The Trial of the Gosh'dabul

[Garulfkar]

Below are the notes and story fragments I have been considering for an event I would like to initiate for our members. Depending on what our officers and members think of it all, I would be prepared to act as master of the ceremony, using various guild Shamans or Hunters to facilitate the ritual in compliance with its facets.

This event's goals would be twofold; to provide a means for New Bloods to acquire one of their marks (toward the three required), and to provide an Orcish themed ritual trial as a means of obtaining a wolf mount (or, if your character already has a wolf mount, to further guild RP and guild lore integration). I am willing to personally finance this event, providing both mount and requisite training to those who opt to undergo the trial and complete it successfully. The ritual combat between the Orc aspirant and the wolf he seeks to forge the bond with can be role-played out, or conducted via duel. In the case of the latter option, either I (on my Hunter) or another Hunter can use a wolf pet to conduct the ritual battle.

As will be evident from the descriptive text below, the ritual has its roots in the legends of Kraag the Wolfking and his bonding with Magoth, and would be a means of acting out in game the remembrance of and participation in that Red Blade myth. With that said, on we go to the description of the trial of the Gosh'dabul.

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It was in the unlikely wilderness of the Hinterlands that Garulfkar was first visited in his dreams by a fallen heir of Clan Red Blade; an Orc named Gosh'targal Wolfbite, who had perished by the gryphon feathered arrow of a Wildhammer Dwarf. Gosh'targal had died as many Orcs of his day died;  falling during the tactical retreat to Blackrock Mountain for the fabled last stand of the Second War.

It was said of old that when an Orc fell in battle, his comrades would roar with might so that the spirits of his ancestors would find and accompany him in death. So too it was said of old that should an Orc die with tasks left undone, that his comrades would see to their conclusion, so that the spirit of the fallen might find the rest which his death had earned him. In this way, Orcs had carried on the legacy of their forebears for many generations. But in the dark days of the First and Second Wars, such traditions had been forsaken, so great was the bloodlust of the Orcish people. No longer did they keep the ancient customs for their brethren who perished in battle. They did not even honor their dead with the traditional funeral pyre, leaving instead their fallen brothers to rot upon the countless battlefields of their ultimately doomed conquests.

Thus it had been for Gosh'targal Wolfbite, so that his forlorn spirit was cursed to roam the Hinterlands, lost in unending anguish. Or so it seemed, until it was fated that living Orcs of the Red Blade should find themselves in exile, surviving in the forested mountains near Revantusk Village. Long plagued by inexplicable dreams, rife with visitations from Orcish ghosts and cryptic visions, Garulfkar came to encounter the spirit of Gosh'targal as he made camp one night on the cliffs overlooking Revantusk Village. Gosh'targal offered to help his banished kin, if only they would finish the task he had left undone when it came to pass that he was slain by a Dwarven arrow. And so Garulfkar made the offer of Gosh'targal known to his brothers and sisters, leaving the decision of what to do to the great wisdom of their Chieftain, Kozgugore.

The Chieftain led the Orcs of the Red Blade in finishing the forlorn task of Gosh'targal, slaughtering scores of Wildhammer gryphons and collecting from them both feathers, and blood. And when the matter was settled, the tribe gathered to offer the blooded feathers upon a ritual fire, sating at last the spirit of their forebear, Gosh'targal. In return for their honorable deed, Gosh'targal and his spirit wolf companion, who had bonded with the timber wolves of the Hinterlands, offered their still living wolf pack to the tribe as protectors. These savage wolves of the frontier would watch over the tribe during their days of exile, and grant the Orcs of the Red Blade cover within their pack.

But this, it would soon be known, was not the only gift to be granted to the tribe by Gosh'targal and his spirit wolf, Shadowspine.

After the tribe had conducted their ritual hunt of the gryphons, the spirits of Gosh'targal and Shadowspine returned to visit Garulfkar in his dreams. And it was the trial of the Gosh'dabul which the long dead Red Blade Orc had come to impart upon the living members of the tribe...

The Gosh'dabul (The Bonding of the Wolf) was among the ancient rites of Clan Red Blade, inaugurated by an heir of the bloodline which Kraag the Wolfking had sired. Inspired by the Wolfking's ordeals with the legendary Magoth, the Wolf Riders and Hunters of Clan Red Blade had begun to use the ritual as a means of bonding their wolf riders and hunters with their mounts and companions, some of whom were perhaps the descendants of Magoth himself.

Under the trial of the Gosh'dabul, any would-be rider of the legendary spawn of Magoth would face the same ritual. Potential riders and hunters prepared for the rite by donning wolf skins, face paint, and by facing the droning chants of the Shamans of their clan. So prepared, the Gosh'dabul initiate would depart the world of Orcs symbolically, emerging (psychologicallly, spiritually, and physically) from the clan grounds into the wilderness where they would set about their Gosh'dabul.

The future wolf riders, under the impression that they had become a wolf (by way of induced trance, or hallucinatory potions administered by clan Shamans), ventured out in search of the wolf pack, or a lone wolf -- challenging it to a contest of strength and mastery, both as a means of communing with the wolf's spirit, and of bonding with it as Kraag the Wolfking had with Magoth. If the Gosh'dabul initiate was successful in bonding with the beast, the would-be wolf rider would seal his or her pact with the wolf, obtaining it as a loyal mount and companion (particularly the latter in the hunter's case).

