On the trail of the WarSouls (week 11) Deep Philosophical Issues of a Vampyr Nation

#1

–{Mag Buskt (Narrator), Yagogi’al, Lalder, Mama Rapigog of Kul Gul Rapi and Vektor of Gang of Uf Mag’og may post to this thread, others may not]–

The Mag Buskt had teleported them all to the ruins of Jamesville. They witnessed the great betrayal by the Church of One, and the Olgog allies being driven off.

Mag Buskt roared in disappointment, "Here i have come to face the Avatar of Warmonger, instead the Earthers feed the Warmonger with raw power.

I can taste the presence of Warmonger’s servants, but I cannot see them.

I regret what occurred at that town. I was unconscious. I had not been able to feed since awakening. And the feast was interrupted before I could feed on the gog my champion labelled a criminal. My hunger is many centuries old and I needed to feed. Now that I have fed, I awoke after my kuggoryyan and its nightmares were killed off.
Now I have no army to counter the Dead, and no monster to counter the monstrosities who serve Warmonger.

Now we have time to plan. And then after we plan, we must crush this den of demonic power."

#2

Vektor took in the events of the last few hours as he surveyed one devastated battlefield to another. He desperately wanted to rip into Mag Buskt for his stupidity in action, but he chose the diplomatic card instead.

“Mag Buskt, I have no idea how long you’ve been asleep, but it’s been awhile. Things have changed since you were last… active. We understand, only now, your desire to defeat the MagMagGor. But you have to give us a little more to work with here. We know nothing about you.” He looked over at Mam Rapigog and shrugged, “Ok most of us don’t. You, in turn, know nothing about us or who we may consider a criminal. And since you don’t know who we are, you don’t know that we can raise an army… together, to fight the gor of the Olgog.”

He looked at his peers with pride and respect. “I am Vektor of the Gang of the Uf Mag’og. Our leader is Urog, who is currently in Brez uniting the gog of the north. And we happen to know this town of Jamestown well, so all is not lost.” He looked over to right, allowing the olgog standing there to introduce themselves.

#3

Mag Buskt gruntes like a feral at that, "Dargor (Nightmare) army against Torkolgogs (Warmongers Dead) wont feed the MagMag Gor. Your olgog armies will feed the MagMag Gor.

Plus how ignorant have Gogs become that they dont remember the tribe of Mag Buskt?
Have they forgotten my tribes heroism against the Yyan Gor??
I am Mag Buskt cheiftian and master of the ancient learnings of the Hitha’kridon (Nightmare Lords) and tasked by the ancient ones to stop the Avatar of Warmonger."

#4

Vektor frowned. “Some among us do remember. My gog don’t. Been fighting for survival ever since the Earthers got here. Sorry. Perhaps they,” he points to the rest of the olgog gathered, “have a better answer for you.”

#5

Auf Lalder says "I am Auf Lalder of the Herd of Auf Lal’ al. I remember you. Back from when I was a juvi and before I became an Aufgog. Which is why when then attack on my tribe, my gogs and Tla’loc’al came to so much a surprise. When Lurtor told me what happened on the Isle, I had concern, but hoped it had been for the best. Then the attack. That attack is one of the biggest reasons we united against you.

But that is behind us now. We have the MagMagGor to talk of. And I do not understand the MagMagGor fully. Much of that information was lost as the Olgogs retreated to the lands we now hold. So I myself do not understand how Olgogs defending against warmonger attacks will help the warmonger.

We have battled and defeated their squads a few times in just the recent months. But prior to that, they were quiet. From 4 of my gogs, I do know the location of their factory."

(OCC Player doesn’t understand the argument that Nightmares fighting won’t help the warmonger, but Olgogs will. SO I figured I would make Lalder ask that. )

#6

“Deez are tings lost to gog. History so ancient it blow away in da sand.” Mama Rapigog noted. “Mag Bruskt.” She said almost fearfully, she had betrayed the eldest vampyr, but she had done so for the right reasons in her mind. “How da Bruskti control the nightmares. This be a ting none can do, the dargor ignore us but we have no control over them?”

She hated feeling like a child again next to a being so terrible and powerful. She knew she could prove to Mag bruskt that stopping war monger was a cause near to her heart. As the battle unfolded she noticed the war souls and others slip into Jamesville.

#7

(week 12), They arrive at Jamesville after its been destroyed. Mag Buskt’s rage has grown as he sees the devastation and realized he failed to stop it.

#8

Mag Buskt turned to the assembled and said, “When I was but a child, all I would hear was how I would see the death of the Warmonger. That I or one of my line would destroy him utterly, and banish his power from Der’al for as long as the blood of my tribe flowed on this planet.
In those days, we Olgogs were split into many tribes but all the tribes shared the Belief of the Der’alna. The flames of the world which flickered in all colors. This united us as no other belief did. Some tribes worshipped the ancient Auf Totems, some worshipped animal totems, and others the Sa’orna in the Der’al. Some worshipped themselves, and others fell in line. Some even worshipped the Yyan Gor and through them the Mag Mag Gor.”

#9

“When i finally bedded down to die, I knew I would one day rise again,” said the Mag Buskt, “For the stories told me I would if a new Mag Buskt did not rise. When I saw how degenerate the Nosferatu Buskt who failed to raise me, I knew Der’al had changed without me. The ages between then and my release were too many for any mind to remain sane.”

#10

“Der’al has found new ways of coping,” said Mag Buskt in anger, “And time has flowed on without me. But i am still the eldest cheiftain of these lands and by rights should conquer every inch of this continent and force both gog and earther and all to kneel before me,” said Mag Buskt finally releasing his hold on the leyas which translated his elegant speech, and grunted a few times without letting the curse words in ancient Nightmare lord language be translated.

