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#31
Odds & Ends / The Path of Wisdom
Last post by Kozgugore - March 21, 2021, 10:38:33 PM
¤ Orcish Lore ¤ Orcish Timeline ¤ Red Blade History ¤ Red Blade Culture ¤ Great Spirits ¤ Red Blade Ranks ¤ FAQ ¤
A long time ago, the Red Blades were little more than impetuous warriors, seeking glory, fame and honor for either themselves or the highest bidder. All of this changed when the warband settled down in the northernmost reaches of the Old World and reformed into a clan. It takes more than the primal might of the blade to guide a clan into prosperity, and so there came a need for enlightenment: orcs who made it their life's work to pursue religion and matters of the mind. Enter the Path of Wisdom.
Whether it's the Furies of the Old World, the elements of Azeroth, the ancestral spirits, medicinal healing or even matters of the mind, the Path of Wisdom is home to all orcs with an affinity for any one of these aspects. Shamans may be the most obvious choice when it comes to orcs, but even spiritually attuned orcs that are not trained in the arts of shamanism, wise men and women and more recently even mages have a place in the Path. Although the Path's focus lies rooted in the spiritual origins of the clan of old, it offers a place for all orcs who are continuously in search of further knowledge and enlightenment. In doing so, they, too, carry great responsibility in their spiritual duties to the clan as a whole.
The Gosh'kar, or Disciples of the Totem, form the spiritual center of the clan. It is by their guidance that the clan remains true to the spirits and the elements, and by their hand that its orcs remain in good health and do not give in to the malevolent influences of Azeroth. As such, the Gosh'kar are multifaceted in their roles and fill in a myriad of positions within the clan.
Not only do the shamans of the clan ensure that all elements remain in balance and the spirits are adequately honoured and pleased, fledglings to shamanism or orcs that are generally spiritually inclined are also welcomed to learn and harness the clan's spirituality. In addition to these orcs, spellcasters are also welcomed in to help further academical or other magical goals, as well as healers and other learned orcs - even diplomats and scribes. Indeed, the Path of Wisdom and its Gosh'kar carry a multitude of responsibilities, but the path is also a never-ending one: its orcs are expected to always continue seeking further enlightenment and wisdom - both for the clan's sake as well as their own.
Progression as a Gosh'kar:
Initiate
The Initiates are the first tier in the progression of the Gosh'kar. They have only just made their first steps to enlightenment, and are expected to keep a close eye on their peers and learn from them. When appointed a mentor, they will aid their mentor in the tasks they are given. It is during this time that the Initiates are expected to discover for themselves what future position within the clan would help them best in being of service to their kin.
Seeker
Seekers form the heart of the Path of Wisdom, standing as fully fledged Gosh'kars of the clan and entrusted to carry out any and all of its core duties in maintaining the clan's balance. Depending on the role they have chosen for themselves to fill in within the clan, they strive to fulfill these to the best of their abilities. The Path of Wisdom does not end here, however: Seekers are expected to continue on expanding their knowledge and skills, as an orc never ceases to learn new things.
Keeper
While the Path of Wisdom can be home to any orc who seeks to learn greater knowledge of matters of spirits, elements, magics, the mind or otherwise, it takes a particular amount of dedication and devotion to one's profession to rise above the average Gosh'kar. The Keepers are just that: proof that a Gosh'kar's pursuit for knowledge never ends, and that no excuse is great enough to keep an orc from expanding upon one's wisdom. The Keepers know exactly what their role in the clan is and have proven this to their fellow orcs, who have time and again been able to rely upon the Keeper's abilities and wisdom. It is they who have grown wise enough to teach newcomers to the Path of Wisdom, helping them, in turn, find their own lot in life.
Sage
The Sages are without a doubt the most experienced Gosh'kar treading upon the Path of Wisdom, second only to the Thur'ruks who lead them. They have proven to be a pillar of the community through the times, known among many of their fellow orcs to have helped out whenever their wisdom or expertise was called upon. The position of the Seer is just so much a position of guidance and authority as it is of reverence and respect, examples for other Gosh'kar to strive for.
Known for their wisdom and experience in all manners of mysticism, the Thur'ruk, or Spirit Speakers, are the clan's spiritual guides in times of both peace and war. They are considered to be the wisest sages among the clan. As such, they are responsible for leading the Path of Wisdom, guiding their fellow Gosh'kar in further search of knowledge and wisdom. They are also the clan's spiritual anchors, responsible for the most important rituals in order to preserve the balance between the clan and the spirits and elements alike.
Both in the times of the old clan as well as the present, it is the Thur'ruk who often serve as the chief advisers of the Wolfking. In addition to this, however, they are responsible for the Gosh'kar that are in their charge, ensuring they never tarry in their never-ending search for wisdom and enlightenment and aiding them in doing so.
#32
Odds & Ends / Re: The Path of Strength
Last post by Kozgugore - March 21, 2021, 10:36:27 PMTraditions, Challenges and Trials
Iron Feast - Traditionally, the Iron Feast was a rite performed before a large campaign. It was both a hunt and a feast. The Nag'Ogar that chose to take part would be sent out to hunt beasts worthy of their honour. Once the hunters had brought in their kill, the blood would be gathered in a bowl and the meat would be put over a fire. Once all hunters had returned, the Nag'Ogar and those from other paths taking part would begin the feast. The hunters would share the tale of their glorious hunt along with other tales of the past being told. The blood would be saved and blessed by a shaman, and upon the clans departure would be smeared onto the Rrosh'tul and Nag'Ogar as a blessing for the coming fight.
Iron Mettle - Being the best warriors the Clan has to offer, it is important that the Nag'Ogar not only stay sharp, but also know one another's strengths and weaknesses. The Iron Mettle occurs once every two moon cycles in place of a regular war training, and differs in the way that it is a way for any Nag'Ogar to challenge one another in whatever field of combat they prefer in order to grant advice and improvement upon one another. A feast will be held, organized by the Rrosh-tul of the Clan, with food and drink aplenty for those who participate.
Ok'Morah - A personal, although usually friendly, challenge issued from one Nag'Ogar to another. The challenger is customarily expected to set the conditions of the challenge, but death or crippling injury is never permitted.
Rite of Scarring - For orcish warriors, each scar they earn in battle is a part of them and their history, bringing them honor or potentially even a story to tell around the campfire. Within the Nag’ogar, however the Rite of Scarring occurs when a Nag’ogar or in some cases even a Rrosh-tul has broken one or more of the tenets, the clan code, or the very core principles of what it means to be a part of the Iron Guard. Should a Battlesworn Nag'Ogar or higher be faced with the Rite of Scarring - something only a Rrosh-tul can judge - they will stand in front of their fellow Nag’Ogar bare-chested and exclaim their failure for all to hear. And so, using the steel dagger they were given when they became Battlesworn, they will leave a scar across from their heart or weapon arm as a reminder and a lesson of their dishonor. Once the Orc has been marked, they are to be forgiven their transgressions, and treated with the same honor as all other Nag’Ogar, assuming the failure is not repeated.
Vrull's Fortitude - Vrull's Fortitude are a series of commonly held competitions within the Path of Strength, open for all to participate in. The competition will often feature an obstacle course with many trials to overcome, which are based upon the conditions of the region it is held within. Not only winners are honored, as there are many different ways to gain the spectators' respect.
Tenets of the Iron Guard
Honour
It is expected of every Nag’ogar to fight with honor, keep to the rules of war and the Code of Akashok. The Nag’ogar are the clans finest warriors, and should in turn serve as an inspiration to their brothers and sisters of the Clan, and as representatives of the clan on the battlefield. Allies and enemies alike will know what they stand for, and that they can expect to be treated with honor. Loyalty and Trust
Loyalty and Trust are paramount for the Nag’ogar. Not just towards the Rrosh-tul, but to their fellow Nag’ogar. A Nag’ogar is expected to share bonds of loyalty and trust with their fellow warriors, and to view their fellow Nag’ogar as brothers and sisters, standing side by side on the field of battle knowing that they are to protect the orcs beside them, just as the orcs beside them protect themselves. Any disagreements or questions of broken loyalty and trust are to be solved, if needed by the help of the Rrosh-tul. Two Nag’ogar who do not share trust and loyalty can not fight in unity.Duty
It is expected of a Nag’ogar to live up to their duty as the shield and blade of the clan, and to do so to the best of their ability. As such they are expected to continuously hone their skills, keep their gear in order and keep a watchful eye when in hostile territory.Courage
A Nag’ogar is expected to be courageous, but not foolhardy, they are expected to stand in front of danger, and not buckle in fear. They are the first and last bastion to defend the clan. Cowardice is not a trait harboured by the Nag’ogar, and any orc who wishes to be counted among their number must steel their hearts and minds, as well as their body. The Nag’ogar must be willing to face down even certain death should it be called for to protect the clan.Duties of the Nag'Ogar
Grunts
- Keep their gear in order, in preparation for any trials that may arise.
- Patrol the clan's current camp in case of threats.
- Continuously hone their skills in preparation for the trials ahead.
Battlesworn
- Keep their gear in order, in preparation for any trials that may arise.
- Patrol the clan's current camp in case of threats.
- Continuously hone their skills in preparation for the trials ahead.
- Patrol the areas surrounding the clan's current camp in the company of other Battlesworn or Grunts.
- Mentor a Grunt in the ways of the Nag'Ogar.
It is important to note that they will not be training said Grunt, instead merely being there as a way to teach them the day-to-day life of the Clan's warriors.
Bloodriders
- Keep their gear as well as their wolves - or with the permission of the Rrosh-tul, alternate mounts - in order, in preparation for any trials that may arise.
- Patrol the clan's current camp in case of threats.
- Continuously hone their skills in preparation for the trials ahead.
- Patrol the areas surrounding the clan's current camp in the company of other Nag'Ogar.
- Mentor and train a Grunt in the ways of the Nag'Ogar.
- Lead small war parties to deal with local, smaller threats to the Clan.
#33
Odds & Ends / Re: The Path of Strength
Last post by Kozgugore - March 21, 2021, 10:36:14 PMPath Progression
Grunt - Trial of Arms completed
Battlesworn - Trial of Fortitude completed
Bloodrider - Trial of Strife completed
Elite - Trial of Command completed
Battlesworn - Trial of Fortitude completed
Bloodrider - Trial of Strife completed
Elite - Trial of Command completed
Reports may be handed in either in-game at the corresponding Elder or via a written IC report. Every final task must be reported at a Clan Meeting. If there are no corresponding Elders available for an extended amount of time, you may report to the Chieftain or another Elder as well.
