Shazarg, the Dark Ritual

Did Shazarg regret joining the horde?

Never. Recently, even in the musty thick air of the swamps, the changes taking place in the world have been felt. There were rumors that the Goblin Empire was sending troops to some distant islands across the sea. Islands where strange beings pray to strange gods. Rumors spread about the strengthening of Styx. Dark rituals did show strange, terrible things to the swamp sorceress. A huge winged shadow stretched over the world, promising change even for those who did not want it. The shaman of the neighboring tribe – Gracchus – was talking about the Bloodthirsty Prince, who promises his patronage to the orcs. The future that Shazarg tried to see with her magic clearly smelled of blood.

One could sit further in a rotten swamp in the middle of the jungle, waiting for the great forces to once again reshape the world at will, or one could join one of them. Even old Jazu, the vile witch who always pissed off Shazarg, left her stinking dugout and joined the horde. Therefore, the sorceress hung herself with charms and amulets, threw everything necessary for rituals into a bag made of goblin skin (imperial, of course) and went to war.

Did Shazarg like war?

Oh yeah! She adored the feeling of power that came over her as enemies writhed and died under her spells. She reveled in cries and groans, inhaled the aromas of sweat, blood and bile with full breasts, which mixed with sick fumes and created a marvelous bouquet, according to the words of orc sorceress. It can be said that Shazarg was born for war. Not for petty skirmishes, in which she had participated in no small number before, but for the War. A war in which the orcs will show the whole world what they are capable of!

The sorceress was not embarrassed either by the need to constantly move (unlike Jazu and other decrepit farts, she was in excellent physical shape), or by the chaos that was happening on the battlefield (no battle plan can withstand meeting reality, so they say), or by the constant risk of going to dirt. The risk of death – the inevitable companion of any war – stirred Shazarg’s nerves, made the blood run faster through the veins, faster, even faster. To beat in the ears with a shamanic tambourine, to flood the eyes with a veil of cheerful fighting rage … In general, yes, Shazarg liked the war.

Did Shazarg know how to fight?

Better than many. A skilled sorceress, she hit enemies with spells from a distance (and always on target, unlike that lout Sorm with his goblin projectiles). She healed allies that were next to her on the battlefield. She was feared, she was respected. The swamp witch has finally found her place in life.

The rituals that Shazarg performed along with other Orc shamans also came in handy on the battlefield. Through these rituals, the orc army learned the location of the enemy troops, which allowed them to destroy more and more vile imperial goblins every day.

No, Shazarg never regretted not being left to rot in the swamp. War became her life, and her life became war. She secretly hoped that this war would continue for a very long time.