Warden Commander of Par Vollen:Yes well due to the orcs being throughout the era's pariahs and without any favour from the empire; it would seem more than logical as to why they would come into a rebels plans; the same could be said for any of the kingdoms however that'll not be for more chapter's still. Also thanks for that; their names are based upon certain historical characters i liked during some ancient conflicts; they will be involved much like the other secondary characters as things progress.
Whisked:On all accounts thank you it's always good to get praise; though i'll take both points inot account on the basis of character development and military aspects, both will hopefully be expanded upon within this chapter though not too much just yet.
On the 15th day of last seed; within the dragonborn camp that had so recently became a hive of activity, silence reined where once training drums had been beat; and the usual rushing and drilling of foot soldiers was replaced by the low sounds of occasional sentries patrolling the grounds of the camp.
The lack of activity had been down to Reynald believing the offer of Wayrest to be honest; and he had therefore allowed his men some measure of respite before the hard winter which was to come, one person among many who had originally followed the dragonborn from Skyrim knew however that he himself would not take advantage of such a thing.
It was Aela the huntress of the companions; who without any thought of her slightly ragged appearance marched her way towards the enclosure of Reynald's, fresh from a ride encompassing the whole of the night the veteran companion still wore the revealing furs and cloth that usually covered her slender frame; added to now by a thin layer of sweat from the hard riding she had just completed.
The only difference from her usual appearance was the lack of her signature bow; handed down through the companions and rumoured to have been carved from the legendary thousand span trees of Atmora, which had in itself made her a renowned figure within the fledging dragonborn army; it could after all allow her pierce the strongest of triple armours or catch a fleeing opponent from leagues away usually thought impossible.
She reached the outer gates of the small alcove and without a word passed the guards; most of them nord and had followed the original companions when the call to arms had been rang out, only Aela and the other veteran companions commanded as much respect as the dragonborn in the eyes of the nord warriors.
Now she only paused for the guards directly outside his tent to announce her; with hardly a moment passing before Reynald allowed her entry, she ducked under the tent flap and quickly came to rest her eyes on the man she called harbinger.
Now instead of being seated within the throne chair; or stood upright and imposing the dragonborn was instead hunched over at the table he had been using as his personal office, their was no dragon armour covering his frame but instead a simple homespun cloak and similarly drab pants more fit for a peasant than a leader of men.
It made Aela remember her first; and equally dismissive impression of the breton, he seemed frail of heart; not what she would have considered handsome and most likely not enough of a warrior to grace the revered halls of the Jorrvaskr.
All that of course had been more than disproved in their time together, as for all his slightness of build their was his fearsome ability skill with a sword; his potency as a mage and of course his fearsome thu'um that all had combined to build his legend.
It hardly meant to be said what she thought of him as a prospective companion; or his mettle after all the things he had done, having slain countless dragons; Alduin the world eater himself; not to mention the few dozen silver bloods she had watched him personally eviscerate in their own personal quest of revenge.
The reason for the memory was that while the other prospective companions had toiled away in the training grounds; sparing and pushing their bodies to increase their composition this one time trainee had foregone the available advice, instead spending his time in the library and underequipped alchemy station in their under hall working on his spells and potions.
It was hardly a surprise that Farkas had taken offence and offered the seemingly disinterested manmer outside for a spar to 'ingrain some hardness into his soft skull', what had been surprising was the breton's ability to outwit and outfight the fearsome nord with just a single sword.
Reynald of course knew of her entry and having finished up some writing on a nearby document stood up from his seat to greet his fellow companion; who managed to avoid gazing at his uncovered chest that bore all the signs of a well disciplined soldier; hard and well developed as it was with accompanying blade and bolt scars to show his experience.
"I always wonder which of you will come to report; most of the time I'm disappointed to see those two brutes of brothers appear" Reynald said with an undisguised smile; half truthful in saying that he was disappointed not to have her report more often, rather than any dislike for his two nordic brothers.
Aela was as ever just as bashful as the dragonborn then "I'm too busy picking arrows out of my enemies; while those two are busy throwing the tankard around with you"; was the reply, which was hardly delivered with anything more than good humour, Reynald took no offence but rather crossed arms with the woman hand grasping the other's elbow and vice versa; so that they came together in a rough form of greeting passed down through the companion ranks.
Reynald could hardly miss the smell of exertion coming from the nord nor miss the signs of her being jaded from a long journey; it only reminded him of just how impressive this particular companion was, not one part of her lean body could be beaten by any of Vilkas's brawn; nor Farkas either for that matter.
She did however show the signs of weariness; with dark shades showing under her eyes along with a slight slump of her shoulders being noticeable, he himself had only caught a few hours rest before rising and beginning his early morning work; with his regular bottles of stamina rejuvenating potions at the ready for the day ahead.
