Gruugg Half-tusk half-orc barbarian 4/fighter 2; AC: 18 HP: 52 Movement: 30 (40 base); Str 22 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 10 Wis 12 Cha 8; Feats: Power attack, Throw anything, Point blank shot, Cleave, Far shot; Special qualities: fast movement, Rage 2/day, uncanny dodge, trap sense +1, fighter bonus feats; Possessions: +1 cold iron greatsword, gauntlets of ogre power +2, spiked orc boots, snowcat pelt, Rhino hide armor
Chapter 9. Let It Begin!
Gruugg blinked furiously after the identity of this striking female was revealed. Her skin was much darker than Sienna's, her ears longer and more pointed, her build was more slender. Red elven eyes gleamed sternly back at him, as if trying to deny him as the object of her daughter's affection—at least that's what Gruugg imagined was going on in her mind. A long, shining, moon-white waterfall of hair cascaded down in unfettered waves from her head. Some turned at her shoulder to fall forward over her front, but most of the hair was found falling untrimmed to the backs of her knees. Ansali's white and silver robes were more ornate than the garb of her followers. Patterns of silver formed intricate designs and images of dancing elves with swords under a moonlit night sky. Gruugg's entirely masculine eyes also caught on to the idea that there was probably nothing underneath those loose white robes worn by Ansali or any of the other priestesses.
Gruugg felt the look he was getting from Sienna, and quickly brought his wandering eyes back to her. He merely shrugged and chuckled nervously, hoping she didn't see the flush of his skin for what it was.
Apology accepted, she took up his meaty arm in both hands, and turned to Ansali.
"Mother, this is Gruugg, my rescuer and my very dear friend. We escaped nearly unscathed, thanks to Gruugg's strength and skill with his blade."
Ansali spoke, her voice smooth, silky and sweet, with the clarity, thought and wisdom that came from centuries of experience and contemplation of the divine.
"Yes, I see this with abundant clarity, Sienna, my daughter. Rhinock of Lurkwood made mention of him to prepare us. It is not often that a half-orc savage warrants such . . . fond attentions," she said. Her final statement, accompanied by a significant look from him to her beloved daughter, brought a bit of a dampening to the joy and excitement on Sienna's face.
"True as that may be, mother, I have found that times such as these bring forth heroes from even the most unlikely places. A good thing too, for how boring would life be if it were always so predictable?"
Ansali could only nod in surrender, when a ram's horn was sounded. The blower also called out for the leaders of each faction assembled there to gather for their first conference.
"It appears that I am summoned to meeting," Ansali observed. "We have much to discuss and plan, if victory is to be ours. Will you two be joining us? I do not think that Rhinock would object, considering your vitality to the mission."
"Well, I was hoping to get a seat," Sienna confessed jokingly. "After all, I was the Harper agent sent to gather information about Kralgar's intentions and capabilities. Rhinock has been helping me go through my notes, to make sure I don't present too much information at the first meeting."
Mother and daughter had started to wander forth in the direction of the meeting, guided by other attendees who were less distracted by conversation.
Gruugg took a step to go with them, but something indefinable caused him to linger. He glanced through the trees, thinking he heard something. The half-orc noticed an area of lit torches in the general direction of the Uthgardt camp. Sienna and her mother were too far ahead for him to catch up now, and besides, the Uthgardt were more promising of a good time than was some long-winded, boring meeting with people he didn't care about—except for Sienna, of course.
In the waning ambient light, Gruugg beheld a group of a dozen or so Uthgardt warriors engaged in some kind of group activity. Gruugg understood the inbred prejudice Uthgardt had for orcs and their kin, so he chose to keep a respectful distance, leaning casually against the closest tree.
Four men stood out from the others: one instructor and three instructees, by the look of it. Gruugg had seen the format before in Griffon's Nest, where he was taught to hone his fighting skills. The instructor was clearly the oldest and most experienced as evidenced by his graying hair and tanned skin. The man seemed as tough as leather, and was sketched with lines of age and long battle scars. Though he lacked some of the youthful tone of his students, his muscles had kept their formidable size. None of his three students, all strong and sturdy young men, regarded him as a weakened elder, but rather as a respected veteran.
The half-orc barbarian tried to decipher the specific lesson this day. They had no weapons in hand. The veteran was positioning his students' arms and legs, and adjusting the angles of their shoulders. Gruugg thought that this was most likely an impromptu lesson about how to take on two or more opponents at one time without weapons.
The veteran showed them the proper form of body as he saw it, then let them get comfortable with moving their bodies in such a way. Finally he set up a scenario to demonstrate the effectiveness of his teachings. He put himself in the middle of his students, inviting them to come at him. Out of respect, his pupils were reluctant to even think about causing him any harm, but the veteran kept insisting. The Uthgardt bystanders were making their rowdy mocking comments, and yet obviously eager to see the old one prove his point.
Finally the veteran's insistence worked. The three young warriors each drew out their weapons, strangely claw-like, triple-bladed punch daggers which Gruugg had never seen before. They tried coming in all at once, shouting and weapons raised.
