XSKip

The fired burned brightly. It rose up to the night sky in angry defiance of the darkness above it. It roared, tearing into the tightly bound leather and desert wood and sent waves of angry heat from its destruction. Standing at the front of the tent is stands Kol, with a torch in his hand. A wind gusts through, and the fire rises with it. He gazes deeply into the fire, a low growl eminating from deep within his chest. He watches as the flame licks up the worked wood and skins, the tables and firs and he smirks. A soft padding comes from behind him as a hulking scarred Lur wolf lopes beside Kol. Without looking Kol places his hand on the wolf's shoulder, his hand brustling against the fur. He looks into the fire and remembers. The cycles of days and nights with his brother in the wild. There the wolf grew in size and scars as they learned the ways of Freygoth and Votar. Lessons that were taught through brutal survival and hardship for Freygoth nor Votar are merciful to the weak. Both had learned, together, and decided to return-together. They came back and set up their blarg, like they had long ago before they had learned the lessons of Freygoth. With grunts, the wood was lifted with the watertight skins tied and draped over. Trophies and trinkets were placed and things were set as they once were. The whole time, wolf and uruk alike felt cramped. But, this was their decision and they did not back down. Then came the dream. Kol and Nugolu had come back after scouring the landscape. Their rewards after following a particularly difficult scent was a lean antelope. The antelope was skinned, cleaned, and eaten. Both uruk and wolf lay down in the sand as the night drew on as the small cook-fire slowly fluttered out on Kol's closing eyelids. He opened his eyes and found himself on a mountain looking into the vast sky. Above the brilliant constellations twinkled and turned slowly. As he looked he saw some of the stars falling, as they neared down he saw each was a glimmering wolf. The raced and hunted above the dark and somber landscape and their light was strong together. Kol's good eye widens and looks on with what seems to be longing. After a while, one breaks off from the pack, sidetracked from the prey the pack was seeking. As it meanders on Kol follows, as though his body was weightless. Slowly as the single wolf persists on, its light grows dimmer. As they travel, Kol sees a light on the horizon that the wolf is attracted to. The wolf runs rapidly, it's light fading the closer it gets until it lets one desperate howl before fading to nothing-ness. After standing in shock, Kol moves closer to the light. There he sees the city below him. The Uzg with the bonfires and torches in the night, with the build up walls, tightly bound leather, and shaped wood. With comfort.... and civilization. With that, Kol looks at the burning remains of his tent and slowly chants the ceremony of offering. "Bi pliized wif owr offurun Freygoth agh Votar." Kol and Nugolu walked, with the fire at their backs, toward the cave of their pack, fire in their eyes. The fire burned brightly. OOC: I figured I'd do a little ditty here. Thanks all for reading. If you guys have any feedback on ways the writing could be improved let me know. Thanks and happy roleplaying!

Kol watches his brothers spar. He grunts and puts his hand on the shoulder of his wolf. "Tykz hab chayngud iz fur zurtin Nugolu.... "

I approve! Very creepy. +1

It starts with the signs on the horizon of the north and the lighter wind gusting pebbles across the crude streets and bending the branches of stout scrub brush. The breeze has a faint smell that reminds some of the times in Athera. The sign on the horizon is a darker gray that gets orange as it starts to blot the sun. As it approaches the goi the dust clouds blowing over the clay hills like ghostly cavalry charging. The uruks are no stranger to these storms, with the pitiful sand and gusts having no effect on their tough hide. They go about their business, preparing for the brunt of the storm. With their preparations completed it begins. Slowly they hear the wind , starting with a low moan but increases in pitch the wind with winged speed flings dust through the cracks and crags of the desert with the vengeance of the vilest daemons. Smaller rocks go rolling like children's toys. Clay pots that weren't moved inside are flailed back and forth on the the ropes they are attached to. It is through this torched fog that the shadow of a rider can be seen, slowly moving between the buildings in the tearing howling wind. Slowly the wind abates and the rider is visible. He sits atop his scarred companion, both etched and hardened from their time in the wild. Kol coughs out some of the dust. "Wull, Nugolu, wi am bi bakk." ((This is just a more formal thing of having Kol return back to his people after going to the wilds for a long period of time. Look forward to seeing you guys in RP!))

Slowly it blew, starting from the south, it's haunting sound echoing through the desert canyons in a melancholy howl. It moves north, moving bladed yucca leaves and sand with its swift passing. Over a gurgling river it travels, ruffling a deer's fur as it continues north. The wind picks up speed, heading toward the massive uruk city, climbing over the walls like a stealthy intruder. Slowly this wind blows slowly into a tent. This tent is full of hunting trophies, skulls and hides adorning the walls whilst half carved staffs and unfletched arrows crowd the bench. Working over these sits a lean uruk with a pelt of wolf hide on his scarred brow. He stops working, his ear perks up hearing the breeze. He sniffs, this wind entering into him, singing its wandering song of sadness as it enters his lungs. He turns to his young Lur wolf, scarred and napping from a recent hunt. "Kum Nugolu" the uruk beckons. He then grabs his bow and slings a worn quiver over his shoulder. He exits his tent, the gate, the goi. Kol'Ordan heads south, following the wind. ((As time has progressed, I near closer to leaving on my mission for my church in which I will serve for two years. So this is my official goodbye. It's been a blast being able to be a part of this server and being able to hang out and interact with you people. Who knows, maybe after my two years you guys will see me again. Until then though, Gug'ye bro's and I wish you great roleplay.))

Dark elves are cool... Orcs are cooler though. I'll see you in RP bro, hope you have fun!

Imagine a world where LoTC is a hub for noobs!

((I'll be the person to ask for the n00bs. What exactly does it mean that the iron uzg is back? Do we now have specific jobs? Is it just business as usual?

Ahoy lass! We always be needin' a capable lass. *he snickers*

We be acceptin' ye laddie! Hop aboard!

Ahoy laddie! Ye be accepted t' t'e crew as long as ye want!

((YESSSSS!))

I'm still of the opinion that we can make a bigger map while actually expanding roleplay. Perhaps it's like in WoW when deathwing's arrival itself scarred the land and set up a new enemy to fight. Perhaps doing that here would work as well?

Ahoy ye helmsman, ye be welcome in t'is hearty crew!

How about we expand the map with natural disaster events? Volcanic eruptions and tectonic plate shifting as well as decreasing water levels could make for some interesting rp like avoiding burning death or scavenging from a recently revealed shipwreck that has been hidden under the water...