Ritual Report: Peering through Death's Door
I am told these moments of connection with the other side of things are rare and that if it had not been for the Den Mother Akala coming to the clan a mere few weeks ago this would never have been considered possible at all.
The rallying call came with the Death Walker Enrah approaching the Elders of the clan. A call across the spirit link that all oathed members of the clan are able to hear, they seemed to have an idea about something. It was more than just the clan Elders that answered the call. The Ebon Knight spoke about a need for action regarding the Den Mothers warning. We had been in Northrend now a week - it wasn’t the only orc getting itchy feet, this place is cold hell but not every orc could Necromancy away the problems here.
A detailed ritual was explained, something about attempting to peer beyond the veil to find Sharguul, the clan patron spirit of death. By focusing on his suffering on the other side while under the broken skies to the realms beyond. It seemed easy enough, using the items, bonds and stories that connected members of the clan to this wolf and through them they would reach out and locate him perhaps even see what all this trouble was about - except it came with a hitch. Death walkers, as we are all well aware, use Souls for most of their ‘powerful’ magic.
That breaks the clan code, regardless of the portion of soul used.
While they might have been willing in the end to sacrifice part of their soul for the purposes of this ritual alongside other volunteers such as Ragnar Whiteclaw, the clan had not explored any other avenues. Self sacrifice seemed a little premature on this occasion.
The offer while allowed was firmly refused.
--
Many orcs present at this impromptu gathering offered their alternative attempts, some like Drazhul Dusklight who offered his talents using the void were refused. The Void after all is known to speak in lies and it could potentially lead to confusion over the direction needed right now. Others like Bashul Starsong a talented Astronomancer and Nakobu who uses only the Light could potentially have located the truth in that but again the powers employed would have potentially been costly, when we needed both to be fighting ready.
There were also concerns about involving the elementals when shaman spoke of potentially feeding the Death Walker some of that power to fuel their ritual, uncertainty over this made it an overlooked option. And of course, Kogra Windwatcher’s own limitations when calling upon the spirits powers for the clan, nobody wanted to pay to invoke those costs.
Instead an unproven New Blood who barely knew of the clan’s spirit wolves. Drastal Halfbuk volunteered and was chosen, a Mag’har from a Seer’s lineage from Alternate Draenor seeming to choose to deploy a similar technique to the Death Walker. The young seer knew the bonds the clan had to the Blackfur would be the best way of locating the spirit beyond the veil.
Mustering those gathered who could help and all those who would watch on either guarding the ritualists or simply the curious who needed to know what the fate of the spirits was, the group moved to the outer edges of the Tournament grounds.
There, around a small campfire, those involved in the ritual: The clan Varog’Gor Razaron Madeye, Kyrazha Throatrender, Vraxxar Wildmark and others such as Draz’hul Dusklight, Bashul Starsong and Tagrok Valorwind.
Incense was burnt by the young Seer and words spoken of potent ritual. Power manifested and spirits tied to the lands around became as spectres across the snow. Connecting with the ritualists and seemingly all of those close by, the spirits became visible for everyone.
The spirits understood the severity of the request, lending their strength to the ritual and reaching up into the darkness as requested and yet it did not seem to work. Something was stopping them crossing into the world beyond - the same thing that had prevented Akala herself crossing the veil it seemed.
Orcs tried to empower them but it was limited in its success - the ritual was upon the brink of failure when one of the more powerful entity’s aiding the clan leapt into the body of Drastal Halfbuk and used his mouth to speak.
--
A bridge was needed.
An orc would be required to become a bridge between here and the realms of the dead.
The spirit spoke these exact words when referring to this bridge ‘One who knows both sides of the coin of life at their very core’
Eyes fell upon the Death walker Enrah, while among the Varog’gor Razaron Madeye’s own experiences of life and death became apparent. The orc had died once before to rescue Sharguul many moons ago, only to be brought back from the dead.
One orc the literally living dead and the other an orc who had died and lived again. There would only be one chance at this and to get it wrong would have been to court disaster. Both stepped up to play their part.
Using her talents to step through the veil to the Shadowlands, Enrah called upon the magic of the Ebon Knights and stepped into the realms upon the other side, there she would wait for Madeye to reach forward.
He would grasp her hand through the veil - pull her back through and in this act create the bridge needed to hurl all of the orcs present into a series of turbulent visions of things no living members of the clan had ever been witness to before.
--
In the first vision the snow parted to share images of a distant place. A golden impossible structure floating in an unknown sky, shaped much like a Winter's Veil cracker. A steam of bright lucid shapes. That orcs who were witness to this whispered ‘souls’ upon seeing it. The numbers were uncountable beyond measure and from seemingly all places.
You watched them in awe as they swarmed through the floating structure and directly down into the ominous imposing blood red and ash black clouds below, as if drifting down into a terrible furnace hungry to consume them.
