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Added new art by ShadowPriest

Updated personality and added history.

History will be used as a quick recap of Razaron's past rather then having to read all his stories.

Beyond and Back

The sky had ripped open over Northrend and the Shadowlands began to bleed in to Azeroth, if things weren’t bad enough the clan’s patron spirits were in grave peril! The Red Blades gathered in a circle in the dark reaches of Icecrown at Sindragosa’s Fall, they planned to aid them in the lands beyond. Enrah, a death walker was casting a ritual and only with the necromantic powers of someone so skilled would they be able traverse to the other side! Varog’Gor Razaron Madeye was there standing side by side with his fellow orcs but soon he knew one way or another he wouldn’t be! Well, that would depend if his chaotic scheme would work? He had planned for this day since his first death in Nazmir, he saw glimpses of a darkness that he couldn’t possibly fathom but it was enough to scare the Varog’Gor in to making contingency plans. One year previous the Red Blades had aided him in a trip across the desolate wastes of Hellfire Peninsula, he promised them the reward for helping him would be an item of great of importance, in the end he acquired a stick and jar with an eye in it. Needless to say some of the orcs weren’t best pleased they had risked their lives for such sentimental trinkets that offered no meaningful value, but Madeye knew they were more than that just mere trinkets.

Razaron had dressed for the weather in Northrend, he hated it! He despised wearing heavy furs and thick armor, not only did he feel less close to the elements but they negated his movement. How could he possibly dance in all this claptrap? But he had to wear it, they were in Northrend after all and if he didn’t wear it he would be more than close to the elements, he’d be frozen to the core! Madeye did ponder the idea of asking the spirits of fire for the gift of flame again, last time however it nearly ended up in their zeppelin journey finishing in a fiery ball of death. Publicly he still blamed Nakobu for the incident when inside he knew it was his fault, well he was Varog’Gor was he not? He couldn’t been seen to be the one who caused such uproar, what would it do for the structure of the clan? He grunted, a sly smirk appeared on his face. It didn’t last long, the ritual was complete and it was time.

One after another the orcs stepped through the gateway and now it was Razaron’s turn, he grasped the trinkets under his fur cloak that he acquired in Hellfire. One was a jar with the eye of his father inside, Gorgush. The other was not just a stick, it was the staff of his grandmother, the Matron Razara. Razaron closed his eyes and walked through the gateway, his body twisted about, portal magic had become more commonplace in Azeroth but it still wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences. He’d much prefer his wolf, hell, even a boat and that’s saying something for a Red Blade. He felt the presence of his clan mates disappearing away, something was pulling him in? What was it? Was it the darkness he felt before or was it what he hoped? It all went black! Razaron eyes opened, he was on the floor of a grassy plain. Mulgore? Nagrand? He thought to himself, he looked around some more, no this was something different! As got to his feet he overheard a familiar voice. “You made it, well you took your time!” It was his grandmother! He had made it through the dark beyond to his ancestral plain!

Days turned in to weeks, weeks then turned in to months. Razaron spent this time catching up with his grandmother, helping other fellow orcs in the endless hunt and dancing with them till the late hours of the day. It was a simple tribal life, like the times before the Dark Portal. He had longed for such days without the endless misery life could bring with it and Razara could see he was getting too comfortable. “Razaron..” She said bluntly, Madeye looked up at his grandmother, he was preparing for yet another hunt. “We all thank you for your help but you know you don’t belong here?” Razaron changed the subject, “What happened to my mother and father, are they here?” he replied continuing with his work. “They are around but it’s not time for that reunion yet cub, now LISTEN to ME!” She scolded as Madeye shot up straight, her words still had an effect on him. “This place, this world, you don’t belong here! You must honour your word, you must go back to your clan!” Razaron sighed, “But, this is all I ever wanted! I’m fed up of the grief and mourning I now have in life..” Razara shook her head, “Grief is but one of the prices we pay for love young one!” She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “It’s not your time, you’ve seen your first death, now go live your second life!” Madeye welled up, he looked up at his grandmother, “I don’t want to go..” He said, he knew she was right. The Matron was one of the wisest and most loved orcs Razaron had ever known, “..I will return..” He said. “I know you will but hopefully not for a long time yet!” She smirked as Razaron smirked back, their smirks soon turned in to laughter.

The Brokers, a humanoid race of energy beings that harbor a interest through many of the realms of the Shadowlands had struck a deal with Razara, they would safe passage Madeye to Oribos. He would find his way back home to his other family in the living and uphold his oath.

 

Updated and added new art.

The Lost Ones

Many years had passed since the meeting of Pavon and Razaron in the Swamp of Sorrows and the world around them had changed. The first and second wars on Azeroth had both ended and the Horde had been rounded up and captured. Rumours circulated that the Bleeding Hollow clan had avoided capture from the Alliance and retreated through the dark portal and the land around the monstrous structure had dried up and died. It was once a vibrant part of the Black Morass but not anymore, now it was known as the Blasted Lands. Razaron had heard the tales of his clan but he didn't want anything to do with them, not as they were, the only thing that mattered to him now was to live a life free from the fel. Pavon was a dear friend to Razaron and educated him on the matters of the fel, now he knew the name of the poison that took his father and his people to their darkest hour. Razaron and the rest of the Broken were also on good terms, their relationship was mostly based around trade. He would bring the Harborage exotic ingredients and potions, being a Bleeding Hollow it was common for orcs of his clan to be versed in herbalism and alchemy. In return Razaron would always pick out the same thing, a beautiful bottle of draenic wine. The broken had offered him some for the first time years ago and since then he had been hooked, for Razaron it wasn't just the taste but the overwhelming sensation of peace that came with drinking it.