"Well neither i nor those two will have much respite this winter anyway" he told her when elicited some genuine interest from Aela; always eager to get out into the field and deal some damage or mischief, "I have been given an audience with the king of the orcs; perhaps to have his army merge with my own, it's hardly surprising given how harshly the imperials have treated the orcs since their inception as a legal Province", now that was a surprise to Aela who for a moment lost that ever cocksure expression of hers.
She remained that way for a moment before asking "What of their alliance with Wayrest; this could be a trap to have you assassinated, it's not as if those filthy bluebloods are above such a thing", the question of course was one that had Reynald up from the early hours and without sleep; mulling it over though had left him to the same verdict however.
"If it's an assassination then the king; his would be assassins and anyone stupid enough to plot against me will follow the rest of my enemies not yet dealt with to the grave" Reynald told her with an easy smile; fully believing that he could deal with any threat presented, "You and twenty of our best will serve as my escort on the road" he then told her; which held some relief for her given the one man excursions he had been attributed with during his time warring with the dragons for the most part.
"and what will be the purpose of this meeting then; what of the army you have built up here" Aela asked; never on complete terms with the dragonborn's line of thought, even knowing that his immediate goal was to build a larger force and eventually challenge the heirs of the previous emperor.
He didn't disappoint of course offering out a hand to present her with the sight of four different pieces of paper; all sealed up and presented in along with four other tightly bundled rolls in the usual fashion of his orders, such as he was for presenting his force as an actual army due to his years within the legion, "Orders for Detritus; Kastus; Ulrich and another order to be sent back to Solitude for Ulfric's assistance" he then said; gaining a curious glance.
"What exactly are you planning, is this army of yours not meant to rest for the winter" she asked in confusion; having like most others with Reynald's ear heard from the dragonborn himself that the winter would be a time of peace, he was of course was quick to mould his thoughts according to the situation however.
He allowed her to know the inner thoughts of his mind saying "I have always been of the opinion that war should be conducted when the passes open and there is less disadvantage to an army on the offensive; such as we will be, however there are times when opportunity presents it like this offer from the orcs has; I can't miss it", at this the dragonborn went for the rolls presented on the table and quickly laid it out on the table; with Aela noting that their were many dozen different intricate annotations made surrounding the area of the mountain expanse of High Rock.
"Now the orcs are at a disadvantage with the imperials; due to the legion having taken up position within the old kingdoms forts throughout the wrothgarians, if they assault the imperial position they can quickly be out manoeuvred and helmed between Vermeir and Norvulk" Reynald then explained; with Aela noting that he himself had used an inkwell to draw a rough design of what looked like plankways and shortcuts within the mountain area of High Rock, she saw that indeed two settlements were present; one either side of the orc homeland.
"However if we ally with the orcs I can send men to outflank the imperial position; draw them out and away from their supply base, that done my main force can move out and put Norvulk under siege and stretch out their guard" Reynald explained with his hands tracing along the lines of the map quickly; following along with what he told her, "If their commander is who I think it is then he'll be aggressive and careless; ripe for the plucking".
Now Aela had yet to be let down by Reynald in any of his skills; whether it be his ability to slay the mightiest of dragons or talk down an imperial general; but the tasks he discussed seemed beyond the ability of his current force, he had neither the numbers nor the fighting men to take on the legion she thought.
A slight break of her usually steadfast resolve showed upon her war painted face; and she asked "Do you believe even with these orcs you can match the imperial legion; most of your men are poor soldiers at best, they will not fare well against a force such as the legion".
Reynald knew this well enough but told her instead "An army is only as good as it's commanderand the legion is no exception; who if I'm right is a legate by the name of Calvius Nebian, he is someone I know intimately; and someone I know I can beat if it comes down to a battle, if the orcs come to our side I'll get a victory", the dragonborn seemed confidant then; which only made Aela appreciate his assertive personality still further, she was however interested in how he knew this man so well.
"What makes you so sure harbinger" she asked simply; with Reynald then quick to tell her something of his past which he had for the most point left forgotten within the companion ranks, he picked up one of the illuminated green bottles and pulled free the cork; downing the pungent liquid in one.
Feeling more vibrant then and eager he explained; "As you know I was at one point within the ranks of the imperial legion; however despite what Tullius would have had people believe, I was a captain rather than some little known legionary; being groomed for the position of legate no less"; this was news to Aela of course; none within their ranks thought Reynald was anything more than some disillusioned legion, but he was and always had been secretive within his past.
"I was during my time as a captain posted on the wrothgarians, I fought side by side with Nebian and saved his life on more than one occasion due to his rashness; but we were more adversaries that friends. He was a colovian high born and I was a peasant from the low rungs of castle life" Reynald further explained with little in the way of scorn; but rather a small smile, "naturally he was bred for a high position; but I was the one who took general Vontus's eye; who in turn tasked me with defending the strategic points of the imperial base knowing Calvius was too impetuous for these tasks".
