Wizzar

I appreciate the approach to the mechanics of necromancy and its capabilities that are detailed in this write-up. While there will be a cut to freeform as well as some strength in the current write-up, perhaps this will help to clarify some obscurities and vagueness in the lore. Good job friend +1

After the Warnation of Krugmar was dismantled, not all uruks remained to witness the growth of the Iron’Uzg. Disenfranchised with the acceptance of Xionism and Grizhizubu, some of the orcish people scattered across Almaris. Settling in the far north, a sturdy tribe took refuge in isolated caverns. Long nights enveloped by the cold, drowsy chills of winter, the uruks grew accustomed to and even looked forward to their protracted slumbers. Within these dreams, they found purpose, they found Dhûlrak. Decades later, these urukim return to their people, as the united Dhûlrak clan. These sleepy orcs have developed unique traditions and cultures that they developed in those harsh winters. The Dhûlrak people do not meddle in the other descendants affairs, strongly valuing the protection of one’s home, ensuring safety in their journeys into Drelthok’s domain. Because of this, the Dhûlrak clan see themselves as the bastion of the Iron’Uzg, fierce and loyal defenders of the goi. Hailing from the frozen desert, the Dhûlrak clan faced relentless winters, scarcity in resources, and dangerous wildlife. These conditions required the Dhûlrak to be loyal, brave, and patient. Each serving to define the Dhûlrak interpretation of honor. Whether it was hunting for food or preparing for the cold, the urukim of Dhûlrak needed to trust one another. If a single orc did not do their part or acted in their own self interest, it would sentence the rest to death. For this reason, the Dhûlrak developed a fierce sense of loyalty. To betray your kin is the greatest dishonor. Without both patience and bravery, surviving the north would have been nearly impossible. Food was difficult to find, a failed hunt could mean no food for days. Thus, patience was required to ensure a hunter moved at the right time, patience to wait through the winter’s storm, patience to go without food and water. On the same token, the Dhûlrak had to be brave and have the courage to endure such conditions. The Dhûlrak clan mainly worship Drelthok, the Spirit of Sleeping and Dreams. Their time spent in the cold caverns of the North led to a unique perspective on sleep and its connection to the spiritual plane. Without a lutamancer or farseer to derive meaning from the spirits and ancestors, the Dhûlrak found meaning and purpose within their dreams. A Dhûlrak orc believes that Drelthok creates both dreams and nightmares to guide them. Only by following the meaning within these dreams can a Uruk truly understand their purpose in the Iron’Uzg. For this reason, the Dhûlrak clan reveres and cherishes their sleep. It is of the utmost disrespect to wake a Dhûlrak orc unless an emergency exists. Notable lesser spirits recognized by the Dhûlrak clan are Kezt, Dazkur, and Akûla. Kezt is important to the Dhûlrak who uphold a traditional sense of honor that is often lost in the more recent generations of urukim. Honor comes from strength and sacrifice. To die in a worthy battle, especially when protecting the goi is highly respectable. Dazkur is also regarded within the Dhûlrak for this reason. Loyalty to the clan, and protecting their slumbering kin is what has allowed their unique culture to develop. Lastly, Akûla is a lesser spirit of winter and the frozen tundra, one that appears in the form of a moose. It is rumored that Akûla reveals itself in the dreams of the Dhûlrak, guiding urukim through the domain of Drelthok. Flograts (Dreamcatchers) - These orcish dreamcatchers are usually made of thorns and spiderwebs and are made to look intimidating to ward off any evil spirits that seek to interrupt or compromise their dreams. Tarbakar - A fur pillow that most of the clan use. Most Dhûlrak