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Zilog and the Zoram Guard


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Zilog and the Zoram Guard

The sun beat down on the sands at Zoram Strand. Gulls cawed in the distance as waves broke on the shore. A loud wood-against-wood thud is heard and a crowd of orcs jeer in response. Two combatants are faced off and shuffling in positon through uneven sandy footing.

“Knock off her head!” shouts an orc. “Put da panzy down, mon.” says a troll.

Jarmuul, a troll with exceptional size, swings at his opponent with his weapon—a former pine tree, complete with branches and needles. His target is a small, female orc outfitted with a short straight staff.

“Zilog go sleep nuw!” Jarmuul says, as he takes a wide swing at the orc. Once again his attack is deftly avoided and countered.

Captain Krange, accompanied by Corporal Gash, strides up to watch the match. He wanted to observe what he deemed to be his most peculiar recruit.

“Kum on, pushdog troll, end dis ting!” the crowd was impatient having watched this match go no where for so long.

“Dis lik watchin a crow fite a kodo.” The crowd laughed.

Just then, Zilog ducks under a swipe, rolls, and severs a branch from the log. Duel wielding the branch and the staff, Zilog pummels the troll’s hands, disarming him and with a quick blow to his head, sends him down to the sand.

The crowd begins cheering, but is soon silenced by the look on Krange’s face.

“Wut dis?” bellows Krange. “Dis liddul panzy orc, dishonors us!” He waves corporal Gash over. “Flog her til me say stop.”

“Mark my wurds, everyash.

DUB PAWS ASH SPLITT’R!

Zilog, confused, is hauled away to the flogging post.

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Part II

Krange, captain and chief of the Zoram Guard, ruled the secluded Zoram Gar outpost. His face criss-crossed with scars from 20 seasons of service. Although established by Thrall, the outpost neither received nor expected any support from Orgrimmar over the long years. Members of the Guard were born and raised at the outpost. At the Zoram Gar, Krange’s word was law.

Being on the edge of elflands, Zoram Gar was forever plagued by elven onslaughts. Defense against them was the outpost’s top priority. Krange’s contempt of the elves grew steadily over his 20 years. His hate of the elves began to shape all his policies over time. Looking out over the battlements, year after year, Krange would observe and compensate for what he saw and hated. Whatever an elf did, Krange hated.

Elves wore bright colored clothing—then the guard would coat theirs with soot. They had long flowing hair—then the guard would forever shave their heads. Even the use of bows, necessary, for the lack of guns at the outpost, were deemed an insult to the orc made to use them.

Krange observed that elves often dual wield their weapons. Hence his command, his slogan, his phrase which sums up all his philosophy.

DUB PAWS ASH SPLITT’R!

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