Gosh'kar Felhand

[Gashuk]

“Grhm, grom'damnit Sharptongue, makin' me out t'be some sort o' sick twisted demonsblood drinkin' fool, I respect t'Orc, he's a long standin' Thur'ruk but I'm getting' fed up o' proving myself t'the Tribe.” muttered Felhand lowly to himself, as he flickered lazily through a large tome resting by the hearth's equally lazy fire. “I mean no ill will t'any Orc, I made a sacrifice, why can't they see...” Raising to his feet, Gashuk grunted as his back cracked from the effort, as the tome is shut dust coughs out of the pages and with a minor incantation the grimoire shimmers out of the existence.

“Blood Magic offendin' t'Spirits...”, grumbled the Elder as he walked out of the Inn along the dusty paths of the Crossroads, “Aye, I agree tha' Blood be a offerin' to the Spirits, I do this often, especially t'Ancestors tha' belong to tha' Blood Linage bu' t'use such a Energy without their consent? No, I am no Shaman, I do not do thin's solely with t'consent o' Spirits naymore, not since they abandoned me in t'first place. I made tha' choice.” spat Gashuk, a foul grimace on his face, meditating on the subject. “Perhaps if Steelheart was t'practice more Bloodweavin' like I, then she would adapt tha' mentality, offer t'Blood up and treat t'ritual t'same as any spiritual o' elemental undertakin', but how can I beseech tha' role wieldin' t'eldritch like I do.” grunting more than speaking, the Orc slowly but surely lowers himself into the shade of a tree's shadow, turning his words more into thought now out in the open.

“I promote Shamanism more than any Warlock I know, even the ones I converted to my thinking. Yet still, I can't be both a Shaman and a Warlock, can I, the Fel is in me, I control that but my Blood pumps fierce with my Shadowmoon heritage. Perhaps, if I developed my Bloodweaving more and portrayed it as a spiritual undertaking, if I found a balance between taking and asking, the Tribe wouldn't be so wary, especially Sharptongue and Bloodmaw.”, the Warlock-Shaman pondered, wiping his brow of a bead of sweat, “Perhaps I could rise as a Gosh'kar, using Blood as my connection to our Ancestors, and Fel as my weapon for their vengeance. Can I truly see myself as a Rrosh'tul leading our forces, at my age, with my Magic, no but I proved my point as Nag'ogar.”, grunting to himself, Felhand proves his name, igniting his hand with a cruel flicker of entropic fel-fire. “I could see myself a Thur'ruk, a Elder by age and by title, developing our Tribes-Orc with the mind of a aged Shaman, one who made that sacrifice into Warlockry, and kept his sense of Orc intact. I cannot hide behind my supposed intents no longer, not as an Iron Warrior, it is time to prove them.” a smirk curls around the side of Gashuk's tusks, not a cruel smirk but a challenging one, “Wolfheart be first, once she has safely solidified her connection with the Spirits of Life, I can prove the true nature of Bloodweaving...” and as the battle-worn Orc rose to his feet once more, a final thought flickered through his head.

“I'll do this, Father, for you and for the Blood of the Tribe.”

[Sadok]

Gosh'kar Felhand

((Seriously though, interesting story! Write more and I will read more!))

[Groshnok]

Gosh'kar Felhand

((Seriously though, interesting story! Write more and I will read more!))

le new may-may.

Great story, it's always good to see the more of Gashuk's inner thoughts.

[Thrash'Nak]

I feel used. 

[Gridish]

I feel used. 

That's because you -are- used.