Fortress Forever - FF loremaster position open. Apply here!

As I seem to recall from many lifetimes past, the battle is nearly even between the two. The last battle I saw was of, "Headmaster Oogamoo the Voodoo Priest" and, "Farseer the Elemental Shaman Witchdoctor" when they encountered each other on the plains of the desolate. The priest had been dragging his hemp rope which was woven to the brim with shrunken heads, singing the ancient song of Bulbakya, which is quite catchy if you listen to it.(Sounds like, "Ooh, Eee, Ooh, ahh, ahh, ting tang, walla walla bing bang!") when he had accidentally tripped over one of Farseer's grounded spirit totems. Because the totem was of the spirit, the priest had released all the souls the Shaman had collected to eat for lunch. Distraught at his lost meal, the Shaman carelessly wove an elemental thread of fire and singed nearly a quarter of the voodoo priest's rope. Distraught over his perfectly woven masterpiece, the priest decided to was time to perform surgery, and attempted to impale the shaman with his, "hoo-doo" the stick of poking. He would have succeeded had the Shaman not been covered in the bark of a titan's tree, the bark reacted and chomped off the better half of the stick, thus leaving the voodoo priest with a, "Hoo" stick.

Oh the priest was mad at this as I recall, he began pulling heads off his hemp rope and planting them all over the ground, in his leather pouch of stuffing, he pulled out what looked to be a watering can, and began to sprinkle the heads with a red liquid, the same crimson color of blood. Yet the shaman had seen this once before, the terrible might of a resurrected army had once layed siege the plateau his tribe once lived on. As referenced by his popular book, "When a voodoo priest shoved a soul up my ass, by Farseer."
The shaman planted totems of his own, to which he began to chant to, "Lightning kicks ass, when its not up your ass, Lightning KICKS ass! when its not up your ass, LIGHTNING KICKS ASS, WHEN ITS NOT UP YOUR ASS!"
and BOOM! from the heavens above lightning struck the totems around him, BOOM, BOOM! with the last crack came a most fearsome noise. "AROOOOOOOOOOOO!""AROOOOOOOOOOOO!" Howled a group of savage wolves, yet their skin was not solid, for they were the spirits of past, future, and present. The totems they were bound to now lay inside their transparent flesh. Just as the Shaman's summoning had finished, so had the doctor's heads grown. All around him now were fallen warriors of the past, souls he had captured from many millennium ago. It was then I had remembered where I've seen this priest before before, he was on Time's Magazine back in 1830 as, "Voodoo Dude of the Year." soon the chant began, "Ooga chaka, Ooga, Ooga Ooga, Ooga Chaka!" and they charged at the Shaman, spears and shields materializing in their hands as they lunged for his throat.

They were too slow for the mighty wolves of time, the wolf of past had already latched on too ones throat, presumably two seconds ago, when he as in the past. The wolf of present had already erected a shield around his master, to prevent the others from landing blows, while the wolf of the future was well.... somewhere in the future, he never really was useful. Metal spears scraped and slashed at the magical shield, but only sparks of ancient magic fluttered off its brilliance. The shaman began dancing, hunched over, reaching for the sky, then to the dirt. With this, the clouds began to clutter, the clear skys became dark and gloomy, and the souls of the warriors wavered as a chill like no other pierced their bones. Soon, it began to rain, freezing droplets finding their way to a dust ridden earth, the wolves them selves stood vigilant as the rain shimmered through their bodies. The shaman reached high, and then thrust his arm violently into the ground, lightning from above arced down into the once shrunken heads of the grown men, and like popcorn they exploded, their guts and bones splattering against the magical shield of the shaman. It would almost feel like the battle was lost between the priest and the shaman, but the finale had yet to come.

Oogamoo had realized that his summoning magic was no match for the powers of an elemental shaman. His fate would be sealed if he tried to run away, so he decided his life would be worthy to cause the death of this most powerful shaman. From his throat he pulled out a dull, pale-white object, it was his spine. The blood dripped on the soil has the tail of the spine whipped in the wind, like its own crack of lightning, the priest snapped it straight, and it was as rigid as the earth itself. Before even the wolves could realize what was to come, the voodoo priest reared back to throw the spear... the wolf of the past reappeared on the plane, it had already clamped down on the doctors throat, yet it was too late, the spear was thrown.

