I let them get several hours in front of me to avoid the chance of being spotted, and with the aid of my two sabertusk companions, tracked him until sundown.

I may have missed your explanation, but just incase you never gave one; Why is it that your ogre is this literate? I mean, I thought they were meant to be degenerate, belligerent, half-wits...

JJ

basically, he went on a quest to the Great Maw & was mutated by all that warpstone. The warpstone has made him tougher, smarter and subject to ocasional blackouts.

Ohhhh! I love it! Great idea mate

JJ