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Prologue

Burgrsch stoos chained by the neck to the pit's roof. He had been beaten, stripped and burned marked for his crimes. His fellow Company members had found him guilty of betrayal and tho his actions had lead to the druidess Naibi's death he was found not guilty of murder. Now Commander Firemane ordered Hanouff to hold the old orc.

The mighty arms Hanouff locked the arms the chain and naked orc. Holding the old orc in place. Zen'jan held the dragon bone totem shaped like a cat in his hand. The commanders eyes had no mercy in them, nor had Amelía's eyes any.

She held a dagger in her hand, and whit it she cut the old one's chest open. Once she had done so Zen'jan gave her the totem. As she pushed it in to Burgrsch body he felt it's holy energies burn he to his wherry soul.

Then Taigi healed the wound. The pain was to much for him, the agony toke him. He fell and his spirit traveled inwards. The only one to take pity on him the mage Skabb, she put his robes over his sleeping form

The punishment

The old orc body was consume by the pain that the dragon totem of the cat caused him. And because of that agony his consciousness had let go and he collapsed in to a troubledsleep. The only thing that cowered his half naked and beaten body was the robes that Skabb had lied on him.

Now Burgrsch spirit traveled in to the source of his pain. The warlock's spirit came face to face whit the holy being that was the totems power.

Even in his dream the fallen shaman had the sense of mind to fall to his knee's before the mighty spirit. It was made of green, emerald like, earth. Had the shape of a great cat, maybe a lion or tiger the orc could not tell. It's stone like skin was cracked and from those cracks a golden light shone.

The mighty cat spirit made from the elemental powers of Katoka, the holy light of Anyel and the feral powers of Niabicircled the old orc. He simply waited for it to pass it's own judgment on him.

All the wail he felt how waves of pain pulsed through him. Like a heartbeat of agony.

Part 2

The great cat had circled the orc for what seamed hours to him. The waves of pain seamed to come slower now, but the power of the pain was also growing. Burgrsch was growing impatient, and orc never known for being clam or reflecting beings had a need to act.

Even so, as a former shaman he knew not to anger a spirit. Still it's unwillingness to act irritated him. He glared at the mighty cat, it's golden eyes judging him. The old warlock felt he had to do something.
"Why are you here great one? Shall you torment me more or have you come to make a deal?"

His question was meet whit a angry growl and then noting.

Again he waited, time slowed, the waves of pain came further but when the pain came it felt like his whole body would explode. And whit the pain came anger, fear and a need to act.
"I know you can understand me! Pleas speak to me!" the old orc bagged. The cat did not respond in any other way but snort in anger.
"If you mean to be my enemy! Then fight me!" The old orc roared and rose.

It all happened whit in a instance. Burgrsch attacked the great cat spirit. But even tho he fought whit all his might the spirit overpowered him and forced him down. The great cat stood over him snarling, the stone claws of it's front paws still drawing blood form the old orc's body.
"Mercy... I surrender..." Burgrsch muttered, "I ask only your forgiveness... For what I made you do to Niabi..."

Part 3

The vision had faded he the old one had woken. The waves of pain pulsating through his body. It stole his focus, and made it hard for him to keep a tight rein on his demon slaves. He even chose not to use Haathum for fear that the Felguard would use his weakened hold to break free and kill his master.

Instead Burgrsch found that his pain fueled the darkest of warlock arts. For when ever his went in to battle against corruption's of nature or other forms of evil the pain lessened. He also learned to send part of his pain to others, using it as a weapon.

In his wake followed suffering and death. The old orc cast himself in to the war efforts of the Horde. Tho every time he turned his powers against a druid, shaman or servant of the holy light the pain forced him to stop.

He told himself that he could master it, that all he needed was time. But in his heart he knew the truth, he was only in part in control. The spirit of the totem was as much his master as he was the master of his demons.

What he needed was a way to put himself and the spirits of equal footing. Some power he could hold over the spirit or something to trade whit. He had tried the masters heart but it had failed.

