The Bonds of Loyalty

[Pancakehz 2279]

 

The Bonds of Loyalty

Spoiler

 

 

A warm, dry breeze blew through the caverns of Lurak, the desert air filling the lungs of those gathered within the city.

 

The dust of the cavern floor was disturbed by the end of a staff meeting its grainy surface. Kaal of Raguk, trudged up the stairs toward the Grizh Pit. Behind him trailed two other orcs, both following closely behind the Elder Raguk. 

 

Azhug stepped toward the entrance to the mines of Lurak, his eyes drifting downward as he gazed upon the vast opening in the earth. “AZHUG!” a voice echoed about the cavern. The Elder Gorkil snapped his gaze toward the voice, his eyes meeting those of Kaal. “Come brother, Dazkur awaits.” the Elder Shaman spoke to the Gorkil. Azhug collected himself and carried on, following after his teacher. Step by step, ladder by ladder, the trio made their way to the Grizh Pit. Kaal waved his hand, ushering the other two inside before the Elder Raguk barred the entryway with the braziers scattered about the room. 

 

Kaal lowered himself to the ground, sitting upon the stone. He looked to Ukûkaal, the third orc present, who also joined him on the ground. Azhug stared between the duo, before joining them in a seated position. With intent, Kaal took out a few blunts, he passed them to the two Urukim sitting beside him “This will help with the pain, is good to have before spirit walk.” he said to the pair. Ukûkaal nodded, having already known this, while Azhug accepted the blunt with curiosity. With snaps of their fingers, the two Shamans lit their blunts, taking a few huffs from them. Azhug looked around, finding a candle nearby and using it to light his own. 

 

“We begin.” said Kaal

 

Azhug hastily took a huff from his own blunt. Then closing his eyes alongside Kaal and Ukûkaal. The trio began their spirit walk, led by Kaal of Raguk.

 

 

Down they fell into nothingness and darkness. They fell for what seemed like an eternity to Azhug, devoid of air to breathe, devoid of light to see, and devoid of anything to feel. The darkness then broken by a glimpse of light beaming off of a sandy landscape. With a thud, the trio landed in an open desert. 

 

As they rose to their feet and dusted themselves off, the trio gazed about the landscape, a sea of endless dunes surrounding them. Azhug peered to his left and right to find nothing but the sand in his sight. He was confused, until a gust of wind fell upon the trio. Azhug sniffed the air and his eyes went wide. The Gorkil sniffed once more, looking to his companions as he uttered “Meat?” 

 

Kaal and Ukûkaal nodded, for they had also caught the same scent. “Follow the path created by the scent brother.” Kaal spoke to Azhug. Azhug turned to the east, his nose guiding him toward the direction of the scent. “This is your path Azhug, we will only intervene if we are in imminent danger.” the Elder Shaman said to Azhug in warning. “Be wary, for the spirits you encounter may try to trick or mislead you.” Azhug nodded in reply, he continued on following the scent.

 

Seconds passed, then minutes, maybe hours, maybe days. The trio trudged on through the vast and seemingly ever expanding desert in search of the source of the scent. Azhug placed a hand on his stomach as it growled more ferociously than the war-scarred Uruk had ever himself. He looked down at the ground, his hope nearly lost as he considered whether Dazkur would deem him worthy. His intrusive doubts were interrupted by the hand of Kaal on his shoulder. Azhug gazed upward, his eyes finding a solitary white tent in the middle of the desert.

 

With his hope restored, Azhug slogged through the sand and made his way toward the tent. Ukûkaal and Kaal followed behind the Gorkil as he approached. As they neared the entrance, the sand began to stir and rise from beneath them. The whirlwinds and gusts threw sand into the air until they rose to create a figure, towering above the three Urukim. 

 

“Who are you?” the figure said, its voice thunderous.

 

Azhug placed a fist to his chest, lowering his head as he answered the spirit. “Azhug of the Gorkils.” he stated in reply. The spirit crossed its arms, staring down at the Uruk with an unrelenting gaze. “We know this name. Do you think yourself worthy of pacting with Dazkur?” the spirit questioned him. Azhug looked up at the spirit, who then continued on. “I am Gunmah, and I must ask, why do you seek the power of Dazkur?” he asks of the Gorkil.

