Oh, I like this one!
Liked the fluff at the beginning and the extra info down below.
I don’t know much about the history of the card, wish someone can shine more of a light on this
This was the only post I ever found on it. 
I have no idea what abilities they used to have, or even if they different card art. Truly, they have been forgotten…
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Ask Jay or Penny, they still might have the artwork someplace.
Aw, the Giants are such kindhearted beings stuck between evil midgets. I already got the idea that they were big sweethearts but the religious perspective does add a good reason for this.
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Thanks dude!
To be honest I just went with that angle cuz I needed to find a way to link why humans have a Cyclops for their banner and the fluff suggested that we got pseudo-Christians here with Alundria humans.
But if you want you can write a giant chapter like you said with them being big dopey guys who would die to defend the little humans. 
Now I don’t know wherever or not I should continue the Pirate gobbos storyline (Orc slavedriver card) or continue Tim the mage and him visiting the Grays in the Citadel (Pool priestess).
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Personally I’m looking forward to the slave driver because of the grim realism of it.
And I unfortunately don’t really have the inspiration or motivation to write something about the Giants.
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Slave driver it is!
And don’t worry man, write about any card you like or a cool match you had!
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For you elf card guys, I think you might get some cool ideas there 
Slavedriver
Row upon row of orcish warriors stood in attention as they were inspected, barely sweating in the arid desert sun. They were lightly armoured, they had no armour to cover their body save a shield and a sword or axe. A chain was around their neck, showing to all their position as warrior slave. They had leather leggings a experienced commander knew those would not stop any arrow or even shrapnel. However what they lacked in armour they made up in scars, war paint and a look only experienced warriors had, those who had seen wars and the horror that came with it.
A large troll with a crown and decked in jewellery walked along them, inspecting each carefully as his cloak bearing a fox on a green field behind him waved behind him.
Beside him was another orc who smiled proudly at his wares as two similar orc warriors marched behind him. He was dressed as a wealthy merchant with a long white fur coat and like his client covered in golden necklaces and the like as well as a green mask shaped like a dragon’s head. He held a whip behind him which he waved up and down as he moved.
“I can assure you, Lord Aziboo, that my warriors are the finest warriors money can buy.” the slaver said.
“I heard that a lot when I talked to previous sellsword companies, Mr Gorvar.” The troll turned to see the orc." So far all they’ve done was getting beaten by a bunch of zealots and leaving my patron high and dry.“
Gorvar smirked.” The difference between a slave and a mercenary is that a slave will die for you when ordered. Coin is strong but the mind is stronger. Also I am certain my warriors surpass any sellsword companies conscript from some back alley." A glint sparked his eye." A demonstration should suffice?"
The slaver stopped and motioned to two orcish warriors to his left." You two, step forward.“
Immediately both warriors stepped forward.
“Fight to the death.” Gorvar said. Both orcs nodded before they squared off against one a other. Quick jabs with a sword and powerfull lunges with a axe were deflected by shield or blade.
Aziboo folded his arms as he oversaw the sudden death match.
“My warriors immediately follow orders without hesitation, third generation slaves do not even understand the concept of freedom.” Gorvar spoke as if he was a proud father.” I had them trained from birth, put a sword in their hand the moment they could walk and had them bloodied when they were finished training."
A hard crash of a shield against a face made teeth fly and blood spill amongst the sand, Aziboo the troll stood unphased. “Bloodied against who? The Blight or…others?”
Gorvar gave a knowing grin before he focused back on the duel at hand.
The one who received a shield to the head was fighting with one eye closed, blood dripping from his nostril and mouth. But in his remaining eye Aziboo saw the old orcish bloodlust take hold. He charged forward and slammed his shield against his opponent hard, again and again and again. Splinters flew everywhere as his own shield broke before he jumped on the other fighter and pinned him to the ground.
The other fighter knew he was beaten but still tried to push his brother off. A stab to the arm from his aggressor’s sword severed the last line of resistance. Now he looked more battered than his brother, staring death in the face. Yet he did not look frightened or angry or…anything. His aggressor roared in his face, his mouth a ruined visage of teeth and blood. He raised his sword to end it all.
The sword stopped when a crack of the whip hit like a lightning bolt across the sky.
“Stop.” Gorvar commanded. And so the slave warrior did. It took a moment for the bloodlust to subside before he helped his brother up and both saluted their master." That will be all, go see the healer." They saluted again before leaving.
Aziboo frowned." You did not let one kill the other?“
The slaver frowned.” Of course not, killing my own property costs money. Besides…you now know how far your soldiers would go for you when asked." He raised his whip." This is power, Lord Aziboo. Like I said, coin is strong but the mind is stronger."
