Hey everyone, now that I'm back into this whole RvB/Roosterteeth thing,,,I though I'd start off on a good foot with my newest miniseries.
So...Here I am...Doing good...and wanting everyone to comment and lemme know how they like this series!
So leave me comments, lemme know whatcha think...and if you like it then tell your friends.
Here we go.

Part 1


“Ark-Ir, what do you have to say for yourself my son.â€Â
The mastiff gnoll bent over his son’s body, axe smeared with blood. The chieftain of the Ark'ark'araou gazed spitefully on the beaten corpse at his feet. He looked down on his son’s mangy fur and yellow eyes. The once brown and black fur was matted by blood, sweat, and spittle. His seven foot tall body curled into a ball at the chieftain’s feet.
Memories rushed into Ark-Ir’s now hemorrhaging brain; beautiful memories of a wonderful life. He recalled his chilled body and excited appetite as his father took him hunting for the first time in his life. Ice sickles cracked at the base of his snout as he took a whiff of the bodily oils spilled out in the snow from the human he had just slain. The proud expression on his father’s face was all the satisfaction he really needed that day. He remembered vividly when he had been named the Ark'ark'araou tribe’s Head Executor. Yet another moment when his father’s proud radiance poured out from every orifice of his body into Ark-Ir’s heart.
A reconnaissance mission had the Executor and his underlings traveling to a village of gnomes in order to find out if they were mobilizing for expansion. They were not. But nevertheless the chieftain changed his orders to a hunt and kill operation. Ark-Ir stood his ground and fought of every gnoll who tried to pass him. Even being raised by the savage chieftain and being promoted to Head Executor, he still had the morality to know that killing innocents was wrong. This brought him to where he is now.
Today his heart is not warm.
“Well Ark-Ir, are you going to redeem yourself? Grovel for forgiveness?†coaxed the leader of the gnoll pack.
Fading in and out of consciousness Ark-Ir managed to spit out three words that would be the beginning of a new legend.
“I...am......Dirgeâ€Â
As he managed to spit the last word his father brought the axe down onto his neck, in a vital spot, severing brainstem from body. A spark jolted his body one last time, and the pup laid slain on the ground of the hut. White light closed in, and ‘Dirge’ knew it was over.


Dirge thought. That was quite odd, considering he was sure he must be dead. Yet he thought of why he had said those words. ‘I...am......Dirge’. It was a word in the language of common, so it should have had no meaning to him. He thought of the definition of a dirge quite clearly nonetheless. A dirge is a somber song expressing mourning or grief, such as would be appropriate for performance at a funeral. He indeed believed he was dead, but he could see no dirge sung for him within the walls of his village. Considering his betrayal, this was no surprise.
A sudden flare of life rooted mind to body as he awoke with a jolt. Dirge jarred his head from side to side to see where he was, and immediately realized that was a bad idea. Pain and fear accelerated his blood flow; this made the wounds on his neck, wrapped by bandages, reopen. He settled back into the patchwork bed, realizing that moving would not be a good idea at this point. So many thoughts raced as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. He knew that his brainstem had been severed, because he felt the sickening pop of his spine dislodging itself. There couldn’t be any way to survive that normally.
A small gnome with cropped hair and a purple bow tie entered the room and Dirge turned his head slowly to face him.
“Ah, wonderful, you’re awake master. It’s good to see you’ve recovered well. We had no choice but to use our magic to restore your body to it’s former power.†the gnome spoke eloquently with a nasally tone and awaited Dirges response.
“We?†Dirge said shakily, he did not use common often.
“Why yes master, the other gnomes. It took over twenty of us to restore your life force, which was fading quickly.†said the gnome very matter-of-factly.
“But...why? Why go so far for me? I do not know you, nor do you owe me allegiance for anything.†Dirge retorted.
“Oh, but do owe you allegiance. Believe it or not, we did see what you had done in regards to attacking your own pack to stop them from bringing harm to us. You have the ethics of a hero, not of your villainous tribe. Your tribe has abandoned you for dead, we have taken you in.†said the gnome, leaning in to tend to Dirge’s neck wound with his wand.
“I thank you, but I’m afraid I have disgraced myself and my village. I have no place on this world without the tribe. We are born of the tribe, we feed from the tribe, we fight for the tribe, we love for the tribe...a gnoll is nothing without his family. I am nothing without my family.†Dirge recited the lines given to him by his teachers within the tribe.
To be continued...


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