The Quest to find Regrets… ( part one.)

by minstrelofmyths Tue Mar 17, 2015 11:00 am

I met the others in the city that would be joining me on my quest in the city of Orgrimmar. We gathered the four of us, supplies the living would need on the journey, the clime is not suitable for all. I was hoping for Brix’tul and Kaz’kali to be able to join us, yet they may still be required by the Horde to finish tasks. I have not seen Ty’vek either, however I believe he is well in the company of his mate. Ma, does as she does and was not available. So it was I, Elle, the shaman Moj’akai, and elf by the name Tavi as he was introduced. A convenient portal was produce and we made our way to Zim’torga.

What I am looking for is regrets…. I have came to the realization it is not the priestess of Quetz’lun, I regret. I could not regret a moment she had captivated me by, I could not have regretted holding a brazer light in her name. If I cannot let her go, so be it. If I cannot stop obsessing over the lack of recall of the shade and of her eyes so be it, it is what I have left of that life. I do not believe I regret her presence in my mind. I believe it is a notion put on me by another that I regret her loss, because she is not lost if I carry her memory. I believe there is something more to be found.

Zul’drak.

Ah, my empire that I served, my life, my blood, my love, your warrior has come home! Buried under snow, she sleeps, my mother capital of Gun’drak, wind swept and silent she rests. The others cannot see it as I once had, besides Moj’akai being blind, the others with sight cannot see. The paint is faded, not only in my sights to that pallid grey tone, but to theirs, they do not see what it once held as I can within my mind. I let my raptor rest at the front of the walk, staring at what once was and what is now. The banners the color of blood waved proudly, the paint on the etched and carved stone vibrant, the song, the heart beat of my people triumphant. The city was bustling with, women, children, men, carrying their offerings to the loa and prophets coming to the epicenter singing praise, doing business in the markets. I could not help but smile, my blood moved, my heart returned home for that moment. My companions concerned about an ambling lost dire, a single soul that shuffled through the snow swept landscape, while I was lost in a moment of the past. I do not regret, what my mind spoke of here.

I had fought for these people, they were as much of themselves as they were me. We were one, we were the life blood that hemorrhaged out as Zul’drak fell. We perished together, for the cause, for life, for the ways we held dear, we strived for perfection and failed in our ways. It is the way of life, it is the way of all living things to struggle, endure and eventually die. It is the natural manner of all, that live. There are no regrets to be found in the capital, none in the lesser temples of loa that are gone. None at the shrine erected in my uncle’s memory. I do not know what I search for, but somewhere it is here, I will find it.

Within the Drakkari capital, is a massive place, with thick walls, tall guard towers and heavy gates. Inside, the buildings are tiered and covered in steps, and wind about one another like a nest of small animals, each fitting into the next. Many of the buildings have intricate carvings along the walls, and war trophies still are interspersed with old furs. The Drakkari were considered crude and violent by outsiders this was not true, there was order. Women and whelps handled most of the cleaning, food preparation and clothing needs. Those unfit for battle did manual labor or simple crafts. Chores are handled quickly and efficiently to make time for drinking, eating, rutting and combat. Warriors fought frequently, from mere wrestling matches to armed death duels, and brawls occurred almost at every meal. It was a glorious life and all had purpose, all had order and revelry, barbaric only in the eyes of outsiders. This capital, our heart still beats under the blanket of snow.

We entered the northern entrance near the den of Sseratus, winding our way down the ramp. The room served as a place to worship the god Sseratus, It’s still guarded by stray serpents. Captivated, as there were those in my family that had dedicated their lives to a loa that is no more. I attempted to show the value and magnitude of the once dedication. The stone pillars representing the spirit, the etched flooring done in jade, and the symbol of the unending snake with no end and many heads entwined with Talandra’s rose, the skylight above that illuminated the room, the worth of what had been forgotten. My regret was not here either, I only recalled visiting the shrine but a scant few times, but the significance was not lost on me as I had avoided the winged Quetz’lun’s altar…. History was here. I recalled paying homage to the loa with my brother’s mate and children, and Danawa, the first mate of my fathers, prayers, offerings, and reflection over the lost of the great warrior. They wept, but I did not regret his loss. Elder to me as he was I had looked up to his sacrifice in the name of his loa against opposing forces. I would do his name and family honor, I would become as glorious as he was in his life and death. I vowed even while young, that I would carry on his memory.