The veteran's moves were quick and devastating. Gruugg might have missed them if he hadn't been paying such close attention during instruction.
With practiced technique, the veteran turned his shoulder to avoid the first blow, keeping his feet spaced wide for balance. Then he snatched that attacker's weapon hand before it could be withdrawn and added his own force to the reverse momentum, bringing his entire body with him, and making the other two miss with their own attacks. A flex and push of the veteran's arms caused the hand in his grasp to betray and strike its owner's face. The unexpected blow opened the captive fist's fingers, and the weapon fell to harmlessly pierce the earth by his feet.
The other two attackers didn't continue in their momentum, but they quickly wished they had, when the veteran braced his feet and shifted his hands on his victim: one stayed on the wrist, bringing the captive arm behind the back; and the other moved around to the center of said back. Once in place, the veteran warrior heaved with all his body's strength to shove the student unavoidably in the path of the gawking pair.
To their credit, they did manage to sprawl out of the way before being clobbered into oblivion. The human missile was less fortunate, for the veteran's amount of force was great enough to keep him going in that direction, until—as fate would have it—he skidded to a halt by bumping into Gruugg and his tree.
All sounds of brevity and a rowdy good time were instantly hushed by this interruptive contact with the half-orc. One to the next, Gruugg made proud eye contact with all he could until the one before him rudely pushed Gruugg back to avoid skin contact. Like most humans of the Savage North, this Uthgardt ruffian came close to Gruugg's stature, but had not the same girth of arm, nor did he possess the elongated canines, which the half-orc bared without hesitation at the lack of courtesy. Didn't he know that this half-orc was an important figure in the battle to come?
"Watch where you's goin', Uthgardt dolt!" Gruugg jabbed.
"What? So this mongrel does have a tongue. Careful, swine, or I will snatch it out of your j—OOOOGH!" The final syllable was interrupted when Gruugg's forehead put the human's own skull to the test, and found it wanting.
Gruugg hoisted the dazed northman up and across his shoulders, viciously shook away the blurriness from his eyes, and carried the young man back to his own people for care.
The veteran took his wayward student with a look of disapproval at the unconscious. The young man's peers were not so eager to take this all with a shrug. They hefted their triple-bladed daggers and took flanking positions on Gruugg.
"You have bitten more than your mouth can chew, I think!" one taunted.
"Yeah! Hey, do you think this could be the filthy half-orc that the druid spoke of? The one we came all this way to help?" Well at least someone knew who he was.
"You sure do need help now, piglet!" With that the first one swung. Gruugg had no time to think, just react. Fortunately he retained something from the day's lesson, and turned his body to avoid the blow in the way that the veteran had instructed. Instead of reaching out with his hands, he let his iron studded, orcish boots form his reply. Gruugg drove the heavy blunted points of his footgear up into the man's stomach, propelling him a full foot up into the air. The young man doubled over, clutching his gut and gasping to bring the frightened wind back into his lungs.
Gruugg's other opponent was next to swing, but Gruugg saw it coming and nudged the breathless man's body up just in time for him to intercept the latter's hurtling weapon in the shoulder. The young attacker recoiled for unintentionally cutting his friend.
That was Gruugg's chance to step in and one-two slug him back. Blood trickled from that young warrior's mouth and nose when he looked up at Gruugg from the ground.
Every move had the bystanders oo-ing and ah-ing in sympathy for Gruugg's unfortunate victims.
"Don't just stand there, Tornan! Help me take him down!" cried the man on the ground while he wiped his face and scrambled back to his feet.
"Why would I do that, young Brekka? It was Narkef who started this. If we all start fighting among ourselves now, who will be left to defeat Kralgar on the battlefield?" the veteran replied calmly with arms crossed. The bystanders had seemed split, some wanting to fight and the others trying to hold them back. Veteran Tornan's words had a visibly calming effect on everyone.
"Now," Tornan continued, "why don't you pick him up and find someone who can tend your bruises." He turned to face Gruugg. The man was silent as they scrutinized each other. Gruugg felt like the old man might even be able to see inside him with those piercing blue eyes.
"What's you lookin' at?" Gruugg demanded, as he looked around, not addressing anyone in particular. He didn't like being a spectacle.
Besides Tornan, there was only one female in the group who looked at him with great focus. Her dark brown hair was pulled into three thick braids, and her light hazel eyes hardly blinked as she stared unapologetically at the half-orc rager. Gruugg decided to challenge her stare with his own. He tried to glower fiercely at her, but then something happened. Gruugg got a strange feeling like he had done this before, somehow. Her face mysteriously held something . . . familiar to him.
Tornan could sense something in the air between the two and stepped forth. "Bethel? Is he known to you?" he asked.
"I . . . I do not know, Tornan. He seems . . . familiar to me somehow, but," she hesitated as if her mind couldn't accept what she was saying, "that would be impossible."
