His last words ... Or not ...

[HedgeHug 2049]

Spoiler

All Blah spoken by Shagarath has been translated to Common for ease of read.

A cold breeze hit the old uruk Shagarath as he made his way through San`Traka to his home as he froze in place upon the sight of a mali wandering around. Much he marvelled this sudden appearance of such individual in this place . . . The orcish capital that is . . . The uruk approached whilst dragging his half-functional left leg with him. His full weight pressed onto the bark staff in his hands.

 

“U-ug?” He exclaimed nearly inquiring “What is an elf, doing in San`Traka?” he tilted his head, a curious expression on his visage.

 

“I`m searching for my husband, Phaedrus” Siri spoke in a hushed tone, visibly upset. Her face was pale in the light of the moon above them. The silence afterwards broken by the old orc answering “He lies in the Blarg of Vorgo, I shall guide you” he offered as their loneliness was broken at the sudden arrival of a trio of elves and Vorgo himself. A small exchange of words explained that the three were there for Siri. Vorgo himself addressing the elf with pity. “He is in my Blargh, yes. Take him with you” he gestured to the old uruk next to him. Shagarath answered with a silent nod. Vorgo added: “He could be of use.” To which Shagarath grinned, the elder uruk and Siri entered the Blargh.

 

The Casket stood open in the home, a certain odor of death and rot mixed with that of flowers to fight said scents. Shagarath seated himself as he allowed Siri to approach the body of her husband. She sank down next to it, weeping and speaking hushed words to the cold and pale body in the casket. Shagarath himself remaining quiet for some time but soon inhaling and speaking in a low voice. “Are there, any words.. You wish to say to your husband?” He inquired. “Y-yes..” She stammered turning to him, she gazed over the elder and concluded: “Are you a s-shaman?” To which he nodded. “What words would these words be?”

 

“I`d tell him I love him.” She pleaded, “That I am in pain with every living moment with his loss. But tell him I`m proud of him.” She spoke whilst staring at the body again. “That I would never trade ever loving him.” She concludes, scrunching her eyes tightly to squeeze out the blurry tears in her eyes.

 

Shagarath nodded. “Anything else? It`s.. complicated but.. You will not be able to hear or see him. I will visit him, in his Realm.” He explained.

 

“Can you ask him something for me?” Siri inquired to which Shagarath nodded and gestured her to elaborate. “Ask him… ask him if he has any regrets and… I want to know if he was satisfied with this.” She coughs, feeling her throat constrict.

 

Shagarath smiled “Surely, that is no problem.” he said taking Phaedrus` staff and laying it on his lap. “You better take a seat, this might take a while.” He said. Siri nodded solemnly, lying tightly on the bodies chest. Ignoring the unnatural stench emitting from the corpse she closed her eyes.

 

Shagarath looks at the staff mumbling to himself “This will do” Before tapping the wood with his right hand. He stabilizes his breathing, in and exhaling deeply as his eyes close. His left hand, entangled in bone chains, start shaking in a rhythm. The sound of the rattling bones filling the blarg with its distinct sound. And on this rhythm the orcs his chant: His voice deep, the words ancient in the tongue of the old orc. Every now and then the name Phaedrus heard in between murmured chanting. He grips the staff on his lap with his free hand, his vision fades. His head leaning forward. He appears to be sleeping.

 

Vision returned, all seen was a dark fog surrounding the old shaman. A silence coming with it. Shagarath looks around him, standing up and venturing off into the fog. After a while of searching the uruk falls onto his knees into the soil on which he stood. “Shit” he exclaimed, knowing he was lost. The silence was broken however… for footsteps approached.

 

From the fog it came, the ground shaking as the giant green hue`d turtle came to a stop. It addressed Shagarath in the old tongue, after which the orc nodded, stood up and mounted the Spirit.

 

As they travel the fog starts to fade, revealing their surroundings to them. A humongous forest bordered the path on which they walked. From deep within the hammering on an anvil was heard, echoing through the woods.

 

Phaedrus arches his brow slightly toward the approaching uruk, ceasing his work at the anvil of his forge, leaning off of it with hammer still in hand. Finally he cracks a grin before calling out: “What`s up, brother?”

 

“Hello” The old orc replied, standing in front of the forge. He dips his head out of respect. “I am good. Good to see you, Phaedrus.” The orc spoke approaching the elf. “I am here, on behalf of your wife.” Spoken with some concern crossing his visage. “I was requested to adress you with her words, her questions.” To which Phaedrus answered “Hm, I see.”

