Post by Machk on Feb 7, 2010 2:16:25 GMT -5
Part One:
"He's not dead. I'm going to find him."
The large black bull rose his head, gazing upon the smog green sky of the Dustwallow Marsh. He had a firm presence about him, one that wasn't like him. Machk was usually outgoing, positive, and of peaceful nature. Nara had never seen him this way, at least not since his parents died. The female tauren, much shorter than him yet retaining the same color of onyx upon her skin, rested a hand on his back. "Machk...he's been gone for days. His beast returned on the verge of death. There is no way he could have made it out of..." She stopped knowing full well the anger, rage, and brutality the shaman was capable of. Of course, she also knew that Machk would never lay a harmful hand on her. In her eyes, Machk was a completely different person when consumed in bloodlust. He wasn't himself, as if some horrifying beast took his place.
"Nara...I'm leaving to find him. You cannot stop me."
The girl looked to the dirt ground. She knew it would be impossible to stop him now, both physically and mentally, but she tried. "Machk, my father...he may not be happy with this.." Machk looked down at the female with his deep blue eyes, retaining his firm, deep voice. "Your father...the elders...they can understand my reasons. I must go now." The female looked down at her hooves before giving the shaman a solemn nod. Nara approached his arms which he had opened for her. After hugging her, he lifted her chin up to his face to kiss her. She returned the kiss before releasing from him slowly. He smiled down to her as he had always done. "I will return before tomorrow comes. Stay safe until then." After bowing a head to her, he turned to the opposite direction, heading deep into the danger filled Marsh with only his armor and his two cudgels. Nara remained for a few moments which seemed, to her, hours. Her green eyes began to tremble, and soon enough, a tear emerged. She frowned as his visage had slowly dispersed amongst the green trees and steam mirages of the Marsh. It was as if she knew nothing good was to come from this search.
The Marsh was a terrible place to be wondering alone at night, especially for a Grimtotem. Not only were the crocodiles and serpents of the waters perpetually in hunger, but there was also the danger of treading into the dragon territory of the south. Despite all of the dangers of the travel, though, Machk had a determination about him. A determination fueled by blood. Ever since his childhood, Machk and his brother Tundar were spiritually connected. As the shaman trekked the green Marsh, he replayed moments of his past within his mind. He remembered the first time Tundar took Machk on a hunting trip, in which Machk hunted his first prey, a marsh raptor. He also remembered the time his parents died. Tundar and Machk stayed awake all night, remembering the good and bad times they had with their family. Machk stopped for a moment's rest, kneeling down to the ground. He rubbed his eyes from the sweat caused by the humid temperature. Surely this night would be a moment he would look back on as he had with the other moments of his life, he thought to himself. He would find his brother perfectly unharmed and they would return to the village, and years from now, look back on this very moment. The massive bull rose to his feet, chuckling softly to himself. If only life were that easy, he thought to himself. He continued through the Marsh, completely determined to find Tundar.
"Nara! Where have you been, girl?" an aged yet masculine tauren yelled from within the village. Nara walked slowly to approach Pharn, her father and lead elder of the village, within the large tent they called home, her head hanging downwards. Her pain was obvious. "Nara, what is wrong? Is something wrong?" She kept her vision to the ground until she fully met with him, lifting her head with tearful eyes. The old tauren threw his arms around her in a hug. "Nara, tell your father what has happened." She sniffed tears a few times before she could fully speak without stuttering. "Shu'mal...Machk... hes gone into the Marsh...looking for Tundar..." The old tauren took his eyes off the girl and into the distance in a lost trance. He snapped back into reality, releasing himself quickly from the hug. "Wh...what? And you didn't stop him?" Nara began to break out into tears. "I couldn't, father! You know what he is capable of!" In an act of spite anger, Pharn slapped his daughter with a fierce hand. She yelped, dropping to the ground on her knees. "Bah!", he exclaimed, "The elders, they must know of this...I will deal with you when this is all over!" Pharn stormed from the presence of her daughter, who remained on her knees. She cried not only for her pain, but for the pain Machk was soon to endure. Throwing a hand to her neck, she reached for a bead necklace given to her by Machk, grasping it. I'm sorry...for everything..., she thought to herself.
