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  1. TO ALL URUKIM, The second born of KRUG, Gorkil, perfectly embodied the idea of a season orcish warrior. Through superior tactics, physical ability, and honor, Gorkil was able to steer his armies to victories against insurmountable odds. He was an ideal Son of Krug, one of the greatest orcs to ever live. Gorkil’s first and most favored son, Angbad, wanted to carry on his father’s legacy after his passing. In doing so, he founded Clan Gorkil, one of the eldest and most notable Orcish clans that the realms of Aos and Eos had seen. But through time, this once grand and honorable clan has waned. Wargoths had come and go, and its members had scattered throughout the land. To preserve the values of our ancestors, I, Kho’Gorkil, claim the mantle of Wargoth of Clan Gorkil. Any challengers may meet me in the pit.
  2. [!] Missives sent across the lands of Almaris flutter in the wind. Upon opening one would see the dense parchment is written upon with a refined yet bulky Common script in vivid crimson ink. The text smells faintly of wild berries and the tang of copper. [!] To all that may read this message, I imagine many have forgotten my name, if not the titles I held. Yazgurtan. Dominus. Rex of Krugmar. Clanless. After a long task given to me by the spirits themselves, I have returned to resume my station in supporting the prosperity of the Iron’Ugz. What seems like weeks to me appears to have been much longer for all of you, and Kor’Garr looks forward to learning about those changes made across the lands. I make my way to San’Velku with pride, knowing the spirits acknowledge me as a proper Uruk-kin, despite my troubling absence from leadership in a time of great strife for our people. With my return there are those I must reach out towards in order to learn more of the changing times, though any and all are welcome to reply to this message. To the Musin, small of stature but great of heart: How have the burrows been, my small friends? I hope the stouts have remained honorable and that your kind have not been overlooked during the changing times. Feel free to bring me more of your collected “shinies” and the forge will be ready to craft more tools for your people so no coinpurse will remain unscathed. Hopefully I will make a visit with more baked goods to share… Though Kor’Garr must apologize again for the cocolog incident, I sincerely forgot about your negative reactions to cattle-milk. To the peoples of Yong Ping, tradition and elegance everlasting: It has been far too long since Kor’garr has visited your coasts or heard the echo of haiku in the wind; many have been made over my travels to share with you all. Perhaps there will be another Mochi contest to take part in? To think such acts of glorious violence could produce such excellent grub… Nevertheless Kor’Garr plans to honor the duties as Ambassador with gladness. Perhaps another bottle of that Hirano Grog will be shared? To the Twiggiez of Elvenesse, timid and meek: If Kor’garr hears anything about you fools breaking a treaty (again) or denying to hand over proper tribute (again) while I have been gone… Well we have already been through this before, Yub? To the stowtz, greedy and impulsive: You all say you keep grudges. Kor’garr does as well. Kor’garr remembers the Honorless actions of your people when they attempted to invade San’Velku on rumors and hearsay alone, how H’ (Five) of your brethren died for each Uruk-kin laid to rest in battle. Those Irehearts, who we accepted as vassal, turning upon us like the greedy and traitorous snakes they are, spitting lies through your ragged beards like Iblees attempted to deceive Krug himself. Bakir Ireheart… If lat are still around you best pray for the Spirits of the Stargush’Strozh to give you mercy, as Kor’garr certainly will not. Maybe we will trim that unsightly scruff you call a beard off of your face again, it never compared to my glorious mustache anyways. Agh Finally, to my brothers and sisters in San’Velku: Priipayr dah Vorge, git dah grog agh grubbinz reddi, agh lite dah kaktuz greenz! Wiz gunna zelebrayt zoon az Kor’Garr ztepz thru dah gaytz! Lup’Betharuz, Lup Krug! Der wihl bi tik vor zeriyuz Blah laytur, Kor’Garr wuntz tu parti azht. Wihl evin kook dah spezhul zpicee Bare-ztaykz vor lat awl, juzt loike dah Grubgothz yuzed tu! Peep lat gitz zoon! With Hozh’ Tidingz; Kor'Garr The Clanless Blacksmith Urukkin Ambassador to Yong Ping Musin Friend
  3. Thanks to @Mirvam, I found out about Mine-imator and was able to make this animation. It doesn't actually hold any lore significance, it's just the intro from Blood Omen: Legacy of Kain with some imagery of my MArt and Mordor stuff. Hope you like it.
  4. WHAT ARE ORCS? ORCS are the sons and daughters of KRUG, one of the first brothers that each race is descended from. They have three sub-races: goblins, uruks, and ologs. They follow the faith of spiritualism culturally, as their ancestor KRUG and his first children did. They are known for their shamanism, size, and mightiness, along with their diverse and unique culture. Orcs have a bloodrage due to the curse that every descendant received; if they have not killed someone in a long time, they will be blinded with wrath and aim to kill anything that moves. But due to their blessing, Orcs will show honor even where there is none. WHAT IS SPIRITUALISM? Spiritualism is the belief in and worship of the spirits (beings that range from ancestral orcs to immortal god-like elementals). The common practice for ORCS is to have a couple of patron spirits that they worship and use to shape their everyday lives. For example, a blacksmith would worship Gentharuz or Azog, thanking them for the ability to smith a great weapon or hoping to smith as well as they could. WHAT DO ORCS LOOK LIKE? ORCS range in size due to their many sub-races and their naturally denser muscle mass. All of them have two things in common: their tusks and pointed ears. Orcs are also known for their unusually diverse range of skin color. Due to KRUG being burned by the fires of Iblees, he had turned green. However, many of the orcs of today are highly distinct in their skin color, being able to range from a sea blue to even a crimson red. WHAT ARE THE SUB-RACES OF ORCS? GOBLINS are the smallest of the three, standing from 3' 6" to 6', with a physique similar to that of an average elf or human. They are the smartest of all descendants. URUKS are the most common subrace, range in height from 6 to 8 feet, with physiques that are typically large at around 600 pounds due to their denser muscle mass. Uruks can vary in their physique. They are twice as strong as the other descendants, though they have the same mental capabilities as the others. OLOGS are the largest of the three sub-races. They are 8 to 10 feet tall, weigh up to 1000 pounds, and require a creature application (CA) to play. They are also the dumbest of the races, having the mind-set of an average child. They are four times as strong as other descendants. ORC CULTURE ORCS are known for their unusual culture, built around hard work, spiritualism, and their bloodlust. They worship the spirits and follow what their ancestors have done for them, trying to do the same. To prove to KRUG that they are worthy, to show honor in their lives, and to make their ancestors, spirits, and their brethren proud. An ORC is blessed with honor, and the way they show this honor is by not beating the weak, as well as not killing children. If an ORC is seen not upholding the standards they are supposed to promote, they will face punishment. By banishment or worse.
  5. KRUG = the brother that defeated iblees. KRUGMENISTANI = people of KRUG HONORARIES = descendants with a body of a non orc, but a soul of one. DARK SPAWN = beings and people associated with dark magic and the dark forces. WHAT ARE THE WHITEWASH? The whitewash are orcs known as lessers by the Krugmenistani people. They are orcs (including honoraries) that have strayed from their cultural path and kruggahood. They are those that show no honor, no truth and loyalty towards KRUG, among other things. They are known among true orcs to be equal to dirt. Though, one can regain their honor and place within the Urukim. HOW DOES ONE REGAIN THEIR HONOUR Once an orc is claimed to be a whitewash, they have the right to disprove it. Though, there are times when the whitewash has shown more than enough to prove that they are a whitewash and only punishment remains. However, if you accept the fact that you are a lesser you gain another chance to rejoin your honorable kin. This is done by trials. The trials will be random, though they are there to prove that you are what you say you are, an honorable descendant of KRUG. They are set to be difficult and challenging. Testing the descendants to see if they are worthy to live among the spirits, the honorable and the mighty. ARE YOU A WHITEWASH? Do you live among elves, humans and others but hold no loyalty, as well as affiliation towards Krugmenistan? Do you show no honor, no self worth and no loyalty to the spirits? Do you allow the enemies of KRUG and the dark spawn walk among you? Then yes, you are a whitewash! Come over to Krugmenistan so we can regain your honor!
