The Unholy Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica, a Warhammer Online Destruction Regiment, United in Unhallowed Grace: Part II

Part two of Meeb's back story! Part I Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

Meeb wandered the halls, both trying to find the sanctum’s exit and trying to make his way back to the Dark Lord’s cambers. The Orc, confused and lost, was slowly sinking into a state of despair. Despair that curdled like sour milk in one’s stomach and left the body, soul, and mind weakened. He knew not where he was, who he was, or why he was here. The Greenskin was perfectly, completely receptive.

The gauntleted fist that struck the back of his neck dazed Meeb. The plate covered foot that swept up over his right shoulder, into his temple, and knocking his skull into the granite wall left him sprawled on the floor, unconscious.

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Some time later, the Orc woke to cold water being splashed into his face. Moving to wipe his face, he found that his wrists were bound. Instead, Meeb shook his head, droplets flying from his jowls and tusks.

“Wot hew duuzin’z dat foe!?!” the poor Greenskin asked, thoroughly flustered.

“ENOUGH!” shrieked the Druchii standing before him, still holding a bucket. After a few moments of silence, the Elf regained his composure. “I shall be asking the questions, not you good Orc.”

Meeb looked over the Dark Elf’s shoulder at the exit but, after giving his bonds one final tug and feeling no give, he saw that he had no say in the matter.

“Bery well…”

“Good. Now, tell me everything that took place. Leave out no detail, no matter how small, with Mahk the smallest things are often the most significant.”

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Several hours, and an ungodly amount of questions, later Meeb finished with, “An’ den hew ‘it Meeb!”

“Yes, yes, yes.” The Druchii said absent mindedly, jotting notes down in a ledger. “I have what I need. Be gone from my chambers.”

“Noe.” As the Druchii rose, ready to strike the still bound Orc, Meeb blurted, “Meeb wuntz tuu lern da truufz uv Mista Nwah. Ken hew teech Meeb?”

“Very well, I am Jachin, and your name i-“

“MEEEEEEB GUUUUUUUUN!” Came a shrill cry from just outside the door. “OOOOOOH MEEEEEAAAAAT GRUUUUNT! OOOH-“ Mahk Noir stopped suddenly as he burst into the room. “Ah, there you are. I have a message from Sylvia, you seem to have made a little feathered friend. ‘Life is a bit like an ostrich--it has most lovely plumage indeed, but ceases to get much of anywhere by flapping. Ergo, sandwiches are tastiest-‘ “

“Un’a waata?” Meeb interrupted.

“Precisely.” The Dark Lord responded, turning on his heel and leaving the room as abruptly as he had entered.

Jachin stared, slack jawed, at Meeb and then shook his head and began writing furiously once more, mumbling angrily to himself.

May 2012

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