have many tarbakar. The pillows are considered crucial for a good sleep. Dhûrku - When the Winter is in full effect, most Dhûlrak participate in the Big Sleep. A pseudo-hibernation tradition whereby the Dhûlrak host an enormous feast before entering a drug-induced sleep for 5 full days. Kaaralai - Ceremony upon which a clan member receives their animal headdress. The exact ritual is only known among the clan. Thadumps - The Dhûlrak are known for their enormous drums, their deep sounds echoing through their caves Baung - The Dhûlrak clan has a large gong that is only to be used in emergencies to wake the sleeping orcs in the face of immediate danger. During the Big Sleep, one orc stays awake to keep watch near the gong. The Dhûlrak come in shades of brown, tan, and gray. They are average size urukim with sturdy physiques. Eye colors vary in different shades of gray, silver, blue, and brown. Their hair color comes in shades of gray, white, brown, and black. Deviation from these features is not uncommon. While settled in the northern parts of Almaris, the Dhûlrak orcs started the tradition of obtaining an animal headdress upon coming of age. This new tradition has persisted despite moving toward the warmer climate of the Iron’Uzg. The Wargoth and other Clan Members of the Dhûlrak clan don a fur headdress symbolizing their worship of Drelthok. It is not uncommon to see Dhûlrak orcs wearing other furs on their bodies as well as trophies from the animals they have hunted. To eat is to survive, and the Dhûlrak most certainly know how to eat. Often creating soups and breads to last them throughout the winter. Most seek foods that help in their deep slumber, thus eating many hearty and rich foods. One of the favorites amongst the Dhûlrak is ‘Woolize Ztew’, which is a long lasting stew that is made from a mixture of mushrooms and mammoth meat. Another cultural cuisine amongst the Dhûlrak is a special cold jelly, made from the milk of Iron Ram Goats, and specially blended with a mixture of juniper berries and mushrooms. Known amongst their kindred as ‘Gimk’, it is often a rare treat, mostly preferred to the heavy sleepers and cubs of the clan. Almost every Dhûlrak clan member wields a wooden round shield containing the clans insignia. It is not uncommon for these orcs to keep their shield on them at all times, keeping them within reaching distance even when they are sleeping. It is said that some Dhûlrak go as far as using their shields as pillows, lining them with thick furs. As for their weapons, most Dhûlrak clan members enjoy a one-handed mace or hammer. These blunt weapons are designed for knocking out their opponents, sending them into the nightmares of Drelthok. Hammers, maces, and even staves are common among the Dhûlrak. Even those who carry these large weapons keep their shield strapped to their back. 1. Flograt Creation The aspirant must craft a dream catcher. These trinkets are plenty among the clan who keeps one on them at all times, also adorning their caverns in such. The creation of one’s first dream catcher is an important step among the clan. Feathers, gemstones, bones, and hide are among the materials that can be used. 2. The Hunt The aspirant must travel north and hunt a large animal. No equipment can be brought, rather they must forge their own weapons or use their hands to hunt such beasts. Often times, it is on these hunts that aspirants acquire the fur for their first headdress, however such is not required. 3. Dream Walk An aspirant is placed in a drug-induced sleep whereby it is said they can enter the realm of dreams and become one with the clan. While the exact rituals of this trial are kept secret along he clan, it is said that those who complete it are awakened a new Uruk. If you are interested in making a Dhûlrak orc or in joining the Clan, message me on discord Krunos#7376 or ig at Krunos10 Writing Credits: Krunos10 (writer), Evonpire (Evonpire), SilvertheDM (cook/writer), Cheshire/Leyd (Drugs)

