Entering The Spirit Realm

[Tom_Whiteman 949]

 [Translated into common]

 

 Zogrocka walks out of the Shaman camp, looking at the herbs Grool supplied him. He gives them a light sniff, no scent filling his nose. He shrugs as he walks to the gate, the gatekeeper opening the gate for him, closing it afterwards.

  Zogrocka puts the herbs in his herb pouch walking to his palace, not before picking some carrots to eat on the way. He points his finger at the lever to the gate of his palace, the lever switches downwards, opening the gate.

 

  The Shaman opens the door to his small low-rise hut, making his way down the staircase to his lower levels. A bonfire is in the main corridor, which splits into four different rooms. Zogrocka walks up to the fire, evaluating it closely. He grunts as he goes to grab more wood, stacking it on the roaring fire.

 

   Satisfied with the fire, the shaman takes out some of the donated herb, crushing it in his hand as he throws it on the fire. The fire booms, the flames rising to the ceiling as they die back down, a thick smoke emitting from the fire, filling the room.

  Zogrocka stands on his toes, inhaling the smoke as he drops down, getting into a cross-legged position. The Shaman closes his eyes, clearing his mind as he narrows his thoughts on the white birch tree he saw months earlier.

 

  The same bright light appears again, the birch tree becoming clearer. Zogrocka turns his head, seeing a forest of white trees, though the birch tree standing the tallest. He takes a step, the soft grass brushing against his feet... He exhales, smiling as he looks about the newly discovered realm.

 

 

  The Shaman begins walking, coming to a small pond. He tilts his head upwards as he looks into the sky. The sky is filled with multiple colours, all being bright shades. Zogrocka stops as he admires the sky for a moment, in complete awe.

  The Shaman wanders through the forest for hours, feeling the wood on the trees, giving off a surprisingly smooth texture. He begins to come to the edge of the forest, tree stumps are seen as he leaves, the soft grass becoming dead, then later a hard sandstone.

 

  As Zogrocka wanders past the forest, the plain begins to look more like a battlefield, the sandstone blood red, trenches, catapults, boulders, dead soldiers lay across the ground. Zogrocka shivers as he looks into the sky, now a crimson red colour. Small mountains form, the further the shaman wanders the taller they get.

 

 

  Zogrocka shivers as he looks around, coming to a narrow valley, a thick red fog covering his vision. The fog slowly clears, a ruined castle at the end of the valley. The shaman feels an odd spiritual pulse come from the fort, out of curiosity, he walks towards the gate entrance, the gate left open.

   He begins to wander up the steps to the castle, chipped and cracked. Ladders and wood litter the ground, swords laying across the steps.

 

   Zogrocka enters the keep of the castle, walking along a red carpet. He looks left and right, red quartz pillars untouched and left clean. He makes his way up a short stairway, coming into a throne room. His eyes narrow, sitting in the throne a large Orc, covered head to toe in thick iron armor.

   The Shaman wanders closer to the armored spirit, quirking a brow. He opens his mouth, pausing for a moment before he finally asks, "Who are you?

 

 The armored spirit's helmet cranks up, metal screeching as it echoes through the halls of the castle. A groan is heard before speaking, "Who are you?" Asks the spirit

  Zogrocka's eyes flicker slightly at the question "I'm Shaman Zogrocka'Sandru'Krathol," he says, squinting his eyes slightly as he approaches the spirit.

  The spirit nods, the rusted metal on his helmet making a loud screeching noise "A Sandru... Your clan serves me well," says the spirit, slowly getting up out of his throne.

  Grunts as he furrows his brow. He stutters slightly before speaking, taking a gulp as he speaks up "You're a spirit?" He asks "You know of my clan?"

 

  The spirit nods once again "Of course I know of your clan if I'm a spirit," it says in a cunning tone, his voice echoing through his armor, projecting it through the castle's halls.

  "How has my clan served you well?" Asks Zogrocka

  "It has served me in many things," says the spirit, walking to the left, towards a large doorway. He enters the room, Zogrocka following after him. The Shaman enters the room, looking around, studying it. He purses his lips at what seems to be a war hall.

 In the center of the room is a table, a large map spread, the spirit hunching over it. "You're the spirit of what exactly?" Asks Zogrocka, going to stand across from the spirit, at the other end of the table.

 The spirit looks up at Zogrocka, giving off a shrug "Take a guess," it says as it looks back down at the map.

 

  Zogrocka takes his hands off the table, looking around at the room with close eyes. He scratches his large chin, his nose scrunching "Spirit of death," says Zogrocka, looking over to the spirit. The spirit shakes his head slowly, eyes fixed on the map. "Spirit of anger," says Zogrocka a few moments later, the spirit again shakes his head as he watches over the map closely.

 Zogrocka ponders about the landscape for a few moments, snapping his fatty fingers as he speaks out, "Spirit of war!"

 The spirit looks up from the map, nodding "Yes, it took you long enough," it says, looking back down at the map. Zogrocka opens his mouth, but quickly shutting it. He looks down at the map as he squints his eyes. Large dots on the map slowly travel across the paper, heading out of Gronkkston and towards Storm's Crossing.

 

  Zogrocka looks up from the paper "You still haven't told me your name," he says, closing his mouth quick after.

  The spirit looks up form the map once again, giving off a sigh "Enrohk," it says as it takes its hands off the mapping table "And what do you suppose to do with it?"

  Zogrocka shrugs "To know it," he says with a stubborn reply.

  Enrohk grunts "I suppose you're a Farseer," he says as he walks back into his throne room, standing infront of his throne, Zogrocka following close behind

  "Yes I am," says Zogrocka, standing beside Enrohk

   Enrohk points to a symbol engraved into his quartz throne. Two bastard swords with crossed blades "Remember this," he says as Zogrocka squints his eyes, observing the marking. Enrohk sits back down in his throne, looking to Zogrocka as he taps his foot.

  Zogrocka sighs, looking at the marking as he furrows both his brows. His vision becomes blurry as the throne room disappears, a bright red light being seen as everything turns to black...

 

  Zogrocka opens his eyes, looking at the burnt out fire, his eyes red and bloodshot. He lays down, taking a deep breath as he goes to rest.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.