Shaped through Storms

[L0rdLawyer 2272]

 

 

“The World was born from the Air and Water, Fire and Earth.

Yet Metal and Storms shaped the world.”

 

Those were the words heard as Ral awoke from his deep sleep. With a quick glance all around him, spinning in a circle, there was nothing. The Uruk quickly realized where he was.

 

It was just minutes ago, he was in the realm of the Descendants praying atop of the peaks of the Dwarven hills. Pots filled with green, salt, and sulfur blazed with golden flames as the carcass of a dead Lur Wolf lay cut open, it’s guts scattered as the snow began to cover the blood and the uruk himself.

 

Then seconds later, the Sky filled with a bright light and all the Uruk could smell was burning flesh as his vision faded in and out. He could not move, he could not breathe, he just laid there motionless, waiting, and waiting, for that is all he could do.

 

Yet when those words were spoken, Ral awoke from his trance. In the Realm of the Spirits. His hands lowered to his side, pulling his war axe free as he readied himself, preparing to meet whatever Spirit has taken him.

 

“Show yourself.” Ral cried out, spinning in endless circles, just trying to find the form the spirit would take. Yet after moments of silence, the dark void was filled with the sound of a voice of thunder.

“You know who I am already, uruk.” the voice responded.

 

“The lightning, the clouds, and your voice, you are a Spirit of Storms.”

“Correct young Uruk, and if I was too ask who you were, I would receive the name of a Dead Uruk, an Uruk cast away many years ago. Life and Death, Order and Chaos, Time and Space, Light and Darkness have each touched upon you, leaving a mark that shall not fade, not even the day Iblees lays siege in our realm. Now speak Hu-din, why do you call upon me.”

 

“I call upon many spirits for many reasons. Yet with each one, over time the agenda changes and I fight battles I should have never touched at any age in my life. I am here readying myself for the next battle that is soon to come, and we all must be ready.”

 

“You have walked away from the War Nation, you have walked away from your family. From the smallest of Lurs to the greatest of Doms, you fled them. Krug spoke to you himself, speaking the harsh words that you needed to hear, yet you turned your back on him and broke the last tether you had to the Great Realms. Your body is covered with scars not from Battle, not from War, not from Death, but Scars placed by the Spirits. Why should I aid you in preparing for the next battle when you have spoken the words that you shall not return.”

 

“The War Nation is all I left. The Great Lords told me to return home, and that I did. But now I must begin building an Army. An Army of Spirits and Uruks, Ascended and Descendants, to fight in the next war. When Iblees and the Corrupted open the Heavens and ride down on the Dark Dragaars, the Spirit’s Vanguard shall be the first to fight.”

 

“With one motion, Order can resolve any War. With one motion, Life can revert the corrupted back to their original forms. Why do they call upon you to fight their wars?”

 

“All of us, Uruks and Spirits, have worked to give these Lands life until it’s very last breath. Throughout any challenge, the Spirits and Descendants have worked together under Krug’s Orders, yet he is gone. Others now must take our weapons from the mantle’s and begin preparing as the Lawless continue on the wrong path.”

 

“Very well young Uruk. I, Fordim, Spirit of Storms, Ruler of Clouds, and the Third Great Storm, shall aid your army. You shall have my rain, my snow, my lightning, and you shall have all those who follow me behind you. Be there anything else you wish to say?”

 

“Through the Earth we are born, through the Storms we are shaped.”

 

And with those final words, a second bolt struck the lone Uruk, giving his heart a second wind as his essence returned. He pushed himself from the ground and stared at his hands. His face turned to a grin behind his bone mask as the static sparked off his hands.

 

“And I have been shaped.”

[Pieman 1134]

Gurak hears Hu-Din's tale, exhaling deeply. "Mi'z brudda'z guin big.."