Ashenfury had taken long bouts of meditation in the past and this was no different. As with each time before he began the long preparation for his trials and meditation. Several reagents were needed for the ceremony that would see his spirit ripped from his body to assist in the wars of the Nether. Sometimes his spirit would come back strengthened and vigorous while other times he knew that the battle did not go well by the exhaustion and pain in his soul. It was a pain no mender could heal.
The spirits' chatter haunted the Shaman since he had learned to summon his pack of feral wolves from the Nether. It is only when the chatter turns to howls of discontent that the Orc knows he is being called. He had been purposely ignoring the whispers that had warped into cries. Now his head pounded with the constant torrent of wailing banshee screams. There is never any memory of the spirit realm. Ashenfury once asked an elder of his tribe why he could not recall the times his spirit went into glorious combat within the Nether and the elder replied simply that memory is of the flesh.
On a day like any other the Orc sat in his office. An office that had previously been used by much more cultured races. The once smooth desk had been treated poorly by the Orc and the chair that was once Qarosimae's was cracked on one leg and groaned any time he put weight on it. He looked to the objects on the book shelf and recalled his Supplicants. The few that passed his trials were usually the strongest of the horde. Even though he would never admit it he felt pride when he thought of the ones that had seen promotion.
He stood from his chair and the arm rests stuck to his oversized butt. He pulled the chair off and looked at the weapon rack adorned with painted skulls and a decorative battle axe. He stared long at the skulls until his vision swooned and chorus of spirits swelled. He shook his head from the otherworldly reverie. It would soon be time...
(( This will be a long thread that involves several of my promoted supplicants among others. Expect to hear from me soon. ))
Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Last edited by Ashenfury on Wed Oct 03, 2012 7:21 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Seeking Ryanica
Ryanica was the easiest to find. Her dedication to the inquisition both past and present was steadfast. She and Ashenfury had communicated constantly throughout his tenure as high inquisitor and undoubtedly she considered this a summon like any other. She appeared through the doorway of the guild hall while Ashenfury sat in a wooden chair before the hearth. The hour was late and the hall was empty. Just as well, he thought to himself.
He looked Ryanica in the eye for a long moment. It was something that was done regularly. They nodded to each other and he stood from his stool and approached her. "I am sending you on a quest. I will need a feather for a Shamanic ritual. It will be used as a conduit of communication. Because of this it must be unique. The more difficult it is to attain the feather the less likely that our enemies can eavesdrop or worse feed misinformation by using a similar one of their own. I trust that your skills as a hunter and your knowledge of the beasts of Azeroth will serve you well in this endeavor. Bring it to me as soon as possible.".
He then nodded again and walked away without explanation.
He looked Ryanica in the eye for a long moment. It was something that was done regularly. They nodded to each other and he stood from his stool and approached her. "I am sending you on a quest. I will need a feather for a Shamanic ritual. It will be used as a conduit of communication. Because of this it must be unique. The more difficult it is to attain the feather the less likely that our enemies can eavesdrop or worse feed misinformation by using a similar one of their own. I trust that your skills as a hunter and your knowledge of the beasts of Azeroth will serve you well in this endeavor. Bring it to me as soon as possible.".
He then nodded again and walked away without explanation.
Last edited by Ashenfury on Thu Oct 04, 2012 5:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Preparations
Ashenfury's task was stupidly easy for the huntress. There were plenty of birds in both Azeroth and Pandaria, so finding feathers wasn't complicated. She had several in her bags for her leather working jobs, so she began to shuffle for the perfect colors. She couldn't get rid of feathers even if she tried, they always stuck to her bags like glue.
She grabbed a couple of Arakkoa feathers, smiling at the memories they brought. Those nasty bird-humans near Shattrath City were annoying with their constant shrieks and gibbering, but they certainly had the most bright of colors. She picked out a few feathers that had a slight shimmer of violet, blue and gold. The world of Outland was rarely visited these days with the Dark Portal mostly contained, so most enemies would just pass these feathers over. She also had feathers from Mount Hyjal, from giant fire birds that had been corrupted by Raganaros and those damned druids. These feathers had a slight singe of the mountain's embers.
Ryanica called for her loyal worg, Titan, and they set off to track down some birds. Ryanica wasn't looking for just plain waterfowl, she sought out birds of prey, whose feathers would fly swiftly through the wind, so that the ears of prey could not hear imminent death upon them. As such, the Grim's enemies would not be able to hear the feathers fly past them. Ryanica laid down traps all over the Valley of the Four Winds, and they set off to find some lunch.
She came back to one of the traps, and was pleased to find a Great White Eagle lay in it. The bird was confused and terrified, crying out to its kin, who flew around the bird in a circular manner, not knowing what to do. Ryanica had some marmot scraps, and using her soft voice she used to calm wild creatures in an effort to tame them, she fed the eagle. The majestic bird soon calmed down and began eating out of her hand, not noticing the skilled huntress pluck a few white feathers from the eagle's tail and wing. When she had enough, she cut the ropes from the Great White, who wasted no time in flying back into the air to rejoin its family. By only taking a few, the bird had no change in its flight pattern and flew off into the distance. Ryanica smirked as she remembered several Horde to tried and failed to capture the bird and ride it to victory. These feathers surely met Ashenfury's expectations.
Ryanica and Titan rode to the next trap, in the Jade Forest. While she was expecting another bird of prey, she saw that it was a macaw, a parrot of the forest. Nonetheless, the feathers it had would be perfect. Titan brought her some fresh fruit, which she fed to the hungry parrot as she picked up a few feathers, then set the parrot free. Not too far off, lay an owl, which had allowed her to take its feathers as it ate the marmot scraps off her hand. When she set the owl free, she was pleased with the collection she had. Colorful and strong feathers, she knew Ashenfury would make great use of these. Hardly any other hunter was skilled enough to gather these feathers in a sneaky and clever way.
She made her way back to the Gallow's End Tavern, where Ashenfury was sitting by the hearth, no doubt concentrating on the powers of the flame. She set down her pack and laid down the feathers on the table.
