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The website has never looked better!
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... A.
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Remember to shout your lungs out every once in a while!!
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<dances>
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I too am testing the shoutbox for non-nefarious reasons.
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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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*Grabs a camera to record what happens*
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<dances>
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Swedish Pagans?
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An Offering

Started by Rashka, December 21, 2017, 03:52:48 AM

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Rashka

An Offering



Rashka seated herself upon one of the cliffs near the camp. Accalia, her half-garn, laid down behind her, acting like a giant, fluffy, pillow.

It was odd to think about, she thought, as she peered skywards, upon the many stars this bright winter night. She had never really given it much thought, before, that some of Korgara's soul still could be in the Eternal Plains. When the spirits had granted her another child, she was simply happy, but when she later had learnt that it was with Korgara's soul, she was over-joyed. Confused, but over-joyed. That feeling had lasted, untill now.

She sighed, gently shaking her head. How could she be so naïve? To think that something like that, came without a price. Not that she'd of noticed on Korgara, though. She was just like any other Orc Cub, nearing the age of three summers. And thank Ancestors for that.

Turning her gaze from the sky, and stars, she peered towards the campfire, where the others, along with her Blood Brother, still were talking. Smiling softly, she shook her head. She wanted to hold onto that, nice, warm, feeling, she had received, just a few moments earlier.

She was grateful, that her Blood Brother finally had returned to the Clan. It was nice having him around again. It was him, that had sent Korgara to the Eternal Plains in the first place, after she had lost the cub during a fight, where she had been too reckless.. A big price to pay, for such foolishness.




Grunting softly, she closed her eyes. Enough thinking about that. She had other things to dwell upon, like what just had transpired.

She'd of asked Grodok for help, yesterday, after he had followed her out of camp. Once she had learnt about the Shaman King's Sceptre keeping all those souls as prisoners, along with Sadok's, and the first Varog'gor's, she'd of been furious. She may not of showed it, but she truly were. She were angry, that they had not found out sooner, and that their souls'd of been tormented for so long. Thus why she went to Grodok. She had asked him to aid her with an offering, which he agreed to.

So this night they went a bit further away from camp, where Grodok had set up three drums, sorrounded by some very old, Orcish looking totems. All around the area, were Orcish runes and words written out into the earth, words such as "Strength, Will, Life, Whispers", and so on.
The area itself seemed void of most lifeforms, yet she felt a constant warmth as she entered the area.

"We are ready. Join me, Sister." He spoke, beckoning her to stand infront of himself. "Silence yourself, feel their pressence.. Some you know, some you don't." As he spoke, he lifted his hands, picking off her rugged, grey looking wolf-mask, revealing her scarred face, and features.
While she watched him set her wolf mask aside, she grinned softly, her features soon settling to a slight smile.

As he returned to stand infront of her, he opened one of the bags upon his belt, dipping his fingers into the red liquid that was blood. Looking up upon her, he started to slowly pattern her face, upper arms, and down onto her hands. Not a single scar covered by the red blood.
"You will appear as you are.. A warrior."

She inclined her head, as he continued; "A fighter.. A mother." As he turned around, he flicked some of the red blood around her feet, before standing a bit further away from her, by the totems, speaking once more.

"Place the offerings before you."

Nodding, she knelt down, picking out the items she'd of prepared; A prestine Tigress skin, that she'd of aqcuired ages ago, upon one of her Nag'Ogar tasks. The skin was large and soft, clearly well tended to. It's fur a golden orange, and its stripes a dark brown. Placing it carefully down upon the ground, laid out so that it was visible, she moved her hand back into her satchel, picking out an ornate bone wolf statue, carved out of a raptor's leg-bone. This too, she placed down infront of her, upon the tigress' skin.

Whilst she did so, Grodok had started to tend to the totems, stroking and caressing them, as each one started to light up, one by one. The area remained silent, but the warmth increased.

As she had placed the ornate bone wolf down upon the skin, she peered up upon him.

He had shut his eyes, and were visibly breathing deep. He lifted up his hands, starting to play a beat on the drums, his breathing increasing with each beat, as the drums became louder and louder. As he started to chant in Orcish, a small crater infront of her feet opened up. Turning his head the slightest towards her, the drums slowly started to drown out from her ears, along with his chanting.. It was completely silent for a moment, untill she heard just one sentence. "One by one.. An offering, and a message, if you wish." The voice were without a doubt Grodok's, and even though she weren't used to these things, she did as he said, first picking up the ornate bone wolf statue. As she lowered it into the hole she closed her eyes, speaking in a calm tone; "Fer Sadok Sharptongue.. Even though' I 'aven't openly admitted it before-.. I 'ave always looked up ter ye. I go' angry, when I 'eard 'bout t'Sceptre, an' wha' 'ad fallen upon ye.. Please take this-.. A sign of ye always bein' a par' of t'pack.. A par' of our family."

As she laid the ornate bone wolf statue into the hole, she looked up. Music.. The drums started to fade back in, as orcs of old, and unseen, began to dance around her. One of the Orcs of old came forth, dipping its hand into the hole, taking the ornate bone wolf statue, and nodding towards her as it.. Faded from reality.

She'd look up at the Ancestors of old, blinking a little, before simply grinning as she carried on, still not completely used to these kind of things.

Taking the Tigress' skin, she folded it once, the bright golden color, and dark brown stripes of the once Proud Tigress, still visible. As she too, lowered this item into the hole, she spoke again; "An' ter t'Varog'gor.. I also go' angry when I learn' of ye, bein' in tha' Sceptre.. Tha' ye'd of been in there fer so lon', 'cause of yer sacred duty.. I be sorry tha' we didn' know sooner. A Tigress lurks in t'shadows, always watchin', waitin'.. Jus' like t'Wolf's claws. Ye protected t'pack wit' Pride.. Wear this wit' Pride too, as a sign of grattitude."

Peering up again, all of the Orcs of Old passed her, except for two, whom took up the pelt, carrying it in lengths way, ensuring it was not damaged.

Once again, a warmth spread through her, and as she watched the gift being carried away by the Orcs of Old, they too, slowly faded from existance. The drumming slowed, and the echoes of Grodok's words came back to her, as she was pulled from her trance-like state.

Smiling she inclined her head, before slowly standing up again, peering at Grodok, as he sat the drums aflame with the Element's aid, afterwards speaking towards her; "How do ye' feel?"
Nodding once, she spoke. "..Good.. I feel.. Hrm.. Good."

Smiling he nodded at her, as he gently pressed his forehead against hers, moving back afterwards to speak; "Ye fill me wit' pride."
Grunting softly she'd grin, a smile settling upon her features afterwards, as she spoke. "Thank ye, Brother."




Peering skyward once more, she smiled softly, as she whispered to herself. "I be glad, tha' ye be back, Brother."



Rashka Facebreaker - Battlesworn of the Nag'Ogar

Tarkah

That's a really lovely piece, with a great atmopshere!

Rashka

Rashka Facebreaker - Battlesworn of the Nag'Ogar

Claws

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.