"So you know much of your enemy; is it enough to defeat the legion" Aela asked while eager to hear more of what Reynald had to say; always ready to hear more about his worthy past, he did not disappoint her then.
"It is always enough when you know your enemies character and design; then you can plan according to that" Reynald said with a hint of a practised rhetoric; his hands however skirted over towards a point that was some miles between the orc homeland and where he planned his diversion attack, "Here there is a valley known as the great gorge, named as such in an irony to it's small size; tight bottlenecks and tight passageways so that only two men at a time could fit through side to side, seemingly inconsequential. Yet this valley leads some ways under the wrothgarians and past any significant imperial guard if they would be enticed out".
Aela was at that unsure at what his was; and at the doubtful look Reynald set his finger at a small point yet further still upon the mount, "here is where the imperial garrison have their storehouses; due to it's level ground for animals to graze and easy access for carts to transport stores, if the imperial garrison was to be dragged out and only a small guard to be left at the guardhouse", the question hung in the air for only a second before Aela gave him a look of incredulity.
"How do you know it isn't blocked or guarded" she asked while mulling over the possibility; while wondering at the dragonborn's seeming good fortune once again.
"Because only three men knew of it; myself; general Vontus and another legionary known as Baeran" was the quick answer; filled with sureness "Vontus is long dead and only we two where tasked with building a natural defence to block up the entrance; we succeeded by forming up mortar and granite so that it would be impossible to be used by the orcs to get behind our lines". Of course this was met by yet more questions from the ever increasingly inquisitive Aela.
Reynald however saw that they had talked about a good many things of his plan and did not wish to give everything away; so he shrugged off her questions and instead sent her to ready the rest of her recently arrived companions saying "They are too fill their bags with potions and whatever supplies needed for some few days travelling, we'll get a proper rest at dawn's break".
Now that done and with some begrudging acceptance from Aela Reynald was left alone in his room; himself needing to prepare for the travelling ahead, thankfully as ever he was organised from the night previous so that his armour was laid out in the adjoining tent along with his saddle; newly ground sword and supply pack.
It was only too perfect as midway through his fastening he was met by a rushed guard; reporting that the orc guests of his were already reporting themselves ready and awaiting at his tent, settling the last few fastenings of his armour suit he then met the two imposing elves at the mouth of his tent.
Just like before they were as a pair enclosed in their armour; covering black cloaks with hoods up with only some of their dark features showing through, it was hardly a surprise to him that these orcs were so no nonsense, "I'll have my escort ready within the hour; you can rest in my tent until then" he told them both; with the obstinate elder orc Xzul gro-Yarzol blankly refusing before then announcing he would meet them at the mouth of the camp.
The two orcs took off without another word for their horses; which left Reynald with his guards who he quickly ordered off this way and that to summon his different advisors, again he set about preparing before those he had summoned came around to his own camp.
The first was Detritus who was never too far from his commander; and as ever was never without his armour and trusty scimitar, it spoke much for the discipline of the man who was first among his fellows in Reynald's new army.
"You are to remain in command here while I make for Orsinium and meet with the king Shura; I've left orders for yourself; Kastus and Ulrich to be acted upon with the agreed signal" Reynald told his man; who appeared to set his jaw a little at the news of his place here, "If I or my companions do not return by weeks end then your too go to my personal chest and find my last command there".
Detritus who in all his years of adulthood had been a soldier of the vanguard; resisted the urge to argue the point of his own inclusion in any advance party to the orcs, instead realising begrudgingly that he was most suited to keeping the main force in check.
"I will do as you command" he said simply with an incline of his head; then going in to receive the orders and setting about his way. As he did so Aranea who had also been summoned came into view looking much different than usual.
Instead of her usual dusk coloured robes Aranea had set upon wearing a glittering set of glass armour that was only present when she went into battle; adjoining this was a staff of some unknown application; along with an equally unique dagger resting upon her right hip, its material looking decidedly daedric with its fearsome red hue along the blade.
Passing without a word; but rather a crossed glance the breton levelled an appreciative glance at the dunmer's shape within the form fitting armour before setting his head back on course out of the enclosure; Reynald caught it and could guess his man's thoughts.
Dunmer were of course well known for their promiscuity and seen as something of an exotic taste within other races cultures; he was all too certain that Aranea removed herself from that sort of thing in her pursuit of Azura's blessing however.
She approached him and when getting within a foot or so told him abruptly "I have spent some hours sacrificing to our lady of the dusk; so that you may gain her protection as champion"; the Dunmer then pulled free the dagger at her belt and presented it with a quick flick of her wrist; demonstrating somewhat her familiarity with weapons of the sort.
