The Firelands Initiative - Orcish Progression

[Qizu 4037]

“The destruction of the world is an inevitable one, but something that all must look forward to. Who will be the ones who are the last to fall? The ones that utilize the oncoming crisis? Or even, who will be the ones who cause it.” - Fanzra, the Greater Elemental Spirit of ChaosSkathach, the Greater Elemental of Fire 

Making their way through the dense jungles of Almaris a robed figure had found themselves at the gates of the Iron Uzg. Stepping inside past the hulking beasts of men, commonly referred to as Uruks he had scoured the city gracefully; passing by each hut and stable that plagued the street. Continuing on the cracked paths covered in rubble and dirt he soon found himself staring before wooden shrines, empty slave pits, and barren forges. “What had the Orcs become? For this is not the son’s and daughters of Krug spoken about in tales? The enraged beasts cursed with bloodlust meander through wooden halls and huts who’s roofs would cave in at a moments notice.”

The figure continued their way throughout the nation, their eyes that had once been calm and collected are now wreathed with rage from what such a historic race had become. Change is inevitable. 

“For fire is the essence of growth. Whilst it destroys what lingers around in the present it sets a tone for what is to come in the future. It is the cycle of life, fire-then-rebirth. Take these words into consideration, do not ever forget them and when the time comes you will use them wisely.” - Skathach, the Greater Elemental of Fire





A decree issued onto that of the Rex of the Iron Uzg, Skaatchnak'Izig would contain the following. . . 

Throughout history the orcish race has served as Guardians, Bulwarks, Sentinels, and Warriors of descendent kind. They had numbers which soared unto the millions as their leather-like skin marched into the battlefield. They had utilized the resources of snagas, vassals, tributaries, and many more things. It appears the world has not been so kind to the urukin.

Whilst such tales and stories of what once existed before will soon lay to rest, it is time for you to create your own. What is to become of Skaatchnak? Will he be the Rex who serves as a placeholder of a King? A mock ruler who will only be at rest existing as he was when he began his reign? Or perhaps, will he become something he had never dreamt of becoming? Your nation exists in shambles which can barely take upon the name “huts” and your soldiers are weak and fimble fighting wars and battles for other nations too weak to hold their own. When will this cease? When will the race of urukin place their true grip around the world?

I call upon you Skaatchnak. For your reign is cowardly, it still holds a great deal of potential. Inches from your gates lies a lush, resource filled biome. When will you claim it? When will the gears and the bolts of the Uzg claim the very forest that is before them as the Machine that it was born to be? How much longer will the Empires and Kingdoms surrounding you continue to grow higher and higher above the status that is known as an Orc? How much more? What will you do? When will we rule what is our’s given to us as a birthright? When will the world be ours? How will you grow? How will we conquer? What will you do to show the world the true might of the orcs?

Burn it. 

“Through sacrifice we become stronger. Through hard work and labor we will only go forward. Even if we fall we will stand back up again and persist against our hardships.” - Jevex  Greater Spirit of Order, Hard Work, and Self-Sacrifice 

Throughout the Western Hemisphere of Almaris those near would hear a loud, rumbling noise coming from the direction of the Firelands. Looking towards the western horizon a massive, black pillar of smoke would begin to blot out the sky and that very same horizon would begin to churn clouds of ash that would litter the skies above. The forges of the Iron Uzg have been set aflame as the first rounds of timber had begun to smolder into embers. A change is coming, the land of the orcs will soon be reborn. 

[Perkins 115]

"Burn it all! Burn for the Spirits! For Krug! Let us be reborn anew from fire and ash!" A Red Uruk speaks out from within Krugmar, eager for the initiation of the Firelands.

[SteppeNomad 1552]

Lup Flame Pharoah! Wagh be upon him eternal!, By Krug, the Firelands will become Krugmenistani!

Edited January 7, 2022 by SteppeNomad

[Panashea 2644]

The burnt haruspex rose from vigil, feeling the warmth of the fire stoke his mind. Fervent thoughts of his own transfiguration surge through his mind, guiding him towards a torch.  Without thinking, he marched towards the jungle- that stagnant maw and let forth a raucous howl. Orcs surrounded him bearing the same the desire.  With a furious gaze, the conflagration from his tattered flesh encroached Freygoth's home. The orcs would have their wrath. 

 

THUS BEGAN THE AGE OF FIRE

[ThatDutchFellow 1054]

The Motsham of the Iron Uzg takes in a deep breathe... over the years the Goblin had lived in the unforgiving wastelands that were deserts scowered through the icey cold of the rockey mountains and dwelled through the deepest caves the realms had to offer alas out all of these he knew Urukim was ment to prosper surrounded by the destruction of those who would seek to dwell it "Ghaash nork- uk" the Motsham growled out May Fire Take all in the common tongue

 

Edited January 7, 2022 by ThatDutchFellow

[Gallic 1051]

Within a hermit's blarg, a sleeping Shaman's dreams twist with the growing dissent of a concerned host of spirits. Visions plague her sleep with increasing severity. She sees dark clouds stretching from the west, she feels her body wither and scatter into ash. She is entangled in the earth's fate, and she is crumbling away. In the smoke rising around her, the spirits whisper hateful curses, and a long hand stretches down toward her people.

 

"Tor-urki Krug-dâgrim'u, UK-darûkrim."

One-thousand curses upon the children of Krug, traitors all.

 

"Ufum-Ilzgûl. Ufum-nûrzum'izubu..."

Fear the spirits. Fear our wrath.

 

The hand of smoke entwines its fingers around the citadel of krug-kind, and with fury wrung the life from their lungs.

 

Fiil'Yar awakens from yet another vision, still yet to discover its meaning. Though she was well-known as lazy and slow to act, the spirits of the wild demanded her attention. Rubbing her eyes, groggy, Fiil mumbles; "Perhaps it's time I return to my people."