Razaron had just finished exchanging supplies with the broken and sat down next to Pavon who was warming himself by a burning fire, "Wine again child? Careful you'll become addicted!" Pavon chuckled twirling his stubbly fingers through his tentacled like beard. Razaron was already drinking his prize, "What can I say? I've never tasted something so good!" As he patted Pavon on the shoulder before staring in to the fire. Razaron was thinking of home and his people, often they would gather around a great fire and socialize. It was an area of great importance to his clan, retelling tales of the past, celebrating great kills or just being together as a family. Now they were gone, only Neska to keep him company and a alien race of Broken to talk too. "You look lost Razaron the Insane, what troubles you?" Pavon said concerned about his friend. "Lost? I suppose you're right. I am new to this world and I’ve struggled to adapt without my clan." Razaron replied as he flicked some dirt in to the fire from under his long nails. "You're not entirely lost, just look at my kin? We are broken and lost contact with the light. But through our mutation  we survive!" Razaron looked confused, "The Light? You mean the sun?" Pavon shook his head, "No child, the light resides in every living being, in every heart and soul, even yours!" Pavon pointing towards Razaron's chest continuing, "It binds us together as one! Even after what your people did to mine I did not strike you down, do you know why?" Razaron looked a little puzzled. "Because you were different, the light never spoke to me but I saw a beacon of hope in you and hope is all we have!" Pavon paused and threw another log on to the fire then gestured in to a darker area of the swamp, "But over there in to the darkness are some of my kin that are entirely lost. We call them the Lost Ones, they have devolved in to nothing but primitive creatures." Pavon then stared in to his friends eyes, "You are not fully lost my friend, not like them. Be encouraged by that thought!" Razaron nodded and sat up a little taller, Pavon had ignited a small flame in his heart.

The night drew on as more Broken joined Pavon and Razaron by the fire, "So, people having been telling me stories Razaron." A smirk raised on Pavon’s face, Razaron looked around the fire and all the broken were staring at him. "Stories?" Razaron replied. "Yes, they've seen you in the swamp! They're intrigued at how you go about hunting your prey!" Pavon lent forward, his hand to his chin. "They tell me that your form is like nothing they have ever seen before!" Razaron gulped a little, "You've been spying on me?" Pavon shook his head with a laugh, "A strange orc that dwells in our swamp and hunts near the Harborage, of course we have!" Retorted Pavon who was now nodding. Razaron immediately got defensive, "Zug, I have my own methods, I learned many moons ago of a unique style of fighting from my grandmother, the Matron. I'm not ashamed of.." Razaron was interrupted, "Do not think I'm mocking you child, we're all amazed at your prowess!" The Broken all started to nod in unison agreeing. "In fact those that haven't witnessed your dancing don't believe it to be true!" Pavon said poking Razaron with his stave. "Then I will prove the doubters wrong!" Replied Razaron jumping to his feet! That night Razaron and the broken would be merry and dance to the early hours of the morning.

[Raza-Round Trip]

Raza-Round Trip
23rd March 2020

The orcs of the Red Blade continued their journey to Garadar, for once they refused the easy, quick and not always reliable way, that being portal magic. For now they made their camp at Thrallmar, a orc base founded by Nazgrel and named after the former Warchief, Thrall. A horn blew, it’s sound reverberated around the Thrallmar buildings and broken hellish earth. It was Razaron Madeye, he was calling to the clan from the stables, he explained to the orcs that arrived that he needed their aid in dispelling three sigils he had made before the sundering. He didn’t know if they still existed but if they did, the reward would be an item of great importance! Tagrok automatically assumed his prize was going to be alcohol but Madeye shook his head, this was something unique!

As the orcs left the safety of Thrallmar the landscape of the Hellfire Peninsula revealed itself to them once more, this domain used to be called the Tanaan Jungle, now it was a dusty broken hellhole. Years ago the Bleeding Hollow clan called this place home, it was a complete shadow of it’s former self! The winds from the Twisting Nether blew at the orcs a top their furry wolves, they didn’t know where they were going, Madeye didn’t really know where he was going either, he had a hunch and that hunch was leading them to all three sigils. The Red Blade clan rode past many broken siege weapons, they hadn’t been used in years but there everlasting presence reminded the orcs of the battles that once unfolded here.

Razaron decided the best way to the first sigil was to take the clan across the bridge of at the Hellfire Citadel, the fortress had seen better days but it’s presence still dominated the peninsula. As they crossed steel framed bridge the orcs looked down at the Path of Glory, somber thoughts filled the orcs minds about what took place decades before. Suddenly they were caught off guard, fel orcs that were withered and phantom like attacked them but it was short lived! Urzoga and Karnna had the presence of mind to scout out the citadel and ambushed the ambushers! The fel orcs were defeated before they even got to attack, strangely their bodies disappearing in to dust, what were they? Madeye didn’t wait to hang around and ask questions, they quickly made their way off the Hellfire Citadel.

They had reached the other side of the valley and Honor Hold glimpsed in to view, the Alliance had made a fort here during the second war, they called themselves the Sons of Lothar. To this day some of the Sons of Lothar still called this home but Madeye knew this land and the hold was built on a old vault that contained the first sigil. They skirted around a hill that had a tower on top and spotted a mine shaft. He knew it was in there but there was a problem, a big problem, two guards whose lofty size would’ve of made a Kul Tiran feel thin. Both of these guards guarded the entrance to the mine and there was much debate about how to deal with them. Nakobu and Skint worried the clan could cause a diplomatic incident if they showed lethal force, the fourth war had only just ended and if they killed them and were found, it would stir up problems for the Horde. It was decided they’d just knock the guards out, Karnna was first and with ease gave the one guard a clubbing to the back of the head. Zi’tani however used the elements to her advantage and also knocked out the other guard, everyone rushed over and they tied the guards up in the mine out of sight!