"Here ya go, boss. Feathers from all ovah Azeroth, Pandaria, an' even Outland. Dah best of dah best, from Hyjal an' dah Great Whites of dah Valley of dah Four Winds. Dese will be perfect fo' ya."
She grabbed a couple of Arakkoa feathers, smiling at the memories they brought. Those nasty bird-humans near Shattrath City were annoying with their constant shrieks and gibbering, but they certainly had the most bright of colors. She picked out a few feathers that had a slight shimmer of violet, blue and gold. The world of Outland was rarely visited these days with the Dark Portal mostly contained, so most enemies would just pass these feathers over. She also had feathers from Mount Hyjal, from giant fire birds that had been corrupted by Raganaros and those damned druids. These feathers had a slight singe of the mountain's embers.
Ryanica called for her loyal worg, Titan, and they set off to track down some birds. Ryanica wasn't looking for just plain waterfowl, she sought out birds of prey, whose feathers would fly swiftly through the wind, so that the ears of prey could not hear imminent death upon them. As such, the Grim's enemies would not be able to hear the feathers fly past them. Ryanica laid down traps all over the Valley of the Four Winds, and they set off to find some lunch.
She came back to one of the traps, and was pleased to find a Great White Eagle lay in it. The bird was confused and terrified, crying out to its kin, who flew around the bird in a circular manner, not knowing what to do. Ryanica had some marmot scraps, and using her soft voice she used to calm wild creatures in an effort to tame them, she fed the eagle. The majestic bird soon calmed down and began eating out of her hand, not noticing the skilled huntress pluck a few white feathers from the eagle's tail and wing. When she had enough, she cut the ropes from the Great White, who wasted no time in flying back into the air to rejoin its family. By only taking a few, the bird had no change in its flight pattern and flew off into the distance. Ryanica smirked as she remembered several Horde to tried and failed to capture the bird and ride it to victory. These feathers surely met Ashenfury's expectations.
Ryanica and Titan rode to the next trap, in the Jade Forest. While she was expecting another bird of prey, she saw that it was a macaw, a parrot of the forest. Nonetheless, the feathers it had would be perfect. Titan brought her some fresh fruit, which she fed to the hungry parrot as she picked up a few feathers, then set the parrot free. Not too far off, lay an owl, which had allowed her to take its feathers as it ate the marmot scraps off her hand. When she set the owl free, she was pleased with the collection she had. Colorful and strong feathers, she knew Ashenfury would make great use of these. Hardly any other hunter was skilled enough to gather these feathers in a sneaky and clever way.
She made her way back to the Gallow's End Tavern, where Ashenfury was sitting by the hearth, no doubt concentrating on the powers of the flame. She set down her pack and laid down the feathers on the table.
"Here ya go, boss. Feathers from all ovah Azeroth, Pandaria, an' even Outland. Dah best of dah best, from Hyjal an' dah Great Whites of dah Valley of dah Four Winds. Dese will be perfect fo' ya."
Seeking Nika
Ashenfury ran his fingers over the edges of the feathers as he contemplated the next step.
One of the Supplicants that never finished her inquisition was known to Ashenfury as Sizzlespark. After it was discovered that she was Nika Davies of the Alliance he could only bring himself to raise his axe where she was concerned. It was not only expected but demanded that he do so. Even then she had continued to send rare snippets of precious intel to Ashenfury... he knew that she longed to prove herself to him.
He started to summon the Orcling that ran his errands and performed a majority of his writing. Instead he decided that this letter would be kept to himself. He began to scribble in poor Orcish handwriting and smeared ink. The message read:
"Nika Davies, banished of the Alliance and disgraced of the Horde... I request your assistance. You now travel alone and remain neutral in conflict. I require a large rooster to be sacrificed. The spirit must be prime and alpha as it will be used to cloak my own within the War of the Nether. Bring this to me on the docks of Orgrimmar caged and healthy with no taint of magic. Keep it secret. Keep it safe."
One of the Supplicants that never finished her inquisition was known to Ashenfury as Sizzlespark. After it was discovered that she was Nika Davies of the Alliance he could only bring himself to raise his axe where she was concerned. It was not only expected but demanded that he do so. Even then she had continued to send rare snippets of precious intel to Ashenfury... he knew that she longed to prove herself to him.
He started to summon the Orcling that ran his errands and performed a majority of his writing. Instead he decided that this letter would be kept to himself. He began to scribble in poor Orcish handwriting and smeared ink. The message read:
"Nika Davies, banished of the Alliance and disgraced of the Horde... I request your assistance. You now travel alone and remain neutral in conflict. I require a large rooster to be sacrificed. The spirit must be prime and alpha as it will be used to cloak my own within the War of the Nether. Bring this to me on the docks of Orgrimmar caged and healthy with no taint of magic. Keep it secret. Keep it safe."
Last edited by Ashenfury on Thu Oct 04, 2012 5:32 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Preparations
Nika pulled the note from her pocket and unfolded the paper, reading it for the dozenth time since it had arrived the evening before. The note was more than unexpected.. Despite her sincerity where The Grim was concerned, she and Ashenfury had not been on civil speaking terms in many months. The last time she had encountered him outside of Orgimmar he had attacked and very nearly killed her. Since then, he had made it clear that if he caught her outside the gates of the city again, she could expect more of the same. There was no reasoning with him- he'd hear none of what she had to say.
The loss of what friendship she had with the Orc she'd always respected pained her, so she had mostly kept clear of him and the majority of the guild for several months now. And suddenly out of nowhere, with no explanation, came the letter she held in her hand.. requesting her to bring a rooster to the docks of Orgimmar.. well beyond the security of the city gates.
Despite her suspicion that this was some sort of trap, the continued need to prove her loyalty compelled her to do as Ashenfury requested. Pocketing the note again, Nika sank back to rest in a sitting crouch within the shadows near the dock to wait. Tucked inconspicuously near some shipping crates was a small wicker cage that contained the rooster Ashenfury had wanted. She had draped a dark cloth over the cage to keep the bird calm and quiet, and it rested inside now, unaware of it's fate. She wouldn't risk letting herself be seen by Ashenfury or anyone he might send in his place.. nor make any attempt to speak with him. She couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of ritual he was planning, or why he had asked for her help. But it was something she wouldn't question. The chance to help out a former friend was enough.