Trial of Arms Grunt  Strength of Arms Task: Earn your place in the ranks of the Nag’Ogar by sparring with at least three fellow orcs. Victory is not mandatory, but lessons must be learned from the encounter. Use this opportunity to learn of your favoured weapon as well as the Great Spirits of the Clan. Requirement: Casual RP  Weapon of Choice Task: Craft a weapon of your choosing either by your own hand or acquire a skilled orc’s assistance. All materials used must be acquired through honest work and may not be bought with gold. Once forged, the weapon must be blessed by a Gosh’kar or Thur’ruk of the clan to imbue it with the power of one of the clan’s spirits, the elements or any other spirit of your own choosing so long as it does not violate the Code of Akashok. You may host a separate event for this with special action required to forge the weapon, but this is not mandatory. Finally, present the weapon to a Rrosh-tul and describe its forging process and the choices made for each step. Requirement: Casual RP / event and IC report  Reddening of the Blade Task: Find a special opponent you deem worthy enough to ‘redden’ your weapon with, ensuring the weapon has tasted its first blood. Devote the kill to the clan spirit chosen in the previous ritual. Provide a report of your kill and sacrifice at a Clan Meeting. Requirement: Casual RP / event and IC report |
Trial of Fortitude Battlesworn  Ok'Morah Task: Challenge at least three other orcs to different kinds of Ok’Morahs. An Ok’Morah is a personal yet friendly challenge issued between orcs. Each challenge must be different from the other and death or crippling injury is not allowed. Provide a short report of each challenge issued. Requirement: Casual RP and IC report  Iron Feast Task: Organise a hunt alongside at least two or more orcs and, using all the food that you managed to gather, organise a feast for the rest of the clan. Any grand feast also requires a good story to tell, so share a story during the feast as well. Provide a short report of the hunt and feast. Requirement: Casual RP / event and IC report  Vrull's Fortitude Task: Organise the event known as Vrull’s Fortitude: A series of various competitions open for all to participate in. You may decide upon the challenges yourself, but they could for example be an obstacle course, wrestling games, races, and so forth. Find ways to give your own twist to it, but ensure there are at least two different kinds of challenges. Provide a report of the competitions and its winners at a Clan Meeting. Requirement: Event and IC report |
Trial of Strife Bloodrider  Forging a Bond Task: Choose a riding wolf with which to bond and train (exceptions may be made for example for wyverns and kodos, but speak to your Rrosh-tul first). Ensure you understand all there is to know about the species and breed of your chosen mount and master your riding skill with it over the course of time. To ensure the bond is thoroughly forged, host at least one event with two or more orcs in which the bond with your companion will be formed, be it through conflict, ritual or otherwise. To commemorate the bonding, craft a personalized ornament for your mount, such as armour, saddle ornament, bridle, face plate or otherwise. Provide a short report of the event and of your chosen ornament. Requirement: Event and IC report  Mastery of the Lands Task: Continue to hone your bond by taking your mount into the wilderness. Host at least three patrols with two or more orcs to scout the lands or to patrol the roads. Provide a report of each scouting mission or patrol made. Requirement: Casual RP and IC report  Tactical Mastery Task: Apply your newly gained bond and skill in the field. Lead a group of at least four or more orcs on a raiding party from wolfback. Proper application of both skill and strategy must be observed. Provide a report of the raid at a Clan Meeting. Requirement: Event and IC report |
Trial of Command Elite  The Code of Akashok Task: Be an example to your fellow Nag’Ogar by actively maintaining the Clan’s Code of Akashok. This is expected to be done in casual RP, but should also include at least one lesson to the other orcs on the Code itself that touches on at least a couple of the Code’s tenets. Provide a report of the lesson given. Requirement: Casual RP and IC report  Educational Warfare Task: Host at least two different kinds of War Trainings for all orcs of the Clan to participate in. Ensure each training touches on a different kind of subject or tackles a subject in its own, unique way. Provide a report of the results of your training to the Rrosh-tul. Requirement: Event and IC report  Path to Victory Task: Host a small campaign that aims to deal with a threat to the Horde or the Clan. This campaign must consist of at least three or more events. Provide a report of the campaign’s results at a Clan Meeting. Requirement: Campaign and IC report  Trial of Strength Task: The final step to becoming an Elite of the Path of Strength. A Rrosh-tul and Gosh’kar or Thur’ruk will guide you into a spiritually induced journey that has you facing off against past memories or foes to test what you have learned on the Path of Strength. The Code of Akashok must be upheld throughout the trial. Requirement: Officer-led event |
#34
Odds & Ends / The Path of Strength
Last post by Kozgugore - March 21, 2021, 10:36:04 PM¤ Orcish Lore ¤ Orcish Timeline ¤ Red Blade History ¤ Red Blade Culture ¤ Great Spirits ¤ Red Blade Ranks ¤ FAQ ¤
Honor, loyalty, trust, duty and courage. These are the tenets and qualities that the Path of Strength favours. From the early days of the Old World when the warlord Githya Redblade led a brutal campaign throughout the lands with his mercenary company, the name 'Red Blade' had already been a household name which was defined by these very traits. When the warband did eventually reform into a clan, however, it did not lose any of these flavors. Instead, the Path of Strength was founded to provide a specialized branch for all orcs with the ambition to turn the art of war into their profession and to protect those of the clan who could not defend themselves. Throughout the centuries, they were called upon countless of times to serve as the first line of defense against those who would threaten the clan, but also to ride out and bring the fight to their enemies themselves.
Following the tradition of the clan of old, the Path of Strength still stands as the largest branch of the Red Blade clan to this day. Led by their Rrosh-tul, the Nag'Ogar serve as the vanguard of the clan in times of war. While every orc is expected to be able to hold a blade in times of need, those of the Path of Strength are the ones who specialize in specific roles and will be the first choice to carry out the most dangerous and no doubt glorious tasks. As a consequence, orcs committing to the Path of Strength will be expected to keep their blades as well as their skills sharpened at all times, always seeking to perfect their skills as well as to expand their array of abilities. Even in times of peace. For in times of peace, the Path of Strength always prepares for war.
Like any clan of old, the Red Blade clan once possessed its own martial branch to call upon in times of strife and conflict. In the time of the clans, these were the Nag'Ogar: the Iron Warriors. They were each handpicked by the Wolfking himself, found worthy to feast in his great hall and to contest one another with bold challenges.
The Nag'Ogar of today are no different. Each are considered to be among the finest warriors that the clan has to offer and, together, they form the backbone of the Red Blade's martial strength. As such, it takes more than just sheer strength to be counted among the Nag'Ogar's very best. The perfect warrior is not only a fine fighter on the battlefield; they are also expected to function as a single unit, able to work together and tackle the mightiest of challenges in the theater of war. In addition to this, Nag'Ogar may be called upon for a wide variety of tasks, limited not only to the front lines, but also guard duty, patrols, reconnaissance, fortifying the clan's positions as well as other support tasks. As such, the Nag'Ogar come in many shapes and sizes, from the archetypal warrior and the lightly armored raider to even magi and battle shaman.
Ranks of the Nag'Ogar:
Grunt
Every New Blood who has pledged his or her service to the Path of Strength, will always start out as a Grunt - the term for the most standard of warriors within the Horde. No matter the past experience in the Horde military or in other mercenary work, every orc is expected to prove to their Rrosh-tul whether they have what it takes to not only master the basic fighting techniques, but also to work together in a unit of Nag'Ogar. While not yet a fully fledged member of the Path of Strength, they are expected to try their hardest to keep up with the rest and prove that they are up to the challenges that the Path will provide them.
Battlesworn
The Battlesworn are the backbone of the Nag'Ogar's ranks: the fully trained and qualified members of the Path of Strength who have shown that they have what it takes to be a reliable warrior for the clan. They represent everything that a traditional Nag'Ogar is supposed to stand for, having mastered all the basics that a warrior of the clan is expected to know.
Bloodrider
Seated high and mighty atop their dire wolves, the Bloodriders not only strike an imposing figure, but are also a highly mobile unit. In times of peace, they serve as scouts and specialize in tracking or patrolling the lands. In times of war, they serve as cavalry and pursue the enemies of the clan. Every Bloodrider's bond with their wolf is a special one, trained to have fight together as a single entity.
Elite
The Elite are the mightiest warriors that the Nag'Ogar have to offer. Through years of experience, they have time and again shown that they never hesitate to put their lives on the line for the clan's honor and safety. They are second only to the Rrosh-tul themselves, even serving as a second in command should the need arise, and stand as a textbook example of what every Nag'Ogar should strive to become. As such, they take it upon themselves to help guide the younger warriors, showing them the ropes and, much like the Rrosh-tul, ensure that they do not slack or grow complacent.
As the numbers within Clan Redblade grew, so too did their army. With the increasing amount of Nag'Ogar, the need arose to train more of these orcs, as well as to guide them in the field of battle. Inspired by the legendary warriors of old, the Rrosh-tul, the Blood Guard, rose up to be the link between the Chieftain and the Nag'Ogar on the battlefield. Carrying out his exact orders, they would make sure the warriors ended up where they were meant to be, and cut their way through the enemy's ranks under the Rrosh-tul's watchful guidance. After all, it was not martial skill alone that decided the outcome of the battlefield. Even the most skilled warriors require guidance, leadership and inspiration.
Whether a master tactician or a renowned fighter and leader, the Rrosh-tul have been hand-picked by the Chieftain and are trusted to lead his orcs into battle when the need arises. However, even outside of the battlefield does a Rrosh-tul's labor continue. It is the Rrosh-tul's charge to ensure that the Nag'Ogar serving underneath them continue to perfect their skills, training them in all manners of warfare and seeking to bring the best out of every single one of them.
#35
Off Topic / Re: RL photos of yourself!
Last post by Uron - March 16, 2021, 06:17:57 AMAnd here is I the great...well....grunt. Long time no see, i may be lost but i remember one of the two rp-guilds i really enjoyed rp-ing. Have fun fellas and remeber when in doubt go "For the Yarrr!".
#36
The Campfire / Re: Campaign: Shadows Over Sha...
Last post by Verzan - March 10, 2021, 11:51:39 PMShadowlands Campaign: The Blighted Land
Chieftain led the hunt through the wondrous forest of Ardenweald, it had been chosen that we would hunt for a creature blighted already by the magic of the Drust. Rumors from Matriarch Longhand suggested there were huge toads at one corner of the fen who had become violent and aggressive toward the citizens of the forest and though many did not directly want to end the lives of the beasts without need - our need tonight was serious. With time against us we had to act, there was no other way and at least we would remove another Drust threat from the area.
So we hunted for the giant angry toads and it was not too long before the forest song became that of toady chorus and flowing water. As hunt leader the Chieftain stalked ahead to confirm what lay ahead. The rest of the orcs waited in the nearby hedges and tall plants when suddenly there came a cry-- ‘Get over here! We got ourselves a big one!’
The hunting party dashed up the hill to a sight few orcs could believe.
Many simply stared slack jawed for a moment as before their eyes the Chieftain appeared to straddle the back of an enormous leaping toad. This creature was easily as large at the shoulder as a clefthoof and just as wide, seeming grafted to its face was a wooden mask and upon its back a flailing Chieftain being bucked and thrown around like a dashing Wolfking cloak, though he did not release his grasp of the creature.
The huge beast stampeded toward the Red Blade, smashing through the group in several frenzied bounds and fighting followed in its wake. Hunters shot arrows, avoiding hits against their own Chieftain while melee combatants splashed into the shallows of a sparkling stream. In the next moment the creature was thrashing orcs with its tongue, its rampage quite a bit less humorous than it had seemed at first glance. The bruises were very real and the danger.
When suddenly the New Blood Drastal Halfbuk kicks off. Realising what is to become of the toad too late to change its fate, he loudly protests the creature becoming a sacrifice for an evil ritual to fetch the clan to the realm of the Drust. Believing in his core that there had to be another way only to be firmly corrected by the orcs about him that there were no other choices.
The fighting continues as does the argument. Halfbuk is told the mask upon the toads face has sealed its fate, it is a dangerous creature here in Ardenweald. It has to be put down one way or another. It just happens to be useful to the clan at this time.
As this happens a combined effort of unholy magic and melee aggression binds the toad to the spot. The orcs quickly swarm to grab it and take it down. Enrah the deathwalker grabbing its tongue as Rykana Skywise fires a wyvern sting poisoned arrow into the limb seeming to paralyze it, allowing the Ebon Knight to wide it in like rope before finishing the beast with a killing blow to the eye.
