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KRUGISTAN CONVENT OF SHAMANS ♪♫♪ NONOBLIGATORY MUSIC BY REX SKÂLVOR’S HAND 215 S.A ______________________________________________________________________________ PREAMBLE Skâlvor has seen the taint of the Immortals upon his people long before his first shaman-meet. Now, he equally recognises the inherent distrust of the TWIGGIE-SHAMAN to be willing to come to Krug. All the same, know this: The faith of Spiritualism, that is the worship of the Spirits through communion with Shamans, is UTTER HOGWAZH. We have seen time and time again, the greed of the Immortals, and that they do not value our worship anymore than they value the lack of worship. The Immortals divide. Where one Shaman, who may be a worshipper of the Spirit of Disease, KINUL may worship and build shrines to his spirit, another Shaman, who may be a worshipper of the Spirit of Health, AKEZO, will look at this Shaman, and call him stupid, and misguided. This cannot do. This is a divisive factor of our faith. There is no unifying code for what little faith we have other than the code of Krug, which itself has become diluted, and shifted again, and again, and again. Know that the code of Krug, which has been changed by every Rex ever, it so seems, will be codified as this under SKÂLVOR, and know that this is the code that this called Convent of Shamans should heed as KRUG’S, and thus by extension, the STARGUSH’STROH’s as a whole: TO BE HONORABLE TO HATE AND PURGE IBLEES TO LOVE AND RESPECT KRUG Beyond this, I know many shaman, and any of those who have heard Skâlvor, who have read of Skâlvor’s praise to Mauloch, will call him misguided. All the same, Skâlvor will be no heretic. Let Mauloch be discussed, and his divinity as SPIRIT-REX, as UNIFIER of KRUG and MALCH be evaluated, independently of the Rex, by this council of shamans. ______________________________________________________________________________ THE CONVENT LET ALL SHAMANS, regardless of RACE, AFFILIATION, WORSHIP, OTHER MAGICKS, CRIMES, and STATUS, be invited to Krugistan, and granted safe passage by this hand, Skâlvor, Rex of Krugistan. LET ALL SHAMANS convene within the desert’s peak, nearest to the ZPIRITS. LET ALL SHAMANS engage, OBLIGATOtRILY, with the practice of consuming CACTUS GREEN, so that nearness to the Stargush’Stroh can be achieved. LET ALL SHAMANS consent, to not leave the desert’s peak until A CODIFIED WILL OF THE STARGUSH’STROH is WRITTEN, TRANSCRIBED, and REPRODUCIBLE. LET ALL SHAMANS who leave before such code is created be executed. LET ALL SHAMANS who reject this invitation without proper reasoning be executed as apostate, and forsaker of the Stargush’STROH. LET ALL WORSHIPPERS OF THE STARGUSH’STROH attend, to give their opinion, and knowledge, but not vote. Arrive, shamans of all ilk, or know that the Horde will hunt you to the end of your days, and that to wander the Badlands will mean nothing but death. SIGNED, SKÂLVOR REX OF KRUGISTAN, WAGHTINKA OF THE THAUG’MAUGRIM

DUNE WARDEN THE GREAT BURNING Dune Wardens, followers of the Grand Spirits Ramakhet and Aztran, are devoted protectors of the Desert. They wander the sands, calling upon their myriad of blessings to cleanse the sands of impurities. Dune Wardens will rarely attack each other, unless one deems the other a traitor to the sands. When out of the sands, they feel a slight pull beckoning them towards the wastes. These devoted followers must learn Old Blah, so that they may call out to Aztran to bless them. To achive this, the being will devote their mind and body to the desert in a ritual called The Great Burning. Requiring one other Dune Warden to guide their meditation, a being may allow Aztran to bless their skin, covering their entire body in a terrible, festering sunburn. This sunburn must not be allowed to heal, should it the connection would be severed, leaving the Dune Warden mundane until they cleanse themself once more in the desert. This process will be lead through a meditation in the glaring sun, at high noon and the leading Dune Warden must have a valid [TA] Redlines: Teachers must have a valid [TA] The Tier 1 Warden must emote their body being burned all over, a very painful process that leaves their body festering with cracks and burns. Should they let this heal, their blessings would be warranted mundane, unable to cast. This will have no detriment in CRP however it must be emoted in normal encounters. Dune Wardens do not under any circumstance know Ramakhet's name, and only receive his blessings through Aztran's name. The magic system that Dune Wardens rely on is called Flares. During the day cycle (Sunrise to Sunset) the Warden has a certain amount they can spend. However, they may go 50% over this line, leading to horrific burns on their bodies. They are able to cast one more spell after that, however it would result in a PK, with their skull being set ablaze from the inside. See more in the Tiers section T5 Dune Wardens are able to Spirit Walk, however only with Aztran. However, with a Shaman present, they may follow along to the domain of other Spirits Dune Wardens are able to understand and speak Old Blah, needing it for a large majority of their spells. However one must study Old Blah with a teacher or spend multiple months studying it for themselves IRP. It is a very challenging language, so emote accordingly Takes two magic slots Tier List Dune Wardens time is often spent meditating, aimlessly wandering around the desert, praying to Aztran, mumbling chants and swinging around religious items. Rarley, the most zealot of them will be covered in prayer beads, veils, masks, armors, and other items of prayer. Flares are the currency that allows Dune Wardens to call upon the Desert Spirits, limiting how much they can summon a day. Each day cycle, they have a limited amount. Resetting at Sunrise every day, this allows for Dune Wardens to recharge themselfs. However, daily the Dune Wardens may go 50% over their set limit, causing horrid burns to their bodies. Am example would be a T4 Dune Warden normally has 100 Flare, however he can cast 150, causing horrid 2nd to 3rd degree burns all across his body. Anything past this can be cast once, however it would result in a horrible death. A terrible flame would burst into action in the middle of their skull, hollowing out their head and sending flames licking from their eye sockets, nose, and mouth. This is a Hard PK, should you choose to go over. Tier 1 - Student These are students who have completed The Great Burning, allowing themselves to follow Aztran. Only beginning their journey, they have a very basic understanding of the rhythms of the desert, thus limiting their ability to call upon blessings. Students posses 10 available Flares per day Lasts 1 OOC week Tier 2 - Wandering Wisp Wandering Wisps are Dune Wardens who have studied the desert, slowly acclimating to the sands. Now understanding their ability further, they have a wider array of abilities available to them. Wandering Wisps posses 25 available Flares per day Lasts 1 OOC week Tier 3 - Burned Bauer Burned Bauer's are on their way to Mastery. They have begun seeing the patterns in the sands, and adjusting to the new heat, far more perceptive than before. Burned Bauers posses 50 available Flares per day Lasts 1 OOC week Tier 4 - Follower of Aztran Followers of Aztran have almost Mastered the waving and waning of the sands. They are starting to figure out the desert secrets, whispers of old being carried in the wind. Followers of Aztran posse 100 available Flares per day Lasts 2 OOC weeks Tier 5 - Zealot of Sand These beings have Mastered the Desert, surviving in the harsh wasteland and serving in Aztrans will. These beings have fought great desert beasts, brought honor to the Spirits names, learned to dance with the Deserts rhythm, and heard it's voice. Zealots of Sand posses 150 available Flares per day Final Tier, can submit for a [TA] Whilst in the Desert, their footsteps are muffled, requiring one extra emote to notice the sound CASTS These casts are broken down into 5 different Tiers, allowing a person to roleplay their character learning the ways of the desert. N = Non-Combative C = Combative N + C = Both Tier 1 Casts Mirage [ N + C ] A Dune Warden may call down the eye of Aztran, for three emotes may show an area, object, or person in the distance. This projection would only be able to be seen by anyone targeted, invisible to all who were not hit. The Illusion may not get within 5 blocks, before it begins waving and dissipates. Whilst mostly free form, the caster may not show scenes that of which they have not witnessed themselves, or heard stories of. Redlines: - Takes 2 flares for each person, the mirage would last 3 emotes - Any being without blood or sight would be unaffected, just feeling a little warm - Can be used in CRP, however it will never directly harm a combatant - Takes two emotes to cast - Effected people would begin sweating profusely, feeling extremely hot - Can only be casted Sunrise to Sundown - Requires Old Blah incantation Glare [ C ] The caster can temporarily blind a combatant, the glare of the sun shining from any available surface, including the beings own weapon. This flash would be directly into the attackers eyes, causing them to be stunned for 1 emote. This can also be used for aesthetic purposes, allowing the sun to passively shine off of the casters eyes, with lesser force. Redlines: - Takes 2 emotes to cast, if interrupted the caster if stunned for 1 emote - When casted, the target is blinded for 1 emote [Excludes anything without eyes or blind, but should it have ANY way to see, it would be effective. This includes Aniimi and robots that can see] - Can only effect one target, before having to prepare the to cast again - Should the emote be interrupted, the caster would be stunned for 1 emote - Can only be casted Sunrise to Sundown - Takes 5 Flares to cast - Requires Old Blah incantation Dancing Sands [ N ] The Dune Warden may bring the available art of the desert, Dancing Sands. Should they have a bottle of sand, they could pour it onto the ground, focusing, making the sand dances around in shapes. These can be scenes of people fighting, descriptions of faces, or topographical maps. The purpose of this spell is to allow the Dune Wardens to tell history and stories in a physical sense. Redlines: - Can never be used for anything CRP related, unless OOC consent is given from everyone in the encounter - Can animate piles no bigger than that with the height of a small dog - Takes no Flares to cast - Should the caster take his focus off of the scene, it would all fall into a pile of inanimate sand - Must have a physical object in their inventory representing the sand, unless there is a sand block within 6 blocks that they may pull from Tier 2 Casts Scalding Sands [ C ] A sand caster with enough practice can manipulate small handfuls of the grainy resource in a combative manner. Using the glare of the sun, they heat the sand up to a scalding temperature, before sending it flying towards the chosen target. On contact, it would cause 2nd degree burns. Whilst it can be casted from a bottle of sand, you could only cast it once with the amount in any one flask. The movement of the sand would not be the caster throwing it, but an unforeseen wind carrying it in a stinging swarm towards the target. Redlines: - Costs 5 Flare - Can hit beings in a 3 block horizontal line, with a range of 4 blocks. However it can concentrated to a smaller stream to travel farther, with a horizontal of 1 block, but a range of 8 blocks. - Takes 2 emotes, one for the heating of the sands and the other for the moving of the swarm - Requires Old Blah incantation -Can only be casted between Sunrise and Sundown Tier 3 Casts Heat Exhaustion [ C ] The caster can summon the gaze of the sun onto a maximum of 3 targets. This would cause them to feel the full effects of the desert sun, causing great thirst and terrible exhaustion. On these chosen targets, it would seem as if the sunlight was brighter. Redlines: - Takes 15 Flare to cast - 3 targets maximum, 1 target minimum - Movements are halved for 2 emotes ( Horses reduced to 6 blocks, Sprinting reduced to 4 blocks, attacking reduced to 2 blocks ) - Can be used 2 times per encounter - Takes 3 emotes - If interrupted caster is stunned for 1 emote - Can only be casted between Sunrise and Sundown - Requires Old Blah Incantation Chameleon [ N + C ] After surviving in the desert for so long, the Dune Warden begins to notice the patterns in the sands, enabling himself to camouflage among the dunes. Pulling sand over oneself, they could go practically invisible to the naked eye. Redlines: - No flame cost - Last indefinitely as long as the caster does not move - Takes 1 emote to cast - Takes the normal eye 3 emotes to spot the caster -Heat signature will not reveal them, however their Mana (should they have any) may - Can be casted at night - Can only be casted in the desert, onto of sand blocks Tier 4 Casts Sand Spike [ C ] A caster that stands in the desert day call upon the strife of the desert, pulling forth jagged, sharp obelisks from the dunes. Ranging from 3-6 feet long, these desert spikes come out with enough force to stab through chainmail armor. Redlines: - Costs 15 Flare - Target must be within 10 blocks and must be standing within 2 blocks from a sand block -Spike will remain the entire encounter unless smashed, requiring 2 hits from any weapon and 1 hit from Boomsteel or Earthruned weaponry - Takes 3 emotes to cast - If caster is interrupted they will be stunned for 1 emote - Caster must be standing in the desert - Requires Old Blah Incantation Sandstorm [ N + C ] Able to be summoned once per encounter, when two or more Dune Wardens gather, they may call forth a storm of sand. This would effect all beings present, for the entire encounter. It greatly reduces vision and mobility. Redlines: - Costs 50 Flare - Should casting be interrupted, casters would suffer 1st degree burns to their faces - 5 emotes to cast - Requires two casters, if 3 join it is 3 emotes, if 4 casters join it is 2 emotes. The maximum of this is 4, capping at 2 emotes - Horses are reduced to 6 blocks, Sprinting is reduced to 4 blocks, attacking is reduced to 2 blocks - Characters may only see 3 blocks ahead of them - When casted, any spell that requires sunlight will cease to work for the rest of the encounter - Must be cast in the desert -Requires Old Blah incantation Tier 5 Casts Swallowing Sands [ N + C ] Twice during an encounter, the caster may call upon a sand lurking Swallower to crack open the ground, devouring a 5x5 area. The sand would bubble, the Dune Wardens dance was answered. Sand would fall into the toothy void, before slamming shut, sand falling back into place. This is a special dance, taught only by the Greatest, most knowledgeable Zealots. Redlines: - CANNOT be used without the victims OOC consent, usually used as a fancy death or to add to an rp encounter - Can be used twice during an encounter - Takes 3 emotes as a lone caster, 2 with extra casters helping - Once the victim is swallowed, their gear is spit back up through the sand - Takes 50 Flare - In [ST] events, it is up to the [ST] if this can be used - This call is to add to an encounter, not take away from it, use it as such - Requires that the dance is taught from a [TA] with the IRP knowledge of the dance - Characters who can summon this Swallower know IRP what it looks like, but can never describe it, only as a spiked monstrosity - Can only be summoned in the desert Purpose I consistently play this sever, and for the longest time I have been hoping that the Desert would have a way to breath life back into it. I truly believe that bringing a specialized magic that aims to bring activity to a certain region could greatly benefit this. I think that sand magic is greatly unutilized that I hope to change that with this [Magic Lore] post. Credits Vazeh BigBlu_42 Citations