  6. Bukotob Uruk-hai agh Bûrzgolug Non Aggression Both the parties of The Iron Horde and Ashen Realm of Nor’asath will adhere to a pact of non-aggression and will not incite conflict between either side. Both signatories will recognize each other's respective realms as sovereign independent lands and will not subvert the ruling authorities of each respective territory. Nor’asath recognizes The Iron Horde as the sole authority of the Uruk-kin. The Iron Horde recognizes Nor’asath as the sole authority of Mali’ker. Trade & Travel Signatories will agree to trade with one another. Both signatories will allow each respective nation an untaxed stall. Both Signatories will allow free passage for each other's citizens under the same laws as the respective land. Duration The Pact between the Iron Horde and the Ashen State of Nor’asath will endure for fifteen years. Upon Expiration the Pact may be reinstated Primarch of Nor'asath and the Mali'ker High Priestess of Nor’asath Onyx Chief of Nor’asath REX, Willy of San’Velku and The Iron Horde DOMINUS, Madoc'Lur, The Keeper of Knowledge
  7. KRUZH is a lesser, and rather insignificant travelling warband. Due to their chaotic, broad nature and unstable conditions of life - the group's membership and traditions lean closer towards those of bandit crews rather than the huge, well organized orc clans in their home nation of Krugmar. Despite not showing clear signs of it, or even fighting for other races' benefit sometimes, members of the group are known with each other over pride in their race and its purity, which more than often translates into their hatred for other races, or even other breeds of orcs in some extreme cases. Association with the group is achievable by anyone willing to match their unpredictable nature and lifestyles, but direct membership is rumored to be very gatekept. All potential recruits have to be red uruk orcs without a hint of foreign influence in their beliefs or fighting styles. Most of them are picked up from their settlements and promised great adventures at a very young age. The misfits KRUZH targets more than often agree and grow up among the group's horrible influence and unhealthy lifestyle. Throughout their teenage and early adult years they're put through extensive training and tests - eventually earning their spot in the group. KRUZH's initiation rituals are secret, but it's a common thing for new & old initiates to wear white war paint over their body, the actual amount of it depending on a member's seniority.
  8. “Only disappointment lies for them at the end of their Olû Tiil Fruutal, where they will be turned away from the Doraz-ob Kor.” TO NEVAEHLEN AZH Your village, the Vale of Nevaehlen, harbors an Uruk who bears the status of Whitewash. Every Uruk who strays from the path of Krug is labeled as such, as departure from the path is one of the most dishonorable feats an Uruk can commit. I, REX Sahgorim’Ugluk, demand that the Whitewashed Uruk known as Urgnarz is handed to the Uzg for marking. He will return alive, provided he does not resist the marking process. Urgnarz was labeled as whitewash due to his departure from the path of Krug. The whitewash in question even goes so far as to avoid any situation with Uruks from the Uzg, hiding himself away from those who tread an honorable path for reasons the Goth council only assumes to be weak attempts to avoid punishment. DUB Your claims of dishonor are baseless. I, REX Sahgorim’Ugluk, merely acted in self-defense not two cactus weeks ago when the Matriarch haphazardly assaulted me during my searching, even after I had warned her not to approach me any further in an attempt to circumvent a fight. I will not entertain the claims of lessers who wish to warp said events to fit their narrative. GAHK I advise the people of Nevaehlen not to insert themselves into the cultural practices of the Uzg. It will only end poorly for those who do. See Raja. SIGNATURES Sahgorim of Clan Ugluk, Rex of the Iron’Uzg, Bullgoth of Clan Ugluk
  9. A missive, penned in blue ink in the Orcish script, pinned with an arrow firmly to the noticeboard of Krugmar. The missive reads as follows, “To dah azh dat tinkzh dat dah title ob Huntzgoth be nub fit for dah Kubzh ob Lur… Zhengyn butun inzult Lur vit zhengyn aktionzh agh grukkage! For hundredzh agh thouzandzh ob Kaktuz Yearz agh Moons, dah Kubzh ob Lur hab been honouring bizhym anzeztor agh forefather LUR! Kub ob KURG! Chozen ob VOTAR! Meng kom to klaim dah title ob Huntzgoth kuz meng AHM Lur’Khan, meng AHM nub afraid ob dah beaztzh agh kritterz dat forestzh’da libzh! Meng AHM readeh for dah challenge ob dah mantle ob Huntzgoth, dizh be dah Legacy ob Lur. Ab Lur waz chozen by Votar gib Bub’hozh huntah, zo too muzt azh Kub ob Lur rize to dah Challenge… May dah zpiritz blezh dah Kubzh ob Lur kim honour dah Anzeztorz agh bizhym Veyzh! Dah Vey ob KRUG! Meng, GUTLUG LUR’KHAN klaim dah mantle ob Huntzgoth edder by dah blezing ob dah Rex agh dah Zpiritz, oa dah Grizh ob dah Klomp! LÛP’LUR, LÛP VOTAR, LÛP KRUG!” Sealed to the bottom of the missive is the seal of Clan Lur, a Wolf and Moon.
  10. TO THE HORDE A Joint Declaration from the Eastern Almaris Treaty Organization Our patience grows thin Rex Borok. The declaration of you taking the Jindle bandits under your protection was unwise. For a race that proclaims themselves as an honorable people, you aligned yourselves with bandits that are from an age of dishonor and greed. As you allied with the Jindles you proclaimed that they shall not bandit unless given your explicit permission. Not too long ago, you attempted to extort The Kingdom of Norland into paying tribute, breaking your alliance with them. You then banditted, raided and killed the citizens of not only the Kingdom of Balian, but the Kingdoms of Urguan and Haense. We gave you mercy when you disowned these brigands and banished them from your volcanic lands. But this was just a front. Not a stone day ago, scouts returned to the Grand King reporting that the Jindles were actively helping, living and assisting the orcs still, and that they rallied with your warriors when Malinor asked for a meet. Considering you have lost two wars and have been driven to bankruptcy, we would've thought that The Horde would have learned their lesson. It seems clear that you have not. Your failures are known throughout all the lands and we wonder if the citizens of Krugmar ever get tired of dealing with a spineless monarch. These offenses will not go unanswered. In order to avoid the annihilation of The Horde, Rex you must agree to the following. I. Allow the EATO alliance to establish a fort on your lands as well as access to your city to ensure no more wrongdoing occurs. II. Issue a formal apology to the EATO alliance for attacking its citizens and violating its sovereignty. III. Pay a collective sum of 6,000 minas to the EATO alliance for compensation of life lost. You have until the day ends to make your decision. Signed, Grand King of Urguan, Bane of the Orcs, Bane of Philip III HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, John I, by the Grace of GOD, King of Balian, Viscount of Eflen, Baron of Brucca, Lord of Atrus and Monterosa, Prince of the Holy Orenian Empire, and Protector of the Heartlanders, etcetera. His Royal Majesty KARL III by the Grace of Godan, King of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Solvesborg, Slesvik and Ulgaard, Duke of Carnatia and Vanaheim, Margrave of Korstadt, Rothswald and Vasiland, Count of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Torun, and Toruv, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant, Venzia and Astfield, Lord of the Westfolk, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera
  11. 12th of the Ambers Cold DEMANDS OF JUSTICE ᛏᚺᛖ ᛞᛁᛋᚺᛟᚾᛟᚱᚨᛒᛚᛖ ᚱᛖᛪ ᛋᚺᚨᛚᛚ ᚠᚨᛚᛚ It was assumed after Krug refused Ibleeses temptations and helped defeat the evil god, that his descendants would be the most strong, honorable and the greatest dark creature hunters of the realm. But as seen before in history, the orcs have fallen from their ways, dishonoring their great ancestor and dishonoring what he stood for. The Horde has taken another step to dishonor their creator, by capturing and killing a son of Urguan, of honorable and great descent. Hailing from the greatest line of Yavok and Kjell. Falling not in battle nor old age, but by the blades of the horde, behind closed doors with the intent of keeping their deaths secret. This is not the end of their dishonor. The Horde has allowed the corrupted dragon-kin to infect their land and their people. The Rex has allowed an academy of Azdrazi to settle on his land and live in the once occupied Ireheart town. But evil often hides itself in the shadow, not revealing its true face to the people of this realm, and often to its own kin. The Rex has done the same. He has not only colluded with the Azdrazi by allowing them to settle on his lands, but he has worked with them closely and helped them thrive within the lands of Krugmar, to find a home and spread the taint of Iblees. These transgressions and attacks cannot go unanswered, especially by the sons of Urguan who hold honor and justice close to their hearts, who strive to kill dishonor where it stands and banish evil where it hides. And so Grand King Bakir Ireheart alongside the entire Grand Kingdom of Urguan declare the following terms to the tainted Rex who has not only transgressed against the dwedmar, but to all descendants. The Horde shall do the following: I. Formally allow the Grand Kingdom to enter Krugmar and expel the Azdrazi from the domain of the Rex. As well as destroy the Pirate Cove for illegally harboring Azdrazi and settling on Ireheart soil. II. The Horde will hand over the orcs who have dishonorably killed Balor Ireheart and face trial by the Urguani courts. III. The Horde shall pay 7.5k minas in compensation to the Grand Kingdom for not only allowing the influence of Iblees to spread but also compensation for the assault, capture and killing of dwedmar. IV. The Rex shall agree to deliver a sum of 20 stacks of leather to the Grand Kingdom. The Horde shall have two days to adhere to these terms or The Grand Kingdom of Urguan shall issue a Grudge alongside a declaration of War to defeat the servants of evil and to achieve Justice. Upon agreeing to these honorable terms, the Grand Kingdom shall sign a non-aggression pact with The Horde lasting for 10 years.
