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The orc's divine heritage

Started by Kozgugore, January 30, 2008, 01:26:53 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

Kozgugore

   The night was cold. It was a night that even the wyverns would not soar around the peaks of Stonetalon Mountains for long. Instead, they returned to their nests and curled up onto their eggs. Fresh meat would have to wait until tomorrow.
   Despite the bitter cold, there was still one orc roaming the mountain paths and valleys of Stonetalon, however. With a thick cloak wrapped around himself, he slowly made his way further to the top of the mountains. A worg followed in his footsteps, constantly sniffing the air and searching the area for anything of particular interest. His master was too absent-minded do to it for himself.
   The orc found himself walking on a small mountain path overlooking a valley of what seemed to be burned out trees. Despite the harsh cold, the warmth of the fires that burned the trees long ago was still there. He stopped. He unsheathed the axe off his back and chopped it into the ground. This would be the place.

   The orc laid down his cloak, satchels, armour and whatever else that would not be nessecary for this undertaking. He sat down, showing a bare chest with countless of ugly scars that marked his old body over the course of his life, and started making a fire. It was not easy with the cold wind coming from the northern mountains. It kept going on and off.
   After what seemed hours of cursing, grumbling and teethgnashing, the orc finally managed to get a proper fire running, however. He now took a small bowl out of his satchel, along with a skin of water. He laid the bowl next to the fire and in front of the axe he chopped into the ground. As he grumbled and cursed some more against the wind burning the old scars on his back, he poured a small amount of water into the bowl.
   He then took a small pouch out of the satchel. The sweet smell of Peacebloom mixed with an old, familiar smell of Terocone slowly filled the orc’s nostrils with delight. It was easy enough to smell the plants used inside the mixture of dust. He was no alchemist or herbalist, but a wolf’s nose can tell just as well. The result would not taste so sweet, however. Inside the pouch was a strange looking dust. A white colour with a touch of bright yellow to it. He dropped the dust into the bowl and nodded to himself.

   This part was indeed familiar to him. How he remembered is beyond him. He unsheathed his skinning knife and made a clean cut in the old scar in his right palm. It was cut open plenty of times from countless of oaths, and the blood flowed into the cold outside world without too much of a trouble or pain. He dropped the blood into the bowl and quickly bandaged the wound.
   The next part would have been easy, were it not for the biting wind. He turned his skinning knife upside down and started grinding all the materials inside the bowl, eventually ending up with a strange liquid that filled the air with a smell of mixed purified water, Peacebloom, Terocone and fresh blood. Only one element remained. Fire.
   The orc grabbed a thick branch and poked it into the campfire. It did not take long for the branch to end up in blazes. The orc cursed himself and his glowing hands and quickly dropped the tip of the branch into the bowl, then threw the branch back into the campfire.
   In a matter of seconds, no, not even a second, the air was filled with a strange sense of nostalgia. It was difficult to describe. But the orc seemed content enough. Happy, even. Delighted. The time had come to ask the spirits a favour again after a long silence of 40 years.

   The orc muttered some words in old, orcish dialect. “Storms of Fate. I request to you now. To cause misery and unrest for Old Blood. To grant your strength on steel and mind.”
   As the orc muttered many words, a strange essence seemed to hold grip of his axe, and whispers entered the orc’s mind. Perhaps it was indeed time to let go of life. And embrace it.
Kozgugore Feraleye - Chieftain of the Red Blade

Greggar

(( so that was the ritual you wanted to do :D aww too bad i had to go then :< But anyway nice story :D did not expected koz to ask the spirits so soon :) ))
Because orcs are green..Doesn't mean they can do photosynthesis..Or can they?

Claws

Nice Koz.
((Now i wounder where this is leading, the old Koz will be missed ;) see you around old one))
True Blood
Once a Blade Always a Blade.

Retired Right hand of the Blades.
Lived enough to be older and wiser then many pup's

Remember a journey is not a final destination.

Kozgugore

(( Mind you, this is no remedy to grumpiness. ;) ))
Kozgugore Feraleye - Chieftain of the Red Blade

Grundar

(( damn iam ganne miss you why man do you stop playing wow to or just stoped rping with the tribe?))

Kozgugore

(( Sorry to disappoint you, but I didn't mention I left the game or whatnot in the story. ;> You'll never know when the grump strikes again. ))
Kozgugore Feraleye - Chieftain of the Red Blade

Ugluhk

(( and at last Kozzie understand the true power of the Orcs!! and hopefully this will lead to the spiritss saying "getback tothe RED blade ye grumpy old orc!" :) you will be missed Koz! (you really aren't ATM, you still lurk on the forums and in /redorc) ))
Once a pup, always a pup :'(
Offical BUCKET HEAD!
Ugleh, Zhurd, Nose and now Gorback

Claws

Quote from: Kozgugore on January 30, 2008, 04:01:42 PM
(( Mind you, this is no remedy to grumpiness. ;) ))

Ya mean ya still going to be Grumpy bahh.
True Blood
Once a Blade Always a Blade.

Retired Right hand of the Blades.
Lived enough to be older and wiser then many pup's

Remember a journey is not a final destination.

Greggar

(( It's nice if koz was still a bit grumpy :) else it's not koz anymore! D: but i don't mind a bit happier koz :P almost like emo greg back in the sixties <.< ))
Because orcs are green..Doesn't mean they can do photosynthesis..Or can they?

Gruulg

((Oi koz ask the spirits fo' sum gooold, buy me flying epic mount :P))