Reynald took it without pause and was immediately surprised at how weightless the weapon felt in hand; stepping back he gave it two quick practise swings and again it was like the weapon was feather light, "I know something of summoning since my day's of youth; how is it I have never summoned a weapon so light; yet dangerous as this" he asked, while also being surprised that the weapon did not force itself back into oblivion upon the changing of hands.
Aranea told him "Many who summon from the realms of oblivion are without the favour of the prince's; yet you have gained the favour of the goddess, it will allow you some advantage since you lost your most potent weapon", on the comment Reynald remembered that his weapon that had been taken by Zaric of Wayrest on their last; and eventful meeting, it was true that the sword he now used was without his usual enchantments, neither did it hold the fine smithing skill evident in the Skyforges produce.
"I will keep it on hand then" he told her with a smile of courtesy; before summoning the guard nearest to him in order to get his own horse and another for Aranea brought forward, the order was then quickly rescinded as the stomp of hooves on the ground signalled an oncoming cavalry group.
It was hardly a surprise then that from the entrance of his camp riders some twenty in number came forward, at the head being the equally impressive; and irritated looking Farkas, "Glad to see we aren't at the beck and call of this orc king after every hard ride" he grumbled, gaining a rough slap in warning from Vilkas who was as ever saddle to saddle with his brother.
"Maybe you should give your tongue a rest brother" the more diplomatic of the brothers said; while doing his best to ignore the borderline murderous glare from his rough looking brother, "Bring the horses forward" he then commanded; having correctly guessed that Reynald and his ever present battlemage would need mounts.
Reynald took the lead first and easily swung into the saddle of a black haired horse he knew to be from the Skyrim born stock; then ordering his guards to bring forward his pack, "You have the way of a diplomat about your Vilkas" Reynald complimented, Farkas at that looked even more uneasy however.
"What of me then" he asked in mock displeasure; never really soft enough to feel such a veiled barb, the dragonborn was equally biting then.
"Your good when someone needs a good slaying; but you have the tact of a troll" was what Reynald said with an amused smile; then taking off at the head of his guard having been fitted each side with his supplies, the accused nord only grumbled a reply before falling in step with his harbinger.
Now as promised the two orcs that had brought Shura's offer were present at the entrance of Reynald's camp; and with that the dragonborn with his detail took off at full flight for the meeting with the illusive orc king. Now neither orc was much for conversation and instead treated Reynald and his guard with a form of distant avoidance; only saving to speak up when a danger was spotted or their sturdy mounts needed rest.
It meant that on the first night when they had all settled down to rest around a campfire the nords with their dragonborn had taken up the majority of the campfire chatter; with the two orcs settled down beside them, for all their muted tones and cast down heads they might have been a thousand leagues away however.
Finally after having drained all the mead they had brought along; rather than sleep the nords who where the haughtiest of the companions brought about the issue some of them had with the orcs. Farkas of course; who as at the head of the crowd boldly stood up and approached the two orcs, weapon less yet holding a determined look upon his face.
He asked them in a rough tone "You two come along with some message of your king; summoning our leader as if he holds him in his thrall. Yet if you two mutes are anything to go by; I say your king and your lot are worthless to our cause", now at that the youngest of the orc; who was nothing but a mountain of muscle and armour raised up as if to strike Farkas.
Vilkas who as always was interceding in his brothers drunken brawls rushed forward and pulled his brother away; despite an eager Farkas who was ready to test himself against the orcs who seemed to hold no respect for either the dragonborn, or his companions.
The orc Druz gro-Wzgurn who had originally made up to strike Farkas was restrained himself; not by the physicality of his comrade but rather a simple hand clamping around his own in warning, in difference to his elder he resigned himself to sitting back down.
Reynald then only choose to intercede; taking a stand between the now calmed Farkas and the two orcs, he said then "My man Farkas doesn't hold his tongue well when he has had his mead; nor does he suffer what he sees as disrespect to me or his brothers, I pray you do not take offence"
"What your brethren says is no concern of mine; I hold to only the command of my king" was the reply from Xzul; willing to leave it at that, Reynald could only agree and ordered his own men to settle down for the night and break up the fires.
Now the issue was done and in the morning the group once again took of at first light; in the hopes of reaching the meeting point of the king before another night fell, now neither of the orcs seemed to harbour any resentment yet Farkas was still unimpressed.
"Just wait until we see this orc's in a real battle; we nords pushed the imperials out of our land yet they still are held under their grip" he said to those around him who were of the same point of view, Vilkas however was again their too check his rash mouth.
"You may think so brother; but we've pledged ourselves to follow the harbinger in all his quests, if he thinks these orcs are worthy then who are we to complain" was his reasoning; grudgingly Farkas relented but within himself was determined to outdo the best of these orcs.