---
The orcs moved its body to the shore and began to prepare their own version of the ritual circle the Drust had created around the night fae’s corpse mere nights ago. It was a grim business as the collected animal bones were scattered and dark runic markings painted around the circle under the direction of the deathwalker Enrah. She had spent the time preparing and could now put the work into dark practice - even the deathwalker seemed to dislike the Drust magic.
The toad's belly was ripped open by the runeblade as the markings upon the ground glew vivid cyan, fuelled by anima power from Matriarch Longhand. Eerie and dark the ritual was primitive and bloody even if the words spoken were of duty and bold threats against those who would endanger the great spirits of the clan.
At its climax the Enrah sought more power but Longhand kept the deathwalker’s hunger in check and the stream of anima steady so as not to disrupt the portal's opening. It opens slowly pooling like black treacle around the corpse of the disemboweled beast.
A dark gateway to ‘Thros’, the nightmare realm of the Drust.
Heroically the clan passed through the portal.
---
Darkness engulfed the orcs, thick black darkness that let you feel your footsteps before you but removed every hint of direction. The only certainty that came with every step taken was that it was one further away from the serenity of Ardenweald.
As dim grey light finally met each orcs face, we knew that we had arrived in the land of nightmares. A faint mist clug about our knees and the plant life seemed stuck in a twilight of autumnal hues and lingering decay. Gnarled trees hung overhead and the faintest hint of amber sunlight fought to get through their canopy.
Effigies and nooses hung from their branches like warning totems against any who might set foot in this cursed landscape. Even the air itself was heavy with an earthy scented oppressive aura, constantly pressing against each orcs mind as they stepped onwards.
We had arrived but we had no trail though many could recall the visions of Sharguul running through this forest, being attacked by the Drust and bleeding. Trackers took point ahead of the group searching for signs of this battle while others guarded their backs, casting a cautious eye over the nearby forest floor. Nothing felt safe here, distant calls sounded between the trees and none could be sure if they were animal, bird or monstrosity.
It did not take long before the orcs located a set of torn apart bodies and then another set. Each seeming to paint a story of plant monsters attacking a beast that would rip them to pieces if they fell within its jaws. Sharguul.
---
The trail continued and orcs followed it in earnest, passing under black twisted branches and cawing raven calls before rounding a corner and appearing by a strange site. Rune carved pillars of stone stood like guardians over a gristly altar marked bloody with sacrifice and ritual. A still wet knife had been discarded next to human remains, even though the magic was fading it seemed worthy of the orcs' notice and drew them in like moths.
No sooner had we approached than suddenly, from the earth around us, twisted willowy plant-like constructs emerged. Already alert many were not caught off guard though and quickly moved to dispatch these hexed monsters before they even got to their feet. The ambush had failed to fool the Red Blade.
Through the mist many orcs reported hearing voices, some louder than others and familiar and though the Varog’gor Throatrender warned them her warnings fell upon deaf ears as some dashed toward the noise. Scaling the slope of a nearby leafy hill and rushing down the otherside into an eerie forest basin below.
Boots splash into dark water shrouded by the mist at the bottom. Shadows lurk under the bows of an enormous gnarled old tree growing fatly around another stone altar that sits at the middle of the basin. Focus is not upon the tree but a message each orc hears. Friends, loved ones, family. Each vision is unique to those who can see it. Tugging at the heart as it manipulates those listening to lower their guard. Then ambush again!
Willowy creatures made of wicker and spite grab for each orc, wrestling them into the waters or dirt the top of the slope. Grabbing for their faces to force a Drust mask upon them.
Some are not so easily fooled, their loved ones speaking words that make no sense and the ambush fails as they lash out at the creatures, dispatching them quickly but others are thrown into the waters completely unprepared. Half drowning and pushing up to escape right into the incoming facial coverings.
Karak Stormsong, wearing his sorrow like armour, is taken quickly by the monsters, a mask thrown over his face that none can stop, even with the efforts of Throatrenders arrows to try and halt it. A narrow miss that cut his cheek but could not save him from the madness the mask inflicted. Alone, Karak stands dripping in fetid waters, he lashes out striking his son and hurling the boy away before violently attacking the nearest orc, Throatrender, with fury as he seems to lose his mind and the mask takes hold.
For a moment it seems the clan will fall, too many becoming overpowered by monsters and then just as quickly as hope was lost those who were quick to shrug away their manipulators rallied to save the others, the giant Thronk leaping up the hill to save both Felhammer and Skywise. Even Shrewd rushed to save the ancestor Matriarch Longhand.
It had been close, perhaps a little too close.
---
Fighting now seemed inevitable for every step taken in this realm of Nightmares, as the orcs secure Karak before he could hurt any more. Halfbuk tries to fix him but it seems impossible. Perhaps he was too far gone? And many braced for the terrors that would come next.
They were not waiting long before being greeted by the sounds of another nearby conflict and then the loud and piercing howl of a wolf not too far away. Could this be who they are searching for or simply another illusion preying upon their hearts desires.
They hurry onwards through the murk and before them the unmistakable sight of a Great Spirit can be seen. Taller than any natural wolf in the realms of the living, incorporeal and shadowy in nature. Its fur seemingly black yet spectral. It was Sharguul and he was fighting yet, as the orcs rushed toward him, he made a tactical retreat moving away retreating deeper into the forest.
Following at a pace the Red Blade continue to fight the wicker pursuers, cutting them down with flame, axe and blade. Holding nothing back as they advance toward Sharguul, who himself seems to take down two or three of his attackers, before it seems the willowy monsters realise the futility of their efforts and retreat back into the dark woods all around.
There is a moment of peace and the blackfur takes a moment to catch his breath. He is bloodied and weakened by the relentless attacks seeming no less appreciative of the Red Blades sudden arrival.
Many orcs explain the situation to him as young Keshrakk steps forward clutching the scarlet coloured amulet the orcs had chosen from the Broker E’on. The child holds it out and the magic within seems to take effect, swirling brightly around Sharguul to mend his wounds and revitalise the spirit.
Power restored somewhat, Sharguul bids the orcs his gratitude for the rescue, approving of their resilience against the harshness of the nightmare realm and then laying eyes upon Karak, who had perhaps fared the worst. Manhandled by the Chieftain to be deposited in front of the great spirit, it seemed Sharguul had strength now to aid him. Using his magic to destroy and remove the mask that twisted Karak’s mind, freeing him of the Drust curse before it could fully consume him.
---
With all of the orcs mended, Sharguul spoke with them at length...
“This is a realm of nightmare. Of horrors made manifest. This one has never lived, so this one has never learned what it is like to have dreams or nightmares. For you, however… this place preys upon your deepest fears and doubts.
This one does not know how much time has passed since this one has been pulled into this realm. It feels like this one has been fighting back against their hunt for aeons now. Ever attempting to elude their efforts to overwhelm...chased around in circles.
These beasts -the Drust- they have been draining and taking the wild spirits from Ardenweald to empower themselves. So too did they seek to overcome this one.
They are usually not able to operate beyond their realm like this. Someone - or something - must be aiding them to grant them this influence. But this one does not know who or what. This one cannot pierce the veil of this realm after they have sought to bait this one with the souls of Red Blades of the past.
So many realms traversed and perils faced to come to this one's side. It is humbling, given this one’s nature. This one wishes it did not need to come to this but its gratitude is nonetheless great for each and everyone of you.
This one has ensured all of the Red Blade have been taken from this realm and all that remains is us. Now we may fight back to escape this realm for good. But first. We must gather your strength for now. We may set up camp here to recover and this one shall remain by your side. When we are prepared this one shall conjure up the strength to get us all out of this realm.â€
And once the wolf had spoken the orcs were led to a nearby hidden nook.
It would be safe for a short rest, he would hold back the mists and monsters for a time, obscuring the orcs before they would next be able to move out. Though it was clear very few found any rest at all, even under Sharguul’s protection.
--Anon--
Chieftain led the hunt through the wondrous forest of Ardenweald, it had been chosen that we would hunt for a creature blighted already by the magic of the Drust. Rumors from Matriarch Longhand suggested there were huge toads at one corner of the fen who had become violent and aggressive toward the citizens of the forest and though many did not directly want to end the lives of the beasts without need - our need tonight was serious. With time against us we had to act, there was no other way and at least we would remove another Drust threat from the area.
So we hunted for the giant angry toads and it was not too long before the forest song became that of toady chorus and flowing water. As hunt leader the Chieftain stalked ahead to confirm what lay ahead. The rest of the orcs waited in the nearby hedges and tall plants when suddenly there came a cry-- ‘Get over here! We got ourselves a big one!’
The hunting party dashed up the hill to a sight few orcs could believe.
Many simply stared slack jawed for a moment as before their eyes the Chieftain appeared to straddle the back of an enormous leaping toad. This creature was easily as large at the shoulder as a clefthoof and just as wide, seeming grafted to its face was a wooden mask and upon its back a flailing Chieftain being bucked and thrown around like a dashing Wolfking cloak, though he did not release his grasp of the creature.
The huge beast stampeded toward the Red Blade, smashing through the group in several frenzied bounds and fighting followed in its wake. Hunters shot arrows, avoiding hits against their own Chieftain while melee combatants splashed into the shallows of a sparkling stream. In the next moment the creature was thrashing orcs with its tongue, its rampage quite a bit less humorous than it had seemed at first glance. The bruises were very real and the danger.
When suddenly the New Blood Drastal Halfbuk kicks off. Realising what is to become of the toad too late to change its fate, he loudly protests the creature becoming a sacrifice for an evil ritual to fetch the clan to the realm of the Drust. Believing in his core that there had to be another way only to be firmly corrected by the orcs about him that there were no other choices.
The fighting continues as does the argument. Halfbuk is told the mask upon the toads face has sealed its fate, it is a dangerous creature here in Ardenweald. It has to be put down one way or another. It just happens to be useful to the clan at this time.
As this happens a combined effort of unholy magic and melee aggression binds the toad to the spot. The orcs quickly swarm to grab it and take it down. Enrah the deathwalker grabbing its tongue as Rykana Skywise fires a wyvern sting poisoned arrow into the limb seeming to paralyze it, allowing the Ebon Knight to wide it in like rope before finishing the beast with a killing blow to the eye.
---
The orcs moved its body to the shore and began to prepare their own version of the ritual circle the Drust had created around the night fae’s corpse mere nights ago. It was a grim business as the collected animal bones were scattered and dark runic markings painted around the circle under the direction of the deathwalker Enrah. She had spent the time preparing and could now put the work into dark practice - even the deathwalker seemed to dislike the Drust magic.
The toad's belly was ripped open by the runeblade as the markings upon the ground glew vivid cyan, fuelled by anima power from Matriarch Longhand. Eerie and dark the ritual was primitive and bloody even if the words spoken were of duty and bold threats against those who would endanger the great spirits of the clan.
At its climax the Enrah sought more power but Longhand kept the deathwalker’s hunger in check and the stream of anima steady so as not to disrupt the portal's opening. It opens slowly pooling like black treacle around the corpse of the disemboweled beast.
A dark gateway to ‘Thros’, the nightmare realm of the Drust.
Heroically the clan passed through the portal.
---
Darkness engulfed the orcs, thick black darkness that let you feel your footsteps before you but removed every hint of direction. The only certainty that came with every step taken was that it was one further away from the serenity of Ardenweald.
