The Tale of Murgh

The tale
The Tale of Murgh is a legend about a certain orc who left her village to prove her strength. It is, like all orc tales, not told through writing but by the older orcs reciting it around the fires.

The story is told as follows:

Exile
Murgh was strong. Though, so was any orc. She’d proven her strength through hunting, though had bested many an orc in wrestling. She was older than most when she first smashed a human’s skull in. Feeling the bones crunch under her fist, Murgh did not feel the sense of pride and bloodlust her fellow orcs did. And so, she asked the chieftain to be left behind during the raids, to hunt and follow the path that fit her so well.

The chieftain was displeased. His tribe was losing against the other orcs in the area, and raids had become the only way they could sustain the settlement. That’s what he told his fellow orcs, anyway. Truth is he did not want to be without the riches and luxuries the other tribes could afford their leaders. Even if it ultimately meant the demise of their settlement, he would probably be dead before that happens.

So, the chieftain exiled Murgh to set an example. She’d never been much of an actual warrior anyway, and now the orcs would fall in line. Murgh, however, was strong-willed. As she left her home she swore that she would prove that the orcs’ value was not determined by the loot they stole, but by their skill, and their spirit’s resolve.

Murgh travelled south. Farther south than any orc had any been before. She encountered humans in the forests, who all fled in fear as soon as they saw the giant, green shape moving between the branches. Murgh had no interest in them, though sometimes at night she would hear parties of soldiers moving about the forest, looking for the orc invaders camp. Alone, she’d evade their pursuits, and leave them questioning whether they’d actually seen one.

The field
Eventually she reached a never-ending grassy field. Murgh had indeed seen the ocean before, but had she not she could easily have mistaken it for this grassy plain. Making her way down the mountain, she spotted something strange. It looked almost like branches, running across the ground. As she descended, she realized they grew deeper than she’d first thought, and when she reached the ground it was clear that these crevices ran along the plains as far as she could see, and stretched dozens of feet below her. She thought to herself, that any animals here must be hiding within these narrow paths, and having not caught anything that would prove her worth yet she made the decision to continue forward below ground.

Even though the plain was not covered in sand, but short yellow grass, the heat of the day and the cold of the night were exactly as in the desert she’d come from. Dramatically different. It was colder underground, and wetter. She guessed the rain water must come through here, quickly leaving the plains to sink below the surface. And she was right. Murgh survived the journey through the cracks by drinking the water of shallow rain water rivers, and the moisture of the cavernous walls. She could even forage plants that grew in the dusk-like darkness, and hunt the insects living under the rocks. Her patience, however, was running thin. She’d set out to prove herself, not become and explorer. Where was the prey that would bring her honor and pride? To Murgh’s delight, she would soon find it.

The encounter
A dozen days after having entered the plains, the came upon a great rift. It ran parallel to the horizon, making it impossible to see from a distance. Had she not travelled here herself she’d never have known it existed. It stretched about twenty feet in front of her, and hundreds of feet to her right and to her left. Exactly how long it was, she could not tell, and imagined she would not discover either. Exiting the passage, and shielding her eyes from the sun, a noise startled her. Something was living in this ravine, and it was definitely larger than an insect.

Murgh readied herself, raised her spear, and waited. She heard the sound of rocks tumbling, and the ground shook with each footstep the creature took. Around a corner, the boar appeared, and roared. It was larger than a hut, taller than her and as wide as two bears laying atop each other. The boar gazed at her, and she gazed back. Though Murgh was intimidated, she knew that this was the moment she had travelled all this way for. This was the test she’d hoped for.

The boar started walking. The walk quickened. And the boar began running toward her. Murgh did not move a muscle, not until the boar was close enough. She then braced herself, and using the wall behind her she vaulted over the tusks of the beast, landing on its back. The boar was furious, and charged forward, hoping to crush her in a roll of its body. Murgh was not stupid enough to stay clinging to a beast of this size, and jumped off before the boar had the chance to smash her against the ground. Before doing so, she swung her spear toward the boar’s ear, and cut it clean off. The boar shrieked. It had likely never been hurt like this before. It got up from the roll and charge recklessly toward Murgh. She was nowhere near a wall, and the boar moved with incredible speed. She realized she couldn’t dodge, and decided to attack instead.