To Cleanse A Heart Upon a flowering field, o' the Sun did rise The gentle grace of light's pure tides Did still offer woe. Beyond the woe, a heart did feel Upon a ridgeline, the sky still teal But was it all there was? Severance And so did the Shaman walk, finding that field of clouds he was ever so fond of. The realm of his first pact laid before him. The Spirit of the land, lesser to Aztran, stood proud. "I know why you have come," Decreed the Lesser, "Are you certain?" "Never," replied the Shaman, "But, when one door opens—" "Another must close." they say in unison. And so did the Shaman revoke his tenets to Aztran, bringer of light and shepherd of stars. Connection Once it was done, t'was time to walk again. Moving forward to the realm of Akezo. Though the relationship between the Shaman and this Lesser was strained, after years of sour apples being brought, he had to try. Instead, what was done was spectacular. Upon walking: a new plane, from a new Lesser, found after being forgotten. A shame that it was forgotten. A blessing it shall be remembered. Upon finding the Spirit, the Shaman extended his hand forward... and dim light was established in the realm. A new connection birthed a new pact to replace the old. "Life, shaman. Protect life, safeguard it, hold it true. Bring me, K'Tiri, lesser to Akezo, champions." "It shall be so."

[!] An artist's sketch of the restored statue of Ra'tuhmet within the Temple of Ra [!] The Restoration of The Light Penned by The Prince-Consort of Rah’tuma, 187 S.A. [!] A missive would find itself posted on the roads and within the cities of Western, Eastern, and Southern Aevos [!] ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Leh-iy, my people of Rah’tuma and the wider continent of Braevos! I write this missive to humbly announce that the statue dedicated to LORD RA’TUHMET OF ETERNAL SUNLIGHT has been fully restored to its completion! My labors have cost me one Rah’mun Year of my life, but it is worth the cost to see LORD RA’S TRUE Light return upon our world after decades the False Sun corrupted the heavens above. My fellow Netjer and I wish to hold a festival in honor of LORD RA’TUHMET’s brilliant return to the Material Plane! In which I bring upon the continuation of recruitment into the Netjer of RA’TUHMET for if we are to return the TRUE LIGHT upon the world again, I must bring numerous more faithful under my wing in order to do so. With this, I welcome those who seek festivities and the opportunity of faithful adherence to our walls of Rah’tuma! With Balance Restored, Haitham By the Grace of the Gods, Prince-Consort of Rah’tuma, Ahurhemtepi Netjer of Ra’tuhmet, Son of the Light

A Call from the Light Penned by The Prince of Rah'tuma, 186 S.A. [!] A missive would find itself posted on the roads and within the cities of Western, Eastern and Southern Aevos [!] Leh-iy, my people of Rah’tuma and the wider continent of Braevos! I write this missive to call to those that wish to embody the Light of our highest God of Rah’tuma, LORD RA’TUHMET OF ETERNAL SUNLIGHT, who created by the KA’TAU, created the very world in which we walk upon during our day-to-day lives. For the past Rah’mun Days, I have labored tirelessly in the restoration of LORD RA’s shrine for it laid shattered by an unknown defiler.. but that is no longer the case for it as the days go by, the closer his shrine is to being completely restored! As LORD RA’TUHMET’S Ahurhemtepi Netjer, I call for those that wish to be champions, to become WARRIORS OF THE LIGHT to come forth to Rah’tuma and to the sunlit steps of the Temple of Ra to commit to yourself to toward the goal of purging the world of Isfetian influence with the HEKA of the TRUE and ETERNAL SUNLIGHT of LORD RA’TUHMET! For now I await those that wish to become my fellow Netjer within the priesthood of RA’TUHMET. With Balance Restored, Haitham By the Grace of the Gods, Prince of Rah’tuma, Ahurhemtepi Netjer of Ra’tuhmet, Son of the Light

The Spirits - Grand List For a long time have we used an existing list of spirits that gave little depth and but a short description about the spirit. This updated and more elaborate list is meant to bring more depth to shaman roleplay and define the outlines of spirits more. Furthermore I took the effort of linking some concept art and find you a basic representation of the spirit. Note that this is the spirits base form and at all times they can appear as their avatar form if they desire. Every spirit has 3 markers. These indicate the following: [Known by Many/Few/None] This indicates the availability of knowledge on this spirit. Many means one may know of the spirits existence without roleplay. Few means that only Shamans / Ex-Shamans or those that obtained knowledge on this spirit in roleplay know of the spirit and None implies that one can only know about this spirit through roleplay. [Commonly Praised/Taboo] This indicates how the spirit is looked at. Taboo means that one would rather not speak of them or exclaim enthousiasm in them, where commonly praised spirits make up names that occur in ones daily life. [Alignment: Neutral/Dark] The alignment of the spirit dictates its behaviour. Mostly if they are ill mannered, disrespectful or otherwise mischievous, or the contrary. Greater Elementals ‘The Known’ are the only great elemental spirits known of in character and the only ones that can be contacted/used. Existence of the others is yet to be proven or shall remain forever secret. The Elemental spirits govern over all that is material in the Realm. The Known Skathach - Spirit of Fire, depicted as a burning wolf [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Akathro - Spirit of Water, depicted as a half woman half fish [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Bregthar - Spirit of Earth, depicted as an aged stone behemoth [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Fiarza - Spirit of Air, depicted as an agile woman adorned in feathers, able to shift shape into any flying animal. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Kulthark - Spirit of Metal, depicted as a hollow suit of armor that can shift shape into a variety of forms. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Neizdark - Spirit of Storm, depicted as a mass of thundering clouds that can take on any shape. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] The Unknown Binazdar - Spirit of Light, depicted as bright white cat the brother of Radzanib [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Razlab - Spirit of Dark, depicted as a jet black cat, the brother of Binazdar [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Fanzra - Spirit of Chaos, depicted as a hydra that never ceases to move its heads, the brother of Andrif [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Andrif - Spirit of Order, depicted as an aged and calm dragon, the brother of Fanzra [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Rinsdat - Spirit of Life, depicted as a white wolf, brother of Tagnir, they are always seen chasing each others tails [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Tagnir - Spirit of Death, depicted as a black wolf, brother of Ringat, they are always seen chasing each others tails [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Omnizan - Spirit of Space, depicted as a red snake, intertwined with it’s partner Sandru. Also take the form of a colossus wielding a shield made of the universe [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Sandru - Spirit of Time, depicted as a blue snake, intertwined with it’s partner Omnizan. Also takes the form of a colossus wielding a staff made of all time [Known by None] [Not Praised] [Alignment: Unknown] Greater Immortal Spirits The immortal spirits stand for all that is not material in the Realm, and thus there is a plethora of Immortal spirits with another countless amount of lessers beneath them. Greaters Votar - Spirit of the Hunt Appearing as a giant half-wolf-half-stag with a bloodied snout. Governs the art of Hunting and is often praised by offering tribute in the form of Hunting Trophies. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Freygoth -Spirit of the wild, nature, and animals She takes any natural form she may desire and works in union with the Aspects. Her role takes on a motherly figure to most. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Enrohk - Spirit of Bloodlust, Savagery, and War Appearing as a berserker covered in blood [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Dark] Vulka - Spirit of Warfare, strategy, and siegecraft Appearing as a woman made of bronze that is always preparing for war [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Dark] Jevex - Spirit of Order, Hard Work, and Self-Sacrifice Appearing as a humanoid composed of interlocking gears. Enemy of Shezept. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Shezept - Spirit of Revenge, Plots, and Stealth Appearing as a woman with the lower body of a snake. She rewards those that tell her their darkest of plots and secrets. Has a fascination for personal Vendettas. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Ixli - Spirit of Forbidden Knowledge, Truth, and Judgement Appearing as a giant staring eye. He provides knowledge at the cost of sanity. The Spirit knows All, but will only give away part of his knowledge upon request at the cost of a high price. Speaking with him often referred to as bargaining with a Demon. [Known by Few][Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Ogrol - Spirit of Despair, sapped strength, and entrapment Appearing as a thin man carrying a cage full of writhing bodies. He attempts to lock all who summon him away in his prison. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Kor - Spirit of the dead. Appears as a cloaked man with a bony open hand and a lantern. Unique in that he has a method of being outside the Immortal Plane in order to guide the souls of the departed to the Ancestral Plane. He is the Gatekeeper of the Stargûsh’Stroh. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Ankrus - Spirit of the sea, marine life, and sea-faring. Appears as a aquatic woman wielding a trident. Said to bless ships of honour in their oversea journey, where as she is without mercy for ships that dare defy her will. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Arwa- Spirit of fertility, harvest and farming. Appears as a plump female made of hay. A motherly figure that appears kind to all that praise her. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Anyhuluz - Spirit of destruction, malicious intent, and internal strife. Appears as a warrior covered in open wounds. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Akezo - Spirit of Health, Vitality, and Healing. Appears as a woman constantly surrounded by a blue aura, comprised of small wisps [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Paxahru - Spirit of arrogance and stupidity Appears as a jester [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Ublulhar - Spirit of hope and new beginnings Appearing as an entling bursting from the ground [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Ghorza - Spirit of Travel, movement, and fortune both bad and good Appearing as an old traveller with a walking stick, with various fetishes attached [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Rolfizh - Spirit of murder, the clandestine, and poison Appearing as a dagger-bearing figure made of shadow [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Trokorl - Spirit of engineering, machinery and construction Appearing as a pile of building materials and metal that can take any shape [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Luara - Spirit of the moon Appearing as a pale white wolf [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Kezt - Spirit of honour and bravery Appearing as a bright silver hoplite [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Ramakhet - Spirit of the desert, barren lands, and sand. He is never seen and therefore is only represented by his name. Sworn to scour the world of all life at the end of time. [Known by None] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Krathol - Spirit of Pain, suffering and starvation. Appears as a skeletal man with the ability to shift shape into a Vulture at will. Shall try to physically hurt all that dare summon him. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Veist - Spirit of Illusion, Tricks, and thievery. Appears as a faceless man with one thousand arms. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Glutros - The spirit of greed, and obesity He appears as a big man covered in jewelry and shall attempt to take all that is of value and hoard it. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Thulezia -Spirit of lust, pleasure and beauty Appearing as a succubus-like creature who shifts between male, female, or both. Will attempt to lure all whom summon it into temptation and seduction. If it succeeds it will entrap them. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Isuz - Spirit of love, caring, and tranquility Appearing as an Aengul that brings warmth to every beating hearth. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Kinul - Spirit of Disease, Pestilence, and failure. Appears as a wailing man with limbs constantly growing then falling off due to necrosis. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Urin - Spirit of weather, seasons, and climate Appearing as a raven that changes colour and temperament with the seasons. [Known by Few] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Kesaroth - Spirit of envy, hatred and jealousy Appearing as a golden bull [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Leyd - Spirit of dominance and physical strength Appearing as a strong man with burned off skin. His flesh blackened. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Scorthuz - Spirit of cleansing, purity and purging Appearing as a watery mass that takes many forms [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Aztran - Spirit of the Sun, Stars, and the Ethereal Appearing as a Qing Long [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Theruz - Spirit of intelligence and learning Appearing as a wise old teacher. Brother of Betharuz. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Betharuz -Spirit of alcohol, cactus green and celebration Appearing as a jovial young man, in direct contrast to his brother, Theruz [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Velkumezt - Spirit of cities, settlements, and the law Appearing as a giant carrying a hammer/sword. With a single smash he can erect a city around him. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Gentharuz - Spirit of smithing, smelting, industry and forging Appearing as a huge void of matter, hammering a cosmic anvil [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Ikuras - Spirit of Fear and Insanity. Often likes to pretend it is a daemon. Appears as a dark void with tendrils creeping out. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Wodanaz - Spirit of Magic, the Arcane, and Mystical energies Appearing as a swirling vortex of purple energy from which he takes any form [Known by Few] [Commonly Praised][Alignment: Neutral] Drelthok - Spirit of Sleeping and Dreams Appearing as a drowsy bear [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Eathruz - Spirit of Dawn and Dusk Appearing as a red woman able to transform into a fury red hawk. [Known by Few] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Kotrestruu - Spirit of Memory and the Recording of Knowledge Appearing as a wizened old man made up of scripture. Is known to carry a vial on him that acts as a cannister of memories taken from mortals. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Letrothak -Spirit of Hindsight, Warnings, and Excuses Appearing as small man with a head completely covered in eyes [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Xaakt - Immortal Spirit of Rebellion. Appears as a ghastly figure that can take on any form it wants. [Known by None] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Etna - Immortal Spirit of Melacholy and Depression. Appears as a blackened fog that takes the shape of a crying person. She will try to suck all emotion from those that summon her and only leave Sadness and Depression. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] âmul - Immortal Spirit of Wisdom and Foresight Spirit Appearance: A similar being to a Hou-Zi Dazkur - Greater Immortal Spirit Protection, and Loyalty Appearance: A great Paladin in steel armor, carrying nothing but a shield as protection/weapon Lessers Laklul - Spirit of Swamps and swamp life. Lesser under Freygoth. Appears as a large pale yellow toad-like creature [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Swamp] @Travista Jezdurka - Spirit of Lesser Dragonkin (dragons, drakes, wyverns, etc). Lesser under Freygoth. Appears as a red and white dragon. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Levaz - Spirit of Slaves and Slavery. Lesser under Leyd. Appears as a man with robes made of chains with a train of slaves following. [Known by Few] [Considered Taboo] [Alignment: Dark] Zagbal - Spirit of Jungles and the wildlife native to it. Appears as a gorilla with a crocodile's head. [Known by Many] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Neutral] Smawton - Spirit of Lore and Tomes. Lesser under Theruz. Appearing as a Dark Figure emanating White Light whom spends his time reading various tomes of old lore, rather than sorting them. [Known by Few] [Commonly Praised] [Alignment: Reading] @Smaw Ekues/Eques - Lesser Immortal Spirit of Dignity and Gallantry under Kezt Appearance: A mysterious figure dressed in clad iron armor. Kaas - Lesser Immortal Spirit of Kaas is the spirit of reconaissance, stealth, and secrecy, under Vulka Kaa contrasts to Shezept, as the intentions of Shezept are for personal vengeance, whereas the actions that Kaa oversees are for the purposes of warfare and the taking of bad actions for the greater good. Appearance: A purple-scaled python Greater Ancestral Spirits The Greatest [Known by All] Krug - The first and greatest Shaman. Due to his greatness in life, he is an exceptonally powerful ancestral in death, and so summoning will require a convention of at least 5 T5 Lutaumans to even have a possibility of summoning him, though even then it’s likely that attempting to toy with such great power will result in failure, and potentially great harm or death. The Greater [Known by Many] Lur - Said to be the greatest hunter in history. Rax - Said to be the greatest warrior of all time. Gorkil - Known as a great military strategist and tactician. Braduk - Famed as a great Chieftain Dom - Said to be a exceptional shaman, second only to Krug. Ugluk - Third born kub of Gorkil, renowned as a great warrior. Azog - Said to be the greatest smith in history. Kurak - Also known as the wolf of Lur, when summoned causes the shaman to transform into a half orc, half wolf creature, losing their mind for the short while they are transformed. Tor - Also known as the Fist of Lur, renown for his calm, collective intellect and physical strength. Trickster - Trickster of Lur, he was renowned for his subterfuge. His skills at deception and diversion were so great his identity was unknown. Bralkor - The Axe of Lur, known for his great resistance to physical damage. Jarkun - The Sword of Lur, known for strength combined with dexterity and speed. Yar - Descended from Dom (though unknown to be so), known for his great wisdom and spirituality. Yaggo - Sometimes called the greatest rider of all time. Dregort - The greatest boat builder and captain to have ever lived, legend holds his mother was Ankrus herself Grumbag - Known in life as a great builder, he is the patron off all Yazgars Vargo - Known for being a great alchemist. The Known [Known by Few] (The Uruks and Mali‘Ker) Kharak [Smawton] - An exceptional Orcish Rex who created the world's greatest ever tribute to a Spirit in the form of the Orgonic plague. Known for his exceptional spirituality and leadership. Phaedrus [Cosmicwhaleshark] - Liberator of the Wood Elves, and first Elven Rex of the War Uzg as well as a great shaman. Renowned for his honour, wisdom, integrity and tenacity. Khel [Baconthief] - One of the greatest mali'ker to live, he uplifted his people out from the abyss. He is renowned for his frightful ferocity paired with a cunning mind Arganos [FactCore] - A superb party goer and thrower, and a maestro in the art of entertainment and celebration. Renowned for his skill in acrobatics and many musical instruments. Kaldo - A firm but fatherly figure among most living mali'ker, he guided his people through adversity. Renowned for his carefulness and authority. Jiub [Sky] - An immense figure who founded the Div'cruan. Known for his strength, honour, and bravery. Delilah [Decolamb] - A matriarchal figure to the dark elves during the time of Thales and early Athera, her love and care brought many dark elves into the fold and gave them purpose. Lenden [LinkKN2] - An outgoing member of the Div’cruan and a servant to the ‘Ker. Lenden’s happiness was infectious to those around him. Weather through kind words or a bright smile, Lenden lit up many ‘Ker’s lives and left a lasting impact after his passing. Grubgoth Wud [Grubgoth_Wud] - A notoriously savage olog of a tremendous height and weight, albeit uncannily adroit chef. Notably Grubgoth of the War Uzg under a myriad of Rexes, and Keshig under the plague-bringer Kharak’Raguk. For a brief period, he commanded his own clan of ologs. New Spirits New spirits are discovered every now and then by a wandering shaman. If he’d come across one of new species, mostly being a lesser, it is documented and thus added to this list. (( Out of Character )) If you have a suggestion for a new Greater / Lesser Spirit of Immortal or Ancestral heritage, please fill in the following format and tag me (@hedgehug) in it in order for the spirit to be reviewed and possibly added. Spirit Type: Greater / Lesser (and if Lesser name the Greater that stands superior over it) Spirit Name: Spirit Totem: Spirit Appearance: (You may include concept art) Alignment: Discovery: Found by a wandering shaman (though of) / On-Server Event

