The WAAAAGGGHHH! of Remnant

Where iz my bloody 'Ardboys?

"Uggghhh, my damn 'ead" 

Rising from a crushed bush, you opened your eyes. With your one red eye you looked around yourself. Red leaves covered about everywhere, not making sense of where the hell you were at. You stood up fully making sure your massive body was not harboring any wounds, surprisingly, you were fine. Memories flooded inside your green head. An image of Crom beheading you arised from the other thoughts of endless slaughter. But if he killed you, how though are you still alive? The idol on your chest shimmered, then died down. Gork and Mork. They had let you down, it must be how much you disappointed them from losing to the right-hand man of Archaon Everchosen. Rage filled your soul. You lost. But you weren't allowed the freedom of death. Was this a blessing, or a curse to never be able to walk along the gods in the heavens?  

"Gork and Mork, have you'z finally left me? I iz your chosen one! You can't just abandon me! NO ONE TURNS THEIR BACK ON GRIMGOR IRONHIDE!!!"

No matter how much you roared into the sky, no sign told you otherwise. A wet tear fell down your cheek and dropped to the earth below you. The gods shamed you. Your legs finally gave way, the thud sounded out as you hit the rocks. A sight no Dawi or man thought possible. A greenskin crying his heart out, an orc, a black orc for the matter, letting his emotions show. For the next 15 minutes, you lay there, refusing to accept that the ones you believed to be following you from above, set their eyes on some other orc or goblin. Wait.....other orcs.....eye widening, you glanced around at your surroundings. Not a greenskin around. Realizing that if you were seen in this state. You hopped up and notice stuck in a tree, was Gitsnik, your axe that you knew like the back of your green hand. Ripping it out of the wood, you slung it over your back. If the gods left you, then you were gonna make them come back. Make them truly regret the moment they refused to aid you. Trodding the ground with your iron boots. You made your way through the red forest. Not a sign of life or any civilization came across your eye. Unless you count the black creatures you nicknamed "blackie beasts'. While they nothing of difficulty, they still made sure you kept your senses sharp. You may have had some time away from battle. But you were still the asskicker named Grimgor Ironhide, the slaughter of many warriors. And the world better know it, or you would stomp any fool that didn't to dust. Then kill the ones that did. Just for one hefty laugh.