As dim grey light finally met each orcs face, we knew that we had arrived in the land of nightmares. A faint mist clug about our knees and the plant life seemed stuck in a twilight of autumnal hues and lingering decay. Gnarled trees hung overhead and the faintest hint of amber sunlight fought to get through their canopy.
Effigies and nooses hung from their branches like warning totems against any who might set foot in this cursed landscape. Even the air itself was heavy with an earthy scented oppressive aura, constantly pressing against each orcs mind as they stepped onwards.
We had arrived but we had no trail though many could recall the visions of Sharguul running through this forest, being attacked by the Drust and bleeding. Trackers took point ahead of the group searching for signs of this battle while others guarded their backs, casting a cautious eye over the nearby forest floor. Nothing felt safe here, distant calls sounded between the trees and none could be sure if they were animal, bird or monstrosity.
It did not take long before the orcs located a set of torn apart bodies and then another set. Each seeming to paint a story of plant monsters attacking a beast that would rip them to pieces if they fell within its jaws. Sharguul.
---
The trail continued and orcs followed it in earnest, passing under black twisted branches and cawing raven calls before rounding a corner and appearing by a strange site. Rune carved pillars of stone stood like guardians over a gristly altar marked bloody with sacrifice and ritual. A still wet knife had been discarded next to human remains, even though the magic was fading it seemed worthy of the orcs' notice and drew them in like moths.
No sooner had we approached than suddenly, from the earth around us, twisted willowy plant-like constructs emerged. Already alert many were not caught off guard though and quickly moved to dispatch these hexed monsters before they even got to their feet. The ambush had failed to fool the Red Blade.
Through the mist many orcs reported hearing voices, some louder than others and familiar and though the Varog’gor Throatrender warned them her warnings fell upon deaf ears as some dashed toward the noise. Scaling the slope of a nearby leafy hill and rushing down the otherside into an eerie forest basin below.
Boots splash into dark water shrouded by the mist at the bottom. Shadows lurk under the bows of an enormous gnarled old tree growing fatly around another stone altar that sits at the middle of the basin. Focus is not upon the tree but a message each orc hears. Friends, loved ones, family. Each vision is unique to those who can see it. Tugging at the heart as it manipulates those listening to lower their guard. Then ambush again!
Willowy creatures made of wicker and spite grab for each orc, wrestling them into the waters or dirt the top of the slope. Grabbing for their faces to force a Drust mask upon them.
Some are not so easily fooled, their loved ones speaking words that make no sense and the ambush fails as they lash out at the creatures, dispatching them quickly but others are thrown into the waters completely unprepared. Half drowning and pushing up to escape right into the incoming facial coverings.
Karak Stormsong, wearing his sorrow like armour, is taken quickly by the monsters, a mask thrown over his face that none can stop, even with the efforts of Throatrenders arrows to try and halt it. A narrow miss that cut his cheek but could not save him from the madness the mask inflicted. Alone, Karak stands dripping in fetid waters, he lashes out striking his son and hurling the boy away before violently attacking the nearest orc, Throatrender, with fury as he seems to lose his mind and the mask takes hold.
For a moment it seems the clan will fall, too many becoming overpowered by monsters and then just as quickly as hope was lost those who were quick to shrug away their manipulators rallied to save the others, the giant Thronk leaping up the hill to save both Felhammer and Skywise. Even Shrewd rushed to save the ancestor Matriarch Longhand.
It had been close, perhaps a little too close.
---
Fighting now seemed inevitable for every step taken in this realm of Nightmares, as the orcs secure Karak before he could hurt any more. Halfbuk tries to fix him but it seems impossible. Perhaps he was too far gone? And many braced for the terrors that would come next.
They were not waiting long before being greeted by the sounds of another nearby conflict and then the loud and piercing howl of a wolf not too far away. Could this be who they are searching for or simply another illusion preying upon their hearts desires.
They hurry onwards through the murk and before them the unmistakable sight of a Great Spirit can be seen. Taller than any natural wolf in the realms of the living, incorporeal and shadowy in nature. Its fur seemingly black yet spectral. It was Sharguul and he was fighting yet, as the orcs rushed toward him, he made a tactical retreat moving away retreating deeper into the forest.
Following at a pace the Red Blade continue to fight the wicker pursuers, cutting them down with flame, axe and blade. Holding nothing back as they advance toward Sharguul, who himself seems to take down two or three of his attackers, before it seems the willowy monsters realise the futility of their efforts and retreat back into the dark woods all around.
There is a moment of peace and the blackfur takes a moment to catch his breath. He is bloodied and weakened by the relentless attacks seeming no less appreciative of the Red Blades sudden arrival.
Many orcs explain the situation to him as young Keshrakk steps forward clutching the scarlet coloured amulet the orcs had chosen from the Broker E’on. The child holds it out and the magic within seems to take effect, swirling brightly around Sharguul to mend his wounds and revitalise the spirit.
Power restored somewhat, Sharguul bids the orcs his gratitude for the rescue, approving of their resilience against the harshness of the nightmare realm and then laying eyes upon Karak, who had perhaps fared the worst. Manhandled by the Chieftain to be deposited in front of the great spirit, it seemed Sharguul had strength now to aid him. Using his magic to destroy and remove the mask that twisted Karak’s mind, freeing him of the Drust curse before it could fully consume him.
---
With all of the orcs mended, Sharguul spoke with them at length...
“This is a realm of nightmare. Of horrors made manifest. This one has never lived, so this one has never learned what it is like to have dreams or nightmares. For you, however… this place preys upon your deepest fears and doubts.
This one does not know how much time has passed since this one has been pulled into this realm. It feels like this one has been fighting back against their hunt for aeons now. Ever attempting to elude their efforts to overwhelm...chased around in circles.
These beasts -the Drust- they have been draining and taking the wild spirits from Ardenweald to empower themselves. So too did they seek to overcome this one.
They are usually not able to operate beyond their realm like this. Someone - or something - must be aiding them to grant them this influence. But this one does not know who or what. This one cannot pierce the veil of this realm after they have sought to bait this one with the souls of Red Blades of the past.
So many realms traversed and perils faced to come to this one's side. It is humbling, given this one’s nature. This one wishes it did not need to come to this but its gratitude is nonetheless great for each and everyone of you.
This one has ensured all of the Red Blade have been taken from this realm and all that remains is us. Now we may fight back to escape this realm for good. But first. We must gather your strength for now. We may set up camp here to recover and this one shall remain by your side. When we are prepared this one shall conjure up the strength to get us all out of this realm.â€
And once the wolf had spoken the orcs were led to a nearby hidden nook.
It would be safe for a short rest, he would hold back the mists and monsters for a time, obscuring the orcs before they would next be able to move out. Though it was clear very few found any rest at all, even under Sharguul’s protection.
--Anon--
#37
The Campfire / Re: Campaign: Shadows Over Sha...
Last post by Verzan - March 09, 2021, 08:06:47 PMShadowlands Campaign: A night at the Theatre?
After all we had been through in the lands of Maldraxxus it was hard to believe what Matriarch Longhand was saying when she invited us to the Star Lake Amphitheatre. Really? A night to watch actors tell us stories, a chance to armour off and be entertained by the natives of Ardenweald.
It was a welcome piece of respite. Though few orcs dressed down for the occasion, it seemed only Karak Stormsong had thought to fetch his silks and formal attire to the shadowlands at all. It was no less welcome by all, as we headed from the casual bar where only a night or so previous we had been speaking with the Astral Order, through the crowds and claimed ourselves a prominent seating arrangement toward the middle center.
The stage was an open amphitheatre wreathed in long willow strands of blue leafed vines that tickled the tops of the tallest orcs heads. The furniture was carved timbers and wood, seeming to still be growing despite its new role as table and chair. The stage itself was illuminated by a great many dancing lights, as if tenders had trained the bioluminescent plants to focus their glow where it was needed most.
--
Slowly they twinkled and illuminated the stage before us, there was a hush of the audience. The show had begun, the stage was transformed by magical illusion and clever prop placement and before our eyes we saw a disturbingly familiar scene. Bones rattled the floor of the stage as a single goat-person stood heavily armoured in a wood, wielding a crystalline halberd. He remains at the center of the stage despite walking, his surroundings changing about him.
When a narrator's voice booms loudly for all to hear ‘We follow our brave hero of the Wild Hunt, who has found himself lost in the nightmarish realm of those terrorising the Weald, having valiantly chased after the evil-doers who have been defiling our groves!’
Though many were watching the show and listening to the rather pertinent story of the night, there seemed to be other noises carried between the bows of the twilight trees. The sound of fighting, was this part of the story being told?
It seemed to coincide with the hero on the stage beginning to fight and cut down a number of twisted tree creatures that appear with masterful puffs of purple smoke for him to cut down. The narrator spoke again ‘But long has he walked, seemingly in circles… Many has he slain, but greatly does he now tire!. Mighty in physical strength is he but magical he is not. Through his foes own dark rituals does he return to the Weald, ready to bring retribution?’
What was this story suggesting?
The hero drops into a crouch and now sneaks along through the dark woods depicted upon the stage, he approaches a group of tree creatures guarding what appears to be an open portal. He chops them into fire wood with several dramatic thrusts and the lights grow dim.
When the lights return the stage has changed before our eyes, illusionary scenery has changed to show the forest as the main hero stumbles out of a portal, above the slain body of another creature. All about him upon the stage is fighting, he has emerged out into a battle as the masked ones attack the Wild Hunt defenders.
‘Finding himself in the midst of ongoing battle, our brave hero leaps into the fray, cutting down those who would bring us harm for their own gain!’ the narrator speaks again, the hero upon the stage matching the spoken words with flourishes of skill and violence against their enemies.
Again the sounds of battle are couriered to us by the gentle breeze. There is fighting upon the stage for certain but we are orcs and fighting is in our blood, the sounds coming our way seemed a little too real to be a performance surely?
‘Pressed on all sides our hero and his allies fend off the attackers with zeal’ the Narrator speaks and the orcs are calmed for a moment, even as the performance expands into the nearby crowd. An action that seems to come quite the surprise to those watching as if it isn't normal but they accept it as a new spicey addition to the show, feigning fear and rescuing their mid show beverages.
Lights are hurriedly shone upon the fighting in the audience. As if those controlling them were unprepared and yet the show must go on.
--
Fighting continues within the theatre as those upon the stage defeat their opponents in gloriously flamboyant shows of skill, yet those who fight among the crowd are less victorious. Their mashed enemies seem to be pressing heavily toward the crowd. The two depictions do not seem to match up?
Gatran Felhammer gets up from his seat and begins to weave through the crowd politely to try and investigate what is going on while Thronk, confused by this mismatching performance, picks up a smooth blue pebble from the ground and hurls it at the masked fighters. His rock hits and the ‘actor’ collapses to the floor, their head split open and bleeding.
Stormsong scolds the giant ‘Now you’ve killed an actor! We’re going to get kicked out!’ he shouts angrily. There is a terrible gasp from the audience, a gasp that wasn’t supposed to be there yet - those on the stage pause to peer at what is happening.
Actual murderous violence is happening as those among the crowds seem to have been discovered and begin to lash out at the crowds. The Audience up sticks and begin to panic, numerous night fae begin to try and escape the invaders and crowd toward the western side of the Ampitheatre.
While the orcs and defenders seem to have other plans.
Rykana Skywise calls for the orcs to arm themselves and make ready for battle. As the surge of panicked audience members begin to push past them buffeting the orcs and knocking Halfbuk over.
