[Pact] The Oasis Pilgrimage

[Wasteland_Shaman 97]

The Oasis Pilgrimage

 

The hot sands of the Hordelands swept behind Gutlug, his only company being the desert beasts that dwelled  in this harsh land. The shaman contemplated to himself on why he undertook this journey, for too long he had witnessed conflict amongst his people and the hostility of the Brittlebone towards the Urukhim, the sons of Krug...

 

First on his mind, was the arrival of his people to these new lands of Azuras, his green footsteps passing by an anthill, granting some small insight into how his people had to construct a new home from the wreckage of their fleet. Long had the sons of Krug been wanders in the desert, yet this was the first time he'd witnessed the difficulty of the harsh and arid environment's effects on their food supply. Ramakhet, as he destroyed the Old Goi in Aevos, had seen fit to damn the Urukhim to these wastelands yet again. Gutlug shrugged, accepting this as the will of the Spirits, taking heed of the lessons of the ants of building a new abode from what appeared to be nothing into something.

 

Second came the Brittlebones, men and elves who had come to the Horde not as Vassals or those willing to offer respect, but as thieves and plunderers taking advantage of the Urukhim's honour and generosity. The thoughts came to his mind of the Prince and his men coming to the Rex, his King, Khan of Khans, to treat with his people on the gold that littered their new lands...Yet he remembered Amin and his people, friends who he could share tea and a fresh kill with if need be. His mind drifted to the hunts he took in his youth on Almaris and Aevos, together with both Uruk and ally they felled many beasts, Farfolk and Orc joined in the hunt. His concentration broken when the drumming of his bare feet on the red sand melted away as his feet gave way to wet soil, the rivers flowed before him.

 

His final thought came from within, across the river he spotted a pair of coyotes from the same pack fight over an antelope carcass across the river. Gutlug sat by the bank and contemplated on the conflicts he had seen amongst Clans all his life and even within his own, the Lurs had fallen far from their power and now he sought to bring them back to greatness. The Urukhim had always fought amongst themselves over the most banal and mundane things, grudges that should have been resolved long ago, whose hut was bigger, and over who should be the ones to lead the Horde. Gutlug merely sighed, hoping into a Canoe down the river to the source...As the river carried him away, he shifted his back towards the two beasts. One had triumphed, slaying the other, yet what did it accomplish truly? More meat to fill its belly, yet losing a valuable member of the pack in the process?

 

Ephemeral. Fleeting. Doomed.

 

 

These thoughts plagued his mind, his Rex could not provide guidance, Madoc the Elder could not, and neither could the Motsham Ghoraza. No, Gutlug needed to seek from a Higher Source. His canoe drifted to the mouth of the river delta, striking a bank as if the vessel carried him exactly where he needed to be...It was here that he would begin his first pilgrimage in this land, a land where the Spirits were in flux and active, here he unloaded his pack from the canoe and spread a woven carpet over the grass. Preparing the proper incense to treat with the Guardian of the Oasis, Gutlug sat on the ground, lighting the incense with a quick strike of the tinderbox. There, with the bruning incense rising high, he meditated upon the ground with crossed legs and spoke the words of the Old Tongue.

 

"Ilzgûlzob za Niinronk, gaakh lûpizg khlaarlab. Za snaga kulatob lûtomizg, kulizg mûl strokhû baduzgat! Norkizg, mirz faltorlab nariinûrzuzg draaghizguga!"

 

The shaman felt the water itself pull his soul  into the great pool before him...From silt and sand he came from, harsh wind and dry air...

 

To a land of tall palms with succulent dates hanging in clusters from their branches, cacti blooming fruit from their stalks, and an array of strange animals sipping from the Oasis before him. The shaman felt the cool air from the eternal eventide bring him respite, raising his arms in prayer before striding to the pool, dipping his head into the oasis to sip from it's wells. The animals turning to face the newcomer to their land...Before the waters began to bubble, Gutlug'Lur stood up to face whatever emerged from the waters...Before him stood a creature that had appeared only in the dreams of his time connected to the elements, particularly the spirit that had come to him after he had built their Shrine back in the old Uzg.

 

Voharonk.

 

 

The spirit, a being resembling a large marsupial (Thylacinus potens) covered in zig-zaging stripes of water, fur of sand and silt, and two eyes that resembled the very pools before the orc stood him down, a radiating Halo of Light blinding him in a short flash. The scintillating sand of it's fur a constant stream of silt into the waters, creating a cloud of sorts obfuscating the feet of the orc, They came face to face with the shaman, their watery eyes locked with his own. Before the Spirit of the Oasis he stood motionless, listening only to what They spoke to Their servant.

 

"Broshan darûizub, snagaizub...Bugdlat agh ghashkrutizg...Gashn...Say your words to me, why do you beseech me, whose Shrine you protected and maintained, and whose hands now offer prayer in my name. I am They that sustains and They that drowns. Say."

