Orcs of the Red Blade

 
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Shoutbox

Zakarah:
2023 Dec 29 20:06:51
I think Rashka.exe has stopped working.
Rashka:
2023 Dec 28 19:49:43
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... A.
Realyn/Eliff:
2023 Jul 22 21:17:06
Such shouty people in here, gosh.
Rashka:
2023 Jul 20 00:42:16
Remember to shout your lungs out every once in a while!!
Kozgugore:
2023 Jul 08 16:30:53
Shouting here to make sure everyone knows that I'm still here!
Ootah:
2022 Jan 24 22:27:52
Wow I can't believe I remembered my password!
Razaron:
2021 Dec 18 14:37:28
<dances>
Vraxxar:
2021 Nov 10 11:24:52
Remember to check both ways before crossing the plains!
Vraxxar:
2021 May 22 13:10:40
I too am testing the shoutbox for non-nefarious reasons.
Kozgugore:
2021 May 22 12:55:49
This is me testing the shoutbox, because shouting is a great stress relief and it would be a shame if it doesn't work.
Rashka:
2021 Mar 25 02:38:20
IM SHOUTING SO HARD RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS.
Claws:
2020 Nov 19 23:14:09
Ice cream for all
Realyn/Eliff:
2020 Oct 09 08:49:55
Happy Anniversary!!! It's party timeeee!
Vraxxar:
2020 Sep 24 11:39:42
Oh god. The warlock found the shoutbox!
Gashuk:
2020 Sep 23 15:42:21
THE SHOUTBOX. Omg. This was like proto-Discord.
Vraxxar:
2020 Aug 23 08:36:02
*Grabs a camera to record what happens*
Nakobu:
2020 Aug 22 15:24:43
*prods shoutbox*
Razaron:
2020 Jun 16 09:34:12
<dances>
Vraxxar:
2020 Jun 05 12:32:27
Swedish Pagans?
Kozgugore:
2020 Jun 01 08:45:09
You're invoking the wrong gods in this place!
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Author Topic: A Realm Unknown  (Read 2117 times)

Rhonya

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A Realm Unknown
« on: February 28, 2021, 11:38:56 PM »
The twisting magic swirled around and around, a noise like a wind howling in her ears. She had kept her eyes open for the first seconds but squeezed them shut quickly after, the twisting and turning combined with the flashes and sights making her nauseous. What was going on? Was this how it was supposed to go?
Kyrazha couldn’t hear the rest of the clan anymore. Something slammed against her, almost knocking her out. A second later she heard a loud snarl and felt fur brush against her, but when she opened her eyes it was all darkness. With a feeling as if she was being pulled inside out, a very sudden bright, blue light engulfed her and whatever had held her in its grip spat her out against something solid.

Heaving and gasping for breath, Kyrazha tried to get her bearing. However, her head was spinning, something wet and warm was running over her face and her head felt like it was about to split open.  So she lay there, breathing hard, just...feeling. There was something alike to grass under her, she could feel it with her hands. Odd smells penetrated her nose, but she couldn’t place them. One she knew. Blood. Her own blood.
There were sounds around her everywhere. Wildlife, the pattering of tiny paws, the sound of wind brushing through leaves.

Stand up, Stalker. We’re not alone.

Finally Kyrazha opened her eyes. Blotches of white and black danced through her vision and it took her a few seconds to be able to stand up. Even then, the world swirled around her. A low snarl sounded, coming from her own throat, a little too wolflike to be orc alone.

I feel you, Striker. You’re more clear than ever.

You’re in my realm now, little one. The spirit realm.


With a huff, Kyrazha focused, pushing the dark brown wolfmask that was on her head a little further back so it wasn’t blocking any of her sight. The world around her was dark, but the longer she looked, the clearer it got. Pinpricks of little glowing lights made themselves known around her, coming from the grass, oddly enough. As if that wasn’t weird enough, when Kyrazha looked up, she saw huge, twisted circular trees with bright, blue lights coming from them.
What was this place? Her back was close to one of the massive trees, pressing against it to help her keep her balance as she was still swaying unsteadily on her feet. So that was what she had gotten smacked into, coming here.
On her head she found a wound, right above her temple, hidden in the mass of red dreadlocks. It was still bleeding, but she wasn’t too worried about that.
She’d been warned she wasn’t alone. But looking around, Kyrazha didn’t see anyone. Or anything, for that matter. Grumbling, the grey she-orc reached for her bow that was luckily still on her back, together with her quiver and most of her arrows.