A hour later both men were seated on a balcony of what once was a human villa that had been repurposed by the orcish hordes. The paintings of the human owners still hung on the walls, faded and covered in dust. Human furniture replaced by orcish rugs and pelts and torches. Previous occupants had once tried to make it a fortress, adding spikes and fortifications but once they found out the villa was built for leisure and not defence, they quickly abandoned further modifications.
Under Gorvar it regained some of it’s luster, several statues with embedded gems were on display around the grounds showing orcish warriors in battle. Most of them were of a orc with a dragon mask, the largest of which was he mounted on a dragon as he wielded a axe and screamed at all those who would oppose him.
Aziboo assumed it was the slaver trying to overcompensate his value in the world by wrapping himself in a façade of culture.
A goblin servant held out a tray with goblets of wine which Aziboo took gratefully, the weather was getting unbearably hot. And yet the orcish slave warriors were still performing drill after drill in the courtyard as vicious sergeants yelled at them. Musicians were playing in the background as to drown out the shouting as a scantly clad troll female was dancing to it, a large brown serpent crawled alongside her as she did.
“I hope you like the wine, Lord Aziboo. It’s from Wildriver Run. You’re home I recall?” Gorvar took the other goblet and raised it." To your health.“
Aziboo merely nodded and drank the wine. It tasted nice and sweet, a fruity sensation danced along his tongue. It did taste like the wine’s back home. After several hours of being in his company, the troll found the orc slaver was a shrewd businessman. Using nostalgia and theatrics to dazzle his wares…his slaves. The slaves his friend Harold desperatly needed to win the war against the Children of the Light.
“Let us talk business.” Gorvar spoke first.” Normally a regiment of orcish warriors is about 300 gold. However, because you demanded the best of the best plus a boat to carry it, I think…500."
The troll sucked on his teeth, he only had about 600 to spend. “How much does my patron get for 500?” Aziboo asked.
Gorvar took a sip from his wine before he spoke. “A regiment and a boat.”
The troll frowned." 500 is very steep, slaver."
“You asked for the best and I give you the best.” Gorvar held up his hands." If you want something cheaper I suppose I could give you some of my gobo slaves. More suited as cannon fodder rather then actual warriors…"
“No, a regiment and a ramshackle boat is not worth 500. Not by a long shot.” Aziboo frowned.
Gorvar opened his arms." Make me a offer."
Aziboo thought for a moment." I want the regiment, the boat AND two goblin regiments.“
The slaver raised his brow.” One gobo regiment and we call it at it 550."
“No, 500 or I walk.” Aziboo placed his glass down." Your choice."
The slaver smirked. “Go ahead then, walk. Not my civil war that’s at risk.“
His smirk faded when he noticed Aziboo also smirked, showing his white teeth.” Not my company that is going bankrupt.“
The orc frowned. It was true, business was stagnating now most of the orc lands were combatting or were taken over by the Blight. His slaves needed food, water, his employees needed to be paid, his villa needed to remain looking nice and opulent and he needed to have the nearby orcs chiefs and elves on payroll. The last thing he needed was some elven prince riding in on his steed with an army to stop his business. Furthermore his enemies noticed his weakness and were moving in one him and his trade routes. Despite his talk of mind over coin, he needed the latter BAD.
He swallowed his pride and smiled.” 525?“
Aziboo nodded.” Agreed.”
After the contract was signed by both parties, under supervision of a goblin Dealer, Aziboo left with his new army and transport back to Sanctuary.
Gorvar was twirling the contents of his wine glass as the troll serpent charmer rubbed his shoulders.
The goblin servants were clearing out the table in silence as the orc brooded, they knew better than to disturb their master when he was in one of his moods.
He was looking at the statue he had made to honour his ancestor and namesake, Gorvar the Dragon Rider. He was a hero of the First Blight, an orc who had lost his entire clan and family to the Immortals. Instead of throwing himself into a pyre or dying in battle, Gorvar the elder found a way to rise out of the ashes. He climbed to the nearest dragon nest and wrestled one of the wyrmkin into submission. For three days they fought until the dragon, whom the legends called Emberwing, named the orc his master. Together, rider and beast joined the orcs in battle against the Blight and did not only take his revenge but became a warchief, sired a new line of warriors and was named by the shamans as a avatar of the sun.
That was generations ago, now the old bloodline was all but spend. Only Gorvar remained, the head of a falling slaving company.
It could not end like this.
He had crawled up from slave to Overseer, he had schemed and plotted and killed to get this far. At the age of thirty summers he had come to a standstill and no amount of slave armies could change that fact.