 

Azhug replied “Azhug wishes to follow his path, to protect and defend all of Urukim. To be a shield for them.” The spirit nodded before he spoke “You think yourself capable of such?” he asked rhetorically “You must prove it.” he said with a wave of his hand. At his command, the sand began to swirl once more beneath the feet of Azhug, a form of himself being made from the sands. Azhug stared at the copy of himself before he positioned himself in front of Kaal and Ukûkaal, his arms outstretched as to protect them from danger.

 

 

 

The Azhug Clone snarled and hissed at his counterpart before sending a fist at the chin of Azhug. Azhug lowered his posture, dipping his head to the right and slipping the punch, he stepped with his maneuver, eyes fixated on his double. With a growl, the red Gorkil leaned forward and sent the weight of his shoulder toward the Azhug Clone. 

 

The Azhug Clone stumbled backwards before he refocused his attention on that of Kaal and Ukûkaal. The Clone leapt over Azhug, his gaze fixated on the companions of Azhug. He thrashed about and just before reaching them, his momentum was stopped. The ankles of the Azhug Clone were trapped within the grasp of Azhug himself. With a grunt, Azhug pulled its legs downward, slamming the sand clone against the dunes and dragging it to the side, away from Kaal and Ukûkaal.

 

The Azhug Clone rose to his feet with a growl, he rushed toward the Gorkil Chieftain and lunged at his legs, aiming to tackle the red orc. Azhug shifted his feet, stuffing the takedown sent by the Sand Uruk. Azhug sent his weight toward the ground, landing atop his clone. With haste, Azhug pinned his copy to the floor of the desert, restraining his movement and preventing him from harming Kaal and Ukûkaal. 

 

 

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

 

Gunmah applauded the Gorkil “Good!” he boomed, “Now destroy your double and come speak with Dazkur.” commanded the spirit. Azhug looked at the copy of himself, then back to Gunmah, the words of Kaal echoing in his head. Azhug would not fall for a trick of the spirits. The Gorkil repositioned his grip on the sand clone, lifting the clone up and tossing him over his shoulder and toward the tent that Gunmah stood watch over. Azhug rose to his feet, looking up at Gunmah “Sand Clone takes the form of Uruk, Azhug will not harm Urukim.” he said to Gunmah.

 

[!] A silence befell the landscape. Gunmah stared down at Azhug for a brief moment before the sand clone began to wither away and return to the desert from whence it came. Gunmah nodded to the Gorkil Chieftain. “You are worthy.” he said before the winds began to swirl around him. The lesser spirit shrunk down to match the size of the trio of Urukim. “Come.” he commanded.

 

The three Urukim followed Gunmah into the tent. Inside stood a solitary chest made of sandstone. “What do you bring as an offering to Dazkur?” Gunmah questioned Azhug. The Gorkil pondered for a moment before saying “Azhug has built shrine already. Azhug offers praise to Dazkur.” he began, “Azhug helps lead Krughai, will bring many warriors to fight in the name of Dazkur.” he continued on. The Gorkil looked at his hands, then to the chest in the room. “Azhug offers blood, to prove loyalty and dedication to Dazkur.”

 

Gunmah nodded at Azhug’s words. “Prove it.” he commanded. Azhug stepped forward, placing a hand on the chest. Gunmah clenched his mighty fist, slamming it down upon the hand of Azhug, crushing it. Splinters of bone and splatters of blood sprayed across the chest, which then absorbed its offering. “It is done.” uttered Gunmah.

 

The wind howled once more, the three Urukim beginning the return to their bodies. The feeling of their feet leaving the dunes of Dazkur’s Domain left Azhug with a sense of pride and comfort.

 

Surrounded by darkness once more, though this time it felt different than before. The scent of cooked meat slowly drifted out of his nostrils, unable to be detected any longer.  Azhug was suddenly thrust back into his worldly form with force. Azhug sat up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck before looking at Kaal.

 

“You have done well brother.”

 

The Red Gorkil, Azhug, was officially pacted with Dazkur, the Greater Immortal Spirit of Protection and Loyalty.

 

 

Spoiler

OOC Note: Any dialogue uttered by the Spirits was spoken in Old Blah and translated to common simply for ease of reading in this post.