Every visit in Zul’Gurub is worth it with you guys around. Keep it up <3
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Hey everyone!
Due to an influx of new apps, Shadow of the Empires will be briefly closing our applications. Always good to see more people taking part in troll roleplay, and we welcome our new members with open arms!
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Rebuilding the city of Zul’Gurub is a process that will take many, many years - but we have to take one step at a time, no?
The trolls have just returned from a quick reagent trip to Westfall, where we battled gnolls and tied ourselves together to prevent getting blown away by a massive, earth-shattering tornado. Thankfully everyone returned to the city in one piece - except someone thought it was a good idea to throw an axe into the tornado, which is the perfect opportunity to create some friendly fire.
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I’ve only been with Shadow of the Empires for about three weeks, but it’s been a blast so far. Good activity, immersive events and a fun community make for an enjoyable time, and I’d recommend SotE to any troll seeking a more down-to-earth roleplaying experience!
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So many travels to and from the city lately, so little time. The Great and Mighty Grik reads the fire-light in the sky and shares what the Loa has to say but no one listens to poor Grik! Still, Grik does what he can for these noble trolls, these persevering few!
Hop along for some fine trolling!
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Basics of Worship
Snakes softly hissed all around Sejo as he diligently strode past pits of snakes. He wore his usual humble clothes; raggedy red-green pants and thin cloth bracers, with his coiling staff slung over his back. He had come from a campfire conversation by the logs, chatting to Azju and Bah’Zul about mundane subjects - Nalorakk, honey, and the upcoming festival of Bwonsamdi among others.
But here in the Coil, Sejo had unfinished business; he was tending to the shrine of Hethiss. Azju had pulled him away from his work earlier to resume the taming of Sar’kaz, his emerald raptor. And though he’d taken a moment for a distracting chat at the logs after, he couldn’t dally too long - Hethiss’ children were everywhere, and Sejo wouldn’t want the snake Loa to think he didn’t care for his shrine duties.
And so he left the logs with the excuse that he was cleaning. He brought a wooden bucket filled with water and a dry cloth, intending to scrub the grand sandstone statues that loomed over the lower parts of the Coil. Everything here needed to be well cared for - Hethiss deserved that at the very least, Sejo thought.
He expertly scrambled up the statue, climbing from the base to the tusk to the nose hole. He placed the bucket of water in the eye socket he didn’t clean for easy access and dunked the cloth in. These were the very basic forms of worship; praying, tending, cleaning. Would that it were all this simple, he thought to himself as he scrubbed the right eye socket with the damp cloth.
The Coil reminded him of his past. Of when he was still living in Zul’Gurub with his family, before his self-imposed exile. Sometimes, he wondered what life would’ve been if he had stayed - would he even be alive right now? Or would it have made a difference in the fate of the troll capital if he didn’t run?
Cities fall when we abandon our Masters’ temples and shrines. When fear fills our hearts, while the sole thing to be feared in this world is the Loa’s judgement, boomed a memory through his mind. His mother and her words had haunted him ever since that eerie trip to another realm, and the Coil provided no break from that - if anything, it was the opposite because the snake god’s shrine reminded him of his family.
Sejo shook his head and continued to scrub the eye socket, removing a thin layer of dust from it. He shouldn’t think about such things - his mother was wrong, and he was sure of that. Sejo knew she had a silver tongue like no other and to mull on her words would only instil unnecessary doubt.
I am alive and you are dead, he reminded himself. It was plain and simple, but the troll clung onto it like a child to a toy.
I am alive and you are dead.
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Things are never quite as they seem in the jungle.
Reports of trolls gone missing have reached the trolls of the city. A scouting party is quickly assembled, and they set out to see if they can find any clues.
After dealing with poachers, exiles, a troll woman wanting to trade a secret for a secret, and finding a distressed raptor that had a crystallized trollish hand clutched around the reins, the trolls are still left wondering where they may have gone - but the clues are pointing towards further north, past Zul’Kunda.