"I am Gruugg, Halftusk of Plague Fist tribe," he introduced. "I was in Griffon's Nest, and I founds out what Kralgar's gonna do."
"Gruugg?" Bethel repeated.
Gruugg nodded once, a puzzled look on his face. He was quite sure she wasn't hard of hearing or mentally challenged, so why did she look like she was having a hard time reconciling his name?
"Well, Gruugg," Tornan interjected, "I am Tornan, as you may have heard. I am battle-chief of the Red Tiger tribe warriors, sent here beside our Black Lion tribe brethren. Bethel here is a Black Lion," he said while placing a firm hand upon the young woman's strong shoulder.
"Tornan, we need to take him to see Uncle Strathom. He will want to meet him."
"He went to the meeting, but once he is done with that I think it could be arranged. Gruugg, I noticed that you used my techniques in your little squabble. Quite the fast learner you are. Coupled with your strength, you are quite impressive as a warrior. This will help to improve the morale of all Uthgardt who will be fighting beside you. They may never love you, simply because of the enmity we are raised to have for orc-kind, but they will respect you on the field; that you have my assurance on."
Gruugg nodded, inwardly grateful for the veteran's support.
"Red Tiger and Black Lion?" Gruugg repeated. "I di'n't know there's differ'nt human tribes, like there's differ'nt orc tribes." There was a pause as both Uthgardt tried to interpret his words in the best light. It wasn't customarily polite to compare the Uthgardt with their hated orc enemies.
"There are . . . some small similarities yes," Tornan conceded. "We Uthgardt live in separate tribes scattered over the Northlands. Each tribe is named after the totem spirit that it honors most. Black Lions and Red Tigers both hail from Beorunna's Well to the northeast. You have seen Kralgar and his Griffon tribe already. There are also the Elk, Gray Wolf, Sky Pony, Thunderbeast and Tree Ghost tribes."
"Don't forget the Black Raven and the Great Worm tribes," Bethel added.
"Yes, of course. You see, Gruugg, Uthgar is our most ancient ancestor and patron god, but he is a strong and free being. He does not seek to cow us into worship like other gods, he doesn't even tell us to worship him directly. He allows us our own freedom, but he does keep an eye upon all the tribes by his sacred totem spirits, as we have named them. They protect and guide us in Uthgar's name, each in their own way, each a different facet of the Battle Father's greatness."
"Yes," Bethel passionately continued, "but it is his . . . aloofness that has given rise to waywardness among the tribes, Gruugg. It was the promise of greater power that led the Elk tribe to follow Auril, the heartless Frostmaiden. Malar overpowered and then impersonated the Blue Bear spirit totem. Yes, we did not mention it before, because that tribe is now dead, destroyed from within by the cruel Beastlord's bloodlust and trickery."
Then she hung her head a bit. "Even we Black Lions are slowly turning away. My uncle Strathom is the last of Uthgar's faithful clerics in the whole tribe, holding to venerated Patrevani's teachings. The rest only pay Uthgar lip service while they prefer to worship Tyr and Torm, more attentive, foreign, southern gods. Oh, they are not deities of evil, and our way of life has improved, they say. Our wounded and sick do not die so often, we grow crops now to prevent starvation through the harsh winter months, and we have growing profitable commerce with other nations." She smiled as if in gratitude, but Gruugg quickly saw that it was hollow in her heart. Tornan had been nodding or shaking his head as she spoke, never disagreeing with her as she voiced her complaints.
"But at what cost?" she continued. "We are losing the aspects of our culture that have made us strong. I think that too many of our tribesfolk have come to believe that they are weak, because their god doesn't hover over them like a greedy vulture. Oh, they would not openly admit it, but why else would they seek the support of foreign faiths?" Bethel took a deep breath. She was working herself up again. One look at Gruugg and she wondered if she had already said too much.
"Forgive me, Gruugg. This is something that I feel passionately about. Ever since my mother died, I have lived with my uncle, and his teachings of our history and our waning culture have rooted deep in my heart."
Gruugg nodded, trying to smile or do something to let her know that he wasn't put off. "I can tell you thinks about it a lot. I don't thinks about the gods much, only before I fight. The One-Eyed don't tell orcs much 'cept to kill and plunder everyone else. Orcs that don't likes him no more keeps it to himself, or he's dead quick."
Bethel smiled. "Well then that's another reason to meet Strathom. Maybe he can help you understand a god that you can relate to better."
"Uh, maybe," Gruugg hesitantly agreed.
The other Uthgardt that had been there had wandered off by then, but one returned and invited them back to their camp for evening meal which was nearly ready. Gruugg was fine talking out in the open with the two, but the idea of going back to camp with them and a whole tribe of orc-hating Uthgardt caused the paranoid in him to bristle. Bethel and Tornan both promised to vouch for him, and would see no harm come to him there.
Gruugg nodded but was still slow to follow, so Bethel went around back of him and pushed with all her might, and that's what it took to get the big rager to even budge. "Come on, you silly oaf!" she pleaded between humored grunts.
