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Agreed with Gashuk! <3
Thanks for all you did, and hopefully we'll keep seeing Karg and you around still!

*Steals fox and runs away*

Loved reading this! <3

Red dust flew up around the paws of the large wolf running at high speed through the Barrens. Rhonya was holding on, for now, but the expression on her face betrayed the pain she was in. Riding Keren all the way from Razor Hill to the harpy woods in the neighbouring lands with her bruised and cracked ribs had really not been a good idea. But what choice did she have?
Sadoks face re-appeared before her mind’s eye. Thin, sunken eyes, a face she hadn’t even recognized at first and she had seen him in a lot of horrible conditions through the years. None as bad as this. His very essence, his very soul was withering away and it broke her heart. She’d been shocked to see him in that state, mainly also because it had been unexpected.

She’d gone to the water for some privacy to change her bandages, but she hadn’t expected to find the water moving when she looked down into it, shaping slowly into the reflection of a face looking back at her. And not her own reflection.
Sadok had even sounded different. Gone was the mostly jovial and joking personality. This had been … a shade. A shade of his former self, barely anything left of him anymore. He even appeared to get distracted easily, as if his mind wasn’t fully there, his thoughts disappearing, going into memories of the past.

He wasn’t on the Eternal Planes. He was in an empty world, a reflection of a world, an abandoned world. And he was slipping away. Disappearing. Together they discussed what might’ve caused this abnormality, what caused his spirit to be thrown someplace else.
Eventually they remembered the Sceptre. The artefact that he had been holding that day, that saved the cubs and Sukeenah, but cost him his own life as he couldn’t move away from the onslaught, couldn’t avoid the entire building collapsing on him when he ran out of energy to fuel the sceptre that was protecting him but also killing him at the same time.

The only one who could answer things about the Sceptre though, was its original maker and owner. An orc, Ancestor of the Red Blade clan.
And he was one of the most difficult to work with.

The woods came into view. Rhonya steered Keren in the direction of one particular tree before she left the wolf, climbing off the saddle with a painful grunt. Her chest was on fire, pain searing white hot with every breath, but she needed to do this.
She didn’t have much to work with right now, but the most important thing she needed was right there.
Rhonya softly placed her hand against one of the trees, closing her eyes to focus. The earth below the tree roots started to move, pushing something up. It looked like a long, spiked mace. Nothing special. But she knew better than that.
She prepared a bowl of incense and sat herself down in front of the sceptre.
It was time for some improvisation.

"Right-.. Ghrm. " Rhonya cleared her throat gently before closing her eyes once more.
"Mruthgor, Shaman King. Oh high and mighty spirit, honoured ancestor, I beg for your attention. I kneel before your Sceptre, before you, to ask for your aid, your guidance. Only someone as amazing as you can aid me, Shaman King."
Maybe a little thick on the compliments.. but if she remembered well, that's what he enjoyed hearing. It was worth a try? She focused entirely on the sceptre in front of her, of the connection it probably still had to the previous owner of the damned thing.

It didn’t take long, as she expected. A brilliant blue light flashed and the image of the Ancestor appeared inside of it. He pointed at her with a potent finger, his booming voice letting out a lengthy boast as was common among the great warriors of Old Draenor.

“I AM IMPORTANT, I AM MIGHTY. THE VALIANT ORC WHO HAS NO EQUAL AMONG THE WARLORDS OF THE FOUR QUARTERS OF THE WORLD.
THE WONDERFUL SHEPHERD WHO IS NOT AFRAID OF BATTLE. THE GREAT FLOOD WHICH NONE CAN OPPOSE. THE SHAMAN-KING WHO MAKES THOSE WHO ARE NOT SUBJECT TO HIM SUBMISSIVE. THE GREAT WARRIOR WHO TREADS ON THE NECK OF HIS ENEMIES, TRAMPLES DOWN ALL FOES, AND SHATTERS THEIR ARMIES.

