Choosing Sides

[StokedOff 456]

Choosing Sides

 

 

Tear of Kinul

 

Long has it been since the Ram has called upon Kinul, spirit of Disease, pestilence, and failure. Long has it been since the Rams have failed in the same magnitude as the present. It seems that in Krothuul’Ram’s absence, the clan has gone from a lit flame ready to burn the world, to a pile of ashes left to wash away in the wind. No longer will he let the flame of his clan dwindle out and fail. The mighty Ram shaman took up his mobile cauldron and placed it in a spot he felt was very spiritual. The Ram got himself high on spiritual cactus green which allowed an easier contact with the spirits before he began his ritual to Kinul. With much success in pleasing Kinul, he created a powerful, poisonous, disease ridden hex ‘Tear of Kinul’. One that would spread and taint many trees. Without letting time slip whatsoever he took his bottled hex to the jungle where he spilt it at the base of three trees. “FREYGOTH blah’d nub tu burn any elder treez wibout makin ah zacrifize in her honur. Zhi did nub blah nubtin about zpreading disease tu dah eldur trees. Lup’Kinul.”  the orc bellowed out of his smelly, gooey maw. His yellow teeth would form a devilish smile as his red eyes gazed to the dirt below to watch the hex seep its way into the soil. After a short moment the trees would begin to groan as they swayed left and right in the wind. Twigs began to snap and fall to the jungle floor. The bark of the three trees slowly began to peel as their leaves wilted away. The floor below started to turn into muck and mud. The smell of rotting plant matter filled the nose of all who travelled near. All three trees would wilt and rot from disease.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 8, 2022 by StokedOff
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[Security_ 2287]

An ashen skinned olog within the far reaches of the uruk wildlands rip and tears through the local fauna, continuing his search for the remaining Rams. "LUP'ENROHK," it bellows, awaiting the boon of horns- until struck by the festering stench of rot.

 

[herculean_wud 3662]

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"Beware ye of uruk kind,

And of Raguk indeed,

The rot that befell Kharak

And gender'd within the mind;

Tales of caution, cried the herald

Yet not a wretch took his heed

And bound within the vile grip

An ancient race, and land imperilled."

 

Raguk Song, Book of Prudence

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Fishbref looked to his kin from afar. Soon it would be time, so he thought, to march his weary men unto the Uzg as a cause that went beyond the blood boiled there within. 

Edited January 8, 2022 by herculean_wud