The elements of the Marsh were beginning to get to Machk. He was growing tired, and the glaring red sun was burning him. He ignored these factors, however. As he said before to his loving Nara, nothing could stop him from finding his brother, not even the very elements he fought with in battle. Sniffing the humid air, Machk caught a scent. it was a familiar scent, a scent he often smelt when hunting with Tundar. It was the scent of a rotting kill. "Tundar went missing during a hunt..." the shaman whispered. He sprinted off excitedly, trailing the scent of the kill. What felt like only mere minutes of running, Machk finally caught up with the scent. He approached the scent's causer slowly and scanned it entirely: a large white wolf impaled by a spear. Machk sniffed the entry point of the spear. Three days, he thought. Three days of death. He inspected the spear itself. He was able to identify it's owner quickly. The spear was comprised of shining silver. Its craft was an interesting one: all along the spear were inscriptions and carvings of taurahe and drawings of beasts. The spear was unique, and it belonged to Tundar. Another clue.
Machk ripped the spear from the beast's side and used it's razor sharp edge to cut a paw of the wolf. This way, when he found Tundar, he would be able to give the paw to him and he would have credit of the kill. He was sure his brother would be proud of his craftiness. After taking a moment to respect the death of the creature and clipping the spear to his back, he continued onward through the musty swamp. The large shaman would spend all night traveling the Marsh until he came across his greatest clue. Looking downwards, he noticed in the hardened mud were hoof prints. Numerous ones, too, enough to serve at least three or four tauren. This is it, he thought, follow these and I will find Tundar. He sprinted, following the tracks. He was cautious in his run as to not trip over his own huge hooves and destroy the hoof prints. A strong surge of energy jolted threw the shaman as he followed the prints. "I feel you..." he shouted. "I can sense you, Tundar!" The shaman suddenly stopped. His eyes never budged as he kept his vision on one thing. Nothing was said as he dropped to his knees. His mouth was agape, appalled at what he was seeing. Tears immediately began to form around his ocean blue eyes. He fell to his hands, shaking and crawling slowly to what lied before him: the corpse of a tauren as black as the shaman. Impaled within the corpse's back was a hatchet.
It was the body of Tundar. Machk fell to his stomach, now, crying tears of utter sadness. He screamed the name of his brother as he cried. He crawled closer to the body, calming his tears, to inspect his fallen brother. The hatchet stuck out to Machk as if it was an age old enemy. He gently pulled it from his brother's back to inspect it. He dropped it immediately upon grasping it, as if it held a sort of disease. The handle of the hatchet was carved with the insignia of the Grimtotem tribe, Machk's own tribe. The shaman was completely confused, angered, and sad at the same time. His own tribe had murdered his brother, a man who was regarded a hero among the village. Why? he thought to himself many times. Staring at the hatchet on the ground, he let out a loud roar of rage that reverberated from the low clouds of the Marsh. Calming himself, he turned to his fallen brother. The shaman noticed Tundar's axe lied next to its owner's body. For the rest of the night, Machk dug a deep grave for his brother with his wooden cudgels. To signify the grave, he slammed Tundar's axe atop the pile. The shaman honored his brother for hours before grasping the hatchet that killed him. Machk was to have a word with the elders.
The next day came ever so slowly for Nara as she awoke. She peeked out the small hole-like window of her tent to notice Machk, her love, walking past her home. She was enthralled with happiness to see him safely returned, but this excitement was lost as quickly as it came when her eyes viewed his face. It was one she had never seen on him before. The shaman's brows pointed diagonally against his eyes, and his mouth was scrunched into the worst of frowns. This was a face of complete madness. She whimpered when she noticed the bloody Grimtotem hatchet in his hands. She raced to the entrance of her tent to see where he was going. "Machk!...Maaachk!" she yelled, but with no avail. The huge tauren made no effort to turn. She followed slowly behind him. As the two continued down the village road, Nara became fearful of where he was heading. Machk's pace led him to the elder's sector, where Pharn and the other elders oversaw the village and its duties. She continued to whimper as she followed Machk into the sector.