The loss of what friendship she had with the Orc she'd always respected pained her, so she had mostly kept clear of him and the majority of the guild for several months now. And suddenly out of nowhere, with no explanation, came the letter she held in her hand.. requesting her to bring a rooster to the docks of Orgimmar.. well beyond the security of the city gates.
Despite her suspicion that this was some sort of trap, the continued need to prove her loyalty compelled her to do as Ashenfury requested. Pocketing the note again, Nika sank back to rest in a sitting crouch within the shadows near the dock to wait. Tucked inconspicuously near some shipping crates was a small wicker cage that contained the rooster Ashenfury had wanted. She had draped a dark cloth over the cage to keep the bird calm and quiet, and it rested inside now, unaware of it's fate. She wouldn't risk letting herself be seen by Ashenfury or anyone he might send in his place.. nor make any attempt to speak with him. She couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of ritual he was planning, or why he had asked for her help. But it was something she wouldn't question. The chance to help out a former friend was enough.
Seeking Svetlaena
Ashenfury approached the docks and stepped by Nika as if he did not see her. First he kicked the cage of the rooster to confirm the fighting spirit of the cock. Then he pulled the cloth from the cage and lifted it before walking away without a word. While his face was turned and he knew he was not being observed by the confused Shadow of Stranglethorn he allowed a small curl of the lips as two gnarly wolves looking to have been in the wild for some time sauntered up to the dock.
One of the wolves sat down directly in front of Nika. As he did so his right eye began to wander up and away. The wolf then plopped out his tongue and wagged his tail. A fishing peon grew uncomfortable at the sight of the wolves and shuffled further down the dock before recasting his line. Behind the wagging tail a slightly darker wolf circled while holding his head low and looking agitated. It locks eyes with Nika and lifted it's head in a feral howl. The echo bounced from the canyon walls and returned sounding strangely Orcish. As the wolf call ended both of them sprang into action and ran south along the coast.
With caged rooster in hand Ashenfury kept a steady pace on foot from the docks outside of Orgrimmar to the Zeppelin master. He stepped onto the airship headed for Stranglethorn and eventually stepped into the vale with the same determined pace. When he came to the door of a home covered in foliage and reeking of what was most likely some sort of explosive experiment he knew that he had come to the right place. He put down the caged rooster and rapped loudly on the door.
Ashenfury could of sworn he heard the mention of something fel or other before the door cracked open and Svetlaena stuck her head out looking agitated at the disruption. Upon eyeing the large Orc her demeanor changed to one of invitation. Ashenfury shook his head and began to pull a short but heavy cloak of various animal hides so crudely sewn that it was obvious that the Orc had done it himself. He held the cloak out to her and waited. She looked down at it and back up to him. Svetlaena had been an interesting Supplicant and the only one that he had mixed feelings about. While most Supplicants were easy to break and discard this one refused to yield. He had tested her loyalty twice over and in time had come to rely on her practice of the divine for the shielding of his meaty and fragile flesh. By the time she had completed her inquisition the whole of Siegebreakers respected her.
Ashenfury broke the silence, "This cloak will protect my spirit during a ceremony. It must be imbued with divine protection. Place it in my office within the Halls of Inquisition.". Before Svetlaena could respond Ashenfury opened his hand and allowed it to drop to the ground without breaking eye contact. He then turned around and picked up the caged rooster before disappearing back into the Vale.
One of the wolves sat down directly in front of Nika. As he did so his right eye began to wander up and away. The wolf then plopped out his tongue and wagged his tail. A fishing peon grew uncomfortable at the sight of the wolves and shuffled further down the dock before recasting his line. Behind the wagging tail a slightly darker wolf circled while holding his head low and looking agitated. It locks eyes with Nika and lifted it's head in a feral howl. The echo bounced from the canyon walls and returned sounding strangely Orcish. As the wolf call ended both of them sprang into action and ran south along the coast.
With caged rooster in hand Ashenfury kept a steady pace on foot from the docks outside of Orgrimmar to the Zeppelin master. He stepped onto the airship headed for Stranglethorn and eventually stepped into the vale with the same determined pace. When he came to the door of a home covered in foliage and reeking of what was most likely some sort of explosive experiment he knew that he had come to the right place. He put down the caged rooster and rapped loudly on the door.
Ashenfury could of sworn he heard the mention of something fel or other before the door cracked open and Svetlaena stuck her head out looking agitated at the disruption. Upon eyeing the large Orc her demeanor changed to one of invitation. Ashenfury shook his head and began to pull a short but heavy cloak of various animal hides so crudely sewn that it was obvious that the Orc had done it himself. He held the cloak out to her and waited. She looked down at it and back up to him. Svetlaena had been an interesting Supplicant and the only one that he had mixed feelings about. While most Supplicants were easy to break and discard this one refused to yield. He had tested her loyalty twice over and in time had come to rely on her practice of the divine for the shielding of his meaty and fragile flesh. By the time she had completed her inquisition the whole of Siegebreakers respected her.
Ashenfury broke the silence, "This cloak will protect my spirit during a ceremony. It must be imbued with divine protection. Place it in my office within the Halls of Inquisition.". Before Svetlaena could respond Ashenfury opened his hand and allowed it to drop to the ground without breaking eye contact. He then turned around and picked up the caged rooster before disappearing back into the Vale.
Last edited by Ashenfury on Thu Oct 04, 2012 5:33 am, edited 2 times in total.
Seeking Knithawk
The large Orcish hands were beginning to crack and the soles of his feet were sore from little rest. He had walked North from the vale for some time. A zeppelin could have made short work of the trip but Ashenfury wanted to allow Svetlaena time to finish. He had arrived outside of the Undercity at the small village of Brill.