  12. THE IRON UZG Land of the Horde “Lup’Krug” The crimson Scaddernak against a black field CONTENTS: I. Culture II. Hierarchy III. Military IV.City The orcs of the Iron Uzg are a stalwart people. Comprised out of Uruks, Ologs, Goblins and any other descendants that bring worship to the spirits under the Scaddernak banner. The denizens of the Uzg live with a strong code of strength, honor, and religious zealotism. Strength: Krug is revered in the Uzg. Father of all orc kind, he is seen as the ultimate role-model for a citizen. As such, the orcs value strength, and many leadership positions are gained through brutal duels and displays of strength. Day to day disputes are handled via fist and blood in honorable duels, where the spirits choose the victor. The orcs value strength in all matters of their life, be it hunting a wild beast or training alongside the Krughai military. A Lur out on the hunt Religion: The orcs greatly respect the Ilzgul, their brutal deities. The ancestors of all orcs, aswell as the Immortal and Elemental spirits form the religion of the Uzg. Denizens of the Uzg boast their loyalty to the spirits in acts of sacrifice, be it a sheep to the Immortal spirit of war or a familial weapon to a deceased ancestor. Farseers, Lutuaman, Witchdoctors or practitioners of the Haruspex dot the Uzg aswell, offering their worship to the spirits with their mysterious magics. Honor: Bringing honor to your name and clan is of paramount importance to a citizen of the Uzg, for how else will one travel to Stargush’Stroh, the afterlife of the orcs? This quest for honor will bring the Orc to many challenges, all of which they are expected to handle with nobility and respect to their uruk brethren. Even in times of strive and civil war, deeds of respect and honor were perceived between battling clans. Small tidbits: The Iron Uzg subforum is full of beautifully done loreposts by our community. From the star readers of the Ilzhonal to the brutal bloodletters of the Haruspex, it is heavily encouraged for every Orc player to look into these posts and discover the best orc they can be. The Iron Uzg is a beautiful ground for quality curated RP. The hierarchy of the Uzg is simple and ancient, honoring the old way of the first Goths. The Iron Uzg’s government is a stalwart and proud force, dedicating their lives to the bettering of the Uzg always. REX Above all is the Rex, Krug’s chosen. They will lead the Iron Uzg with strength, nobility and wisdom. The Rex has the ability to change the Uzg how they see fit, and is the figurehead of all Orcs. HONOR COUNCIL The honor council is the main governmental power of the Iron Uzg. They handle all things to do with the state of the nation. Each Goth on the council has proven themselves to lead their specific part of Orc Life. Dominus: The Dominus is the right hand man of the Rex, leading the Uzg’s diplomacy and ensuring all the Rex’s policies are enacted smoothly and without struggle. The Dominus is commonly seen as the Rex’s heir if there is no challenge to his claim, and will take Rexdom after an abdication or death. Targoth: The Targoth is the leader of the Krughai, the Iron Uzg’s military. They will work closely with the Yazgurtan to ensure the Krughai has all logistical needs it requires, whilst training up Uruk soldiers and leading them in battle. The Targoth is a well respected rank within the Iron Uzg, and is a veteran and battle-hardened soldier. Yazgurtan: The Yazgurtan is the steward/mayor/logistician of the Iron Uzg. They oversee all things within the city borders, be it housing or district renovation. The Yazgurtan also oversees logistics within the Iron Uzg, and works closely with the Rex to ensure the armories and treasuries are always full. Motsham: The Motsham is the spiritual leader of the Iron Uzg. They are the voice of the ancestors, immortals and elementals. Usually a wizened old shaman, the Motsham will lead the Uzg in spiritual events and worship. Huntsgoth: The Huntsgoth is Votar’s chosen within the Iron Uzg. They will lead the orcs in mighty hunts across the Rex’s lands. It is expected of the Huntsgoth to return with trophies for the Goi, and to work closely with the Grubgoth in ensuring the orcs always have meat for their many feasts. Grubgoth: The Grubgoth is a major cultural leader within the Uzg, and is tasked with maintaining orcish morale with feasts, festivals and other cultural events. They work closely with the Huntsgoth to supply meat to the Uzg’s denizens while arranging tournaments with the Targoth. A Lak chieftain THE WARGOTH COUNCIL The Wargoth Council is the voice of the clans, tribes and bands of the Iron Uzg. The leaders of these groups sit on the Wargoth Council to discuss the interactions between the many groups of the Iron Uzg, though different groups hold more power than other based on their prestige and strength. Wargoth Clan: A Wargoth Clan is a group of orcs that have gained the respect and prestige of the Rex based on their current power. They have been promoted from a Warchief Tribe and hold more sway over the Uzg than those below them. [Requirements for Wargoth Clan: 5+ Active members(7+ hrs per week) The leader of the claimant group(Wargoth) has hosted an event weekly for the Uzg for three consecutive weeks in a row The claimant group is more than a month old] Warchief Tribe: A Warchief Tribe is a group of orcs that have gained enough prestige to be notable in the eyes of the Uzg. They have been promoted from a Warband and hold more sway than those below them, but less sway than the Wargothdom. [Requirements for a Warchief Tribe” 2+ Active members(7+ hrs per week) The leader of the claimant group(Warchief) has hosted an event for the Uzg in the previous two weeks. Once the two weeks pass by and no event has been hosted by the Warchief Tribe, the claimant group will be demoted back to a Warband. ] Warband: A warband is a group of orcs who have banded together for a common goal. These are commonly beginning tribes or families within the Uzg that wish to make a name for themselves. They are not awarded a seat on the Wargoth Council. Armor of the Uruk-Hai The Iron Uzg has a strong military culture, and it is expected for every able bodied citizen to serve their tenure in the Krughai. Formed by the mighty Rex, Mogroka’Gorkil, the Krughai has always been a staple of Orcish culture. Lead by the Targoth, the Krughai defends the Goi in times of war and leads the assault against the Rex’s enemies. Proven and seasoned warriors might rise the ranks to become Keshig, orcish knights who defend the Rex and the Uzg until their last breath, fighting thrashing and bloodied up to the end. On the contrary, shamed and dishonorable uruks become Pugged, and every citizen has the right to beat and brutalize the Pugged until they prove themselves once more. The Iron Uzg lives a cruel life, and the Krughai reflects that. San’Velku, Capital of the Uzg The Iron Uzg prides itself in it’s city, building with brutal architecture in dangerous lands. Ever since the times of Krug, the Iron Uzg has situated itself in the most hostile environments possible, as it is believed the surrounding fauna and flora will harden the uruks into strong and honorable warriors. From the firelands to the harsh deserts, orcs have had a wide range of capitals. Currently, the Iron Uzg is situated in the city of San’Velku in the western jungles. Within this city, an orc can find the arena, smithy, tavern, haruspex caves and various blargs of their choosing, each decorated with the trophies of the orcs’ hunts and their achievements. Outside the jungles, the Iron Uzg also holds other members under it’s banner. Haelun’or, Daeland, the Khelites and more are all sworn to fight alongside the Scaddernak banner. Be sure to seek these out!