Hopeful Angel, Lady of Dreams, The Wings of Beginning The world is often a cruel place, ripping those of kindness down and shattering innocence in the name of anguish and corruption. And yet, in spite of it all, time and time again, new heroes rise to try and combat the tyranny of the world. And from those heroes, a hope is born into the world to inspire new heroes, and to allow for the next generation to begin despite all that the world throws against them. Lady Evisi is a spirit on the rise in her own right, and she hopes to inspire those of the world to stand up for what is right, hoping to usher in a new era of the good and righteous. "Please, not again. I worked so hard to be done with this." Arvel thought to himself as he could hear whispers once more as he sat. How many months, years even, had he been trying to get a handle on the voices he heard, the figures he saw, those who haunted him? He had been getting help, he had a lot of people supporting him. Yet all it took was another demon, and he found himself burned once more. The voices creeped up again.. yet this time was different. He had won against the demoness that wandered her way into their home. He had back up, but even if not, he likely would have banished her all on his own. And yet, as he sat meditating once more, trying to continue his recovery efforts from the burns, he could hear that he wasn't alone. It didn't make any sense. How could he not be alone up here? This mountain top, the Peak of Enlightenment, had almost always been abandoned. For all the talk he heard of possible threats lingering up here, he had been climbing this mountain for years, and only ever saw one of the grounds keepers once. She offered him no harm, and it had been years since then. And yet he still heard whispers on the wind. He didn't feel alone up here. He.. felt colder than before. That was odd. Despite being rather high up, the Peak was in the heart of a desert, the sun's warmth was not something he lost so quickly. And yet he could feel the air get cooler, the light of the sun no longer radiating on his skin, the sharp sound of the wind had dimmed to that faint whispering.. and running water? He opened his eyes, no, something had certainly changed. Now as he sat, he looked around at even higher cliffs around him, the day had turned to dusk, but the sky was still filled with light. The moon was full, and accompanying it and the stars were beautiful waves of green dancing through the night, leaving the sky glowing as if it had been day. A new realm before him.. and higher peaks to climb. He took a deep breath, the fresh air of evergreen trees filling his lungs, as he got to his feet. The whispers continued faintly on the wind, ever calling, but no figure stood to speak their words. Not yet at least. There was only one route to travel, he had another climb before him. But what was one more mountain to climb? The climb itself wasn't that much of a challenge physically. How many mountains had he climbed at this point since that day long ago.. That was it. This must be the realm of a Spirit or a God, it had to be. Just like all those years ago, climbing a mountain to reach the Lord of Crocodiles, he had another before him. Yet the trouble for him wasn't that, but what came alongside it. The whispers picked up on the winds, growing louder and clearer the further he climbed. There were cries, angry shouts, tirades, mockeries. From the tree line as he climbed, their shadows called to him. "Come back to us!" They pleaded, "You are not worthy!" They spat, "Failure!" It stung once more, freezing him in his place. How many times had he heard such scolding? How long had he let it drain him, especially now, echoing the tone of past figures haunting him. How many had he failed? How long had he worked just to be losing himself once more. Their cries grew louder, their words grew more demanding, the call to face them in the forest and accept their demands weighed heavy on him. He could face them now, the demons and the dead, forever haunting his mind, and cast himself to their madness and oblivion. He could accept their titles, bow his head to receive their laurels, and lose himself as their champion. A champion of nothing, a hero to no one, a protector who needed protecting. And yet.. The ascent continued. Now was not the time to give in to old words, old stings, gnawing at the back of his skull. He had worked too hard, he had fought for too long. He couldn't let the nightmares drag him back down again. He worked too hard for this, he had too many looking up to him. He was going to get this right.. And there he was, just about reaching the top. He had almost lost his outward focus, he had been so keen on steadying his mind, he didn't realize he had long since past the cries of howling winds. That life was behind him, he wouldn't be dragged down any further, he had been so close, he had succeeded where time and time again he failed. There was but a gentle breeze caressing the cliffs as he made it to the summit. Atop the cliff, Arvel found himself looking over a breathtaking landscape. The smell of the mountain air and the evergreen trees elevated him, the light of the stars and the aurora were truly stunning, and their very mistress was perched overlooking her valleys, streams, forests, and cliffs. The one person who had been missing from the crowd of shadows from the forest. The one who had always encouraged him, even when every other thought berated and belittled him. His sister. Or.. not quite her. His sister certainly hadn't reached her age, she had such an elegant look to her, the moon light radiating her image, she was simply divine. A flowered dress of beautiful blues, matching the flowers perched in her vibrantly flowing silver hair, reaching down to rest on the cliff. She turned to face him, her powerful crystal blue eyes quite the contrast to the purple his family had. And yet what had almost left him speechless, her angelic visage leaving him in awe, her elegant figure had been a bit of a facade, as she clumsily tripped in trying to address him, stumbling forward. She caught herself right in front of him, having to actually look up slightly to meet his gaze, and she let out a cheerful giggle as joy radiated her face. While still radiant in her own right, a childlike excitement filled her words as she looked to Arvel before her. "Oh Arvel! I have waited so long to speak with you.. I think you are finally ready." She addressed him now, trying to return to her more proper pose. As she did this, Arvel would attempt to offer a bow, but would be wildly caught of guard as the spirit before him pulled him into a hug. "No need for that! Not yet anyway.. you've earned a bit of respect, you hero! You banished a foul one, a demon! I've waited so long to see you shine like this, I always knew you could do it! Ever since the first day I heard your calls, all those years ago." She took a step back now, allowing him to continue his greeting, seemingly satisfied with her own introduction. Arvel, for his part, was stunned. The grandeur he had grown to expect from spirits was notably lacking here. She didn't tower over him, she didn't overwhelm him with emotions, she wasn't demanding, or anything of the sorts. She had just pulled him into a hug, and was acting more like long lost family than the powerful figure she likely was. His confusion was clear to see, as he simply asked. "I.. I don't understand. How long have you been.. Ivala? You.. you can't be her.. I know it. But you.. I.." He stumbled through his words, as he finally was able to get to his bow of his greeting. "Forgive me, I.. I am Arvel Tou, and I am honored to meet you Good Lady. I am sorry if I.. didn't respond the right way, I.. I wasn't-" But he was cut off, as she held up a finger, and playfully shushed him. "Nonsense! There is no need to apologize, you have done more then enough to be earning praises! Though.. I liked that politeness, that was nice of you." She laughed at that, now standing with proper grace and form. The aurora behind her shone to highlight her wings, although most of the light came from the now emphasized moon highlighting her visage. "My name is Lady Evisi, and it is such a pleasure to finally speak with you in a way you can understand." "I have to ask you something, if you wouldn't mind Evisi." Arvel had put forward, the two of them had taken to sitting by the cliff side overlooking the valleys. "Of course, go right ahead!" She cheerfully encouraged. "You said you had been watching me for years.. how did you find me? And why? How long has it been?" He tried asking, with Evisi giggling a bit in response, "That's quite a lot of questions! Well.. they all sort of have the same answer. I.. had first noticed you long ago, I had struggled for a long time trying to find my footing in the world. High hopes are often trampled by the struggles this world had to offer... but you were different from the start. You were determined, and hoped to find a way to honor your sister. You built a shrine in her honor in a land of Gods and Spirits. I.. I had a chance to find myself honored, after being passed over by many. That hope, that beginning you made in Rah'tuma, it helped make me who I am today." She opened her wings, and briefly stood, offering a twirl to show her appearance before she sat down with a smile. "You never gave up. You always kept putting yourself forward. Even when in service to others, you always held what was right the highest, and you encouraged those around you. That much is something truly special. I have to admit.. I would try to send encouragement your way, especially when you were at your lowest when the banishment took place, and when the demon struck you down." Arvel couldn't help but ask, "You were talking through my sister then? Or.. what I saw as my sister?" Evisi simply replied, "You weren't.. well at the time, but look at you now!" She tried to encourage. "You not only defeated a demoness, but you are almost whole again. I believe you will make it all the way, start something new.. and if you would have me, I would like to do so together." He looked up, having waited for this to come. "You won't abandon me.. will you?" She shook her head, a frown crossing her face for a moment, "I'm not tied to a kingdom, Arvel, you have been my hero for all these years. Working so hard to make things better for others, to help them reach their dreams. I would be honored to work with you, maybe we can really make a difference in this world. I just.. have one request." Arvel looked over to her and smiled, his mind having been made up. He would simply ask. "What would you have me do then, Lady Evisi?" The Angel seemed ecstatic at the confirmation, getting to her feet, and ushering Arvel to shift to kneel before her. She was filled to the brim with excitement, her first knighting of her own hero. "Please rebuild my shrine once more, I know you have a place set out for it in your home. If you would honor me this way.. and perhaps make a flower garden on the surface to match it, then I believe we can start things fresh. A new beginning for us both. Thank you Arvel, for giving me all the hope in the world I could ask for. Go, and raise up those around you the way you always do. I'll always be here if you need it, go forth, and change the world for the better," With that, a bond is forged, as a crystal blue glow would illuminate Arvel's eyes, marking a new beginning, as he awoke once more atop the Peak of Enlightenment. He would begin making his way home, for he had a shrine to rebuild, and a flower garden to plant and tend to. [Spirit Pact with Lady Evisi, Lesser of Ublulhar, 1/3]

"Where am I..." Far across the lands stretched an endless remnant of battles long fought. The earth was cracked and muddy with offal and blood, pierced by rusty blades and the rotting shafts from which tattered banners fluttered in the thick, hazy air. Everywhere were piled skulls and bones of the fallen, clad in broken armor beaten and bashed. In the skies high above the carrion crows flocked, their caws a mimicry of the sounds of warfare and clashing of steel as clouds swirled in a rumbling sea of thunder and lightning, like the pounding of cannon and the crack of killing blows. All the lands were drenched a red hue as the sun, blazing oppressively overhead, cast down it's crimson aura, as if washed with the blood of the endless dead. Rakhnar shuttered a breath at the sight, his throat was parched, as if he'd been standing there in the dust and heat for hours, and his arms felt the need to grasp his weapon, even though he carried none. He took a few cautious steps forward, his red hair fluttered in the harsh wind, and his coat tails trailed behind him, caught in their grasp. Suddenly his foot sunk into a shallow ditch, filled with blood, and he recoiled away from it, stepping on a bleached skull which cracked and broke as he did. The air reverbed with it's sickening crunch, and the heaving of his chest. "Got to get outta' here." He eventually said, looking around the endless landscape for a way out. He found no immediate path of escape, though in the distant red horizon he spotted the ruins of some once great building, now merely a collection of marble pillars and desolated walls little more than piled bricks. He made his way there, carefully avoiding the remains littered around him and the pools of blood and offal. The journey was a battle in itself, every step he took he risked slipping in bloodied mud, tripping upon buried skulls, or impaling himself upon broken spear shafts which jutted from the ground, waiting with anticipation to drink the blood of the unfortunate. Soon, he came upon a great river which flowed slow and thick. It was bright red, and seemed almost to steam with warmth. He looked to his left and right, and saw no place where it ended, and gazed upon the ruins on the other side. "Have mercy." He muttered, then put a foot in. The feeling was like no other, the river was thick, it's contents seemed to stick to him, trying to drag him along, but was thankfully no more than knee deep in the middle. He soon reached the other side, his legs dripping with thick blood which drooled from his feet into the ground below. Now before him was the ruin. What little of it remined was but columns and loose walls of marble brick which shone like a beacon of light in the crimson atmosphere of this place, and Rakhnar found himself drawn there even more. Soon, he came upon a great courtyard where many skeletons were piled, though some stood out from the others. They were clad in armor, mostly intact, and held blades that were long and chipped from many battles. There was also, at the end of the courtyard, a throne carved of marble with many skulls laid at it's base, as if it was propped up purely on the remains of the fallen. Yet, it was empty. The dwarf approached it, his footsteps echoing upon the broken tiles and debris. Then came a glint from the corner of his eye, and he ducked just as a great blade was swing overhead. He fell to the ground, and turned to see what now stood over him, and his jaw dropped. It was man of great size, hair black as the night which was slick with sweat and blood. He wore little armor, but had gauntlets and pauldrons of steel, and in his hand he held a massive blade. His red eyes pierced into the dwarf, a sneer upon his face. "You dare enter the realm of the Lord of Rage!?" The man roared. Rakhnar scrambled back as the man rushed forth, swinging his great blade in hopes of cutting Rakhnar's chest open. On his feet, the dwarf watched the warrior swing widely at him, to which the dwed ducked once more. Eying a broken sword upon the ground laid beside a battered and broken shield, Rakhnar grasped them and swiftly blocked the warrior's blade with the flat of his shield. "Fool!" The man rasped as he stepped back, "You'll find only your death here, and I shall drink from your skull!" He made another wide swing, and Rakhnar side stepped it, rounding his sword to slice at the warrior's exposed arm. It connected, and blood dripped from his blade as the wound sprayed forth precious crimson ichor. But, the warrior cared not, he brought his massive blade around, and arched a heavy swing overhead which crashed into the tiles below as Rakhnar evaded. The dwed pushed his advantage, eager to pierce the warrior's exposed side, though was forced to step aside and block as the warrior's blade nearly connected with his own unprotected torso. Rakhnar stood steadfast, blade and battered shield in hand, as the massive warrior stared him down. "Foolish mortal." The warrior hissed, "You think you can best a Champion of Armok, God of Blood?" The dwarf could hear it's heavy footsteps as he approached. Rakhnar steadied himself, and as the warrior raised his sword high, the dwarf sidestepped and lunged, anticipating the champion's sloppy overhead swing. But, it would prove a fatal mistake as his gut was kicked swiftly with enough force to knock him on his back. Rakhnar let go of his blade as he gasped for air, the pain in his chest blunt and heavy. He reached out for the blade, just a bit too far to grasp. He felt massive hands grab his form, and he found himself staring straight into the crimson eyes of the champion before being thrown aside like a ragdoll across the broken, bone laden ground. "Enough." A voice boomed. Rakhnar gazed up, his body aching from the throw and kick, and his eyes once again widened at the sight before him. The throne was now occupied. Before him stood a man with skin pale as bone, and pulsing red veins which flowed with precious life-blood. His face was sharp, and his eyes a bright crimson which burned red smoke. From his head protruded two large horns that arched skywards, he looked down at the prone dwed with a stoic gaze. Armok, Spirit of War and Rage "You are strong, mortal, but also weak." The demonic looking entity spoke, "Your sword arm is swift, but your eyes are blurry and fogged over." He leaned down, "Your heart is honorable, but your mind is cautious and slothful." Rakhnar got up, and stood before the skull throne and it's master, "Where am I?" He muttered out weakly. "You are in my realm." The Spirit said, "I am Armok, the God of Blood. The Lord of Rage. The Harbringer of War." Armok boomed, "And I have brought you here to test your mettle." Rakhnar opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. "You have a vision." Armok started, "A dream, perhaps. And you know how to achieve it." The Lesser leaned back, "But, you let temperance cloud your reality. Nothing changes without action, you know this." Rakhnar could only nod. It was true, he'd spent decades seeking knowledge and wisdom to combat the Dark Ones. To try and achieve his vision of peace and plenty for the world, and his idle hands had only led to more pain and suffering. "You have the spirit of a warrior, yet you let it be drowned by the bickering in your mind. 'What if this' and 'What about that'." Armok said mockingly, "But today, you showed that the heart of a warrior will always triumph. You faced down my champion with courage and skill, rather than fall to your knees and beg. You were outmatched from the very beginning, yet you faced your enemy on your feet, rather than bow your head and succumb. You gave your life in battle." Rakhnar looked behind him, and saw the Champion standing there, his blade mere inches away from him, held there as blood dripped from his wound. Rakhnar realized he'd have perished had Armok not stopped the fight. He looked back to the Lesser, "But what of the others?" He said, "If I seek out conflict, I will put them in all danger." "Conflict has already found you, mortal." Armok replied, "It is your idleness that allowed your life to be swept away from you. Your sloth that tore your family apart. Your submission to your mind that has let the world grow dark." Armok gazed over the dwarf with his smoking eyes, "But, I can change that. I can give you the ability to bring peace. I can give you the rite of valor. I can give you the power to protect your family, and all that is good." Images of his wife and friends flashed across his mind. The time an olog maimed his love. All the years of darkspawn hunting his god-daughter. The heralds that seek to devour the world. The demons that now prowl the lands where he lives. Rakhnar had, despite his best efforts, always been powerless to stop these things. He'd been too busy scouring the world's libraries, or wandering the wilderness, dreaming of the day they would be truly safe. "Such a dream could be a reality." Armok nodded, "And all I ask is that you fight in my name. Kill in my name." Armok grinned, "Let your blade drink the blood of those who oppose us. The world shall know me, Armok! God of Blood!" Rakhnar felt his soul burn with the fire of rage. His fists clenched, his teeth grit, and he slammed his eyes shut as he fell to his knees. His veins pulsed with adrenaline, and he felt his arm instinctively go to the bloody blade he'd held before, cutting his hands upon it's chipped edge and he raised it into the air. "RRRAAAAAGGGGHHH!" He gave a blood-curdling scream. Armok grinned, and waved his hand, and Rakhnar felt himself flung from the realm of blood and war. In his mind he felt only rage. Rage against the Darkness. Rage against those who'd harm him. Rage against those who cursed his family. Rage for war. Rage for blood. Rage against the man who'd deceived him for so long... [Spirit Pact with Armok, Lesser of Enrohk, 2/3]

The Grand Archivist, Keeper of the Greatest Wisdom, The First Magician Silence filled the library. Candlelight flickered, casting shadows upon the bookshelves and pillars. The tables were littered with scrolls and tomes, quills and inkwells, and parchments ready to receive fresh text. But, all this was deemed appropriate, for Te’uth, Lord of Knowledge, valued such things. It was here, in his great library, that Rakhnar prayed. Down on his knees, his arms wrapped around him, head bowed low, the dwarf muttered words of praise. He knelt at the foot of a grand statue, carved of blackstone and adorned with ornaments of silver and gold, encrusted with opals. The circle of candles which Rakhnar prayed within made his robe and auburn hair nearly glow in their light, its warm hues lighting the dark face of the statue. “Lord Te’uth, Knower of All Things, Keeper of the Greatest Wisdom. I give ye’ praise fer’ your works, told and untold.” He lowered himself, his nose nearly touching the ground, before rising again, head low still, “It is your will that fuels me, drives me to a path of knowledge an’ understanding.” Again, he lowered himself, “Praise be! Praise!” His words were muffled by the ground and his beard. But, when he rose, a voice called back to him, distant and almost shrill, “Rakhnar, Son of Urguan, now Son of Ka'tau, rise.” It was a voice the dwarf recognized well, and his eyes widened as his ears were touched by his words. Rakhnar looked up, and the statue glowed a vibrant sheen of golden yellow, “You have done well in my name.” The jade eyes upon its visage flickering with every word spoken by the God. Rakhnar was quick to bow deeply again, “I have only done my duty, oh Lord of Wisdom.” He said humbly. “You’ve built for me a grand library. One you have filled with great pieces of knowledge. You have spread my wisdom to those who would hear it, and have built for me the foundations of a temple and loyal priesthood.” The voice stated with little emotion, “You have served me well, for this, you shall be rewarded.” The sheen of gold surrounding the statue shot out like a tendril and latched onto the dwarf’s forehead. Rakhnar felt his head recoil as his mind was pierced by Te’uth’s power. He wanted to cry out in shock, but simply couldn’t, his jaw locked. “You shall wield my influence. You shall wipe clean the minds of my enemies. You shall separate the lies of Ibless from my Pure Truth. You shall empty the minds of those who would oppose Ka’tau.” The voice boomed in a screeching pitch. Rakhnar could only nod as his mind was filled with the knowledge of Heka and the powers of the Great Keeper. His eyes widened, unblinking, “Yes, Lord Te’uth.” Was all he could muster. “As my Nehemtempi Netjer, my High Priest, I shall grant you one more boon.” The voice seemed closer, as if the God was leaning in, “A Volume of my Great Book.” Te’uth paused, “One of Thousands, but this one will be vital to your service. Its location I have long kept secret until a Netjer worthy of its power showed themselves. Find it. And with it, wipe clean this world of Isfet.” With that, the gold light faded, and Rakhnar gasped for breath as the room fell silent and cold once again. He held his head with one hand, and blinked. The knowledge Te’uth granted was all there, as if he’d known it his whole life. His emerald eyes gazed back up to the statue, and he nodded with a bow. “Thy will be done.” [Spirit Pact with Te'uth, lesser of Theruz, 1/3]

The dawn was a brilliant fiery red. The open sky streaked with the rays of the rising sun over the distant horizon. Clouds vacated their place high above and floated to unknown lands. The dunes of the desert rolled for as far as the eye could see, like waves upon a vast ocean. It was a sight Rakhnar took in as he crested the hill of a dune. The wind blew faintly, kicking up small swirls of sand from the slopes. Not a bird or insect in sight or ear, nor even a rock to break up the monotony of the landscape. The dwarf’s shoulder sagged low as he held onto his walking stick. He’s long lost count of the dunes he’d crested. He’d even lost count of the days he’d been wandering the deserts. Had it been weeks? Months? Years? His brilliant red beard, now nearly brown and gritty with sand, told him only one thing: it had been a long time. ‘You’re mind isn’t right.’ Rakhnar had been told, ‘Wisdom and Peace are to be found in the desert.’ The desert was a holy place, the favored land of the Gods, and the rightful home of the Rah’mun. It was here Ka’tau dwelled, and it was wisdom and peace Rakhnar sought more than anything. But now, he was hopeless. Foolishly wandering from the lands he knew into the scorching seas, he’d long ago lost his way back to civilization. His waterskin was dry, and his bread had gone bad. So, he drifted. Cresting dune after empty dune in some vain attempt to find a road, or even just a cacti to quench his thirst. So, it was now as he watched Ra’s sun rise that he slumped down. His cracked lips trembled in thirst, and he cried out with a parched, scratchy breath, “Ka’tau, hear me!” He cried, “I’ve been a fool! In search of yer’ wisdom, I’ve found only my death! Save my wretched soul!” Rakhnar was answered only with the faint howl of wind, and cupping his face with his hands he wept. But, his sand infested hair whipped suddenly, his loose toga fluttering behind him, and he looked up from wet hands. What was at first a sudden gust of hot air, suddenly burst forth a whirlwind. Sand clouded his vision, and the scorching winds burned his lungs to breath. Rakhnar raised his hands in an effort to shield his face, and the sands cut his bare flesh as the light of the sun became clouded over by this sandstorm. “Dare not cower before me, Priest.” A voice boomed, carried in the roaring winds. “Stand, or my storm shall consume you.” Rakhnar instinctively opened his eyes, for he had not heard a voice in far too long. The sands parted, as if he now stood in the eye of the storm, and his jaw dropped at the sight before him: it was a tall man, with the head of a magnificent lion. A golden toga was wrapped about him, with assortments of jewelry hanging from his form. In his hand he held a long spear, most of his form clouded by the sands. Rakhnar weakly got to his feet, hunger and thirst weighing him down, his stick barely holding him up, “W-who are you?” The figure grunted, his fine mane fluttering in the winds, “I am disappointed to hear a Priest of Te’uth to not know my name. But, I expected no less.” He paused, “I am Shab, Tempest of the Deserts, Lord of the Scorched and Chilling Sands, The Bringer of Sandstorms, The Fire of Ra, The Settler of Debts, The Bringer of Vengeance.” Shab announced, tapping his spear into the sand. “The desert is still cold from the night, but shall soon be hot in the day. I am this transition made manifest.” Rakhnar didn’t know what to say. He’d read the Books of the Gods many times, and never heard of this god before, “What do you want?” He croaked out from a scorched throat. “The People of Ka’tau have suffered much at many hands. Orcs, Dragons, Demons, Angel-Worshippers, and Liches.” Shab boomed, “So many wrongs have yet to be made right. So many misdeeds have gone unpunished. Countless beings of Isfet that assault the Chosen of the Sands from dawn until dusk. It is unacceptable.” Shab didn’t move, or at least he didn’t physically, but he appeared closer now to the dwarf, “The desert burns with anger at these slights. It has been watered with the blood of Rah’mun, and it seeks vengeance for this wretched act.” He pointed his spear at the dwed, “You shall see its cry answered.” Rakhnar recoiled at the command. The dwarf had fought many battles, had taken much life, and as such was no stranger to violence. But, he felt himself level-headed, he always sought a peaceful solution first, and never instigated violence if he could help it. Perhaps sensing his uncertainty, Shab growled, “You have witnessed first-hand the pain and terror the enemies of Ka’tau have wrought upon your brothers and sisters. Yet, you hesitate to accept my decree? You know what must be done. When the words of Te’uth and Hesthor fail, the action of the Protectors must be done.” He tapped his spear again. “The quill is only as mighty as the sword.” Rakhnar muttered with a nod. The words of a man meant nothing, if he wasn’t willing to fight for it. “I shall right the wrongs done upon us. I shall avenge every slight, every drop of blood...” He felt the words spill forth. As if a wrathful corner of his soul, long buried, had suddenly been unbarred and allowed free reign. Shab nodded, “Then accept my boon, and walk this world as my warrior priest.” He raised his spear high, “I shall guide you through my dunes, and save you from a pitiful death here. So that your khopesh may rain the blood of our enemies.” There was a violent crash of air upon the dwarf. It felt beyond hot, as if he’d just been sprayed with molten iron. Then, not a second later, he was chilled to the bone, as if his very soul was iced over. Rakhnar’s eyes clinched, his teeth chattered, and his hands reached out for relief. “You shall command my tempests. Your words shall burn the souls of the unjust, and chill them to their core. From your tongue shall whirlwinds howl and sandstorms cloud out the skies. They shall all know my name.” Then, it was all over. The feeling of scorching fire and chilling lashes upon him ceased. The sand settled, the skies became clear, and the winds slowly calmed. “Vengeance takes their damned souls.” Shab echoed upon the distant winds. Rakhnar opened his eyes, and gazed about. He felt something…strange within him. A fire. A purpose. Newfound. He stood up, his hunger and thirst forgotten, and breathed in the hot air of the desert, now a comfort as he watched the sun rise once more. “So it shall.” Rakhnar nodded. He took notice of a distant cloud of sand, a twister that ran across the dunes, and something within his soul urged him to head there. “The quill is only as mighty as the sword.” He repeated, taking his way down the slope of the dune. There had been wisdom to be found after all. [Spirit Pact with Shab, lesser of Urin, 2/3]

Lord of Crocodiles, The Great Protector, Enforcer of the Natural Order Of the many great beasts that roam the lands, sands, and waters of the world, an ancient legacy of strength is brought forth through one of the most powerful of the world's creatures, the mighty Crocodile. This ancient and stalwart watcher of the rivers lays a swift and decisive judgment upon any who dare disrespect it, safe guarding their waters and territory from all who seek to trespass. It is this vigilance, this power, this endurance, that the great Lord Dorabek embodies, and it is these traits which he demands from those who follow his creed. But it is not just physical strength one must muster to follow the will of the Lord of Crocodiles, but a great spiritual and emotional strength as well, for the strength of a people rests not just in their bodies, but in their morale, and their very souls. To this, those who wish to honor The Great Protector must be a foundational anchor for the communities to which they oversee, a beacon of strength whom others may lean on, who keeps strong in the face of darkness. Overlooking the vast Marshes of old, a new temple rose to overlook a domain once lost. A shining beacon, a revival of power, one to honor the mighty Lord Dorabek. A grand and glistening structure marks a new era, and inside, a ritual took place to begin the great revival. Below the great inner chamber, a seating area housed two, Arvel Ahmoskhnum Tou, a younger, smaller dark elf who had constructed this monument to the God of Strength, and the dwarven high priest of Te-uth, Nebkhet-Sha. It was here that the high priest prepared a ritual for Ahmoskhnum, one to honor a God who's priesthood had nearly died out in these lands. The two entered with a determined resolve, Ahmoskhnum in particular had done much to honor Lord Dorabek, and if he was to respect the Lord of Crocodiles, he couldn't show any weakness in his conviction here. Ancient words were preached, sacrifices were offered, but it was this conviction to which Lord Dorabek truly cared for, and that would send the scholar and the protector to be into the void, as they traversed to the lands of the Gods, and the Domain of the Natural order. To meet with the Great Protector, however, was not a rushed endeavor, for his domain was vast and demanding, not just any could traverse the dangers that lie in wait. But the dwed and elf persisted, for their conviction in mind and spirit would match their resilience and their strength. Entering the domain of the Lord of Crocodiles saw the two placed in a vast valley oasis, one filled to the brim with much of what called the world home. But it was the Dorabekin, the crocodile, which reigned supreme, basking in the glory of the sun across the vast oasis. To approach the waters of the watchful without respect would be foolish, as hundreds of eyes now turned their gaze towards the unfamiliar pair, testing their resolve. But neither faltered. While the dwarf had been the one to initiate the ritual, Ahmoskhnum would be their guide from now on, not flinching to the test of resolve. He would not disrespect the Dorabekin, for it was they who were protecting their own waters, but he would not be dismayed from his course, carefully leading his companion down the banks until they reached an eventual clearing. It was here that a vast sea sprawled out before them, with a jutted stone outcropping rising above it. The blackened rock was not unattended either, as more Crocodile had chosen this place to bask in the sun. For it was here, they now had to test their strength, and reach the very top. The climb to the top was long and arduous, though the pair never lost their resolve. The dwarf was well experienced, having served the Gods for some time now, while the elf was filled with unwavering dedication, to protect those he has grown to care for, and to embody the strength of the God he wished to honor. It was here where their resolve was tested the most, the final leg of the journey, yet if found them unwavering. It would seem the last test before meeting the mighty Dorabek was one which the two Rah'muns were able to match. On reaching the top, Ahmoskhnum was prepared to advise patience, but before he even had the chance, a voice boomed out from behind the two, leading to both to bow. "You are persistent." Dorabek said as he rose from his throne, going to look out over his great oasis, "What drives your conviction? "I come to honor you, my lord." Ahmoskhnum raised his head, to speak with a determined conviction, moving to a kneel instead to maintain respect. "I wish to restore your priesthood, and to protect those for which I have grown to care for." "Long has my will been neglected, and my name near-forgotten. It is a great shame. But I know who you are, and I know of your deeds. I have seen the temple for which you honor my name." "And it is my honor to do so." The elf bowed his head once more. He'd turn to look down at the elf, "You have a strong will, and a heart of bronze. You have done well in my name, and as such, I shall grant you my boons. You shall carry it, but only through great effort shall you keep it." With that, a blinding light would briefly engulf the now chosen of Dorabek, imbuing him with the strength needed to keep his people safe. "Go now, and remember that actions speak louder than words." [Spirit Pact with Dorabek, lesser of Freygoth, 1/3]

Dasul- The Eternal Flame of Purity The white flame without ash. The cold waters in the pure land of snow, Dasul slumbered. Reawakened by a devote Uruk to cleanse the land for the safety of the Descendants. Their name will return to the mortal coil. The lands will be cleansed! In the Realm of Spirits, the white pure arctic fields are free from the gripping darkness. The Orcess and her teacher walk through the snow. The Orcess adorned in white fur robes, resisting the bitter bite of the cold on her feet. The animals frolic through the snow, enjoying the peace of the fallen snow as they approach trees, walking through to a pond untouched by the frozen touch of the lands. As they approached, form began to manifest. A white flaming spirit now presents itself before them. A slumber that lasted ages, the Daughter of Krug being the last to speak the name, of Dasul, the Eternal Flame of Purity, the white flame without ash, the cleansing will of Scorthuz. Reawakened to a broken promise that was made in ages past, the flame reignited in dominance. The Orcess raises her hands to the Spirit, claiming that her path is to cleanse the lands and see the world free from the Darkness. An accord was quickly struck, both agreeing to terms. Dasul's name be brought back from the Spirit Realm, a Shrine in their honor to cleanse the lands of the living. To sacrifice Darkspawn at their altar and to gain followers under their name. Only when these conditions are met, will The Eternal Flame offer it's will and strength to the Orcess.

A Promise to Akezo 20th of Sun's Smile, SA 167 These pages strongly smell of cactus green with a faint hint of sage and nutmeg. Today was a pretty important day for me, as I finally got to meet another great spirit: Akezo, the immortal spirit of healing and vitality. I always wanted to meet him, as I always tended to her shrine in the old Krugmar, and prayed to him many times in my medical career. Hera, my current teacher in the shamanic art of Farseeing, brought me in her realm through a spiritwalk, though it was a bit different than what I usually experienced from my more frequent spirit walks through the Stargush'stroh; The smoke that Hera conjured was warmer, and way calmer than the dead cold cyan mist I'm used to, and instead of being pulled down or feeling as if falling, i felt a pulling upwards. It was very refreshing, as I always wandered what it would feel like to fly, or levitate. I Woke up in a huge hall, surrounded by quartz pillars and marble arches above them. It was pretty dark, but fortunately the place seemed filled with a faint blue light, letting me see a throne at the end of the hall. Sat on the throne I finally saw her: a huge winged serppent with shiny diamond scales, her eyes pierced the darkness with their icy blue shim, and it was like they were looking through my very soul. Akezo firstly thought Hera brought there just another soul in need of purging, but i tried to erase her doubt by reeting her in Old Blah with: "Lup Akezo, za kulat zrii trafat lat". I studied it for a few years, but it wasn't easy to remember all the words, especially when time was not in my favour. She seemed to have liked it, and so we both started speaking in Old Blah (at least I did some good practice with a native speaker). She told me not many uruks came to his realm, but a lot of desendants did just to get rid of their curses: a shame I thought, our land has always been inflicted with great wounds, but there are not many that have the will or kindness to heal them, instead of making them deeper. She then asked me if I was to pact with her, and I accepted. She asked me who I was, what I wanted from her and what I was willing to give. I waanted the power to heal my people of every harm that could come to them, and in truth, I was willing to give everything for that chance but that would not be a wise answer to give to any spirit, so as an equivalent exange, I offered my worship, my medical skill at the service of others and, in the future, to be the teacher of many other medics to come. Then I woke up, with the command from Akezo to build a shrine for her, and a renewed hope that our horde would be more safe, thanks to her power. Lup Akezo!

Fûthmoz [Lesser wind spirit to Fiarza, spirit of clouds and songs] Appearance/behaviour: - - - - - - - - - - - - An air elemental like figure taking any shape he wills with the use of clouds. Wind spirals around him constantly and would usually take the shape of a large bird like creature or a humanoid with long hair and beard when showing himself. His movements are constant like the air flowing around him and in his realm. His demeanour is mostly calm but shifts quickly depending the situation. Realm: - - - - - - - - - - Fûthmoz spirit realm would be a cloudy white area in the bright cloudy sky, no sun would be in the realm and it would have tornadoes around connecting the clouds of above and below. Only grey floating mountain tops could be seen above a ''floor'' of clouds. Its appearance would change quickly due to the wind swirling around in it, carrying feathers and leaves from pacts, gifts and sacrifices. By Azfrai’Lur, conduit of the wind [Plummius]

~ The Pact of Love and Warmth ~ ___________________ In the spirit realm, two friends find themselves awakened, one filled with anxiety and nervousness while the other eagerly embraces the adventure that lies ahead. Guided by a snow fox with an orange gold tip at the end of its tail, they traverse through the ethereal plane, eventually arriving at a captivating sight—a dark forest illuminated with multiple bright lights. The fox would guide them to a quaint cabin, Paheti may know. As they approach the cabin, a warm glow emanates from within, casting a soft light on the surrounding trees. Peering through the windows, they catch a glimpse of an old leader who had passed away some time ago, known only by Paheti. Tahlia is diligently tending to a crackling fire, her presence exuding a sense of wisdom and serenity. The two friends watched from outside, as the fox suddenly disappeared, leaving them to contemplate their next move. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, they muster the courage to knock on the door. The door swings open, revealing Tahlia—the once familiar face she's known so well. Tahlia's eyes widened with recognition. “Karin’ayla…..paheti Oem’ii.” She’d speak Old Blah, although they would hear it in common. Tahlia brings Paheti into a warm, motherly loving embrace, before welcoming them inside. The atmosphere in the cabin is cozy and inviting, with the crackling fire providing a comforting setting. Tahlia radiates a sense of peace and contentment within the room easing Paheti’s sadness. “Uhm- Is this really you Tahlia?- Well my friend and I were brought here in search of a spirit named Jiya We lost the snow fox that led us here. And got a bit lost on where to go” “You mean this snow fox?” She would gesture to the farseer sipping tea nearby, she sits at the table calmed within her environment. “Ah- Well would you have any clue where this spirit is?” She’d sit nearby as she’d ask the Tahlia questions, as the night unfolds, they'd forge a deeper connection, they'd share memories of the past, soon gaining comfort in the knowledge that she's departed from what was once life, and now lives on in a new way. And that this being they’d met, is the spirit they’re looking for. “Now that my truth's been revealed, Paheti my dear, do tell me why is it that you come here to this realm?” With ease, she’d explain her reasoning, as well as her goal within shamanism. “I’ve always been interested in the idea of being spiritually open-minded, my haelune was the reason why I followed within traditions to connect with others, pray and appreciate my ancestors and loved ones When I joined the Kanavainua seed. It brought me closer to the practice of protecting my spirit and tuning into our inner selves, which I failed to follow after sometime of losing those close to me and being focused with the external life.” She’d release a heavy exhale, as it saddens her how life has distracted her from what matters the most. She’d close up her reasoning.. “I would like to return to what is true peace in mind, and that is why I'm here.” “So this person you once called your Leader.. Did she show you the way? ” The spirit asked. “I sense a connection deep within you, sun elf child, you quelled the fear and worry, as I smothered you in my motherly embrace. Is that something you wish to share as well?” Paheti would look to her friend, soon back to spirit. Remembering the loving hug given, the feeling of the released sadness and confusion lifted from her soul, she’d reply. “Ti! For the longest she's guided me the right way and here I am, I would want no other than to share this feeling with others I care for.” She’d squeeze her friend's hand, bringing her other to her chest, meaning what was said. “Love has gone cold- and hearts have dried to the point of not pouring enough love. The desire to share your inner ray of light to those who shall not deceive you. Do you seek this desire as well as warm them and hydrate them, so that they may foster fruits of true love and care?” The farseer seemingly continued to sip her tea, simply enjoying the wonders of an empty tea cup and imagination. Paheti doesn’t hesitate to reply, reflecting on how she already warms hearts with her cheerful personality. “Ti!” “Then go.. From this point forward, show that there are people that care, that love is not gone within this world. Go and show the world that I, Jiya- lesser of Isuz, wander these lands” The spirit approaches her, with the tone for demand she says. “Build me a shrine in my name, and bring me one more follower for when you have mastered my powers, and I shall give you the key to more” After being said.. Their eyes blur until dark, their vision would daze back into existence within the mortal realm, their bodies gaining feeling as they have awakened..- ___________________

Symbol of the spirit Ka'tau, personification of universal law. The Book of Ka’tau Divinely inspired stories and tales of the Rah’mun peoples, translated from the writings and speeches of the prophets, lector priests, and Pharaohs. Translated and Delivered by: Atemu-Ta Amun Prophet, Voice of Ka’tau, Sword of the Ra’tuhmet, Pharaoh of Rah’tuma Book 1: Creation story. The following tale has been passed down in the oral traditions of the Rah’mun peoples, who follow the faith of Ka’tau. Ka’tau is a spiritualist faith which affirms an animistic worldview. Adherents of Ka’tau believe in a single universal law of justice and harmony which binds all of existence together and takes many forms. The various spirits of the faith represent the different faces of Ka’tau, creating an endless list of entities which represent every facet of existence. The main three entities given credence by most practitioners of the faith are the Ra’tuhmet, an eagle-headed lord of eternal sunlight; Hesthor, a cow lady of pure waters, soul preservation, and bovine purging; and Kalthet, a lion-headed lady of grand strategy and Rah’mun battles. This story explains the Rah’mun origin story. The Rah’muns believe that before anything existed the universe was merely a void. Ka’tau herself, the personification of the universal law, brought forth the Ra’tuhmet as the first light which filled the void. The Ra’tuhmet then forged the stars, the world, and everything within it. At the edges of this void emerged Kalthet and Hesthor, who both claimed different aspects of the newly created world. The Creation story contains the emergence of Keop, the mortal enemy of Ka’tau, and Iblees and his general Kazul and their activities against the early descendants. This book is considered the most sacred of all the Rah’mun texts and is essential reading for any followers of the faith. All should read and understand with the fullness of their heart this sacred story. The text [links here]: Book of Ka'tau: Creation. OOC:

"A race with the wind" By Plummius. ------========@[🌫]@========------- 'As Azfrai and her friend Minto woke up they felt the moving wind on their face, as they looked up and a hoard of clouds was moving, riding the very same wind the felt upon them Azfrai began to look around discovering they sat on the top of a mountains, around them were several other mountains with the wind racing between them. delighted Azfrai would get up feeling the air around her, straching her arms sideways she took a deep breath and with a long sigh and a smiled carved up her face she said to Minto "Wi ahm here". 'A short while after the two have gotten sense of where they are, Azfrai would call out to the spirit occupying this realm "Fiarza!" and not long after the wind around them shifted its route, beginning to form a clear path that leads them to an area at the bottom of the mountain the two would follow, Azfrai in a rush would almost glide down as Minto followed. As the two arrived to the bottom the wind shifted again! showing them a clear path followed by the clouds above them to a certain mountain where at its peak the clouds would circle in an almost inviting way. Azfrai told Minto "Well peepz like we have to klimb." Quick to answer Minto said "Aye!". Azfari would notice the hight of the mountain and would kneel in-front of the halfling saying "Latz klimb on mi back, mi will help latz klimb." with a firm nod and a quick swoop Minto easily climbed on the fe-orc's back before she began to climb upwards. Not long into the travel upwards the wind shifted again! with a sound that resembled a chuckle, the two would find themselves at the bottom of the mountain once more, confused the two exchanged looks before Azfrai let out a chuckle of her self, "Latz gruk that iz funny huh fiarza?" - "well, how about we race to the top then?" The wind calmed as Azfrai made the suggestion, almost like thinking for a bit before the clouds that were circling the mountain rushed down as they changed their purpose now at the bottom with Azfrai and Minto, Azfrai said "Minto, maybe lat zhould wait this azh out?" he quickly answered with a smile and determination "Nd miss 'oll te fun?" He would place him self at a ready posture along with Azfrai. Switching her gaze from the clouds to Minto she yelled "Ready?" - "GO!" The ''three'' raced upwards with speed, yet as expected the spirit won with Azfrai second and Minto trailing behind the two reached the top. As Minto cought up reaching the top the clouds were beginning to take form of a silver grey bird quickly morphing into a humanoid figure of a female, her feathers still attacked to parts of her body she began smiling, dancing around the two Fiarza inspected Azfrai now dancing in-front of Azfrai. With a wide smile and an urge to dance with the spirit Azfrai asked "Lat nub recognize mi?" the spirit stood for a second upon closer look her face brightened up Fiarza spoke in the old language "Yub mi do, blezzed azh, azh who carried my blezzing zince birth." - "Wub iz lat purpoze here?" Azfrai thought for a minute, yet sure enough with her feelings she said with a calm yet joyful voice "Mi wizh to be latz vezzel, untether mi-zelf from the earth agh zhow otherz latz ztrength." The spirit stopped dancing, she took Azfrai's hand gently with her voice echoing through the realm she spoke "The do zo, teach them all, give them latz wing. my blezzed azh, zhow it," And with those words Azfrai's tattoos began glowing faint blue grey color, air circling around her the spirit began to leave with the same dance chuckling, with that slowly the tattoos dimmed and the air calmed till none Azfrai left the realm with a pact and purpose. ------========@[🌫]@========-------

Anghkul Spirit of Metal Refinement [Under Kulthark] The young smith found herself in darkness. With no clue of her whereabouts, no clue of what could happen, her only anchor to reality being her mentor in front of her, tt wouldn’t take much however, that a loud roar of flames lights up their surroundings with a reddish color, the smith’s vision blurred for a moment, as the place is revealed. Tink, tink, tink. The constant sound of tireless blacksmiths hammering with precision against heated metal filled the air, together with an extreme heat, unbearable. Molten magma flowed from wide channels, aiding their unstoppable crafts. A gargantuan forge, bigger than most cities, that’s the place they ended up visiting, entirely made of metal and ores, but for the elfess smith that felt like home, she couldn’t hide her excitement and curiousity, guided by her mentor, until… “IZG ZAUG'AANGHUM TURKÛRZ DULUG” A booming voice struck them as they approached an immense tower, shaking the elfess soul with that ancient tongue, unknown to her. Before them, a colossus of a humanoid completely made of raw ores, featureless and with no recognizable body form. Various hammers held by tendrils that constantly smithed onto anvils, creating artifacts upon artifacts. The mentor translated to the young smith: “It speaks of finding the perfect artifact; the perfect creation. Step forward, my student. See it with yourself, I shall only be your translator.” Tink, tink, tink. The spirit glared towards the duo, stretching forward towards them, unnaturally, yet they didn’t stop their craft. His featureless gaze fixed upon the young smith, it inquired in that same ancient tongue he spoke, translated: “WHAT ARE YOU?” For a moment, the elfess is filled with awe, was that… fear? For just a moment, there was just the constant sound of a thousand smiths, the crackling flames of the forge, the molten metals slowly moving towards the furnaces… But the young smith couldn’t let this moment go in vain, there was no place for fear, she shrugged it off, and so she spoke, fearless: “Hello!” The young elfess greeted with simplicity, as if the spirit was an equal to her, a booming chuckle resonated within the forge… But still the smith did not falter, she introduced herself, catching the spirit’s interest: “ANGHKUL” The spirit told their name to the smith, and so they spoke. They found their common goal, a quest for perfection, a path of constant improvement, seeking the perfect alloy, and the perfect weapons. An agreement was found, and a pact was made. Tink, tink, tink. The elfess was encased in molten metal, becoming a statue, a process so painful she couldn’t even scream, but she accepted that, she did not resist. She felt a deeper connection into her soul, she was now bound to the spirit, she was accepted.

