Wednesday, August 29, 2007

'Tazla', the Harvester of Rage, for the time being

I am, today, in a rare bad, even an evil mood. The kind of mood where I pick up the ringing telephone, and rather than say, "HALLO?", I am very damn likely to just say "LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO AWAY!", as I slam the phone receiver back down into the cradle. The kind of mood when you ought to cross the street to pass me by.


I have a reason, a very very good reason for this mood, but neither am I interested in writing specifically about it now, nor do I think I can, nor do I think it's any of your damn business. Suffice it now, just to read the following excerpt about a creature so dark and so full of rage, that he and I could be best friends or closer, today.
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Angrily lifted from Tale of the Harvester of Rage


Decades ago, an impenetrable darkness shrouded the once great civilisation of orcs. Countless victims fell to the ravenous hunger and pestilence that the darkness brought with it. In the mountain ranges of the north, a new life was born one day as the darkness shrouded the little orcish civilisation there. The newborn orc was a shame to the village because of its extreme ugliness. Two gleaming crimson eyes peered angrily at their surroundings and a large mouth revealed fangs that had already grown out. "Tazla" was what this ugly creature was named.



Both his father, Ghersath, and his mother, Warinnd, disliked their child's appearance and even though they tried to like it, they felt it impossible. There really was something odd about him, which was the reason why they gave him this abnormal name, meaning 'Lonely Madness'. (L.M.)


Despite Tazla's grotesque appearance, Warinnd and Ghersath both loved their child and doted on him. As he grew older, though, and occasionally showed signs of nastiness, they began to punish his behaviour, for they feared that the darkness that covered the land might have instilled a macabre darkness in their son, and they acted in the hope that they would dissuade him from behaving that way again. Ghersath would beat him, and his mother would not feed him at night. At times like these, starvation and sadness filled Tazla. But even though he felt his parents were sometimes mean to him, he loved them and knew that they loved him.



Ghersath was a poor weapon smith, and could not fully support his family. Warinnd stayed at home, raising Tazla who ran around half nude, with only rags as a loincloth. He was the one who hunted for meat for the family. When he was seven years old, small but heavily built with broad arms almost like his father's, Ghersath gave him a small blade of which Tazla was very fond. He loved to chop off the heads of innocent little rabbits with it. Ghersath knew that Tazla would eventually be one of the strongest creatures living in the realms of DUMII.



But even though he knew this, he taught Tazla the secret art of the berserkers' rage. Ghersath also noted that there was a wildness in Tazla that raged inside him, still young, not yet brought to fruition; and he taught him how to bring out his inner fury and harness this rage into sheer combat powers. These were abilities that Tazla would never forget. His appearance was the ugliest around, according to what the villagers said. The other orcish children would never let him play with them in games such as slashing down the grandfathers of the village, due to his grotesque appearance.



One day Tazla sat down on a stump of an old tree, and thought to himself, "What have I ever done to them to deserve this? Can I help it that I am ugly in their eyes?". The more he thought about it, the more he thought it unfair, and began to fume angrily with the hurt of rejection. As he grew older, his hate against all the village dwellers began to grow and grow until he felt that his heart would explode.



Adrenaline rushed through his veins in seething fury every time someone shunned him. His only comfort was that his parents loved him, despite his appearance. One evening, when Tazla was eleven, a boy, who was regarded as the leader of the orcish imps, came up to Tazla and violently started punching him. When Tazla lay on the ground, drooling blood, the boy yelled at Tazla and told him, "You disgusting beast! You were created by the darkness that came here before our birth. YOU are created by the pestilence which the darkness brought with it. You are not Ghersath's and Warinnd's child, you are a child of darkness!"



As Tazla began to protest, disbelief apparent on his face, the boy jeered. "Don't you know that 'Tazla' means 'Lonely madness'! They didn't want to raise you, but they were forced to do that, by evil powers". With that, the boy laughed at Tazla, spat on him and walked away, leaving Tazla in shock, with nothing left but feelings of utter loneliness and hatred against everyone.

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This lovely, heartwarming tale about my mentor (today) should be read by all, not just lovers of the Tolkien trilogy "The Lord of the Rings". It is a read everyone can identify with at some time.

Now go away! Or risk my enraged impatience. I'll be better tomorrow. Or Tuesday.

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