C45.CONSCRIPT.54621: seriouslyguise.jpg - Aren't I supposed to be somewhere other than the ceepee spawn?

“Larrrrr laaaaaa glummmmmm ah gonggggggg…” is what Renar’Kek chanted, seated on the floor he repeated this for hours, totally concentrated, body and soul when his state of mind was suddenly broken by an unexpected call.“Rah, gong a la?” called a raspy voice, as Renar’Kek craned his head around to see who spoke the view of his small but comfortable shack in the village he called home was all he saw. Seeing as no one was within his home he figured they must have called from outside, as he lifted himself to his hooves and began to exit to greet the visitor, his hooves clopping on the floor when he walked.  It was Denok’Alar, the eldest and wisest Vortigaunt in the village dressed in near antediluvian Xen formal attire. Renar’Kek knew the moment he spotted him that it was time, time for his rite of passage as some would call it, for the full secrets of his village and their advanced and unique manipulation of Vortessence. He followed Denok’Alar away from the front of his house, toward the traditional grounds as he walked by he met the faces of his fellow peers and brothers, their bulbous red eyes following him as he walked by them. All nodded to him when he passed as a way of showing him their congratulations. As they reached the grounds, Xen undergrowth meshing under their hooves with each step Denok’Alar turned to him, his wise orange eyes resting contently and proudly upon Renar’Kek as he himself had watched Renar’Kek grow from an infant. He opened his aged mouth and began to preach the ceremonial words, “Gala gol, henok gong tar amak,” he shouted, his raspy, ancient voice echoing throughout the grounds, all villagers listening attentively. “Dagok atag ga magoi-“his sentence was abruptly ended by a vast tear, rippling open in the sky above. The villagers gawked up, wide eyed in a mix between wonderment and horror as the tear widened and widened making a sound much like that of a million Headcrabs screeching the ballad of attack all at once. The tear had finally been opened entirely; its image was odd and displayed what appeared to be almost like….another land! It began to suck everything within range into this other dimension, from villagers to the fungal growths rooted tightly to the ground. Renar’Kek was holding onto a sturdy species of Xen foliage with one claw, and onto Denok’Alar with the other. Shortly after he began to slip, but before her was loosened he shouted to him, “Lar la glum ah gong…” the very words Renar’Kek was chanting before he was visited. As Renar’Kek stared on in shock his grip he had on the foliage loosened, sending them both skyward into the rift. Upon begins lifted a large Xen stone had flown up and impacted into his skull, knocking him unconscious. The screaming of his Vortigaunt brothers was drowned out as all went black.      
The light of day slowly made its way across Renar’Keks’ face, his enormous red eyes opened to reveal strange ground soil, extra terrestrial foliage, and odd organisms and a cold white powdery substance cascaded from the heavens never before seen by him. He felt strange, he could not recall where he was from or for that matter, who he was. Renar’Kek looked about, nothing was in sight, but odd hoof prints leading due north. He decided to follow them as maybe he can find someone to help him, as he ventured his hooves crunching the snow he came across a half frozen over body of water in which he saw his reflection, nothing out of the ordinary…he may have forgotten who he was but not what he was. When a second figure, looking like him only wiser, older, and in a tattered regalia. He spun around hissing, unsure if this creature of his species was friend or foe. The older vortigaunt kept his composure and simply asked, “Renar’Kek, agen tar amat? Nodor Denok’Alar.” Renar’Kek eyed the vortigaunt who called himself, “Denok’Alar” warily for a moment before deciding he was no threat. He asked in his native tongue who this Renar’Kek he spoke of was and where he was. He was answered, and in time grew to understand his predicament. He was Renar’Kek and upon being sucked out of Xen by a mysterious rift he was struck by a flying boulder and suffered from amnesia! Upon the days that passed by in their unfamiliar environment, they barely survived off the foreign plants they deemed edible and the very few animals about as Denok’Alar slowly re-taught Renar’Kek of the ways of their people. One fateful freezing morning there was crunching in the snow made by humanoids not of the two Vortigaunts, the figures crept about silently and stealthily their silhouettes suggested they were heavily armed. They invisibly made their way over to where the two had set up their temporary shelter and pounced. A flurry of white powder enveloped Renar’Kek, temporarily blinding him as the loud hiss he recognized to be Denok’Alars; followed by the zapping of electricity. A radio call went through the air in a tongue Renar’Kek did not understand and as his vision was no longer blinded he saw one of the figures on the floor slain, his blue armor had a large scorch in its center. Its weapon was in the snow, the labeling written in Xen and read: AR2 model 21334. The air then was split by a loud mechanical discharge of the other figures “AR2” and Denok’Alar, the wise and near ancient vortigaunt fell making a soft thud in the crisp snow. Renar’Kek simply sat there, frozen; the shock that the only one of his species he had ever known since his loss of memory was now dead, leaving him entirely alone. The figure strode up to him and the back of its weapon met Renar’Keks’ face with much force, knocking him out cold.
Upon his awakening he was in a small space, made entirely of a strange metal he did not recognize. The only light came from a vent in the ceiling and the glass of the odd doors in the rooms’ front. The room was bare, all except for a small trey with a grayish sludge on it. Upon seeing it, his belly ached from hunger and he got to his hooves in hopes that whatever it was, it was food. It seemed of no danger and he ate the substance, ignoring its seemingly bland taste as a white masked humanoid figure dressed in a black and white uniform approached the glass. The humanoid pressed a button on the other end and the glass slid open. The figure strode inside, a blunt metal stick with zaps of electricity hungrily lapping at the air in hopes of tasting flesh and tossed a rag at Renar’Keks’ hooves. It spoke; its voice shrouded by a radio like tone and spoke in a language Renar’Kek had heard earlier upon the other figures death but still did not understand, “Pick up that rag and start wiping down the Nexus, dog!” Renar’Kek simply tilted his head in confusion and opened his mouth and repeated, “D-do-g?” he looked on expecting to be corrected but he was horribly wrong. The figure chuckled and swung the stick at him with great force, he jerked to the side, his flesh trembling as the shock of the blow and charge coursed throughout his body. He looked up at the figure, he wished to lash out and strike it with all his might but upon moving his arms, only the jingling of chain was the response; he was bound. “Pick up the rag!” the creature repeated, this time he gestured to the cloth upon the floor as if he were picking it up. Renar’Kek reluctantly copied his action, picking up the rag. “Good.” The figure walked up to him and unbound his chains, but before doing so it forcefully placed a collar around his neck, along with a waist collar and cuffs. It kept a steady stance, as if should Renar’Kek try to run it would result in his own demise. He began to leave, gesturing for Renar’Kek to follow; they walked out through a couple doors until he was out in the dark, musty air of a city. City 11 a giant sign above read, not that Renar’Kek could read the language. The humanoid pointed to a wall and made a gesture as if it were scrubbing the wall with the rag, Renar’Kek complied and scrubbed with a short raspy sigh as the other creatures walking on two legs in strange blue clothing walked to and fro staring in awe. This was his fate….alone, remembering little to nothing, and abused.