THE SHAMAN-KING WHO RULES WITH THE SUPPORT OF THE GREAT SPIRIT-GODS, WHO COMMANDS SUPPORT FROM ALL LANDS, WHOSE HAND HAS CONQUERED CREATURES OF THE ICY MOUNTAINS AND THE SEAS, FASHIONED THEM IN WHITE LIMESTONE AND ALABASTER, AND PLACED THEM AT MY GATES. I HAVE ADORNED MY SETTLEMENT OF KRAAG’GOL, AND MADE IT GLORIOUS.
I HAVE TRANSCENDED DEATH, AND I GO WHERE I PLEASE AMONG THE LANDS OF THE LIVING AND THE LANDS OF THE DEAD.
I AM MRUTHGOR, THE CELEBRATED SHAMAN-KING. WHO DARES SUMMON ME?"

Rhonya kept her head bowed low while he spoke, though there was a little tired frown on her face. She’d forgotten how bad it was with him. She needed his help though, so time for some acting. She wouldn’t let him see how much pain she was in, how direly she needed his help. She’d just play along. And get him to give her what she wanted. Hopefully.

She realised she had tuned him out a little and he was done speaking, looking down at her expectantly. Oh, right, he had asked who she was.
"Eh-.. Oh mighty Shaman King, I am but your humble servant, in need of aid. My name is Rhonya Steelheart, we met before, though I am by no means important enough to be remembered. But perhaps your brilliant mind can still call upon the memory. "

Mruthgor scratched his chin, before nodding.

"I DO NOT FORGET MY FAITHFUL SERVANTS. I AM THE ORC THAT DOES NOT FORGET. MY MEMORY IS RENOWNED AMONG ORCS. I AM MRUTHGOR THE GREAT, MRUTHGOR WHOSE MEMORY STRETCHES BACK AEONS UNTO THE FOUNDING OF THE WORLD, WHERE SPIRITS AND FURIES SHARED THE LAND WITH MORTALS."
He continued.
"WHAT IS IT YOU REQUEST OF THE MIGHTY SHAMAN-KING, HE WHOSE ABILITY IS GREATER THAN ALL OTHERS?"

"I am humbled you remember me, mighty Shaman king."  Rhonya bowed her head a little deeper, suppressing a hiss of pain. Keep up the act. Even if it's entirely humiliating.
"As you can see, I have your sceptre here. Against our will, it has been.. activated in the past, causing Sadok Sharptongue to get stuck and eventually be crushed by rubble. Entirely his own fault of course, but now his spirit appears to be stuck between plains. I sit here before you to ask you for any aid with this. "

Mruthgor heared Rhonya's words with an attentive if patronising expression, then he laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. HOHOHOHOHOHO. FOOLS! FOOLS.
DID YOU NOT HEED THE WARNING? DID YOU NOT HEED THE WORDS OF MRUTHGOR THE CELEBRATED, MRUTHGOR THE VENERATED, MRUTHGOR THE WISE? DID YOU NOT LISTEN WELL TO HE WHO COMES FROM THE MISTS: THE MISTS OF TIME, OF LEGEND OF MYTH. HE WOULD COMES FROM BARREN LANDS OF ICE AND SNOW, TOO ARDUOUS FOR ANY OTHER CLAN. A PLACE WHERE THE MIGHTY FIRES OF MY GREATHALL, DEN OF THE WOLF CLAWS, BURN LONG INTO THE FREEZING NIGHT.

HARK NOW AS I REPEAT WHAT WAS SAID TWENTY-ONE SEASONS PAST, FOR THE BENEFIT OF THOSE THAT WOULD NOT AND COULD NOT LISTEN, SUCH AS THE SMALL-MINDED SHARPTONGUE.
IN MY MANY FRUITFUL YEARS AS CHIEFTAIN AND MIGHTY SHAMAN-KING, MY TALENT AND POWER OVER THE SPIRIT-GODS HAD BROUGHT MANY BOONS TO MY CLAN. LO, HOW THIS POWER BROUGHT THE THUR-RUK ORACLES TO END THE LINE OF THE WOLFKINGS WHEN GRUTHGAR THE RAGGED PASSED WITHOUT HEIR.