Approaching the tent that the elders conducted their work in, Machk aggressively ripped the bead curtains from the entrance, throwing them into the dirt with such force that the various beads dug into the ground like bullets. The elders, most notably Pharn, jumped to their feet to see an enraged tauren vastly bigger than them intrude. The shaman, with complete force, slammed the hatchet on a table, impaling any papers that rested upon it. With vigor, the raged bull yelled at his elders. "What is this?" he screamed. Nara remained outside the tent. She fell to her knees when she heard her lover scream at his lungs. Pharn was the first one to reply. "Machk...calm down...let us settle this..." Machk interrupted him, something he would know better against if he was sober of anger. "Why was this on his body? Tell me!" Another elder chimed in. "Tundar was to betray us!" Another followed suit. "One of the villagers overheard him speaking to another about running to Cairne, telling him our plans!" Machk grabbed the hatchet from the table and threw it, ripping a hole in the tent. Pharn returned in the conversation. "We had to do it, Machk. You know the way the Grimtotem work. Betrayers become betrayed." Pharn's words seemed to work like a key, unlocking Machk's remaining respect for his elders. He lunged furiously at Pharn, but suddenly stopped. Confused, he looked around to understand what was going on. He turned to his back to see Nara standing, looking at him with the strangest of gazes. He then looked to his feet: he was rooted to the ground from Nara's spell. He heard her whisper softly. "I'm...sorry, Shu'mal..." Machk roared once more, trying to release his feet from the roots. Pharn laughed a bit. "How monstrous and stupid you become when angered." he said. Machk threw his gaze upon him. Pharn bent down to lift a piece of the table Machk had broken. "You...you had potential." Pharn exclaimed. He slammed the side of Machk's face with the wooden piece, knocking the shaman out cold.
Everything was blurry when Machk awoke. His head was extremely soar, and the side of his face stung with pain. Regaining some of his vision, he was able to notice his arms were chained to two long poles, and he was stripped of his armor and cudgels, his upper chest being bare of any clothing. After a few moments, he regained full consciousness. He roared once before looking around him. He was surrounded by what seemed to be the entire village. Nara was amongst the crowd. The shaman looked to her, as if requesting help, but she simply looked on at him with sad eyes. The voice of Pharn came from behind him. "On this day, we were betrayed by the brother of a great hero. Machk has committed treason against the elders, nearly killing us..." The crowd raged with anger, screaming and yelling curses in taurahe. "Today, you shall witness the punishment of this man." Pharn cleared his throat, signaling one of the village guards over. In the guard's hand was the whip, Machk's punishment. "Watch, Grimtotems, and learn what happens to those who defy us!" Pharn took the whip from the guard, stepping back a few feet. The crowd cheered, waiting to witness the shaman's pain. Raising his arm behind him, Pharn sent the whip to Machk's back. This happened again and again, and each time the whip would slap the shaman's skin, he would cry in pain. Nala began to break down in tears as the others in the crowd cheered. After various whippings, Machk began to stop crying. He began to take in the pain, his mind completely lost. Pharn put the whip to rest as he addressed the shaman. "Shu'mal! Who are your masters?" Machk responded in great and elongated breathes. "The elders...sir..." The crowd cheered immensely. "And who shall you forever serve in honor and faith?" Machk responded again with the same answer, and with the same reaction from the crowd.
Pharn tossed the whip aside. "And now, for the final part of your punishment! Nara, my daughter, step forward." Machk lied completely motionless as his love was called out. Nara jumped when her name was spoken, but began to walk towards her father slowly, her face flooding with tears. The crowd was restless when Nara reached her father. "Nara," he yelled, "take his cudgels...and beat his eyes." Nara broke down instantly, crying while screaming "No! No!" Pharn motioned to the maces on the ground. "Do it! Or suffer a fate worse than his! Nara...you wouldn't betray your own father...your own blood, would you?" After taking a deep gulp and taking the first step into a dark fate, she nodded once at her father. The crowd screamed in excitement. As she walked to the maces, her entire body shook in fear. The maces in hand, she approached Machk's body lied on the ground, almost lifeless as his back was painted red from the lashings. She kneeled down before the shaman, flipping his body so his chest faced the sky, as did his face. Lost within a trance of pain and torture, Machk only gave a gaze of death towards the green clouds of the Marsh. Nala gave the shaman a last peck on the cheek before grabbing the maces. "I...I...oh, Earthmother...I'm...so...sorry..." Her tears fell upon the shaman's face as the maces met impact with his eyes.
Machk awakened. He was completely drenched in his own blood. He hurt everywhere, especially in his eyes. He couldn't even lift his eye lids. Everything was dark. He could still feel the chains rapped around his arms. Taking a finger he was able to lift, he trailed for the eyes on his face. The touch stung him with pain, but he continued on. He felt blood on his face, yet he hadn't recalled ever being punished in his face around his eyes. The shaman dropped a hand lifelessly. He noticed he blinked. His eyes were completely open the whole time, yet all he could see was blackness. He was blind. Rather than roaring or screaming in pain, Machk lied back down, lifeless and cold. There was nothing but silence and blood.