The wolf of present knew his shield could not stop such a tainted force, he threw himself into its path, his totem collided with the spear, but 12 inches had pierced through the sacred wood, as the spear kept traveling straight. The wolf of past finished crushing the priest's throat, and had reappeared to sacrifice his life for his master, but yet again, the spear pierced his totem, leaving four inches left, yet alone, and drenched in the rain he had created, the shaman only chuckled as the spear pierced his heart, his eyes widened and he clutched his chest, falling forward as his heat gave out. The heavens cried at the loss of such power, and the sky weeped, the color themselves seem to fade to gray as the two bodies lay there motionless.

But existence it's self seemed to ripple, out of air came a spiritual wolf. The wolf of the future had returned, presumably after hitting up the local poodle on the corner... Well, with that said, the wolf had howled his last earth spoken, "Arroooooo!" as he came to sit on the Shaman's body. As the wind blew, the outline of the wolf began to swirl away into mist. Lo the totem sat there, marking etched all around it in a darkened red, soon a low hum was heard to all those who had gathered at the scene, to one of which I confess was me. The totem's hum grew ever so loud, and it began to spin. Spin it spun till the eye could no longer see its shape, a light grew within, blinding all at the scene. A crack of thunder was heard over-head as we all regained our eye sight, a dust devil was all that was left, yet it was slowly winding down. As the dust settled, a man was seen standing, in his arms were three wooden poles, two with holes through the middle of them. He was cackling was a mad, "Hee Hee Heeeee" and with that he slowly turned and walked away. His laughter was only magnified by the distance, as it drowned out all other sounds, soon he was only a spec in the distance, his body casting the longest shadow from the sun. Yet lay there still on the desolate ground was the voodoo priest, still dead as sure as water falls.

So it is to my knowledge, that a Shaman Witchdoctor would kick a Vodoo Priests ass. If only because shamans have those freakin resurrection spells.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Nezumi

Shaman Witchdoctor or a Voodoo Priest.

Rentok gruffed heartily, letting his head sink into his knees as his head raced with thoughts of the oncoming battle. A wolfs pelt was draped across his back, its jaw jutting out a fists length above his face, shielding his eyes from the bright tundra. He closed his eyes and began to chant something in his native tongue.

"Mekka-lekka hi mekka hiney ho..."

As he repeated the chant, he slowly lifted his head up to the sky, revealing blue paint slathered over his face in the shape of a crow and a bear paw. He slowly raised to his feet, grabbing his club made out of a shaped piece of wood for the haft and a wolfs skull, the same from his garb, for the head.

"Mekka-lekka hi mekka hiney ho..."

His voice began to grow louder as he started walking into the woods that lay in front of him... chanting louder and louder as his pace increased. It was time to end this once and for all...

Akh-Moman awoke from a deep sleep sweating and breathing heavily. His heart raced with fear for what he just saw. Could what he saw be true? "I must prepare", he thought.

Slowly, while gathering his thoughts, he dressed himself for the ritual he was about to begin. He reached into his jewel adorned chest for his various tools... assorted bones, various dolls, viscous liquids and potions, a few candles, salt, and a staff for which to draw lines in the dirt.

He stepped outside and drew a circle in the sand with his staff, filling the lines with salt as he scarred the ground. He made sure to be close enough to the fire to evoke the spirits from within. He began to mumble incoherently.

"Mmmbaaa... Pahhbomaaa... Mmmmb... Aahhh... Peueoa..."

The smoldering ashes of that nights camp fire burst ablaze. The inferno engulfed everything but the circle he stood inside of. The dead trees lit up like matches as the wind howled circles around them. The wind picked up from the air returning from the sudden combustion and the fire returned to normal. He continued to mumble while lighting each candle in the fire, putting them in a circle around him.

"Mmmbaaa... Pahhbomaaa... Mmmmb... Aahhh... Peueoa..."

After all of the candles were lit, he stopped his chant and the fire died. From the smoke arose a spirit, Baron Samedi (pronounced Bah-rohn Saw-meh-dee), spirit of the dead. "Awht bis'ness do you b' 'avin wit me chil'" squealed the spirit.