Knithawk had gone into a long slumber. Ashenfury looked down at rottbrain's grave and the stone on top of it that was slightly ajar. Ash didn't know if he could ever call Knithawk truly alive and expected that the slimy bone bag would lift this stone again in the future. Ashenfury hoped he would make it back to see it. While the Orc was in mid thought the cockroach that Knithawk kept in his ear scuttled out of the shabby sarcophogus. Both atennae pointed directly to Ashenfury and seemed to wobble about for a moment. Ash smiled and turned to head into the Undercity to continue his errands.
Knithawk had gone into a long slumber. Ashenfury looked down at rottbrain's grave and the stone on top of it that was slightly ajar. Ash didn't know if he could ever call Knithawk truly alive and expected that the slimy bone bag would lift this stone again in the future. Ashenfury hoped he would make it back to see it. While the Orc was in mid thought the cockroach that Knithawk kept in his ear scuttled out of the shabby sarcophogus. Both atennae pointed directly to Ashenfury and seemed to wobble about for a moment. Ash smiled and turned to head into the Undercity to continue his errands.
Last edited by Ashenfury on Thu Oct 04, 2012 5:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
For Ashenfury to just walk away without waiting for so much as a nod or salute was not uncommon in Svetlaena's experience. The Orc was still mostly a curiosity to her, his actions and words always brief and purposeful and yet always behind the veil of professionalism, rarely giving an opinion on anything. She liked that he did not judge her for her past, even though she still saw that flicker of that mistrust in the eyes of other Grim it never appeared in his.
She laid the crude cloak out on the floor, furless side up, moving one of the small tables out of the way to do so. Interested, Aravinda set down her dolls: a tauren Sunwalker and the dwarven hunter figure it had been menacing, and crawled to the edge of her cushions to watch.
"Stay over there, dear," Svetlaena said the words without even having to look at the little girl, knowing full well what she was doing. "You can watch if you promise to stay on your cushion."
An enthusiastic nod.
Several things were laid out beside it in jars-- sparkling dusts, crystals, and a couple of swirling orbs. The magics of the ancient continent of Pandaria were some of the most potent she had ever seen and only the best protective enchantments would do for a task for someone she so respected. Using a piece of chalk to estimate, the Professor began to draw a massive, ornate glyph on the inside of the cloak. Next, some spirit dust, over the entirety of the design. Essences to strengthen the smaller focal points, crystals to stabilize the energy of the structure.
It was almost time to set the enchantment, but there was one final step. Svetlaena scooped up a small metallic box from a nearby drawer and opened it, squinting as the light emanating from within almost blinded her. Crystallized Blue Dragon's blood, gathered from the Crystalsong Forest and repeatedly refined until it was almost pure mana. It was a tad unstable yes, but it would be the final touch to make this quite possibly her strongest enchantment to date. Very, very carefully, she scooped some into a small spoon and began to go over the glyph sprinkling just a few grains at a time over the focal points where energies would coalesce or flow. Too much would destabilize the whole thing...
There. Svetlaena glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was staring intently at the sparkling materials laid out on the cloak. "Ready for the pretty part?"
More nodding in response. Smiling, the Professor turned about and picked up the channeling rod. In slow, deliberate gestures she went over every inch, setting the enchantment aglow as she embedded it with arcane magics, Aravinda grinning merrily behind her.
The materials glowed to life, faded, and disappeared altogether into the cloak. Once the light was completely out it seemed a perfectly normal hide cloak lying on the floor. A Penance bolt was fired, testing it... the glyph shimmered into being for a split second, the spell completely absorbed, the cloak untouched. Svetlaena smiled.
Hours later, after Duroxas had arrived to watch their daughter, the tiny blood elf peeked into Ashenfury's office. Finding it empty, and her questions unable to be answered, she shrugged and dropped it on the desk. She could ask him later, she hoped on her way back out of the Halls of Inquisition.
She laid the crude cloak out on the floor, furless side up, moving one of the small tables out of the way to do so. Interested, Aravinda set down her dolls: a tauren Sunwalker and the dwarven hunter figure it had been menacing, and crawled to the edge of her cushions to watch.
"Stay over there, dear," Svetlaena said the words without even having to look at the little girl, knowing full well what she was doing. "You can watch if you promise to stay on your cushion."
An enthusiastic nod.
Several things were laid out beside it in jars-- sparkling dusts, crystals, and a couple of swirling orbs. The magics of the ancient continent of Pandaria were some of the most potent she had ever seen and only the best protective enchantments would do for a task for someone she so respected. Using a piece of chalk to estimate, the Professor began to draw a massive, ornate glyph on the inside of the cloak. Next, some spirit dust, over the entirety of the design. Essences to strengthen the smaller focal points, crystals to stabilize the energy of the structure.
It was almost time to set the enchantment, but there was one final step. Svetlaena scooped up a small metallic box from a nearby drawer and opened it, squinting as the light emanating from within almost blinded her. Crystallized Blue Dragon's blood, gathered from the Crystalsong Forest and repeatedly refined until it was almost pure mana. It was a tad unstable yes, but it would be the final touch to make this quite possibly her strongest enchantment to date. Very, very carefully, she scooped some into a small spoon and began to go over the glyph sprinkling just a few grains at a time over the focal points where energies would coalesce or flow. Too much would destabilize the whole thing...
There. Svetlaena glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, who was staring intently at the sparkling materials laid out on the cloak. "Ready for the pretty part?"
More nodding in response. Smiling, the Professor turned about and picked up the channeling rod. In slow, deliberate gestures she went over every inch, setting the enchantment aglow as she embedded it with arcane magics, Aravinda grinning merrily behind her.
The materials glowed to life, faded, and disappeared altogether into the cloak. Once the light was completely out it seemed a perfectly normal hide cloak lying on the floor. A Penance bolt was fired, testing it... the glyph shimmered into being for a split second, the spell completely absorbed, the cloak untouched. Svetlaena smiled.