The mine had seen much better days, the earth crumbled to the floor, it was a miracle it was still intact. There were no miners working inside and eventually they were lead to a opening, Madeye sprinted forwards declaring this was it! The first sigil was in the floor but to break it he’d need the help of the orcs, he separated them in to two groups and gave each group key words to say. Madeye began chanting in a strange language, some may have caught on it was of blood magic dialect. As the ritual continued colours poured out of Madeye, each group had to say their words at the right colours or the ritual would fizzle out. Luckily the orcs were very good with their colours and with a Hoo, Lii, Vuk, the ritual was completed and the first sigil had been removed! Madeye hastily rushed them out of the mine and out of sight of the alliance forces as they traveled urgently to the next sigil.

The Red Blade clan had arrived at the corrupted Pools of Aggonar, the pit lords humongous carcass was still very visible. Long ago the pools were a holy place that was sacred to the Draenei, now they had been warped and twisted by the blood of Aggonar. They debated how to cross the fel infected mess, Nakobu was clearly struggling with sickness but with the help of Skint, together they gave the orcs a blessing that made them levitate off the ground. This was enough to get past all blistering oozes that hid inside the pools. Madeye stopped before a monstrous fel structure, informing the orcs that once there was a cave here that led to the most hallowed ritual site of the Bleeding Hollow clan, and that ritual site contained the Vault of Eyes. Razaron had placed his second sigil here, he climbed the structure and found the sigil spot, but he didn’t let the other orcs know. First he wanted to test the orcs in obedience, he lied to them, informing them he needed them all to run around in circles and that would cause friction to the structure that would allow him to locate the sigil. In actual fact Madeye had already found it and he just wanted to see the orcs run around like lemmings. After a few moments the second had be dispelled and the orcs moved on to the third and final sigil.

They traveled west and Draenei structures came in to view, Razaron shook his head and pointed to the east of the buildings. There was a small rising path alongside the hill, that’s where they were headed. As they climbed the path a Mag’har came in to view, Madeye ordered the orcs off their wolves and proceeded to tell them to be respectful. The last sigil was in the Mag’har grounds that was once the location of the a Bleeding Hollow village called Zeth’Gol. Razaron continued stating they’d need to find clues to where the last sigil was located, he then proceeded to order Gul’rok to speak to the Mag’har elder that stood before them, the elder was named Nasrak and greeted the orcs happily. Gul’rok had quite the silver tongue and it wasn’t long before the Red Blade clan were allowed in to the grounds under a condition that they didn’t enter the Mag’har Post. This however didn’t stop Karnna who successfully sneaked her way inside, past the guards and picked a locked chest. The chest contained two scrolls, the first had some rather raw drawings of a naked orc, the second however spoke of a corruption in the land beyond the northern most building.

As Karnna was sneaking about, Zasa, Zi’tani and Skint all spoke to two Stones of Prophecy. The stones gave further clues that the location was to the north and then north-east and that the location was where the one called the Insane killed a Ry’lak in their first Om’riggor. This was obviously Razaron and he had already known that was the spot, he deliberately placed the sigil there! But years after the sundering of Draenor the world had been mangled and destroyed in all sorts of chaotic ways, it was impossible to tell where it now was. Ordok had made a friend at the center of the grounds, he was dueling with a Mag’har brute and after a long display of combat prowess the brute, out of sheer chance let on about a corrupted path that lead to no where. With all the clues combined the Red Blade clan ventured past the northern most building, going north to north-east that ended in a path leading to no where! Madeye informed them that this was it and proceeded to speak in the same language as before, chanting to dispel the sigil and within a few seconds the sound of the final sigil being removed echoed around the area. The last sigil has conjured a chest in front of Madeye, he had finally got his prize! He rushed over to open it and when he did he reached inside and picked up two objects and held them aloft. In one hand was a staff and in the other was a jar with a eye in it! Razaron explained these items had sentimental value to him, the staff being a good stick and the jar with a eye in it being his fathers own eye.

Some orcs felt the urge to push the Varog’Gor in to the endless void where the Devouring Sea use to be, but Kogra agreed that having a good staff was important. Razaron finally led the clan back to Elder Nasrak, telling him of the corruption they had cleansed in their lands. Elder Nasrak didn’t know it was Madeye’s sigil but he thanked them and offered them all furs for the night, which the clan accepted gratefully. It had been a Raza-round trip alright!

New Friendships

Razaron was surprised at how deft the broken was at getting through the swamp, he did it with the speed and grace of a great feline cat. “You move well for someone of your deformity drean..” Razaron was interrupted, “I am draenei no longer young orc, we are the broken.” Razaron raised a brow wondering why he would no longer take the name of his race, the deformed draenei must of had some deep reservations about his kin. “Back in Argus there was a time where we practiced the Jed’hin, a ritualistic combat. It would train the dreanei in the art of physical combat, only those with dexterous determination would win. Generations since those times perhaps some has stayed along our lineage young orc.” The broken quipped demonstrating as he acrobatically lifted himself in the air, twisting his body as he span through two arching tree trunks narrowly getting through the tightest of gaps. “Very impressive, it sounds like something similar to what my grandmother taught me, that too was a form of fighting that my bloodline knew, drea.. sorry broken..” Again Razaron was quickly interrupted as the broken stopped and turned around and faced his new traveling companion. “My name is Pavon and you?” Razaron gulped, “I am Razaron.. the Insane.”

