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2024 May 14 17:54:07
The website has never looked better!
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2023 Dec 29 21:06:51
I think Rashka.exe has stopped working.
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... A.
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2023 Jul 22 22:17:06
Such shouty people in here, gosh.
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Remember to shout your lungs out every once in a while!!
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Shouting here to make sure everyone knows that I'm still here!
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Wow I can't believe I remembered my password!
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<dances>
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Remember to check both ways before crossing the plains!
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I too am testing the shoutbox for non-nefarious reasons.
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2021 May 22 13:55:49
This is me testing the shoutbox, because shouting is a great stress relief and it would be a shame if it doesn't work.
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IM SHOUTING SO HARD RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS.
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2020 Nov 20 00:14:09
Ice cream for all
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Happy Anniversary!!! It's party timeeee!
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Oh god. The warlock found the shoutbox!
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2020 Sep 23 16:42:21
THE SHOUTBOX. Omg. This was like proto-Discord.
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2020 Aug 23 09:36:02
*Grabs a camera to record what happens*
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2020 Aug 22 16:24:43
*prods shoutbox*
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<dances>
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Swedish Pagans?
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Falling from grace, again.

Started by Gashuk, June 01, 2014, 03:31:11 PM

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Gashuk

Gashuk grunted, wiping his brow of sweat as he stood by the Crossroads Inn, strapping his fully packed saddlebags across Greymane's back with a grunt of exertion. "I can't do this" spat the Orc, mounting his Wolf with an elder's speed, "I can't just stop, it's impossible, the Fel it's been too long, it's too strong..." thought Felhand, kicking his Wolf extra-ordinarily hard to pace into the desolate Barrens. "Sadok's heart is in the right place, maybe if I had more years in me, I could be this Arcanist he desperately wants me to be."

As Greytooth's paws padded silently over the Barren's harsh savanna, Gashuk's thoughts flickered back to his first hunt, without Fel Magic, it was only a few days ago and the scars he bore from it were the first the once-Shaman bore with shame.


"Grhm, I admit I have always been capable o' Arcane Fire, ever since t'Firelands but it's o' a completely different nature. It mimics t' character o' real fire, burns unnaturally sure, but is fuelled by air t'same, is doused by Water, it's weak compared t' what I am used too." noted the Warlock, strapping his Mageblade to his side as he explains to his onlooking Tribe-Orcs, "Fel Fire is entropic, it lives from feedin' off life. It will burn through anything as long as it has somethin' t'feast upon. A plate helmet housin' a human head, a dwarf, who 'as leapt into t' water in false attempt t' escape it. It burns off me too, takes it's toll fer evoking it into this plane! If I do not feed t' felfire, it would feed off me. Bloodweavin' be my sword an' shield against this, a corruptive circle, and round an' round it goes..." as Gashuk finished his speech, he nodded in turn at the gathered Orcs, they knew what he planned, some approved but most were disappointed at his insistence to go at this alone, after all, the Red Blades were more than a Tribe, they were family and family stood by each other in testing times. Yet alone the Orc went, no Wolf by his side, no sickly green aura soaking in the Barren's heat, and thus the Warlock sweated, his simple robes soaked through. It didn't take long for the Mageblade, famed for being ignited in green Fel-Flame turned into little more than a dull walking stick, it's blade used to sinking into flesh like butter was resorted to sinking into dry earth. Gashuk had no idea what he was hunting, it was almost like the Orc had undertaken a Om'riggor ritual, a test of his own will to adjust to the nature of Arcane completely cold turkey of Fel and it's gifts.

As the sun's heat bore down mirages began to appear, voices from nowhere piercing Gashuk's vulnerable brain. "Master! Master!" barked a desert snake, slithering silently, "The Centaur will find you soon, Master, summon me and we will hunt together!" and empowered by mirage, the snake morphed, contorting into a Fel-Hound- Luushon. "No!" roared the grizzled Orc, his walking stick lashing out cutting through the illusion but rending no harm. The demon-wolf sniffed around, it's powerful tendrils nearly stroking Gashuk's cheeks with affection before it turned and faded sensing danger faster than any Orc could. Surely as warned, two Centaur rode forward their powerful horse-legs carrying them high, "Surely too a mirage..." thought Felhand, right before a arrow struck home in his left shoulder. Luushon was nowhere to be seen now, only whimpers of it's desire to help remained lingering in the back of Gashuk's mind.