He was ruing out of idea´s and like always when he became to tired or the pain overcame him. He collapsed and once again the spirit of the totem had him.

The might of the earth, the force of the holy light and the instincts of the great feline. His keeper was a powerful one and tho he begged it, it still did not speak to him.

Part 4

Burgrsch had come to notice that somethings other the combat could eased his pain. Things like siting, standing next to a shaman, paladin or druid. Standing close to Katoka or Anyel more so then others. He walked to the glen where young Stonewalkers body had been left often.

By the grace of some divine power, the druidess bone's where not scattered like one would expect. The beast's of the land had picked them clean and now only the white bone's and horns where sinking in to the grass. But the old warlock knew he would always know this place.

He felt her precens here, and that much more then the remains of her body lead him here. The old orc had even started to pray at her final resting place at one time. Asking her spirit for guidance. Only in those short moments of silent prayer did he found inner peace.

As he sate there at the graveyard of the Hold he wondered. Had he been dealing whit the totem the wrong way? Had he tought like a warlock, when he should have though like a shaman?

As he asked himself this things he prayed to Niabi's spirit for inner peace.

Part 5

The old orc sat in his chambers inside the Blood Blade homestead. In his hands he held a perfect copy of the dragon bone totem that still sent waves of pain through his old body. Tho it was perfect only in form, not in power. In fact the copy had no power what so ever.

And if just held by someone who could feel magical energy's, or had ties to the spirits, would know this. But Burgrsch was not planing to send it to someone whit those sort of magical powers.

Tho Burgrsch had to ask himself why? Just out of spite towards Zen'jan? Or did sending him this fake totem have a greater meaning? Surly Zen'jan would believe the fake to be the real thing, at least at first. And that would only anger the troll commander. If the old orc did this was it for himself, Niabi or Zen'jan?

He put the fake away and tought instead of his last meeting whit the great cat. It had been soon after Zen'jan had cast him out for stating his true loyalty's. Which had been immensely foolish of him. At first the old orc had felt broken, rejected but also relived to be back whit his blood kin in Durotar. It had been then the great cat spirit had come to him in his dreams.

It had told him that the Company was not his pack. That he could only now start to look for his true path. And that the spirit would help him, much to Burgrsch surprise. It also told him that the greatest reason for his pain was the lack of balance whit in his spirit. And that this could be remedy, by puring his skin of demonic runes and creating more dragon bone totems inbound whit the powers of the other elements.

"I am earth and life! You will need one totem that is wind, and one that is water, and one that is fire and death!" it proclaimed whit out the use of it's mouth.
"But how can a totem be empoweredby the essenes of death?" the old one had asked.
"That you know better then any warlock!" had been his only answer.

The warlock toke up the fake once more. Zen'jan might well throw it away as soon as he got it, or might even try to hunt Burgrsch down demanding a explanation. Or even his death... But the old orc felt that the druidess honor demanded the Commander to remember. And this could be his memento when Burgrsch was gone.

So he put the faked totem in a box addressed to "Commander Zen'jan Firemane of the Froststeel Company". He also put a small note on the box that just read: "In memory of Nibs" as he sent it Burg could only hope that the commander would hold on to the totem.

The path of Redemtion

It was a odd gathering that was meeting in the Caverns of Flame. The two orcs and the blood elf knew one another well as well as the caverns. They where a digged out cavern in Splinter Tree post and where often used for contacting the element of fire.

Archon Ravenblade hade spend a great deal of the day creating a power cicile. Using Xímranas handcrafted shamanic tools made from wood, bones and feathers. The elder orc Burgrsch had spent as much time meditating trying to get the spirit of the great cat to aid him. The spirit had not listened to him and only the pain he feelt coming over him in waves told him that it was still there.

Muttering one last incantation Archon completed the circile. The circile itself was a odd thing, the wooden totems where orcish by desig as where many of the runes. But they when enforced by arcane runes of pyromancey and unlike most shaman ciciles of power this was made to sommun forth a being of power. Not to meditate in or keep evil spirits out.