  13. (An image from the Library of Yar, depicting a family of Yar Bone-Singers in traditional runed bonemasks.) Oh, how Barbog exemplified the spirit of Yar today! Leading a band of almost ten-thousand strong to the impenetrable fortress of the Ferrymen, with the weight of the life of a poor noble lass, and perhaps the world, upon his shoulders! It is a wonder that women of all races aren't already throwing themselves at his feet- not that he would accept any, of course. To leave a family behind is to only bring more weight upon him when he inevitably goes to save more fair maidens from their oppressors! Indeed, it is time that Barbog is recognized for his strength, his wit, his wisdom, his indominable faith in the Spirits, and the honor he brings to all of Uruk-kind through his every act. Drumming his hand upon the windowsill overlooking the empty village, he pens this declaration to be displayed throughout the Horde's territories; To All the Peoples of the Horde From San'velku to H'nor, Know This; THROUGH THE MIGHT AND WILL OF THE GLORIOUS BARBOG, SAVIOR OF PRINCESSES AND HERO OF THE URUK-HAI, THE CLAN OF Yar SHALL BE REVIVED! Be not afeared, good peoples of the Horde, for this is not a declaration of war or secession, but a declaration to the unwavering strength of your brothers-in-arms! Clan Yar, the traditional clan of wisemen among the Uruk-Hai, has long seen better days. With no response from former Yars, I fear them passed or in self-exhile. I have spent many moons and many months among the ancestral lands of the former Yars, having been under the tutelage of some, and studying the remains of their village library since. Whilst I cannot claim to be chosen by Yars to continue their great clan, I would rather face disrespect in the Stargush'Stroh by their ancestors for falsely assuming the title, than face the shame of letting this grand clan die. I write this missive as a declaration of my assumption of Yargoth, and in doing so, name myself Barbog'Yar, Savior of Princesses, Hero of the Second Horde, Shaman of Krathol's Eternal Suffering, Honorary Halfling of Honeyhill, Friend to the Vale of Nevaehlen, and the Last Vigilant of Yar's Way. I shall strive to do this title honor, and, should any of my brothers seek to prove themselves, be they of Uruk-hai blood or Honorary Uruk, I fully intend to contend Clan Trials soon to see whomst among you may stand beside me in representing Yar's Way. I leave you with these parting words from the late Malog'Yar, founder of Clan Yar; “Wisdom is born of a strong mind. It is more practical than philosophy, agh goes beyond mere knowledge. It is the ability for right living, common sense, wit, resolution of life’s problems, agh success beyond material gain. Gruk for latself, but heed the blahings of those more experienced with the respect agh consideration due them. Learn from life, agh apply latz learning in a way that means something.” 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓫𝓸𝓰'𝓨𝓪𝓻 Last Vigilant of Yar’s Way Hero of the Second Horde
  14. Catarrh

    Clan Yar

    <O> Yar: Many years ago, the great shaman Malog raised the banner of Yar for the first time in Anthos, instating a long-running clan of wisemen and those dedicated to the worship of the spirits. Symbolised by the duhnah skhelll, the great man-eating tortoises of the desert, they revere the Ancestral spirit Yar, said to be the wisest of his clan. While Yars place great emphasis on spirituality and the attainment of wisdom, they follow the basic fundamentals of orcish life and value strength and honour; they are still orcs, and will fight ferociously alongside their brothers in other clans in times of battle. However, they must also be able to think, and discern what is wise and honorable. A Yar is also expected to have an acute awareness of the spirits, even if that particular orc does not happen to be a shaman. The Yars remember at all times that the eyes of Krug and the spirits are upon them. Whether hunting, fighting, or whatever they do, they must keep this fact in mind, and live for the spirits. Not every Yar will be a shaman. Not every Yar will become famed as some kind of great orcish thinker, but every Yar can bring some honor to the orc for whom the clan was named by exercising wisdom to the best of his or her ability. “Wisdom is born of a strong mind. It is more practical than philosophy, agh goes beyond mere knowledge. It is the ability for right living, common sense, wit, resolution of life’s problems, agh success beyond material gain. Gruk for latself, but heed the blahings of those more experienced with the respect agh consideration due them. Learn from life, agh apply latz learning in a way that means something.” -The Contemplations of Malog, V1 \o/ Culture: Seven Pillars of Honor: Strength Valor Boldness Contentment Wisdom Forthrightness Discipline Seven Pitfalls of Dishonor: Weakness Irresolution Cowardice Avarice Thoughtlessness Duplicity Complacency Branding: Upon initiation into the Yar clan, and following completion of three trials presented by one or more elders, new members are branded with the image of the duhnah skhelll. The initiate must then swear his allegiance to the clan as he sacrifices an animal: “Mi zwayr mi eturnul allejunze tu da Yar klan. Mi zwayr tu lib bai da klan law kode, agh tu walk en da wizdum agh onur ob Yar. Zhud mi ebur bitray da klan, mi wull bi kurz’d tu hab mi bluud zpill’d az diz animul. Mi wull bi flat’d en helplezznezz agh dizonur!” Translation: “I swear my eternal allegiance to the Yar clan. I swear to live by the clan law code, and to walk in the wisdom and honor of Yar. Should I ever betray the clan, I will be cursed to have my blood spilled as this animal. I will die in helplessness and dishonor!” Sacrifices: As is common among orcs, the Yar clan performs sacrifices. These are often at special occasions, but sometimes just for the sake of sacrificing. The sacrifices take two forms: blood offerings and grain offerings. Blood Offerings These are offerings of living creatures. Humans, elves, kharajyr, and dwarves. Livestock. Grain Offerings These are burnt offerings of wheat or any other form of produce. It has been a custom in Malog’s family for generations to burn herbs in honor of Yar. Traditionally these herbs are gathered from Dwarven territory as the herbs Yar himself sought on the day of his death. Bones: In the Yar Clan, bones are sacred as a symbol of structure, integrity and uprightness. The removal of bones as a Yar Clan punishment is a means by which the Yars communicate a lacking of these traits in the offender. Adornment: Due to the symbolic nature of bones within the clan, it is a practice among the Yars to adorn themselves with the bones of fallen enemies or of beasts slain in hunts, be it by simply hanging them from their person or by fashioning piercings thereof. They are also strongly encouraged to represent the Yar clan in battle by painting their faces and/or bodies with the clan colors: black and white. Sounding of the Horn: The Horn of Yar is an important relic in Yar culture. It is sounded at any event deemed significant enough. This can include religious gatherings, feasts, battle, or even just the birth of a new cub into the clan. The horn, as many have seen, is massive, and can be easily heard for miles outside of the capitol. See “Important Links” at the bottom of this post for links to the Yar Clan’s more interesting traditions. <<<D Law: The giving of the law, as originally told in Anthos: Malog’s head was boiling over with frustration. He needed to clear his mind. Nux’Ugluk’s decision to side with the Kaxils enraged him to no end. He decided to go out to the desert and meditate, “Purhapz da zpirutz wull gib mi guidenze,” he thought. As he sat atop a large dune, he peered down at an adolescent scaddernak scurrying over to a small cave. The beast was not fully grown yet, but was still easily big enough to kill a small group of Uruks. The cave’s entrance instantly snapped shut on the encroaching scaddernak, severing both of its pincers and three of its left legs. The creature lay helpless with half its legs gone, as a hulking mass shifted out of the sand. The sand gave way to a massive shell, and what seemed to be a cave proved to be a mouth. When the dust cleared, an enormous tortoise nearly the size of a modest gatehouse stood looming over the crippled scaddernak. The words “Duhnah skhelll” passed Malog’s lips as he watched in amazement. The duhnah skhelll lifted one of its tremendous legs, and smashed its prey. It then proceeded to swallow the scaddernak whole. Malog took this as a sign from the spirits, and hurried back to Gronkkston. He gathered his supporters from within the Ugluk clan, and told them what he saw. He then told them about his ancestor, Yar, a wise and powerful shaman. He had decided that if he couldn’t regain the Ugluk clan, he’d lead his followers away from the dangerous path down which that clan was being led. He had decided to lead them down the path of wisdom; the path of honor. He blew the great bronze horn he’d previously constructed atop the massive hill near Gronkkston, announcing the formation of the Yar clan. After blowing the horn, Malog then spoke forth the law code of the Yar Clan: ~ In order to ensure the Yar Clan did not stray from the path of honor, ten laws were set in place for the clan to uphold. ~ Do not kill your fellow orc unprovoked or outside of an agreed-upon klomp, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not consume the flesh of your fellow orc, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not steal from your fellow orc, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not free your fellow orc’s slave, nor enslave your fellow orc, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not practice the magic of the pink skin, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not disrespect