Finally Gruugg moved forward and she nearly fell flat from the sudden release. They made their way to camp, and the walk wasn't too far. There were roughly a dozen elk-hide huts and more large tents encircling an area of gathering.
There was a huge bonfire illuminating the scene and cooking the meat of two skinned bucks. Each had its own rotating spit, and the heads of the animals that had given their lives for the feast were proudly on display. Two middle aged women were tending the meat while a pair of adolescent girls turned the meat to cook it evenly. The cooks had applied a blended spice paste to the meat, and Gruugg had to admit it smelled very good. There was also some sort of stewed dish being prepared in a huge pot, as well as the smell of bread baking in a crude oven nearby.
Unfortunately, when Gruugg's presence was made aware, all the talking, laughing and food preparations took a pause. Gruugg swallowed, not usually one to be timid, but every one of the Uthgardt here—even the women—looked like they wouldn't think twice about gutting him on the spot. One or two he could handle, but a few score or more?
Tornan stepped forth before anyone did something foolish. "Hear me, Red Tigers and Black Lions! This is Gruugg Halftusk. He has proven himself to be a powerful warrior, and a trustworthy man. I have vouched for his safety. Anyone who raises a hand to him raises a hand to me." The battle-chief confidently turned to Gruugg and briefly patted his shoulder. Apparently Tornan's word carried great weight among his people.
Bethel and Tornan led the way further into camp. There were many who still stared at the half-orc while he passed. The women went back to their cooking, applied the finishing touches, then took the meat off the fire and began portioning out the meat, slicing the fresh bread, and ladling the lentil stew into wooden bowls.
There was an air of discomfort, and Gruugg got the feeling that there would be much louder conversation going on during the meal if he wasn't there. Slowly the gathered warriors began to loosen up. Gruugg decided to concentrate on the food, which wasn't hard. Despite being chased out of Griffon's Nest and his life being threatened, the Golden Griffon's fare was better, but he had to admit that this food was a close second; especially considering that they were in the middle of the woods in a camp that hadn't been there yesterday.
Bethel tried her best to make him feel more comfortable. She asked him about the food, and made occasional small talk. Tornan went so far as to invite Gruugg to join them later when the Uthgardt were to conduct battle drills. It was something Gruugg hadn't really considered, but he agreed, not seeing anything else to say.
Selûne had moved a step across the night sky before Strathom and his acolytes returned from the meeting. Tornan excused himself and approached the battle-priest of Uthgar. Unlike the other warriors there, the warrior-cleric wore around his neck a braided leather cord that had a wide leather sleeve with a painted black silhouette of a lion. The sleeve was sewn shut and looked to Gruugg like it might contain a collection of small objects. The man himself had the same sort of age and strength that Tornan did, but he did not have the same lightheartedness about him that Tornan had. Strathom looked like he was constantly burdened by some invisible weight, yet tried not to let it show. The cleric did smile as he greeted his friend Tornan, but it vanished when he saw Gruugg sitting there among them.
Bethel must have seen the look of hidden anxiety in Gruugg's face, because she too stood to greet her uncle, to stand with Tornan as co-mediators between them. Gruugg did not look, but he felt the eyes of all the Uthgardt upon him again.
"Well met, young half-orc," Strathom greeted. His voice was deep and resounding, and easily penetrated to the heart of the listener. "Not often do we entertain such a guest among us. In fact, I can scarcely remember if there was any other time. I have just come from a meeting where your vital role in our plans was discussed. For this, I thank you. Rumors of Kralgar's ambitions had already reached my ears, but none of us had thought him capable of allying with treacherous wizards from the east. Without your aid, this knowledge may never have come to us, until after it was too late."
"Uh, you's welcome," Gruugg awkwardly replied after considering his words, "I didn't know I's helpin' everyone. I just wants to keep Sienna safe. They says I can have lots of power if I's with them, and it sounds good for a minute, but they wants me to kill her. No way I's doin' that!"
Strathom nodded thoughtfully. Tornan and Bethel both carried proud smiles on their faces. Gruugg heard many in the crowd behind him whispering among themselves.
"You speak, not like an orc, but like a man, Gruugg Halftusk. Should we survive this ordeal, I will gladly sponsor your acceptance into my tribe, should you so desire it."
"Hey now," Tornan humorously interjected, "what makes you so sure he would prefer the Lions? Perhaps he would enjoy the company of the Red Tigers more." Tornan gave Gruugg a wink, indicative that he was teasing the cleric.
"If he prefers those who do not bathe regularly, he may indeed," Strathom countered dryly, with a twinkle in his eye. Tornan chuckled. It wasn't as fun if his old friend didn't respond to his taunting.
"Uncle," Bethel spoke up, "there is something further I wish to discuss. But I would prefer it discussed within the tent."
"Something further, eh?" Strathom suspiciously looked between her and Gruugg, wondering how wild he should allow his imagination to run. "Very well. Let us move inside."