"He's not dead. I'm going to find him."
The large black bull rose his head, gazing upon the smog green sky of the Dustwallow Marsh. He had a firm presence about him, one that wasn't like him. Machk was usually outgoing, positive, and of peaceful nature. Nara had never seen him this way, at least not since his parents died. The female tauren, much shorter than him yet retaining the same color of onyx upon her skin, rested a hand on his back. "Machk...he's been gone for days. His beast returned on the verge of death. There is no way he could have made it out of..." She stopped knowing full well the anger, rage, and brutality the shaman was capable of. Of course, she also knew that Machk would never lay a harmful hand on her. In her eyes, Machk was a completely different person when consumed in bloodlust. He wasn't himself, as if some horrifying beast took his place.
"Nara...I'm leaving to find him. You cannot stop me."
The girl looked to the dirt ground. She knew it would be impossible to stop him now, both physically and mentally, but she tried. "Machk, my father...he may not be happy with this.." Machk looked down at the female with his deep blue eyes, retaining his firm, deep voice. "Your father...the elders...they can understand my reasons. I must go now." The female looked down at her hooves before giving the shaman a solemn nod. Nara approached his arms which he had opened for her. After hugging her, he lifted her chin up to his face to kiss her. She returned the kiss before releasing from him slowly. He smiled down to her as he had always done. "I will return before tomorrow comes. Stay safe until then." After bowing a head to her, he turned to the opposite direction, heading deep into the danger filled Marsh with only his armor and his two cudgels. Nara remained for a few moments which seemed, to her, hours. Her green eyes began to tremble, and soon enough, a tear emerged. She frowned as his visage had slowly dispersed amongst the green trees and steam mirages of the Marsh. It was as if she knew nothing good was to come from this search.
The Marsh was a terrible place to be wondering alone at night, especially for a Grimtotem. Not only were the crocodiles and serpents of the waters perpetually in hunger, but there was also the danger of treading into the dragon territory of the south. Despite all of the dangers of the travel, though, Machk had a determination about him. A determination fueled by blood. Ever since his childhood, Machk and his brother Tundar were spiritually connected. As the shaman trekked the green Marsh, he replayed moments of his past within his mind. He remembered the first time Tundar took Machk on a hunting trip, in which Machk hunted his first prey, a marsh raptor. He also remembered the time his parents died. Tundar and Machk stayed awake all night, remembering the good and bad times they had with their family. Machk stopped for a moment's rest, kneeling down to the ground. He rubbed his eyes from the sweat caused by the humid temperature. Surely this night would be a moment he would look back on as he had with the other moments of his life, he thought to himself. He would find his brother perfectly unharmed and they would return to the village, and years from now, look back on this very moment. The massive bull rose to his feet, chuckling softly to himself. If only life were that easy, he thought to himself. He continued through the Marsh, completely determined to find Tundar.
"Nara! Where have you been, girl?" an aged yet masculine tauren yelled from within the village. Nara walked slowly to approach Pharn, her father and lead elder of the village, within the large tent they called home, her head hanging downwards. Her pain was obvious. "Nara, what is wrong? Is something wrong?" She kept her vision to the ground until she fully met with him, lifting her head with tearful eyes. The old tauren threw his arms around her in a hug. "Nara, tell your father what has happened." She sniffed tears a few times before she could fully speak without stuttering. "Shu'mal...Machk... hes gone into the Marsh...looking for Tundar..." The old tauren took his eyes off the girl and into the distance in a lost trance. He snapped back into reality, releasing himself quickly from the hug. "Wh...what? And you didn't stop him?" Nara began to break out into tears. "I couldn't, father! You know what he is capable of!" In an act of spite anger, Pharn slapped his daughter with a fierce hand. She yelped, dropping to the ground on her knees. "Bah!", he exclaimed, "The elders, they must know of this...I will deal with you when this is all over!" Pharn stormed from the presence of her daughter, who remained on her knees. She cried not only for her pain, but for the pain Machk was soon to endure. Throwing a hand to her neck, she reached for a bead necklace given to her by Machk, grasping it. I'm sorry...for everything..., she thought to herself.