YET AFTER MANY YEARS OF WALKING AMONG THE SPIRITS, A COST HAD BEEN EXACTED. A COST THAT EVEN THE GREAT MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING, CHAMPION AND GENERALLY EXCELLENT PERSON MUST PAY. SO THAT IT WAS WITH AGE AND STRIFE THAT MY SPIRITUAL COMMUNION BECAME UNFOCUSED AND FRAGMENTED. YET I WOULD NOT ALLOW THE SOURCE OF MY POWER TO SLIP FROM MY MIGHTY CLAWS, THE POWERFUL CLAWS OF THE SHAMAN-KING, HE WHOSE CLAWS ARE GREATER THAN ANY OTHER CLAWS IN ALL MANNER OF CLAWLIKE THINGS.

INSTEAD SO IT CAME TO PASS THAT THE THUR-RUK ORACLES PLEDGED THEIR POWER TO MINE, EACH PLACING A PORTION OF THEIR SOUL WIRTHIN THE SCEPTRE OF THE SHAMAN-KING, THE GREAT AND POTENT WEAPON THAT YOU HAVE LAID BEFORE YOU, A WEAPON THAT HAS LAID WASTE TO ARMIES BEYOND YOUR RECKONING. WITH THIS SACRIFICE MY FORMER POWER WAS RESTORED AND I CONTINUED TO RULE CLAN REDBLADE WITH HONOR, WISDOM AND STRENGTH. TRULY I AM AS HONORABLE, WISE AND STRONG NOW AS I WAS THEN, AND EVER WILL BE."

Rhonya tried to keep listening, a large frown on her face. She had to shift her hand to help herself keep her balance, placing it in front of her on the ground while trying to make it look as if she was still humbly paying attention while he kept talking.

“AS I PASSED UNTO THE REALM OF SPIRITS, THIS MIGHTY WEAPON WAS KEPT AS AN HEIRLOOM OF CLAN REDBLADE, THOUGH NONE COULD WIELD IT -- FOR NONE ARE THE EQUAL OF MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING, HE WHO IS MIGHTY IN ALL WAYS. YET FOLLOWING THE TREACHERY OF AKESH THE POISONER, STONEBROWBANE AND LEGION SNAKE, IT FELL BEYOND THE RECKONING OF MORTALS AND SOON INTO THE HANDS OF THE TWILIGHT'S HAMMER CULT.

TRULY THEN I HEARD THE SPIRIT-GODS CALL OUT WITH A VENGEANCE, WITH PAIN AND WITH ANGER. THEY CURSED THE SCEPTRE, CURSED THE SHAMAN-KING, CURSED CLAN REDBLADE AND ALL OF ITS DESCENDENTS. THESE DARL FPRCES PERVERTED ITS INTENT TO CALL UPON THE SPIRITS AND INSTEAD SHACKLE THEM INTO SERVICE, A TRULY DEPLORABLE ACT (THOUGH MRUTHGOR IS OF COURSE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO DO SO IF HE WANTED, HONOR FORBIDS HIM EXERCISING THIS GREAT POWER).

LO, THOUGH THE SCEPTRE WAS RECOVERED, IT WAS NOT PURIFIED. LO, THOUGH IT ENTERED INTO THE SAFEKEEPING OF HONORABLE ORCS, IT REMAINED A DISHONORED WEAPON DEDICATED TO A GREAT EVIL. SO THAT IT WAS WHEN THE ONE YOU CALL SADOK WAS IN MORTAL PERIL, THE WEAPON SEIZED UPON HIM AND ENSNARED HIS VERY SOUL. YES, THE SHAMAN-KING HAS KNOWN THIS, THOUGH NONE WOULD ASK HIM. HOW FORGOTTEN THE GREAT MRUTHGOR IS BY THE CHILDREN OF REDBLADE, HOW ASHAMED THEY MUST FEEL.

SO, THIS IS YOUR BIND. YOU HOLD BEFORE YOU A SCEPTRE CONTAINING THE SOUL OF THE ONE YOU SEEK TO SAVE, WHICH THE WEAPON HAS CONSUMED SLOWLY. IF YOU WISH TO SAVE WHAT REMAINS, THE SCEPTRE MUST BE CONSECRATED. IF YOU WISH YOU DESTROY THE WEAPON, SO TO WILL YOU DESTROY THE SOUL WITHIN. THE CHOICE IS YOURS."
Mruthgor nods mightily.
"MRUTHGOR HOPES YOU HAVE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION. THE MIGHTY SHAMAN-KING WILL NOT REPEAT HIMSELF AGAIN."