She planted her spear in the ground and jumped backwards. The boar charge into it at full speed, piercing its side and halting its charge. Murgh waited not a moment, and quickly charged forward, stabbing the boar in the left eye. Blinded, and with but one ear to spear, the boar roared in agony. It got up, but even standing was hard now. The spear had pierced its muscle, and it could hardly stand on its forward right leg. It was only a matter of time before the blood loss would weaken it too much to fight.

Murgh, however, was without spear. And she could not finish it with only her knife, not from this range. The boar, through sheer force of will, shattered the spear within its body and forced its leg to bear the weight of its body. It stood up, and it looked at Murgh with nothing but hate. Murgh became fearful. Maybe for the first time since she was a child, she feared an animal. She had always been taught that only a fool was not cautious when dealing with animals. Even a deer could kill an orc with a well-placed kick to the chest, especially once cornered. And even though she’d kept these lessons close to her heart, or perhaps because she’d kept them there, she’d never been scared of the wildlife of her desert. But this boar was different, it had never felt such pain before and something told her it knew something she did not.

A soft rumbling. She took her eyes of the boar for a second. The rumbling grew louder. Around the corner water came roaring forward. The rain water! It had been a day since the last rain, but it must have all congregated in this one ravine, finally forming the river that carved the canyon out of the land generations ago.

And somehow the boar saw this coming. While Murgh was distracted, it charged. Before she regained her composure, she was already in range of its tusks. With a thrust of its head, it tore her arm off, and sent her flying. She hit a wall, and started drifting toward the bottom of the ravine. The boar closed on her, sticking to the side and anticipating the coming flood. Murgh was almost paralyzed by the pain, but she would not give in. Not now.

She started crawling toward the other side of the ravine. The boar continued following her while staying near the wall. In its weakened state, it would not be able to withstand the torrent, and the last charged had pushed the splinters of the spear even deeper into its body. Murgh turned around, now laying on her back in the bottom of the ravine, seemingly awaiting her doom. And then she threw the knife at the boar. It flinched, but the knife cut a shallow wound in its cheek. Its body got tense with rage, and it forgot all sense of self-preservation. It stepped beyond the rim of the canyon floor, and made its way toward her.

Murgh gathered strength, and stood up. She had no spear, no knife, but reached for the last weapon she did have: the bear tooth around her neck. The boar kept walking. It steps grew unsteady. Soon it would come to a stop. But before that, it made one last charge toward Murgh. The bear tooth was from a big one, about four inches long, but not nearly enough to fell such a great beast. Then again, that was not her intention.

“I’m boared with you.”

The boar thrust its tusks towards her. Murgh grabbed the left one with her remaning arm, and swung to the side of the beast. She stabbed it in the face with the knife, and hunched over. The beast knelt beside her, and as the roaring flood neared, it gave in and laid down. The flood came crashing around them and hit the side of the boar, but for the moment its body protected her from the onslaught. The water rose quickly around her, but she managed to make it to the top of the boar before she drowned. She knew the boar would not hold on for long, and she would not get a good grip on the water soaked fur. Yet Murgh did not rush to the canyons walls, but patiently.

Up ahead, driftwood was making its way down the chaotic, newly formed, river. They were her last chance. She jumped for it, splashed into the water, and immediately got sucked backwards. Thick branches surrounded her, scratching and pummelling her already weakened body. But, Murgh was too strong willed to surrender, and managed to get hold of a tree trunk. Dragging herself up, she began to realize how dire the situation truly was. The flood would not stop anytime soon, but continue down the canyon, and she needed to tend to her arm before she passed out from the blood loss.

Luck however, was on her side. Up ahead a larger trunk had already formed a barricade, floating just atop the water, and barely holding on. Murgh would collide with it either way, and so braced herself to jump to it. Clutching the trunk, she threw up her left leg and lifted herself atop it. With her last remaining strength, she crawled to the cliffside, and made her way to safety.

Well, safety was relative. She was now hunching over and unable to walk. Nearby was a crevice and she made her way inside. Murgh ripped off a piece of her cloth, hurriedly tied it to the wound, and then laid down with the bandage facing the rock. The bleeding receded, and her vision faded, and her mind became blank.