 

The elf cleared his throat briefly before crossing his arms, looking up at the orc afterward. “I suppose there`s no point in waiting then. Go ahead.” He gestured. Shagarath cleared his throat in a more awkward fashion, repeating Siri`s words to him: “She loves you, a lot. She is proud of you, yet your passing pains her. She inquired me to ask you, the following: Do you have, any regrets?” The orc inquired on behalf of Siri.

 

Phaedrus chuckled quietly after hearing the question, rubbing at the side of his nose as he shakes his head slowly. “Ah… goodness. Ofcourse I do” he pleaded. “Could you imagine my shame? Losing to that whelp of a witchdoctor … Laureh`Lin made me softer than I expected it to.” Shagarath joined in his laughter. “It`s not a problem… from what I hear all the orcs respect you. And I suspect Khurak has his regrets.” Phaedrus nodded. “Mmm.. Thats`s some comfort, I suppose… Ah yes.. That`s right: I`m a Spirit now. I need to start worrying about my influence in your Realm, don't I? That's going to be… Tedious...” He laughed. “Yes” Shagarath spoke “You have a responsibility.”

 

“It never ******* ends…” Phaedrus spoke softly, shagarath replying “I will not be the only one to speak with you, though I am the first. I am proud to be so.” The elf answered in honour: “Much obliged, brother, the honor is mine as well. I suppose I should get on with answering your question then, I`ll spare you the more private details, but… Everyday I spend here, away from her, I will regret. So on so forth… you get the picture. Romance."

“Yes” The orc gagged in his mind at his phrasing but noted it nonetheless. “I shall tell her. Also.. she wished to know if you were… satisfied..” He inquried. The answer short, simple yet deep: “Only if she was.”

 

Shagarath swallowed, nodding and confirming he noted his answer and placed both hands on the shoulders of the elf. “That was all… for now.” Phaedrus chuckled darkly before rearing his head back, throwing his body forward in turn to headbutt the orc with a roar “GUG’YE!!”

 

Shagarath`s vision faded as he was launched. He waked up back in the blargh and spoke with Siri about the conversation he had with Phaedrus. Tears were shed, comfort given. And soon after that the elves and orcs went their separate ways. Shagarath build a shrine in his yard in honour of Phaedrus. Though, this wouldn't be the last time they spoke.

 

Spoiler

By far the best spirit rp I`ve had until now. Its great to use it in a non-selfish way and out of combat for a change. 

 

 

[shimmeringbliss 268]

It was a unassuming afternoon, that would ruin the rest of her years. At first it was just Tristin, who used her last name to convey his seriousness. A report saying that her husband had died, although through unknown sources. She laughed it off at first. What utter nonsense was he trying to get her to believe in? Then came Dak'ir, who too played the same fiddle to her.

 

What kind of sick joke is this?

 

She shakes he head wryly at the continuous unassuming statements from her friends. Fools day may have passed, but they were known for poking fun with her at times. Old friends of hers and Phaedrus, surely it was just a prank. And then came in Kairn. A crazy individual who almost never joked, a vast contrast to his father.

 

"He's dead, Siri."

 

Powerful words struck her firm foundation this time. Maybe the son finally took after the father? How much wine did they need to convince Kairn to lie?

 

"The envoy of Yar came to find his kin."

 

She rejected the hammerblow of words, fending them off weakly with pitiful excuses and demands for logic. All which dried up when Vorgo'Yar stepped in the tavern, a lone figure in a tavern full of Mali, all eager to see what has brought the King, his men, and an orc to the tavern.

 

"Phaedrus was a good man."

Why are they all writing him off? What have all of you done?

 

Fear seized her insides as she numbly accepts the words from the stranger orc, before he finally lumped the belongings of her husband upon the cedar counter. A bluesteel falchion, a book, a cane, and.....

 

"He always keeps this on him...." She holds a small pendant up to her gaze, trembling greatly in fear.
 

A totem carved of jade and amethyst, in the shape of a turtleback with a purple tree etched upon its back. The symbol of Yar, the representation of her husband. He would never leave it in the hands of someone else. The worst has happened.

 

 

She railed and yelled, unable to accept the reality. Maybe he was robbed? Maybe he was hurt? She could still make it to his side! Flinging on a violet cloak, she slipped past her concerned minders, traveling to War Uzg to confront her fears and doubts. Her dainty footfalls seem entirely out of place of the high halls of sandstone, treading lightly to avoid any overly curious orcs.

 

A kindly old orc helps her along the way, before being confronted by the very same envoy she met earlier. Some desperate pleading, and he relented, letting him and her enter the resting chambers of Phaedrus.

 

 

A pale, gaunt corpse lays within a lacquered casket, hands folded across his chest in piece, still wearing his fur and green robes. His cheeks and eyes have sunken, although it has only been just a scant few days. Tears start to streak from her eyes as she lays her sights upon the love of her life, now devoid of both love and life.