Enrah pushes into the crowd and snatches one of the attackers from assaulting an audience member with a death grip, hurling them toward her and knocking several escaping patrons over in the process. The Ebon Knight holds the squirming goat-person aloft, warning the other orcs that the mask this one wears is real, it is bathed in the magic of death.
With the weapons the orcs have they engage the enemy, taking them down with a flurry of ranged attacks as the audience clears out through the western exit. But they do not hold in the stands, hurriedly the Red Blade rush to the eastern exit from the Amphitheatre. Stepping over the bodies of the fallen and moving toward where the sounds of conflict continue.
A dozen or so masked raiders assault the Wild Hunt guards on the outside of the amphitheatre and as quickly as the orcs got to the eastern exit they ran again back into the fighting to aid the Wild Hunt. Enrah and Thronk charged into the melee while the rest threw ranged attacks at the enemy.
The barrage of unholy magic, arrows, axes and blade turned the fight and the Wild Hunt finished off their attackers. Though bloodied it seemed most had made it through the battle and their Captain paused to speak with the orcs. Explaining that they had been chasing the raiders all the way from the Fenn, they would never have stopped them getting into the Amphitheater if it had not been for the orcs cutting them off.
The Captain seemed weary, attacks had been on the increase becoming more bold and close to the heart of the forest. This was simply one of many bold attacks they were facing, he could not even fault the orcs who had believed them to be performers. Even Matriarch Longhand seemed to scold herself inwardly for not realising the situation within Ardenweald itself.
Skywise asked the captain if the Red Blade could investigate further the site at the Fenn where the masked raiders had come from. The Captain agreed but warned the orcs they were to see a grisly sight.
--
The walk was long and uneventful, discussions focused on the information the Astral Order had told the orcs. Were the masked ones creatures known as ‘Drust’, they did not have answers. Here and there along the trail were the bodies of the unlucky who had stood in the way of the raid.
When close to Dreamsong Fenn the Captain called a halt. Before the orcs lay the ruined remains of one of the winged night fae. She had been disemboweled much like the fae had been in the vision the orcs had seen. Cold dead eyes peering lifelessly upwards into the twilight trees. Surrounded by a circle of runes and other small ritualistic fetishes of grisly construction.
‘Through those they slay they perform their rites and open gateways to their realm. They used this settlement as a staging ground to open a number of portals and it was a mere stepping stone for their attack upon the theatre, I am sure you can imagine what would have happened had they reached the audience you were part of’ The Captain added darkly before granting the Red Blade the opportunity to remain in the area now it was secure.
As he left, Enrah began to examine the body of one of the fallen, taking note of runic markings and discussing what needed to be done with Matriarch Longhand.
The Deathwalker seemed certain she could use the runes and grisly ritual again with her unholy magic, repurposing the enemies portal gateway to allow the clan to pass through into the realm of the Drust, just like the hero had in the play we had watched that very night. It would be a grim feat but necessary, though she would need a sacrifice much like they had used to power the gateway.
Longhand was quick to suggest an alternative to night fae the Drust had gutted, offering the idea of hunting one of the greater beasts that roamed within the forest - this seemed to give the orcs some sense of direction.
We would hunt a great beast of the Forest of Ardenweald, utilising it in an unholy ritual that would open a gateway through to the nightmare realm of the Drust. There we would surely find the trail of blood from Sharguul’s wounds that would lead us to him and ultimately to his rescue from these masked terrors.
Our mission here finally seemed to be drawing toward its final battle.
We can only hope we reach Sharguul in time.
--Anon--
After all we had been through in the lands of Maldraxxus it was hard to believe what Matriarch Longhand was saying when she invited us to the Star Lake Amphitheatre. Really? A night to watch actors tell us stories, a chance to armour off and be entertained by the natives of Ardenweald.
It was a welcome piece of respite. Though few orcs dressed down for the occasion, it seemed only Karak Stormsong had thought to fetch his silks and formal attire to the shadowlands at all. It was no less welcome by all, as we headed from the casual bar where only a night or so previous we had been speaking with the Astral Order, through the crowds and claimed ourselves a prominent seating arrangement toward the middle center.
The stage was an open amphitheatre wreathed in long willow strands of blue leafed vines that tickled the tops of the tallest orcs heads. The furniture was carved timbers and wood, seeming to still be growing despite its new role as table and chair. The stage itself was illuminated by a great many dancing lights, as if tenders had trained the bioluminescent plants to focus their glow where it was needed most.
--
Slowly they twinkled and illuminated the stage before us, there was a hush of the audience. The show had begun, the stage was transformed by magical illusion and clever prop placement and before our eyes we saw a disturbingly familiar scene. Bones rattled the floor of the stage as a single goat-person stood heavily armoured in a wood, wielding a crystalline halberd. He remains at the center of the stage despite walking, his surroundings changing about him.
When a narrator's voice booms loudly for all to hear ‘We follow our brave hero of the Wild Hunt, who has found himself lost in the nightmarish realm of those terrorising the Weald, having valiantly chased after the evil-doers who have been defiling our groves!’
Though many were watching the show and listening to the rather pertinent story of the night, there seemed to be other noises carried between the bows of the twilight trees. The sound of fighting, was this part of the story being told?
It seemed to coincide with the hero on the stage beginning to fight and cut down a number of twisted tree creatures that appear with masterful puffs of purple smoke for him to cut down. The narrator spoke again ‘But long has he walked, seemingly in circles… Many has he slain, but greatly does he now tire!. Mighty in physical strength is he but magical he is not. Through his foes own dark rituals does he return to the Weald, ready to bring retribution?’
What was this story suggesting?
The hero drops into a crouch and now sneaks along through the dark woods depicted upon the stage, he approaches a group of tree creatures guarding what appears to be an open portal. He chops them into fire wood with several dramatic thrusts and the lights grow dim.
When the lights return the stage has changed before our eyes, illusionary scenery has changed to show the forest as the main hero stumbles out of a portal, above the slain body of another creature. All about him upon the stage is fighting, he has emerged out into a battle as the masked ones attack the Wild Hunt defenders.
‘Finding himself in the midst of ongoing battle, our brave hero leaps into the fray, cutting down those who would bring us harm for their own gain!’ the narrator speaks again, the hero upon the stage matching the spoken words with flourishes of skill and violence against their enemies.
Again the sounds of battle are couriered to us by the gentle breeze. There is fighting upon the stage for certain but we are orcs and fighting is in our blood, the sounds coming our way seemed a little too real to be a performance surely?
‘Pressed on all sides our hero and his allies fend off the attackers with zeal’ the Narrator speaks and the orcs are calmed for a moment, even as the performance expands into the nearby crowd. An action that seems to come quite the surprise to those watching as if it isn't normal but they accept it as a new spicey addition to the show, feigning fear and rescuing their mid show beverages.
Lights are hurriedly shone upon the fighting in the audience. As if those controlling them were unprepared and yet the show must go on.
--
Fighting continues within the theatre as those upon the stage defeat their opponents in gloriously flamboyant shows of skill, yet those who fight among the crowd are less victorious. Their mashed enemies seem to be pressing heavily toward the crowd. The two depictions do not seem to match up?
Gatran Felhammer gets up from his seat and begins to weave through the crowd politely to try and investigate what is going on while Thronk, confused by this mismatching performance, picks up a smooth blue pebble from the ground and hurls it at the masked fighters. His rock hits and the ‘actor’ collapses to the floor, their head split open and bleeding.
Stormsong scolds the giant ‘Now you’ve killed an actor! We’re going to get kicked out!’ he shouts angrily. There is a terrible gasp from the audience, a gasp that wasn’t supposed to be there yet - those on the stage pause to peer at what is happening.
Actual murderous violence is happening as those among the crowds seem to have been discovered and begin to lash out at the crowds. The Audience up sticks and begin to panic, numerous night fae begin to try and escape the invaders and crowd toward the western side of the Ampitheatre.
While the orcs and defenders seem to have other plans.
Rykana Skywise calls for the orcs to arm themselves and make ready for battle. As the surge of panicked audience members begin to push past them buffeting the orcs and knocking Halfbuk over.
Enrah pushes into the crowd and snatches one of the attackers from assaulting an audience member with a death grip, hurling them toward her and knocking several escaping patrons over in the process. The Ebon Knight holds the squirming goat-person aloft, warning the other orcs that the mask this one wears is real, it is bathed in the magic of death.
With the weapons the orcs have they engage the enemy, taking them down with a flurry of ranged attacks as the audience clears out through the western exit. But they do not hold in the stands, hurriedly the Red Blade rush to the eastern exit from the Amphitheatre. Stepping over the bodies of the fallen and moving toward where the sounds of conflict continue.
A dozen or so masked raiders assault the Wild Hunt guards on the outside of the amphitheatre and as quickly as the orcs got to the eastern exit they ran again back into the fighting to aid the Wild Hunt. Enrah and Thronk charged into the melee while the rest threw ranged attacks at the enemy.
The barrage of unholy magic, arrows, axes and blade turned the fight and the Wild Hunt finished off their attackers. Though bloodied it seemed most had made it through the battle and their Captain paused to speak with the orcs. Explaining that they had been chasing the raiders all the way from the Fenn, they would never have stopped them getting into the Amphitheater if it had not been for the orcs cutting them off.
The Captain seemed weary, attacks had been on the increase becoming more bold and close to the heart of the forest. This was simply one of many bold attacks they were facing, he could not even fault the orcs who had believed them to be performers. Even Matriarch Longhand seemed to scold herself inwardly for not realising the situation within Ardenweald itself.
Skywise asked the captain if the Red Blade could investigate further the site at the Fenn where the masked raiders had come from. The Captain agreed but warned the orcs they were to see a grisly sight.
--
The walk was long and uneventful, discussions focused on the information the Astral Order had told the orcs. Were the masked ones creatures known as ‘Drust’, they did not have answers. Here and there along the trail were the bodies of the unlucky who had stood in the way of the raid.
When close to Dreamsong Fenn the Captain called a halt. Before the orcs lay the ruined remains of one of the winged night fae. She had been disemboweled much like the fae had been in the vision the orcs had seen. Cold dead eyes peering lifelessly upwards into the twilight trees. Surrounded by a circle of runes and other small ritualistic fetishes of grisly construction.
‘Through those they slay they perform their rites and open gateways to their realm. They used this settlement as a staging ground to open a number of portals and it was a mere stepping stone for their attack upon the theatre, I am sure you can imagine what would have happened had they reached the audience you were part of’ The Captain added darkly before granting the Red Blade the opportunity to remain in the area now it was secure.
As he left, Enrah began to examine the body of one of the fallen, taking note of runic markings and discussing what needed to be done with Matriarch Longhand.
The Deathwalker seemed certain she could use the runes and grisly ritual again with her unholy magic, repurposing the enemies portal gateway to allow the clan to pass through into the realm of the Drust, just like the hero had in the play we had watched that very night. It would be a grim feat but necessary, though she would need a sacrifice much like they had used to power the gateway.
Longhand was quick to suggest an alternative to night fae the Drust had gutted, offering the idea of hunting one of the greater beasts that roamed within the forest - this seemed to give the orcs some sense of direction.
We would hunt a great beast of the Forest of Ardenweald, utilising it in an unholy ritual that would open a gateway through to the nightmare realm of the Drust. There we would surely find the trail of blood from Sharguul’s wounds that would lead us to him and ultimately to his rescue from these masked terrors.
Our mission here finally seemed to be drawing toward its final battle.
We can only hope we reach Sharguul in time.
--Anon--
#38
The Campfire / Re: Campaign: Shadows Over Sha...