He was of the line of Gorvar, he had dragonblood in him. This Second Blight was the perfect opportunity to rise to glory again but how…HOW?!
He inhaled deeply and caught the scent of the troll female. The smell of her sweat and scent enticed Gorvar,
It was frowned upon to lay with other races, orcs were meant to be kept pure from the other races like the sun had made them. But he didn’t care, even if he sired a trollok.
He sighed and held the hand of the serpent charmer for a moment." I will need your full services later." he said. She merely nodded and continued her ministrations.
He leaned back and tried to enjoy his wine.
“Sir?” one of his goblin servants called. A crack of a whip later the creature lay on the ground, crying as he held her eye. Everyone, even the serpent charmer, jumped in the air and stepped away.
He shouldn’t have reacted that way, but he didn’t care. He knew that most of the gobos in his household were spies for the other crime lords, including the one he just struck. It would come back to bite him in the ass, but at the moment he didn’t care.
“WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT BEING DISTURBED?!” the slaver cried out annoyed. When he did he noticed another goblin had entered the room. This one was not one of his servants. He was dressed like a pirate, a shit eating grin on his lips as he stepped over the crying servant." Lord Gorvar, I’ve come to bargain.“
Gorvar raised his brow.” Captain Lunatice…what are you doing here?“
The pirate took out a vial from his belt. Gorvar peered closer and saw the small vial had a sickly green glow around it despite it being encased in glass.
“Business, old pal.” Lunatice replied.” Your old boss still hanging around?"
The two walked down towards the wine cellar, the goblin servant from before in front holding a torch, where it was nice and cool despite the blistering heat above.
Kegs of wine were left and right of them, kept cool. But those were not the only things in there.
There was a hole in the ground where a lone figure moved in the shadows, the sound of flies buzzing around their ears. Moans and shuffling came from it, the sounds pitiful yet horrifying. As they came closer the light slowly revealed it’s occupant.
The creature was once a orc, the green skin gone gray, the smell of black death on him and the ravenous look on hunger in it’s dead eyes. Several bones and rotting body parts were strewn around the hole.
When It saw the three, it turned towards them and slowly shuffled over.
“Here he is, the late Boss Ushnotz, formerly of the Dragon Brigade.” Gorvar said." Exactly where we left him." He looked down to see his old…colleague.
The pirate goblin nodded." Good." he uncorked the vial.“Now, look at this.“
Before Gorvar could reply, Lunatice tossed the vial into the hole.
The green smoke doused the hole as the creature looked confused around itself.
The orc slaver frowned.” The hell do you thi-”
“Ushnotz of the Dragon Brigade!” Lunatice shouted." ATTEEEEN-SHUN!"
The creature froze for a moment, like a deer when it caught a scent…and then stood erect before saluting.
“Forwaaaaaaard, MARCH!” Lunatice cried and the Immortal…did.
The slaver blinked as the goblin servant gasped with disbelief as the undead orc marched around the hole, much like he did in live.
“By the sun…” Gorvar muttered." What was that stuff?“
Lunatice folded his arms.” That, my old friend…belonged to the Undying."
“The who?” Gorvar raised his brow.
“The Undying, human cult that know how to command the Blight. Me and the Rat Pack managed to capture a lot of them. Stole some of their vials, figured out how they work…they haven’t spilled the beans yet how to make it but…well, that is why I came to you.” Lunatice nodded to Gorvar, a devilish look in his eyes." You know how to break people."
The orc slaver’s mind went thousands of miles per hour. To be able to control the largest threat to Alundria, to have the dead fight for you…it would make him a hero. It would make him rich. Very powerful. On par with Gorvar the Dragon Rider.
But he kept focused." The Grand Alliance disallowed necromancy…what if they ask me how I got this research or these prisoners?"
Lunatice held up his hand nonchalantly." Tell them the truth, say you found a couple of Undying and made them tell you. Think about it, my friend. You have the way to stop the 100 years war against the Second Blight. You haven’t been outside of Oasis much or it’s to test your slaves but honestly. nearly every region of Alundria has been blighted at least once. The people life in fear, day after day. You could be a hero. You just need to find a way how to package it first."
Gorvar nodded. Quickly he picked up his goblin servant who dropped the torch as she squealed in pain.
“So can I give it commands as well?” Lunatice nodded to this. A cruel smile danced on Gorvar’s lips as he dropped the female goblin down in the hall, in the middle of the marching immortal going circles.
“Please, no!” the servant cried." Mercy! I wasn’t going to betray you my lord, I swear!"