Rhonya looked somewhat impressed when he finished talking. She had a great urge to tell him what she really thought of him, but.. he was still an Ancestor and she needed his help. So she’d play her part. Like an obedient little shaman.

"I heard you and I will remember, mighty Shaman King. And I ask you now, because I didn't know about this curse. I apologize if you had to tell the clan this before already. We'll try to do better." She winced a short moment, inhaling with a sharp hiss before continuing.
"Pray, do tell me, how does one ..consecrate such a mighty object?"

Mruthgor looked down at Rhonya as if she was the stupidest person alive.
"HOW DO YOU CONSECRATE A CORRUPTED OBJECT? ARE YOU NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A SAGE OF YOUR CLAN, COUNCIL IN MATTERS OF THE SPIRITS? TRULY, HOW STANDARDS HAVE FALLEN IN THE MANY YEARS SINCE MRUTHGOR THE MIGHTY SHAMAN-KING TRANSCENDED MORTALITY.
YOU MUST ANOINT A VESSEL OF CLEANSING WATERS BLESSED BY THE ELEMENTAL SPIRIT-GODS OF THE ABYSSAL MAW. YOU MUST PREPARE A WHITE FLAME OF PURITY BY SEEKING THE APPROVAL OF THE ELEMENTAL SPIRIT-GODS OF THE FIRELANDS. YOU MUST CRAFT A STICK OF INCENSE AMONG THE FOUR WINDS ATOP A MOUNTAIN-PEAK, BLESSED BY THE SPIRIT-GODS OF THE SKYWALL. YOU MUST GATHER SOIL FROM THE TWO ENDS OF THE EARTH, HALLOWED BY THE BLESSING OF THE SPIRIT-GODS OF THE DEEPHOLM.

BATHE THE SCEPTER IN THE WATERS OF THE VESSEL AND PRONOUNCE THE WORDS 'AQUA, EGO EXCITO ELE.' PASS THE SCEPTER OVER THE WHITE FLAME. 'IGNEM, EGO EXCITO ELE." PASS IT OVER THE RISING SMOKE OF THE INCENSE STICK. “VENTUS, EGO EXCITO ELE.” AND BURY IT WITHIN THE SOIL OF PURITY. “TERRA, EGO EXCITO ELE.”
FINALLY, TAKE THE SCEPTER IN BOTH HANDS AND RECITE THE FOLLOWING WORDS SEVEN TIMES: "I CONSECRATE THIS WEAPON BY THE POWERS OF THE FOUR ELEMENTS AND THE SPIRITS THAT BIND THEM. MAY THE SPIRIT-GODS WITNESS THIS HALLOWING OF ITS MATTER -- IN MY HANDS SHALL IT SERVE TO WEAVE THE POWERS OF THE SPIRITS. AS I WILL IT SO IT SHALL BE."
YES, THE SCEPTER’S POWER WILL BE MADE ANEW AND YOU MIGHT RELEASE THE SOUL WITHIN, TO ITS FINAL REST IN THE ETERNAL PLAINS.

MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING HOPES HE HAS BEEN SUITABLY CLEAR ABOUT THIS MOST SIMPLE OF RITUALS."

Rhonya now did look up at him, blinking. Surprised. She opened her mouth a little, but didn’t find the words at first.
"Eh-... What? I'm sorry, but that's.. not simple at all. There is no other way?"
For a moment forgotten that she was supposed to be humble and submissive, a light expression of anger crossed over her face.

