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Firelight atop the old tower


Volonazra

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Winterveil closes in upon Azeroth. Most know the this is a time of renewal and celebration of many traditions. The air grows colder and the nights grow longer. As most of the clan slumbered or hudled inside near the hearth, a wee imp crept in to camp. Little Grimlos slinked and slithered about camp, making his way to his masters lair, wary of the guards that might not recognize him and hassle him. (Grimlos thought: Grimlos hates peon guards. Grimlos not plaything for smelly Crushers. Grimlos put curse on them. Heehee) He had to clamp both claws over his mouth to prevent his giggling from alerting anyone.

It had been some time since he had been home. His master sent him home to light the signal fire atop the old tower and inform the apprentices to begin the ritual of return. Once inside he set to work as he was commanded. The old dark tower was brought back to life once the fires were lit. Grimlos then took this opportunity to make himself at home inside the inner sanctum. "Ahh" he sighed "Grimlos is the master of the tower now." What to do, what to do he thought. "First Grimlos find masters tome of succubus command" he said slyly. He wondered if would three succubus be too many? Heehee "Master will never know" he said wringing his claws and laughing maniacally.

The bonfire atop and the smaller signal fires about the tower could be seen a good distance even from Camp Skullcrusher. Shadows moved upon the tower and grounds around it as the flames flickered in the chill night air. It seemed as if the shadows were perhaps dancing.

Time will only tell what renewal Winterveil brings this year. One thing is certain, one old orc is trying to come home for the holiday.

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Yawning sleepily Guilozak stumbled out of his tent. Another day had come and it was time to get moving. Looking around at the pale morning he saw a strange sight . . . a fire had been lit on top of the old tower.

"hmmm, dis be a strange ting mon . . . I wonda . . ."

A sly smile crossed the trolls face. It felt like ages since the old orc had left this world through the Dark Portal but his memory remained in Guilozak's heart and mind as it did in those of all his fellow Skullcrushers. It would be good to see him again . . .

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A sentry totem placed outside a tauren's tent twitched as the imp passed by, signaling to the sleeper inside that an intruder was close. The tauren huffed and shook her mane at being roused from a restful sleep. Slowly, she woke and threw a fur around her shoulders as she lifted the tent flap and stepped outside in the crisp air. Raeda looked around and was startled to see a fire alight on the old chief's tower. She frowned, but her expression softened when a dancing imp was seen outlined in the flamelight. Chuckling, she went back into her tent, and with a longful glance at her furs, still warm from her body heat, she gathered her shamanistic tools around her and sat on the mat in the center of her tent. Sleep will wait for another night, now was the time to ask the spirits of how an old orc fared.

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A small bunny rabbit hops onto Amahli's chest, awoken by some sounds of rustling about the camp. The druid opened her eyes, stretching out with a yawn. "Whatsit, Fluffers? Hear somethin'?"

Amahli, who had layed to rest just outside her small tent, looked up at the old tower. She frowned and tilted her head. "Huh, didn't know someone lived up there." Yawning again and patting the small bunny, Amahli rose to her feet and walked inside her tent, closing the flap behind her as Fluffers followed. The druid lay down and covered herself with a hide. "Nothin' ta worry about. Now go back ta sleep."

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"Grrrump", "Grrrump", "Grrump!"

Gordantell rises, shaking the sleep from his eyes.

"What is it Boy"?

Awoken by the bears warning Gordantell rises slowly from his mat. "A friend you say? Hmm."

Gordantell peaks his head out of his tent scanning the ground.

"Imp tracks, leading off to Volo's old tent."

Suddenly the watch tower alights casting an ominous glow over the camp.

"Skah, he returns."

Gordantell shuffles back into his tent and falls back into his cot. Windcheater thumps down beside him a low growl caught in the big bears throat.

"Get some sleep old friend, we're gonna need it"

-Gordantell

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As Huato passed by the Crusher's camp he notices the lights atop the tower and a glimmer of hope rises. He gently pats his Frost Wolf on the head and tells him that he can't wait to see the old smelly Orc again.

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Vrugz had left the Council Hall and began to head toward the ominous looking structure known as the Warlock's Den. The council had been in deliberation for hours regarding the strange trinket the fool shaman, Uglutz, had brought before them. He had claimed it was some great artifact of untold power stolen from the alliance. Uglutz called the device a "yo-yo". The council had ended with having to cut Uglutz out of the device, as with attempting to demonstrate its power, had completely wrapped himself up it its entangling rope. This time, the fool shaman was correct; the device was indeed powerful. If only they could reverse engineer this powerful magic and use it towards their own ends.....