"Tell that to the 300 gold I lost last month because of your treachery. Ushnotz, kill.“
The Immortal stopped marching and immediately lunged for the goblin female. Her death screams filled the wine cellar as the sounds of something eating messily and breaking of bone slowly took over.
But by then the two others had left the cellar and were moving upwards again towards the light.
The orc pondered.” And what does the hero need to do to get all of this?"
Lunatice smirked and gave his terms.
It was night time when he poured himself in another glass. Lunatice has left a hour previous with the arrangement made. The Rat Pack would receive a few more ships for their fleet and a safe harbour under Gorvar’s protection, plus some coin. In return he would receive the Undying the gobos had caught along with any more of the green vials they had salvaged.
It was a good deal, he trusted Lunatice. Were it not for him, he would’ve still been a slave under Ushnotz and Lunatice still a prisoner.
As he drank his wine, the cool sweet taste that slid down his throat, he looked to the statue of his ancestor.
He was perhaps not a Dragon Rider like his ancestor, but he would be just as powerful…and just as feared.
“Master…” the serpent charmer laid down on his bed, the rugs of camels covering her modesty as she winked her finger to beckon him over.
The slaver finished his drink before he went back to his bed and kissed her deeply.
Now was a good a time as any to sire a new line of warriors. Be it orc or trollok.
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Ah, poor Ushnotz. Like many, he too must have fallen to the undead at one point.
Nice story, Gorvar, I enjoyed this one the most of your saga. And your own legacy begins with this one too, I found it a most dubious choice you’d choose to be a slave driver, but now there appears to be history in the making.
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Thanks man!
I admit I like character arcs and several storylines meeting each other. Aziboo from my Cowardly Noble story and Captain Lunatice of the Goblin pirate one. It gives Alundria a bit more of a lived in feel. Deffo if you add in legends and such.
I would love to write more Gorvar chapters in the near future. Orcs and Dwarves are my fav races in most fantasy
Also thank you for reading my story man. Not many would read it.
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I was planning to do Gryphon Riders for the next one unless someone has a better suggestion?
What about the Hydras?
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…I can do that.
Hydra’s need love.
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That has to be the title
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Will try for Tuesday.
Okay so…FF15 came out.
I may or may not be addicted.
Won’t stop you guys from writing cool stuff!
The Hydra Lords
The Citadel was the oldest building in Alundria, it was here long before the six races discovered fire and it would be still here long after they were gone.
Nobody knew who build it, not even the giants who claimed to have been the first to walk Alundria’ soil. Even so, the mortal races made their home in the Citadel and the council of Grays, the most powerful magi in Alundria, made their home on the very top of the citadel.
The Citadel was a massive building, as large as a mountain, a intricate fortress carved from the very mountain itself. Rings upon defensive rings circled downward with kilometres between each gate towards the upper levels. The outside walls were very dark as it seemed to absorb the very sunlight out of the setting sun. Thousands of beings from human to elf to orc to goblin hurried along the rings with their everyday lives.
The elven pool priestess Alwina made her way downward several levels as she left her duties on the top of the Citadel, tending the ancient mana pools where all magi from Alundria drew their magic.
She flew on eagle back since going the conventional way would take days. Her lithe mount dodges other riders such as gryphons, other eagles and even the odd dragon who had their own errands to run.
With every level she descended, the people down below began wearing less heavier and warm clothing. She herself kept her scarf on until she would land at home, changing clothes in mid-flight was impractical and quite frankly quite dangerous. She herself had seen numerous riders, including her own kind, fall from their mounts toward their deaths because of that.
Alwina flew her eagle downward away from the citadel towards the smaller city that surrounded the citadel, which in turn was protected by dwarven made walls.
She flew towards one portion of the city that was near the water, flying past rooftops and statues dedicated to heroes of the past Blights and other reasons to have a statue made to them. The eagle landed near her home on the outskirts of the city, away from the hussle and bussle of the docks and markets.
Despite her high statues as a Pool priestess, she preferred the quietness of the outskirts and preferred to raise her children away from the shadow of the Citadel.
The eagle chirped happily as she patted her mount and flew away towards the forests over the walls. Alwina knew her eagle would return the next day as always, the bound between the elf and her beast was older than even that of her and her husband.
Even from the outside of her small two store house made in the elven style, green and more treelike than made out of human mortar, she could hear her husband cooking dinner, the smell of mutton hitting her nostrils. With a smile she entered her house, her lithe form barely making any noise. And yet her husband somehow knew since he spoke.