The elements of the Marsh were beginning to get to Machk. He was growing tired, and the glaring red sun was burning him. He ignored these factors, however. As he said before to his loving Nara, nothing could stop him from finding his brother, not even the very elements he fought with in battle. Sniffing the humid air, Machk caught a scent. it was a familiar scent, a scent he often smelt when hunting with Tundar. It was the scent of a rotting kill. "Tundar went missing during a hunt..." the shaman whispered. He sprinted off excitedly, trailing the scent of the kill. What felt like only mere minutes of running, Machk finally caught up with the scent. He approached the scent's causer slowly and scanned it entirely: a large white wolf impaled by a spear. Machk sniffed the entry point of the spear. Three days, he thought. Three days of death. He inspected the spear itself. He was able to identify it's owner quickly. The spear was comprised of shining silver. Its craft was an interesting one: all along the spear were inscriptions and carvings of taurahe and drawings of beasts. The spear was unique, and it belonged to Tundar. Another clue.
Machk ripped the spear from the beast's side and used it's razor sharp edge to cut a paw of the wolf. This way, when he found Tundar, he would be able to give the paw to him and he would have credit of the kill. He was sure his brother would be proud of his craftiness. After taking a moment to respect the death of the creature and clipping the spear to his back, he continued onward through the musty swamp. The large shaman would spend all night traveling the Marsh until he came across his greatest clue. Looking downwards, he noticed in the hardened mud were hoof prints. Numerous ones, too, enough to serve at least three or four tauren. This is it, he thought, follow these and I will find Tundar. He sprinted, following the tracks. He was cautious in his run as to not trip over his own huge hooves and destroy the hoof prints. A strong surge of energy jolted threw the shaman as he followed the prints. "I feel you..." he shouted. "I can sense you, Tundar!" The shaman suddenly stopped. His eyes never budged as he kept his vision on one thing. Nothing was said as he dropped to his knees. His mouth was agape, appalled at what he was seeing. Tears immediately began to form around his ocean blue eyes. He fell to his hands, shaking and crawling slowly to what lied before him: the corpse of a tauren as black as the shaman. Impaled within the corpse's back was a hatchet.
It was the body of Tundar. Machk fell to his stomach, now, crying tears of utter sadness. He screamed the name of his brother as he cried. He crawled closer to the body, calming his tears, to inspect his fallen brother. The hatchet stuck out to Machk as if it was an age old enemy. He gently pulled it from his brother's back to inspect it. He dropped it immediately upon grasping it, as if it held a sort of disease. The handle of the hatchet was carved with the insignia of the Grimtotem tribe, Machk's own tribe. The shaman was completely confused, angered, and sad at the same time. His own tribe had murdered his brother, a man who was regarded a hero among the village. Why? he thought to himself many times. Staring at the hatchet on the ground, he let out a loud roar of rage that reverberated from the low clouds of the Marsh. Calming himself, he turned to his fallen brother. The shaman noticed Tundar's axe lied next to its owner's body. For the rest of the night, Machk dug a deep grave for his brother with his wooden cudgels. To signify the grave, he slammed Tundar's axe atop the pile. The shaman honored his brother for hours before grasping the hatchet that killed him. Machk was to have a word with the elders.
The next day came ever so slowly for Nara as she awoke. She peeked out the small hole-like window of her tent to notice Machk, her love, walking past her home. She was enthralled with happiness to see him safely returned, but this excitement was lost as quickly as it came when her eyes viewed his face. It was one she had never seen on him before. The shaman's brows pointed diagonally against his eyes, and his mouth was scrunched into the worst of frowns. This was a face of complete madness. She whimpered when she noticed the bloody Grimtotem hatchet in his hands. She raced to the entrance of her tent to see where he was going. "Machk!...Maaachk!" she yelled, but with no avail. The huge tauren made no effort to turn. She followed slowly behind him. As the two continued down the village road, Nara became fearful of where he was heading. Machk's pace led him to the elder's sector, where Pharn and the other elders oversaw the village and its duties. She continued to whimper as she followed Machk into the sector.