 

 

 

"Why did you have to leave me, when you promised to never leave my side again...?"

 

Sweet, hollow words were muttered with love and grief to the emancipated corpse, stranger to love and emotions, now that the essence of him has since left the mortal plane. Selfish anger, overwhelming sadness, pitfalls of regret, emotions and feelings to which a corpse can care not for. But the old orc suddenly speaks up, as she lays her head over her lover's chest, offering her a chance to part with her husband. Resolution quietly formed behind her teary eyes, thinking deeply on what she had to say.

 

 

On 5/13/2016 at 4:25 AM, Hedgehug said:

“I`d tell him I love him.” She pleaded, “That I am in pain with every living moment with his loss. But tell him I`m proud of him.” She spoke whilst staring at the body again. “That I would never trade ever loving him.” She concludes, scrunching her eyes tightly to squeeze out the blurry tears in her eyes.

 

The orc known as Shagarath soon returned, to bear his reply.

 

"I would never be satisfied with this, having our marriage cut short like that." She replies bitterly, letting loose a deep sigh as she strokes his brittle hair, feeling it fall through her fingers like a delicate work of art. The orc left her in peace, as she continued her last, final moments of intimacy with his shell.

 

"You were my life for 50 years, and my friend for over 100 years. You took my strength with you when you said you would protect me, you took my boldness when you said you loved me. Now all that I have left for you are my tears and hollow heart. I dont know if I could keep on living without you, my dear chestnut. Every time I threw a tantrum, you would always be there to calm me, to soothe me. Yet if I throw one now, I would only dishonour your memory. I hate you, Phaedrus."

 

Tears and snoot continue to fall, as she continued this farce, this futile act of communication. Was it in vain hopes that he could hear, from that distant realm of spirits? Or perhaps a way to vent, least she would die from this welling of regret deep inside of her. She pressed her lips against the dry, cold lips of her former lover, before she left the room.

 

A small crowd awaited her at the foot of Vorgo's home as she descended from his stairs, glancing about the small congregation with blood shot eyes. A mixture of orcs and elves, even a kha, standing before an anvil with a pile of small litter strewn at its foot. When they saw her, they parted from the anvil, with sad smiles etched upon each of their faces.

 

 

Breads, flowers, meats, bones. All assortments of gifts laid to her love, heartfelt gratitude washed over her as she finally broke and cried incessantly, threatening to fall to her knees at this small display of kindness that overwhelmed her. He may have been a solitary wolf, but he still had those who appreciated him, who respected him, who were friends with him, who will above all, miss him with her. This small little shrine in the middle of an orcish blarg, represented all that was good and worthy of him. And thats why it broke her heart, so many times over to see everyone finally accept the reality of his death.

 

She thanked them all after recovering her voice, responding with a cracked voice for honouring her husband's memory. Another elderly orc invited her for a walk, and they both stood and chatted as they talked of remembrance and life's unstoppable pace. They all promised to meet tomorrow, at the funeral.

 

 

The funeral day finally came, after a long sleepless night in the cold bed. Where once she wouldn't have minded the absent husband off killing dragons and saving the world, this time, she knew for dreaded certainty, there would never be another welcome home. As the sun rose, she set off to the orcish city once more, waiting silently for the procession to start.

 

A small group of elves and orcs stood in attendance, standing side by side of the dessert mule as it was brought to a small structure upon a large sand dune. Siri glanced around those in attendance, she barely knew any of them at all. The nice old orcs were there, but Thurak, Dakir, and Horgath were nowhere in sight, her husband's oldest friends. Some who barely knew him, some who didn't even know him came, although they were swiftly chased away. She was tired of trying to ask about their relationship with her husband like a jealous wife. She was tired of everything.

 

As the orc shaman danced as the casket was lowered, epitaphs were recited by the orcs and elves alike. She had little else to say, knowing that her words would mean little to nothing, to those who knew her husband, and to those who didn't. In his death, for a brief moment, orcs and elves came together to show respect to their friend. And that was all that mattered that day.

 

Except she would trade war with them, any of them, to only have her true love back.

 

((To those who participated, thank you very much for this amazing rp. It was honestly the best I had on the server, I had to pause sometimes because it was too intense! Thank you very much for this memory ^^))

 

 

[HedgeHug 2049]

The sun sets, as Siri leaves the grave of her husband. The elder uruk by the name of shagarath remains seated, meditating. Her last words bugging him: "I say what I allways do, but without a reply now."

 

 

The spirit offers the Elder uruk guidance in the fields of Farseeing.

 

[shimmeringbliss 268]

Yay apples!

[Angmarzku 1251]

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