your fellow orc or his property, especially an orc in authority over you. This includes challenging the Wargoth or Chieftain without legitimate reason, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not live amongst the pink skin, to dwell in their cities, nor to walk in their ways, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not speak the language of the pink skin, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not take the pink skin as your lifemate, for such is an abomination to Krug. Do not worship the gods of the pink skins, for such is an abomination to Krug. ~ Failure to comply by the laws of Clan Yar will result in the following: ~ Harrowing: Any orc who breaks a clan law but is still considered redeemable may be exiled to a dangerous land for a period of time. He may either be sent into the deserts without any food or tools, or into known enemy territory. Should the accused return alive, his crimes are completely forgiven, and he is welcomed back as a brother. Beheading: This is your average beheading. The head is then piked in a public place with a sign indicating the offender's name and whitewashed status. Heart Removal: An orc who commits a particularly heinous offence is restrained while his beating heart is cut from his chest. The heart is then piked in a public area with a sign indicating the offender's name and whitewashed status. Deboning: This punishment, due to its gruesome nature, is reserved primarily for the most repugnant crimes. The only exception to this rule is towards non-orcs, who may experience this fate merely at the whim of the clan leader. An orc, however, must commit a severe atrocity to suffer this punishment. The accused is restrained while his bones are broken and removed from his body. The bones are then piled up and burned in a desecration ceremony. >>> <<< Yar Clan Chants: Blessed of Yar Shout unto Krug, Blessed of Yar! Throughout the Uzg, Bear it far; The glorious name! Glory to Yar! His wisdom will reign! Glory to Yar! Harvest Life is toil; Life is pain. Till the soil; Wait for rain. Blood coats plow, Workers groan. Harvest now Flesh agh bone! Raise the Luzk Raise the luzk! Shout aloud! Bare latz tusks! Make Krug proud! Bodies sever From their spirits! they'll forever Dread agh fear us! Cubs’ Chant Chant to the Wargoth, leading us to glory. Chant to the Choppers, on the battlefield. Chant to the Trappers, in the burning desert. Chant to the Workers, pounding steel. We are the Yar cubs, builders of the future, Agh we the Yar cubs swear to lat; Loyal devotion! Fearless devotion! Agh to klomp until we’re flat! Chant to the faithful members of the Yar Clan. Chant to the Skhelll lethality. Chant to the Yar Clan; ever wise and mighty! Clan of wisdom agh victory! <(*)> Important Links: Shrunken Heads: Bone Trees: Bone Gavels: Bone Singing (Throat Singing): Yar Clan Runes: Yar Funerary Rites: The Horn of Yar: Story of Yar: Information on the Duhna Skhelll can be found here under “Orcish Wildlife”
  15. The same shabby little goblin gathers himself up once more, grinning toothily at the egg in the corner, resting peacefully in it's box. He nods to himself as he pats the loamy soil, ensuring that it is still a bit moist- easier for the little creature inside to get comfortable upon should it hatch in his absence. After all, hatching season is coming soon for the Drûth tortoises. Still, he pushes this thought aside as he turns to the other object of interest in the room- the large corpse of some burly human, all gutted and dessicated. The goblin is quite pleased at the lack of mess to clean up, and drags it outside by the hair. He calls out a soft goodbye to the egg, and barges out the door of his outpost. The goblin then strides to the near-center of the village, by the large bonfire. A remarkable pile of skeletons and mangy hides await him, and await their new companion- the bones that hide in the flesh-bag at his side. He dumps it upon the ground, and makes quick work of the poor sod that used to be something, be someone. It doesn't matter anymore. Be it a beggar, thief, warrior, or king, it is now reduced to chapped hide and bones nestled in dry gore. He takes no pleasure in ripping the bones out of the trespassing sod's corpse, and tosses much of the skeleton into the pile- which, upon closer inspection, seems to be made of mainly humanoid remains. One must wonder how many people cross into this village, especially with all the shrunken heads and macabre designs lying about. It's quite a bit more likely that the goblin merely claims more of the lands around, and uses that as justification- or these may even be dead soldiers whom he came into conflict with. Truly, it is impossible to know anything about them, other than that they were deemed incredibly dishonorable to warrant this treatment. This line of thought is to be pushed out of mind as he finishes his work, leaving the human-shaped sack of meat behind as he gathers up the pile of fur and bone. Throughout the day he remains hard at work, gathering up twisted logs and branches as need be, entwining them around skeletons, draping hides and furs atop of those to complete the look. By the time a few hours pass, the end result stands tall by the center of the village, proud and ready to bear the ages. Looking to his feet, he notices he still has quite a lot of material left to work with. Looking up at the sky and seeing the harshness of the midday sun, he figures he still has time enough to carry forth and construct another, towards the boundary of the village- further reasserting Yar's claim to the land. As he drags the bones and hides across the ground with intentional disrespect, he bellows out a song he found inscribed in a hut- left for the former inhabitant's children to learn, presumably, to join with their elders during celebrations or toil. "Lyfe iz toyul, Lyfe iz pain. Tyll da zoil; Wayt fur rayn. Grizh coatz plowz, Wurkerz groan. Harvuzt now Flezh agh Bone!" The macabre tune is sang with an optimistic lilt, as if being given the chance to know and speak the lyrics is some grand milestone for the little wretch. This song is looped over and over as he swiftly constructs another harrowing ornament, covered in the same furs and bones- even featuring a full skeleton upon one of it's stronger "branches". With his work done, the goblin gazes up at the starry night sky, and can only hope that the road of war out in the distant cities does not reach the clan's slice of the forest.
  16. The goblin now wanders through the village, holding two severed human heads in one hand. It appears to be some gittish Orenites, judging by their hairstyles and the complexion of their skin. He grins broadly at his prize, carrying it throughout the “goi” as though it was a trophy from a hunt. The village is once again empty with these intruders’ demise, however, and it seems as though the goblin doesn’t mind it that way. Still, he has much more important matters to attend to than merely flaunting a bloody kill- he needs to make an example of them! He wanders up to the roaring fire in the center of town, an irregularly deep pot sitting nearby. He bought it specially for just this purpose. The goblin sets the bloody heads down on the ground, the pot full of water into the flames, and stumbles over to the collection of left-behind books he calls a library. He draws one out, the cover a depiction of a grossly misshapen and desiccated corpse- perfect. This, he brings back to the roaring fire. Flipping through the book, revealed to be sets of instructions for various rituals, the goblin stops on one in particular- the long-lived yet bold practice of creating shrunken heads. A toothy grin spreads on the goblin’s face, in stark contrast to the lifelessness of the head he holds in his hands. Shrunken heads were oft made by the Yars as warnings- though what these warnings conveyed, depended largely upon whom the unfortunate soul was whomst the head originally belonged to. In this case, the goblin prepared the heads for a warning of warding- a butchered pilgrim who lost themselves in the jungle midsts, and dared to trespass on the Yar’s sacred grounds. Whilst the goblin would not claim himself a Yar, and performing a ritual he was ‘taught’, he supposes that the circumstances would allow for it- a trespass such as this could not be forgiven, it was unto the lands of the Yar, and it would be the will of the Yar that such a fool shall be made an example of. Indeed, the shrinking of a head had several meanings towards it. Firstly, the ghastly sight served as a warning to any brave enough to come across it. Secondly, it was a severe disgrace to the soul that it once belonged to- to shrink a head would remove the bones, the most sacred of structure, the desecration of a head in particular to highlight this loss was due to their foolishness or callousness. Thirdly- to give appropriate notice to their kin whom would search for the body of their brethren. It was with these goals in mind that the goblin set upon the practice. With a weary sigh, the goblin lifts the finished heads from the pot, after a full day’s work. He grins proudly at their twisted, wretched visage, and nods to himself. The goblin’s hands are covered in cuts and burns from his lack of experience, but the quality of the finished product is well worth not taking shortcuts. He quickly tacks one up to a root at the edge of town, leaving below it a note forbidding anyone from further trespass upon these sacred grounds. He carries a smiliar note, and an equally disgusting head, over to the main city of San’Velku. He slams a post into the ground, sets the head atop it, and leaves the following sign below; Satisfied with his work for the day, he marches back to the riverside village, resuming his vigil once more. He looks off to the side, seeing the shrunken head at the village's border, and grins again with pride.