But those memories viewed by me, those thoughts were not carried by the others. They feared the place, they felt the unbalance, the whispering of spirits, the ones that were not at rest. Zor’din made himself present, and to my surprise the others, Elle, Tavi, and Moj’akai could hear him and see him as well. Ah, he entertained them while mocking my search. The spirit believes he has all the answers, decapitated as he is one would think it would humble him somewhat, yet in death he is still a know it all. Although he does have his moments of wisdom, he can be quite irritating the way he goes about it. He has a attraction for Elle, he always has since I first met her, he enjoys her humor. He will bother me to no end to get her coffee every day even if she is not present, I am to have coffee ready. I sit sometimes for hours on end to hold the mug, in wait while he speaks on her and her ways, excited to see her, it can become bothersome. Yet if a cup of coffee can appease him for a short while I do purchase it, even if it is to be an idle cup holder for an elf that does not arrive always in a timely fashion. I have my own reasons as well, as it is something she enjoys, and I do respect her. Zor’din is on another level, he gets quite upset when I make a comment at her expense, although he does feed me apt comments to reply with at times during conversations. I was not expecting the others to see him, let alone hear him… it was disturbing, yet with the focus on the spirit, I could investigate further within the capital. Elle seemed entertained, as did Tavi, my brother as well with the company besides myself. We continued, I showed them the residence of the slumbering serpent, in passing having waded through the bones of the sacrifices some willing and those not so willing. Elle seems not to care for snakes, I took note of that as she seemed… clingy. Yet I believe my brother lessened the toll of the of what may seem disturbing to her as well as the mage with his antics.

Mam’toth was the loa god of mammoth for my people. When they tried to steal his power, he destroyed himself and all those around him, resulting in a crater. Yet his altar remains within the capital, his tusks still have rings of gold, his idols are present, the cave leading to the chamber intact as for the coloration on the flooring I believe it was gold inlaid but I cannot recall the exact coloration. All of which paid the spirit respect still is present, hollow and empty, but it remains. I recall my father attending to the shrine within the city’s heart, and spiritual center when he lost sons, his mates would attend to their own spirits but my father would go there. My father was much like the catalytic Mam’toth, destroying all that would be in his way, regardless to what they meant, friend, foe, if he felt threatened they would be trampled under foot. One thinks of strength when they think of the mammoth, head strong, willing to take spears, a warrior’s spirit, but it is but a presence an aspect of strength, the weakness is within. Mammoth did not want to share his power, eager to wear the gold, eager to be adorned with the finery of what the living had to offer, stripping down trees until they were barren. A spirit of might makes right… Although as all the spirits they were right not to share the power, it was when he sacrificed himself in the manner in which he had that it did not matter those innocents that worshiped him were taken out with him as he struck down those that would oppose his will, much like my own father had done with his own actions. I never cared for the loa, I only passed through his chamber, he was not my spirit he held nothing for me, his loss was great to those that had served him. Rhunok, is who I served… He would not be found here, or anywhere as he too is gone from this plane of existence.

We moved onward, having to cross water to get to the bridge of the Pool of Twisted Reflections the path connects the areas where we visited the tomb of the ancients, those fallen kings, and chiefs that forever reside above the serpents tail and ritual chamber of Akali together. Akali, the rhino, many furs of the rhino once donned my home, formidable beast. At one time, when the animals were not tainted by the scourge, or drove to the far ends of the continent they were plentiful, and of course held value. The spirit rivaled mam’toth, not for sheer size and will, but aggression. This spirit was raw power, as well, and many warriors and kings worshiped his tread. The reflective pools are fed by cascading falls, from spouts out of the mouths of statues that represents the elder ancients and prophets in their wisdom and strength, passing onward those visions and plans they would guide future generations. The center circular mosaic a master piece of art, as well as a journey of the pilgrimage of those that journeyed to discover the truths the loa had for them. Four great statues in the center, the mammoth, the rhino, the serpent, and that of the guardian colossus fueled by a blood stone which the priests gave blood and mojo to fill, it’s purpose was to protect the inhabitants of the ritual center. All in which are gone, yet immortalized by stone idols, and text. Which Tavi seemed interested in by making a rubbing of on a parchment, and that which Moj’akai read with his seeing touch.

