[Pact] Eternal Wagh

[DrunkPapaBear 2292]

PACT OF WAR ETERNAL

PACT OF ENROHK

 

 

Alone in the depts of Ghorazad, the horned uruk stood in front of the flames. His right hand moved to his bare chest, holding his sacrificial bone blade. A vertical cut was made in the center, the blood already dripping on the ashes surrounding the firepit. As the uruk attached the bloodied blade on his belt again, he opened his maw to let out a guttural chant.

 

Freygoth, Izû nâk-bolk lât rad! Lâtz goth âhm dakûruz, izû af-lât-lût!

Spoiler

(Freygoth, we do not need you now! Your power is weak, we cast you out!)

From the wound on his chest, the uruk pushed his fingers in his flesh. From it, he pulled vines and leaves and thorns, casting them all into the flames.

Izû narzgab nûrzum, nûl ûgh grîzh! Lât nâk-paash flôk za ah-izû!

Spoiler

(We want wrath, pain and blood! You cannot give this to us!)

The remnants of the shaman’s pact turned to ashes, leaving the witch doctor on his knees alone in the cave. His eyeless head faced the flames, letting their warmth ease the pain of losing the power he once held.

Green was thrown into the firepit, his last bundle of Rex Widow carried over from Almaris. The smog soon filled the cave and with it the wicked tongue of Old Blah returned.

Khlaar! Khlaar! Izû nargzab GOTH! Goth ah-shâtup gaam-shâras, empire-brûf! Khlaar ûgh hôn izûbu golm ah-grîzh!

Spoiler

(Hear! Hear! We want power! Power to destroy the filthy humans, insects of the empire! Hear and see our offering of blood!)

The uruk grabbed an arm, a leg, head and torso, trophies taken following the orkish victory in Ghorazad. One by one he let the flame consume the rotten flesh of the lessers, an offering to the immortals. The fire turned dark red as the tainted meat was added, the light blending with the uruk’s skin.

The Witch Doctor returned to his knees, bowing slightly in front of the burning corpses. Whispers escaped his maw, the words of old blah dividing flesh and soul until his shell was left alone with the scent of cooked meat.

His immortal soul traveled far in the dark void of the In-Between without air or light. He fell and fell in this void for what seemed like hours, or maybe days? He fell until finally he reached his destination, his soul colliding with the realm of War.

The golden sands of the desert we stained with blood, the cries of dying warriors echoed over the sea of corpses in front of Kaal-Lûk. The uruk moved through the battlefield, he recovered two war axes from those who wouldn’t need them anymore.

ENROHK! Khlaar izûbu bugd! Hôn izûbu durbûrz! Izû skaat tul ah knâsh ah lâtz-goth!

Spoiler

(Enrohk! Hear our call! See our strength! We come here to bargain for your powers!)

One by one, corpse of fallen elves, men, orcs and dwarves rose from the battlefield. They picked up arms and advanced towards the uruk. One by one, the soul of the elder orc cut down the corpses, dark blood flowing from their husks. The shaman’s body was covered with cuts and wounds, his own blood mixing with the corrupted ichor of undeath. More and more returned to life and soon the horned orc was surrounded, his axes dripping with black blood.

Soon the battle slowed, the corpses stopped coming at Kaal-Lûk, leaving him panting and bleeding. He looked around, wondering why they stopped fighting. Soon his question was answered.

 

Amirz âhm lât urûkhim? Lât amirz shatûp izûb mauk shâ-gat. Amirz âhm lât ah-skaat tul ûgh garmog goth?!

Spoiler

(Who are you orc? You who destroy my warriors with ease. Who are you to come here and demand power?!)

The voice boomed like thunder over the battlefield carrying a scent of blood and death. It made the shaman freeze, his bones shaking under his fleshy shell. This was it, the reason he ripped off the pact made with Freygoth over a century ago. It was time.

The uruk raised a waraxe to the sky and chanted in the tongue of the spirits.

Izû skaat ûgh gadhaal lûpurz! Izû âhm kaal-lûk, lûk ah-grîzh ûgh nûl. Izû bolk lâtz bub’hôsh goth, gothuz-Ilzgûl. Izû nargazb lâtz gôth ah baduzg dakûruz shâras Ilzgûl-durbûz!

Spoiler

(We come and promise worship! We are son of light, son of blood and pain. We need your great powers, strong Spirit. We want your power to show the weak humans the power of the spirits!)

From the blood of a thousand corpses, a towering beast emerged. The tusks of a boar and horns of a ram covered the head of the Spirit. Two red flames served him of eyes, which stared down at the Witch Doctor. Its sharpened teeth were as long as the uruk’s forearm, a forked tongue moved between them.

Izg in-Sigurd, lâtz Hônûrk. Izg nargzab âsh golmâthum. Izg nargzab lâtz krampûrz. Gadhaal zamal ûgh lât brus izub gôth.

Spoiler

(I remember Sigurd, your student. I want a shrine. I want your loyalty. Promise that and you will have my power.)

The shaman closed his eyes, lowering the weapon to his side. His mouth opened yet no words escaped. Kaal-Lûk inhaled deeply, the cogs of his mind spinning. He finally spoke the words :

 

Izû ub-mauk ah-lâtz bugud. Izû gadhaal ah-gunâsh lât. Khlark izû gothurûz, flôk-izû ah-gôth ah-shatûp gaam-shâras.

Spoiler

(We will fight in your name. We promise to serve you. Make us powerful, give us the power to destroy the filthy humans.)

 

With those words the pact was sealed. The sea of corpse rushed at Kaal-Lûk, crushing him under their numbers. The uruk felt steel and bones pierce his immortal soul, empowering it with the wrath of the war-spirit. The shaman roared in pain, his flesh torn, bitten and cut…

Then he woke up alone, screaming.

The walls of the cave echoed his cries.

The small of burned flesh filled his nostrils.

It was done.