Hours later, after Duroxas had arrived to watch their daughter, the tiny blood elf peeked into Ashenfury's office. Finding it empty, and her questions unable to be answered, she shrugged and dropped it on the desk. She could ask him later, she hoped on her way back out of the Halls of Inquisition.
Seeking Bryii
Ashenfury entered the Undercity looking worse for the wear. Smelling the wafting musk of the entombed village made the Orc's stomach protest loudly for food. Knowing that the spirit departs easier when sated the Orc abstained.
Ashenfury wore the mask of grim determination that he had seen on so many of his Supplicants' faces. He carried the caged rooster with him as he stepped onto the wooden deck of the zeppelin headed for Northrend. The water lapped against the frozen shore and his face was instantly pelted in snow as he stepped off of the ship. He used the teleportation Crystal under the sanctuary of Dalaran and took the winding flight of stairs up to the den of the blood angel.
After the warmth of teleportation had receded he was staring face to face with Bryii. He had attempted to break Svetlaena with her inquisition but with Bryii he had attempted to decimate what he had considered to be a weak and indulgent elf thing. Bryii was the first long ear to have earned the respect of the Orc. Physical brutality, subversion, and tests of patience were meant to reveal a flaw. Instead it strengthened her resolve.
Bryii exhaled as she saw that it was only another Grim that had interrupted her reverie. "You can just use the hearthstone when you want to talk, Ash..." the blood elf said. "Besides, I'm a bit busy at the moment." Bryii continued. Ashenfury looked over to her desk and saw her diary open with several empty glasses of wine scattered around the candle.
Bryii cleared her throat and held her ground effectively blocking him off. Ashenfury sized her up as he would any wild animal. By now he was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. His tabard was dirty, his cloak was frayed, and he had the sunken eyes of a starved creature.
"You must scribe a chant. You alone will know its content. The words of this chant will be carried on the air, the paper consumed in flame, the fire doused in water, and the ashes buried in the earth. My very soul will use this chant as both my battle cry and comfort. It will see me leave this place and when I prepare to return it will be you who hears these words in your sleep and knows the haunting of the spirit realm."
Bryii rolled her eyes at the Orc being eclectic as usual. She took a small breath to ask a question but before she could do so he walked backwards into the portal that had brought him there. She stood alone, a little tipsy, and very anxious as she considered his actions.
Ashenfury wore the mask of grim determination that he had seen on so many of his Supplicants' faces. He carried the caged rooster with him as he stepped onto the wooden deck of the zeppelin headed for Northrend. The water lapped against the frozen shore and his face was instantly pelted in snow as he stepped off of the ship. He used the teleportation Crystal under the sanctuary of Dalaran and took the winding flight of stairs up to the den of the blood angel.
After the warmth of teleportation had receded he was staring face to face with Bryii. He had attempted to break Svetlaena with her inquisition but with Bryii he had attempted to decimate what he had considered to be a weak and indulgent elf thing. Bryii was the first long ear to have earned the respect of the Orc. Physical brutality, subversion, and tests of patience were meant to reveal a flaw. Instead it strengthened her resolve.
Bryii exhaled as she saw that it was only another Grim that had interrupted her reverie. "You can just use the hearthstone when you want to talk, Ash..." the blood elf said. "Besides, I'm a bit busy at the moment." Bryii continued. Ashenfury looked over to her desk and saw her diary open with several empty glasses of wine scattered around the candle.
Bryii cleared her throat and held her ground effectively blocking him off. Ashenfury sized her up as he would any wild animal. By now he was beginning to show signs of exhaustion. His tabard was dirty, his cloak was frayed, and he had the sunken eyes of a starved creature.
"You must scribe a chant. You alone will know its content. The words of this chant will be carried on the air, the paper consumed in flame, the fire doused in water, and the ashes buried in the earth. My very soul will use this chant as both my battle cry and comfort. It will see me leave this place and when I prepare to return it will be you who hears these words in your sleep and knows the haunting of the spirit realm."
Bryii rolled her eyes at the Orc being eclectic as usual. She took a small breath to ask a question but before she could do so he walked backwards into the portal that had brought him there. She stood alone, a little tipsy, and very anxious as she considered his actions.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Bryii was at home, sitting by a river close to Silvermoon city. She had brought her diary and a single pen, she was asked to do a rather strange task for her orc friend, Ashenfury. He had requested a poem, from Bryii. Bryii kind of chuckled at the idea and thought to herself not being a great writer or even artistic. She always thought as Ashenfury as rapids in the river, tough and strong yet the sound of water is the calming and spiritual side of the orc. Bryii was more just reminiscing on her past with Ashenfury then actually writing anything down. Her smile on her face slowly went away to more of a frown remembering some of the bad times. Bryii remembered it all....
"Why would we see fit to letting this little dog of a traitor rejoin the ranks of the grim?" Malebrignon said with anger.
Ashenfury just standing in front of Bryii, looking eye to eye. Bryii clearly uncomfortable, her eye's would shift around trying to break the tension. As the council discussed with what they would do with Bryii, she would have her weapon ready just in case something was to go down.
"She-elf thing." Ashenfury paused and had a wicked smirk on his face. "You may rejoin the ranks of the Grim, but I will have total control over you and see fit to putting you through some tests." Ashenfury tossed a tabard and instructed to put it on. "You will be watched by my eyes at all time, I have the spirits enchanted upon that tabard. You take it off, I will hunt you down." Ashenfury turned around and recalled the spirits to take him away from the grouping. Bryii looked down at the tabard and back up at the other. Leyujin nodded, Mohan welcomed back the elf. Malebrignon turned around and muttered silently and as for Knithawk he spat at the ground near Bryii's feet.
Bryii shaked her head, and stopped going back into the past and laughed out loud to herself. "That stupid orc, he acts tough like the rapids but he has a soft spot for elves I know he does." She smiled and knew Ashenfury cared about Deminthus, as if he was his own son. Bryii believes maybe Ashenfury thought of her as a troublesome daughter as well.
Bryii knew exactly what to write about the great Ashenfury. Everything she had wrote was true and came from her heart. Even if she was not his daughter, she thought of him as a father. Bryii had started to write vigorously, until the dusk.