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Defiled and Devoured
It took Sejo very long to fall asleep that night. He tossed and turned in his hut, unable to stop thinking about the attempted invocation mere hours before. He and Tar’ahk tried to summon the great snake Loa for help in curing the petrified trolls; they drew snake motives with a hastily-made pigment and spoke prayers as they hoped to attract Him.
Strangely, it came of little avail; the motives glimmered brightly for a moment - and that was it. That was all that happened. Was it the lack of a direct offering? Did he misspeak his prayer? Sejo couldn’t wrap his head around it, rolling onto his side.
Eventually, the snake mon sleeps. He dreams.
In one moment, Sejo sees himself back in the med hut. He’s sat on his knees before the petrified trolls, a dab of white pigment still on his fingers whilst he mouthed still words - this was the invocation. Behind him is a line of large serpents, all vastly different in shape, colour and size. A skeletal wind serpent reminds him of Hakkar - none, however, reminiscent of Hethiss.
In the following moment, Sejo finds himself in the Coil where he is made witness to a horrifying sight. A tall, green serpent with radiant scales stands in the middle of the shrine - this was Hethiss, no doubt about it. But something is wrong; the Slitherer is beset by the serpents from the med hut. Sejo is forced to watch the other serpents tear off each of Hethiss’ radiant scales and they devour his flesh before the darkness closes in.
Sejo jolted awake, rivulets of cold sweat running down his back. He propped himself up with his hands, his breathing shallow and quick. The thin troll rubbed the rheum from his eyes and sat up, thinking. This was no ordinary dream, he thought - especially not after the failed invocation in the med hut the very same day. Sejo grabbed his curving staff and pushed himself to his feet. Perhaps a trip to the Coil would produce more fruitful answers than his foggy mind ever could.
The moment Sejo stepped into the dimly-lit Coil, a wooden snake statuette concealed in one of the Coil’s crannies caught his attention. Though it was very similar in shape and size to the other figurines that littered the snake sanctum, Sejo recognized it as one of the serpents from his dream. It wasn’t crafted in the likeness of great Hethiss - it was in the likeness of another Loa.
Here, in Hethiss’ domain.
He murmured angrily and grabbed the serpentine statuette. This meant that the worship of the Scaled One was defiled by other Loa; this meant the desecration of His sanctum. When Sejo looked around, he saw more figurines like the one he picked up - figurines that must’ve been passed off as Hethiss’ in times past. But not anymore.
The serpents that devoured Hethiss symbolized the worship of other snake Loa in the Coil. They devoured Him, for their reverence in the Coil ate away at the Slitherer’s power. Their worship diluted the veneration of Him - and Sejo’s dream was a cry for help.
Sejo struggled to understand why Hethiss didn’t come through. The Loa had done so in times past, even whilst other trolls muddied His sanctum with their foul Loa. Did it come to a boiling point? Was it the interference of another troll? Or was it simply the lack of a presented offering?
Whatever the answer to that question, Sejo would take care of this first.
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Shadowlands has arrived!
While our trolls won’t venture into the afterlife, we did suffer from the repercussions of a Certain Warchief’s actions. The Scourge wrought havoc on Duskwood, and made their way down into the jungle. A week filled of intense events fighting off the hordes ensued, and the trolls are busy recovering from the loss of friends and family, as well as repairing the damages the city’s defenses suffered during the assaults.
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Cursed to Croak
Sejo’s form twisted and warped in the flash of a second. His eyes bulged and his body shrank. His skin turned teal and became smooth, his fingers and toes sprouted tiny, sticky pads on their tips and he clumsily hopped instead of walking. Any word he tried to bring out was reduced to a low croak or a ribbit, but he retained his trollish intelligence.
Thankfully, each transformation was only short-lived - just when he’d started to get used to this new form and its accompanying instincts, Sejo found himself back as his troll self. It never came at the same time; sometimes it was early and sometimes it was late. He hated it because it prevented him from going about his usual doings at the Coil; one wrongly-timed transformation and Sejo would swiftly meet his end by the creatures he idolizes so much.