[!] The massive Codex, bound in aurum and jet black leather, is stamped with a crimson Skaddernak. Dense pages of cane parchment within are expertly bound using silk cords, and many sheets at the end of each section are left blank for future entries. Blocky yet precise script is legible to all races in common. [!] The Conceptual Compendium: Spirits Elemental agh Immortal Introduction Over the years, Kor'garr has found many children of Krug grow up without proper knowledge of the Spirits. Such a lacking education is more fitting of Nub-Uruks or Trialwalkers seeking Honorary status, those who must be introduced to Orc Kulture rather than being raised in it. To rectify this as Skriptgoth of the Horde, Kor'garr has compiled the many records of San'Velku's Library of Theruz into a single lexicon of spiritual enlightenment, flavored by first fist accounts from miself agh shamans that have met these spirits. This is not a complete list. Some names and realms have not been sought out for a pact in centuries, and some Spirits simply represent dishonorable concepts Kor'garr will not praise with detailed descriptions. That being said, shamans with unmentioned records or details are welcome to seek me out and share their findings! Kor'garr will add to this massive tome as years go on. May the spirits guide lat on the path of Truth to greater understanding. Kor'garr the Clanless, Skriptgoth of the Iron'Uzg Year CXXXI (131) of the Dubth Age OOC NOTE THE ELEMENTAL SPIRITS Akathro - Spirit of Water Bregthar - Spirit of Earth Fiarza - Spirit of Air Kulthark - Spirit of Metal Neizdark - Spirit of Storms Skathach - Spirit of Fire THE IMMORTAL SPIRITS Akezo - Spirit of Healing, Vitality, and Health Amul – Spirit of Wisdom and Foresight Ankrus - Spirit of the Seas, Marine life, and Seafaring Anyhuluz - Spirit of Destruction, Malicious Intent, and Internal Strife Arwa- Spirit of Fertility, Farming, and Harvest Aztran - Spirit of the Sun, Stars, and the Ethereal Betharuz -Spirit of Alcohol, Cactus Green and Celebration Brimztra - Kor'garr knows nothing of this Spirit, aside from their name. Dazkur - Spirit of Protection and Loyalty Drelthok - Spirit of Sleeping and Dreams Eathruz - Spirit of Dawn and Dusk Enrohk - Spirit of Bloodlust, Savagery, and War Etna - Spirit of Melancholy and Depression. Freygoth – Spirit of the wild, animal instinct, and Flora/Land Fauna Gazigash - Spirit of Blood, Bones, and Flesh Gentharuz - Spirit of Smithing, Smelting, Industry and Forging Ghorza - Spirit of Travel, Movement, and Fortune of all kinds Glutros - Spirit of Greed, Gluttony, and Excess Ikuras - Spirit of Fear and Insanity Isuz - Spirit of Love, Caring, and Tranquility Ixli - Spirit of Forbidden Knowledge, Truth, and Judgement [The entry below is scorched and completely illegible] Jevex - Spirit of Order, Hard Work, and Self-Sacrifice Kesaroth - Spirit of Envy, Hatred and Jealousy Kezt - Spirit of Honour and Bravery Kinul - Spirit of Disease, Pestilence, and Failure Kor - Spirit of the Dead, Gatekeeper to the Stargush. Kotrestruu - Spirit of Memory and the Recording of Knowledge Krathol - Spirit of Pain, Suffering and Starvation Leyd - Spirit of Dominance and Physical Strength Luara - Spirit of the Moon Ogrol - Spirit of Despair, Sapped Strength, and Entrapment This being is not one to be mentioned in Honorable conversation. Kor'garr will not dwell upon them. Paxahru - Spirit of Arrogance and Stupidity Ramakhet - Spirit of the Desert, Barren Lands, and Sand. Shezept - Spirit of Revenge, Plots, and Stealth This being is not one to be mentioned in Honorable conversation. Kor'garr will not dwell upon them. Scorthuz - Spirit of Cleansing, Purity and Purging Theruz - Spirit of Intelligence and Learning A bright mind balances a resilient body, and Theruz's domain encompasses the strength of wit and intellect soundly. Unfortunately, little is known about this spirit as few have taken the chance to visit their domain. The existence of a shrine in the Library of Barbog might be an opportunity for seekers of knowledge to learn more about this elusive entity. Trokorl - Spirit of Engineering, Machinery and Construction One of the less prevalent Major spirits, Tromorl is quite the subject of fanaticism for Goblin and Gnomish Tinkerers or workers of Animii and Smoggers. Aside from that, Kor'garr has heard little about this spirit. Ublulhar - Spirit of Hope and New Beginnings Kor'garr knows little about this spirit, strangely enough. Despite this, they are often praised after times of crisis or change, such as our arrival upon the lands of Aevos. Urin - Spirit of Weather, Seasons, and Climate Veist - Spirit of Illusion, Tricks, and Thievery. Velkumezt - Spirit of Cities, Settlements, and The Law Votar - Spirit of the Hunt Vulka - Spirit of Warfare, Strategy, and Siegecraft Concerning Lesser Spirits Kor'garr will add entries explaining the known lessers of various domains as mi hears of them. Shamans are especially welcome to discuss their experiences with meeting their patrons, and can contact Kor'garr using ag mailbox at the Kaktuz Weekli office within the Library of Barbog in San'Briu. OOC: References and sources

The Old Lur traveled far and wide with his ancient Lur Wolf as an independent unit unaware of the events that transpired in San Velku. The Orc and Wolf find themselves in a dark environment full of Netherrite, Falum watches under his darkened old hood as many other descendent refugees flood into the area. The elder kept himself away from the Mori as he kept himself isolated working on his studies and practices. He would exhaust himself regularly due to his old age, but had the work ethic to continue on. For so long he allowed his mind to be clouded and for it the ancestors have punished him to a great degree. Falum’Lur traveled between the many caverns and found many of the ancient anvils amongst other things. He found many of these sites peculiar, having interest in such ancient ruins & relics. When he returned to the underdark ruins he found that many he acquainted with were not of his kind; not of Krug’s lineage. Though he searched through the ruins there was no place he would find Orcs to be taking shelter in. During his search he reminisced upon his life many centuries ago when he was displaced from his home after an attempted genocide on Krug’s people and the court execution of his father, Vorgo’Yar. The shaman returned to the ruins as he sought an isolated meditation. The Ancestors have possessed and punished the elder’s mind for decades with the lack of piety within himself and the iron horde. The orc compels himself to think with great difficulty as he rests his blood-red eyes while his Lur Wolf roams the lands of Failor on its own for prey. His eyes snap open and he leans onto his feet using his old but large and strong muscles and says to himself. “Mi shall raise a Temple to those who came before us. Ash dat will nub ever be wiped from duh memory of cubs and even the spirits themselves shall exalt.”

“Could this be it?” Uruks continued to pass by her as she waited “I’m doing this for them, to restore our rightful path...finally.” “Come…” The giant Uruk-hai called to the she-Mali “A dream of darkness, was this it?” Pit…pat…tap Trickles of water began to fall upwards on the chin of the 'Solarii, she looked down to what could be the infinite void, but something rushed at her. Waves now began clashing upon her, a twister came forth dragging the elf along the ocean, the storm raged upon her surroundings. “BOROK!” she cried out, “YOU SAID TO TRUST YOU, SO HELP ME!” The ‘Solarii Princess looked around, no land in sight, no area to cling unto as she sunk under the depths, holding her breath as thunder clashed upon the waves, in it light resonated in the depths she saw something big, gargantuan. “Is that… ?” From afar the princess could see what would be a shipwreck as she fastened her self for a long swim. Upon the shipwreck she climbed and climbed up, thunder clashed upon the wrong which the ship was wedged into. The ship rocked as she took the mast, The Uruk Rex looking down on The Crown Princess ask “Is there a problem child…?” The Elf remarked with a very sarcastic tone “Problem no. Just one Issue, WHERE ARE WE?!” From her yells a sudden wave clashed upon the ship, and a giant hammerhead shark came forth in a glorious manner. “Amirz âhm lât, golug?!” (Who are you, elf?!) Thus the spirit roared, only to have the Girl retort "I wish to make a pact with you O’ Gran’grin Et-da Ma’er” The woman inquired, as she was found out of a secret, the child knew more than met the eye of the normal descendant. However, it was far from ceasy, as the spirit opened its maw, closing in on the pair, as the elfess accepted death, once more betrayed by those who she put trust in “Lât skûm ah-grîzh. Grîzh-lûb? Izg nork, lât flok.” (You smell of blood. Daughter of the Blood. I take, you give.) From it, the spirit examined the elfess with a sniff, as it asked and received a tribute to pass along the depths. “The immortal wants lat to give tribute, to offer something in exchange for power, daughter of the blood.” Thunder clashed once more as the ship began to fall, and so did she, as the she-elf braced for impact into the dark depths. From the depths, the girl saw what was a whale swimming upward to catch its meal. Thus the ‘Solarii embraced this. “Death….regret….I’m sorry my Ochem’ii” Within seconds the elf was swallowed hole and in the belly of the giant fish, however, within mere seconds she saw light, A final hope, the will to live drove her to swim faster than any person, mammal, or being in this world. And once she did she came to a cove, an aquamarine throne, and a Walking Hammerhead Shark. The Elfess' legs were jelly, she could not stand, nor walk as she attempted many times but fell to the floor, weighed down by the sea current which stuck to her calves. She fell on her knees as she looked at the spirit, The Rex in his spirit form came behind, as he sprung from the pool. “Izû hôn lât, bub’hôsh Ilzgûl. Izû thrak ah-golug. Grîzh-lûb.” ('We see you, great spirit. We bring Ember of the elves. Daughter of the Blood.') The hammerhead shark questioned, his voice coming from inside of Ember’s head. The spirit spoke in a language Ember knew not. Pondering she began to hear such spirit switch to common. “I wish to offer a part of me, to pact with you, To revive my ancestor's past, to bring back both the path of spiritualism and elements into our world.” The spirit Azmôrk, chuckled below as he now gazed the Uruk, saying a few words to him in blah. The Orkish Rex let out a snarl, annoyed. the elf turned to him asking. “Can’t be anything good, if your snarling…” The spirit huffed, her smart remarks were but inexplicable to her expense of what she came to the realm with. Her excuses were dull to him, and from it he approached the elfess. His stench reeked her nose as she tried her best to bear with it “He ask why do latz hold the power of blood.” The elf turns to the spirit, with a confident look, one also covered in fear. This was not like Kaira, nothing like her at all, instead she was dealing with soemthing more fierce, she understood the words Acria had told her before this walk, she under stood. “E’ use it to heal others, E’ used it to regrow my ears. E’ have not used it for anything more than that.” The spirit snarled and looked at Ember, as he spoke with a booming voice in their heads, but speaking Elder blah in front of them. “Kaal-Lûk âhm ah-grîzh. Hûnbûm-Lûk.” Azroth points to Borok, Ember turns “This one is a destroyer, the Blood fuels his wrath.” From it, the spirit offered his moist-gooed hand “Rise. Take my mark and receive my blessing. Spread my name far and wide as Azmôrk, elemental of the dark waters. Build me a shrine and followers to pact with me.” From such, she took his hand, as that happened, her lights fell from her head, and she sunk deeper into the darkness, as things began to feel more disconnected, however, she felt the waves now calm in her favor as Ember returned to her body Rad izû âhm âsh. (Now we are one)