"Dezpite wub waz blahed, Borok waz ah bub'hozh Rex" the Hobgoblin mumbles to himself "He made da decizions dat da average urukim cood nub, he wielded ah burden dat was heavier than any elze. Da Stargush'Stroh will welcome him with open arms, mi ahm certain ov it" the Kukaal clenches a clawed fist "Mi will honor mi bruddahz legacy"

Bumba'Akaal smirks, his clawed fingers wiggling at his sides as travels through the wilderness "From azh Akaal to another... Borokz grizh zhall flow, it zhall remain within uz all"

Super cool

Panashea is the greatest. Oh and the lore is great too

The Weaver marches into the endless winter, his shambling knights following at his flank, their eyes void of sentience "The time has come" he rasps from within the steel visage "I will begin working on a new creation... one that surpasses the strength of an Olog" he finds himself next to the Lord Commander and the Skeletal Warrior, each quietly taking in the wrath of winter, excited at an opportunity for vengeance. @flexMate@SilvertheGM

Well written +1. A necessary rewrite for our favorite skeletons.

The Kukaal nods his head in approval, sacrificing a rabbit to the Feasting Pit "Hozh, hozh..."

Meeting with Water The Kukaal of Blood descended into the dark depths of the ocean, accompanied by brothers to meet a lesser of Akathro. Water is the most powerful of the elements, within each descendant, within all that is living it has the power of both life and of death. The Haruspex, the Medicgoth, the Shaman of Blood shall become one with the waves, acquiring the power to bring forth that vision he championed. Pact # 2

Wagh

"Mi enjoyed da edition with mi name ihn it more, but diz ahm ztill bub'hozh zkah" the Kukaal of Akaal smirks as he reads such blessed works.

Dear Almaris, A certain 24-25 year old Adunian male requires a skygod to navigate their journey on the server. We are looking for active players who can commit to the persona. The roleplay tends to be darker and more serious. If you are interested, message me on discord @ Raztun#7376

The Kukaal of Akaal raises his twisted knife, its blade etched with foreign, red symbols "Globz" he mutters, slamming that instrument down, blood splattering across his entirety. "It ahm interezting, very interezting when da elderly truly begin to loze their grukkerz, descending into madnezz. It ahm the fault ov all of uz to allow the Mot-Sham to hold onto such ah pozition when his grukker ahm clearly decayed and uzeless. When latz open latz peeperz latz will peep dat it ahm juzt zome goblinz abandoning, betraying da urukim to promote der own agenda, fer da ilzgul agh power haz corrupted them" The Doktur wipes blood from his brow. "Mi grukz diz will be ah zhort conflict, fer da urukim will always rize to defeat thoze who ahm againzt uz, we defy all oddz agh theze oddz are in our favor"

Meeting with Tiimûrnûl The Doktur’s soul drifted from his body, everything went black as it traversed planes. Before his new reality set in, a throbbing sensation crept into his mind. Burning, itching, cramping, gnawing, every faucet of pain cycled through his entirety, growing and growing in intensity. When it felt as if the hobgoblin could take no more, the wretched realm appeared to him. His temporary physical form laid on its back, his vision blurry as his eyes fluttered open. Thwack, thwack, thwack... sharp objects ravaged his form. His eye, his neck, his torso, and his feet burned with pain as his flesh was torn, his crimson fluids flowing down his sides. When the Doktur finally was able to see clearly, he saw those hideous vultures that fed on him, he raised his clawed hands, waving them away. Slowly he rose, coughing up dirt and bile as he assessed his surroundings. He stood on an open plain, corpses of faceless descendants littered the ground, hundreds if not thousands of vultures making a meal of the slaughter. Between those bodies, a path revealed itself to the Doktur who limped forward, his body still bleeding, pain enveloping his entirety. It was not for a few minutes until the hulking creature revealed itself before him at the end of the path. The figure was enormous, at least 10 ologs large, its head was that of a raven, its body was that of a rotting uruk, wings on its back that were tattered and bleeding. It tossed corpses in the air, throwing them down its beak, crunching their bones with terrifying pops and cracks. Before the Doktur could speak a word, the creature swept forward, lunging at him with its wicked talons, raising the hobgoblin into the air before him. “Mirz skaat-ik nûl!” it screeches, the decibels piercing the hobgoblins ears, blood dripping from his head. “Budg-izg Bumba ov Akaal, ghûlum-izg urukim” the shaman manages between heavy breaths “Gaakh-izg fiith-nûl, Gaakh-izg gor-nûl. Bagd-latz shum-azh?” “Tiimûrnûl, thrak-nûl, lata-izg blah agh latz brus-gothûrz” it replies, offering the agonizing pact before tossing that hobgoblin into the air snapping its beak onto his form. The Doktur screamed in pain as he was devoured and chewed by the lesser spirit. After a few moments, his soul returned to his form, the memory of that terrible pain etched into his core.

The Kukaal of Akaal reads the notice, his claws digging into its pages "I saw you as one of the urukim" he inhales a breath "While I wonder whether we could have done more to extend your life, I am sure that you now reside with our ancestors in the Stargush. As for Emony, your daughter is one of the greatest among our kind, one that I find incredible potential in. May you rest peacefully old friend" With that, the hobgoblin returns to his work in the Feasting Pit.

A certain Hobgoblin carefully reads each and every word, nodding in his head in approval "Yub, diz ahm hozh" he smirks "Mi ahm glad to peep Kor'Garr back in da goi"

THE NEW MEDICGOTH *bloodied parchments are posted around the blargs of San’Velku* Throm’ka urukim! I am sure you all know me, Bumba’Akaal, Kukaal of clan Akaal. I have decided to take over the medical office. In my decades of medical training and aimlessly walking around the hospital in Haense, I have become proficient in all forms of healing, physical and mental. I consider myself an expert medical Haruspex and Witch Doctor. With over 10000 hours in bloodletting, trepanation, and cursed healing, I have almost saved a few lives. This serves as a formal declaration for the position of MEDICGOTH. With that, I will be accepting two applications for assistants. If you are interested in learning the arts of healing, send word to me, the MEDICGOTH. Together, we shall strive for a surgery success rate of at least 50%. Signed Bumba’Akaal, Medicgoth of the Iron’Uzg (If your stuff is in the doctor’s office, it is my stuff now)

The Kukaal carried that burn-scarred uruk to the top of the Clan Hall, the sun buried beneath dark, ominous clouds. His mentor, his teacher, and his closest friend's body laid lifeless before the Shrine of Krug, his body deformed by the burns of the treacherous flames. Bumba'Akaal's lanky form trembled, his verdant orbs surrounded by a red haze. The first student of Skaatchnak retrieved his worn haruspexy knife, its bone-adorned blade etched with strange red symbols. Pressing its sharpness against the dead's skin, he carved along his forearm, allowing the old shaman's crimson fluid to spill onto the stone. The red symbols glow, a red fog seeming to appear around the duo as he moved the blade along his own arm. A pool of blood surrounded the two, dripping down the steps of the old Rex Palace. Bumba extended his arm forward, placing his bleeding forearm against his teacher's. "Grizh-hon, Grizh-hul... da cycle of grizh continues mi teacher. Latz grizh continues into da new era, an era of blood agh flame. Da Heartbeat will alwayz connekt latz to da mortal plane, lup'Throqugrizh" With that, the hobgoblin closed his eyes, mumbling a prayer to his Ancestor before beginning his march back to his blarg to begin preparations for the burial.

Paying his continued respect to Skaatchnak, the Bloodflame Shaman and Krothuul, the Last Ramgoth, the Kukaal dazes off, his form becoming limp against the stone steps before the Shrine of Krug. The visions of the crimson battlefield illuminate in his dreams, that visage of himself in terror as that gargantuan beast ravages all in its path. The Witchdoctor awakens from this prophetic nightmare, his eyes opening to his fallen brothers once more. "Da urukim ahm nub strong enough... mi grukz wi may all join latz both in da Stargush soon" With that Bumba'Akaal returns to planning their burial rites, his sorrowful gaze now etched with fear.

The Kukaal rises from the dirt floor of his blarg in haste. His breathing heavy, sweat dripping from his furrowed brows. Twisting his head left and right to ensure nobody was around, he exhaled a long sigh, raising a clawed appendage to his temple. Awake from his shortened slumber, the hobgoblin gets to work, marching down into the Feasting Pit to make that dream a story, piecing together each fragment into a living story, one that he can look back on if necessary.

Great lore by great people.

Good takes.

How would you power rank the top 5 shamans?