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Shamen of the bloodskull tribe, priest of Moshran, orc, these are some of the words which could describe the figure walking through the wood this day. Staff in hand and an old ragged robe covering his features, Kaja Wolfagen makes his way slowly through trollsbanes southern forests.

More was clear now. The trees about him were becomming more scarce, and the sounds of laughter and argueing could be heard ahead.

Unaware of the happenings of the day just past, the orc decides to take the path along the river bank, maybe on the way he could throw a evil jest towards one of the citizens of the town, his pace steady, and his staff slowly guiding him through the woods, the shamen approaches the river bank and looks across. Something was not right..

Look to the humans and other lesser races across the stream he can see many are wounded, and more than there normally would be wear arms at thier sides.

'Kaja'
'Its Kaja'

The cry went up from many people, but the shamens eyes rest upon a old orc woman, and a smile crosses his lips which gives him the look of as if he were snarling. The orcess turns away from him looking down one sentance leaving her partched lips.

' Foolish young Kaja leave '

And more voices raise in the crowd,
' Kill the shamen! '
' Jail him! '
' You Jail him '

With the interest shown to ants the orc ignores these people his eyes scanning the crowd, with a shake of his head the shamen turns east and starts to walk away when one voice peirces the turmoil.

' Kaja! i shall jail him '
' Just burn him priest and be over with it, lets see how fast he can move '

John Irenicus, and the dwarf, the one who worshipped the lesser gods, what was his name, yes Galim. Turning his head back to the crowd Kaja clenches his staff more tightly and lets out a ragged laugh examining the two men.

Ahhh my time yes..... the thought race's through the shamens mind as the finely clad dwarfs raises his staff to the sky calling out the name of his god.

' By Irmorom! '

Pulling a wand from the folds of his robe. made from the bone of his last sacriface, elven finelly worn down to fit his grasp, the shamen holds it before him.

The clouds seem to part and a inferno of flame seem to ingulf the shamen who continues to laugh.

' Moshran laughs! '

The orc breathes in the flames, he can feel them inside of him. Every second the inferno grows, all has been burned away, the robes he once wore, his books and his components all disintergrated within the intense heat of this holy fire, but his wand still survives untouched. As the flames eat away at his mortal skin, the shamen lets out a cry of pain and then he disapears, to all who view the scene they would had seen the shamen disintergrate before thier very eyes. The intense flames doing thier task.

...................................................................................................

Fergesh sits within the skull cave, biting into the blood soacked lamb before him, as he forces another beer down his throat.

' Har! Yub Dumb oomies,, Hurrr! '

Shouting to the guards who sit around him playing bones the orc lifts his head and sniffs.

' What be that smell '

Standing from the table, the orc slams his fist into one of the guards face, which gives great cause for laughter all round before he starts to make his way to the end of the cave.

Upon reaching the entrance to the shrine, the orc sniffs once more. It smelled like a feast, throwing open the door Fergesh walks into the place of worship and stops in his tracks.

Laying upon the alter, naked as the day he was born, apart from a layer of severe burns and a peice of bone clutched in his hand was thier shamen. Thinking him dead Fergesh approaches in a cautious manner, wait....

The shamens eyes, red as blood were following his actions across the room.