  17. The one-armed goblin continues his patrols around the ancestral village of the Yars. A few friends have stopped by recently, noticing the path he carved on his way to the river-village and following it. Unfortunately, none have been whom the goblin was waiting for- any to whom this land was their birthright. He sighs as he drops himself back in his chair, staring out the window as it starts to rain. He unconsciously reclines a bit as he starts to doze off, the chair scraping against the floor and filling the hut with a sharp noise, waking him up once more. The displeasure is obvious on his face and he tosses the seat below him a scornful look- but before he can undergo a one-man war against chairs, a flash of pale color outside the window alerts him. The sky has started to crackle with lightning, bathing the swamp ground in light. He watches for a bit, until a hint of mottled grey by the riverside catches his eye- certainly something he didn’t see before on patrol. He stumbles out the door and into the storm, trekking over roots and muck as he wades through the swampy riverside. He reaches the odd shapes he saw before, and is struck with recognition and pity. A collection of eggs lie about the shoreline- each quite large, a mottled grey-green. He recognizes their distinctive pattern; Drûth Skhell eggs, the Bush Tortoise. The reason for his pitying look is obvious- the eggs lie broken and spilled, the nest ruined as it was washed up by the violent storm. His eyes widen in shock as he turns one over- not a single crack upon it. By far the smallest of the clutch, likely to birth a runt, but the only survivor of this nest. He gingerly picks it up with his single hand and cradles it against his body, before hobbling back to his hut. Once inside, he lies it down upon a box packed with sandy loam, gently burying it again. Soon will be the season that these tortoises are said to hatch in, and the goblin can only hope that this egg shall bear fruit. His lips part in a toothy grin at the irony, living in this village; he may never be a Yar, and this is no Duhnah Skhell, but he shall care for it all the same.
  18. A scrawny, one-armed goblin struggles to work his way through the snares, vines, and brush of the jungle. He casts a scornful glare towards the scorched lands behind him, now surrounding the Iron’Uzg, before spitting and hacking as he walks into a large web. He wipes the cobwebs away from the shiny white bone of his skull, and with a grunt of exertion, marches onward. Just past the webbing, he hears the sound of a gently running river. A toothy grin splits his branded and scarred face, knowing he draws closer to his destination. The goblin cuts down a row of vines, clearing a small path for him to squeeze through, cautious of the Gaja snake-vines the area is infamous for. Still, he knows it will be worth it as the crunch of leaves beneath his feet turns to packed dirt and planks. The breath is drawn from him as he strides up to a large notice board in the center of the path, overgrown with vines and fronds… but a patch lies suspiciously bare. In this space is a sign, declaring this region claimed, under ‘new ownership’ of some foreigner. The relief, the purposefulness that drove the goblin to reach this place, is soon replaced with a blind fury. He rips down this sign in anger and carves a single word into the board in its place; He stomps around towards the only hut that hasn’t been similarly covered in overgrowth- signs of recently being lived-in, albeit temporarily. The door is locked, but it poses no obstacle to the enraged urukim. With a lift of his stave and a muttering to Anyhuluz, Ilzgul of Destruction, he smashes the door open and storms inside. A fine layer of dust coats the meager belongings of the individual whom attempted to lay claim to the abandoned village- their abandoned village. He snorts in derision. Clearly, they abandoned their own claim- or, hopefully, were killed before they could ruin this sacred ancestral ground. Instead, as one of the last bearers of the Ways to which this village was meant to serve, he stumbles over to another hut. He rips down more overgrowth, and opens the door of the wall of the smallest, centralmost building- with a commanding view of what he has sworn to protect. He carves a series of runes into the wall, which would clearly describe his purpose here to any descendants of the founders of the village, knowing only they would be able to read the inscriptions. The Watching Eye, The Wall, The Sounding Voice, The Giver’s Box, and last, The Tower Shield. Without the rightful owners to defend it themselves, he shall act in their place. He will be a stalwart tower on the river village.
  19. Trials of the Boar Clan Gorkil. The oldest clan of them all. Joining the ancient clan is no easy feat. Only the ones worthy enough may join the hulking sons of Gorkil, the second born of Krug. The aspiring Gorkil has to prove to the Wargoth, the clan’s leader, that they're powerful and honorable enough to call themselves Gorkils. For this, the 3 trials of the boar were made. Only upon passing the 3 trials one can call himself a son of Gorkil. A Gorkil warrior getting ready for battle Trial of Strength A son of Gorkil is expected to be in peak physical condition at all times. The ones who wish to join the clan must show they’re strong enough to be called a Gorkil. The first part of the trial is fairly simple. It consists of various physical activities such as weight lifting and rope climbing. The second part is also rather simple. A fight against the Wargoth/Elder conducting the trial. The outcome of the fight doesn't dictate if one passes or fails the first trial, what does is the aspiring Gorkil’s ability regardless of the outcome. Trial of Leadership The aspiring son of Gorkil must show he’s capable of leading before even joining. The second trial is much more complicated than the first one. Accompanied by the elder conducting the test and or the wargoth as well as a third clan member, the aspiring Gorkil has to successfully lead a hunt of a dangerous beast. The orcs accompanying the aspiring Gorkil will follow their orders during the hunt, making leading a hunt a little bit easier for the aspiring Gorkil. Only after proving they’re capable of making quick and smart decisions while also leading a group, the aspiring son of Gorkil may advance to the last trial. A group of Gorkil warriors hunting as a part of the trial of leadership Trial of Endurance For the last trial, the aspiring Gorkil must prove their willpower and endurance to extreme physical pain. The trial consists of the aspiring Gorkil being tied upside down while the rest of the clan, some armed with whips and daggers, cut, cut and whip the aspiring gorkil until they’re at the brink of of bloodlust. While most orcs are capable of passing the trial without much work, it is still not an easy feat. The trial of Endurance also serves as an induction ceremony. After the trial is done, the Wargoth slaughters a sheep for the new son of Gorkil, letting its blood spill into a bucket. Upon returning to the clan with the bucket, the Wargoth makes his way to the new Gorkil clan member and pours all the sheep’s blood on them. Only after receiving the shower of blood one is truly conisdered a Gorkil.
  20. Âzhûrz âzûrk The First Slaughter. [!] A missive is sent by goblin messengers to all the great cities of Almaris. Elysium, weak, it's leadership corrupted, rampant with racism. The Horde of the Iron'Uzg, guided by the might of the spirits, fighting for what is right. Last cactus day, a small warband of the Horde of the Iron'Uzg, composed of 1500 orcs and 800 of their mercenaries marched to the city of Elysium, to battle against them, to clash swords against axes, shields against the big fat fist of an olog as it crashes down on you. Instead, the Horde enterred the city, the square and tavern empty, all the fighters hiding inside their keep, A surprise for the small warband who came for an honorable fight. The Horde expected better after they saw with how much haste the small warband of Elysians who sat on the walls of their own city, waiting for hours while the orcs held their yearly meeting in San'Velku. For this slaughter, the small warband had to search in every house and every corner of the city, to fight the cowards. The Horde departed, leaving hundreds of bodies behind, while none of their own was injured. Some captives where brought back to San'Velku, Leika De Astrea amongst them. For her crimes against the descendants of Krug, her hands were taken and her body cursed by Kinul, spirit of Disease. The rest of the captives were left alive, showing the mercy of Ar-Borok "The Brown" of clan Akaal, Rex of the Iron'Uzg, for the poor citizens of Elysium did not cause this war, nor did they choose it. LEADERSHIP OF ELYSIUM You brought this slaughter upon yourself, the blood of your citizens are on your hands. The siege of the Heart of racism will not end until you rid the city of these criminals. How many of your citizens will die like cattle before you realise your error? You know our terms, you know how to stop this war. Choose peace. [!] A very nice drawing of the mighty Rex is attached to the missive, two voidal mages captured at his feet. A note written under it "These left San'Velku, alive. Remember this, citizens of the cursed city."
