Festival of Strength

The Festival of Strength is a New Horde festival and competition to be held in Nagrand on the first of March.

The old orc takes a deep breath. Astounded slightly by the inundation of golden light from the evening sun, he shuffles through the soft grass, weaving in an eternal dance with the crisp Nagrand winds. He was home, and nowhere did he feel any better. The fecund soil sunk to cradle his feet from heavy footfalls, his robe billowed, and his eyes darted between vibrant flora and the sparkling waters of the distant lakes and floating cascades. It was beautiful, yes, but more importantly, it felt familiar. The development was enough to coax a content sigh from him. He took off his cowl, allowing his black locks to tumble to the middle of his back, lowering himself to a seat onto the ground at a lake’s edge. He looked off to see things, a great many things, things that allowed him to lose himself into memory, things that guided his wandering mind, things that allowed him to smile the largest of yellow-toothed grins.

On this same ground did tribes race to catch their food to feed their people. The world thundered with their furious footsteps, and the animals sounded with their cacophony of noises, disturbed. Vast plumes of dust and dirt wafted from their stampede, painting the beaming sky with a tinge of brown and red. Animals fell to the mighty swings of axes and the impeccable accuracy of orcish bows, their blood painting the ground to bless it, as the animals’ victors leant down to cite their thanks before hoisting these great beasts onto their backs to carry them home. Jhorrum nodded with a contented grunt before digging deeper.

On this same ground did warriors – big and small, great and weak, admired and hated – face each other in magnificent duels of honor and skill. The clashing of metal and flesh resounded throughout the various villages, people sweating and bleeding to learn and let learn, to admire and let admire. Masterful weaves and precise strikes; locked in the great dance of combat, among the oldest of orcish traditions! Once the first warrior fell, the other walked over to offer their hand and lift their opponent to their feet – the more passionate ones refusing said help from time to time. Those who looked on howled their favor towards one or the other, and groaned methodically in disdain for each complication met for their mascot. Jhorrum had once participated and gathered with the crowd to contribute his own spirit, and he smiled at his recollection. He nodded again with a grunt before digging deeper.

On this same ground did the mouthwatering scents from food and drink embrace Jhorrum with their kiss; and on this same ground did furious steps – not raging from the hunt, no – but steps that danced to the beat of drums grace his ears. The festivals were bright and jovial, children scampered in the shadow of Oshu’gun, and the adults congregate to mingle. There were a line of people that slammed clubs into the thunderous drums that breathed more life than ever into the event, soul only forwarded by those immersed in dance. Mates even locked hands to dance in spirit together, a true testament to how far they’re willing to express themselves and their love for each other. Various things simmered on cooking spits, swaying stomachs to grunt and grumble for their meals, and grog flowed as freely as the rivers that blessed this land with their raging song. Jhorrum had danced here. He had eaten here too; the tenderness of the talbuk hadn’t so easily left his tongue after all this time.

He opened his eyes, abruptly stolen from his trance. Startled by his sudden excitement, he staggered to his feet to race towards Garadar, powering through the plains much like he and his ancestors once did during the great hunts of the past. With each pump of his legs and arms, he whispered under his breath.

“I have an idea…”

OOC Information
I hope you guys enjoyed that little short story! This was created for the event Jhorrum is holding a week from now called the “Festival of Strength,” which will be held on a Saturday on the 1st of March. The event will feature much of what was mentioned in this story, actually! Spars, traditional song and dance, storytelling, the whole shebang, but as we’re all aware there’s a certain etiquette that’s preferred for this, so that’s exactly what I’m going to inform all potential attendants of.

This is meant to be a fun event for all involved, so I’m not going to lay out this draconian set of stiff rules and regulations, however we do expect that everybody who attends would have a modicum of common courtesy and respect for their fellow roleplayers. For all of those who wish to attend, feel free to personally contact myself, Jhorrum, or Thel ingame.


 * ~Jahzeki

Requirements

 * Must be part of the Horde, and it doesn’t matter who wishes to attend, this is an event open to all races.
 * It’s highly recommended that you come on a character that’s able to defend themselves from the beasties of Nagrand, as helping you survive is going to run a tax on everybody else’s patience.
 * Maturity! If you’re notorious for being susceptible to conniption fits and arguments, then nobody’s going to want you there!

Conduct

 * This will be held at Clan Watch in Nagrand.
 * Each duel will be timed, two players will be allowed 15 minutes to spar against their opponent, yes this will be RP-combat, but if both players consent to it, we will allow actual duels.
 * People may inquire to attend this festival with a certain intention in mind. Perhaps a percussionist for the music, or perhaps something willing to dazzle the rest of us with a magical spectacle, the possibilities are all there!