Approaching the tent that the elders conducted their work in, Machk aggressively ripped the bead curtains from the entrance, throwing them into the dirt with such force that the various beads dug into the ground like bullets. The elders, most notably Pharn, jumped to their feet to see an enraged tauren vastly bigger than them intrude. The shaman, with complete force, slammed the hatchet on a table, impaling any papers that rested upon it. With vigor, the raged bull yelled at his elders. "What is this?" he screamed. Nara remained outside the tent. She fell to her knees when she heard her lover scream at his lungs. Pharn was the first one to reply. "Machk...calm down...let us settle this..." Machk interrupted him, something he would know better against if he was sober of anger. "Why was this on his body? Tell me!" Another elder chimed in. "Tundar was to betray us!" Another followed suit. "One of the villagers overheard him speaking to another about running to Cairne, telling him our plans!" Machk grabbed the hatchet from the table and threw it, ripping a hole in the tent. Pharn returned in the conversation. "We had to do it, Machk. You know the way the Grimtotem work. Betrayers become betrayed." Pharn's words seemed to work like a key, unlocking Machk's remaining respect for his elders. He lunged furiously at Pharn, but suddenly stopped. Confused, he looked around to understand what was going on. He turned to his back to see Nara standing, looking at him with the strangest of gazes. He then looked to his feet: he was rooted to the ground from Nara's spell. He heard her whisper softly. "I'm...sorry, Shu'mal..." Machk roared once more, trying to release his feet from the roots. Pharn laughed a bit. "How monstrous and stupid you become when angered." he said. Machk threw his gaze upon him. Pharn bent down to lift a piece of the table Machk had broken. "You...you had potential." Pharn exclaimed. He slammed the side of Machk's face with the wooden piece, knocking the shaman out cold.
Everything was blurry when Machk awoke. His head was extremely soar, and the side of his face stung with pain. Regaining some of his vision, he was able to notice his arms were chained to two long poles, and he was stripped of his armor and cudgels, his upper chest being bare of any clothing. After a few moments, he regained full consciousness. He roared once before looking around him. He was surrounded by what seemed to be the entire village. Nara was amongst the crowd. The shaman looked to her, as if requesting help, but she simply looked on at him with sad eyes. The voice of Pharn came from behind him. "On this day, we were betrayed by the brother of a great hero. Machk has committed treason against the elders, nearly killing us..." The crowd raged with anger, screaming and yelling curses in taurahe. "Today, you shall witness the punishment of this man." Pharn cleared his throat, signaling one of the village guards over. In the guard's hand was the whip, Machk's punishment. "Watch, Grimtotems, and learn what happens to those who defy us!" Pharn took the whip from the guard, stepping back a few feet. The crowd cheered, waiting to witness the shaman's pain. Raising his arm behind him, Pharn sent the whip to Machk's back. This happened again and again, and each time the whip would slap the shaman's skin, he would cry in pain. Nala began to break down in tears as the others in the crowd cheered. After various whippings, Machk began to stop crying. He began to take in the pain, his mind completely lost. Pharn put the whip to rest as he addressed the shaman. "Shu'mal! Who are your masters?" Machk responded in great and elongated breathes. "The elders...sir..." The crowd cheered immensely. "And who shall you forever serve in honor and faith?" Machk responded again with the same answer, and with the same reaction from the crowd.
Pharn tossed the whip aside. "And now, for the final part of your punishment! Nara, my daughter, step forward." Machk lied completely motionless as his love was called out. Nara jumped when her name was spoken, but began to walk towards her father slowly, her face flooding with tears. The crowd was restless when Nara reached her father. "Nara," he yelled, "take his cudgels...and beat his eyes." Nara broke down instantly, crying while screaming "No! No!" Pharn motioned to the maces on the ground. "Do it! Or suffer a fate worse than his! Nara...you wouldn't betray your own father...your own blood, would you?" After taking a deep gulp and taking the first step into a dark fate, she nodded once at her father. The crowd screamed in excitement. As she walked to the maces, her entire body shook in fear. The maces in hand, she approached Machk's body lied on the ground, almost lifeless as his back was painted red from the lashings. She kneeled down before the shaman, flipping his body so his chest faced the sky, as did his face. Lost within a trance of pain and torture, Machk only gave a gaze of death towards the green clouds of the Marsh. Nala gave the shaman a last peck on the cheek before grabbing the maces. "I...I...oh, Earthmother...I'm...so...sorry..." Her tears fell upon the shaman's face as the maces met impact with his eyes.
Machk awakened. He was completely drenched in his own blood. He hurt everywhere, especially in his eyes. He couldn't even lift his eye lids. Everything was dark. He could still feel the chains rapped around his arms. Taking a finger he was able to lift, he trailed for the eyes on his face. The touch stung him with pain, but he continued on. He felt blood on his face, yet he hadn't recalled ever being punished in his face around his eyes. The shaman dropped a hand lifelessly. He noticed he blinked. His eyes were completely open the whole time, yet all he could see was blackness. He was blind. Rather than roaring or screaming in pain, Machk lied back down, lifeless and cold. There was nothing but silence and blood.
Founded April 26, 2005