"Why would we see fit to letting this little dog of a traitor rejoin the ranks of the grim?" Malebrignon said with anger.
Ashenfury just standing in front of Bryii, looking eye to eye. Bryii clearly uncomfortable, her eye's would shift around trying to break the tension. As the council discussed with what they would do with Bryii, she would have her weapon ready just in case something was to go down.
"She-elf thing." Ashenfury paused and had a wicked smirk on his face. "You may rejoin the ranks of the Grim, but I will have total control over you and see fit to putting you through some tests." Ashenfury tossed a tabard and instructed to put it on. "You will be watched by my eyes at all time, I have the spirits enchanted upon that tabard. You take it off, I will hunt you down." Ashenfury turned around and recalled the spirits to take him away from the grouping. Bryii looked down at the tabard and back up at the other. Leyujin nodded, Mohan welcomed back the elf. Malebrignon turned around and muttered silently and as for Knithawk he spat at the ground near Bryii's feet.
Bryii shaked her head, and stopped going back into the past and laughed out loud to herself. "That stupid orc, he acts tough like the rapids but he has a soft spot for elves I know he does." She smiled and knew Ashenfury cared about Deminthus, as if he was his own son. Bryii believes maybe Ashenfury thought of her as a troublesome daughter as well.
Bryii knew exactly what to write about the great Ashenfury. Everything she had wrote was true and came from her heart. Even if she was not his daughter, she thought of him as a father. Bryii had started to write vigorously, until the dusk.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Ashenfury had arrived at the border of Boa'drak.
By this point both the rooster and the Orc looked to be on the verge of death. They were able to sight Leyujin from afar. He was leading other trolls in expanding their dwellings and territory. He seemed to be explaining something to a couple of members of a larger group. The work that had been done already looked to have gone quickly no doubt due to the assistance of the Word bearer.
Leyujin looked up and smiled at the sight of the approaching Shaman. Ashenfury was stoic as usual. The pair were an odd couple. Leyujin was constantly smiling and throwing his arms in the air to cheer while Ashenfury was content to wear a scowl for most conversations. The two greeted one another in Orcish before stepping away.
Ashenfury started "Throm'ka Leyujin. I am he-"
Leyujin interrupted with his thick troll accent, "You be 'ere ta eat sumting, mon. Joo mus' be starvin'."
"Maybe the rooster but I will not eat." Ashenfury said with finality.
"That rooster wouldna taste gud any'ow!" Leyujin laughed and Ashenfury chuckled.
The two walked to Leyujin's hut. It was spartan and primitive. The hut reminded Ashenfury of his office. It was the only walled dwelling the Orc had ever called his own. Leyujin threw some seeds to the rooster that pecked at them slowly. It gained speed and energy as it pecked greedily then cawed for more.
"I will need somebody to protect an item of great value. There is none other that I would have protect my instrument of war." Ashenfury said. Leyujin expressed surprise but allowed the Orc to continue. "A shamanic rite will cause the shell that is my body to perish. I ask that you take the axe from my hand and bring it to your village when that time comes." Ashenfury looked down at the rooster that was once again flapping it's wings in protest at being caged. It showed a healthy surge of energy from the food.
"O' course mon, but what's dis mess with yer rites and such?" Leyujin replied.
Ashenfury looked at him for a moment moment and then stood from the stool. He lifted the caged rooster and said "Enemies of both the Nether and Azeroth may seek this blade. It must remain in the hands of The Grim.". As he finished he stepped out of the hut and started to head off. Annoyingly the troll followed him out... Ashenfury waited for him to say something. They walked to the edge of the village and stopped. Ashenfury nodded to the troll and the troll nodded back.
By this point both the rooster and the Orc looked to be on the verge of death. They were able to sight Leyujin from afar. He was leading other trolls in expanding their dwellings and territory. He seemed to be explaining something to a couple of members of a larger group. The work that had been done already looked to have gone quickly no doubt due to the assistance of the Word bearer.
Leyujin looked up and smiled at the sight of the approaching Shaman. Ashenfury was stoic as usual. The pair were an odd couple. Leyujin was constantly smiling and throwing his arms in the air to cheer while Ashenfury was content to wear a scowl for most conversations. The two greeted one another in Orcish before stepping away.
Ashenfury started "Throm'ka Leyujin. I am he-"
Leyujin interrupted with his thick troll accent, "You be 'ere ta eat sumting, mon. Joo mus' be starvin'."
"Maybe the rooster but I will not eat." Ashenfury said with finality.
"That rooster wouldna taste gud any'ow!" Leyujin laughed and Ashenfury chuckled.
The two walked to Leyujin's hut. It was spartan and primitive. The hut reminded Ashenfury of his office. It was the only walled dwelling the Orc had ever called his own. Leyujin threw some seeds to the rooster that pecked at them slowly. It gained speed and energy as it pecked greedily then cawed for more.
"I will need somebody to protect an item of great value. There is none other that I would have protect my instrument of war." Ashenfury said. Leyujin expressed surprise but allowed the Orc to continue. "A shamanic rite will cause the shell that is my body to perish. I ask that you take the axe from my hand and bring it to your village when that time comes." Ashenfury looked down at the rooster that was once again flapping it's wings in protest at being caged. It showed a healthy surge of energy from the food.
"O' course mon, but what's dis mess with yer rites and such?" Leyujin replied.
Ashenfury looked at him for a moment moment and then stood from the stool. He lifted the caged rooster and said "Enemies of both the Nether and Azeroth may seek this blade. It must remain in the hands of The Grim.". As he finished he stepped out of the hut and started to head off. Annoyingly the troll followed him out... Ashenfury waited for him to say something. They walked to the edge of the village and stopped. Ashenfury nodded to the troll and the troll nodded back.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
The troll warrior was no stranger to spirits, as spending time in the company of shamans tends to rub off on you, but Ashenfury’s request took him beyond familiar territory. One of his closest comrades was choosing to… dissolve his physical self, and had more or less entrusted his friend with some grave goods. Whatever Ashenfury was doing with himself, with his body gone Leyu’jin considered that as close to death as makes no odds. That he was going to carry and enshrine his brother’s spirit weapon was a serious task.