"The shaman from the tribe to the north is coming to end it tonight... I want your protection!" yelled Akh-Moman, with a gulp.

"So b' et my chil'... do not be failin' me naow..." the spirit said with a whisper as the spirit dissipated into a poof of smoke.

The night had just begun...

His voice began to grow louder as he started walking into the woods that lay in front of him... chanting louder and louder as his pace increased. It was time to end this once and for all...

Akh-Moman awoke from a deep sleep sweating and breathing heavily. His heart raced with fear for what he just saw. Could what he saw be true? "I must prepare", he thought.

Slowly, while gathering his thoughts, he dressed himself for the ritual he was about to begin. He reached into his jewel adorned chest for his various tools... assorted bones, various dolls, viscous liquids and potions, a few candles, salt, a small dagger, and a staff for which to draw lines in the dirt.

He stepped outside and drew a circle in the sand with his staff, filling the lines with salt as he scarred the ground. He made sure to be close enough to the fire to evoke the spirits from within. He began to mumble incoherently.

"Mmmbaaa... Pahhbomaaa... Mmmmb... Aahhh... Peueoa..."

The smoldering ashes of that nights camp fire burst ablaze. The inferno engulfed everything but the circle he stood inside of. The dead trees lit up like matches as the wind howled circles around them. The wind picked up from the air returning from the sudden combustion and the fire returned to normal. He continued to mumble while lighting each candle in the fire, putting them in a circle around him.

"Mmmbaaa... Pahhbomaaa... Mmmmb... Aahhh... Peueoa..."

After all of the candles were lit, he stopped his chant and the fire died. From the smoke arose a spirit, Baron Samedi (pronounced Bah-rohn Saw-meh-dee), spirit of the dead. "Awht bis'ness do you b' 'avin wit me chil'" squealed the spirit.

"The shaman from the tribe to the north is coming to end it tonight... I want your protection!" yelled Akh-Moman, with a gulp.

"So b' et my chil'... do not be failin' me naow..." the spirit said with a whisper as the spirit dissipated into a poof of smoke.

The night had just begun...

Rentok raced into the woods, no longer chanting. His breath remained still... the run did not even begin to phase him. 'It will end tonight', he thought as he raced down the trail to where the priest slept at night.

"It will end tonight... It will end tonight... It will end tonight... It wi..."

*Snap*

The shaman looked around, unsure of what he was about to encounter. He took a sniff of the air and something different was in the air... Magick...

*Thud*

Rentok fell to the ground, face first, as a large tree limb struck his head. He blacked out for a second, but only a second. When he awoke he saw two legs in front of him. "How could the Gods fail me now?"

With a quick burst of strength, he pushed himself and the limb off the ground, grabbing his mace on the way up, swinging it up at the legs. *WACK!* He hit him... hard.

The person fell over with a thud, unmoving... legs unbuckling. As Rentok arose he saw that this was no person... no, this was a doll. A large doll. "What kind of trickery is THIS!" he screamed, echoing seemingly forever into the distance, "COME OUT AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!"

Akh-Moman knew it was time to play fair, although the fight had just begun. He leaped out of the tree he was in, holding a doll and a dagger in his hands. He began to circle the mighty shaman slowly, staying low to the ground to ensure he could dodge at a moments notice.

The shaman had blood lust in his eyes. He let loose a mighty yell and jumped with his club above his head towards the priest, bringing down the club as he fell. The priest had jumped out of the way and slashed at the shaman, only scratching the pelt that Rentok was wearing.

Again, the shaman yelled. He lifted his left leg up and smashed it to the ground as he sideswiped with his club. The priest was unable to react due to the might of the shamans stomp and was knocked deftly to the ground. Rentok knew that this would be his only chance.

The priest knew he had to react fast and began to jab the dagger into the doll which had a piece of the shamans hair on it. The shaman screamed in pain but didn't flinch. Blood drained out of his body, staining the ground and his pelt a rusty red.

Rentok continued his swing from earlier raising the club from his left to his back and then over and onto the priests skull smashing it with a satisfying splat. "It's over... I've won..." he whispered as he fell over. He was loosing blood, and fast. He knew he couldn't go on.

Rentok whispered a prayer, unable to finish before he died from the loss of blood.

The morale of the story is: Don't fuck with magic users.