messenger of the old ones

this is one the first ones i have written. it was done for competition on a wargaming website i am active for. its not perfect, also i need to practise my grammar more lols.

The bloodied savage greenskin limped his way through the forest listening and watching for signs of pursuit. His wound where his hand had been sliced off had stopped bleeding. The pain was making him move to get to some place where he could rest up and plan his next move. Then he spotted movement up a head, to the right as a rabbit ran in front of him, and disappeared behind a bush, which was on the side of a long low mound covered with trees, and bushes.

 The orc paused, made his way to the bush, and forced his way behind it. To his amazement, he found that the bush hid from view an entrance into the mound. The entrance was a carved lintel supported by two carved uprights the stones were so old and worn only basic shapes could be seen in the stone. The orc stooped down and cagily looked into the doorway and saw nothing but darkness. He shrugged his huge shoulders and entered on his hands and knees. Here he could rest and tends his wounds.

He leaned back against the walls of the chamber were he was hiding. He looked around at his surroundings as his orc eyes could see as clear as day in the darkness. There was another door leading further into the mound, so he watched this as he listened to the sounds of the forest trying to hear if pursuit was coming.

 As he sat, he gave thought to the happenings that had cost him his tribe, army and his hand that morning. All them weeks of fighting against the human armies sent against them, had been good, they had massacred every thing insight. However, today at daybreak they was attacked by dwarves supported by scalely reptiles the size of orcs. Who had charged through a huge shimmering cloak on the opposite side to the dwarfs attack? Caught between the two powerful armies his mix of orcs and goblins had quickly panicked and was destroyed in combat. He had lost his hand to a huge lizard the size of a troll wielding a shining black jagged edged great weapon which had cut through his flesh and bone with the ease of the finest dwarven forged steel.. He had only escaped thanks to three rampaging squigs who attacked the the lizard, biting huge chunks of flesh causing the creature to be eaten alive by the squigs bite by bite. He was lucky to catch hold of a lose boar which had quickly fled in the woods. He had held on for a time until blood loss and caused him to loose his grip. He seemed to have lost his pursuers, but he had an uneasy feeling he was been herded.

As he sat in the darkness his wounds were making him sleepy, so the daylight out the hidden mound faded to dusk and then to darkness. The orc began to dream, not of orc dreams of random, pointless, violence and huge amounts of food, but of a huge human warrior who made the insane Grimgor look weedy. It showed the orc the heroes' life from birth to death in a huge battle against a greenskin horde all dressed in animal skins and wielding weapons made of stone and tree branches. The orcs battled against humans in cured animal skins and wielded weapons of bronze and flint. Apart from the mighty hero who wielded a huge greataxe carved from the purest deepest black obsidian. This mighty weapon cleaved through the bodies of the orcs with blood pulsing ease. It is wielding never needing to rest or eat until the orcs all the lay dead on the field of battle in piles upon piles of dead greenskins.

After the battle the hero collapsed, the power of the axe was spent for the time, as the hero laid in his yurt the axe still in his hand. A small hooded figure squeezed under the tent's side and stealthy approached the hero's side and from its dirty robes produced a dagger made of green obsidian. Therefore, with a flash of green the dagger cut through the wrist holding the axe. This fell to the floor with a thud. The small hooded figure reaches out to pick up the axe but as its hand touched the handle. The unknown figure screamed in pain alerting the guards outside the entrance to the tent. Who stormed in to see the black clad figure dissolve into the black obsidian axe blade screaming in horrifying pain.

The dream moved on to the hero been laid in the burial mound with the great axe with the humans severed hand still grip to the handle. NNo amount of force could remove the hand so it was decided to bury it with its owner. So the barrow sealed and the dream ended.

As the orc woke, it laughed at the dream its simple cunning brain not appreciating the depths of which it was show. The savage beast felt a twinge in its wounded wrist and glanced down to see a terrible sight a huge shining greataxe was grasped in his hand, but it was not his hand, it was a white hand. A humans hand joined at the wrist to his arm. As the orc gazed in fear at this sight the whiteness was starting to move up the forearm to the elbow, the orc let out a primordial scream of rage and sheer blind terror. On a hill, a slann was watching a tall greenish-white humanoid charging into the rear guard of the retreating orc army. The huge black bladed greataxe cutting through the armour and flesh of the greenskins it touched. THe slann turned to group of dwarf clan chieftains standing next to him. "That's the messenger of the old ones. He will fight until the dagger of Krog-krom is found and used against him." The orcs have no knowledge of the dagger, but their smaller cousins do.

Reviews

[mac1]

will do

[Daiku Maryu]

Please, please, please break this up into paragraphs. Reading a block of text like this is horribly tiring.