The four entered one of the huts. There were fur covered mats on the floor, and a firepit in the middle for warmth on cold nights. Three hefty leather backpacks were lined against the wall to the left of the entrance.
Strathom moved to one spot on the fur mats and sat down cross-legged, facing the firepit. He motioned for Gruugg and the others to join him and sit in like manner around the firepit. Tornan busied himself by stoking the glowing embers and adding more wood to fuel them.
"Uncle, I think there may be more here than we have realized. Gruugg reminds me of someone; someone I knew years ago." Gruugg blinked when she paused after this statement. How could she even think that unless she had met a half-orc?
Bethel continued, "Do you still remember how my father died? He was killed by orcs when they raided our village. I escaped with you and Tornan. You saved all you could and fled to Beorunna's Well. My home was one of the first struck. Fortunately I was out playing with my friends when we heard the screams and saw the smoke. The orcs were swift, killing and burning everything." Bethel looked to Strathom, "You kept me from going back home for my mother." She briefly spoke to Gruugg, "He wouldn't risk it, and we all thought she had died as well."
The well-spoken woman continued by indicating the two veterans, "I remember when both of you took up your swords to seek vengeance against the orcs that had dealt so devastating a blow to our family. It wasn't until after some months of determined searching that Tornan and Strathom finally found the orcs' home. They slew everyone. Then," Bethel lowered her glistening eyes and sniffled, "they found her. She was still alive. The orcs had kept her and a few others alive as slaves." She now curled her lip in disgust. Gruugg didn't have to guess what they would have done with a captured woman. "She was badly bruised. I remember how broken she looked, but she was alive. That was all that mattered . . . until we noticed her belly was growing.
"I remember the nights when I overheard the elders arguing over what should be done. Strathom was unmarried, and as is our custom, a warrior's possessions and family are all passed on to his next of kin if he is killed in battle, like my father was. My uncle listened to my mother's wishes, and advocated for her to keep the child."
Gruugg swallowed, and a subtle chill went down his spine as he tried to guess where this was leading.
"I remember the day he was born," she continued. "It was a month and a ten-day after my own birthday. You were away, uncle, out on Uthgar's Path as part of your priestly training; but you were there, Tornan."
The veteran paused to think, before replying, "Ah yes! I do indeed remember that day. Gjorg she named him, wasn't it? Big, strapping baby half-orc he was."
Bethel nodded happily. She looked at Gruugg, the big, strapping half-orc who was doing his best to absorb all this information. Strathom's expression told her that he had put the puzzle pieces together as she had, though he maintained a small shred of skepticism on his face, unwilling or unable to accept it as truth just yet.
"Yes. I believe that Gruugg here might be the very same child."
"Bethel," Strathom began sternly but began to stutter, "th-that is—well . . . It cannot be true. That child was lost in another orc attack." The Uthgardt cleric explained, "Your mother and others were convinced by 'well-meaning' foreigners that they could reclaim and rebuild the village that was lost to orcs nearly two years prior. Fortunately I had decided to make a visit on the day the orcs struck again; Uthgar's foresight had seen to that." His eyes grew steel hard as he remembered that cruel day. "She was badly wounded when I found her, blood all over. I had the strength of faith to cure her wounds, but her orcish son was nowhere to be found. It was impossible to think that he survived on his own, and possibly even more horrific to exist among orcs. Your mother knew that full well. Her body was easily mended, thanks be to Uthgar, yet her heart never healed. I could tell that her spirit was crushed by her son's absence. She slowly became ill, and died. I never understood how she could have given so much of her heart to a son born out of such cruelty and strife."
"But, uncle, was it not you who taught me to see the grand purpose in life? You said it was as a beautiful picture drawn with invisible lines, like the constellations of the heavens given life here on the earth. We can only see the story in the stars after the sun sets. And so, we can only see the true meaning of events until they have fully come to pass."
"The battles, the abuse, the death . . ." he reiterated.
"The healing, the renewal and now a reunion," she reminded him. "All are part of the path taken to this point. We do not relish the hard, the terrible times, but we who survive are given something special, if we but have the wit to realize it."
Gruugg pondered that for a moment. "What special thing?"
"Strength," Bethel said simply, beaming as she replied to his perfectly simple question. She shifted closer so that she could take up his thick strong hand in both of her hands, as a visual demonstration. "This man is strong, we can all see that. I can only imagine how hard your life has been for you, Gruugg, and yet you survived. The orcs you lived among must have treated you so, so poorly. You had the strength to endure it. Somehow, you had the strength of character to keep the hurt and the conflict from twisting your heart into something hard and black inside. And now, after all these years apart, your amazing strength has put us in a place where we can flush out our enemies. Thanks to him, the forces of good are gathered to resist a grave threat to the region. Why should Uthgar not also grant us the reunion with our long lost kin, as a reward for passing the test?"
At last, Bethel faced her uncle, "If you ask me for proof that cannot be contested, I cannot lay that before you right now, but there is something about this half-orc that calls to my heart. The more I wonder, the more my heart is assured that this Gruugg was at one time my brother, Gjorg."