Mruthgor stared down Rhonya, an unimpressed expression beneath his ancient wolfmask.
"FOR A RITUALIST AS POWERFUL AND KNOWLEDGABLE AS MRUTHGOR THE CELEBRATED SHAMAN-KING, TRULY IS IT SIMPLE. YET WHAT IS SIMPLE IS NEITHER EASY NOR FAST. YOU MUST DECIDE WHETHER YOU WILL CLEANSE THE SCEPTRE AND FREE THE SOUL OF THE ONE ENSNARED WITHIN, OR TO SIMPLY DESTROY IT AND WITH IT DESTROY THE SOUL. THE CHOICE IS YOURS, FOR THE SHAMAN-KING MAY COUNSEL BUT IT IS FOR MERE MORTALS TO ACT."

"I can't.. get to all those places you mentioned, as ... mere mortal. Someone as powerful as you must be able to help me, no?"
She could try, at the very least..
"I am but a mere mortal, after all." Rhonya said softly, lowering her head a bit more.

Mruthgor laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. HOHOHOHOHOHOHO. DO YOU THINK MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING IS SO EASILY SWAYED BY THE BASEST FLATTERY?"
He snorted.
"A FAVOR FOR A FAVOR THEN. I WILL USE MY GREAT POWER TO ACQUIRE THE ITEMS YOU REQUIRE FOR THIS RITUAL, BUT YOU MUST DO SOMETHING FOR ME."

Rhonya sighed softly, grumbling to herself before answering: "Favor for a favor. The great Shaman King is very generous. What would you ask of me, Mruthgor the almighty?"

"I AM DISAPPOINTED AND DISHEARTENED THAT SO FEW ORCS OF CLAN REDBLADE HONOR OR CALL UPON THE GREAT MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING. IT IS A GREAT INSULT TO BE IGNORED. MRUTHGOR DEMANDS RECOGNITION. YOU WILL HOLD AN EVENING'S CELEBRATION AMONG THE CLAN IN HONOR OF MRUTHGOR, WHERE STORIES WILL BE TOLD, ALE WILL FLOW AND ALL WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THE GREATEST OF SPIRIT-WALKERS.

MRUTHGOR WILL BE WAITING AND WATCHING. WHEN THE EVENING'S FESTIVITIES HAVE CONCLUDED, AND IF THE MIGHTY SHAMAN-KING IS SATISFIED, YOU WILL FIND EVERYTHING YOU REQUIRE FOR THE CONSECRATION WITHIN YOUR VERY HOME. SUCH IS MY POWER."
Mruthgor nodded grimly. He was clearly very serious about this.

Rhonya noded slightly. Well, what else had she expected.
".. I can do this. Very well, you have a deal, oh Almighty Mruthgor. I will hold to my end of it and I expect you to hold to yours then."

Mruthgor returned her nod, more firmly.
"MRUTHGOR THE CELEBRATED SHAMAN-KING ALWAYS HONORS A BARGAIN. WHEN THE CLAN'S VOICES ARE UNITED IN PRAISE FOR MRUTHGOR, YOU WILL HAVE WHAT YOU NEED. THIS WILL MY COVENANT, AND MY SWORN WORD."
He stared Rhonya down, folding his arms.
"WILL THIS BE ALL? MRUTHGOR'S TIME IS VERY VALUABLE."

"Wonderful.. That will be all, mighty Shaman King. I thank you for the time you spend on this humble shaman, and I will honour your memory together with the clan."
She just puts her head almost on the ground now, again suppressing a grunt of pain. She could barely focus now, the pain in her ribs making her see black spots before her eyes.

"EXCELLENT. FOR THE BLOOD OF CLAN REDBLADE. FOR MRUTHGOR THE SHAMAN-KING. FOR ME."
Mruthgor's bright spectral form faded away in a matter of moments, leaving Rhonya alone in the dark.

She fell over instantly when he was gone, wrapping her arms around her chest.
A party… Very well. If she had to do this.. All that she had to make the orcs do was eat, drink, tell some stories and raise their tankard in his honour.
She really really hoped he would keep his end of the promise. Deals with spirits were often rather risky. But she needed to help Sadok.
And thus, she got back upon her feet slowly, made sure the Sceptre was hidden again, and started her trip back to Razor Hill, the pain in her chest a constant fire burning.
Time to plan a party.



((I applaud all of you who actually read this all through.))

