Orcs of the Red Blade

Welcome to Orcs of the Red Blade. Please login.

November 21, 2024, 11:53:30 AM

Login with username, password and session length

Recent

Members
Stats
  • Total Posts: 33,083
  • Total Topics: 3,067
  • Online today: 205
  • Online ever: 449 (October 27, 2024, 12:55:06 PM)
Users Online
  • Users: 0
  • Guests: 141
  • Total: 141
141 Guests, 0 Users

Beyond and Back

Started by Razaron, December 18, 2021, 11:11:17 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

Razaron


Beyond and Back

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


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


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


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


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