Followers

The atmosphere was quiet, only footsteps and soft breathing heard as Gorum and the Omen's Order emissaries walked through a tunnel, Gorum having to lean down due his big figure. After all, Gorum was quite large for a human, about 3 kaurt high (9 or so feet tall). Gorum wasn't always so large, he used to be about 1 and 5/6th a kaurt tall (5'6), but through many magical enhancements such as potions, boons from spirits, and various surgeries, he enlarged into a tall and lean figure with a menacing atmosphere.

Gorum contemplated quietly on what questions to ask, as he had so many. But as usual he stayed quiet, keeping even his breathing to an inaudible level. Gorum liked to be quiet, it was easier to think that way for him, as when he would begin to speak his train of thought would usually run astray and cause him to jumble his words. So quiet he stayed, silently watching over the robed figures that guided him down the tunnel. He couldn't quite put his finger on it as to why, but the people guiding him seemed happy to be in his presence, in fact, they were delighted. A gleeful pep in their step as hummed and smiled at one another, occasionally looking back at Gorum to see if he was still following them. They had to check quite often due to how silently Gorum moved, after all.

No, that last bit aside, Gorum couldn't understand why they were so...happy. All his life Gorum only ever received hateful, fearful or similar looks. No one had ever been happy Around him, even if he was their savior, those negative looks were all he received. It was too strange, especially to Gorum. As he continued to ponder, staring into space, he stopped and looked down Infront of him to see the Omen's Order emissaries all looking up at him, with a strange sparkle in their eyes.

"Uhm..?" Gorum said, puzzled.

"Master Gorum! We can see something is bothering you, and as potential members of your sect, it's our job to shoulder your worries and answer your questions! So please, voice your concerns!" said the lead woman with a strange hint of pride in her voice, the other emissaries nodding in confirmation behind her.

'Master?' thought Gorum. Shaking his head, Gorum dismissed the thought, he could ponder that later, he had a more pressing question.

"Followers of my sect?" Gorum asked, quite curious as to what the hell they mean.

The emissaries all lit up like children on a holiday, grouping together and whisperer arguing about who would get the honor of explaining to Gorum the situation. As if it meant everything in the world to them. Eventually, after a minute long debate, the lead woman stepped out again and spoke up.

"Master Gorum, every Omen has followers, admirers and such. It's only natural, after all those types of people make up most of the organization's numbers. On top of that, each Omen leads their own sect of followers, although depending on the needs of the organization, followers get transferred back and forth. But regardless, we're just happy to be in the presence of great ones, so it doesn't bother us followers at all." said the lead woman, her voice full of pride.

Gorum blinked, slowly, looking at these people full of glee and pride with infinite confusion. This was how the organization functioned? Misguided admirers of the strong just happily treading along while committing terroristic actions? He could hardly wrap his head around it, how could such seemingly kind people become so misguided in their actions and philosophies? It was simply baffling, but for now, Gorum had one more question he absolutely had to ask.

"Why...me? Of all those you could choose to admire, why me?" Gorum said, speaking his mind for once. How could he not in such a strange situation? He was one of the most despised men alive, how could he ever have followers?

Immediately, with no hesitation all 5 of the admirers answered at once.

"Because you're amazing!" they shouted, voices full of joy, eyes bright with admiration. Before Gorum knew it all of his admirers went off on their own separate tangents.

"You're an inspirational warrior Master Gorum! I don't think there's ever been a warrior of your caliber ever before! Felling so many powerful foes and even a god, taking their soul items to strengthen yourself, I can't even fathom your level! And all the soul items you must have collected over the years-" said one of the two male followers before getting interrupted by a female follower.

"It's not just about your strength, you're amazingly righteous too! I remember when I was just a little girl, you destroyed the bandits attacking my village in a lightspeed fashion! All the other kids were scared, but I could only quiver in amazement. It was beautiful, such a powerful and important person went out of their way to save my tiny village when even the governing lords army refused to help us simply because they deemed us unimportant!" she said, her hands clasped together, looking up at the ceiling whilst she relived the memory in her head.

"Not to mention you're simply an amazing man on your own! All your strength and righteous deeds aside, you're a man of principle! Following your ideals and the will of the people, even though those you've pledged loyalty to dare to reject you so much-" said the lead woman, clenching her fists and mumbling angrily at the end of her speech.

"I-I think you're amazing as well, particularly your looks...You're so cool! That smokey gray armor with the blood stains of your enemies, your imposing figure, the way you fight with all the strength in your body-" said the second male follower, seeming to be the youngest of the group.

'What the hell is with these strange people?' Gorum thought to himself, blushing slightly beneath his helmet as he silently watched his followers gush and chatter to each other, continuously singing his praises.