Location: Quagmire
IC: As soon as the axe hit the armour, the purple clouds disappeared. The armour was unscathed, but the Orc that was once in it was gone. A voice sounded- once again, it sounded like Gore's father, but this time, it was Vaernima. "Though this armour is not your reward for facing your fears, it is my gift to you. Your heritage. Your reward is this axe." The tribal steel battleaxe started glowing with unlight. "Retrieve it if you wish and leave this realm, or search for your friends and help them in their quest."
Gore stopped in swing, his axe a centimeter from the armor, which was now empty and hovering in the air. Gore looked at the armor, and a softness came to his face. Putting his two axes at his sides he reached up, eagerly grasping the Orcish helm and removing it from it's place. For a few minutes he simply stared at it in disbelief, and then he put it on his head.
Forever he would be Gore, now, as the nickname had stuck to his mind and his reputation, but now he could proudly proclaim he was Gore Hal'kek. He lifted the angered, snarling orcish facemask up, as he reached for the shield as well. It was a special kind of shield, not like the others but forged in a rectangle. It was also somewhat small for a shield, but that was it's purpose. Gore removed it and strapped it onto his forearm, the other section of the shield attaching to his forearm just below the elbow. It was meant to protect his flank even if he wielded two-handed weapons.
And then he reached out for the Battle Axe, a smile of content on his face. "Gore leave magic-realm. Gore go home."