The singing
She woke up to a beautiful song. Blinking, Murgh slowly came to. The bleeding had stopped and the pain was gone. She slowly turned to one side, and pushed herself of the ground. Wiping her dirty hands on her cloth, she attently listened to the voice, no, voices. They were singing in a language she had never heard before. Murgh did not know what they sang about, but surely the lyrics must have been as beautiful as the voices giving them life.

She turned around. The flood was still roaring, not as intensively as before, but roaring nonetheless. Murgh had left her belongings on the other side, and she could not return without a trophy from the boar either way. With no pressing matters at hand, she decided to find the source of the voices. Murgh turned around and began walking further into the dark passage.

Unlike most paths she’d travelled through these past two weeks this one did not stretch all the way up to the plains. It leads underground, and farther than she could see. The singing echoed against the walls, and gave her some sense of space within the tunnel. During her time here, she had not encountered any dangerous insects or animals lurking in the passages and so she did not fear the darkness here. Even though a slithering or the tapping of small, soft, feet could be heard in the cracks of the walls she knew she was safe, and the voices spurred her on.

Murgh emerged into a large cave. At its highest point of the caverns ceiling was a hole, and through it moonlight beamed down. Vines covered the walls, and flowers bloomed in the darkness, reflecting the light across the cave. There were no one here, but she had a feeling whoever where singing were near. There was a tunnel next to the one she emerged from, and she started down its path. But the singing grew weaker. She turned around and chose another path, but again the singing got quieter. Murgh returned and walked through the last passage, but this was not where the singing was coming from. She looked at the ceiling and its hole. The voices could not possibly come from the surface, the hole was much too small to allow voices so loud through. There was no other possibility, the singing came from within the cave.

She looked around once more but could not see anyone or any cracks in the walls in which they could be hiding. The only unusual thing about this cavern were the flowers. Murgh approached and inspected them. The sound seemed to become louder the closer she got. In fact, she could even make out a single, distinct voice coming from that place, but there was no way anyone was anywhere near that place.

Murgh touched the flower, and the singing stopped. She looked around. Nothing had changed within the cave. Not a thing had stirred, not a thing had moved. “What do you seek here?” the flower asked. Murgh turned toward it. Of course, it was the flowers that sang. “I seek you,” she answered. “No, we ask you why you traveled from your home?” they whispered in unison. Murgh got up and gazed upon the shining flowers. “They doubted my resolve,” she said. “So you left?” they responded. “Yes, to show them strength comes not from conquest, but from within,” she answered. “You speak wisely, but you act like a fool,” they said. “A fool?” Murgh said, now on guard. “You claim you know the value of the soul, but let others dictate your path,” they said, raising their voices. “What else could I do? I still care for them… I must show them the chieftain is wrong and that we should not let pointless fighting over riches consume us,” Murgh said, baring her teeth. “If you do not follow your instincts, much suffering awaits you,” the flowers whispered, and then their glow faded. Their vines began moving, slithering down a tunnel. “Wait!” Murgh shouted, unsure why. She ran after but fell in the darkness that now enshrouded the cavern.

The journey home
Then she woke up. Murgh did not often dream as she was a light sleeper, always prepared for a night-time animal attack. And so, she wondered over the meaning of the dream, until the pain struck her once more. The bleeding had stopped but it still felt like her arm had been torn off. She grabbed the bandage, and remembered that was exactly what had happened. Murgh cursed and briefly fell into despair. Even if she survived, she would be a cripple for the rest of her life. How could she now prove the value to her tribe? She’d never be the hunter she once was.

Murgh remembered what the flowers had said, about not letting others dictate her path. What crap. To an orc, their tribe meant everything. She had to restore her honor and show the chieftain how weak he truly was to value luxury over what was best for the people. Yes, she had to survive, and she had to get back with her trophy. Murgh scavenged the nearby area for plants, finding nothing that could soothe the pain. Plenty of them were edible however. She would lay there for four days, eating nothing but plants and slowly waiting for the wound to heal.