We continued onward to visit Akali, the rhino…. The ritual chamber of Akali is the largest chamber in Gundrak it was used for worshiping the primal god. The god that made kings if one was born in the season of Akali. A personality, that was aware of power yet used it wisely, the ability to lead, to charge ahead into the unknown. Pure gold idols that remain, untouched by thieves. Yet a fate… as all fell so did he… He was a loa detained by the prophets and those that had followed him in chains, as his power was siphoned from him to feed those in power. The tortures the spirit endured from his own followers was something all of those loa had gone through as they were betrayed. The king maker fell, but first showing his might killing dozen of his subduers, yet the prophet killed the spirit while the rhino was distracted. I had a brother that was born under the moon of the Akali, he could have been a great leader, yet he too like many of us died in the service of our empire. Head strong he was, as all of us were, he took on the burdens without complaint and died honorably. There was a great feast in his honor, that many of the higher ranks attended to, drink, women, music and revelry all in memory of him. My uncle attended the service proud of his sacrifice, they had been close in life as he was much older then I was at the time, I do not believe I had finished training during the period nor had my first display of prowess. I believe they fought together in many battles before the fall of the gods, but the recollection of that is vague, only that they had held a kinship remains in my memory. Yet there were no regrets here.

Elle, Tavi, and Moj’akai warmed in the pools…. Zor’din mentioned to me that they were seeming weary, and too exposed to the elemental influences that I should recommend a break from our travels. I did, and spoke of my uncle’s residence at the altar of Har’koa as their needs could be provided for, such as food, drink, warmth, and a place they could rest. We ventured there, settled in by the fire and conversed with my uncle. Zor’din is still convinced it is the priestess I regret. Raji’din and the shaman spoke of speaking to the spirits to see if in fact she remains they could attempt to find closure for me. I do not believe this is the case, I believe it is something else. I do not wish to disturb that which is at rest until I know for certain. Pursuant they were on the topic until I spoke of these concerns of not wishing to proceed. I will find it, it just will take time for me to discover. I could search on my own, but I do enjoy the company as well as sharing my pride over what splendors I recall, even if they do not see as I once beheld this land in. Elle brought up a question that held my curiosity, speaking on emotion, if I can feel pain, and agony, regret there is a potential for more. Although she is unaware that those depths of reaching emotion was broken from most of us when our souls were ripped from our deaths only to feel as our new master designed us to feel. Yes we were freed from his grasp, that punishment ensues as a boundary what is pleasant to feel is our pain and agony, and what is torturous is the contrary. I do not know if there is more beyond what is, nor what it will take to breech the walls already in place. It is something to further examine and pursue if at all possible without becoming unstable. Tavi also enlisted his service with my uncle and his goals at the time. I watched as Elle grew tired and fell asleep. Zor’din was of course on me to make her comfortable so I attempted to appease all as far as that went and when things quieted and the living began to rest I began writing in the journal.

If they wish to stay as they spoke, my friends in support of me in my quest I plan on visiting Quetz’lun altar tomorrow to investigate if my uncle, Zor’din, and Moj’akai are correct that it is the priestess’s spirit that haunts me in regrets. They may journey with me if they so desire, or return as they wish. Yet I plan on continuing for at least one more day before returning to my post. I must include a trip to Sholazar Basin as I promised tropics to conclude the trip. Which I believe at least Elle will enjoy more then the snakes.

by **Elsee** Wed Mar 18, 2015 7:06 pm

LOOOOOVE this. So sad we had to miss it! ))

The Quest to find Regrets… ( part one.)

The Quest to find Regrets… ( part one.)

Re: The Quest to find Regrets… ( part one.)