  21. The sound of wood, beating against earth, would resound in the cave system underneath the Goi of the Iron Ugz. A beat, a rhythm, one constant and persistent as a being began his prayer, his respect to that which leads the Blood Faith. Down at the bottom, where large bones of long dead creatures adorned the walls, where the hearts of descendants rested on a alter, stood a grey skinned goblin. A large skull of a Morko Bear, covered his visage, as crimson eyes rested upon the alter. To his left, resided a basin of thick crimson blood, the liquid viscous and reeking of the heavy stench of iron. To his right however, resided an urn of warm sand. The grains still radiating the heat of the dry and hot sun, as the dim torchlight caused the grains to radiate with an almost crystalline light. A deep and guttural growl, one akin to more of a beast then sentient being, escaping dry lips as the Grizh Whisperer spoke to the emptiness. "Grizh, Grizh bindz uz, Grizh tiez uz, but mozt importantly, Grizh ztartz from within uz. Zince da ztart of our lives, Grizh haz bound uz, tu our bruddahs and ziztahs. Tu our clans and ancestors. Tu even our enemies and foes. Grizh, bindz uz all. It tiez uz, tu our ztoriez, tu our path, tu da whay" The goblin would slowly lower himself, picking up the urn of sand, hefting it up with relative ease before he looked down towards the ground. Slowly, he tilted the clay urn, letting the grains of white sand spill from it's top as moved about. His steps matching the rhythmic beat of his heartbeat, as he poured the grains into a shape. Several small shapeless lines, extended out in five directions outwards. Yet as he walked, as his clawed and bare feet danced. He did not pass through a line, did not smudge, for every line it seemed eventually met another line which led to another line being connected. Until each and every line, formed into a large circle near the steps of the stone stairs. "Zand, it iz what guided our ztepz in the beginning. It iz what binded our grizh, for our azht proper grizh waz zpilled in da dunez. Our ahzt bond waz da dunez. Zand iz da veniz, dat not only bindz our grizh, but bindz uz further tu our Ancestor Krug." The goblin would slowly set the urn in the center of the shape, nestling it as it's centerpiece, before he slowly picked up the urn of blood. In holding it, his steps would change, his heart racing and thus the tempo of whatever this prayer was, increasing. Blood flowed out in sprays, like an artist flicking paint from a brush, he created this representation. This symbol of Throqugrizh, and when he was finished and the urn was dropped, it would reveal a bloody handprint upon the ground. Further viewing, revealed the once white sand lines, acting as the veins that tied together the bond that connected the fingers to the hand. "Together, with grizh and zand, whi find da whay. For da zandz are da veins of our Anceztor Krug, that flow throughout diz world, and da grizh. OUR GRIZH, iz what fill da veinz. Mi blahz diz, becauze in da end, grizh bindz uz all tu Throqugrizh. For without da veinz, da grizh cannot flow tu da heartbeat, which guidez our ztepz. Juzt az how without grizh, our veinz remain empty, making our bodiez unable tu move tu da rhythm." The goblin would slowly extend his hands out, sharpened claws digging into scarred palms, to draw forth blood as he danced in rhythm. The rhythm of his heartbeat, and blood, as flicked bloodied palms onto the hand. Soon the rhythm of his heart would increase, doing so caused the goblin to pick up his staff, shaking and waving the charms as he chanted over and over the mantra he had learned all those times ago. "Grizh tu flow, and Grizh tu Bond "
  22. A leather-bound tome lies unattended. The pages are stark and clean, suggesting a recent publishing, or attempts at preservation. You pick it up, curious at the title- what are Long Pigs? The answer is likely not what you hoped. To Cook a Longpig Authored by Barbog, Grubgoth of the Iron’Uzg Translated by the Orcish Cultural Revival And Purity project (OCRAP) For too long, brothers and sisters of the Uruk-hai have been left in the dark by the master butchers and Grubgoths of Uruk society. Perhaps these were never meant to be left secret, or forgotten by the masses, but as times and traditions change, so too has our knowledge of the past. Whilst many brothers may still seek out and butcher the longpig like in days past, there is a distinct lack of etiquette about it, and the dishes prepared (if they can even be called such) featuring longpig are woefully inadequate at best, and a slap in the face of Glutros at worst. I shall do my part in redeeming my misguided brothers, sisters, and any who fancy a decent meal of the most coveted meat. TO BUTCHER A LONGPIG As we all know, there are many types of longpig in the world. From the gamey, lean cutlets of the Mali, to the chewy gristle notable in Dweddish meat. Each variety of longpig brings unique textures and exotic tastes to any dish, but all maintain similar anatomy- and thus, similar cuts. Below is a detailed sketch, drafted by a close friend and confidant- whom I paid in meals, of course! The following parts have been carefully labelled and separated on the drawing; Head, ears, jowl, snout, neck, blades, shoulders, hock, back-fat, arms, hands, ribs, flank, belly, loin, rump, lower hock, leg, shank, and feet. Please take careful note of abnormal, non-descendent races. As one might expect, the belching Wonk or the limber Hou-Zi will undoubtedly be cut differently, as their anatomy grows further from traditional longpig cuts. The Musin shan’t be more than a snack. TO MAKE A MEAL OF LONGPIG Whilst cooking the meat itself is none too dissimilar from a hock of lamb or pig belly, one must be careful when selecting your sides! Longpig has a very distinct tone, and, due to its exotic nature, should not be wasted on unfitting dishes. My personal recommendations are as follows: HUMAN - As time-tested-and-true as beef or pig itself. While certainly a cut above livestock, if not just for the hunt involved in procuring this meat, I personally feel that you have better options. Truly, Longpig is meant to be a rare delicacy, and the abundance of humans leave this rather paradoxical- and the tastes and textures themselves are certainly nothing to write home about. If you were to create a barbaric or uncultured dish, then human meat suits perfectly. Burgers and bacon, perhaps, but leave serving longpig before a king to the Mali or Kha. ELF - As much as they may protest when alive, when you get down to the fundamentals- the flesh itself- they’re really all quite similar. Indeed, the tender, gamey, supple meat of the Mali are among my favorite dishes. I cannot speak highly enough of the feasts I have turned the odd botanist or researcher into. Perhaps it is their natural femininity, or their inclination to bookish things, but elves have an unrivaled, juicy tenderness. The finest of red wines, and the most expensive, outlandish sides could never be enough to compete with the meat itself- but perhaps they may make it better by comparison. DWARF - As the stout, tough race toils hard in their mines and are born with muscles taut as stone, so too is this reflected in their meat. If you wish to cook evenly and deeply with this longpig (or shall we call them shortpig?) , then a good tenderizer and elbow grease is required. I can assure you, though, that they make a most excellent brisket if you do, and there is no better iteration of pulled longpig meat, than that painstakingly torn from the Dwed. HALFLING - While it wounds me as a friend of the Weefolk to have to record an entry that may be mistaken as encouraging their slaughter, I only do so in the highest regard as an objective chef. They are, as one may expect, quite similar to the flesh of the human that some allege they originate from. They have more ‘earthy’ notes to them, which some have suggested come from the divergence of ancestry. This pairs well with heady beers and hard liquors. Should you come across the meat of the half-men, I can only suggest one thing; avoid the feet. They are tough, covered in calluses many, many layers deep, and unlike shucking a clam, does not reward you with good grub. WONK - Their anatomy is, quite simply, repulsive to most casual consumers. Even the meat itself is slick and slimy, and the only cure is to char it into a brick- a cardinal sin that no true cook should ever commit. You have two options when it comes to the Wonk as longpig. You may either attempt to recreate certain seafood dishes with Wonk meat, leveraging that sliminess as one might the slippery raw squid, or slick watery vegetables. This, in my opinion, is the best choice for most of the Wonk’s body… except for their hock, leg, and shank. These are fatty and have a texture somewhere between soft fish and poultry. Best when sauteed and stewed! Fun fact: Wonk legs do not stiffen up as fast as most animals upon their demise, and may even twitch when heated up in cooking! HOU-ZI - An odd choice- and I say that proceeding the Wonk! Whilst there are similarities between the Hou-Zi, and races such as halflings and humans, they are an entirely different beast- No offense to Hou-Zi intended! Truly, they ought not be hunted for their meat, as it is rather bland and chewy in the most unpalatable way. Instead, the true delicacy of the Hou-Zi is in the mind… And I say that in the most physical sense. Chilled Hou-Zi brains. Do not question it, merely enjoy it. KHA - Whilst Kha are very few and far between these days, I would argue that only makes the already-exotic taste of the meat feel only that much more so! Truly, in days where Kha would roam our borders in droves, were days where the Ilzgûl blessed our civilizations. There is something so… utterly indescribably, in the juices of Kha meat. I cannot stress this enough- this meat NEEDS to be served rare, if not raw. Any dangers of undercooked meat are well worth the suffering when beer-basted Kha precedes it. MUSIN - Musin themselves have little meat, and are best served as a side of their own. However, should you find yourself with many little mouse-meals, you may find that they are best incorporated as half-dish. Meals such as a mushroom-and-musin kebab, or a chunky stew, would be a wonderful use for these little snacks. SEZZIKBEKK - While their bodies are quite unappealing at first glance, they hold much meat in their more ‘avian’ parts- the thighs, breast, and (on some specimens with less-twisted appendages), wing-meat. Whilst these may be used as a replacement for more common fowl, such as chicken or partridge, they truly shine when deep-fried. Indeed, while I find few things more delicious in this world than Krugtucky Fried Chicken, I have found their equal in