Last post by Verzan - March 09, 2021, 08:06:10 PMShadowlands Campaign: Fate and Farseeing
Throatrender sat peacefully watching the waters of the pool upon an enormous lily pad, many of the others were close by when the spirit Matriarch Longhand approached the group once again. It was time for the orcs to perform a ritual by the shores of a great lake in order to find Sharguul.
It felt odd to walk through the ‘town’ Hibernal Hollow. The eyes of the strange occupants of this land were upon us. Creatures that seem to have more in common with the Night elves and Cenarion circles allies than anything else we have known. Some were like dryads, half the body of a humanoid creature and the other half deerlike. Curling antlers sprouting from their foreheads like gazelle. Spirits of animals glowing vivid blue mingled with the traders alongside fae and satyr people.
Nor was this a conventional town, rather the hollow of some immense tree stump that filled with glittering waters pouring over the edges into pools. Pathways guided us over small streams and shimmering jade lilies. Through the hustle and bustle of it all, it seemed in many ways stranger than Maldraxxus as we navigated past the myriad of glowing inhabitants. More and more orcs began to question which are the animals here and which are the people, is it both? And where does that leave us regarding resupplying ourselves and hunting?
Longhand humoured our curiosity at least. Answering questions about the nature of this realm but every question answered seemed only to spawn several more.
---
Travel through the town and out along the roads through the forest did not take long before the whole clan emerged on the shores of a large and deep lake. Matriarch Longhand had brought us to the perfect spot to attempt their far seeing ritual.
The ritual however would not power itself and the orcs were asked to contribute anima from themselves. Longhand was quick to reassure them that no harm would come of contributing a little from each of them, other than a short bout of weakness they would feel that would come to pass.
There was no loss of memory, no weakened souls. It was exactly as Longhand suggested it would be. As each orc took up a small Animacone in their palm to draw the anima out - with the exception of the Deathwalker Enrah who the animacone seemed unable to draw power directly from.
Instead it seemed that she would draw anima claimed by her Runeblade in Maldraxxus into the cone. This gave it a strange greenish tint but there were no harmful side effects beyond the colour distortion.
When all of the acorns were charged, one last thing was needed. The Varog’gor knife that Kyrazha Throatrender held, with reverence to Sharguul she offered the knife over only to have Longhand hurl the weapon to the deepest portion of the lake.
Before any orc could complain, while many were standing peering confused, the Matriarch began the ritual, calling them two by two to place their acorns into the waters and the first to offer theirs over were Karak Stormsong and Rykana Skywise who uttered words to the ritual as if promising the Blackfur her intentions to rescue him.
---
The cones floated over the water and instantly discharged their anima cargo with a flare of astral energy that quickly turned the waters darker hues of deeper blue. The whole surface of the lake began to move in a clockwise direction when the vision began to become visible for the watching orcs to see.
Instantly their eyes were greeted by the sight of an autumnal woodland with fallen leaves upon the dry earth-scented ground. Tall runic structures seem marked out like waystones with dark cyan magics upon them, there are countless bones of beasts and humans alike in this death touched landscape.
The waters shift and there is a sudden movement. The sound of paws. A vision of Sharguul running, being chased and fighting. Spectral blood weeps down his side leaving a trail in his wake. Beings leap from tree to tree in swift pursuit behind him. Warped and twisted bark-like creatures imbued with the same cyan magics as seen before.
As these creatures draw close to him. Sharguul bites one and quickly dispatches it but not before another lands a wound upon him, the orcs can do nothing else but watch as he is forced to continue running. Over and over these actions happen - he is losing and the vision fades away.
---
Longhand requests the next two orcs place their acorns into the lake. Without hesitation Kyrazha Throatrender and Enrah do so. Once again the waters move and drain the cones of their anima before turning a murky colour, though not by the deathwalkers doing. The vision presented is grim.
One of the winged night fae is dead. Laid out upon a wooden pathway, it has been savaged. Disemboweled in some ritual fashion, the creature's huge eyes peer upwards lifelessly. Around the body are rings of runic script Enrah seems to recognise and describes as ‘Runes of travel, portals and death’
The orcs watch as the runes flare and a gateway begins to tear itself open through the faeries corpse, gnarled hands reaching out to heave their lumbering shape out onto the earth close by. Another willowy twisted tree like creature just like those that came for Sharguul. Seemingly hand crafted from numerous scraps of wicker into a mockery of human form it hauls itself fully from the portal before seeming to steady its bearing then sprinting off into the shadows at full tilt.
Even after the creature has departed the vision lingers on the open gateway before fading, anima spent and the ‘normal’ shimmering waters return.
---
The last two to place their anima cones into the waters was the youngster Naroda and the Chieftain Kozgugore Feraleye. For the last vision the orcs are greeted by the bewildering sight of what appears to be a forest amphitheatre somewhere in the Ardenweald. There are actors upon the stage performing with masks and costumes. There is a full and cheerful crowd enjoying the show.
This scene feels like it is something to come, a vision of the future, as if not all the parts being shown in the waters are entirely whole or painted in and the picture quickly fades back into the tranquil lake with little more to show us.
Longhand is quick to guess the location as the Amphitheater at Star lake, treating the short glimpse of a location as a sign that that is where the clan must travel if they want to locate the Great Spirit they are searching for.
She seems certain and there are few other suggestions of alternative plans. Longhand asks the orcs to summon their wolves and yet many seem to be resting their companions or simply did not fetch them to the Shadowlands - seeming perplexed the Matriarch summons to her side a pack of spectral wolves, natives of this forest to aid the orcs who were lacking in mounts.
The clan depart for a night at the forest's heart upon the back of spectral spirit wolves, waiting to learn when next the Theatre will put on a performance and they might learn more of the strange and troubling visions.
--Anon--
Throatrender sat peacefully watching the waters of the pool upon an enormous lily pad, many of the others were close by when the spirit Matriarch Longhand approached the group once again. It was time for the orcs to perform a ritual by the shores of a great lake in order to find Sharguul.
It felt odd to walk through the ‘town’ Hibernal Hollow. The eyes of the strange occupants of this land were upon us. Creatures that seem to have more in common with the Night elves and Cenarion circles allies than anything else we have known. Some were like dryads, half the body of a humanoid creature and the other half deerlike. Curling antlers sprouting from their foreheads like gazelle. Spirits of animals glowing vivid blue mingled with the traders alongside fae and satyr people.
Nor was this a conventional town, rather the hollow of some immense tree stump that filled with glittering waters pouring over the edges into pools. Pathways guided us over small streams and shimmering jade lilies. Through the hustle and bustle of it all, it seemed in many ways stranger than Maldraxxus as we navigated past the myriad of glowing inhabitants. More and more orcs began to question which are the animals here and which are the people, is it both? And where does that leave us regarding resupplying ourselves and hunting?
Longhand humoured our curiosity at least. Answering questions about the nature of this realm but every question answered seemed only to spawn several more.
---
Travel through the town and out along the roads through the forest did not take long before the whole clan emerged on the shores of a large and deep lake. Matriarch Longhand had brought us to the perfect spot to attempt their far seeing ritual.
The ritual however would not power itself and the orcs were asked to contribute anima from themselves. Longhand was quick to reassure them that no harm would come of contributing a little from each of them, other than a short bout of weakness they would feel that would come to pass.
There was no loss of memory, no weakened souls. It was exactly as Longhand suggested it would be. As each orc took up a small Animacone in their palm to draw the anima out - with the exception of the Deathwalker Enrah who the animacone seemed unable to draw power directly from.
Instead it seemed that she would draw anima claimed by her Runeblade in Maldraxxus into the cone. This gave it a strange greenish tint but there were no harmful side effects beyond the colour distortion.
When all of the acorns were charged, one last thing was needed. The Varog’gor knife that Kyrazha Throatrender held, with reverence to Sharguul she offered the knife over only to have Longhand hurl the weapon to the deepest portion of the lake.
Before any orc could complain, while many were standing peering confused, the Matriarch began the ritual, calling them two by two to place their acorns into the waters and the first to offer theirs over were Karak Stormsong and Rykana Skywise who uttered words to the ritual as if promising the Blackfur her intentions to rescue him.
---
The cones floated over the water and instantly discharged their anima cargo with a flare of astral energy that quickly turned the waters darker hues of deeper blue. The whole surface of the lake began to move in a clockwise direction when the vision began to become visible for the watching orcs to see.
Instantly their eyes were greeted by the sight of an autumnal woodland with fallen leaves upon the dry earth-scented ground. Tall runic structures seem marked out like waystones with dark cyan magics upon them, there are countless bones of beasts and humans alike in this death touched landscape.
The waters shift and there is a sudden movement. The sound of paws. A vision of Sharguul running, being chased and fighting. Spectral blood weeps down his side leaving a trail in his wake. Beings leap from tree to tree in swift pursuit behind him. Warped and twisted bark-like creatures imbued with the same cyan magics as seen before.
As these creatures draw close to him. Sharguul bites one and quickly dispatches it but not before another lands a wound upon him, the orcs can do nothing else but watch as he is forced to continue running. Over and over these actions happen - he is losing and the vision fades away.
---
Longhand requests the next two orcs place their acorns into the lake. Without hesitation Kyrazha Throatrender and Enrah do so. Once again the waters move and drain the cones of their anima before turning a murky colour, though not by the deathwalkers doing. The vision presented is grim.
One of the winged night fae is dead. Laid out upon a wooden pathway, it has been savaged. Disemboweled in some ritual fashion, the creature's huge eyes peer upwards lifelessly. Around the body are rings of runic script Enrah seems to recognise and describes as ‘Runes of travel, portals and death’
The orcs watch as the runes flare and a gateway begins to tear itself open through the faeries corpse, gnarled hands reaching out to heave their lumbering shape out onto the earth close by. Another willowy twisted tree like creature just like those that came for Sharguul. Seemingly hand crafted from numerous scraps of wicker into a mockery of human form it hauls itself fully from the portal before seeming to steady its bearing then sprinting off into the shadows at full tilt.
Even after the creature has departed the vision lingers on the open gateway before fading, anima spent and the ‘normal’ shimmering waters return.
---
The last two to place their anima cones into the waters was the youngster Naroda and the Chieftain Kozgugore Feraleye. For the last vision the orcs are greeted by the bewildering sight of what appears to be a forest amphitheatre somewhere in the Ardenweald. There are actors upon the stage performing with masks and costumes. There is a full and cheerful crowd enjoying the show.
This scene feels like it is something to come, a vision of the future, as if not all the parts being shown in the waters are entirely whole or painted in and the picture quickly fades back into the tranquil lake with little more to show us.
Longhand is quick to guess the location as the Amphitheater at Star lake, treating the short glimpse of a location as a sign that that is where the clan must travel if they want to locate the Great Spirit they are searching for.
She seems certain and there are few other suggestions of alternative plans. Longhand asks the orcs to summon their wolves and yet many seem to be resting their companions or simply did not fetch them to the Shadowlands - seeming perplexed the Matriarch summons to her side a pack of spectral wolves, natives of this forest to aid the orcs who were lacking in mounts.
The clan depart for a night at the forest's heart upon the back of spectral spirit wolves, waiting to learn when next the Theatre will put on a performance and they might learn more of the strange and troubling visions.
--Anon--
#39
The Campfire / Re: Campaign: Shadows Over Sha...
Last post by Verzan - March 09, 2021, 08:05:41 PMShadowlands Campaign: Travel to the Ardenweald, Realm of the Winter Queen.
