Topics

Vilirok had visited many a hamlet like this one on his journeys over the past few years. The village was simple enough - twenty or so small huts arranged around a couple of larger buildings, with small plots of farmland shared between the villagers in order to feed themselves. The orc very much doubted the villagers were able to do much other than feed themselves off of the poor farmland, and noted he saw very few such villagers around - it may have been late, but he still would have expected the farmers to at least still be finishing up their day's work. He didn't ponder for too long as he made his way to one of the larger buildings at the centre of town. From the warm light emanating from the building, as well as the boisterous laughter, he guessed this was the local tavern and, with any luck, they'd have a common room he could spend the night in.

As he made his way to the structure he noted the looks he was given - those few orcs he saw seemed wary, even afraid, at his presence - but paid them little heed. Entering the tavern, most ignored him as they spent their evening enjoying themselves but the leery looks persisted, he made straight for the bar where he inquired as to whether he could stay the night.

"Aye, y' can stay here when these lot 'ave cleared out. Help me clean up and I'll let y' stay for free - not like it'd be costing me anything." The barkeep paused, "Suggest y' not go exploring. People 'round here won't hurt y' or nothin' but we've had trouble with your sort."

Vilirok raised an eyebrow, "My sort?".

"Strangers with big axes. Couple years past somethin'...tragic...happened. Not been the same 'ere since." He frowned, "Y' seem friendly enough, mind! People just not as quick to trust these days."

The shaman nodded, "I won't be causing any trouble. There be anywhere I can leave my pack for the time being?".

"Aye, leave it with me and I'll put it in the back room." As Vilirok handed his things to the orc he paused, "Eh...s'ppose I should warn y' lest y' get a fright. Though lookin' at y' I don't imagine y' would..."

The shaman looked at the tavern-keep intently, "Yes, what is it?".

The other orc looked almost embarrassed, "People been talkin' about strange noises lately in the old Wastetamer Farm. Best avoid the place."

Vilirok smirked, "I'll be sure to do that."

The barkeep, having delivered his warning, nodded firmly. The two spent some time speaking, during which Vilirok learned the incident leading to the village's distrust of outsiders was a visit by a squadron of Kor'kron while Hellscream was still Warchief. They had demanded food from every farmer and those unable to give anything for fear of starvation were publicly flogged for their 'defiance' and their meagre crops taken regardless.

After learning the lay of the land, it was arranged that they would meet again once the tavern was less busy and Vilirok had bought any supplies he could manage to find at the local trader.

The shaman, though, felt for the people of the village. He was no stranger to the cruelty of the Kor'kron - it was his own intention to right the wrongs Hellscream had wrought. He spent a time looking around the village, noting with a frown the apprehension of those he saw as he did so. Who could blame them for fearing armed strangers? And yet, he wondered. It had been over three years since the fall of Hellscream. Perhaps these strange noises emanating from Wastetamer Farm were heightening tensions. The orc stopped for a moment to think. The village had suffered enough, and though it was normally the spirits Hellscream had tormented he dealt with, he resolved that all of his victims must be assuaged.

He looked back at the tavern, as busy as ever, and resolved he still had a fair amount of time before he needed to return to assist the barkeep. Vilirok turned and began to make his way toward Wastetamer Farm.

Vilirok wasn't able to sleep. His mat, which was his bed for the weeks he'd been here felt harder and less comfortable than it had been in a while. His hair was growing whiter by the day, since he'd woken up he'd noticed another few strands turning into the colour of snow. The fel's happening t'  me?, he thought to him self, First the dreams and now this. For weeks now, Vilirok had been having the same recurring dreams, his mother and sister, his killing of them and the shaman-king telling him that the relic was connected to the past. The past. Who's past, mine? The tribe's? The world's itself?, nothing made sense. And then, his mother and sister would come at him, screaming, daggers in hand. At the end of each dream more hair than usual would be white. And then he started talking to himself, his eyes glazed over and female voice came out of his mouth.

"Vilirok, you know it wasn't your fault what you did to us, we know it now too. The human would have thought you'd never make peace with yourself. Don't let that beast be right." Vilirok returned to himself, My mother...but she...I need t'  stop drinkin' before I go t' sleep. But he knew that this wasn't simply caused by excessive drinking, this didn't happen to people. Besides very few. He pulled some furs over himself and eventually went back to sleep.

The dream came differently this time, he was looking at himself and his mother. Vilirok was seeing through the eyes of his sister, and watching the event that had shaken him to the core, the event that he saw every night since the day itself. Vilirok was in an internment camp, his sister and mother kept in different cages to him. He saw himself talking to a tall human boy, no older than twenty years of age. The human spoke to him, and although his mother and sister didn't know what was being said, he did. Vilirok was being told to kill his family, the only people he had left. At first, he obviously objected, knowing he would get beatings and torture, but knowing that he would save his family. The human obviously knew he'd resist torture and even die trying to protects his loved ones, so he made the deal worse. If Vilirok did not kill his family, they would still die. They would be tortured ever so slowly until eventually, their bodies broke. Vilirok had to kill them himself, or else they would be killed in the worst way imaginable. And, for the boy's ever increasing amusement, he also told Vilirok that he could not tell his mother and sister why he was killing them. Otherwise, he would make sure his priests would bring them back from the brink of death and torture them endlessly. And so, Vilirok with no other choice had to murder his own mother and sister. Vilirok, from his place behind his sister's eyes watched as he was allowed into his family's cell. The two she-orcs cried tears of joy but all too soon it was over, as they saw Vilirok with the knife, moving towards them. A look of terror and hatred was spread across their cold, dead faces. Vilirok looked back and saw the human laughing, locking him in with the dead bodies.

The dream then shifted as it always did, Vilirok saw Mruthgor the shaman-king. Again, he said that the relic of the shaman-king was connected with the past, but it in itself wasn't. The powers that it held were connected to certain people and their pasts. This was a new part of the dream to Vilirok, he asked Mruthgor what kinds of people and all he heard was that it was those who 'walked with the spirits'. And suddenly, it dawned on Vilirok.

He woke up screaming.

((Well, it's my first piece of writing on the sit, hope you all like it. also, he woke up screaming in Mar'at, so others might have heard him if you want to))

Hey everybody! I was trying to think of a story for Vilirok which would develop into his being able to summon two spirit wolves for a short time every once in a while, to tie in with the Shaman spell.

Anyway, I was thinking about it and I had the idea to have this competition in which I could see all your ideas for a back-story for it and give a reward to the person I think did the best. Plus, I'll be using the winner's story in a small string of events some time in the future. So here are the guidelines:

• The story should be able to fit into any scenario. I.E, it could happen in a desert or in the middle or Northrend just as well
• It should involve Vilirok (For obvious reasons)
• Serious names for the wolves must be given. You must give names.
• I AM willing to roll a new class (probably hunter) if need be
• The story needs to be at least 200 words long. (I'm willing to change this if it's necessary) Maximum:1000 words
• It needs to involve unnamed and unnumbered people so that it can be made into events
• A maximum of one character you make up yourself to be added
• A prize of 1000 gold will go to the winner
• If the best names ARE NOT part of the best story, you will still receive a prize. 500 gold
• If the best names ARE part of the best story, you will receive 500 gold extra
• The story is due in a month's time. By midnight on 6/08/2012

Post stories and stories alone on this page. Any questions need to be in a PM to me and if I think everyone needs to know the answer to the question I will post the question and answer to this page. I will not be posting any stories so posts I make will only be things such as announcements or Qs&As.

Thanks for reading and get thinking! 

The subject makes this pretty obvious. Post your favourite books and or series of books her.

My favourite series is probably: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel.