Wasteland_Shaman

The Khan, upon exiting his yurt to take care of his sheep, finds one such note in his mailbox. The Khan grunts before stuffing it into his kilt pocket, grumbling to himself. “Tviggies, dey ahm nub understanding ob dah true vay ob dah Urukhim…” The Khan shakes his head, his eyes focused eastwards towards the Jungles. “Ib dey vish to challenge the domain ob Votar, den dey ahm more dan velkome too, just don’ ekspekt Clan Lur to go lying daon…” Gutlug returns to his task at hand, preparing to feed the sheep for another day.

The Lur-Khan takes note of the missive that had reached him, his thoughts dwell on the prospect of this great ‘nerge’ and he enters his yurt. Preparing a Missive in turn. The orc chief takes a seat, preparing a phial of Lapis Ink and a quill as he begins scratching onto the parchment in turn… “To the Azh known as Gantulga, I am Gutlug’Lurkhan, Khan of Clan Lur under Madoc’Lurgoth of Clan Lur. And I have received your summons, and I shall answer it. You speak of a great ‘Nerge’ as your people call it, a great hunt that acts as a maelstrom of arrows and spears. This ritual honours Votar, the Bub’Hozh Ilzgûl of the Hunt. I know not how many your clan numbers yet, from what little I have seen from your people so far, numbers mean very little outside of true character. I shall answer your summons, Tungkhuidai Gantulga of the Turghit.” Lûp Votar Lûp Krug Lûp Lur The final missive has been stamped with the seal of Clan Lur.

Ya Rabbi, preserve us all this blessed Month of Ramadhan. Amin. i am most grateful for finally embarking on my journey to become a Shaman on LOTC, and I am most thankful for @Gomooreand @Caravaggiofor taking me on. I thank @ibraheemc2000, @Chrisoulis777, @adamc2000and @Ibn Khaldunfor their companionship and may their days be blessed this month.

MC Name: Gutlug’Lur Discord: ThylacineOfTheWastes Image: Description of Image: A painted image of the Lesser Spirit of Water, Voharonk of the Oasis. Used to orient focus of the shaman towards the Spirit during meditation & pilgrimage as an aid. Dimensions: 2 High, 1 Wide

Gutlug’Lur grunted, the task that was finally awaited had now been complete. He praised the Spirits for aiding in tearing down this Bûrz zkah, for this was not just a victory of the Qalasheen and Allah, but a victory for Clan Lur and the Horde. He snapped the reigns of his Horse, Tulpar, and rode off with his Qalasheen allies…Leaving the destroyed idol to Rah’tuma to erode in the desert winds.

Gutlug’Lur reminisced on his time with the Qalasheen and their first and unsuccessful attempt at tearing the shrine down...As he read through the Sheikh’s words, he nodded with approval, though not a follower of their ways, he owed Sheikh Abdur his Clan’s aid in this matter. And so Gutlug’Lur began to sharpen his scalping knife, his recent meeting with the Daimyo of Sakuragakura not lost on him, he was honour bound to participate in this ‘Jihad’. The Uruk Shaman picked up a quill, dipped it in Crushed Lapis Ink, and began writing to his Blood-Brother. “Sheikh Abdur Razzaq Al-Mona, lat be the bub’hozh friend and grizh-brother to me, Gutlug’Lur of Clan Lur. I honour myself and the blades of Clan Lur in this ‘Jihad’. Though I am unfamilair with lat’s faith, I shall honour the pact we made. Your lands are rightfully yours as granted by the Rex during the Summit of the South, I stand as witness to right this injustice by the Rah’tuman filth. May Votar grant us strength as we hunt the Bûrz infidels who plague your lands, I swear this.” Lûp Lur Lûp Votar Lûp Krug.

Gutlug’Lur on the back of a horse through the desert with his travelling companion, the Qalasheen Debb Bin Abdullah Al-Shams, after they had stopped by the Oasis. The two had spoken at length of Rah’tamu’s violation of the Oasis promised to the Qalasheen, when during their ride back to Orgrimmar, Debb had produced one of the letters sent to him. Gutlug’Lur looked upon it, hastily read it, and spat into it and continued his ride back to the Capital. Tossing the missive into the desert sands as their steed rode off, leaving dust in their wake.

The Lur’Khan Calls! A Claim to Chieftain! A missive, penned in black ink and bearing the seal of Clan Lur, is nailed to the posts of the Lur Village and the Lur Clan Hall of Orcgrimmar. “To anyazh of Clan Lur who reads this, I, Gutlug’Lur of Clan Lur, declare the title of Chieftain. For too long have our people been left without one, for too long I was left rudderless in the Deserts. The Spirits may have robbed me of much of my past, but they have shown me a future with the Clan I was destined to be enjoined. The Spirits have granted me visions of ages past, when I was Lur’Khan. A Chieftain of this great and honourable Clan, the Clan of Lur, Azhborn of KRUG. Yet the past is dead, and I must embrace the Future. Clan Lur needs a Chieftain, both with wisdom and leadership. One who shall act as the Wargoth’s hand and aide. We must also return to our roots as well, for if we do not study our Past, we shall have no future as a Clan. Therefore, I declare the Title of Chieftain, or Lur’Khan. May Votar preserve and grant his bounty to the Children of Lur til the End of Days! The Ink appears to be have been switched to a Blue Ink from crushed Lapis Lazuli. Lûp Votar! Lûp Krug! Lûp Lur!

Gutlug’Lur stared at his handiwork, the flayed skin of Ztabba-Zniffa, sans hands and feet, drying out in the Sun. He mused upon how this wayward son of Krug had fallen so far from “Da Way”, that he ended up getting crushed to death by his slain mount…And now here he was, his hide salted and tanning out in the hot desert. He nodded to his assistant, Hakiki, and they spoke at length on life and what led to this happening, regardless, the Gorkil Kub had claimed his prize, the Zniffa’s ‘Zniffa’. Gutlug’Lur placed it next to the patient’s bedside, a worthy trophy for a young Uruk…Yet he still felt a degree of unease. The Uruk sighed, shook his head, and went back to the medical lodge in order to prepare the rest of the goblin’s skinned corpse and hide for presentation to the Krimpgoth…

Looks at the missive and nods, he picks his bow up and mutters a prayer to Votar. Imploring him to guide this new generation to honour him.

Name: The Aatmahurk (True Name Gutlug’Lurkhan) Race: Orc Type(s) of Shaman: Farseer, Animist Teacher(s): Gharak’Yar (Gomoore-Farseer) Prauta’Lur (Caravagio-Animist)

Gutlug, upon closer examination of the Olog’s “declaration”, merely palms his face and sighs. “Agh dizh be dah azh kim challenge meng vor mengym raitvul pozitzhun ob Huntzgoth? Dah Kub ob Lur izh gonna hab azh hozh tik vit dizh klomp…Ztoopid ologzh kim gruk dey bettah dan Lur gonna vind out dah hard vey dat dey nebber zouldub krozz dah Klan kim be dah bubhozht huntazh agh chozen ob Votar!”