Gosh'targal recounted the story of his father's Gosh'dabul as though it had happened to him personally, asking that it be passed along to the tribe:

"As soon as my wolf emerged from his pack to contend with me, he charged at me, causing me to tumble away from its fang-rimmed maw. All at once, I forgot about the pack and its howling to the spectacle of our combat. I began to fight as I had fought so often by myself at night under the moonlight, preparing. The Far Seer later told me that with my simple claw weapons, I had fought as a wolf fought; that it was a revelation in the ways of Gosh'dabul. I do not know, and I am not competent to judge such things. I simply fought as I believe one must fight, and no thoughts came to me outside of what I was doing. My own mind receded into this battle, merging into the wolf, making us one. I delivered myself entirely to the pure joy of fighting without being aware of either myself, or the audience of the howling wolfpack. When I was a pup, I would tend to the wolves of elder warriors, I used to talk to them; and the evening of my Gosh'dabul as I ventured into the wilds, the conversations I once had with those wolves arose briefly in my mind. "Come on pup, catch me!" I howled and bared my fangs, and went on with my speech, encouraging it to keep charging at me. "This way friend, charge me, nothing's going to happen to you, here you are, here you are. Catch me, brother! Don't be a coward! Catch me!"

Without knowing it, I was executing the ideal Gosh'dabul, the Gosh'dabul I had imagined with so much detail in my dreams that every line of it was drawn in my mind and spirit with predatory precision. The Gosh'dabul of my dreams always ended disastrously, because when I went in to bite the wolf's neck and pin it to the ground, the worg invariably broke free and fastened its jaws upon my leg to cripple me, just as in the legend of Mokkosh and Horogosh. Perhaps it was my lack of skill that led this dream to take its course as it did. Nevertheless, I went on imagining it, placing the wolf in my grasp, the howling of its pack fading beyond even a distant murmur.

And lo, when the moment of truth came, the eve of my Gosh'dabul, the wolf did break free and bite down upon my leg, but I was so intoxicated, so outside myself, that I scarcely noticed it. I went in again, grappling the beast so firmly that despite its bite, it was forced to surrender or be strangled.

"Bloodstride" -- as I then named him -- rides with me still. He is my most loyal companion. I would die for him, and he for me."

Gosh'targal then told the tale of his own Gosh'dabul. He had stumbled upon the sacred ritual by accident as a young Orc near the cusp of maturity, wandering from his home to follow his father.  

A young Orc, perhaps no older than he, stood nearly naked and unarmed save two crude claw weapons, encircled by a pack of wolves, while behind these wild animals stood a circle of torches, each of them faintly illuminating the cowled visages of the Red Blade raiders. The young Orc waited, and finally an unbound wolf of silvery fur lunged from the encirclement and pounced toward him. The combat joined, wolf and Orc wrestled in a blood-letting match of muscle and cunning, howls and roars from each of them blasting across the valley's silent stone ramparts.
 
Suddenly, as though an unspoken truce had been forged, the young Orc and the wolf ended their fight and sat together in the snow, the latter licking the former's wounds, while the Orc took blood from the wolf's open cuts to paint upon his forehead and jawline. The Red Blade raiders suddenly pounded upon their drums, chanting in low tones, droning out into the triumphant night.

As though pulled by some invisible force, Gosh'targal strode up toward the circle. The Raiders turned, gazing at him with cold glares concealed beneath ceremonial masks. But Gosh'targal was undeterred. He strode into the circle just as the other Orc had left it alongside his new companion, and here Gosh'targal stripped himself bare to the cold winter air of the Red Blade homeland.

The Raiders muttered in hushed tones amongst themselves, seeming to dispute this young upstart's uninvited appearance. Over the chill wind, Gosh'targal heard an elder among them, his silver beard gleaming in the moonlight, and he spoke, saying,

"...True, Galvarosh, but I admire the young Orc's boldness. Let the wolves decide if he is of our pack or not...."

The circle fell silent, and the numerous wolves in attendance, some of them saddled, others unburdened, began to growl and pace, watching the young Gosh'targal.

And then one, with long black flecks trailing down its spine, rushed toward Gosh'targal with fangs glistening.

Today, even in death, the spectral arm of Gosh'targal bears the twin fanged scar which he earned that night, and the patch of fur which he ripped from the wolf's neck with his own maw never did return as long as the beast did live. The wolf, named Shadowspine, died among the crags of the Hinterlands beside his brother Gosh'targal, faithful to the last. Thus it was that Gosh'targal came to be named 'Wolfbite'.

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Anyhow. It may need some tinkering, but you get the general idea. A ritual combat event in the spirit of Kraag and Magoth, Mokkosh and Horogosh, through which a mount or hunter companion may be obtained. As I said, I am happy to run this event with whatever help other guild members wish to offer, and I am happy to finance low level mount and training costs for any members who choose to participate in this optional ritual.

Feedback is welcome, and officer approval is needed before I will consider moving forward with the ideas above.

Thanks for taking the time to read this far.