Then he began translating again saying, "The Warmonger feeds on pointless war. War involving sentient living beings, war culling sentient living beings, war destroying the lives of import to sentient beings. Dargor (nightmares) are just made from the Leyas. They have no lifeforce of their own. They have no hopes, no dreams, no desires, until they kill and consume their creator and steal a bit of that creator in the process. In battle against Warmonger’s Dead, the death of Nightmares does not feed the Warmonger.

However the death, even the suffering of your gogs in battle feeds the Warmonger. When the many infantrygog feel the fear coiling in their gut as the enemy attacks rain down upon him, that feeds the Warmonger. When the infantrygog witnesses atrocities of war, a piece of them is wounded and that wound drips endlessly into the mouths of the Warmonger.

Nightmares do not experience any of this. They are created, they fight, they are destroyed. And in that they act as bulkwark against the Warmonger’s physical followers, giving the Balancers time to banish the ancient evil.

In the Empire of the Hitha’kridon (Nightmare Lords), the Great Itha was a being who had both mastered riding the True Nightmares, and learned to banish the Ancient Evils for the Peace of Falos.

The Mag Buskt is the Great Itha in Olgog form. My tribe learned from the Great Itha before he left to travel across the desert and face the armies of the K’ias Emperor.

The Great Itha died in these deserts. And where his body fell the sand hardened into stone, and the stone fed upon all who came near.

When the Nosferatu Buskt brought back the stone to me, I was awoken by the power of the Great Itha and his coterie of Nightmare Lord servants."

#11

So many thoughts flooded through the mind of the elder Gor’ab as the eldest chieftain in the lands told tales as if he were just a cub and new to the ways of the world. As of recent happenings, Yagogi’al learned of a place full of k’ias which related to tales of the nightmare lord. Yagogi’al had been wrong about Mag Buskt, all of the United Tribes had been wrong. Now they sat together as he schooled them all about the old ways, while his powerful blade sat at Yagogi’al’s side. Things were very odd indeed, but this was a crucial time for the Olgog people.

“Mag Buskt, I fear that I have remained quiet for too long as i was greatly entranced by your tales of the old ways. The Olgog people are meant for great things, and this is only the beginning of that moment. There was some time ago that I wandered away from my own tribe because I felt a powerful presence in the lands that we travel. Though the being did not actually say anything to me, I witnessed his greatness and I feel this might be an omen for our kind. This is the beginning of our people working together and eventually living together. I have already sworn that I would raise no weapon against you, and now we look to you for guidance to fight together.”

#12

“The Torkol who serve Mag Mag Gor must have a place of deep spiritual corruption to bring through enough of the hell dimensions to craft the hellforged weapons their Warmachines use. In the mind of the Bruskti I learned the Mag Mag Gor has a Torkol factory to the south. They thought that is where the place of corruption would be. I know they are wrong. The Mag Mag Gor would not allow that rip in dimensions anywhere near devices he had to rely upon in this dimension. It would seep and stew and corrupt reality around it. It would burn and boil at the edges making the tear larger every time it was opened.
This we must find, and we must rededicate the hole before I pass through to take the fight to the Mag Mag Gor in his home.
But first we must find this pit of horror. Then I will die in one final battle. It is the only way I can make the prophecy true in some form.
Speak well of the Tribe of Mag Buskt.
In the little time I have seen of the Bruskti, only the Kul Gul Rapi remembers the responsibility of ancient ways. The other Bruskti have become misguided under the lingering influences of the Nosferatu Buskt. I have little time left to fix things but i can leave a child, so the bloodline of the Mag Buskt does not die out when I am destroyed.”

There was a desperation and deep depression to his tone. A lonelyness that spoke of years of preparation culminating in failure. What had he to show for it? No real tribe, no family, no respect, an outside, a loner, who carries a truth none want to hear. Because it frightened them. When had the strong beings become so weak that fear of the truth created their hate.
But these were just the thoughts of the Mag Buskt not something he expressed to the tribals around him.

#13

Auf Lalder says “How and where do we find this hole, this pit of horror? I can send scouts out, but I’m not sure what to tell them to look for. And would that be within the Olgog lands?”

#14

Vektor listened while the Mag Buskt felt sorry for himself. Well, he thought, that’s what you get for thinking so highly of yourself.

“Mag Buskt, history isnt my greatest strength, so forgive me if I’m missing the point: but who is to say your destiny isn’t ready to be fulfilled? It may not happen today, but it doesn’t mean that you’re strength needed by the olgog to serve as champion, guide, or auf. The defeat of the MagMag Gor as prophesied didn’t come to pass today. But do we really know what comes tomorrow??”

#15

Mag Buskt left the group on a hill overlooking the ruins of camp Hharmoon.

He walked into the night until only darkness surrounded him.
He could hear the whispers of the Nightmare Lords and could hear their voices speaking of a grand army.
An army of soulless monsters being bred over hundreds of years from Earther stock to the east.
He could hear the army calling to him and he wondered if maybe these Olgogs were right.

Maybe the time of prophecy was still to come. If not…if not…

Mag Buskt howled in the night. He howled for the dead slain by both sides. He howled for those who lost everything. He howled for the extinct tribes. He howled for the oppressed tribes and he howled for the lost tribes.

And when his cry ended all who heard it felt the hole in the soul of the large chieftain.

He grabbed a handfull of sand and it coalesced into a stone similar to Hob Tor. It flowed into a spiked crown and he placed it on his head.

It was time to rebuild the Tribe of Mag Buskt. And all who serve the Gor would suffer.