The rest of the ride was held in a silence as the lot of the group pressed forward to reach their destinations; gradually however the horses that where being used for transport lost their legs so that rests where taken here and there; with Reynald and Aranea taking turns on scanning for outlying dangers with their magical abilities.
This continued for some time through the late days and finally the nights as darkness came upon them, however the horses that were the finest of the companions Skyrim raised mounts had served their holders well; as did the orcs as they came up upon many miles covered.
It meant that in few days; with most of the fourth gone the group of riders finally arrived at the place of meeting for the two powers of High Rock; it was unlike what Reynald had envisioned.
Instead of meeting at some place of the orcs where their brutal looking towers and structures rose up menacingly; or where a rouge orc battalion stood at the ready, menacing and equally fearsome; Reynald was instead greeted by the sight of an old breton fortress.
It was like it's original inhabitants laid useless seemingly by the Warp in the West; the event that had laid out many of the minor powers of the bay, the four towers and gates that had settled around each point of the stone fortress looked to have been completely destroyed; beyond any repair while those same walls where falling apart.
The only look of intimidation about the place where the sentries above who patrolled the sundered stronghold; they themselves where clothed in armour expected more of brigands and bandits rather than that of a king's guard.
It unsettled Reynald for a moment before his brain worked up the possible cause of such a thing; pleased he said to his orc guides "your king does not wish to be seen consorting with me just yet then" was what he surmized, with either orc only willing to give him a neutral; yet seemingly still begrudged acceptance.
Now at the time of arriving the night was only just falling; so that Reynald could get a good look at the surrounding expanse of land, this place despite still being within the reaches of the mountains was still more laid to ground the wrothgarians; or the reach expanse itself. It reminded the dragonborn of fond; yet fading memories of the home he had once upon a time in his earliest years in High Rock, the low lying fields and streams on which his brother and he would play for hours.
With such fond memories came the bitter resentment of losing them however; and that too was all too familiar a feeling within his breast, before he had long to think on such things the orcs urged them to get inside the abandoned fort.
"Lead the way" Reynald replied simply; with Xzul doing so without any delay.
The short trot to the place in question was hardly anything but tense; with the guards above looking down with suspicion before then realising who approached, those below looked up with their arms on their hilts; trusting that Reynald would not have laid them into a trap.
It took only a few moments for the group to enter the ruin yet it had felt like hours for Farkas; Aela and the like, inside however they found a little more than an abandoned ruin. Here there were guards more fitting of the king of the orcs; with fearsome looking triple layered orcish armour on all two dozen of the hulking masses of Malacath's creation; this was added to by the grave looking halberds and battleaxes hefted by these brutes to make them truly a formidable looking force.
Vilkas; who was nearby Reynald leaned over in his saddle and whispered "Imagine what we could do with an army of these", Reynald could only agree at seeing how well these orcs looked; it was hardly news to him however how fearsome these people were as combatants.
He had spent over a year hunting down those groups terms as rouges and rebels after all; something perhaps best left to the past.
"It is time for you to meet our lord; leave your guard here" Xzul said then having removed himself from the saddle; without any surprising difficulty given how encumbered he was, Reynald followed suit and bade his men await him.
Aranea who had always been reserved spoke up warning Reynald of leaving himself unattended; he brushed off her concern knowing that it would show weakness on his part to be guarded, "I have nothing to fear here Aranea; stay with the others and prepare" he told her before making off behind Xzul and then Druz without the least hesitation.
All his companions then looked on with a bout of apprehension; Reynald however faltered not one step as he was led away up to the old broken down battlements, the gaze of the orc guards faltered for not a second as the dragonborn passed them.
Now alone and with only two heavily arms orcs for company the dragonborn could feel a twinge of unease slipping into his mind, he was as always comforted however by the tendrils of lightening that tickled his fingers at his calling; with the ingrained language of the dragon upon his mind settling him further still.
The keep seemed large; but age had brought it down somewhat so that certain passages and rooms where left uninhabitable, this included the main rooms of whatever king that had once called this place his bastion. Reynald was instead lead to an antechamber with a floor that delved into a decline; with a rotted flag behind the mainstay which was a minor throne, now with an eroded table dragged in front.
The room was bare save for some postings here and there; with the smell of troll fat and the like alerting Reynald's nose to the sacrifices orcs where known to make to their daedric prince of creation, what caught the dragonborn's eye was not the smell; but the lone member within the room.
Neither orc that had accompanied Reynald took a step farther' allowing him to enter the room that had only a table; some furnishings and the aforementioned sacrifices burning within a small shrine to the west corner. In the centre however stood Shura Dul gro-Yargus; the leader of all free orcs within the lands of their homeland and one of the few leaders within High Rock not in favour of the imperial courts.