“The Insane?” Pavon’s eyes narrowed on the orc, he then proceeded to circle Razaron looking him up and down. Neska started to growl unsure off the broken draenei’s intentions. Pavon held out his hand in front of Razaron’s face, his palm opened and stubby fingers stretched out. “Krokul? No! You are not broken child. I am not educated in orcish naming but who would give you such a name?” Razaron’s gaze plummeted to the floor as Neska rushed over to stroke herself on his green orcish hand. “My father.. My father did.” His gaze now rose to match that of Pavon. “But it wasn’t his fault! It was the demons! The Fel the..” For the third time Razaron was interrupted. “Not his fault was it? Was he forced to drink the demon’s blood?” Razaron stumbled with his words, “Yes.. No, he was made to! Wasn’t he?” Pavon face smirked as he twirled his stocky finger through his tentacle like beard. “Child, he must take responsibility for his actions or be chained to them forever.” Razaron spoke up, “But he can’t.” Pavon’s brow was now raised as he instantly replied, “He can’t?” the young orc let out a long sigh, “No, he is dead. I was there, the trolls of Stranglethorn Vale. They ambushed us, we barely survived the onslaught. After I lost him I lost all that held me to the Horde. My life is my own now Pavon.” Pavon nodded a few times and turned around and continued to run through the swamp, “Come along Razaron the Insane, I need to show you something.” Razaron looked at Neska for reassurance and then with a gulp followed Pavon through the vast swampland.   

Pavon pushes past the last few branches of a warped tree and stopped, he’s was now standing in a open field, “Welcome my young friend, welcome to the Harborage!” Images raced through Razaron’s mind, he had heard countless stories in his childhood about how the draenei’s building’s were curved in design, round arching buildings, impossible structures that orcish builders could only dream of making. As he quickly moved past Pavon and entered the open plain he was left disappointed, all that stood there were some very crude wooden huts with some spikes darted around the perimeter to deter intruders, “You were expecting more Razaron the Insane? I can see it on your face! I tell you again we are no longer draenei, we survive on this world out of determination...” Pavon’s eyes narrowed, poking Razaron in the shoulder and finishing with just three more words, “..just like You!” He was right, Razaron was a survivor, all he had was Neska and even then he didn’t understand how she came to be. Pavon looked across at Razaron’s female friend putting a hand on her back, “You should take better care of her Razaron, I fear she’s all you have now.” Razaron turned to look at Neska, her emerald green eyes would light up the darkest room but Razaron was confused, why had this broken one led him here to his home? Razaron asked that exact question, “Pavon, why have you led me here, after all we did to your kind? This is your home!” Pavon nodded, he understood why Razaron was confused, it was time he told the young orc why he had asked him to join him on his journey. “The spirits tell me of your struggles child, they do not forgive you, not easily and not any time soon! But they see something in you, I see something in you. Something more then just a lost orc surviving in a swamp. Razaron the Insane, come along we have much to discuss!” 

[Part 2: Mogu Knows All]

Part 2: Mogu Knows All
20th October 2019

The orcs of the Red Blade have had a troubled week on these islands of madness. The Banana King had ordered his hozen to repair the Sea Cucumber and repaired it nearly had. But the evil that lurked on the island still remained and for them to make it safely back to Kalimidor they would have to confront it!

After a discussion on what to do, Varog’Gor Vraxxar Wildmark ordered the Banana King to lead the clan across to the northern islands. Along the way they walked past the royal hozen guards protecting a cave entrance, the guards wore fancy hozen attire with bananas decorated in to their armor. The Banana King told the orcs that they were guarding the royal banana supply. The orcs led by the Banana King crossed the shallow waters to the opposite islands as a small Panderen fishing village came in to view, though it was not all that it seemed. The pandaren completely ignored the orcs, this wasn’t them being rude. The Red Blade clan could sense the dark magic that had infested their minds, Tagrok went ahead and inspected one of the pandaren. Perhaps he got a little too close as in unison the pandaren stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to him. All of them, every single pandaren, the entire colony were now staring at Tagrok. Tagrok wisely stepped back, his hands on his weapon just in case. The Banana King urged the clan forwards, the pandaren weren’t the evil on this island, they were victims.

As the orcs crossed through the shallow waters to the next island the water turned red. The fresh salty sea disappeared and the smell of blood filled their nostrils, more illusions were played on the clan. These constant mind games were taking their toll on them, thankfully the water changed back as the orcs proceeded onward. Corpses, hundred of corpses of a bask of crocolisk lay everywhere! The blood from these bodies trickles down in to the sea. Was this another illusion? It was not. The dark magic that had taken hold of the island had no limits. One surviving crocolisk had torn another crocolisk apart in front of the orcs, he would easily be three times the size of a normal one. The strangers on the beach had not gone unnoticed by the giant croc, he slowly starts to walk towards the clan. The crocolisk started to charge Krumoth, snapping at his legs with his huge bite. Krumoth quickly evaded the his razor sharp teeth and climbed on to the back of the beast, wounded the creature in the process. Those that were standing behind or beside the beast were thrown backwards by his humongous tail, but this wasn’t the only thing the orcs would have to deal with. The blood of the crocolisks on the beach formed mawfiend abominations, twisted conjurations from the dark magic on the island! The mawfiend dark material combined together shortly, forming one giant mawfiend. It shot up in the air and drops down between the Banana King, Tagrok and Za’karah as a blood bomb injuring many. The mawfiend had separate on impact returning to their original forms, as they did orcs charged, weapon and spell tearing the monstrosities apart! Krumoth was still riding the giant crocolisk making the wound on his back larger, Urzoga firing her bow shooting a flurry of arrows into his scaly skin but Skint had seen enough. She stomped over to the beast and with strength she did not know existed, booted the crocolisk in the face! The hit was so hard that the beasts eye flew out and rolled down the beach, the Banana King saw his opitunity and yoink! Quickly scooped up the eye, we would never know what would happen to the crocolisks eye.