It was the Broker E’on who had informed us that they knew where Sharguul was and after several days of pondering what to do, it was E’on we approached to travel. The Elders of the clan negotiating at some length to get us to this other realm “Ardenweald’’ at the cost of a future favor.
None seemed to like the idea of doing any more tasks for the entities here within the Shadowlands but what more could be said. We couldn’t be sure how much more time we had to get to Sharguul before it was too late.
Outside the metal structure that had taken us to Argus only days earlier, the orcs, their animal companions and their mounts gathered. E’on waited patiently, balanced upon those strange thin stilt-like legs of theirs waiting for the group to settle before weaving the magic of this realm to transport us.
I cannot say that portal travel has ever been my strongest, it will always turn my gut and here in the shadowlands I get an extra flashy light show as I am pulled between places just to really mix things up. These transports from E’on seem guided and without interference from evil hands that might attack us - I’d say it felt safe but I'm not certain that would be appropriate.
Whatever it is, it did the job and the whole clan emerged out on the other side.
---
As vision cleared we were able to behold a landscape not too dissimilar to Ashenvale. It was a forest. High above us stood its magnificent trees with colours more like the crystal ones in Icecrown, glittering purple and woven in all the colours of moon light. Even the plants under the shade of these massive trees had a luminescence of their own that shimmered on the gentle breeze.
There were birds, insects and animals. Your nose filled with the scents of fresh cut grass and pollen. This for many orcs was what they believed the afterlife should have looked like. It seemed very different from the rotten cursed landscape of Maldraxxus and yet at the edges of our wondrous vision not everything was right.
It was easy for the young to wander with desire to explore this fantastical landscape, only to be scolded and called back by the rest of us. When wonder faded orcs began to notice in the distance not all of the giant trees were like the others - some were withered and brown, dying a slow death like the lands below them.
When some orcs reached out to touch the vines, the leaves upon them crumbled to dust carried away on the same sweet breeze that had greeted us. A large portion of this realm appeared to be withering away. Though none of us could tell why.
---
From behind us suddenly as if summoned to our side Kyrazah Throatrender appeared, much like the other Varog’Gor it had been believed she had been lost when travelling to the Shadowlands and yet here she was - alive and safe. Alongside her, the Chieftains wolf Shrewd who had also been lost and another figure, one we did not recognise.
She was spectral, a spirit of this place. Draped in old orcish garb with wolf mask and bearing a tabard with what seemed to be an ancient design for our clan symbol. The better read among the orcs recognised it and this stranger spirit introduced herself as Matriarch Grugna Longhand.
Though it was clear many of those who initially spoke with her were quite young in their studies of the clan histories, the Matriarch seemed not to take it personally that they had no knowledge of her name. Rather the time for our reunion with missing pack mates was over and she got down to the business of guiding us away from the withering forest edge.
---
When safely escorted to the shores of a glittering pool filled with the colours of opal blues and huge shield sized lilly pads, Longhand explained that it was through an anima bowl of some sort they had cast their Farseeing magics to know of our coming. When we would arrive and where. She had found Throatrender this way and the pair of them had been working together waiting for our arrival.
She believed Sharguul was indeed somewhere in Ardenweald and we could use the same power again but it would need to be a larger scale. I had been joking when I suggested we use a lake as a bigger scrying bowl but that was actually Longhand’s plan. However we would need to prepare, not only would it require a larger scrying bowl to locate a Great Spirit such as Sharguul but it would also take objects of his and a great deal of this ‘Anima’ that appears to fuel everything here in the Shadowlands. This anima would have to come directly from the clan orcs and many were considerably dubious about what that meant, having heard several conflicting stories of what this Anima stuff actually was.
Longhand reassured us that it would cause no lasting damage and that she would not force the orcs to do this if they really did not want to, only that it would be needed to power her larger scrying bowl for us to find Sharguul.
We would also need an item connected to Sharguul in some way but with our freshly found Varog’Gor we had that part covered, all of them have special daggers from Sharguul - or at least Throatrender had one.
With this news the Matriarch left us, she had much to prepare. We too had our own amount of settling to do, the clear cool waters of the nearby pool were the first actual water many of the orcs had seen in the shadowlands that had not been conjured or purified by shaman. It was a welcome refreshment and many took the chance to fill their canteens before anyone uttered the words ‘bath’
Though caution is being advised the urge to explore this land is too great. I can say for many they hurriedly marked down the location of this glade where the clan will make our camp and swiftly headed out, barely even stopping to pitch their own tents and such.
I do wonder. Ardenweald is different to the other places we have visited that is easy to see but it cannot all be this peaceful right? How could Sharguul be in such dire trouble here if this place is so calm? What problems lie beneath the canopy of this magical forest?
-- Verzan Skywise --
Nag’Ogar Elite, Red Blade Clan
It was the Broker E’on who had informed us that they knew where Sharguul was and after several days of pondering what to do, it was E’on we approached to travel. The Elders of the clan negotiating at some length to get us to this other realm “Ardenweald’’ at the cost of a future favor.
None seemed to like the idea of doing any more tasks for the entities here within the Shadowlands but what more could be said. We couldn’t be sure how much more time we had to get to Sharguul before it was too late.
Outside the metal structure that had taken us to Argus only days earlier, the orcs, their animal companions and their mounts gathered. E’on waited patiently, balanced upon those strange thin stilt-like legs of theirs waiting for the group to settle before weaving the magic of this realm to transport us.
I cannot say that portal travel has ever been my strongest, it will always turn my gut and here in the shadowlands I get an extra flashy light show as I am pulled between places just to really mix things up. These transports from E’on seem guided and without interference from evil hands that might attack us - I’d say it felt safe but I'm not certain that would be appropriate.
Whatever it is, it did the job and the whole clan emerged out on the other side.
---
As vision cleared we were able to behold a landscape not too dissimilar to Ashenvale. It was a forest. High above us stood its magnificent trees with colours more like the crystal ones in Icecrown, glittering purple and woven in all the colours of moon light. Even the plants under the shade of these massive trees had a luminescence of their own that shimmered on the gentle breeze.
There were birds, insects and animals. Your nose filled with the scents of fresh cut grass and pollen. This for many orcs was what they believed the afterlife should have looked like. It seemed very different from the rotten cursed landscape of Maldraxxus and yet at the edges of our wondrous vision not everything was right.
It was easy for the young to wander with desire to explore this fantastical landscape, only to be scolded and called back by the rest of us. When wonder faded orcs began to notice in the distance not all of the giant trees were like the others - some were withered and brown, dying a slow death like the lands below them.
When some orcs reached out to touch the vines, the leaves upon them crumbled to dust carried away on the same sweet breeze that had greeted us. A large portion of this realm appeared to be withering away. Though none of us could tell why.
---
From behind us suddenly as if summoned to our side Kyrazah Throatrender appeared, much like the other Varog’Gor it had been believed she had been lost when travelling to the Shadowlands and yet here she was - alive and safe. Alongside her, the Chieftains wolf Shrewd who had also been lost and another figure, one we did not recognise.
She was spectral, a spirit of this place. Draped in old orcish garb with wolf mask and bearing a tabard with what seemed to be an ancient design for our clan symbol. The better read among the orcs recognised it and this stranger spirit introduced herself as Matriarch Grugna Longhand.
Though it was clear many of those who initially spoke with her were quite young in their studies of the clan histories, the Matriarch seemed not to take it personally that they had no knowledge of her name. Rather the time for our reunion with missing pack mates was over and she got down to the business of guiding us away from the withering forest edge.
---
When safely escorted to the shores of a glittering pool filled with the colours of opal blues and huge shield sized lilly pads, Longhand explained that it was through an anima bowl of some sort they had cast their Farseeing magics to know of our coming. When we would arrive and where. She had found Throatrender this way and the pair of them had been working together waiting for our arrival.
She believed Sharguul was indeed somewhere in Ardenweald and we could use the same power again but it would need to be a larger scale. I had been joking when I suggested we use a lake as a bigger scrying bowl but that was actually Longhand’s plan. However we would need to prepare, not only would it require a larger scrying bowl to locate a Great Spirit such as Sharguul but it would also take objects of his and a great deal of this ‘Anima’ that appears to fuel everything here in the Shadowlands. This anima would have to come directly from the clan orcs and many were considerably dubious about what that meant, having heard several conflicting stories of what this Anima stuff actually was.
Longhand reassured us that it would cause no lasting damage and that she would not force the orcs to do this if they really did not want to, only that it would be needed to power her larger scrying bowl for us to find Sharguul.
We would also need an item connected to Sharguul in some way but with our freshly found Varog’Gor we had that part covered, all of them have special daggers from Sharguul - or at least Throatrender had one.
With this news the Matriarch left us, she had much to prepare. We too had our own amount of settling to do, the clear cool waters of the nearby pool were the first actual water many of the orcs had seen in the shadowlands that had not been conjured or purified by shaman. It was a welcome refreshment and many took the chance to fill their canteens before anyone uttered the words ‘bath’
Though caution is being advised the urge to explore this land is too great. I can say for many they hurriedly marked down the location of this glade where the clan will make our camp and swiftly headed out, barely even stopping to pitch their own tents and such.
I do wonder. Ardenweald is different to the other places we have visited that is easy to see but it cannot all be this peaceful right? How could Sharguul be in such dire trouble here if this place is so calm? What problems lie beneath the canopy of this magical forest?
-- Verzan Skywise --
Nag’Ogar Elite, Red Blade Clan
#40
The Campfire / Re: Campaign: Shadows Over Sha...
Last post by Verzan - March 09, 2021, 08:05:16 PMShadowlands Report: Hunting of the Herd - Day two
When we made camp an order was given. ‘Do not leave camp alone’ There was no way any Elder could have given anything more serious, too many of the orcs wanted to explore the landscape around them but the dangers of this place had been made clear for everyone to see. It was not just my leg that had been burnt by acidic spittle, Steelheart too had been injured.
It came as something of a shock to many to find that not only had this order been ignored but they had actively been deceived by an illusionary gem placed by the light user Nakobu. The gem projected an image of him reading within the safety of the camp when he had snuck out to explore alone.
He was returned to camp some hours later by both Skywise and Steelheart bearing a bloody nose but in no way seeming apologetic as orcs began to gather for the hunt to come.
---
This was not the start to the second attempt at hunting many had wanted but it was what it was. Chieftain Kozgugore had some experience with hunting Talbuk and took charge, guiding the party back through the ruins at a more cautious pace.
It paid off immediately as a flock of huge mana ray creatures swooped down to attempt to snatch orcs up into the skies above. Almost all threw themselves clear, except Stormsong who had to be wrestled free of their claws by Nakobu. It was an attack of opportunity and the ray’s did not fly back down for another swoop at the orcs - seeming to take the hint to find prey elsewhere in this fel poisoned land.
Chieftain took us along a narrow ridge at the edge of a huge purple and golden temple wall, couldn’t be sure what it once was but the architecture was very much the purple arches and golden glowing glass of Draenei design. Hopes were that we could use the ledge along the temple wall as cover to approach the golden meadow where the Talbuk had returned to graze.
The ledge crumbled and caused those who had suffered injury at the hands of the vile fiends a night previous to fall behind or tumble from the ledge. I can remember lifting Stormsong up from the scree down the side of the ledge - he really does seem to have the worst of times. Our Broker E’on seemed to remain hidden using their own magics and walked effortlessly along the broken cobbles of the temple gardens without concern for alerting the prey we hunted on their behalf.