Now orcs as a people where naturally muscular and full of brawn; so that they stood higher than most bretons and even in most cases their nordic counterparts, but even that explanation did not account for the sheer size of this king among his fellows. Even Xzul who stood at an impressive few spans taller than Reynald did not match the height of this orc; while Shura's breadth took Druz as a relative weakling.
To make him stand out even further; instead of the heavy armour of any ordinary orc commander Shura wore a sparkling suit of dark as night armour, made in the same fashion as his compatriots armour but with a more exalted look about it. To complete the look of majesty a single ebony broadsword rested at his hip rather than his strapped to his shoulders; such was his size.
Reynald in comparison looked diminutive rather than impressive; with only his jagged helmet of dragon bone and accompanying armour allowing him some semblance of matching fierceness.
"You are the dragonborn, the one who went forward to the lands of the gods themselves and defied times will" the huge orc stated in a low rumble that reminded the dragonborn of his Greybeard ally's, both powerful and restrained in equal measure.
Reynald replied simply saying "I am" leaving them in a few moments of charged silence, Shura seemed to be looking over the dragonborn as if to pick up on any weakness found within, all the while Reynald's gaze diverted not for a second under the scrutiny of Shura's terrible amber orbs.
The king of the orcs then pressed forward with his armour moaning not for a second; allowing Reynald to know just how perfectly it had been made for it's inhabitant, still scrutinising the king offered his hand up to which Reynald replied with his own.
Shura then said "only among the mightiest of my own tribe have I found those able to keep my gaze; or suffer my hand"; all the while his hand pressed upon Reynald's with seeming intent to crush it, but again neither Reynald's gaze nor his grip faltered.
After yet more moments of the challenge; Reynald managed to bring himself to speak even under the strain saying with a calm confidence "I have since my first days as a soldier fought here and there; meeting bandits and rebels yet not once meeting any who could match my skill in arms; nor magical ability. Yet only recently I at once found an opponent worthy to claim my soul; and the power to truly become a legendary warrior, I find your gaze less than that of the Alduin; how could I not endure".
At that the hulking orc seemed to have something take hold of him and he finally relented; allowing Reynald's hand free before releasing the stiffness of his shoulders, he said with some measure of respect "Any who braved that which could not have been beaten; yet had done so anyway is more than my equal I believe", the king then looked again on Reynald but without the same fire in his eyes.
"Tell me dragonborn; do you wish to have my armies at your side to make your claim to an empire" Shura asked; his voice more questioning now than the before matters of statement.
"I would have your warriors to aid my own in challenge" Reynald told him in reply in his most austere voice, Shura then instead of directly replying beckoned Xzul in with a signalling of hand.
The king then spoke directly to Reynald saying "I have heard many tales of your great power; and no less than that I have even received word of how you slew those of the thalmor that dared sack one of the old orc colonies of Skyrim, yet for me to support you my lord-god Malacath must have some statement of your strength".
At that Reynald wondered just exactly what sort of daedric trial he would have to complete; knowing something of the various trials these princes were known to hand out to worshippers and worthy warriors, he asked just that and was told "Some ways north of my kingdom; at the peak of the wrothgarians where even the imperials do not stray, my lord Malacath's greatest effigy stands tall; you will go their as all prospective orc kings have and prove yourself worthy".
Only being able to fathom loosely what could be involved; Reynald could only agree on the returning promise from Shura, however before he was led off by Xzul he asked "I wonder how long it would take your kingdom to be ready to aid me; when I complete my task"
The king's reply was stonier this time; "Do not be so sure of your power over the designs of Malacath" he growled; to which Reynald could only say with his eagerness unfolding.
"I do not like to appear disrespectful; but i must know for my own soldiers so that they may join us" then Shura appeared to rile still further; but he relented knowing this sort of breton who was one among thousands would not bend, instead he told him some details.
"My personal battalion is always ready to fight; two further could be readied within the week; the entire kingdom of mine would take some few weeks however"; knowing this Reynald consented to leave without asking anything further of the king.
Again he made outside into the now dark night of the camp; immediately relieving those who came with for his guard, not one had unbridled their armour nor set their weapons down. He got to them quickly and made for his own horse; questions flew here and there from his many interested followers.
He settled them all however saying "I must go and complete a task; so that I can receive the backing of the king and his armies; I will ride with Xzul and none can accompany, instead you will send signal's to Detritus back at the camp", the complaints that were assured to crop out flew from every mouth seemingly and Reynald could only raise a hand to silence them after a good few moments.
He said again in his most compelling tone "You have all pledged to follow my orders and carry out your duties; now settle down and do as commanded", at the quieting he said to Aela who within the crowd "Take Aranea and together send a bright fire arrow into the sky; to alert Detritus to the new developments" then he said to Farkas and Vilkas "You two take half the force prepare to meet Detritus on the road; you will lead him here", then he turned to Xzul and nodded his ascent to their leave; now despite being run down from the ride the Orc agreed and quickly took of from the gates of the fort with Reynald in pursuit.
