Joined: 27 Jan 2006
Location: Near "Philly", USA
|Posted: Tue Oct 28, 2008 9:32 am Post subject: A few words, from an old shaman (reaction to the invasion)
|*An echo of wolven howls call the tribe together in garadar in nagrand. By the great bonfire in about the middle of the village, an old orcan shaman walks slowly as he waits for his brothers and sisters to arrive. Soon they begin to arrive. There was plenty of food and drink to be had by everyone. And the old shaman marveled at the many faces that he had never met, and this brings a small smile to his face as he paces. A larger smile comes from seeing brothers and sisters that he did know, and haven’t seen in too long of a time.
By his side are two spirit wolves materialized into the physical, and with a bit of flair, the old shaman begins to speak. His voice is deep in tone, yet still strong despite the apparent onset of age. His hair has gone gray, and he keeps it long, yet bound to stay out of his way. His beard has grown longer then some might have remembered him keeping it. Into the great fire he throws in powdery mixtures. The great flame of the bonfire burns with a flash of many colors, then puffs out a continuous dark cloud of smoke. The smoke dances in the air, and seems to linger, and then it begins to form images seemingly in coordination to the words the shaman speaks.*
“Brothers and sisters of the Tribe. Lok’tar and thank you all for coming. I hope you forgive an old orc in the length of his talking. In the days ahead, I fear that the needs of this coming time will drive us from meeting together in such numbers too often. There are many of you that do not know who I am. And although this shames me, it also makes me glad. For it has proven a point once made to a fellow orc named badlander who challenged me with the thought that this tribe would die without me. But the truth has prevailed….
It mattered not what happened to me, but the tribe would continue to grow and prosper. And like the vision foretold, so has it become. Packs of this tribe now scatter the known worlds as a protective force for those that live there.
I am Tran’nok, son of Thul of the Free Frostwolf Tribe of Azeroth; Descendent of the Mag’har of the shattered world now known only as the outland. By some called the first wolf of the Tribe of the Bad Moon Rising.
I return from my calling by the spirit wolves who I hunted with and I wandered the world again. I see the line of the tribe back to the beginning in Durotar when the first four met. In the wolf pack there is always an alpha male and alpha female. So it was with us. I remember, Algora, the first den mother, and Shifty of the trolls. I see Redwater who still hunts with you all. I remember, and I see the first council of elders. I see the words of prophesy has rung true, and it was a forsaken that saved this tribe. I thank the Alpha Keryn who leads you all to such growth and victory. I also see a world, I do not really know. I see a tribe that I feel in spirit, even if I don’t know all the names of my brothers and sisters. I see the growth of the few to the many. I see the return of old gods, elemental lords and of insects and stranger visions. And yet, I see the things that have not changed the most.
The tribe was born out of a vision: The strength of the wolf was the pack. The strength of the pack was the wolf.
No matter what evils rise up over the horizon and look down with plans of dominance and pain, of destruction and death… that there would be that which stands before them. It is our unity that makes us strong, and our individual strengths that allow us to overcome all that we might face. I have seen this in my few hunts returned to you. I know it to remain the one unifying truth of this tribe. We stand with blade and hammer, with fire and frost, with claw and fang, with strength and wisdom united in this common purpose that this world deserves to be protected. That our brothers and sisters of the tribe and those that would stand with us will stand against every bad moon that seeks to rise.
I have also heard the words of fear howled out into the night among us. That our leaders must to more, that groups must come to the forefront. That perhaps there is only today and death awaits us tomorrow. These are all truths. For death always waits to show us our final place among the line of ancestors. And it will always be needed for some to stand first so that the leaders of the horde may soon join us. There is nothing wrong with fear. It makes the senses sharp, the mind focused. I say to you all Lok’tar. Strength and honor. For that is what I see. The strength to stand, and the honor to face what may come. To know that courage at its’ very heart is fear. But facing such and doing what must be done regardless of such fear. This is what courage is.
The spirits say the betrayers born of both worlds, the one of my ancestors and the one adopted by my parents before me, now comes again.
The winds howl and say that winter has come again; that the tribe will be tested once more. All of your experiences has brought you to this point.
I say let winter come. It is the time to hunt, and it is an honor to for this old orc to put on armor, and take up axe, to call upon the elementals and the spirits and join you in this hunt.
May the spirits of the tribe guide us all to victory.”