Wildstar Fanfiction – #02 Being Granok | Uber Peterbus

The second episode of Wildstar Fanfiction about the Granok culture.
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Here is the transcript for the video. I’ve highlighted the phrases that are not part of the official Wildstar lore (yet, *hrhr*). Thank you for watching and listening! 🙂

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There has always been war amongst the nations of the Granok. We did not know anything beyond the Grekk T’kar, the Gnox, as you call it. Even when we first travelled beyond the sky and reached the three moons, the everlasting guardians of sea, wind and rock, we were ignorant to what lay beyond. We dared to look upon the stars, venture with seeing eyes to the fringes of galaxies. Yet we were blind.

War was never fought for the reasons others chose. Our ancient and holy struggles ground the weak to dust and smooth the surface of those worthy to follow in the footsteps of Gnox itself. Only by clashing into each others like the mighty planets through the universe do, do we shape our form. Through hardening, melting and absorbing others, can we be like the giant we call our home.

Since I left with those that came before me and having met a lot of the other races, it became clear to me, that our ways seem queer to them. They would never fight simply to fight. They need a reason beyond hardening themselves. They choose freedom, beauty, truth and love above anything else. They don’t understand why the Granok, for as long as we could remember, have fought each other. Never did our borders change. There was no alliance to end it all, but the great council to see it continue.

Never was there hate between the Granok. We did not envy our brothers and sisters, nor did we want to see them suffer. When a Granok kills, it is quick and clean. We do not mock our enemy or underestimate his ability and value. To us, everything that strives for improvement, for hardening, is sacred.

There is confusion among our new allies about why those that ultimately saved our people were exiled. Part of it, has already been told, but to fully understand, you need to understand the graveness of the offence that was committed.

Our way to fight, to wage war does not know injuries. There is no suffering, no broken veterans and no grief. Those that die, die for the benefit of all. It improves us. It makes us stronger. No Granok was ever killed without the chance to defend him–or herself–in combat. There is no deceit between our nations, no crimes of war. Our weaponry, our arms and armour and our techniques are a testament to this. We fight, kill or get killed. We do not wound or cripple our opponent. Our weapons are incapable of inflicting such injuries. Defeat is Death.

When the Dominion came, our nations, for the first time in living history, united in battle. What had only been done in ways of research or charitable work was now reality for the very core of what it means to be Granok. By standing together against an overwhelming foe we did what we were made for. This was our destiny. Grind the enemy to dust or be ground into the sands ourselves. We fought valiantly. We fought bravely. But we lost almost every battle. It was exhilarating, if you can trust those who were there and lived to tell the tale. The Granok species had met it’s match and the great Sandstorm Brekroar that should eat us all was about to take what was rightfully his. We should not have survived the onslaught of the superior Dominion.

Yet… We did.

But it was not part of us that saved us. It was alien technology. Technology designed to hurt and maim the enemy. It was and is a harsh reality of the off-worlders wars, that an injured and broken foe is preferred above a dead one. You see, taking care of the wounded costs resources and destroys the morale of those left behind. Seeing the horrors of what war meant for the Dominion left only two choices. Follow our sacred path and be annihilated, or deviate and become tainted but save everything. By taking the weaponry of our foe we lost what was sacred to and within us. By fighting to win, to survive and not to grow stronger, we gave up what made us Granok. We cheated our race of its destiny.

In the end our people did not exile their own. We were no longer Granok by heart but only by appearance. There is nothing that can change that. Some gave up on our ways altogether and started adopting to our new brethren. They do not share the views of those who are like me. I choose to follow our sacred ways. I choose to honour who and what I am to one day once more become truly Granok.

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