Gruugg was speechless, but not for lack of trying to get words past his teeth.
"S-so, you's my sister? I doesn't remember a lot, but I does remember sayin' 'Please,' . . . and 'Thank you.' I think my momma taught me that."
Bethel giggled like the girl she used to be. "Yes, Gruugg! I do remember that. You grew so fast. Before a year old you were crawling and even standing up to walk on your own. You could even repeat the things you heard. Mother was so proud of you. She tried to keep you out of earshot of Tornan's foul mouth as much as possible," she teasingly nudged the old veteran, who feigned a wounded ego.
"Why, I've never uttered a damn foul word in all my years!" he protested jokingly. The others laughed, and even Strathom chuckled under his breath while shaking his head.
The next hour passed like minutes for the four. Bethel told Gruugg about Fjorna, their mother. In fact, she had tried her own hand at the adventuring life in her early adult years, living by luck and the sword until her group met an enterprising merchant from the Dales. He was in the process of building connections in the booming northern territories, first in mighty Silverymoon, then pushing further west. He offered them a position as chiefs of security for his trading venture.
They accepted, business boomed, and Fjorna became better acquainted with the merchant's son. Added security personnel meant that Fjorna and Mathis had more time available for each other, and that eventually led to their marriage. Fjorna convinced him to settle with her people when they became pregnant with Bethel. The rest was already explained, bringing them to the present day.
Gruugg shared his own stories. He talked about growing up among the orcs. The cruelty he had endured, until he was pulled to his feet and nurtured into a warrior by Urrgk. Gruugg told them about his acceptance into the tribe—showing the burn scar on the back of his right hand as proof—and of his ritual hunt, when he battled with the snowcat whose tattered pelt he still wore. The half-orc still got a little choked up when he described the scene of burning ruin he returned home to, in which he found the body of his adoptive father.
The rager opted to leave out many of the details on the subsequent years. His recounting of vengeance against the Bloody Eye tribe brought looks of praise from his Uthgardt audience, but Gruugg knew it would be unwise to elaborate on his time spent among Obould Many-Arrows' hordes. Fortune spared Gruugg from further trips down memory lane, when the leather door to the hut was parted, revealing Sienna and her mother.
"Gruugg?" Sienna asked. "Gruugg! There you are. We have been looking for you ever since the meeting's end. This is literally the last place I expected to find you, Uthgardt and orc relations as they normally are."
The Uthgardt—a word which now technically included Gruugg—rose in honor of their guests. Sienna moved to happily embrace her missing man. Ansali took a step further inside, so as not to lurk in the door, but kept quiet.
"Sienna Moonsong," Strathom spoke first, "it is a pleasure to have you in my camp. I declare that this night has been one of . . . revelations. You need not fear for Gruugg's safety among us."
"No, of course not," Bethel emphasized. "Gruugg will always be safe . . . when he is among family."
It took a few moments, and Sienna almost missed it. "Wait. Family? Whose family? You?" Her face beamed at the unforeseen, exciting news. "When did this happen?"
"I think we can let Gruugg tell you, miss Moonsong," Tornan jumped in while giving his body a stretch. "We have shared many things this night, and there will be time for more of it tomorrow. In fact, Gruugg will be joining us when we drill in battle formations. We all must prepare, for this battle to come will surely test us in ways we have yet to imagine."
Sienna nodded, knowing quite well how true that was. "A scouting party has gone out this very night, to search the Evermoors until Kralgar's staging point is found. Of course, it is the Red Wizard factor that upsets the equation. Who knows if Tenocc's death has upset their plans, or if some other agent is filling in? Not to mention the simple danger of Thay's involvement. Thay uses powerful magic and monsters—liberally—to fight its battles. Even if we succeed in defeating Kralgar, we may face further threat from a power-hungry nation of corrupt spellcasters."
That particular revelation kind of put a dampener on the reunion. No one ventured to say anything for an extended moment.
"We will win," Ansali offered simply in her quiet yet commanding way. "I may have been here the shortest length of time, but I have used every minute to gauge our readiness for this great mission. The people that have gathered here are united against a great evil that hoped to lurk in the dark, saving the killing blow for prey too weak and unaware to escape its doom.
"All who take the field on the day of battle will face that same doom, but on equal terms. Thanks to my daughter and," the priestess fixed Gruugg with an unfathomable look, "other key individuals, the darkness has lifted. We can see our enemy's true face, and that gives us power over it. Lives will be lost—such is the way of battle—yet make no mistake: we will have driven the beast from its nest, unable to wreak the destruction and conquest that it so desired. We will do that, and thus we shall win."
Later, after the good-nights had been wished, Gruugg, Sienna and Ansali made their way toward Rhinock's hut. The druid had put them up in his spacious hut, putting off the need to build them their own dwelling place, at least until after the coming battle.
Sienna went inside. Ansali bade Gruugg to stay a moment with her. Gruugg was slightly intimidated by the smaller woman.