The crocolisk was made short work off after a eye opening attack by Skint. With the battle on the beach won the orcs dusted themselves off and carried on with their search when they stumbled upon a statue of a mogu head. The mogu head bellowed asking who was there, this was no normal statue. The mogu statue revealed he had been there for centuries and was pleased for the brief bit of company talking to the orcs, he also let the orcs know that he knew where the evil on the island was. How this statue with no body knew was a mystery but the orcs played along, he would tell them if they answered three questions correctly. The first question asked was obvious, Deathwing of the black dragonflight had caused the recent cataclysm to the world. The orcs answered correctly but the mogu head disagreed, he believed the faerie dragons had caused the cataclysm. It would appear this Mogu Head was a little damaged, the orcs decided to think outside the box with their future answers. When the mogu head asked who was the paladin that fell and became the Lich King, they answered Hogger and the mogu head agreed. Likewise when they asked who gifted the orcs the demon blood, the orcs picked Droof. Again the mogu head agreed, stating that this orc often gave terrible gifts. Lastly the mogu head asked what race was Illidan Stormrage, obviously the Red Blade clan chose a murloc. They were correct and according the statue, Illidan Stormrage was his scales.

The mogu head told the orcs of what he knew, he sensed the evil of the islands was housed in the royal banana supply, that’s where they would find what they sort. The Banana King went bananas, chasing back over to the hozen village in search of answers, the orcs followed suite. On arrival the royal hozen guards were face down in the sand, the shadowy magic leaking into the air off their bodies. The culprits were there, one a old god minion with tentacles shooting out of his humanoid looking body. The other was a spirit wolf, they were speaking to one another when the wolf walked away and disappeared. The old god minion looked up at the orcs and approached them, he stated the wolf spirit was right, they were strong. He introduced himself, Dilposs was his name and that the orcs had been sent off course to this island as a test. He continued and acknowledged that they had past the first test but he would return again, then the Red Blade clan and all the greater spirits they revered would serve his master. Karnna Blackfeather had heard enough, she used her own shadow magic and teleported behind Dilposs and raised her dagger to his squid like throat. Dilposs form changed in to shadow as he floated away, he wasn’t interested in a fight. He told the orcs that they would learn obedience as a black shroud of magic consumed his entire body before dissipating away. His dark magic removing him from this plane of existence and just like that the island started to return to it’s normal self.

The wild life, the Panderan and orcs had regained their sanity but oddly the hozen were never affected by the old god’s influence. Shao-pao Shorepaw, the panderan leader arrived to greet his saviours. He thanked them for their aid but asked if they could be shipped off the island as well? The hozen were already going to sail back with the orcs with the deal they had agreed a week before. There was some hostility about the idea of the panderan sailing back with them, most notably from Karnna Blackfeather, but Vraxxar stepped in and promised them a safe trip to Kalimdor. As the orcs and panderan walked through the village many of the hozen were pointing at their heads shouting big brain! They had obviously realised of their own mental resilience. The Banana King ushered everyone on to the boat and with that he signalled for his strange contraception to start. The hozen began to hum in tandem as the strange contraception was let loose! A tree acting as a counter weight was let free as a giant boot mechanism swung back and from the force of it booted the ship off the shore and in to the ocean, thankfully the hozen’s repairs had kept it afloat.

The orcs reached Ratchet safely as the hozen shot off in to the Barrens, what had the orcs inflicted on the world? Crossroads would be home for them for the next few weeks as they tried to get their heads around the new dangers that not only affected them and their greater spirits, but the world as they knew it.

[Part 1: King of the Hill]

Part 1: King of the Hill
13th October 2019

The Kosh’harg was a distant memory as the orcs traveled home to Kalimdor. News of Orgrimmar being sieged and the Warchief’s betrayal was common knowledge amongst the clan now. The Sea Cucumber was docked on the east coast of the Swamp of Sorrows, this old ship had never, ever let the clan down! Some of the locals from Orgrimmar had been paid to sail the ship for the Red Blade clan, they greeted the orcs and without much hesitation the orcs began their long journey back home.

Their journey started well with great weather, but that didn’t last. On the second night the clouds started to turn black, the orcs feared the worst. Suddenly a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the sky as the heavens opened! Rain started to pour violently down splattering hard against the wooden ship, they had entered a storm! Relentlessly the orcs battled to keep the ship afloat and pointing in the right direction, lighting crackled through the clouds before one streaked downwardly hitting the ships deck causing a flash fire to spread! The buckets of water the orcs were throwing overboard were now being thrown towards the fire, with the help of their quick actions and the continuous downpour, the fire was put out.

The Red Blade clan in all the excitement started to feel lightheaded, could it of been the weather and stress? Dark visions played through their minds, friends and family twisted by evil they never knew existed! Be it fatigue, stress or the dark influence over the crews mind, it’s was all too much for them. They all lost consciousness aboard the Sea Cucumber, would this be the end for them all?

Whilst the orcs were unconscious the Sea Cucumber had unceremoniously crashed in to a collection of small islands. The ship had suffered severe damage to the side of the hull and would need repairing before she would sail again. Locals of the the island boarded the ship intrigued to see their new visitors, these monkey like humanoids are known to Azeroth as Hozen. They are inquisitive but immature, quickly they stole all the orcs weapons and tied them by their hands with rope. The orcs awoke dazed and confused, this wasn’t helped by hundreds of Hozen jumping over each other forming a ring around them. Amongst the Hozen one stood out, he wore a crown atop his head decorated with bananas. The Hozen introduced himself as ‘The Banana King’ as he ordered the his tribe to make the orcs move. In a instant the Hozen surrounded the orcs, poking at them continuously with crude spears.

As the orcs were led through the Hozen village they were spat at and even had banana skins thrown at them. The Banana King led the Red Blade clan to a cooking pot on the beach, he eyed them all up. His finger wiggled before finally he pointed at Razaron Madeye, he was lead up some small ramps to the top of the cooking pot. Madeye struggled but it was no use, he was about to become a Bleeding Hollow delicacy. A strange sensation came over the orcs after seeing Razaron’s predicament, oddly they started to look at one another with hunger? All that plump orcish meat! What on earth was going on? What could cause them to feel this way? The sensation passed but it had clearly affected some orcs more then others.