Even more so in my eyes, if someone does play a concept that is 'in general' considered to be OP.. Even more praise if they manage to do it in such a way so it doesn't come across as if they picked that class just to be stronger than everyone else.
I've seen enough people picking a class or even subrace (Half ogre or even certain troll races for example) only because then they'd be 'allowed' to be stronger than everyone else and misuse that.

Praise to those who play something more powerful in such a way that it is coming across as if it's not only played merely because it's powerful. But because they manage to make it work and keep it interesting and fair -dispite- their class/concept being stronger.

Something I commissioned a while ago, made by the lovely https://thesentel.deviantart.com/

The others continued talking still, standing at her bed. Rhonya didn't really hear them anymore, she was just staring down into this cup of glowing blue water. It looked utterly creepy and not something she'd normally voluntarily drink. But Arhnum had given it to her, and she trusted him. Rhonya realised she might’ve been a bit quiet to him and perhaps hadn’t seemed very happy to see him, but she was just so tired…

Shrewd on her lap let out a soft huff through his nose. He was still there with her, even though his life companion had walked outside on his own. She was happy for it though, because if Shrewd was comfortable here with her, it meant that her bloodbrother was safe as well. The wolf would let her know if something was amiss, the bond between those two was stronger than anything else she’d seen so far, when it came to wolf and orc.

Sometimes she envied that bond. Personally Rhonya had never had something so deep, so pure, so.. primal. Wild. Some could argue that her connection with the elements was something to envy in return, but that was more of a mutual agreement of aid, not so much a bond of love and care. Especially now that Sadok was gone and her cubs safely away from her, she was very happy with someone just… being there for her. Shrewd might’ve not been able to talk to her with words or feelings like with her brother, but the fact he was there and gave her his attention was enough for now.
She’d had a short moment with Kozgugore too, for which she was very glad. Not often did Rhonya show her affection for him in such a public place, but… She couldn’t help herself earlier. Tired, hurting both mentally and physically, worried about him.. so when he finally had a bit of time and stood before her, all she could think of doing was just to put her arms around his neck, place her head against his shoulder and breathe in the scent of the brother that had been lost to her for so long. Finally the weight was off her shoulders, the worries that he’d been killed or taken captive when he hadn’t showed in Stonetalon.

Rhonya’s hand moved gently to scratch Shrewd behind an ear. She was still looking down into the cup. Ten hours, Arhnum had said. Like a coma, but she’d wake up as if she had slept a lot longer, her energy returned. She hoped he was right.
So without any more hesitation, she downed the blue glowing water, pulling a bit of a face at the taste. Some things were spoken to the others in the inn, but her head was already feeling a little weird, so she actually didn’t have much of a clue what she was saying.
Rhonya set the cup aside and shifted herself on the bed, very gently removing her legs from under Shrewd his head, lying down beside him instead. He turned his head and laid it on her stomach instead, just as comfortable. Lightly putting her arm around his neck in return, Rhonya noticed the others leaving.

A few minutes later, a very, very heavy darkness came over her, like a massive blanket being spread over her mind. Last thing she felt was Shrewds soft fur under her hands, before she lost consciousness.

Haha thank you! Many ways of doing it though, I just kind of base it on irl shaman /pagan rituals and things. (Google is your friend!) Everyone sort of does it in their own way.

The trek up the mountain was a long and tiring one. Step by step, Rhonya got higher and higher, but her breathing also got heavier and she started to feel the ache in her legs. Almost there.. she was almost there!
It was utterly dark around her and she had swapped her bright armour for dark brown tinted pants and a simple shirt with long sleeves, her hair bound up in a long ponytail that hung heavy on her back. She risked a glance over her shoulder, smiling as she watched the small puffs of wind clear out her footprints, blowing the sand around where she stepped. Srelok had aided her with that little trick when she’d gone to update him about the former evenings happenings, to make sure she couldn’t be followed that easily.

Finally, she reached the top. The air was clear here, the night sky stretching out all above her. Her hair moved as the little wind spirit twirled around her before disappearing. It’d probably be back later. With a deep sigh Rhonya sat herself down, taking a moment to catch her breath and drink a little. The bag she’d been carrying was gently set aside.
The place was abandoned for now, but not empty. Large totems towered over drums that surrounded a ritual circle. The circle in turn was filled with items, bowls and offerings, various carved wooden idols and painted rocks.