"I wanted to speak with you. I have seen you with my daughter. I must say that while I was rather shocked at her . . . choice in attraction, I cannot say that I do not understand. There were some in my own family that opposed my own choice in a mate. Sienna's father was a cunning ranger who became drawn to life among my clan, through life and choice, as destiny oft intertwines two lives to create some specific.
"Before she was born, I dreamed of her. Her life would be one of intense joy, and horrible loss. Betrayal and love are closely tied to her existence. The moment I saw you, I knew you to be closely tied to the events in her life. Perhaps I cannot prevent it, but I can offer you words of wisdom, which may in turn be only small links in the larger chain of events, leading to . . . well, the future, which no mortal can know before it has come to pass."
Gruugg felt even more intimidated, since he only understood about half of what she said, and even less of what she entirely meant .
"I cares for Sienna. She's pretty, and smart, and funny, and sings really good. She lied to me, but I sees it was for a good reason. She wants to besure the bad guys don't cause too much trouble and war."
"Yes. I think too many people overlook all the pain and turmoil people of your kind go through. Truly she has shared in it in her youth, living among elves half-human, and half a race of ancient betrayal. We should all be more willing to give more credit where it is due, apart from ingrained prejudices. And I promise to do just that. Put simply, you have my blessing to court my daughter, but do not take this lightly. All I ask is that you seek to be her joy, and make her sorrow as brief as you can."
Gruugg could only nod. "I won't hurt her. She's too important. I promises." Nothing more needed to be said. He nodded his final goodnight, and climbed the steps between him and his bed.
"Good night, barbarian," Ansali whispered. "A good night, I pray, for us all."
In the earliest hours of the morning the scout team was on its way back home. It had been a trying night. Two of the six who set out had to be carried back, their wounds were so great. Everyone was exhausted and showed wounds of their own: blade cuts or arrow punctures. Rhinock had constructed a magical pathway between Lurkwood and Evermoors. The Lurkwood entrance—which looked like nothing but a gap between two trees—sat only a short distance from the edge of the druidic community.
Fortunately wolf lookouts howled when the team's scent was detected. The announcement alerted their druid masters to open the grove's entrance and give them immediate aid. Two of the druids shifted into horses to carry the two not walking on their own. When the team made it to the grove's safety, they allowed themselves to collapse on the soft welcome grass. Their respite from the hard journey was well earned. A runner was sent to wake Rhinock as he had requested.
A cheetah quickly arrived on the scene at a dead sprint, a greenish hound hot on its heels. The panting cat shifted into the gnome's natural form, and he fell upon the two team members in critical condition. One of them still breathed, but the other had the cold pallor of the deceased. A deep, emotional sigh preceded the druid's work on the one who could be saved. After a wave of his hands, a powerful, pulsating greenish-white light seeped into the wounded man. The arrow punctures in his chest closed, his eyes blinked open and alert, and he took a deep breath unhindered, as if the wounds had never existed at all.
The squad leader still shook, from all the stress of the night, and their loss. "I am sorry, master. We lost Tervon to the gnolls. Our mission was a success, but . . . we were discovered on our way out. The gnoll patrol caught wind of us and attacked. We successfully prevented an alert, and gathered up our wounded. We just . . . couldn't stop the bleeding."
"Relax, sergeant. You did all you could, and your mission was accomplished. I cannot ask more of you. Tervon gave his life for the cause, but I sense that his circle of life is not yet complete. It will be restored, I assure you." Rhinock turned to another druid, "Get them all cured, and bring them food and water. Wake Sienna to get their report. With the information they have gathered we can make our final preparations. Before this day is done, all our fates will be decided."
The sky was bright with the rising sun by the time the meeting was assembled. As with the first meeting, the leaders and major players of this effort were in attendance: Rhinock, Sienna, Ansali, Ravana and Avia, Tornan, Strathom, a few other ranking druids and rangers from the community, and—last but not least—Gruugg graced them with his presence too. He figured this gathering would get him closer to lopping off heads, so it was worth attending.
"Thank you all for coming," Rhinock began, standing on a stump in the focal point of the crude, log-bench amphitheater they were gathered in. Thistle was there by the stump, keeping herself occupied with her favorite chew toy. "We have much to prepare for in these final hours before the battle, so I will keep this brief.
"As some of you are already aware, our reconnaissance scouts have returned. Their mission was a success, but there was a price." Rhinock took a steadying breath to keep in his emotions. "Tervon was critically wounded, and died on their way out. Tragic as this is, he will be restored, and of course his sacrifice helped to bring us tremendous gain.
"The team managed to infiltrate the enemy camp, acquired the information we need, but were spotted on their way out. According to Sergeant Abilis, the gnolls were stopped before others could be alerted, but he is not absolutely sure that no one knows of our intrusion, thus our need to move forward quickly. We must not allow them time to take the initiative against us." Some of those seated began whispering among themselves, but silenced quickly to hear more from the gnome.
