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Author Topic: Journal of a Varog'gor  (Read 2365 times)

Rhonya

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Journal of a Varog'gor
« on: February 10, 2020, 09:40:10 PM »
((A few small write ups I used as IC 'catchup' for our path of cunning events past weekend!))

Clan Redblade Journal, by Varog'gor Kyrazha Throatrender.
Wednesday, fifth day of month two.
Location: Krasarang Wilds, a small abandoned island close to the Cradle of Chi-ji.

In case of us not returning, I have decided to keep this small journal. Maybe someone will find it and send it back home, or at least will be warned of the dangers we might run into in the coming days.
Tonight we said farewell to those back in Razor Hill. Even though most was said already yesterday. Kargnar and Gul'rok made us packs of armor, simple weapons. Everything is light and black colored, it's pretty impressive what they made in the short time span they had. They really thought about freedom of movement and things having to be quiet. I'll distribute these packs tomorrow morning, so orcs can take out of them what they want to use.
We also have a crate of vials with light infused oil. I'm not sure how much it will help against void when it's on our weapons, but I figured it was worth a try. I'll need to remember to give everyone a few vials equally.
Right now we're on a small island, not much cover. I can hear the sound of wings, endlessly so, all around us. I presume they're mantid, but it's rather dark. They're not on the island at the very least, we walked all around it, but it's empty.
Something hangs in the air, like .. a current. Like how it feels right before a big lightning storm, heavy air, almost tingly. It's very unsettling.
I hope Vraxxar has some more clues on where we should be able to find Srelok, so we can prepare during the day and set off in the darkness of the night.
Also. I need to remember to smack some orcs when we get back. They apparently stuffed things into my pack that I didn't pack myself. Who'd take a plushie along to a thing like this?



Clan Redblade Journal, by Varog’gor Kyrazha Throatrender.
Thursday, sixth day of month two.
Location: Krasarang Wilds, a shallow cave behind a waterfall, north.

We found him.

We started on the small island, the air still heavy with the noise of wings, just out of reach. I knew Razaron Madeye and Nar’thak Strongarm were still in Pandaria. Or should be, hopefully safe still, so I reached out over the spirit link to them. Madeye answered, he was even pretty nearby, as luck would have it. He managed to find us.
Having distributed the vials, we set ready to leave.
It wasn’t easy. My back was already killing me, but the swimming across dark waters and climbing over branches and roots and through bushes didn’t help much. Yet, I couldn’t complain. Will not complain. This is my duty and I will bear it, pain or no pain.

Urzoga scanned the buildings of the Cradle. Just corpses, nothing else. No living, only the dead littering the inside.
We went north, closer to the temple, a place Wildmark had once visited Srelok, apparently.
The noise there, deafening. Wings. Mantid, everywhere. The temple is lost. Going in there means death.
We ran into a few but with some quick teamwork we dispatched of them.
Sidenote, don’t make Gashuk angry, he has a very nasty way of dissecting a body with portals. I won’t soon forget that sight.

Further north, animal footprints. We found Ruby, Sreloks raptor. She’s wounded, some void addled things even, but Urzoga calmed her and she lead us further to the waterfall.

We’re there now. We can speak freely, the noise of the water drowns out our voices from outside. Srelok is alive and awake, but malnourished.
Another small worry is the voices people are hearing. I expected it, coming here, but the reactions are worse than I thought. We need to be careful, also with one another.

The plan tomorrow is to talk to Srelok and see what we can find out about where Azguh might be. I don’t think he’ll leave without us at least knowing of her fate. And I can’t blame him. Wouldn’t we all do such for the one we love most?



Clan Redblade Journal, by Varog’gor Kyrazha Throatrender.
Friday, Seventh day of month two.
Location: Krasarang Wilds, a shallow cave behind a waterfall, north.

We didn’t make as much progress as I’d have liked. It’s starting to get dangerous out here, not only physically, but most of all mentally. A few got wounded tonight and we’re very much risking infections.
But let me start at the beginning.