Two of his seasoned veteran trolls would accompany him as guards back to the village; they were among the best Boa’drak could offer, and that was good enough. He’d used his sway with the witch doctors of the town that each would contribute to a magical ward for the axe. More than one would probably defend it with their life. By now, the word of the Grim was as good as gold to the Skymane tribe.
However, this was going to be done right. He’d make sure he had a trusted Grim to escort the weapon back to the village, one familiar with the shadows. He’d sent word to Jez’ri; it was about time she saw his hometown, he planned for more cooperation between his tribe and his guild in the future, and other trolls would make for good ambassadors. The Amani still were regarded highly by the Skymane, even if most of that tribe had perished against the Alliance and the Horde. Old school still held sway with his people.
Hiding the weapon would be better than a fortress, even if that’s what his village was rapidly becoming. The troll sighed and looked through the flap of the tent he was standing in, out to the rapidly rising numbers of watch towers, and, in the middle of the village, the rock and steel spire of a zeppelin tower. He knew of the proper place to store the axe; a spirit weapon would rest well in a crypt, no less that of the Skymane’s ancestors.
Leyu’jin nodded to himself, then lifted his hand and beckoned with just two of his fingers behind him. “Come on boyos, we be goin’.” Hefting his own axe, laying the haft across his shoulders, the troll sauntered out of a tent towards the zeppelin tower. The two Skymane guards, Hakoi and Wachupichu, followed without a word.
Two of his seasoned veteran trolls would accompany him as guards back to the village; they were among the best Boa’drak could offer, and that was good enough. He’d used his sway with the witch doctors of the town that each would contribute to a magical ward for the axe. More than one would probably defend it with their life. By now, the word of the Grim was as good as gold to the Skymane tribe.
However, this was going to be done right. He’d make sure he had a trusted Grim to escort the weapon back to the village, one familiar with the shadows. He’d sent word to Jez’ri; it was about time she saw his hometown, he planned for more cooperation between his tribe and his guild in the future, and other trolls would make for good ambassadors. The Amani still were regarded highly by the Skymane, even if most of that tribe had perished against the Alliance and the Horde. Old school still held sway with his people.
Hiding the weapon would be better than a fortress, even if that’s what his village was rapidly becoming. The troll sighed and looked through the flap of the tent he was standing in, out to the rapidly rising numbers of watch towers, and, in the middle of the village, the rock and steel spire of a zeppelin tower. He knew of the proper place to store the axe; a spirit weapon would rest well in a crypt, no less that of the Skymane’s ancestors.
Leyu’jin nodded to himself, then lifted his hand and beckoned with just two of his fingers behind him. “Come on boyos, we be goin’.” Hefting his own axe, laying the haft across his shoulders, the troll sauntered out of a tent towards the zeppelin tower. The two Skymane guards, Hakoi and Wachupichu, followed without a word.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Ashenfury had arrived at the Bloodhoof village hours ago. Tauren ambled in and out of the large tent filled with trainers. Ashenfury sat cross legged and rigid with his eyes closed. The tusks seemed to protrude from the skin and the eyes were sunken. The Orc looked tired.
A ring of tauren warriors were outside of the tent grunting after each thud of defeat. Ashenfury could deal with this race of warriors. Across from him sat the Bloodhoof Shaman in a similar pose. The rooster flapped it's wings against the cage and cawed. The cage was beside the Orc and the rooster was staring directly at him.
Awatu stepped in quietly and took a seat at the circle. The three sat in silence aside from the cawing rooster. Each time the bird cawed Ashenfury's brow would wrinkle further down. Caw... Caww. The furled brow turned into a scowl and the Orc moved as a flash putting his hands around the cage and lifting it to eye level. The Orc shook the cage and growled. Awatu and the Bloofhoof Shaman looked to one another in surprise. Ashenfury put the cage down in an attempt to calm himself.
Ashenfury looked to Awatu. Both Shaman could see now how haggard the Orc had become. The heavy patter of passing kodo receded into the distance before Ashenfury spoke, "I came to request a favor. I will need a drum made. The materials are of your choosing but you must make it and you must be the one to drum it.". Awatu nodded in understanding. Many Shamans had different rituals which required the use of a drum. Ashenfury continued "I am being called to the Nether. I will know the drum in my spirit. I will hear it's rhythm and use it as a sailor uses a lighthouse. It will act as a beacon to which I can return. Without it I will be lost in the Twisting Nether.". Awatu's eyes widened as the understanding of the ritual came over him. The Tauren again closed his eyes and sat rigidly in concentration. Ashenfury appreciated the lack of questions and stood.
The Orc looked down at the cage and grumbled before giving it a kick and lifting it up to continue to the Guild Hall. There would soon be a meeting to attend to.
A ring of tauren warriors were outside of the tent grunting after each thud of defeat. Ashenfury could deal with this race of warriors. Across from him sat the Bloodhoof Shaman in a similar pose. The rooster flapped it's wings against the cage and cawed. The cage was beside the Orc and the rooster was staring directly at him.
Awatu stepped in quietly and took a seat at the circle. The three sat in silence aside from the cawing rooster. Each time the bird cawed Ashenfury's brow would wrinkle further down. Caw... Caww. The furled brow turned into a scowl and the Orc moved as a flash putting his hands around the cage and lifting it to eye level. The Orc shook the cage and growled. Awatu and the Bloofhoof Shaman looked to one another in surprise. Ashenfury put the cage down in an attempt to calm himself.
