[RP Event]: Gun’magosh – Storm, earth and fire.

He knew that the morning chill would not last long. Nazrug had spent enough time in Durotar to know that once the sun rose up above the red sand-stone mountains that the earth would warm. It would be another dry and harsh day in the rugged land that had become his home.

The howl of a wolf sounded far into the distance, He stood up and walked over the edge of the cliff peering down into the morning haze. The day was beginning and already the heat was taking hold of the earth. He had been waiting all night, and now he knew that the time had come. Both his hands held a bowl filled with smoking embers, thin streams of smoke pillared upward into his face as he breathed in deep. He was ready.

“Spirits of these lands, heed my call.”

He said simply while staring into the rising sun, he closed his eye for a brief moment and when they opened again he was there.

Not quite in the real world, not completely out of it. He had reached out to the very boundary, close to the fine fabrics that held the world together. It looked so much different from the last time, the visions and the earthy vista clear. He closed his eyes again, it was his place to listen here - nothing else.

You have come with a request. Your name carries out to us, we know it well in our lands. Speak it out and be proud, for despite your nature and the way of your people, you have been humble in our presence. Respectful in your requests and we have lent you our aid, the greatest power we could muster. Speak out your name, Orc. For you have earned that right.

I am Nazrug Thundercaller, Shaman to the Warsong Clan, Alpha of the Storm and spiritual leader to the Warsong Blades. I am messenger to you, great ones.

Speak your message them, say your piece.

Long ago, years before the cursed Orcs were corrupted and enslaved as pets of the Legion, they were a race in tune with the natural flow of the elements. Children of the earth, siblings of the flame, offspring of the water and younglings of the wind. They were respectful of the destructive power of the elemental spirits of Nagrand, the “land of winds”.

How far we did fall.

Our very nature was our downfall, Orcs respect power and were easily recruited as the Legion’s slaves. We ignored the call of spirits and as a result, the elements turned their backs. Shamanism within the Horde died.

Since the falling of the Legion many organised spiritual groups have attempted to re-commune with the elements in the land of winds, none have been as successful as the Earthen Ring.

But what of our lands? What of Durotar? What of Azeroth?

Many Shaman act as vessels of communication to the spirits of these lands, they speak to us and for those that ask, they lend their wisdom and strength.

It is time that we, the spiritualists of these lands, Orcs, Trolls, Tauren and even the Draenei, start to once again commune with the elementals. It is time for us to display our respect and strengthen our ties to the earth, brighten the flames of our fires, rejoice in the purifying nature of water and strike up the wind to empower us with their insight.

Once again we will strike down our enemies with thunder, heal our sick with rejuvenating water... no longer shall we lend the power without acknowledgement.

Let the ground shake and the people tremble once again at the power of the shaman!

Now is the time, brothers and sisters, to bring back the ancient traditions of the Gun’magosh. Let us start festivities in their name, commune and deliver ourselves to their call. Offer them the small sacrifices they demand and embrace the power that they fuel our existence with.

We need to meet, we need to plan...

Very well, Nazrug of the Warsong, this will be taken to them on the wings of the wind, all shaman across these lands will hear this call...


Nazrug opened his eyes, his deed was done. But for now, he longed for sleep.

((A regular shamanism RP event I am going to be starting soon for anyone interested. This event was originally planned for my guild, the Warsong Blades, but it was felt that not enough people would make a monthly appearance.
This is aimed at shamans, but obviously anyone non-arcane orientated is welcome. (Including Draenai shaman)
If you show any affiliation to the alliance though, you’ll probably get gunned down. That being said, we are going to try and keep it as peaceful as possible. Just be sensible about who you attend with.

I am hoping that shaman will be contacting Nazrug ICly about the event, and once I’ve judged whether it will be a success or not, I will advertise a date.))

The white robed troll strode through the entrance of the Razor hill great hall, the smell of smoke thick on his being. His braided hair hang over his face and back, crude totems and tiny rat skulls dangled and clinked together. Small decorated bags of beads were wrapped around his ankles, and shook as he walked. He held a rod, a preserved troll finger primitively wrapped at the end with feathers and dried animal sinew.

The guards watched him with interest as the approached the alpha.

Alpha Nazrug Thundercaller stood at the far end of the hall, the troll immediately recognised him. The spirits had shown him the image.
The troll approached, focusing on the Orc shaman with bloodshot eyes. Completely ignoring the colossal Orcish guards standing to either side of him. The size of their weapons and the harsh features on their faces were insignificant in comparison to the calling. He reached the foot of the stair dais that the Orc stood on and bowed.

“I ‘ear de summons, an I be comin’ te see.” The troll said.

The Orc peered down at the troll with a smile.

“You are the first, you have travelled far?”

“A long way, I be. Day an night.”


“Welcome to Razor hill, make yourself at home in the inn for the next few days until more arrive. What do they call you, troll?”

The troll smiled, amused by the asking of his name. He had not answered that question in long time. Finally he was back from hiding.

“I be Jimar Zal’zulu of da Dark Spear, witch docta and medicine mon.”

He knelt down and tapped the rod on the floor at his introduction. With a nod from Nazrug, Jimar turned and left the great hall. The inn did not appeal to him, he would find somewhere else to stay for the next few days.


(( for anyone interested in a prelude to this event, Nazrug and the <Warsong Blades> shamans will be in Razor hill on Wednesday the 8th of April at about 20:00 onward, shaman and tribal medium figures from all backgrounds can use the spiritual contact story above for IC reasons for attendance. Just pitch up and say you received the message.))