"Grrah!" roared the Orc, as conjured red not green fire circled around his body, lashing out towards the approaching horse-men. One drew a second arrow from it's quiver and nocked it for battle whilst the second, a Shaman of their kind, summoned wicked thunder to counter the flickers of magefire. As the second arrow flew, Gashuk was prepared, raising a wall of flame to burn it to cinders as more flew through behind it, each and every one fell to the sand as dust. Only the thunder shot through piercing through the flames striking Gashuk directly in the chest, knocking him to the floor. As the Orc fell, as too did his conjured flame, falling to the sand hopelessly trying to cling onto combustion to remain aflame without the pyromancer's gesticulation. Yet this was not entropic fire, it didn't cling to the caster like a cloak ready to leap out and leech off the centaur's life spirit. "By t'blood!" burst Gashuk, clenching his burnt, now bleeding, flesh as the Centaur bore in closer another arrow at the ready. In a flash of dark crimson, the blood soaking the Warlock rose and attacked in defence, disarming the Archer and boiling his skin as the Centaur began to bleed from it's nose and eyes, the curse improving it's hold with every second before the victim fell, the Shaman's eyes grew alight with grief staring down at the still weakened Warlock. "I will end you, Orc!" it screamed, reaching it's arms high towards the Barren's sky to summon yet more lightning. Gashuk's eyes widened, his mind blank as the lightning struck him again bursting through his tough green hide. Visions of spell books flew through Gashuk's thoughts, ideas of abjuration, wards and shields all commonly used but lost to the Warlock that was used to sacrificing demon's for their boons and redirecting the incoming damage into the nether. It was like a switch flicked in his mind's eye, and as the pain turned numb, a single phrase was uttered into the open in a cruel tongue- Eredun.

"X adare laz rikk veni shi!"

A dark bargain was struck and the lightning was wholly absorbed allowing Gashuk to stand, again conjuring flames to circle around him, this time as green as his skin. It lashed out as fierce as it's caster, instantly catching the centaur alight as it feasted on it's strong life essence. The assault was over nearly as soon as it begun and with a heap of ashen bone in front of him, Gashuk finally breathed relief.

"How little I truly understand" grunted the aged Orc, "T'Arcane is so weak, so grom'damned weak, at least in my hands."




"I was right, the Arcane is weak, like a rattle compared to Doomhammer. I can't do this, the Fel is too strong, too woven into me that betraying it feels like forsaking the Elements all over again." thought the Warlock, more grimacing thoughts of failure and weakness once again over coming his desire to purify himself for the Spirits. "Maybe instead of gaining years of experience wielding the Arcane myself, I can take what I lack from Sharptongue and Rimeweaver, perhaps..." Again kicking Greytooth perhaps a tad too hard, the pair bound northerly towards the dry hills. "Maybe he can make me this Arcanist he so desperately wants me to be."

-Gashuk, Son of Garrak-
"When the ashes fall and the green winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Gashuk

Written on an IPad, excuse some formatting, the above is an attempt to cover up Gashuk's absence and depict his struggle to abandon Fel Magic solo. Enjoy!
-Gashuk, Son of Garrak-
"When the ashes fall and the green winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Nograx

Class changes for everyone!

Great read!
Blood in the soil, makes for more toil! Tell the bloody earth, a new Horde to give birth! -General Nazgrim

I am Dragonmaw, I am the blood of the Dragon and the fist of the Horde! - Lieutenant Krugruk

Gashuk

That's what you think!! Ha who else?
-Gashuk, Son of Garrak-
"When the ashes fall and the green winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Regorn

Regorn still completely distrust you. You smell strong of Fel.

Quotethey were family and family stood by each other in testing times.
In that case, I am the extremely disproving uncle.
That keeps giving a look of disapproval even in death.
"Names does not matter, only who you are" - An old Friend from past, Thar'grash Thunderfury

Groshnok

Great story, hopefully Gashuk will finally achieve his goal!

Thrash'Nak

*Knows the secretz* Thanks for a good story, i did enjoy it, despite the format, you claim is so horrible! ^^ Gashuk can doo et! Go, go! *Pulls forth a cheerleading squad*
Nothing comes easy, and besides nothing easy is worth having.

Gashuk

Fixed the format to ease the read and done a proper check over the story with a few minor tweaks.
-Gashuk, Son of Garrak-
"When the ashes fall and the green winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."