The Banana King carries on with journey around the village leaving Razaron to his fate at the cooking pot. Walking up through the muddy paths they finally reached the throne room. This consisted of a half a broken ship lodged in to the hill, the orcs were placed in a pile before his majesty with the Hozen surrounding them. The orcs looked around as the eyes of all the Hozen fell upon the orcs but their monkey eyes had all turned red. Their bodies then started to twist forming dark and sinister shapes. Seconds later and all the Hozen were back to their normal selves, something evil was affecting the minds of the Red Blade clan but for now they would have to deal with the threats in front of them. The Banana King carried on clearly unaware of the orcs visions, he explained to them that they would now make a deal but first he would test their strength. He turned around and tossed a banana skin over his shoulder which landed on Nakobu’s head. How embarrassing for the young orc! Nakobu would now have to duel the Banana King!

The duel was pretty one sided as Nakobu was struggling to cope with all that had taken place on the island. With a large thud of the Banana’s Kings rear the duel was over, the Banana King had won! He saw in the orcs strength, explaining that if they helped his tribe off the island they would repair the Sea Cucumber. The Banana King scratched his behind, spitting in his palm before offering Kargnar his hand. Kargnar reluctantly shook his hand accepting the deal. The Banana King’s Hozen tribe and the Red Blade clan were now officially allies! Razaron Madeye would appear unscathed, he wasn’t Hozen fodder as they had all thought. The Hozen smelt the wine on his body and saw a chef in him, what strange creatures would think Razaron was a chef! The Banana King led the orcs back to their ship but warned them of the dangers on the northern islands, madness had spread across those lands. Why the Hozen were not affected by these strange occurrences would remain a mystery, but for now the orcs would call this island home.

[Part 1: King of the Hill]

Part 1: King of the Hill (13th October 2019)
Part 2: Mogu Knows All (20th October 2019)

Campaign Map

News of the end of the Fourth War is common knowledge amongst the orcs, the Red Blade clan are travelling back to dusty lands of the Barrens to aid in whatever way they can. What could possibly go wrong in the journey aboard The Sea Cucumber?

Be prepared as your sanity will be tested to the limits as we hit the Tides of Madness!

Don't really get my picture taken much these days, here's two in the last six months that I think look nice. Mainly because it's with Alex, my 3 year old!

Razaron by ShadowPriest
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Well after Razaron was cleanse of the curse and his stolen life essence was restored, it was left with the clan to do with it as they wished. The unknown elements about the weapon makes it a bit of a predicament, do they risk trying to destroy? Is it worth wielding for it just to become active again? It's now under lock and key, awaiting a final resolution.

Perhaps it can be added again in another story in the future as a plot device.

[Razaron's Cursed Axe]

Razaron's Cursed Axe

Razaron's former axe origins is unknown, it was handed down to him from his father Gorgush as a family heirloom. Little did Razaron know that it was cursed, the wielder of the axe would have to pay the penalty for using it. When blood was spilt, the axe would drain a part of the users life essence as payment. During the years after Orgrimmar was built, Razaron and Peacemoon managed to freeze but not reverse the effects of the axe. Part of Madeye's life was stored within it, that was in till Xuja the Bloodgiver ambushed Razaron at Razor Hill and reactivated. The orcs of the Red Blade came to the Varog'gor's aid and entered the axe's nightmare world, former wielders of the axe and even it's victims were twisted and distorted in this new domain. Eventually the shade of Xuja was defeated with the help of a echo of Razaron's grandmother, the Matron Razara. Madeye's life was restored as the axe lays dormant, it's now kept under lock and key with the other Red Blade artifacts.

[Part 6: Return of the Wolf]

Part 6: Return of the Wolf
9th June 2019

The afternoon sun started to disappear as the orcs remained upbeat, Xuja had been defeated and Sharguul returned, albeit wounded. The last few days the orcs had started to prepare for what Sharguul called, the Blood Moon ritual. They had to restore what he had lost over the last few months! Gashuk had been studying the blades, scrolls and crystals they had picked up on their travels and he finally figured out the way to conjure this Blood Moon ritual. Sharguul then began whispering to him from his sleep, informing the sorcerer of the location on where it would all go down. The wolf spirit had been asleep since his rescue but he finally arose. “It is time! Kargnar have the orcs ready, the ritual will lure in those that crave blood or power! The one called Gashuk, I trust you listened to this ones words and have the ritual prepared?” Gashuk nodded, he had everything ready. “The Blood Moon will be performed on a ancient site in these swamps, that is where this one senses the blood magic is strongest! I warn you, this place won’t be for the faint of heart!” Sharguul said with a stern look. The orcs were handed their last task, the task that would see the Dark Fang restored. They all walked with purpose, a day of change awaited them. They could not fail now, or could they?

Upon them was the site, the orcs looked disgusted, bones and corpses by the thousands. The blood trolls had use this site to perform their very own rituals, harnessing the power of the dead. Sharguul’s narrowed his eyes and the orcs sensed he felt uncomfortable but this had to be done. It was obvious to even the most uneducated in the magical arts where this would all go down, at the highest point among the largest pile of the corpses. Sharguul got in to position and addressed the Redblade clan. “When the ritual starts it will lure in those that have a taste for blood. Spirits of the dead that haven’t crossed over will try and prevent this one from recovering, you must be prepared. Before I call the one known as Gashuk to start, organise yourselves, lay traps for any who dare to interrupt us. You have a short while to do so!” The orcs frantically got together creating traps, the demon hunter Vin’scardial placed down fel-fire sigils of flame whereas Zi’tani with the aid of the other shamans called to the elements and formed a earthen spike trap. Brusa on the other had focused her energies on the spirits, if any evil spirits would dare harm them her sigil would banish them! Time was now up, Sharguul let out a howl getting the orcs attention, “You’ve done well oathbound orcs, this one is proud to have you helping him. The one called Gashuk. You may begin!”