Finally we reached a place along the edge of the Draenei wall where we could get a clear view of the Meadow and the Talbuk within it. These were not the normal animals that many had known on Draenor but mutated huge beasts with shoulders as broad as an orc, jagged armoured backs and huge spikes protruding through their thick leathery hides.
Even more impressive was the stag standing at the head of this herd of fel tainted Talbuk, easily several feet taller than the others, with magnificent horns sprouting from his brow, the creature had a fierce look in its gaze as if it would fight most things that came its way. Even if its thick muscled legs would carry it to safety just as swiftly as the others.
---
Plans were made, the orcs would split into two groups. The larger and more heavily armoured would stick with the Chieftain Feraleye while the lighter more stealthy orcs would follow Rykana Skywise to a spot in the long grass, using a ridge at the edge of the meadow to get there.
This seemed easier said than done. While the first team of heavier armoured orcs slinked through the broken ground against the Draenei buildings completely unseen, it was a difficult task for the others to get around the herd and on more than one occasion they had to stop silent and still or threaten spooking the entire herd again ruining the whole hunt.
With a little orcish perseverance though they got themselves into position - the spirit link chatter suggested it was go time and every orc sat hidden around the herd waiting for the Chieftains signal.
Signal given! It was a rush to leap out of our hiding places and surround the herd, with Feraleye’s knowledge of Talbuk we knew that if we gave them nowhere to run they would form up into a ring and try to defend themselves. It worked immediately as the flighty creatures took on a defensive circle -- only to have the lead stag charge out from their line and onto the end of ours, threatening to smash right into Rhonya Steelheart but the quick thinking Naroda grabbed the shaman just at the last moment and stopped her getting trampled or worse.
Many orcs found themselves with an armoury of weapons and spells but few that could capture a beast alive while at the same time those orcs on the furthest edge of our ambush were far from the furious Talbuk stag, they had to rush over swiftly.
Stormsong approached the herd and caused the large male to charge his way, it got the beast away from Steelheart at least and close enough for Thronk and others to grapple the beast while Gatran Felhammer threw his warlock curses of weakness upon the beast. Stormsong’s luck might have improved from almost certainly going to be gored as so many leapt into the fray to take the Talbuk down.
The herd of Talbuk did not simply stand and watch their alpha be taken by the orcs, instead they began to stomp their hooves and muster into a stampede sweeping around the meadow to run down any orc they could find.
‘AHHHHHHHH!!!’ A mighty roar left the Chieftains lips as he evaded the charge. Not all orcs were as lucky, several were sent sprawling into the dirt. But Feraleye kept up his holler chasing the Talbuk and turning their attack against them. With a mighty splurge of insult he began chasing the herd.
Shouting ‘GO AHEAD AND RUN! I LIKE A MOVING TARGET YOU BLUNT-TOOTHED DIRTY GRUBBING NETHERPAWNS! KEEP RUNNING OFF BECOME A FEAST FOR WOLVES AND I WILL KEEP SHOUTING AT YOU UNTIL YOU PISS OFF INTO THE NETHER!’
This rallied the orcs and their efforts to overpower the large Talbuk stag began to turn the fight. Rykana Skywise leapt onto its back as Stormsong used his beast mastery talents to keep it from bolting alongside Thronks giant grasp. Only Naroda the youngster got toppled as the beast tried one last effort to escape, taking a cut to her shoulder - but the beast was bested.
E’on the Broker scurried forward and using their unusual technology encapsulated the Talbuk stag into an orb of silver magic and metallic swirling discs.
---
There was no lingering in Argus after the Talbuk had been secured by the Broker, as soon as the beast was captured E’on deployed a portal and we were quickly all extracted from the meadow where we stood - giving us one last fleeting glance back at the fel broken world before the fresh neutral scent and cool air of Oribos greeted our senses, like a welcome wind of fel-free breath.
A deal is a deal it seems with these Brokers and E’on was good to their word. Word done, payment given. We had secured the Talbuk for them and in return they suggested that we might find our wayward Spirit wolf in the realm known as ‘Ardenweald’ a landscape of rebirth.
As an additional reward, seemingly gifted for our ‘gentle’ handling of the beast's capture as it was barely damaged, we were given choice between three strange objects. An item that called upon the Everworms, an item that would aid the orcs should they return to the shadowlands or a necklace that could heal a greater spirit.
All clearly had their uses it was decided the orcs would take the Talisman of Spirits Blood. Which all thought might be of great use in helping Sharguul when we finally found him.
Though not every orc might have agreed with the Chieftain entrusting the care for such an object in the hands of Karak Stormsong who had recently seen most of his belongings broken during our time in Maldraxxus.
At least our efforts proved not to be wasted - we now have a location to search for Sharguul and a new potential ally with the Broker E’on. Who perhaps might be able to secure us passage from Oribos to Ardenweald.
--Verzan Skywise--
Nag’Ogar Elite, Red Blade Clan.
When we made camp an order was given. ‘Do not leave camp alone’ There was no way any Elder could have given anything more serious, too many of the orcs wanted to explore the landscape around them but the dangers of this place had been made clear for everyone to see. It was not just my leg that had been burnt by acidic spittle, Steelheart too had been injured.
It came as something of a shock to many to find that not only had this order been ignored but they had actively been deceived by an illusionary gem placed by the light user Nakobu. The gem projected an image of him reading within the safety of the camp when he had snuck out to explore alone.
He was returned to camp some hours later by both Skywise and Steelheart bearing a bloody nose but in no way seeming apologetic as orcs began to gather for the hunt to come.
---
This was not the start to the second attempt at hunting many had wanted but it was what it was. Chieftain Kozgugore had some experience with hunting Talbuk and took charge, guiding the party back through the ruins at a more cautious pace.
It paid off immediately as a flock of huge mana ray creatures swooped down to attempt to snatch orcs up into the skies above. Almost all threw themselves clear, except Stormsong who had to be wrestled free of their claws by Nakobu. It was an attack of opportunity and the ray’s did not fly back down for another swoop at the orcs - seeming to take the hint to find prey elsewhere in this fel poisoned land.
Chieftain took us along a narrow ridge at the edge of a huge purple and golden temple wall, couldn’t be sure what it once was but the architecture was very much the purple arches and golden glowing glass of Draenei design. Hopes were that we could use the ledge along the temple wall as cover to approach the golden meadow where the Talbuk had returned to graze.
The ledge crumbled and caused those who had suffered injury at the hands of the vile fiends a night previous to fall behind or tumble from the ledge. I can remember lifting Stormsong up from the scree down the side of the ledge - he really does seem to have the worst of times. Our Broker E’on seemed to remain hidden using their own magics and walked effortlessly along the broken cobbles of the temple gardens without concern for alerting the prey we hunted on their behalf.
Finally we reached a place along the edge of the Draenei wall where we could get a clear view of the Meadow and the Talbuk within it. These were not the normal animals that many had known on Draenor but mutated huge beasts with shoulders as broad as an orc, jagged armoured backs and huge spikes protruding through their thick leathery hides.
Even more impressive was the stag standing at the head of this herd of fel tainted Talbuk, easily several feet taller than the others, with magnificent horns sprouting from his brow, the creature had a fierce look in its gaze as if it would fight most things that came its way. Even if its thick muscled legs would carry it to safety just as swiftly as the others.
---
Plans were made, the orcs would split into two groups. The larger and more heavily armoured would stick with the Chieftain Feraleye while the lighter more stealthy orcs would follow Rykana Skywise to a spot in the long grass, using a ridge at the edge of the meadow to get there.
This seemed easier said than done. While the first team of heavier armoured orcs slinked through the broken ground against the Draenei buildings completely unseen, it was a difficult task for the others to get around the herd and on more than one occasion they had to stop silent and still or threaten spooking the entire herd again ruining the whole hunt.
With a little orcish perseverance though they got themselves into position - the spirit link chatter suggested it was go time and every orc sat hidden around the herd waiting for the Chieftains signal.
Signal given! It was a rush to leap out of our hiding places and surround the herd, with Feraleye’s knowledge of Talbuk we knew that if we gave them nowhere to run they would form up into a ring and try to defend themselves. It worked immediately as the flighty creatures took on a defensive circle -- only to have the lead stag charge out from their line and onto the end of ours, threatening to smash right into Rhonya Steelheart but the quick thinking Naroda grabbed the shaman just at the last moment and stopped her getting trampled or worse.
Many orcs found themselves with an armoury of weapons and spells but few that could capture a beast alive while at the same time those orcs on the furthest edge of our ambush were far from the furious Talbuk stag, they had to rush over swiftly.
Stormsong approached the herd and caused the large male to charge his way, it got the beast away from Steelheart at least and close enough for Thronk and others to grapple the beast while Gatran Felhammer threw his warlock curses of weakness upon the beast. Stormsong’s luck might have improved from almost certainly going to be gored as so many leapt into the fray to take the Talbuk down.
The herd of Talbuk did not simply stand and watch their alpha be taken by the orcs, instead they began to stomp their hooves and muster into a stampede sweeping around the meadow to run down any orc they could find.
‘AHHHHHHHH!!!’ A mighty roar left the Chieftains lips as he evaded the charge. Not all orcs were as lucky, several were sent sprawling into the dirt. But Feraleye kept up his holler chasing the Talbuk and turning their attack against them. With a mighty splurge of insult he began chasing the herd.
Shouting ‘GO AHEAD AND RUN! I LIKE A MOVING TARGET YOU BLUNT-TOOTHED DIRTY GRUBBING NETHERPAWNS! KEEP RUNNING OFF BECOME A FEAST FOR WOLVES AND I WILL KEEP SHOUTING AT YOU UNTIL YOU PISS OFF INTO THE NETHER!’
This rallied the orcs and their efforts to overpower the large Talbuk stag began to turn the fight. Rykana Skywise leapt onto its back as Stormsong used his beast mastery talents to keep it from bolting alongside Thronks giant grasp. Only Naroda the youngster got toppled as the beast tried one last effort to escape, taking a cut to her shoulder - but the beast was bested.
E’on the Broker scurried forward and using their unusual technology encapsulated the Talbuk stag into an orb of silver magic and metallic swirling discs.
---
There was no lingering in Argus after the Talbuk had been secured by the Broker, as soon as the beast was captured E’on deployed a portal and we were quickly all extracted from the meadow where we stood - giving us one last fleeting glance back at the fel broken world before the fresh neutral scent and cool air of Oribos greeted our senses, like a welcome wind of fel-free breath.
A deal is a deal it seems with these Brokers and E’on was good to their word. Word done, payment given. We had secured the Talbuk for them and in return they suggested that we might find our wayward Spirit wolf in the realm known as ‘Ardenweald’ a landscape of rebirth.
As an additional reward, seemingly gifted for our ‘gentle’ handling of the beast's capture as it was barely damaged, we were given choice between three strange objects. An item that called upon the Everworms, an item that would aid the orcs should they return to the shadowlands or a necklace that could heal a greater spirit.
All clearly had their uses it was decided the orcs would take the Talisman of Spirits Blood. Which all thought might be of great use in helping Sharguul when we finally found him.
Though not every orc might have agreed with the Chieftain entrusting the care for such an object in the hands of Karak Stormsong who had recently seen most of his belongings broken during our time in Maldraxxus.
At least our efforts proved not to be wasted - we now have a location to search for Sharguul and a new potential ally with the Broker E’on. Who perhaps might be able to secure us passage from Oribos to Ardenweald.
--Verzan Skywise--
Nag’Ogar Elite, Red Blade Clan.