Rhonya stayed away from the circle. It wasn’t hers, the Tauren had made it long ago, and she wouldn’t use it. But this mountain had a ritual circle on it for a reason, the Tauren believing it brought them closer to their spirits, their sun and their moon. Perhaps the veil between the worlds was thinner here. It was worth a try.
So she started to set up her own little circle, a respectful distance from the larger one.
It was a circle of several bowls, one filled with earth, one with a burning stick of incense in some sand, one with water and one with a feather. All representing the four elements. In the middle she placed a small rabbit carcass, freshly killed, on top of some wooden sticks.
She herself remained sitting inside the circle, in front of the rabbit and made herself comfortable, closing her eyes. Her soft voice filled the quiet night air.

“Air, fire, earth, water, wilds.. I call on all of you. I plea for your aid, to help me find and thank a certain spirit.
A spirit that aided us in times of need, that aided us without being asked to by any of us. A spirit I don’t know, but would like to know…
Dear spirit, if you can hear me..”

With a small flint and tinder box and a small mutter, Rhonya set the wood and rabbit in front of her on fire. First the smell of burning fur filled the air, but moments later it started to smell of burned meat.

“I offer to you, spirit of the windroc, this rabbit. I offer to you, spirit , my blood. “
With those words she grabbed her ritual knife, slicing it across her palm, letting some of her blood drip into the fire.

“You saved my blood. My family, so I gift you mine as a sign of trust, as a thank you. Please, accept my offerings, accept my thanks…”

Rhonya remained quiet now, her eyes closed, her bleeding fist still hanging above the fire as she waited patiently, hoping for an answer, a sign, anything.

A few moments, nothing. No sound at all aside from the still slightly burning rabbit, the sizzling of the drops of blood falling into the fire and evaporating into the air. No movement of anything, no change in light as far as she could notice with her eyes closed.
Then, suddenly, something softly brushed along her cheek, down her neck and over her shoulder. For a moment Rhonya thought the little air elemental had returned, but it disappeared again and it hadn’t felt the same as the one Srelok had asked to accompany her. 
Again, a light touch. This time different. Warmer, softer, making the hairs on her arms rise and goose bumps appear on her skin. Just as fast as the first one, this one disappeared as well. 


Rhonya remained sitting for a little while longer, slowly opening her eyes. The rabbit wasn’t burning anymore and she actually didn’t know how long she had been sitting there. Her wound had stopped bleeding and she now felt the muscles in her arm were entirely cramped because she had been holding it forwards all the time. A small smile appeared on her face though.

“I’m glad you came.. Thank you.” She whispered, before standing up slowly, giving her body the chance to get the blood flowing properly again through her legs before she turned to the edge of the mountain.
Now some sand moved close to her feet again in weird patterns and Rhonya recognized the somewhat cheerful presence of the little air elemental. “Welcome back..” she said softly, her smile growing.


Leaving all the things she brought behind, she started her trip back down the slope of the mountain, pondering on what had happened. So there were two, at the very least. Two different ones, keeping a close eye on the orcs and what they were doing. The touch had been very faint however, something Rhonya found odd, seeing most spirits liked to make themselves known a bit more by showing what they could do. Especially because she had seen the windroc very clearly before and according to Nosh’marak, the spirit helping them the day before had actually given him the strength to stand up again and withstand the mist. There was power in them, that was for sure.

Now the questions remained.. Who or what were they, and why were they helping the orcs?
Rhonya sighed softly. She was happy though for now. If she had pried too much they might’ve taken it as an insult, so for now a ‘thank you’ and an actual acknowledgement had to be enough. At least she could tell the others with a certainty now they were watched over by something, aiding them along the way… It made her feel better.

Perhaps hope wasn’t lost yet.

\o/ The spam continues!

Azolg! All the chibi's.

Vezzzz.
I'm gonna finish the list I have right now first and then see how I feel haha xD

Next! Okiba!

Best GM. Plus Shrewd. <3