The young shamaness inspected the circile and asked the spirits for guidance. They told her that the circile would do what they wanted it to do. But that there would be a price and consequences for them all for a long time.
"What do the spirits say my child?" asked the old orc.
"They say we will get the answers we seek this way... But there will be a price for our actions." she told the two others.
"I will risk much for this. If this works, it will prove that the aracen and the spirits are not foes by nature." the blood elf mage said.
"This is not one of your petty experiments Raven. This is a spirit quest... I am still surprised that you agreed to this." Burgrsch comented.
"I belive that the spirits may yet save my peolpe young master Demonvoice."
"We are all on spirit quests father. Right now we await your spell."

The old orc gave his daughter and the elf a nod and steped up to the circile. Speaking a simpel prayer the the spirit of fire and gathering his inate power over hellfire he touched the circile.

The reaction was instant. A great pillar of raging fire came forth from the circile. Archon fell to his knee's feeling drained of nerly all his energy. Xímrana felt like her skin was aflame, yet there was littel pain. But her father was not so lucky.

He could feel his blood burn in his veins. The waves of pain came faster and faster. And as if that was not enough the pain seemed to grow whit every wave. Yet he could not lose himself to unconsciousness. Some power forced him to feel it all and keep his senses.

The great piller of fire slowly transformed it's shape. First in vagly looked like a man, then it became clear that it was female. When the great spirit sommuned forth was done taking it's true form it was a female orc shaman. Her features where much akin to both father and daugther and when Burgrsch looked at her he shrunk back in fear and shame.
"My Burgie... What has that Gul'dan done to you son?" asked the spirit. Her voice was the voice of a loving mother not a raging judge.
"M-mot-her.." the old one managed to stutter in his great pain.
"Yes, son. It is I Nectura Wildspirit, first shaman of the Blood Blade Clan before you. You whom, like so manny others, where triked by Gul'dan to take up the warlock arts. You whom are hated by all the spirits!" her voiced proclamed whit a otherworldly boom.
Burgrsch hide his face under his trembeling arms. The shame was to much. But then the spirit of his mother gave him a warming smile.
"Well... not all the spirits. I still love you, and always will my son. Now it's time for you to seek out your redemtion. First go to the Pools of Wisdom ask the spirit of water and fire to cleans your skin of those vile demon runes that cower your body my son. I will come to you in your dreams when that is done."
Then Nectura turned to Xímrana and smiled: "And you my grand duagther. You most seek out a wise old shaman. Whit his or her's aid you shall enter a transa and in it you will namn the hero of old wich will become our peolpes keeper of the dead in this our new home."
And lastly she turned to Archon Ravenblade and said: "And you magi, you most seek the Heart of the Land. Go now! We shall meet again... and you will become a survent of the spirits once more Burgie"

And whit that the spirit was gone. The cavern grew dark and all that could be heard was a old orc crying.

Part 2

The old orc kneeled before the mighty shaman Beram Skychaser. The tauren shaman could feel the pain the old orc was in, and his request was a honourbel one. Yet Beram could also seens the demon monster that waited for it's master out side the tent. The old warlock was cowerd whit the dark arts of his kind, sould one whom had fallen so far realy be given a new chanse at redemption?

Narm Skychaser did not belive so, but Sila Skychaser felt pity for the orc that had once been a shaman. Beram tougth of the tauren death knight's he had meet. They where few to be sure, and many of them truly where monsters. But almost all of them where seeking redemtion, some had even done as this one asked to do now. Entering the Pool's of Wisdom in a attemt to cleans them selfs or meditat over there fate. Sould those fallen brothers and sisters also be cast out?