The frog curse made sleeping like usual impossible. Just when he’d start to drift off to the unwaking world, he changed into a pathetic frog again. That he had been cursed made him angry - the trolls of Zul’Gurub helped the Bloodscalps and came in good faith, but were repaid with malicious curses. Emissary Zallah’s honeyed words turned out to be hollow lies, serving only to lead the trolls of Zul’Gurub into an ambush.
Stupid. It was all stupid - he should’ve known better. Sejo already disliked the Bloodscalps for their obstinate quarrelling and wanton aggression. Their ruins were crumbling and their strength was dwindling, and it showed in how poorly they weathered the undead invasion. Their guards were tense, their ruins were littered with rubble and debris, and their entire capital stank of death. But even in their weakened state, the stubborn Bloodscalps kept their hostility. Even on their knees, they’d stab a helping hand - something that only further fueled Sejo’s disdain for the Bloodscalp tribe.
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The spirits granted the trolls little time to recover after the Scourge’s invasion. An act of kindness to try and repair the city’s relations with the Bloodscalps quickly turned sour as they found themselves hexxed in every way imaginable. Some turned into frogs at random intervals, some couldn’t stop yelling or dancing - needless to say, the trolls were not happy.
A sip from the sacred spring of Nek’mani was the only way to restore the trolls to normal, but even that didn’t come without it’s challenges, for it was guarded by a spirit who would only give them permission if they granted her gifts and an audience.
Now that the hexxes have been dealt with, the trolls are taking a moment to breathe, for next week it is time for our annual Christmas events!
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Plenty of work to be done in a city after neglect, attacks and general mucking about!
The grumpy stoneworker mutters angrily about the lack of proper helpers while going about her business on a daily basis.
Today is a mixed day however. She may despise going out into nature but a break is always welcome as the trolls are to head out for a gathering to celebrate the new cycle!
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After being enslaved by a group of Talanji-opposing Zandalari and put to work for them in Vol’dun, our lowly trolls broke free and now find themselves in Nazmir as they try to survive the rough continent of Zandalar. While food and water run low, tensions run high - and only time will tell if all make it back to Zul’Gurub in one piece.
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This seems really cool, all the best luck to you guys.
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Having survived the murky swamps of Nazmir, our trolls wend their way through Zuldazar’s humid jungle as they seek out Zandalari capital in hopes of finding a way back to Stranglethorn. But their plans change following a chance encounter with a particularly pompous follower of Rezan, and they now spend a few days assisting at the Temple of Rezan in exchange for a pouch of well-needed coin.
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The trolls have made it to Dazar’alor at last and have even secured a ship home! Now, they spend their time trying to make more gold in hopes of securing payment for their boat rides doing any work they can get. From hunting bounties to running shady errands to shoveling dinosaur dung — the trolls will do any job for a bit of gold. Come find us in the city if you’re interested in troll roleplay!
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After months of hardships, struggles of survival, encounters with the Zandalari pantheon, and having to put in proper work to acquire gold, the trolls are finally back in Zul’Gurub!
They have taken a few days to rest up properly, but have slowly gotten back to their normal day-to-day life. If you’re interested in joining us, don’t be afraid to give us a poke - our recruitment is open!
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Worship and regular activities has returned to Zul’Gurub after their involuntary trip to Zandalar. Now it is time to tie up some loose ends and work on fortifying the city through various means. The next couple of months shall also be dedicated to learning about the Amani culture and pantheon - something I’m sure our fellow Gurubashi are thrilled about.
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We’ve spent the past weeks picking worms off the corpses of dead mindslaves, battled a wayward child of Shadra and performed a ritual in hopes of fending off any mosquito swarms the incoming monsoon might bring. If you’re interested in getting some true troll roleplay in, don’t hesitate to seek us out in Zul’Gurub!
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The trolls will be gathering their weapons and supplies and heading on a short trip to the Blasted Lands! In an effort to restore Zul’Gurub to it’s former glory, the trolls have decided to re-build some of the tiki masks that acted as a defense for the city in the days of old, and the one resting outside of Hethiss’ Coil needs a potent enough ingredient to be empowered.
After we return from our little trip, we will kick off our Amani celebrations, which are sure to be rowdy!
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