Two figures stood beside each other before a fire, gouts of black smoke drifting into the air. One, a malflame-marred woman, sat down in the chair as the man beside her – a scarred Ork, prepared a herbal brew. The woman warily looked at the flames as they heated the pot, her tired eyes searching it as though attempting to scry into what might come of the journey ahead of them. “Fur latz first zpyritwalk … Whych du latz want tu peep?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as he dropped a bundle of herbs into the canister. “Mi grukking de zpyrit uv Ztrengt’ or Bluud. Latz chooze.” “Da zpyrit of Blood soundz interesting … Enrohk, da?” the Mali blinked, accepting the cup of tea as he settled beside her. “Da, let’z vyzit Enrohk. Hope wi nub be flatted t’ere, doh.” And so they did, and as their eyes came to close, they found their souls drifting from their mortal coils, and into darkness. The moment her eyes opened again, the woman found herself thrashing in a river of blood, attempting to claw her way upon a bank made of horrid sinew. The orc plucked her from the liquid and placed her on her feet with an affirming nod, and then set off without a word – merely motioning for her to follow. Enrohk’s realm was revolting; a crimson sky, and a land made of nothing but thews and flesh. Crooked, red trees absent of their leaves were erected here and there throughout the endless hills, but clearly not of natural origin. Cultists eyed them in passing, scowling beneath the shadow of their hoods. As they entered a cavern carved from bone, a voice rung out. “You have taken it upon yourselves to come ... so I pray it is in hopes to make a pact?” The two knelt, though that woman kept her head up, watching as the figure of a lumbering fe-Uruk made itself visible, covered in scars and healed lesions head-to-toe. “Ixula …” that spirit greeted, nodding to the shaman Ork. “Who is this one?” “My name is – mi nayme iz Yahzlak, yam an honorary, my … Lady,” the woman shakily spoke, as Ixula rose. Enrohk strode over with a chalice held in one hand filled to the brim with blood, and with each step, the ichor teemed and dribbled over the edge of the cup. “An honorary …?” Conversation ensued, and as they prepared to leave, the Spirit gave them a mission to carry with them if they wished to return. “You will; BOTH of you, will perform a ritual in my name, bones, blood, all spread onto my altar. You shall then return and curse the land, to make sure my influence is made known.” Before either of them could speak, the spirit dropped the chalice and blood splashed upward and soaked the two in red. Lightning split the sky and the pair sank through the ground as it disintegrated, violently throwing their souls back into the Mortal plane where their fleshen coils laid. Now began their work. Months later, Ixula and Yahzlak stood before an altar with Enrohk’s sigil carved into the stone; atop it, laid two dwarves chained tight upon it, eyes wide and mouths agape. The woman unsheathed a sword of glowing lilac metal and Ixula chanted prayer to the great Spirit of Blood, his lips curled into a grin as the sacrifice commenced. In ichor the two waded, of the dwarves’ and of some demonic black sludge, honoring Enrohk’s name.

— Alsahra' — Lesser Spirit of Desert Wind and Desertification “What good is oblivion if there is no one to praise me? I need followers who can withstand the winds of oblivion.” Physical Description The winds of oblivion manifest themselves in Alsahra’s appearance in many ways. They have no one solid body; instead, Alsahra’ is a collection of whirling sand clad in tattered burlap and cloth as their body. The sands themselves shift from one active part of the ‘body’ to another as though the collective of sand is not large enough to represent their entire body at any one time or fill their clothes completely for that matter. Alsahra’ does not have eyes, though they gaze through a polished bronze mask with convex lines. A meekly sized spirit, though very capable on their own as wind whips around them slightly, making a constant shroud of sand that obscures their appearance. Greater Spirit Allegiance Alsahra’ resides in the realm of Ramakhet, the Greater Spirit of the Desert, Barren Lands, and Sand. As such, Alsahra’ is generally trying to gain favor with Ramakhet. Alsahra’ does disagree with Ramakhet, however, on the premise of the destruction of all life and leaving the lands laid bare. Alsahra’ desires followers because they understand that their strength is equal only to the number of people praising them and therefore does not desire the death of all life. Still, Alsahra’ is often desperate for Ramakhet’s approval. Personality Best known for their persistence, Alsahra’ is steadfast in their aims yet too eager to succeed nonetheless. Often trying many quick paths to success only to fail and then try once more. This can be seen as desperation for bids of power or influence, but the followers of Alsahra’ see this as an expression of their will and often make excuses on the spirit’s behalf much to their glee. In this way, easily convinced so long as there is a bargain to be had and favor is then easily gained, but just as easily lost. Alsahra’ is a vain spirit, and demands perfection in their followers, furthering the reasoning behind the tenets that often serve as a reflection of Alshra’s own appearance or their strict standards of shrine construction. Follower Tenets Wear Bronze Mask The most apparent and visible sign of a follower of Alsahra’ is the bronze mask that is required for all followers. Though there is no standard of mask design, they often share some features of angularity and overall shape. Still, the mask is often a reflection of not only Alsahra’ but also the wearer’s biology and ancestry. A mask is sacred to the wearer and once a design is decided on by the follower; that is to say that they wear the mask so long as they remain in good favor with Alsahra’ and are a follower of them. The mask must remain in good overall condition and is only removed to eat, make love, sleep, and to polish or repair the mask. Carry Sand Sand generally refers to any granulated material that has been eroded, and through the use of a mortar and pestle could be anything, even the grit of precious gems. This sand is contained in a small pouch or other container, perhaps an ornate box, on the follower’s person and they carry a good amount of sand at all times. When greeting another follower of Alsahra’, the two mix a bit of their sand with the other’s sand as a show of unity. Be Self-sufficient A strong sense of nature and handicraft is well-looked on by Alsahra’. Some followers take up pottery, others artisanal crafts of various sorts. The commonality between all followers is that they are strong enough on their own to survive without the aid of civilization, as civilization will eventually be eroded through the sands of time. That is not to say that followers do or should actively want the downfall of civilization, the followers should, however, be prepared for the erosion of society: the active planning of contingency plans of sorts. A reflection of something that Alsahra’ often lacks — foresight. Followers Must Prove Worth Through Burdens Much like those who follow Kezt, the Spirit of Bravery, Alsahra takes great enjoyment in watching their followers be full of valor. Where they differ is that the killing of a great beast is equal to leading the village through a drought or famine. Alsahra’ asks their followers to conquer not only enemies, whether beast or mortal, but also to surpass burdens in their lives. The completion of these trials is often one of the fastest ways to garner favor with Alsahra’. In short, the followers must prove their worth by being able to withstand the winds of oblivion. Construction of Shrines Materials Needed x1 Campfire (3 Sticks, 3 Logs, 1 Coal) x1 Hay Bale (9 Wheat, place under the campfire) x4 Orange Banners (24 Wool, 4 Sticks, 4 Orange Dye) x4 Light Weighted Pressure Plate (8 Gold) x4 Acacia Signs that read: [!] Alsahra’s Sigil is Inscribed (12 Acacia Planks, 2 sticks) x9 Smooth Sandstone Slab (6 Smooth Sandstone) x16 Sand (16 Sand) Sigil Must be carved into sandstone or other sedimentary rock, no exceptions. Boons Alsahra’ is currently not able to give out boons.

Shamans, speakers to the Spirits. They hold the simple ability which allows them to speak to spirits, beings of immense power. What they ask and what they do normally depends on the Spirit's motive whether they are willing to aid or not. Due to this simple fact, shamans themselves could bless items to bestow upon others. Maybe to spread awareness of a Spirit? Perhaps to empower them by using a cursed item to torment a soul? The possibilities are endless due to the open nature of shamans and Spirits. One but needs to ask and plead, there is always a chance a spirit will answer, or not. Who knows? But the result can be items of Spiritual power that spreads wonder to the realm. Shamanism: Witch Doctor The Witches Cursed Trinkets As a Witch Doctor tends to create their curses into elixir or upon the soul itself. It is common practice or at least, once upon a time, for the good Witch Doctor to not inflict people or potions, but that of an item for whoever is unlucky enough to wear it. If they perform their ritual and curse an item such as jewellery. The curse takes its effect upon the jewellery and will linger until taken off. Mechanics - Follows the same mechanics of a witch doctor's ritual, requiring 5 emotes, 3 being in Old Blah and 3 emotes with physical actions followed by a roll. 3 different reagents are required for the ritual. - The cursed item must be made at the shrine of the related Spirit. Redlines - Requires a physical item that is ST signed. - Curses (spells) within the witch doctor's lore are the only cures that can be cursed to an item. - The item is required to inform what the curse will do alongside reference towards the lore and the Spirit cursed upon it. - This follows all mechanics of the Witch Doctors Ritual. - All cursed trinkets are required to have only one negative effect (bane). - Cursed healing and positive effects cannot be bestowed upon an item. Shamanism: Farseer The Blessed Trinket The Farseer, a shaman of blessings and wisdom. One able to bless creatures and plant life, but also items such as trinkets. Already able to create these “holy tools,” however, these tools hold sentimental value. They hold the ability to ask the Spirits, as all shamans can, to ask them to bless what they hold. Mechanics - Follows the mechanics of Shamanism Farseer's blessings. Requires at least 4 emotes to bless an item. 3 of which must contain Old Blah. - The item itself will be one of the blessings from the collection of blessing spells farseers hold in their respected lore. - The blessed item must be made at the shrine to the related Spirit Redlines - Requires a physical ST item that is signed. - This follows all mechanics of the Farseer Blessing of Empowerment. - The item is required to inform what the blessing will do alongside reference towards the lore and the Spirit blessed upon it. - This follows all the redlines and guidelines of Farseer's blessing, however. Upon an item. - Blessed healing cannot be bestowed upon an item. Shamanism: Lutaumancy The Ancestral Blessing The Lutaumen, being the shamans of the ancestors, hold a unique ability that grants them a voice to those who have passed in the Stargush’stroh. These voices tend to go unheard for there must be a Lutauman present. A Lutauman can request the voice of an ancestor if the spirit in question is to give their voice. The item inflicted can be used as a means of communication with certain ancestors. Mechanics - Follows the mechanics of Lutauman’s lore of Kor’s blessing. Requires at least 4 emotes total, 3 of which require Old Blah chants. - The item itself is required to be a physical link to that ancestor. Bones, blood, hair, etc. - The blessing of Kor will be directed towards the trinket to bless rather than taking to the Stargush'Stroh. The effects of the blessing will be applied. - The item should be made at the shrine related to the Ancestral Spirit or Kor. - Using the trinket requires a roll out of 10. Anything above 5 and the trinket can be used normally. Anything below, and the Ancestral will not show up. Redlines - The item will ONLY create a voice that the ancestral will inhibit. - The ancestral is not trapped to this trinket and can choose not to respond. - The ancestral will not be within the item during times of conflict (CRP/PVP). - The item is required to describe how the Ancestral will generally be. In simple, easy personality traits. - Anything other than an Ancestral speech blessed upon these Lutaumen trinkets, requires a MArt to be made. - Cannot have a trinket to speak to Krug or Greater Ancestors. They are too powerful. - OOC proof of consent can be used instead of the roleplay bones, blood, hair, etc. General Redlines - Once these items are removed from the person who is inflicted with them. So does the curse/blessing upon them. They are bound to the trinket. Not those who wear them. - All curses/blessings cannot be used as a combative edge unless the related curse/blessing lore states otherwise. If so, following the guidelines and redlines of the related Witch Doctor Curse, or Farseer blessing is a MUST. - Creative blessings/Curses. Require the use of the MArt system to get all the mechanics and redlines and what it does in detail. For both, the players and the lovely lore team. - Elemental maledictions and blessings are not allowed, these require MArt applications. - Shrines do not have to be ST approved. - A floral blessing/curse. Will be useless to a descendant that isn’t a plant matter based creature. - Can only curse or bless one item per OOC day, regardless of tier. - Items must be able to be held or worn, thus no items above handheld or wearable clothes. - Blessed trinkets and Lutauman trinkets will not respond/work to those who are not of the spiritualist faith

The Blood acted strange, not clear, not precise. The Path of the Targoth was always blurry, never easy for him to choose. Choices of moral, of honor, always putting his morals and honor after the wellbeing of his nation, of his people. Now that progress was coming their way, that the flames and ashes were going to soon replace water and wood, the young Haruspex had another choice to make. He thought it would be a easy one this time. Join progress, join fire and metal to burn down this disgusting forest or save it to protect a spirit he did not care for. Easy, yes. The uruk sat down in front of the Blood Pit, staring at the past present and future. Trying to see clearly to find his Path. He gave a chuckle as an elf's body appeared at the surface of the pit, floating amongst all the blood and gore. The Witch Doctor in training closed his eyes, trying to summon some spirits to help him with his choice. "Grizh tu flow, Grizh tu peep. Izi ahm un da Path, zhow izi wut tu du! Lup'Dlimbok, firzt of de Haruzpex! Lup da Heartbeat of da uzg! Troqugrizh-Ur!" The words the blood spoke to the burned orc were confused, different from before. The Heartbeat was not amongst them, Troqugrizh was silent for once. Borok growled in anger as he stood up and kicked into the blood pit, making it splash all over the walls of the little cavern. Rage, confusion, questions. For long, the jungle outside of their home had been a problem : Hiding undead and other beasts in it, stopping them from becoming what they were meant to be, better than some beasts living in tents and wooden cities. What was he to do? choose a side and risk fighting friends and family or step aside and let his Path unfold in front of him? The tall orc broke eye contact with the blood and starting going up the stairs. Back to the surface, to the sun, to the forest. Smoke was coming up in the sky from a previous fire spitter attack on the city, a sign maybe. A sign to join flames and ashes or be consumed by it. He knew what he had to do now, he knew his Path.