Gashuk was chosen by Sharguul to lead the ritual because of the sorcerer's knowledge with blood magic. Gashuk picked three others to help him with this undertaking, Srelok Grimtide, Zi’tani Steelstorm and Rhonya Steelheart, he would then tell them what needed to be done. Gashuk, with his three acolytes in place began to enact the ancient ritual of the Blood Moon, raising his blood-crystal high above his head Gashuk incants in an old tongue. Words of power, words of blood. Before long his crystal began to glow a harsh red and the other three mimic the enchantment; he drove his crystal into the opened jug of blood beside him whilst commanding the other ritualists to follow suit. As the blood-drenched stones were withdrawn from the jugs, intertwining beams of blood shoot forth from them into the sky above, and as all four beams connected, a giant sphere of blood formed bathing Sharguul in it’s blood-moonlight. It had started!

Everything went dark, strange noises could be heard all around the ritual site. The power that were being conjured here had disturbed the rest of many who called Nazmir home. It didn’t take long before blood troll drudges came pouring out of the wood work. Saliva dripping from their mouths, they were in a frenzy, even climbing and pushing over each other to reach the Blood Moon! Unfortunately for them they had stepped on Vin’scardial’s sigil of fel-flame, instantaneously they all fell to the floor burning to a crisp. This gave a advantage to the orcs, it had created a wall of burning corpses! But it did not deter the blood addicted trolls, more and more drudges appeared, climbing over the fel fire corpses of their fallen kin desperately trying to get to the Blood Moon! So many drudges came that eventually the flaming wall was pushed aside, when they climbed the hill they met steel. The orcs made light work of the drudges, but they were just the cannon fodder. Blood singers, deadly blood trolls who twisted their tongues to create harsh songs woven with blood magic!

They sang in unison and a globule of blood was thrown at Dhak which exploded causing light damage to the orcs nearby. Determined to see this day out, the orcs managed to silence the singing pests quickly. Those of the mortal realm were not the only one’s to show a interest in the Blood Moon, the dead arrived. Blood trolls spirits started attacking the orcs but in the chaos of combat the orcs heard more footsteps coming there way at a steady pace. Ten? Twenty? Thirty? It was hard to tell. Soon it all became clear. A rain of technicolour spells fell upon the risen spirits, spells of nature, arcane, holy, shadow, fire, ice and all that was in-between. From the smoke and dust kicked up by the spells came those footsteps, footsteps belonging to a group of tortollan spirits with a single living one at their centre. Roji and his family! “I've done some things that cannot be forgiven!” Roji yells. “But I had a choice if I wanted to try and pay you all back for what I did! To try and make things right. So here I am! ...With help.” Roji and the spirits of his family walked up to the orcs. The spirits were a pale blue, not the silvery light of the projection. They give a determined look! Roji and the spirits nodded at the orcs before joining them in defiance against those that would attempt to disrupt the ritual.

Fortunately for the clan, Brusa’s sigil activated. A blinding light shot around all the orcs, their eyes would take a while to recover and when they did the spirits were gone. Banished back from where they came, Brusa had a shocked look on her face not thinking she was capable of it. She was and she did! The spirits didn’t end there though, the biggest crawg the orcs would ever see had returnedm, be it in spirit form! Glob the Great Horns had arrived for a second time as he charged at the orcs! The orcs managed to slow him down when the earthern spike trap activated, impaling the beast like he impaled Madeye in life. It was then left up to Rrosh’tul Nosh’marek to finish off the crawg and did he ever? With grace that even Madeye would of been proud off, he jumped on the back of the beast and with his ironclaw, drove it through it’s spiritual back. Glob had been beaten a second time. The orcs may of thought they would get some rest bite, they wouldn’t. Xuja the Bloodgiver had risen from the dead, she was a hollow spirit of her former self! “You think dis is ova? Tis nevah be over! Ya going ta all pay and G’huun will rise! It’s not ova yet Red Blades, it’s not ova yet!” the spirit of Xuja said defiantly. A voice then suddenly rattled around the orcs and Xuja, they may have heard it before?

"Well, well, Xuja. Ya ain't got ya fancy little soulstone anymore, do ya?" The voice's laughter echoed around them all, "Ya be thinkin' ya could could pull da wool over de eyes of a Loa, eh? Not without that ya ain't." With a flash of blue spectral energy Bwonsamdi appeared, floating in the air with a large grin. He looked over the orcs. "As I said, I be keepin' to our little... deal." Xuja’s face was a picture, she was in shock! “Ya made a deal with.. Bwo..Bwo.. Bwomsamdi? No..!” The spirit of Xuja said as she’s forcefully was being sucked towards the Necropolis. “Nooooooooo!” she screamed as she disappeared out of sight.
"Ya soul be mine now! And what a mighty strong soul it is! Oho! Ol' Bwonsamdi be feelin' a bit spry now!" The Loa laughed to himself, seemingly dealing with the orcs greatest threat with no effort at all. Bwomsamdi looked at the orcs once again. "She won't be worrying ya no more. I'll be enjoying spendin' some... quality time wit' dat one on de Other Side. You, oh so mighty orcs... Ya can be on ya way now, eh? Our deal be complete. But... If any others of ya be lookin' to make a deal... I'll be waitin'. Ya know where ta find dis lonely Loa, eh?" Bwonsamdi grinned widely. He looks over to Dhak, giving him a bit of a knowing look before turning his gaze back to the orcs at large. “I'll be seein' ya soon..." The Loa seemed to look around for a specific orc. He gave up, giving a overly dramatic shrug. "Not 'ere, eh? No matter. Sooner or later, sooner or later." Bwonsamdi said laughing to himself. As suddenly as he appeared, the Loa of Death disappeared in a flash of ghostly blue, his laughter fading away.