On the fifth day, she had recovered enough to be able to move. She climbed out of the cave and headed back to where she had come from. The roaring flood was nothing but a calm stream. The awesome power of the water was not something she had witness before, but now would never forget. It did not take long until she encountered the corpse of the boar she had killed five days ago. Its corpse was mostly untouched, a insects had taken it in their possession and maggots crawled out of every orifice in its hide. Murgh grabbed a rock, and knocked its giant tusks out. Since she had lost the bear tooth she carried around her neck she figured the boars massive tooth might make a fine replacement. Maybe not around her neck though… perhaps she’d make a headgear out of it? Well, that was after she’d shown it to every orc back home.

Eventually she found her backpack. Animals had eaten all the food she had collected but retrieving her missing belongings was still something of a comfort. She’d used the cloth she was wearing before to bandage the wound, and since it had to be rebandaged to keep infections out a lot of it was now bloody and hardly fit to wear. Murgh fashioned herself a loincloth from the extra cloth she had brought, grabbed a knife, and headed back to the corpse. She skinned part of the beast, and draped it over her shoulders. Despite not liking how it made her sweat from the heat she knew the extra clothing would protect her against the rough, stony, environment.

The journey home was much more difficult than the journey there had been. Time passed more hurriedly, however. Maybe it was because she had accomplished her goal, perhaps because the pain, while steadily decreasing, distracted her from thinking about how much distance she’d covered. In any case, after another dozen days she was out of the plain and stood looking back at it. Now that she knew that canyon stretched out somewhere far out in the distance, and the life that inhabited the many crevices stretching out like a spider’s web over the surface, she’d gained a new perspective. And what this perspective brought with it, was an appreciation of home. Murgh turned around, and headed back over the mountains.

Unable to properly climb, the journey over the mountains proved difficult. They were jagged and cut her skin every time she pulled herself up over a ledge. Still she continued on, more determined now than ever. While here, she took the opportunity to hunt. To her relief, despite missing an arm, her instincts and skill was enough to fell even bears by luring them into traps and then finishing them off with her knife. Not only was she determined, but confident, and strong. Having suffered the loss of a limb had strengthened her resolve and while not making her herself stronger, certainly aged her mind. She was still one of the, if not the, greatest hunter in the whole region and now because of her travels she knew she had the wisdom and experience to lead her people. Once she was back, she would kill the chieftain and then her people would lead fulfilling lives and not serve under a worthless leader. She was sure of it.

Nearing the region of her home, she spotted smoke in the distance. It could have been a hunting party out in the mountains looking for goats, but the smoke was coming from multiple fires. She estimated there were at least thirty of them here, and probably human. Murgh moved around the camp, and decided to observe them during the night. To her surprise, they were orcs. And not just any orcs, they were from her tribe. She kept away from them and waited until sunrise. From a distance, she continued observing them. Why had they come all the way here? Where they exiled too? Or were they perhaps sent to prevent her from returning? No, there must be some other reason for so many of them to have traveled all this way, through human territory nonetheless. They seemed to be lightly armed, she only spotted half a dozen spears and no metal weapons. Having decided they were harmless, she approached them.

Home
“I see you’re far from home,” she greeted them. “You… who are you?” asked one of them. “She’s- she’s Murgh! Murgh, the one who was exiled two months ago!” said another. “Is this true?” asked the first. “Yes, and I’ve brought proof of my worth,” she said and showed them one of the tusks. They stared at it, but their faces showed not the astonishment and admiration she had hoped for. Their gazes returned to her. “Impressive,” the first said. “What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve suffered a great defeat,” said Murgh. The orcs looked at each other. “That we have,” replied the second. “What? Who was it? Did another tribe sack the settlement? Was it the humans?” Murgh said, startled. “Well… both,” said the second. The first began to speak: “We were overrun at night by another tribe. They fought without honor, and killed many in their sleep. The chieftain commanded us to escort him out of the village, and we obeyed. He promised us he had sent messengers to the other villagers, telling them to scatter and regroup with us in the forest for a counter attack. Instead we found ourselves going deeper into the forest and having walked for a whole day we started demanding answers. He told us the village was lost, and how our only hope of survival was to flee. He had lied about sending those messengers, and our families and tribesmen lay dead back in our home. We killed him then and there, but there seemed to be no point in electing a new leader. There was no tribe to lead, after all”.

