Staves And Knives.

[ALikdoril 10]

He was going to be a shaman. There was no doubt about it. He had decided that was what he would do, and by Krug he was going to do it! But it was a rather rocky start. At first he had been unsure about it. After all he had approached the shaman Lex about his feelings after the encounter with the hand of Krug. Not to discuss becoming a shaman. But as the discussion advanced he began to realize on some level that he wanted… no needed to be a shaman. He had become ecstatic when Lex had agreed to teach him. So much so that the excitement mixed with the exhaustion form his sleepless nights caused him to faint. That had been an embarrassment. He had even considered letting the subject drop there. But he was to determine to let a little thing like that to stop him. He would make up for it. He would prove himself strong, Strong enough to be a shaman!

Unfortunately the Dwarf Lex had vanished. Or at least was harder to locate then Zar’zak had hoped. But he knew another shaman, Brevias. It took no time at all to find him actually. Zar’zak merely turned the corner around Grazlock’s hut to find him. This meeting had gone slightly differently. He had known what he wanted and to his own pleasure. Brevias had agreed to train him. He just had to perform a task first.

He had to find five things connected to shamanism. Five things blessed by the spirits.

This was going to be harder then Zar’zak had thought. But anything worth doing was going to cost blood, sweat, and tears. Things Zar’zak was more than willing to pay with.

So to start his journey he decided to search where he first at least in his own mind began the journey to become a shaman. The hand of Krug, the large stone structure hidden in a vally beyond the desert. It had taken two days to reach. Across burning sand and unspoiled earth he journeyed. And when he finally arrived at his destination he climbed the stair case to the heights of the hand. Unfortunately, Zar’zak found that he had not thought this far ahead and was not even sure where to begin his search now that he was here. “I sit ‘ere. I’ll tink of someting.” He’s said to himself full of confidence. For two more days he sat there. And he still had no clue where to go.

And after waiting so long doubt had again begun to seep into his mind, poisoning his resolve with thoughts of failure. “Mebee… “ He said aloud. “Mebee… me nub supposed to be shaman.” He felt sad, If he was not meant to be a shaman. What was he meant to be? Quickly though he felt his sadness turn to anger as he mentally kicked himself for that. He should not show such weakness in a place like this. A very monument built by the spirits themselves. “Nub, I will be shamam!” He found himself yelling to the empty air. “I will be shaman! An nub ash tell me differnt!” he nodded to himself. Pleased by his own show of strength of resolve. So he sat there. For another day and another night, not eating, not drinking, not even allowing himself the benefit of a good nights sleep. He had to be resolute. He had to be strong. He would be strong. There was no other option. If he was not strong, If he failed. He would not return home. He would be too ashamed to.

As he sat there though, Stubborn in his will to prove himself. He felt the weight of every minute. Every passing minute growing longer and longer till it was almost maddening. Then it happened. Zar’zak’s vision began to blur as he felt himself start falling. It was like for an instant he was caught in a maelstrom. And as suddenly as it had started it stopped. When it did he found himself staring into his own dark brown eyes. It was a strange thing, looking at himself sitting there, his face frozen forward. He found himself wanting to look away. Not out of fear but in an attempt to see what has going on. It took a great amount of effort, No will to move his field of vision. He found himself facing in the direction of the forest bordering the valley of the hand of Krug. He attempted to will himself to look in another direction but he continued to look. Then eventually he felt himself being pulled there.

He felt himself flying forward. Faster and faster he went as the miles simply passed him by. Suddenly he found himself in the center of a forest. A large oak tree loomed before him. Its sturdy frame covered in prickly, Thorne covered vines. Next to the tree was a small dirt mound against a large stone. Then as suddenly as he was there it was gone his whole world turning dark. He stood there in darkness for what seemed like hours. He flailed around angrily trying to punish the darkness for blinding him. Suddenly the darkness vanished in a blinding flash of light! That’s when he saw it. It was beautiful. The large oaken form of the staff carved to perfection. Then suddenly he felt himself being pulled violently backwards. Zar’zak reached out with his will attempting to grasp the staff.

