Grosh left the cave, more determined than ever before, and made himself a promise: he would not rest until he avenged his family and eradicated the beast who had slain them one by one. It was just small enough for him to barely fit through, but he managed to get inside just in time to hear the impact of the monster’s head on the entrance, followed by the rumbling of stones, completely blocking the exit of the tiny cave he found himself inside. With one last reserve of energy, he blindly shoved himself through a fissure in the mountain. He knew resistance was futile, and so he ran as fast as he could, feeling the ground rumbling and the loud crunching of trees crushed underfoot by the beast, desperate to sink its toothy jaws into Grosh's body. The monstrous creature, his jaws fresh with blood, reared his ugly head in Grosh’s direction and attacked. When he turned to meet the villainous gaze. Grosh had lost hope of finding the elusive place when, on one of his expeditions, he felt the cold stare of evil eyes upon him. And so he used every ounce of strength left in his body, searching for the mythical land, but all proved to be for naught. A legend of a cave with a path to a new land, filled with magic and wonders beyond his imagination. He had remembered a legend his mother had once told him. He knew that to get his revenge he had to look for help. He looked far and wide for any survivors with no luck, he was the only one left. He used to be filled with hope for his future, and how his family would be so proud, but now there was no one left to guide him down the path of a warrior. After all, he was only a young boy at the time and his training as a warrior was not due for another cycle. He managed to kill a few but the bigger enemies proved to be an impossible task. He had followed them but they were too many and too strong for him to hunt alone. He could still clearly recall the sight of his family, torn apart into pieces by the jaws of those monstrous creatures. He hasn't had a full night of sleep since that fateful day when he returned home from hunting, only to find his entire village destroyed and his people murdered. The things he had seen had haunted his every dream, twisting them into terrible nightmares. He had almost abandoned all hope, but now his chance had arrived, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to take it away from him. He needed his approval now more than ever. He couldn't allow himself to lose control of his emotions in front of the Dark Lord. He felt the rage burning up inside, his muscles flinched, but his expression remained stern, not to give away his reaction, for he remembered the place from where the beasts were coming through. The messenger spoke of horrendous beasts, emerging from freshly opened fissures in the mountain. In the throne room, Grosh sat in silence and listened. Intrigued, he insisted on taking the messenger before the Dark Lord, himself. The gigantic warrior didn’t pay attention to the rushed speech until he heard the words “primal terrors”. Grosh was sharpening his axe when the messenger arrived at the courtyard, gasping for breath and requesting an audience with Vez’nan.
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