 

Gutlug knelt before the Spirit, he had been traversing the Spirit  World for some time, yet in his long journeys he had not had the respite that this spirit of the waters offered him. He responded to his pleas towards the Spirit. He prostrated before Them, raising his hands to the sky before bowing in reverence to Voharonk in prayer. The animals surrounding the oasis stood in silence, as if the Spirit themself was pulling their attention from the watering hole towards them as the Waters drove them all together. Gutlug uttered his words carefully and slowly, as was ordered of him by his Master.

 

"Oh Voharonk, I served you in Aevos and in this hostile and desolate land, one that has been allotted to the Sons of Krug, I plead for thine aid. I ask for thine guidance and thine blessing, my people are lost. Our lands are infertile and barren, our enemies plot and deceive as we bicker, I ask for you to show me the path towards unity as your waters unite the disparate creatures of the desert. Allow your Oasis to become a symbol for the Urukhim to foster and cherish our unity."

 

Gutlug knelt at the bank of the Oasis, the Spirit chuckled as They circled around him. Offering succor from the odd gazes of the realm's other inhabitants, before turning behind him and gesturing to the beings that dwelt in and around these hallowed waters, the beasts of the land, the tropical fish in the pools, and colourful birds perched on the palms and cacti overlooking the Oasis grounds.  The Spirit's verdict came as echoes upon still waters, invading the mind of the Orc. 

 

"Oh, but I believe that you misunderstand. Child of Krug, as capable a Shaman and devoted a Servant you are to me, my Oasis is also a source of conflict. A ripple that strikes my pool can divide as well, yet consider how such ripples only last for a short time. O Servant, consider your own question to me. You must be the one that brings the Urukhim of your Clan first, as you challenge for the position of Lur Goth, you create a ripple within your Clan. I say to you, be mindful of the conflicts that arise and strive to find an Oasis of your own to bring your Clan, then you must aid your people. Bring them to my realm, bring my power to your people. The ways of the elements bind both the Mortal and Spirit worlds, once the Oasis has been found, then your people may partake of me."

 

The shaman nodded before the Spirit's wisdom, accepting the decree of the Spirit without question. He acknowledged, the Center needed to be found, freeing the Urukhim of this stupor that had affected them greatly in these short years. He stood back up, ushering another request of Voharonk, Master of the Oasis. 

 

"O, Gothob Ronk. Gothob Niin. I ask you to make of us a pact, I shall not be your slave in name only any longer. For you, I serve to bring your waters to all those that partake of them, and for you I drown the unworthy and offer their souls to thine maw. This I swear upon my ancestors, forever to be bound to you."

 

In response, the waters bubbled, rising around Voharank. The spirit's grinning maw spreading wide, it's mouth revealing teeth of sharp coral and sandstone, yet Spirit laughed as if anticipating this moment of fruition. The uruk could do nothing now, his oath had been said, and now it was the Spirit's turn to bestow the ancient edicts upon Their servant, the animals and birds all bowed their heads before the Spirit as they raised their Right Paw towards his forehead, granting a feeling of a cold yet oddly comforting sensation to the soul of the Uruk. 

 

"Oh disciple of Mine, I make of thee a Covenant to serve me until the end of thine days upon the Mortal Realm. It is unto you that my waters shall touch the Mortal world, you shall be my conduit for the lost children of Krug. Guide them, guide and shepherd the lost to my Oasis. Do not be tempted into Flame and Despair. Unto thee, I bestow this Pact. Go forth, and erect a new Shrine to my will."

 

The Uruk nodded, with the Spirit leaving an imprint upon Their servant's head, the Uruk felt oddly comforted by the establishment of this Covenant. Yet now it was time for him to return to the Mortal World, with the mark of the pact slowly fading from his skin, the Spirit opened it's maw yet again and spoke the words of separation, the words of return to the waking world before them. 

 

"Return...O serv-nagaob kulizub, gaakh niinizub kraat norklat. Kraat botghaaraizubu, ronkûizub thrakatulûk agh ûn durbûrzizub gaakh  skaatûlab! Gaakh kullat ûkil niinishi khlaarizg, botob matûrz'hai ukhik. Broshan agh narfik niinu latûr, snagaizub."

 

From the spirit's open maw, a blast of water spewed forth onto the orc, the liquid forming a whirlpool before his feet. The pool dragged Gutlug down, down from the world of the undying and elemental spirits and back to the corruptible mortal plane...

 

What came to greet the shaman, was the now burned incense onto the ground and ashes, a pungent smell of swamp gas and wild beasts that had conspicuously left the orc be during his walk into the realm of the Spirit. Now invigorated with the blessing of the Spirit, he packed his carpet and returned to his canoe. His pilgrimage was not yet complete, there was another Spirit that demanded his attention, another that he had met before yet required the proper rites. The feeling of serenity that had enveloped him while in Voharonk's realm was now lost, for Gutlug anticipated the horrors to come on the final journey of his pilgrimage.