But in an instant his vision blurred as he felt himself snap back to his body. He found he was panting and his heart was beating loudly in his chest. When his vision finally cleared, he gathered his things and headed in the direction that this… Vision had taken him. So he left the valley and wandered into the forest. Several hours passed before he finally reached the place in his vision. It was exactly as he had seen it in his mind.It was exactly as he had seen it in his mind. The large oaken tree covered in thorny vines, the clear blue lake reflecting the pale moon on its surface. Even the small dirt mound next to the large rock resting on the lakeside was there. He immediately went to the dirt mound and began to dig with his hands. He dug as quickly as his hands would allow, Placing the soft soil in an uneven pile to his right, letting out hard grasps as he went fast and faster. Eventually he reached a small chest buried. With a grunt he heaved the chest out of the whole it was buried in. the orc quickly opened it. Unfortunately there was no staff to be found, which did not surprise him. The chest was rather small, too small in fact to have ever held a staff. However he did find a small stone carving knife.

“Wut iz dis for?” He said aloud to himself. He stared at it, a puzzled expression crossing his face. Zar’zak began to walk away. Not really sure what to do next when the tree game into his field of vision. The orc stopped an ideal forming in his head. Zar’zak nodded to himself as he rushed over to the tree. He then began to search. Eventually he found what he thought to be the strongest branch on the tree. A large gnarled thing covered in thorny vines. Reaching out with his hand, Zar’zak grabbed the branch and pulled with all his might. He let out a grunt of pain as the thrones dug deep into his skin causing blood to flow freely from his hands and into the groves of the branch. With a might bellow Zar’zak pulled the branch from the tree.

He quickly cleared the thorn covered vines from the branch. With the vines out of the way, Zar’zak went to work. It started slowly at first. A few unsure cuts with the carving knife, but before he knew it, Zar’zak began carving the wood like an orc possessed. It felt as if his hands were guided by an unseen force. Zar’zak concentrated on the branch drowning out the world around him as he worked. Hours passed like minutes. Eventually though Zar’zak stopped, Fresh sweat beadings down his brow in thick streams. He carefully placed the staff at the foot of the tree. He then took a few steps back and examined his work. He let out a satisfied grunt.

The staff was exactly as he remembered it. A long piece of oak stained where his blood had leaked onto the hard wood. One part of the staff started wide at the shaft and continued getting thinner till it ended in a tiny nub. The other end was curved and carved into ornately shaped spheres ending in a cruel barb. It looked almost like the tail of a scorpion. Nodding to himself,

Zar’zak put the knife back into the chest and quietly reburied it. Feeling accomplished Zar’zak took up the staff. He liked the feel of it in his right hand. It felt like a piece of himself that had been missing had returned to him, making him feel more whole.

“I gots Ash. “ He said aloud. “Futh tu go. Now whid way I go.” Zar’zak spun around looking in as many directions as he could possibly head. He stopped when he felt a soft breeze brush past him. “Dat da direction I should go.” He thought to himself. With that Zar’zak left, letting the wind guide him through the next league of his journey as the sun slowly rose behind him.

(First part in a story series concerning Zar'zaks journey. Let me know what you think. :) Also i have two other stories up. Here are the links. http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/40056-swords-and-spiders/

http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/40246-desert-water/ ))

[Jarkarll 314]

(( keep em coming !! Really enjoying them. ))

[ALikdoril 10]

(( Thank you for saying so. I'm not exactly a good writer. But it makes me happey when people enjoy my work. :) ))

[Ned Lud 1260]

((Very cool, keep em coming.))

[Slic3man 484]

((Nice writings. Keep going! I hope no one figures out you switched teachers, pretty sure that's not allowed when being taught to be a shaman.))

[ALikdoril 10]

((Heh, I figured as much. But Zar'zak is the impatient sort. So it works. Besides cause for interesting RP drama right? :) ))

[Brevias 275]

(( YES. ))

[DecoLamb 959]

[[Actually I think other shamans switched teachers too, didn't Ned Lud? Either way, write more please~]]

[ALikdoril 10]

[[Actually I think other shamans switched teachers too, didn't Ned Lud? Either way, write more please~]]

((Well, I do have two other stories up that continue the story roughly. I'll post a link to them. :) ))

[c_h_r_i_s121 20]

((every good shaman needs a story for how they obtain their first staff :P ))

[Danny 2232]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.