Kotrestruu's Visit

[Boomzerang 509]

Gâmum Kotrestruu-ob

Kotrestruu’s Visit

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Most every orc raised among orcs has heard the tale of their first ancestor’s demise. The first orc, Krug, brother of Horen, and of Urguan, and of Malin, cursed by Iblees for his defiance in the face of greed, lust and envy. This curse gnawed at his mind, and to this day still gnaws at the minds of his children, an ever-present pull to release themselves from what remains of their mercy in exchange for endless devastation.

 

And yet, the uruks, difficult as it may be, define themselves not by their bloodlust. After Iblees had been defeated, the four descendant brothers were blessed, just as they had been cursed. Krug, like his brothers, was not expunged of his curse, but rather given a blessing to aid in combating it - in his case, that of honour, and valor.

 

It is the clashing of these supernatural yearnings that Kotrestruu’s Visit is said to rest upon.

 

“...during that first week, I remembered - or recorded. The lines have become all too blurred recently - the feeling of recalling a tale of a hunt from the month before, only to be corrected time and again on every detail…”

 

Despite its name, this malady has little to do with the orcish spirit of memory, beyond wisps of legends passed through word of mouth by the more superstitious. Instead, it is believed to be brought upon by the mind’s attempt at balancing the two unstoppable forces that pull on it in opposing directions.

 

To an outsider, those affected by the early stages of Kotrestruu’s Visit appear to suffer only very mild memory fog - chalked up to some physical trauma of the head, or simply to old age. This symptom seemingly always comes paired with a complete loss of memory when relenting to bloodlust, something that even in healthy orcs is not all too uncommon as their minds suppress the morbid pleasure in massacre that they must endure.

 

Even one suffering under it may ignore it, in hopes that each detail forgotten was not in fact forgotten entirely, but rather misremembered in the moment.

 

Unfortunately, the sickness instead rapidly worsens over the course of a few Saints’ weeks.

 

“...By my fifth visit to the witch doctor, which I remembered only as my second, it became clear that my mind had been playing tricks on me. I have records that I suspected a curse from one of my brothers, perhaps some mage I had angered…”

 

Indeed, as an orc reaches his latter years, his body weakens, as does his mind - both are reduced from precise instruments honed for their particular jobs, to ineffective at best mockeries of their previous states.

 

Despite the superficial similarities to other similar afflictions, Kotrestruu’s Visit differs in that its victim at no point forgets themselves, nor acts markedly differently from how they would before their condition - bar a few caveats. Among these is the overcompensation of the mind in the recall of emotions and interactions, in its bold attempt to placate its host, and the decisions made as a result.

 

“...That day - I have it written here. That day, I had gotten to know a brother far better than I had prior. The next week, I journaled being told that the same brother had spoken against me - that I had not spoken to him in months before then…”

 

Beyond the four Saints’ week mark, those under the effects of the malady are relinquished to one of two fates - to either continue their lives as ‘normal’, abdicating from the ability to trust in their own experiences, or indeed the second, more common option, especially among those orcs that have grown wise in their age. That is, to record their thoughts in a less corruptible medium.

 

Orcs, by nature of their curse, are often emotion-driven. Their bloodlust makes it difficult at times to differentiate a superficially unkind action taken by a friend for some benefit in the long run, or a backstabbing from some dishonourable fool wishing only to further their agenda. As such, they are conditioned to trust their gut, their instinct, when the time comes to judge. When this instinct is based on every prior experience, which has now been lost, forgotten, or even butchered beyond recognition, the job of judging others becomes exponentially more difficult.

 

Often, it is easy to distinguish between the house of a normal orc and one ailed by Kotrestruu’s Visit. Where the former will hang treasures and trophies from wall to wall, priding himself in his accomplishments and the challenges that came with them, the latter instead stacks notes on papers on books, all recounting how they felt during some hunt or fight - some more organised, dated and archived such that events can always be found, others chaotically strewn about the place, pages torn from the insides of pocket journals, where whichever orc is affected by the sickness knows only his memories from the week before.

 

Regardless of the case, both are cursed further than when they were born - cursed to know not their own emotions, rather to have them described by books and sheets, hastily scribbled for fear of being unable to recollect mere hours after the event.

 

There are few remedies for this disease, though even these are temporary. A shaman may aid with spirits of mental comfort, a haruspex may recall some great tale to abate the symptoms, but these are only temporary cures. A shaman speaks on the spirits, a haruspex the body, but Kotrestruu’s Visit is a disease of the mind. 

A wizened seer is called, often one who dwells far away from orcish civilization, where the cursed afflictions of the orcish people are hidden in the dark, and the bright light of the Stargush’Stroh shines from above. An Ilzhonak is pulled away from their starry abode, and set to work on the ailing orc’s brain. Most commonly, a complex ritual that can permanently undo the mind-altering disease, or at least banish it to the back of the orc’s mind.