Up ahead.

Kyrazha stayed low to the ground. Anything in this strange land could be a threat. And she was alone, no sight of the rest of the clan here. Had something gone wrong in the ritual?
There was no time to dwell on it as a weird noise made itself known nearby. Kyrazha didn’t wait to see what it was, but moved in the other direction instead, away from it. She was in no condition to fight right now, unless she really couldn’t avoid it. The little lights in the plants threw her off a bit. Plants were not supposed to glow.



The world was strange, unknown. While being used to weird and unknown places, this one confused Kyrazha greatly. It took her a few hours to find a place where she could rest for a moment and felt relatively safe. Hidden between two roots of the large tree, she cleaned her head wound as well as she could with some water she’d taken from a small pond nearby. Even the water was strange, too clear, too clean. She had seen some traces of animals, but they appeared to be avoiding her as much as she was avoiding them. The only thing she’d seen were creatures like some kind of moths, high in the sky. She rested there, hidden from the strange world around her, alone.



A few days passed. Kyrazha found out there was enough wildlife here after all, if you knew where to look. Hunting wasn’t an issue, getting water was easy too. She had traveled further, but she had no idea where she was going.



No sign of the clan, at all. Nothing. No sign of Sharguul either. Where was everyone?
After a week, Kyrazha had determined there were towns here, of a sort. Or camps, was perhaps a better discription. Trees that walked, strange creatures with hooves and horns that certainly knew how to handle a weapon, but had kind, soft eyes. She kept out of their sight, though sometimes she felt as if she was being watched. But Striker was quiet, so she wasn’t too worried.



Another week of being alone. There were odd places here, patches of the woods that were dying, the places being tunneled by big, massive worms of a sort which most certainly did not look friendly. She was sure to stay away from those places. They felt utterly wrong to her.



More days passed, more days of fending for herself and surviving in this strange realm. She’d seen spirits, spirits of animals. But also the hooved creatures and a centaur variant, but wearing odd, wooden masks. The softness from their eyes was gone. She avoided them, too.

Until at one point something tugged at her. Something called to her. No, not to her. To Striker.
It was time to hunt.
Kyrazha found her quarry not too far away, in the camp she’d been keeping an eye on. The camp was crawling with the masked beings, which she had determined were not friendly, unlike their brethren who wore no masks. However, she was called to the edge on the other side, so she made her way quietly through the bushes until she reached the place. There was one hooved being, hunching over a dark shape…
Before Kyrazha could determine what it was, the being moved, its eyes focused right on her.
“You are mine!!” was all it snarled before it attacked, violently, jumping right into the bush Kyrazha was in. There was almost no time to respond as the dagger the creature was holding dug itself right into Kyrazha’s shoulder, pinning her to a piece of bark on the ground beneath her. She was stuck.
How had it known-?! No time. With an underhand movement Kyrazha pulled her own dagger from the bindings around her leg, kneeing the creature in the gut in the process before slashing out with the dagger. A lucky strike across the chest made the creature slump forwards enough for Kyrazha to bite at its throat and hold on until it stopped thrashing around.

Panting, covered in blood and stuck on the ground now with a corpse draped over her, Kyrazha snarled softly. Well wasn’t this wonderful.
With a snort she used her good arm to push the corpse to the side before grabbing the long, twisting daggers heft. Pulling it right out of her shoulder, she growled in pain, baring her teeth and clamping them together to stop herself from crying out. It wouldn’t do to get the entire camp on her head.
Looking around, she found some moss growing against the tree. A handful was enough to fill up the wound and plug the hole there, for now. It hurt like fel. She’d take care of it properly later.
First, that shape.
Moving over, Kyrazha became aware of a low snarl sounding. The creatures side heaving with its breathing. It didn’t look hurt, only dazed. As it lifted its head, Kyrazha knew why it had felt so familiar...
Wild knowing eyes met hers. She wasn't alone anymore after all.
"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."