The Blood Moon had been completed, the blood was transfused in to Sharguul’s body as he was restored! The unborn wolf’s booming voice spread across Nazmir, “THIS ONE IS RESTORED!” as a tremendous magical force shot out from him destroying many a foe with it’s spiritual energy, they didn’t stand a chance from it’s beyond the grave effects! “BE GONE OR FALL BEFORE THIS ONE’S WRATH!” The remaining spirits and blood trolls were quick to turn tail and run, Sharguul was fighting fit again and now they wouldn’t stand a chance against this greater wolf spirit. “The Redblade clan, this one is in your debt. We should head back to your camp, we have much to discuss. The future of your clan needs addressing.” With that Sharguul and the orcs began the walk back to camp, along the way they saw Roji and his family in the distance. They seem to exchange words, before the tortollan spirits slowly faded away in twinkling blue light. Roji, now on his own glanced to the departing orcs and raised his one hand signalling farewell to them. He turned around and started the long walk back to Gloom Hollow.

Sharguul lead the Redblade clan back through the swamps of Nazmir, the orcs had never felt safer. Sharguul, the protector of Akashok’s pack was with them. They finally had returned to the Red Blade camp, it had been a long few weeks and it served them well. Through the good and the bad it’s remained intact. Sharguul positioned himself and addressed the orcs so they can all hear. “There is much to discuss but before we do.” Sharguul shifted out of the mortal realm as a shadow lingered where he once was. Moments later he returned like he had never left in the first place! “This one had to correct a fault in the world, a fault that you’ve seen since you started down this journey. The faceless ghost, the faceless one existed because of this one’s neglect, duties this one could not complete!” The faceless ghost reappears in front of Sharguul, “The faceless one has been watching you, guiding you, protecting you! The will of the faceless one to carry on, it was love! Reaching out for help I shattered a soul with my deathly claws. It was all this one could do, he could not put the fate of Akashok’s pack in danger! Now the shattered soul becomes one as the shepherd of the dead lures this one not from death, but back to life!” The faceless ghost lays down, Sharguul closing his eyes moves the body of Madeye, it’s weaved in to place with the faceless ghost. “The one known as Razaron Madeye did not deserve death, he fell because of my wrongdoings. Now he will live once more as the first disciple of Sharguul. Rise!” The body of Razaron fuses in to place with the faceless ghost, it fits like the last piece in a jigsaw. The spiritual energies surrounding the body close the fatal wound as Madeye opens his eye and gasps for air. “…the…blood!”

Razaron slowly gets to his feet, he looks down at at where he was impaled. There was no sign of a wound, he then looks at his back. The mark of the blessing of Sharguul appeared on his back. The orcs of the Red Blade were over the moon to see their Varog’gor, Urzoga and Zi’tani even wanting to do him physical damage because of the emotional roller-coaster he put them through. Razaron addressed the orcs, “…All the whispers had stopped, silence was all I knew, lost between life and death. Sharguul is right, I looked deep within my soul, what drove me? Love, I searched for what I cared for deeply. My family. I watched you all before I died and after, my soul shattered. I called out to you all to no response. I followed you all blindly. Now with Sharguul restored he lead me back, back to the living! I have returned, the future is now unknown to me.” Razaron smirks despite the oddity of the situation, he then taps his eye patch! “I saw my death before and now I’ve gone past it. What will I do from here? I will live. I will just live!” 

Sharguul nodded and started to speak again, “The one known as Razaron Madeye made the ultimate sacrifice for the clan and pack. Now he will learn from the Dark Fang. Now this one’s presence is known to the Redblade clan I will take my place a long side Akashok’s pack, despite being unborn.” Sharguul grimaces as he says that last word. “Dangers lurk through this world and the next, dangers this one can not understand. We must learn together or fail trying. The Redblade clan once held a path that upheld the safety of the clan. It shall be remade by Akashok’s will. The Path of Cunning lead by your Varog’gor. I shall instruct the first disciple of Sharguul with how it will be formed in this ever changing world. Give him time to recover and to learn from me.” Sharguul’s eyes then focused on to Gashuk, “Now on to something else, I trust you have this one’s fangs?” Gashuk would feel like the wolf was staring in to his soul. Gashuk held out the four blades, “The black fangs of Sharguul, The Fangs of the Unborn. I do not know why they were placed in this mortal world. This is a mystery, but for now each Varog’gor will have one. They aided you in Xuja’s defeat, may they aid you again!” The Fangs of the Unborn would shoot out of Gashuk’s possession and find there home with the Varog’gor. “It will be up to the Varog’gor now to discover their powers, this will be a test for the new leaders of the Path of Cunning.”

The great wolf then pointed his black paw at Gashuk, “Gashuk, step forward! You’ve proved yourself throughout this whole ordeal. Your knowledge has proven invaluable as this one may not have existed without your aid. Kneel!” Sharguul walked around the sorcerer and gave him a good smell, his eyes looking down at the sorcerer as if he was inspecting him. “From this day forward, the one known as Gashuk does not exist! He shall now be known as Gashuk Bloodmoon! You may rise Gashuk Bloodmoon, take your place with your family, I shall watch your progress intently!” Gashuk had been honoured for his actions by the great wolf spirit! “Now It is time for Sharguul to leave, but this one will never fully be gone. The Dark Fang will be watching, this one will be here for each of you in death. We will meet again. Goodbye and… Thank you!” Sharguul once again shifted in to another domain leaving behind a lingering shadow that disappeared after a few moments.

The Whispers in the Shadows had ended, for now!