[Qizu 4037]

His eyes would gaze across the pillaring towers of smoke rising from the monstrous forges recently put together for the new advancements. Stepping out of his blarg within the deep wilds of the jungle the uruk nodded in approval. “The spirits of the wild will look down upon our advances, as will the druii, as will herbologists, and many others. Who dares to challenge the raging fires of SKATCHATH and halt the advances of orcish races?! They too will burn.” Grabbing his weaponry he would set out to clear the jungle of life before him of life. The time of fire has come and lives of the flora and fauna will be taken, but no longer will they inhibit advances. They will coexist. 

[herculean_wud 3656]

In the Spirit Realm, Leydluk raises his arm in salute as green made way for grey, and ash once more soiled the earth.

Edited January 7, 2022 by herculean_wud

[Tk4522 295]

A human clad in the red and black of the Iron Ugz lit up a oracle wood joint as he looked over the vast foliage that surrounded the place he had come to call home. His mind was made clear by the drug and a single thought took the empty stage. The image of a raging inferno consuming the oppressively greenery. "Burn it... Burn it all." he pauses as he allows the remainder of the blunt to burn between his fingers, creating a trail of smoke that was led further westward by a breeze. A realization would come over the man as he saw this "And may the winds whip the ashes into a frenzy, creating a beautiful dance never seen before by mortal eyes."  

[angel129bu 56]

Ezra, Zahira, Yerro, Callum, Emony, and Sola

Ezra stepped out of hers and her lifemates blarg. She knew what had to be done, She ushered her children to follow her while she carried the youngest in her arms. "Mom? What's going on... Why is there fire everywhere?" Ezra shook her head. Dismissing her daughter's question, she was more focused on finding her lifemate and getting their children to safety. "Dew nub beh afrayd ziztah, whi juz fallo momo. Mi zhur zhe kno wher zhe ez goin'." Yerro tried to reassure his sister, Zahira. Callum Followed silently, he was holding the hand of his sister Emony and his older brother Yerro who lead them to follow Ezra. Emony looked around at the flames, she was more curious then scared. She looked up at her older sister Zahira who followed behind them. "Sister?" Emony called up to Zahira. "Yes? What's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Zahira paused for a moment. "Mom hold on." Zahira called out to Ezra. "I think Em's about to be sick." Ezra stopped for a moment, turning around. "Juz pik her ub. Whi dew nub hab tik fer diz." Ezra sighed, her voice filled with concern and worry. "Right, Come here Em." Zahira knelt down and scooped her sister into her arms forcing Emony to let go of Callum's hand, nodding for them to continue on. Sola rested in Ezra's arms, unaware of the issues at hand. She was more tired and chose to sleep rather then be afraid.

Edited January 7, 2022 by angel129bu

[Drzzter 26]

A chattering, slobbering goblin wiped the back of one gnarled forearm against the protuberance-riddled mound that composed his forehead as sweat beaded down his deformed countenance. With ragged breaths he continued his merciless assault of the jungle hardwoods surrounding the imposing walls of the IRON UZG, heaving  jagged-toothed saw across defenseless trunk. He looked towards the sky, wild-eyed for a chance glimpse of his ancestors in the Stargush'Stroh before barking out, parroting the Motsham's ritual fervor: "LUP'LEYD! DAH KUBZ UB KRUGMAR AM ZOON RIZEN ANEW!" 

Edited January 7, 2022 by Drzzter

[MRCHENN 3663]

A figure sat cross legged within an age-old temple, a valiant sword by his side. His smoldering gaze heightened, the heart of fire and body of stone contemplating on this new Age of Fires.

 

Would the Madfires of Asioth vehemently embody these orcish kin? He wondered, then, if order were to be brought by the inevitability of chaos incarnate.

[Barbog 446]

The ugly little bone-and-hide-covered goblin shudders before a broiling cauldron, a thick blunt clenched between his stained teeth. Whispers taunt the edges of his mind, flashes of visions he has not seen in a long, long time- that he thought he escaped.

"Nûl-ob tau! Shiik-ob bukul'nuun! Puzughl kulûk shiik agh zurm!"

"The pain of the forest! The cry of the river! Cease all the cries and clamor!"

"GAASH-LAT! GAASH-IZG! GAASHUG KULÛK ZA UB KUL!"

"BURN YOU! BURN WE! BURNING OF ALL THAT WILL BE!"

 

As usual, the flesh-haunted wretch knows nothing about true about their will- what they ask of him. He staggers off, dropping the rolled cactus from his maw as he hobbles out of the hut. He sees a set of vials on the wall; murky red, black as tar, a putrid green. He takes them all. He needs them all.

[_Bueno_ 490]

Ezek Xetoun rubs his hands feverishly. The small goblin clad in silk robes would observe the fires burn, grinning with a manic glint in his beedy eyes.

 

"Yes-yes the fires burn and the Uzg begins a time-era of industry-might. Ezek likes-enjoys this very much-much. The fires bring money-gold to Ezek, yes-yes."

[Vilebranch 280]

Upon the steppes west of San'Velku, the mounted figure of Skorkon'Ugluk broods beside the sacrificial altar of Qarkah. The muffled screams of an elf sound through the bronze statue, echoing out in the form of an awkward bray as he burns to death in the cramped metal chamber. The orc's gaze turns to the treeline,

"In da blah ob owur anzezturz, 'Burn it awl. Burn it awl tu da grownd.' Burn da weaknezz from owur kin. Burn da weaknezz frum da land. Burn da weaknezz frum da lezzur razez. Onli azht diz am done, can zometing hozher mayk way."

"HA-QARKAH! HA-SCATHACH! HA-URUK!"