Approaching the great steel door of the Warlock's Den, Vrugz knocked on the door three times, paused, then knocked twice more. Nothing happened. Vrugz knocked again, this time four times followed by two times. Someone on the other side of the door knocked back once and then five times. Growling with rage, Vrugz began to kick the door yelling "Me gib sekrut nok! Open da door!".

A sniveling voice from the other end of the door growled back, "Sekrut nok dub nokz! Den nok fibe timez!" Vrugz then knocked as he was told, four times followed by one knock. "Dat nub it!" someone again yelled through the door. "Dat nub da sekrut nok!"

"Me gib sekrut nok! Me nok ash time! Den me nok dub timez!" Vrugz yelled in rage.

"Uki, dat da sekrut nok!" someone replied through the door. Within moments the sound of great metal locks began to unlock and the door swung inward allowing Vrugz passage. Bowing low, a young warlock peon glanced around to see if anyone else was about the exterior of the compound. Seeing they were alone, he quickly slammed the door after Vrugz had entered.

The interior of the Warlock's Den was very dark, as one would expect. Runes glittered on the interior walls, holding some type of deep and evil magic (the goblin engineer's had sworn the runes were indeed dark magic, but in reality it was nothing more than flourescant paint with a black light). Entering the main chamber of the den, Vrugz grinned at those present. In the center of the chamber was a slightly deformed shape of a denzien of the depths. Nearly half a dozen warlocks circled the summoned creature, mumbling spells and incantations to remove its power, holding the demon in place, while other warlocks questioned the pet.

"Mastah! It ib true! Da old cheef hab been found!" cried one of the peons. "Da demon hab contakted hem!" Nodding his head in satisfaction, Vrugz sat in the corner chair that was shrouded in blackness and proceeded to watch the inquisition of the demon.

Volonazra had entered the portal many moons earlier, and they had not had contact with him since. Only by sheer luck had the warlock brotherhood been able to call forth a demon from Outland, who indeed had heard of their former chief. As Vrugz quietly contemplated their next course of action, alarm bells rang out from within the Warlock's Den. Rising to his feet, he ran toward the sound of the disturbance.

"But hem gib sekrut nok! How hem gruk da sekrut nok if hem nub a shadowmastah?!" screached the sniveling doorman as another warlock beat him mercilessly with a blunt object.

"Wut wrung? Wut goin on?" questioned Vrugz.

"Dis heer panzie let in dat sneek'r! We smak'd dat sneek'r on da noggin' and chazed hem out!" The warlock turned back to the door guard and continued beating him, each time stripping the skin from his back. It appeared it was a close call, the rogue had been turned away before he had seen too much. Vrugz also took a turn beating the door guard. They had invested too much time and energy into their plans. It was imperative that nobody knew of their actions before they had figured out how to enter the dark portal and once again reunite with their brother Volonazra.....

Edited by Martok
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As the hunter wandered briefly into camp to stock up on supplies he noticed the light burning on the old warlock's tower. It had been many months since a light had shone on that tower and it could only be one thing. "Da Mastah be kumin home," he stated as he patted the wolf named after the old warlock. After gathering up his belongings, he began the long trek towards the Blasted Lands and the Dark Portal.

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Another sleepless night for the Mage... There were many as of late. With the Clan having grown - it was often a lonely midnight that Maube would be sitting looking over maps and charts. As always - her Second - Verissi pointed to a smudge that looked remarkably like an Orc's greasy fingerprint.

"We've had 5 complaints this week alone about the stench coming from that tent. Either we have to trench off Uglutz' living quarters - or move these tents to the other side of the camp. Already we are exceeding the land Thrall granted us."

Maube sighed and rubbed her temples - leaving a smudge of dark ink on the wax preserved skin. "Uglutz... Damn Orc... never knew anything LIVING could have a smell so pungent. Even us Forsaken do not smell so foul in our last stages of decomposition..." She shook her head sighing. "Well we have two options... pace out more land and petition the Warchief... or hire some Ogres to make a mound to hide that foul beast in."

A grin split her lips... Uglutz was a dear companion and a very fierce fighting companion - but his smell... was legendary. Verissi nodded and motioned to a section outside the western borders of the camp.

"I believe the Warchief knows of Uglutz... maybe we can ask for this land here," a long delicate finger traced the area, "Although it is awfully close to that Tower..."

Maube frowned and then shrugged, "The Warlocks are used to foul smelling magiks... I dont think they would notice..." Glowing orbs turned out of her tent - focusing on the dark tall object that was revered by so many Crushers... Volonazra's Tower. A flicker of light caught her eye and she grinned. Her dreams - albeit few showed rituals and sigils to use to reopen the Dark Portal. She would have to talk with the Warlock Council, maybe they could contact the old Warlock...

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