Fried Sezzikbekk. TO PLATE A LONGPIG This will, of course, vary by the meat itself, and how you cook it. Humans, halflings, dwarves, and the like will be suitable as plain affairs- one would not be remiss to see human sliders on a plain ceramic tray, and for good reason. For more ‘exotic’ meats, then rest assured, I recommend firmly to play this up in their presentation. Sauteed wonk with a smooth Teriyaki sauce, Musin kebabs wrapped in palm leaves with carefully-threaded skewers connecting the cutlets, and Deep-Fried Sezzibekk stacked like a tower, with garlic powder and shredded kaktuz sprinkled from high above. All of these are presentations I have seen with my own eyes, and they never cease to entertain and enthrall even the most well-fed of critics. Go with your intuition here, but I must repeat from earlier; do not waste your longpig. The taking of a life is much more special here- a cow or chicken are penned and dumb, and the act of bringing one to your table is of absolutely no note. The battle that wins you a prime dish-to-be of longpig, however, means that the meat itself deserves a higher level of respect. Perhaps you may attempt to recreate aspects of that very battle in your plating, but at the very least it makes an entertaining story to share. AFTERWORD Whilst my advocacy for the consumption and proper preparation of longpig cannot be understated, I do not intend for this book to inspire my brothers and sisters to become butchers for the sake of sport. It is the very act of a well-fought battle that makes the meat taste that much more succulent, the comedy of serving a belly cut deep by your friend’s arrow, that is to truly ‘make the meal’. To turn them into common chattel is right-out. Livestock has grown complacent, boring, and dare I say, a turn-off to many chefs. Respect the intent behind serving longpig, by not abusing the source the Ilzgûl have so generously provided. They are the sustenance after a battle, not some simpering beast to be penned and bred for grub alone. But, above all else; Cook well, my friends. -Barbog
  23. POSTERS HANG AROUND THE WORLD OF ALMARIS The papers would read; JOIN TODAY! The Gold Bulls (Golden Bulls of Mortemgarde) Follow the teachings of Yemekar, and Aelif. The true high gods of Almaris! Fight like a true warrior and make your way into the eyes of the gods. Reject Modernity and make the North, great once again. Follow Hyperborea and Ancient Northmen ways! Help us spread the word through sacrifice, change and adventure. 555 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------============================---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Erik also known as, Erik Wit'an'axe The Future king of the great North Applications: Discord: ING (In-game name):
  24. Frenrir Ireheart, a new fresh 31 year old dwarf, with a lot of adventure, in just one irl day. Frenrir is a new dwarf. He was born into the Irehearts and finally decided to do his trials and start his journey. He begun with going to Du Loc, as he heard his fellow bretheren were there. But at his surprise, a dragon was there. Frenrir with the dragon slaying clan in his blood, began to get furious that the Du Loc Guard would not let him in. Instead, a large ugly Oolog stood in his way and kept the gate shut, while calling him gay. Frenrir began to be furious, and asked two people behind him to go on a plan, however they did not follow up on it, and he got even more enranged, to the point that he got ready, thumped the ground and rushed towards the gates with his baldspot first. He hit the gate, making a loud clang but the gate did not leave a dent, and he was sent backwards and landed on his back. This however did not stop Frenrir, he continued to harass the dragon with words and bang on the gate. Eventually the dragon left and this made Frenrir rage in anger and leave, cursing Du Loc for not letting him in. Frenrir rode into the sun, and towards his home Urguan. Upon arrival, he was greeted by Garrond 'Orcbane' Frostbeard. They had a little convo, and it led to the topic of Bravery. Garrond challenged Frenrir to a test of Bravery where Frenrir was stand onto a wall, and Garrond was to throw an axe over his head, you were not allowed to flinch or duck, or you would lose the game. Garrond threw the axe, and Frenrir swallowed fear whole, and did not flinch. The axe went right over his head and he was safe and sound. The game attracted some folk, including another Ireheart. They all had turns, and eventually it came to someone else throwing the axe. Frenrir volunteered, and as he threw the axe, it was starting to fly towards Garrond, which made him duck, losing the game. Garrond called for another try and as he did, Frenrir threw an axe, which cut into Garronds head a little, but Garrond did not duck, nor flinch during the throw. As Frenrir thought it was fair for him to go up next, because of him hurting Garrond, The other Ireheart volunteered to throw. The Ireheart stepped back and gave the axe a good throw, it would hurl towards Frenrir, and knowingly it would be to low, Frenrir called for the gods as it his into his ear, splitting it almost full in half. Frenrir gave a good laugh and put a cloth around it, allowing it to be healed overtime. After a while of chilling in Urguan, another Ireheart came by, they talked about each others trials, which gave Frenrir the idea to go for them, along with the other Ireheart beardling. Garrond came along as they decided to go towards Krugmar. However, no one would open the gate, and they left. After a lot of chilling around Urguan, Frenrir decided to pay a visit to Elysium. Upon arrival, he was greeted with a large gate, after a while of shouting for someone to get it, a woman in large white armor came by, she called for Frenrir and asked him a couple of questions, which Frenrir answered with no hesitation. Then she called upon him to leave his weapons in a nearby chest. Frenrir, hesitant and cautious tried to negotiate, however it went nowhere, to the point a drunkard was having fun of the conversation. As the conversation lead on, and the persuasion was going nowhere, 3 unusual people came by, they said they came from "Yong Pink" apparently the town was called something else, and there was an argument about it, but the group was in red unusual armor, they were let in and left their weapons in the chest. Frenrir had a lot of insults at them and they threw insults back, there was many arguments, but eventually they all decided to get a drink. Finding no bartender and no one to pass them drinks, they just talked at the tavern, until more guards came along. After Frenrir shouted towards them, they came to Frenrir and the group of strange people. They called upon 2 of them. However, the two did not want to go and it turned into an argument. Frenrir was watching from the sidelines, when a woman came in and started giving out drinks. Frenrir won a bet against one of the strange men and got a free drink, which he slowly drank and slowly begun to get somewhat drunk. Frenrir flirted with a dark elf, which eventually slapped his face, and continued to flirt with him after. Everything eventually died down, and the strange group of people left, after dabbing Frenrir up. Frenrir followed and they left the gates of Elysium before, Frenrir noticed an Orc at the gates. He was a large Orc with red skin. And Frenrir challenged him to a duel. Frenrir and the Orc had a negotiation, and an argument about what happens when the other loses. It went from giving each other their balls, to giving each other their tusk, beard, skin, and eventually the Orc asked Frenrir to follow him. They went to the side of the walls and the Orc asked the elf for a knife. The elf passed him a knife and Frenrir knew what was coming. The Orc would give him the skin he wished for. Frenrir called him out and asked him not to but the Orc had lifted a middle finger at him, and then sliced it off. The finger would fall onto the ground and Frenrir, expecting this to happen, slice off his ear that was injured previously. As it fell, he held it, and the 2 complimented each other for being so tough. The Orc healed the dwarf with shaman magic, and then begun the duel. Both sides fought bravely and full of strength, but the Orc was the one who fell at the end. The Orc called it a good fight and so did the dwarf as he picked him up. They both dabbed up, and gave each other their 'sacrifices.' The Orc kept the ear and Frenrir kept the finger for his trials. Frenrir left Elysium happy that day, he met new friends, flirted and won a duel. just something fun to write about, im bored idk lol
  25. IZIG ANCESTRAL SMITHING ' An Izig smith restoring a weapon Bound in blood and rubble, the histories of orc oft go untold, less it be carried by verbal word or laid into story by Haruspex. The tales of orcish people rarely leave their desert homelands. The process of Ancestral smithing however has been - with the assimilation of Clan Izig, a more common sight amongst the uruk giving way to an influx of historical recollection. Ancestral smithing is used by smiths who seek to maintain their kin’s name, be it clan or bloodline.This is through the maintenance of things like hilts and pommels, guards and decor that once jotted a legendary zult, or orcish sword. Using these restored pieces is believed to carry the blessing of the ancestors who wielded it before them, bringing a Krughai warrior strength in battle, a hunter’s focus in the forest, or guiding a chef’s hand in the kitchen. RESTORATION An ancient Haruspex's mask. The restoration of old weapons is essential in an Izig’s repertoire. Even those who are not smiths are still taught to respect and revere the tools they use, for they bear the mark of the urukim who birthed it. Their essence is passed on in the tools they create, and allows for an Izig, or Ancestralist to physically pass on their wisdom and strength to future generations. As such, totems, carvings and observational trinkets are made so that the Ancestral Spirits can watch over the home or crafting place. They ward the place from spirits of negativity, mental instability, and the negative traits brought on by Krug’s Curse. Bloodlines of Izig often use this restoration to their founders, whether physically reendowing and utilizing these tools, or enshrining and consecrating them as powerful relics for centuries to come. To consecrate the relic, the Haruspex or smith burns incense and ingests cactus green whilst partaking in ceremonial rites to go along with the forging process, blessing the molten metals with the names of glorious smiths, channeling his ancestors before fitting on a guard, ensuring the presence of said ancestors during the making of the item.
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