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Chapter 2 by Vain Vain

What form do you will into existence for yourself?

Ogre

The mucky water of the dark lord's spawning pool boils and bubbles as you feel your body slowly taking shape underneath the surface. Muscle and sinews forms around a massive skeleton, and you can feel your flesh, organs and skin being melded onto your heavy frame, until you're ready to burst out of the pool to take your very first breath of the cool air above.

Even as you rise from the frothing water you can feel the last parts of your new form settling into place, and as your eyes look down upon yourself you're pleased to see that your body will fit the role well for what you believe it was intended. Something still seem to be missing however, but you firmly decide that any such trivial matters could wait until later.

Right now there is something else on your mind however, as you glance around the large chamber where you were born, and you find yourself staring down at two figures standing by the brink of the pool. One is wearing a massive suit of black armor, with a horned helmet concealing his visage, but just one look from those glowing red eyes you can see through the slits makes you quickly understand that him alone in this world could have the power to create a living creature like yourself, from nothing but sludge and his own, indomitable will.

Beside him stands another indescribable figure, dressed in heavy robes, and with little more than glowing red orbs glaring out of it's hood at your intimidating figure. If it was alone you'd think it would probably shrink back in fear before you, but with it's Master by it's side it merely regards with mild curiosity.

"An Ogre...?" The latter of them speaks, in a voice that is every bit as unidentifiable as the rest of it's appearance. You think that it may be male, though it's very difficult to tell, and you really couldn't care too much about it either. All you do care about for the moment is the fact that your belly gives away a low rumbling, as you feel your hunger growing for every moment you spend outside of your birthing pool.

"Food...?!" You growl your very first word in this world, with your rumbling voice echoing back from the stone walls around you, and it seems to be one of the few in your rather limited vocabulary. "Food, where...?!"

"It doesn't seem very clever." The hooded figure continues, with something you believe could pass for disappointment, or even frustration in it's nearly static voice. "Are you sure this is the one, my Lord?"

"I gave it the free will to take it's own shape." States the Dark Lord, and you think you can hear just a bit of amusement to his voice while he takes a step forwards to look at you closer. He's clearly much taller than any ordinary man, but still you tower both head and shoulders above him. "And perhaps it did not see the need for a brain, when I could do all the thinking for it...?"

"Food...?" You repeat once again, as you're growing tired of these games, and you feel that your stomach is already doing all the thinking for you.

With your large hand you grasp for a nearby wooden log, which seems to have been left by the side of the pool for no apparent reason, and wield it like a club when you turn your attention back to the figures watching you from the poolside. You may not wear any armor aside from a loincloth tied to your waist, or be able to cast any spells, but you're a large ogre male and you're currently almost hungry enough to challenge the gods themselves, and feast on their bloody remains...!

But what about your instincts for your own survival...?

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