Lup'Zagbal

[Banned 343]

Lup'Zagbal

[The Eastern Jungle, Circa 63 SA.]

 

Darkness encapsulated the Eastern Jungle, faint corsucations of light danced wildly across marred bark and rotten soil; The Bear looked out from beneath her cowl, forged to resemble the countenance of an Orc, muttering incantations in a language thought long lost to the annals of history. Thick mists coiled around the Bear’s masque, rising up from a small censer in her lap, embers spanning a strange herbal concoction.

 

 “Zagbal: dâg ob Freyguuth, Ilzgûl ob ghaamp agh gazog - horn agh isl.”

Spoiler

"Zagbal, child of Freygoth, Spirit of earth and wild - beast and plant."

 

The Bear rasped again and again, inhaling the wafts of vapor with each breath.

Thin columns of light shined down, illuminating portions of the site; The tell-tale reds and oranges of fires dance against a great monument, verdant hides dangle from its length. The remaining leaves rustled with the breeze, and the distant call of birdsong echoed throughout the jungle.

 

“Zagbal, dâg ob Freyguuth: lat blûg grazadh, lab tau iz darûkûrz. Kinul, Goth ob baga, darg-tab snagas n’u’lab tau.”

Spoiler

"Zagbal, child of Freygoth: Your roots wither, your woodlands are faltering. Kinul, Lord of Blight, sends his slaves upon your forest."

 

The Bear bellowed, chalky fumes amalgamating about their worldly facade. A solemn pause, seizing a moment to reflect. The voices of the Ilzgûl had all but been null for the former Uluamirzgai, shunned for their past transgressions; Having damned plenty of Zagbal’s ilk into her Ismuth Anchor, the Bear grasped that her efforts could be in vain, a wasted effort.
 

     “Brus’izg sharr-lab rulum uzg, skûm’lab grazadh - krailab nûl. Izg golm izubu naakh, Zagbal; Ilzgûl ob ghaamp agh gazog - horn agh isl, dâg ob Freyguuth. Amirz'ub ghûlb’lab uzg? Amirz'ub atish’lab ghaamp roz? Lab ghaam gull? Amirz'ub ghûlbtau'slaiûrz?"

Spoiler

"I have seen your damaged lands, smelt your affliction, understood your pain. Zagbal; Spirit of Earth and Wild, child of Freygoth. Who will tend your land? Who will keep your soil fertile? Your domain nourished? Who will keep your forests alive?"

She’d begun stoking the embers within her censer, guiding the miasma beneath her cowl. Expulsed with each exhale, plumes of smoke ran down her physique, spewing forth from behind her masque.

"Lab uzg kulthagûrz agh asht, amol much tik kramp lat nargzab u af'kraat ik lat mauk'krut?"

Spoiler

"Your land is to be barren and bone, how much time do you wish to throw away before you will fight back?"

 

She had cracked, a thunderous tone sent rolling across the jungle floor, reverberating off of sullied timber and moss-stricken stone.

"Lab matûrz naakh kramp'nar snagh, agh zatal izg zaug’golm izubu tabz. Izg golm lat za bûth."

Spoiler

"Your mortal hands do not toil, and so I must give my own. I give you this chance."

 

She'd return the censer to its rightful place, filling her figure as she rose. Silence. This revelation was not foreign to the Bear, having sought absolution in the past, only to be left wanting. Perhaps, this time, things would be different; a weak Spirit requires all the allies it can muster, and Zagbal's influence is fleeting at best.