“Evening, love.” the human wizard said as he threw some spices on the meat." I was just about to put this into the oven.“
She smiled at her husband and kissed him deeply before she held him around his waist as she peered over his shoulder to look at the meal he was cooking.” One day you must tell me how you do that…"
“Well, my dear Alwina…mutton takes a lot of time to master. But I can teach you, all you need is patience and try not to be distracted by my handsome looks.” he flashed a cocky grin.
Alwina shook her head and playfully slapped his cheek." Cute. Children alright?“
Her husband nodded.” Children are fine…" his smile soured slightly." They took the news of my master’s passing a bit to…well.“
Alwina smiled sadly.” You know children, Thomas. They don’t understand death yet…and the council of greys?"
“Will decide tomorrow morning when I can see my master’s room. Let’s hope Thorgal has word of a cure soon…“Thomas sighed sadly and turned to his meal.” Dinner will be ready in a few minutes love.”
The elven priestess went to the living room where both her children played with their toys.
The two girls, toddlers both, didn’t play with dolls like most other girls but rather with wooden figures. The eldest played with dragon, the other with a cannon as they both used their toys to attack a lone hydra doll.
“Die, monster, die!” her eldest cried. “You do not belong in this world!“
The youngest cried with glee and smacked the doll aside with a fierce hand. The doll landed near Alwina’s feet and instinctively she picked it up. It was a soft, plush toy, a kinder and cuter reflection of the actual multi headed serpentine reptilian creature. The six eyes, two for each head, had big black beads and each maw had a big smile on their faces as their three necks connected into one large tail.
Her mind returned to that fatefull day in the swamp, of the majestic creature that came and all it’s glory…and all it’s horror.
This made Alwina frown.” Girls, why do you treat that poor thing so badly?”
“Mother!” both girls cried and ran to hug their mother.
She hugged both her daughters for a moment until the youngest spoke.
“Oh, the monster?” she pointed to the hydra." Because it’s a monster, mama."
“Oh, well this monster deserves a bit of love.” Alwina smiled as she held the toy for both to see." You see…this monster is the reason why your mama and papa are still alive.“
Both girls blinked, the awe in their eyes spoke of bewilderment.” Really?!" both asked.
Alwina nodded." Before your father is done with dinner let me tell you a tale." she sat down in her chair as her daughters sat on the floor. A sly grin danced on her lips. " The tale of the Hydra lords…"
A long time ago, me and your father fought against the blight in the kingdom of the Iron Crown.
We were part of a small relief force send from Sanctuary send by king Halmadir himself to aid our neighbours of Alestria. We were not with many but we we would fight like a dozen lions. Human, elf and dwarf marched as quickly as we could. We were led by a native of the region, a troll exile named Aziboo.
Aziboo led us through the swampy roads where several of the Immortals were gathering for a large scale attack on the human villages to the north. We were sworn to protect a mana pool to make sure no more undead lords would arise. With sword, axe, pistol, bow and magic we slew the undead but more and more kept coming no matter how many we had slain.
For three days we fought and only little army had grown even smaller. We all feared it was our final hour but yet our troll friend kept smiling.
The troll gave a wicked smile. “The swamp will never allow the blight to win.” he said. Your father asked what he meant to which the troll only replied with "This is THEIR swamp."
We soon saw who they were.
A large host led by a Jester King came towards us. Your father’s magic stopped them for a few hours but they passed on eventually. Our dwarven guns killed a few but not enough, same goes with arrows.
We were about to make our final prayers when our troll friend pointed to the river beside us." They are here…" he whispered.
Like a thunderclap something erupted from the river, a large head shaped like a snake with scales as blue as the sky! Lightning fast it snapped at the undead and took a big bite out of their force. Then another head showed up, and another and another…soon all six heads appeared and were devouring the undead. Except one. On that one was seated a troll female dressed in magnificent golden armour, her expression hidden by a golden mask. We only saw she was female because…well, you’ll find out when you are older. My eyes met hers only once…and to this day I have no idea what she thought of me or us outsiders for that matter. This was her swamp. This wa their swamp and nobody would take it from them. Dead or no.
As quick as they came they were gone and left only us terrified yet…in awe of these majestic creatures.
Both her daughters now looked in awe to the hydra doll.
With a smile Alwina said." So remember my girls, hydra’s deserves a bit of love to."
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Gandalf: Send in the eagles!
Aziboo: Heh. Eagles? Send in one hydra.
…
Aziboo: Say, since they’re here anyway, might those eagles use their talons as a toothpick for the hydra to get that immortal lord out of his teeth? That way they’ll be useful for something at least.
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Gandalf: It is the battle of the five armies on the lonely mountain, i will send you some giant pom pom’s so they can cheerlead from the swamp.
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