Srelok wanted us to go to the place he last saw Azguh, a bunch of ruins not far from here, where she was supposedly helping others to escape from the temple.
The walk there was a risk, it involved many open spaces we had to cross. The ruins are Mogu ruins. We ran into two of them, the first one easily dispatched, but the second one gave us issues.
In the dark and in my confused state (The continued droning of the mantid wings is driving me nuts by now) I accidentally shot Varog’gor Madeye in the leg, actually breaking the bone underneath.
He managed to mend it partly, but it was a stupid accident which shouldn’t have happened at a time like this.
Binding two shorter ropes together from Urzoga and me, we managed to find a good place at the ruins to enter and used the rope to get up.
People were hearing the whispers again. Razaron even tried to attack Vraxxar in the back at one point.
This place is slowly driving us all crazy.
We found Xynu, Azguhs warpstalker. But the beast was purple, glowing with void corruption. Next to him a Mogu.
The battle wasn’t very long, but it was intense. My arm got burned with void magic. Others got hurt as well, yet luckily nothing life threatening.
Vraxxar managed to dispatch of Xynu before he could do too much damage. Seeing a loved companion like that fall in such a way after being so twisted and horribly corrupted by foul magic rose an anger in me. Both me and Shelar.

I managed to get behind the Mogu and kill it from up close before it even knew what was happening. It was weakened greatly already, luckily.

We burned the corpse of what once was Xynu and chose to go back to the cave behind the waterfall to lick our wounds and think up our next step.
Right now Srelok and Urzoga are out scouting, so hopefully they’ll have more news when they return.

It’s time to see how a void flesh burn reacts to being doused in light infused oil. I’ll have to either thank Nakobu or inform him it’s not recommendable. We’ll see.



Clan Redblade Journal, by Varog’gor Kyrazha Throatrender.
Saturday, Eigth day of month two.
Location: Durotar, Razor Hill.

We made it home. Barely. It was very close.

The night was very restless, I hardly slept myself. Mainly due to the others who continuously kept waking up, Razaron even walking away, Vraxxar screaming, fleeing into the bush before I could even stop them.
What surprised me most was Gashuk, who suddenly woke up, ripped open a portal out of nowhere and simply left without returning.

In the morning, Vraxxar was still missing. We waited until evening, but still no sign of him.
Tagrok appeared to be very confused, hugging his dagger of cunning. I offered one of our amulets to him. A last resort, they block out all outside and inside mind influences, but seeing we were using the link so much instead of talking, it would’ve also left him deaf to any orders. He refused.

There was one more place Srelok wanted to check. A cave, a little bit beyond the ruins we went to yesterday. If we couldn’t find her there, we’d be forced to leave without knowing of her fate. This place was getting too dangerous, especially now the one who was supposed to get us out had fled.
I’ll have a word about that with him later still, once I feel well enough.
We found Vraxxar. The road to the cave was eerily quiet and empty. We found him in the grass close to the cave, unresponsive to everything we tried. Alive, though.
I stayed outside. I’m not too proud of this moment, but I couldn’t risk it. I’d risked enough already. Trakmar would never forgive me if I’d gone into that void infested cave knowing even the air probably was filled with void residue.

So I watched over Vraxxar, while the others scouted the cave. They found her, but we were too late. She was already lost. Taken by the void, they were forced to kill her, grant her mercy.
The look on Sreloks face as Tagrok came walking out of the cave, carrying the wrapped up body of Sreloks mate in his arms, is a look I won’t soon forget.
I fear that pain, but I know it’s inevitable.

Not having any other way to go, we went north, to one of the nearby villages, hoping someone would still be left there to help us. We got extremely lucky, walking right into a evacuation organised by a group of pandaren mages who were gathering and portalling refugees to safety. They were surprised to see us coming out of the Wilds.

We’re back home now. Razor Hill. Yet, my mind is still there, even though I can hear Trakmar breathe beside me as I write this. I’m afraid most of us will need a while to recover. And I don’t mean physically.


"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."