As always when his own wisdom was not enough he would turn to the wisdom of the ancestor's. He told the orc this and asked him not to bring his demon when he came the next day. The warlock agreed and left, and Beram Skychaser went to the Pool's to seek the council of his great grandfather. After a few minute's of meditation the spirit of the Greatfather came to him.
"Wise Greatfather Skychaser, I Beram ask you for your aid." Beram said to the mighty spirit.
"Ask your question my child and I shall answer as well as i can." the spirit said.
"A orc has come to me in my role as Keeper of the Pool's of Wisdom. He ask's the right to cleans himself in there holy waters. But he is a warlock, a practiser of dark magic's, what sould I do?" the shaman asked the spirit.
"I know the orc of whom you speak. He was once as you are now. A mighty shaman loved by the spirits, ever has he acted as he tougth was beast for his kin and kind."
"But he is a being of evil!"
"Is he? is that truly what you belive? For if that is your belief, then your chose is easy. But that is not what you belive in your heart young Beram. You belive that this one is a good soul traped in the wed's of evil powers. Much like a shaman that have had to many dealings whit dark spirits or a warrior to much in love whit his weapons."
"I would not deny a death knight of our own peolpe... It would be crule not to alow a fallen brother to try and seek the spirit's aid..."
"Then you have your answer, and my blessing. Safe travels young Skychaser."

The next day Burgrsch came whit out any of his demon slaves. Beram said that the sprits had told him that the old warlock sould be alowed to attemt to cleans himself in the Pool's. But no demons where to enter the holy waters or the cavern. If the old one did not honour that, beram himself would vast him out! Master Demonvoice agreed and leaft to make his preparation's.

The Cleansing

The old orc had asked the spirits to cleans him. He would take any pain or payment for there blessing. And the spirits of the Pools of Wisdom had answerd his plee. First the spirit of fire had come to burn away the demonic rune's that cowerd his body. Then the spirit of water had come to remove his demonic eyes.

When he leaft to holy waters he had been blind once more. But the dark whispers of the demons of the Legion had almost died out. In there place the spirit of the emeral cat grew stronger. That great spirit of earth and life spoke to him now. Comanding that he call a meeting of others like him.

A meeting of magic user's that had love for the world and it's spirits. A meeting of mystics.

The Call

Burgrsch had been called "Demonvoice" by his own peolpe for as long as he could remember. Even as a young pup his fellow orc's had been more or less intranced by the sound of his voice. Few could resist him when he spoke softly to charm and even fewer could do anyting but back down when he roard in anger.

His mother Nectura, the powerfull shaman of the Blood Blade Clan, knew that he would become a strong shaman. Indeed she even had a few fears that he might become to powerfull. For when most shamans pleeded to the spirits to heed there call, young Demonvoice comanded. It seemed that even the ancestor's bowed to his will.

In many ways that had been his fall. When the spirits turned away from the orc's, Burgrsch was among the first shamans to take up the new dark arts. And he had masterd them, so completey that once he understood his misstake he could not give them up.

Now he used one talent that had allways come easy for him. The art of spirtual trance, both as a shaman and as a warlock, he had walked the plane of dreams whit easie. And through it he now sent forth a call. A call that could be heard by any whom masterd and form of magic.

But tho his spirit roard whit all his might the call became not much more then a faint whisper. Some whom heard this call used there respective training in there arts to focuse on the call. Trying to hear it clearer. Some whom did this could not fully understand the call for it was in part made of mental images but also a soft voice that spoke in orcish.

The call spoke of changes, the flow of magic had shifted, the earth shaking and a unclear feeling of dread. It spoke of a need to understand, to meet and seek awnsers together, to keep council whit others. Was this change for the better or for the worse? Could it be stoped? Or could they prepare for it?

The call also showed thos whom could hear it a time and place. The time was a sunday three week's away. The place the Valy of Wisdom in Orgrimmar. There the soft voice said would they meet to seek answers from one another and the elements of fire and earth.

The call ended whit a simpel but wise frase: "All elements, even that of death, are needed in this world. But when one of this trie's to dominat the others the balance is lost. And when there is no balance there can be no peace nor life."

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