Murgh could not say a word. After all her thoughts of returning, of challenging the chieftain… This was not an event she had planned for. And yet amidst this doubt she still felt that burning rage.

“What happened next? Surely you returned to the village after killing the chieftain?” she asked. The first answered: “Yes. And we buried the dead. Though it took almost a week, it was the least we could do. After all it was we who abandoned them there…”. “We could not have known!” the second said. “I know, I know…” the first said with sadness in his eyes. He was quiet for a while, but then spoke again: “We knew we could not stay. Had we tried to rebuild we would have been crushed once again. Our only choice was to leave, and return once our tribe had grown. However… while traveling through the humans territory they ambushed us. They cut twenty of us down, but we repelled them in the end. Armored ones were among them, so it seemed certain they would return in greater numbers. We went here instead, and have been traveling around the mountain range, keeping away from the humans’ search parties”. This was no way for orcs to live, Murgh thought to herself. Something had to be done. These were the remaining tribesmen she’d sought to lead. What could she do for them?

“We need to end this. The humans can’t scare you anymore,” she said. The first orc scoffed: “If we could we would’ve done it. Do you think we’re weak just because we followed the chieftain? Do you think you can come here and become the new leader? You were exiled for not wanting to fight, remember?”. Murgh was silent. She’d not expected to return to such hostility, not after her triumph over the boar. But, she remained adamant in her desire to protect them. “We can’t show the humans any weakness, they will take this as an opportunity to expand within our territory. If they do, we’ll never reclaim our village,” she said with confidence. The other orcs had gone silent. The first still looked at her with much skepticism. “Where is the humans’ village?” she asked. “A bit further south of here, close to the mountain,” said the second. “Hmm, I think we can use that to our advantage,” Murgh said and strode into the village, telling them of her idea.

It was quite simple. The orcs had immeasurable strength and the mountains were filled with large boulders. After a few days of collecting and rolling them up the hill, they had surrounded the human settlement below from atop. During the night, they let them loose, and the boulders thundered downhill. They smashed into the village, destroying many of their huts. The humans ran out, screaming and flailing. Several boulders, including Murgh’s, struck the large, long, hut where the armored ones had been sleeping. Though many came rushing out shortly after the first boulder struck, their screams could be heard all the way to the top of the mountains. The orcs did not attack, they simply waited and observed the humans.

Reclamation
During the following days, the armored ones began to leave. The boulders had caused much damage to the village and destroyed their storehouse. It could no longer support the group of fighters. As Murgh expected they simply thought the boulders had fallen on their own, or perhaps blamed one of their gods for the events. None thought that the orcs would plan something like that, especially if they did not follow up with an attack. Despite not fighting, they had halted the armored ones’ approach toward their territory and they could now turn back toward their home.

It took them half a dozen days to reach it. But when they did, they found it much as they had left it. A few wolves had made the caves their home, but where soon cleaned out, mostly by Murgh herself. They started rebuilding, setting up their huts once more, but they all knew full well that the other tribes would soon discover them and turn on the easy prey. Not until they had amassed some resources and became worth raiding, but still, the thought of the impending attack hung over them like a sharp blade.

Murgh decided to act preemptively. She trained the other orcs in hunting, though already experienced they learned much from her and the experiences she recently gained during her travels. Together they set out in hunting parties, hunting down much prey in the area. They traveled long distances, often close to the other villages, and killed all animals they encountered. They only brought back what they needed, and burned the rest. Murgh asked some to stay behind as scouts, and as she thought the villages started blaming each other, and sent out troops to attack each other.

Through fighting and through a lack of food, their statuses declined and they became week. A generation later Murgh’s tribe had grown much, and were the only ones still capable of hunting the reclusive prey that had grown quite weary of the orcs. After another generation, Murgh led an attack that crushed the remaining villages and united them all. She was never crowned chieftain, but no one else was either. She would die, fighting off human evaders at forty-three years of age, but her legacy lived on. Chieftains would replace her as leaders of the tribes, and they would gain the name “Murgh’s chosen” in memory of the legendary hunter.