They left the main road that they had travelled upon so far and instead cut across the low lying countryside; in the distance was the beginning of the wrothgarians which on this angle was at their mightiest, unsurprisingly however Xzul who was still quiet led them not along the main paths towards the nearby settlements but instead curved ways around.
He could of course fathom the reason; the nearby Norvulk was a relay for the legion and had been in use as a buffer against any orc uprisings; despite being a township rather than an actual military fort. In the distance across the fields and grasslands he could make out the sturdy walls of the settlement which had only been there since the last assault of the orc homeland.
The orc city itself could be seen far in the distance on an upraised slope; which led to the expanse of mountain regions that covered the middle land of High Rock, from even this distance he could take in the great stone and malachite walls of Orsinium that had since their last destruction been remade to some semblance of grandeur. Just within them he could make out the imposing tower of the sworn oath that had defended to the last in the last sacking of the city; that itself hardly being surprising given how the orcs revelled in their gods within.
Now further on the pair abandoned the grasslands and took to the beaten path once again having passed the imperial outpost; they crossed towards the beginning of the mountain reaches with little haste. Rushing along however Reynald's curiosity got the better of him and without warning he deviated and turned off towards the western road, Xzul could only call out but to no avail; Reynald got further along towards the coast before stopping at the end of the long rise.
Below him and further still some many miles lay the once jewelled city of Wayrest; standing erect if not still greatly reduced by the vicious assault it was subjected to by those from the Thrassian Reef, at one point during his youth he had walked along the pearled and polished white boulevards of the city; having being impressed greatly by it's natural beauty and seeming glow even in the darkest of nights.
At the time he fully believed that unlike any other city this one stood out amongst many in the bay; soothing magicka could be felt throughout the air while beautiful fountains and statues depicted the greatness of the city, while looming merchant houses; banks and palaces all stood as a testament to it's greatness.
The dragonborn could only feel a great sadness then as he surveyed the same city rebuilding still from the almost complete destruction; which owed more to Daggerfall's jealousy and the accompanying imperial corruption than the actual assault.
He was then reminded from behind him his current obligation as Xzul chided him in a low growl; turning away from the sore sight Reynald allowed the orc to lead him away into the beginning of the mountain reaches.
Having turned to then what should have been the dark of night; Reynald and Xzul were instead treated to the rolling lights of an aurora spreading across all the skies in a beautiful panorama. Always thinking it as the god's providence the dragonborn reduced his horse to a trot and watched the gradual encompassing of the entire sky; so that the emerald lights seemed to rise up beyond the heavens and reach as far as the night could be seen.
Then as they made along the dragonborn secretly prayed "If I am to master this mountain; and with it steal the heart of these legions then allow me my powers against this daedric prince's tests".
Nothing was immediate in coming then; so Reynald with Xzul after another mile or so stopped to refresh themselves and their mounts.
Where they sat was on a non-committed path that was both well used yet under kept; it lay on the side of a mountain path that cut away into the beginning of the wrothgarians, it was no confidence that Xzul had meant for them to rest here, as they sat to rest the hulking orc said to Reynald "This path is well known among my people; yet none of your sort nor the imperials know much of it's use"
Reynald could see why clearly; it was far too close to the orc capital to be of any military use while scouts and spies would not venture so close to a well trodden path, "this leads to your Malacath's shrine then" he asked to which Xzul replied certainly, if the dragonborn was hoping to receive more instruction then he would be mistaken.
The orc only said "Follow the path and you will find yourself up the way of the mountain as far as old towers of Gortwog's; then the path will be no more and you will have to use your strength to climb the remaining mountain", the orc then changed his tone to something resembling contempt stating "No breton nor imperial has ever braved the fierce winds like my orc brethren; without armours and furs to withstand the winds that lord Malacath commands, you would be well to follow the example of my brothers".
Taking this as the natural slight levelled against his people Reynald instead of rebuking the orc instead laid down his jagged helmet; before then removing his armour piece by piece with his furs then following. Only the dragonborn's gauntlets; boots; amulet of Talos and loincloth with his two weapons; long and short remained.
Despite then being of a lesser size than Xzul his body was in pristine condition; with his shoulder's being squared and protruding; his chest and arms like lashed together leathers; and of course accompanying legs that looked fit to pull with the same strength of oxen.
Reynald said to the on looking Xzul "I have faced the greatest threat of the age; destroyed whole armies of dragonslaves; thalmor and caused legions to route, do you think I fear some weather" was the question; to which Xzul could only gaze at him with fierce eyes.