Ashenfury looked to Awatu. Both Shaman could see now how haggard the Orc had become. The heavy patter of passing kodo receded into the distance before Ashenfury spoke, "I came to request a favor. I will need a drum made. The materials are of your choosing but you must make it and you must be the one to drum it.". Awatu nodded in understanding. Many Shamans had different rituals which required the use of a drum. Ashenfury continued "I am being called to the Nether. I will know the drum in my spirit. I will hear it's rhythm and use it as a sailor uses a lighthouse. It will act as a beacon to which I can return. Without it I will be lost in the Twisting Nether.". Awatu's eyes widened as the understanding of the ritual came over him. The Tauren again closed his eyes and sat rigidly in concentration. Ashenfury appreciated the lack of questions and stood.
The Orc looked down at the cage and grumbled before giving it a kick and lifting it up to continue to the Guild Hall. There would soon be a meeting to attend to.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
The construction of a drum is easy enough, but on such short notice, acquiring fresh materials would not work. No time to skin an animal and tan the hide, prepare the leather straps, or hollow out a shell. No, the materials do not need to be fresh, but it must be constructed by himself.
A dense wooden shell for the cylinder will give it a deep and rich sound that would carry for many valleys and hills, and across worlds with the right enchantments. The leather hide of a strong kodo bull killed on a young one's first hunt will keep the drum from weathering for a lifetime. Tight zhevra leather for the straps to hold the pieces together. Feathers, claws, and teeth decorate the rims while obscure figures dance along its sides.
Not as large as a war drum for a kodo, but not as small a one made for dancing. It will need to be blessed by the waters of a Seer, and then, it would be ready. Awatu had his vision for the drum. He saw what he needed and gathered them. And with that, he began to build it.
A dense wooden shell for the cylinder will give it a deep and rich sound that would carry for many valleys and hills, and across worlds with the right enchantments. The leather hide of a strong kodo bull killed on a young one's first hunt will keep the drum from weathering for a lifetime. Tight zhevra leather for the straps to hold the pieces together. Feathers, claws, and teeth decorate the rims while obscure figures dance along its sides.
Not as large as a war drum for a kodo, but not as small a one made for dancing. It will need to be blessed by the waters of a Seer, and then, it would be ready. Awatu had his vision for the drum. He saw what he needed and gathered them. And with that, he began to build it.
Re: Shamanic Rites (The War of the Nether)
Ashenfury was alone in his office. He stood in front of his weapon rack in a swoon. Unaware of his surroundings he stared into the eye sockets of the painted skulls on the weapon rack and could hear the chattering of his long dead enemies. He leaned drunkenly to the side.
The guild hall was bustling with action in preparations for the meeting. Two supplicants each with an armful of tabard materials bumped into one another. Grendze was in the corner rolling dice with several Grim. The goblin shrieked as he lost a small pile of gold to the retired Guduk who laughed and leaned against his shield which was propped against the wall for support. The twins were in another corner far from the hearth and mired in shadows. They snickered to each other no doubt scheming something. The main room grew silent as Abric stepped through. He stopped in the room and looked around for intended effect before moving onward and allowing the idle chatter to continue.
Ashenfury shook his head and grabbed the axe from the weapon rack. The small fireplace that had gone mainly unused was filled with the strange assortments of odds and ends that one finds in their pack. The Orc had made just enough room in his main bag to store the contents of his book shelf and the painted skulls on the weapon rack. He tied the draw string of the bag to the rooster cage and hung it from his shoulder. With his free hand he pulled the axe from the weapon rack and left the stonework office.
The Orc ambled down the long hallway of inquisition. The skulls were taunting him. Distracting him even from this short walk. He stopped suddenly and realized he was near to bowling over Kailei. The blood elf looked at him and blinked with her large eyes. She greeted him cheerfully "Hey Ash!".
The rooster cage and pack smacked each other as a result of the change in momentum. The rooster cawed and Kailei looked confused. "Kailei, when I leave someone will need to take the burden of my enemies." Ashenfury stated simply. After the meeting these reasons will be obvious but you must be the one to take these skulls that I carry now." Ashenfury shook the bag causing the skulls to make a hollow clacking sound. Kailei started to ask a question but the Orc interrupted her, "In one moon go to the summit of dormant flame. The ceremony will have long ended. Take the skulls at the summit and keep them. To distract them from me I will need your thoughts. Bring me your musings your writings anything physical to the meeting." Ashenfury had already started walking off before he had even finished to avoid questions from the elf. It would all be evident to her soon enough.
The guild hall was bustling with action in preparations for the meeting. Two supplicants each with an armful of tabard materials bumped into one another. Grendze was in the corner rolling dice with several Grim. The goblin shrieked as he lost a small pile of gold to the retired Guduk who laughed and leaned against his shield which was propped against the wall for support. The twins were in another corner far from the hearth and mired in shadows. They snickered to each other no doubt scheming something. The main room grew silent as Abric stepped through. He stopped in the room and looked around for intended effect before moving onward and allowing the idle chatter to continue.
Ashenfury shook his head and grabbed the axe from the weapon rack. The small fireplace that had gone mainly unused was filled with the strange assortments of odds and ends that one finds in their pack. The Orc had made just enough room in his main bag to store the contents of his book shelf and the painted skulls on the weapon rack. He tied the draw string of the bag to the rooster cage and hung it from his shoulder. With his free hand he pulled the axe from the weapon rack and left the stonework office.
The Orc ambled down the long hallway of inquisition. The skulls were taunting him. Distracting him even from this short walk. He stopped suddenly and realized he was near to bowling over Kailei. The blood elf looked at him and blinked with her large eyes. She greeted him cheerfully "Hey Ash!".
The rooster cage and pack smacked each other as a result of the change in momentum. The rooster cawed and Kailei looked confused. "Kailei, when I leave someone will need to take the burden of my enemies." Ashenfury stated simply. After the meeting these reasons will be obvious but you must be the one to take these skulls that I carry now." Ashenfury shook the bag causing the skulls to make a hollow clacking sound. Kailei started to ask a question but the Orc interrupted her, "In one moon go to the summit of dormant flame. The ceremony will have long ended. Take the skulls at the summit and keep them. To distract them from me I will need your thoughts. Bring me your musings your writings anything physical to the meeting." Ashenfury had already started walking off before he had even finished to avoid questions from the elf. It would all be evident to her soon enough.