At the floating structure itself there are further flows of energy but much smaller, faint and four in total. Each leading off far into the sky were clouded swirls of different colours smaller than the ominous furnace mark their destination.
It seemed many of the spiritualists among our number felt without question that this was a place connected to the soul, before our visions turned again. Seemingly peering closer and within the grand architecture of the floating structure.
A huge chamber with a hole at its heart is illuminated by the stream of brightest souls pouring down and down through it and beyond into the depths below. Unknown armoured beings stand guard over a multitude of doorways leading to places unknown.
Robed beings float to and fro, busy about their purpose. While ethereal people whose body looks clothed in spiritual flame and mechanical limb walk in groups with opportunistic determination.
This seems to be more than some machine or grand device, it seems to be a city?
At sight of this place those bonded to Sharguul reported having felt that he was once here - but not if his current suffering was linked to this place? Questions remained unanswered as a stout being, wearing dark plate and tattered furs steps into vision. It was a dwarf. A dead one and from the colour of his tabard and runic axe another death walker of Enrah’s Order.
Following his short stride he leads us through the hall and passes the enormous armoured beings that guard the passages here. The cold gaze of undeath falls upon the entering figure as he looks to a strange man, seemingly with a cracked hide of flame among them. There seem to be many Ebon Knights here.
As the vision falls away into bleak and phantomless snows, ‘High lord Fordragon’ Our Death walker Enrah would utter referring to the strange fire touched man. Surprised perhaps to see him in that distant place.
---
As vision returns to those involved things are different, the glittering city of souls and the dead with its alien vaulted hallways and streams of countless souls are gone. Things are more turbulent as if the vision itself is shaken...
The grand visage of the Blackfur himself stands out in the blizzard arms length from the orcs, none can reach him. He is exhausted and a great many wounds are visible across his body. The great spirit's essence weeps front these open wounds as the weight from each cut stacks upon the might of the last. It is taking its toll.
In other visions he was more intangible… here things are different, he is material. His eyes glare at something unseen and his blackened fangs are bared. Facing off against a foe unseen. As if ready to make a final stand.
Some orcs try to see more, to push their will to aid him to action but it is impossible, nothing more can be seen and once again the snows return simply to flow around the clouded minds of the orcs enduring this spectacle.
Eventually like a light in a dark and windy night, something begins to approach. Many feel they have experienced the present but in this fresh fall of snow, there is a feeling of something other. Perhaps of things yet to come…
A soft scene of an orcish soul walking across a field of flowing grass. The skies above are an unimaginable kaleidoscope of colours as the sun sets gently. His attire is generic by orcish standards, perhaps yielding from a time before the opening of the Dark Portal but the crest upon his shield. That can only be the mark of the Red Blade. The scene of calm is pierced by a sudden burst of blue energy before him, a portal opens before the orc and through the ripples of magic a hulking monstrosity tears its way through.
Though the Red Blade orc spirit is brave, charging with axe and shield to cleave chunks out of the horror. He is ultimately defeated. As he lay in the long grass the creature siphons the energy of the fallen orc bringing him closer and closer to a second death.
Sharguul, the one whose role to protect the Red Blade in the next life, is nowhere to be seen. No aid comes to the orc. He faces his final death. Only oblivion awaits.
--
In sober silence the orcs stare at the scene. But their gaze is met by only further visions through a blizzard of snow that present to them another orc. This time she holds something more recognisable to those orcs who have passed their New Blood tasks. Three marks stained in blood.
When she lived or whom she is, is something of a mystery but she is a Red Blade for certain.This orc seems floating through a dark abyss. Following toward a thread of energy to a light that awaits her. Hopes are raised, could this be the Eternal Hunting Grounds?
No answer comes. Nor does Sharguul, he is not there to guide her to a place of rest instead hands reach from inside the darkness. Grasping the orc. Their fingers twist and yank pulling at her spiritual form and wrench it struggling to be torn to pieces.
Dark hands collect what remains and retreat back into the shadows.
No help came for either orc lost out there in the darkness, they faced oblivion alone and none came for those who faced horrific demises without Sharguul’s guidance and protection. All that they were winked out before our eyes. It was unbearable and to many unimaginable.
At this the connection wavered.
Spirits who had shared such a fate had reached their limit, this would be all the clan could witness for now and left many with more questions than answers.
---
A grim procession marched away from that snow-clad hillside under the broken skies of Icecrown, orcs questioning quietly what had happened and their place in the world now, was damnation all that remained?
Was it really true that the clan now faced oblivion should they fall in battle?
---
It only made the matter of Sharguul’s rescue seem even more imperative. If nothing was done, perhaps all would be lost. It would seem the clans' fate would be left to ponder the pathways that could take them into the breach, to the realms of death themselves. To the Shadowlands.
And perhaps a path none would have considered before.
A Death gate through to the other side. But at what cost?
-Anon-