Morgo was in turmoil. His need to kill was going unsatisfied, causing him to lose all his judgement. He ran in a frenzy, looking for life, for life to kill. He ran on the grassy plains until he tripped and stumbled over a ledge, into a bed of sand.

The sand was being dragged back and forth from the waves of the Palanen Ocean. Morgo got up and sat were the waves could barely reach him. He looked out in the ocean, feeling calm, serene. The endless ocean, the constant pull of the waves.

The raging fire of his mind eased, and he fell into almost a trance. All thoughts were stopped, and the orc gazed out into the ocean. 'The endless ocean,' he thought. Suddenly, his serene state was broken at a sight of pleasure. A picnic.

A little girl and her mother were laying a blanket out on the beach, getting out food and snacks from a basket. Morgo drew Denger's Talon, and rushed over to the unsuspecting pair. The mother looked over, and then took another glance. She began yelling, but Morgo, in his blood rage, couldn't understand what they were saying.

Morgo grabbed a large stone, and hit the mother over the head with it. He repeated that with the daughter, and they fell unconscious. With Denger's Talon, he cut the blanket in half, and wrapped both of them in it. He waited anxiously for them to wake up, and in half hour, he started his work.

"Please, please don't hurt my daughter!" the mother yelled. Morgo just grinned, and then decapitated the little girl. He took special care to make it slow, bloody, and painful. First, he outlined the neck lightly, with a very shallow cut. He repeated the process, making the cut around her neck deeper, deeper and deeper. She screamed loudly, tears mixing with blood and sand. When she was slipping into the embrace of death, he grabbed the young girl by the hair, and yanked with all his might. The head instantly came off around the area of the cut. "Why, she is a screamer!" Morgo said to the weeping mother after he finished.

Morgo set the head in the unsuspecting mother's lap. She looked and screamed, and shook the head off her. Morgo laughed at her misery, and looked at her. With the sharp tip of his mace, he cut off all her fingers. By the nineth finger, she began to lose consiousness from the blood loss. She sceamed with pain, blood dripping on her dress.

Yanking her hair, he slapped her back to reality. "WAKE UP!" he yelled to her with a grin. "Why, were not through yet!" he added with a chuckle. She looked up, face full of exhaustion. The orc then punched her over and over, until her face was bloody pit of gore. He was now at real relaxation. The blood on his fists, face, and body began to dry, leaving his image gory and filled with blood. He sighed and sat on the beach, looking at the waves. The turmoil was calmed, his body relaxed. The sand began to be mixed with blood.

A rumble of waves filled the air, the undertoe roaring as it called back the remnants of water thrown against the beach, pulling rocks and shells with it into the Palanen Ocean. The melody of the seagull squawks from overhead only added to the orchestra of the beach, creating a peaceful, natural sound that beach-goers yearned for. One such beach-goer lay in the sun several meters from the tide's pull, comfortable laid-out on a disheveled bunch of green and red clothing. He was a tall man- quite tall indeed- with defined muscles and several scars passing through points on his lean body, and a mop of messy red hair plopped onto his head. He was tanned, and apparently sleeping, given the long, relaxed breaths that escaped his chest. A stark white seagull passed overhead, lining up with the prone man, and dropped an equally white turd directly on his chest. The man stirred.

“Wha... What the HELL?!” He bellowed, slowly sitting up to inspect the excrement on his chest. “Goddamn freakin' no good birds- gaaah!” He yelled again, standing at full height and sprinting towards the ocean at his feet. He got a few yards into the warm waters and dove head first. Kale had traveled to the beach because he hadn't been to one since he was a little kid, and from what he could remember, it had been quite a bit of fun- though he was seriously beginning to think that his memories had become skewed over the years. This was not fun. He burst out of the turquoise waters mumbling to himself. “Crabs pinchin' me, birds poopin' on me, sun sunburnin' me...” He got back to his spot on the beach and plopped back down in his resting spot, throwing one long, muscled arm over his eyes. Something caught his ear, however, and he immediately sat up, listening. “That sounded like...” He began, perking up his ears once more. He heard it again. Grabbing his sword that stuck into the sand at his side, he jumped to his feet and ran to his left, where the sound had come from. It was the sound of screaming.

Kale arrived at the scene of a massacre. Blood stained the yellow sands of the beach- there was literally a portion of the beach splattered with blood and gore. The Half-Demon could hardly make out what had been killed, or who, though he could see two bodies, one decapitated and the other with a pulpy face that had collapsed from blunt trauma. An orc sat on the sand next to the bodies, covered in blood, and seemingly enjoying himself. Kale snarled, exposing his enlarged canines, and his muscles bulged with anger, a visible flame appearing in his eyes. The Half-Demon wasn't decidedly good, but he didn't accept senseless killing. There was a picnic laid out beside the bodies. He could only assume that the dead bodies were remnants of some beach-going family. He let his sword his the ground in front of him, and a cloud of sand burst from the ground at impact from the weapons tip. Kale was incredibly strong, to say the least.

“You goddamn freakin' orc, are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, taking a step forward with sword in hand. “Why don't you try and fight someone your own size? Huh? 'n I mean in regards to general muscle structure, you piece of crap. 'Cause I certainly can't match that bulk of green mush you call a stomach.” He growled, taking another step forward. He'd enjoy killing this fool.

Morgo had finished up with his 'work', not only but to be approached by a tall, VERY tall, man. His red hair reflected in the sun, which was almost the same hue as the blood in the sand. He had a sword, and was taking an aggressive gesture.

“You goddamn freakin' orc, are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, taking a step forward with sword in hand. “Why don't you try and fight someone your own size? Huh? 'n I mean in regards to general muscle structure, you piece of crap. 'Cause I certainly can't match that bulk of green mush you call a stomach.”

Morgo laughed, and drew his mace, Denger's Talon. The sharp point reflected in the sun. "Ohh, you are certainly the vulgar type aren't you?" Morgo made a hearty chuckle, "and from the looks from it, very unintelligent. You look like a simpleton!" he began to chuckle some more, placing his hand on his belly.

"As for 'picking' on someone my own size, that would require a lot of extra effort, unnecessary effort. Why, doesn't killing this little girl look like a lot more fun than fighting me? Provoked attacks, well, they are not quite the same. I mean, its a challenge, it makes you stronger, but this," he said, gesturing to the massacre, "this is fun!" he said, laughing a hearty laughter again.

"Why, I'm sorry for laughing so much! I just was having so much fun! But if you insist on dying, so be it! I don't mind," he began to take a serious tone, and then continued, "But would you like to postpone your death, maybe for just a while? Let's maybe just talk, get to know each other. Please, allow me to introduce myself," he finished, and then took a step forward.

"I am Morgo, Morgo Domanu. I was born and raised in the desert, in the Iron Prison of Angband. I killed my unloving father and loving mentor at a very young age. As for something I enjoy, well as you can see, killing. Killing in general is just as fun, but innocent killings, that's even more fun. War, battle, slaughter, massacre, all fun," he finished, and outstretched his hand, "and you are?"