"As I have already mentioned, gnolls—at least a legion—are entrenched where we must go. They are favored soldiers of Thayan armies, but constitute the least of our worries. The gnolls also keep kennels of fiendish hyenas, which suggests demon lord Yeenoghu's direct support in this matter. The frost giants we already know of and they take priority on the battlefield. The scouts also reported two other Uthgardt tribes in league with Kralgar. The Elk tribe follows the call of the frost giants, being co-worshipers of the Frostmaiden. The Gray Wolves are also camped there; their lycanthropic transformations were witnessed first-hand.
"And still, all these things are of lesser importance. They are merely barriers to the heart of the beast. Our scouts were unable to get too close to see it directly, but they were able to discern some important things. Undead. There are hundreds of them performing some task for their wizard masters. There is a massive pit where the undead are working to construct something big. Knowing the devious minds of the Red Wizards, it could literally be anything, but whatever it is, it cannot bode well for Nesmé.
"Our mission, as I see it, must fall into two phases. Phase one: we must deal with the forces between us and the construction site. We don't know how close they are to being finished, but I have a hunch that we are arriving just in time. We cannot put all our efforts into completely eliminating the outward threats before we take on the heart. Phase two will involve a smaller group of our most formidable people. Once the path to the heart has been sufficiently cleared, this team will gather and punch its way to the heart, while the rest of us continue the fight. If we are able, the rest of our forces will join this team to destroy whatever it is they are building. However that may not happen. It is likely that powerful guardians are in place there, besides the Red Wizards themselves.
"All of us here, the leaders of our respective factions, are that elite team. Except for you two," Rhinock was looking at the raven twins. "I have something special for you, if you're up for it. I will discuss that privately once this meeting is finished.
"Once we have broken the enemy fighters enough, we will sound the signal . . . something loud and distinct . . . we'll come up with something, and then the team—those who have survived—will converge on Gruugg, Tornan, and Strathom.
"Take the next few hours to work out the details among yourselves and your troops. After that, we move out. I believe I have stressed the importance of what we're doing enough. Today we will see the fruits of our labor pay off. Meeting adjourned—except you, Gruugg. I would like to speak with you a moment, please."
Gruugg hesitated a moment, trying to guess what Rhinock wanted. He shrugged, hugged Sienna, bade the others a "see you soon," and walked over to the gnome. Thistle dropped her toy, and happily yapped and whined at his approach, wagging her tail. She shouldered Gruugg's legs until he started giving her the scratch she was looking for.
"You's wants to see me, Rhinock?"
"Yes, Gruugg. I just wanted to make sure you were prepared for what is about to happen. Do you think you are ready?" the small man asked as he started to walk in the direction of his hut. Gruugg of course followed.
"Uh . . . well I's ready as I's gonna be. I's always ready to chop heads, Rhinock. I just . . . well you knows how bad my armor looks, after the fight with the demons."
"Ah, yes. Funny you should mention that," the gnome commented, shaking a finger as if he was just reminded of something, but Gruugg knew it had to be the very reason he was called over. "I have a gift for you." Gruugg was speechless. He certainly didn't feel like he deserved anything more from the generous druid, but he would certainly never refuse a free gift.
Rhinock led the way back to his hut. Inside and across the room, Gruugg followed his friend to one of several large chests set against the wall of his hut. A key from his belt unlocked it. The oiled hinges hardly whispered. It took Gruugg a second to realize what he was seeing inside the opened container.
"Go ahead," Rhinock encouraged, "it's a bit heavy for me, but it should fit you just right." Gruugg wasted no time. He reached in and took hold of the armor cuirass made from rough, thick, gray hide. The thick shoulder pauldrons had two curved horns on each side, the outer horns longer than the inner ones, enhancing the rhinoceros imagery. The entire set of armor included bracers and leggings, which were thickest over the thighs and calves.
"This armor belonged to a friend of mine, from those long past days when I went out looking for trouble. Sagaar was a powerful Uthgardt warrior, Black Raven tribe, his bloodline directly descended from Uthgar himself. You remind me of him, despite the differences in your lineage. He wore this armor for many years, until the fated blade took his life. It's magical armor Gruugg. I've seen many arrows splinter off this armor where they struck. But its true power comes when you attack while wearing it. Whenever you charge into battle, as the rhinoceros, this armor will add power to that attack, making you that much more devastating."
Gruugg was already shedding his torn clothing and chain shirt, and replacing it with this spectacular new armor. He still could not bear to part with his ragged snowcat pelt. He would only discard the thing when it literally fell apart in his hands. He thumped his chest, trying to gauge the armor's sturdiness. He had to really try to hurt himself just to feel the sensation of the blows. The greater protection came with a cost of reduced speed and agility, but Gruugg accepted it willingly as the gains outweighed the loss.
Rhinock only watched and smiled with a hint of nostalgia at the sight of the armor's use once more. "So, Gruugg, are you ready for today?" Rhinock asked knowingly.
Gruugg shrugged, his grin growing bigger as he imagined his part in the battle. The barbarian replied simply, "Ready or not, here we come."