Nothing left to be said Reynald took up what remained of his supplies and drained his water pouch; he then ate up all his salted meats before taking of towards the mountain path. Xzul merely watched him go before preparing a camp and awaiting the return; or news of death for the dragonborn.
Now away from his last accompanying person Reynald took the time to survey what was before him; all that would be found however was fields of snow beginning to settle before him on the higher reaches of the mountains while a cold chill settled through the lower rungs.
Barely clothed as he was the dragonborn fought against the settling cold in his body; he began to liven his pace and make leaps and bounds up the poorly maintained steps so that some warmth returned to his body. This was all that could be done for him however; and this form of winter punishment assaulted the dragonborn for many lengths as he covered the pathway upwards.
Gradually however as he ascended he could see the outline of snowed in pair of towers; outlined against the backdrop of yet more jagged rocks and icy straits, he pushed on then and within a short time he was outside the doors of this position.
Now knowing better through experience that to simply enter Reynald instead pulled free his now cold to the touch blade; his other hand licked with flames before he entered, within he found something hostile. It was a snow cat similar to that found in the mountains of Jerall; rather than their larger cousins of Skyrim, with a natural fierceness it went to an attack position.
Used to hunters rushing away to high ground or a civilian fleeing; the cat stood back and watched as it's prey cocked back his sword arm and billowed flames as if an orb within his other ready hand, even with it's instincts geared towards something as basic as feeding the cat seemed to think better of it; instead turning and without another growl leaping from the tower into the cold.
Returning his sword to the hilt Reynald quickly searched the room for anything that would help offset the cold as he ascended; he quickly found therein a chest an old worn cloak. Deciding it due providence he quickly slipped it around his shoulders and without thought of a heating spell took off into the wind and accompanying cold once again.
It was from here he could see a Cliffside some ways up and above him; almost at a vertical so that he could see climbing was to be their for the remainder of it, feeling as if he should not forego the first trial through magical ability he took off and began to navigate the ascent.
The upward struggle was something that Reynald had experience of; having operated within the mountain regions of Elsweyr during his early days within the legion, this was also coupled with the extensive time he had spent traversing the mountains of Skyrim in search of relics and long forgotten fortresses.
All this meant that the naturally low-laden breton could manoeuvre himself up the Cliffside with something resembling the dexterity of a bosmer; though not of the same quickness of course, he found much to his relief that despite the conditions the mountain side could be gripped with ease; provided the strength to ascend was there.
It reminded him of the strangeness of the throat of the world; how it was made of the most unique of substances despite it's rather ordinary looking surface; then on the last stretch of the mountain Reynald found himself facing a complete vertical climb, there on the very ascent was a cliff point settled outwards so that a desperate leap would have to be made.
Exerted and very much under strain of the days trials the dragonborn could not be sure of his grasp; so deciding then he called together the magicka taught to him only recently by his dunmer battlemage Aranea. A strike of crimson energy throughout his body allowed Reynald to feel his legs were like that of a acrobat; so that he could with assured nimbleness leap upwards and with a tight grip pull himself onto the final obstruction to the shrine.
Taut muscles then gave him the ability to pull his upper body towards safety; while his legs crossed to balance him, however before he could even raise himself fully a swirling vortex of magicka came before him.
Cursing the dragonborn struggled to maintain his grasp; while looking up to find himself faced with three figures all draped in lightless cloaks, all of them faceless and formless.
"Why do you impede me" he asked in a tight voice; keeping his composure despite his muscles struggling against the tension of keeping such a position, on the asking the lead figure removed his hood which in place showed a nasty; almost demon like orcish face unlike anything he had seen before.
"We are the shamans of Malacath; priests who follow his will and test those who are worthy, why do you bring yourself here weakling" the now hoodless figure asked from behind a heavy brow; horribly twisted upturned canines and scar stained grey skin, his two accompanying figures where still silent and foreboding.
Reynald answered in the strongest voice he could muster saying "I come to test myself against Malacath's trials, to receive Shura's aid for my war"; then Reynald attempted to push himself upward; only to be stopped by a cruel foot being stomped against his hands that almost made him fall to his death below.
"No one save the creation of Malacath can permit themselves to attempt our lord's trials" the orc then growled in a guttural sounding tone; his pressure on Reynald's hands increasing preventing him from summoning his destructive power, "go to death" was then the final word from the orc; before his foot looked to come down on Reynald's head.
Hanging powerless then the orcs seemed to revel together as the heavy foot was due to land; enough force within to snap their victim's neck, then however Reynald raged and with his own awesome power shouted "Fus Do Rah" so that the boot never landed; with the three orcs instead being sent upwards as if weightless before all three then landed in undignified heaps.
Reynald then launched himself upward having used his restoration abilities to bring relief to his bruised hands and strained arms, as he got up the orcs where still struggling to rise allowing him to pull free his sword; as they all rose and appeared furious the dragonborn summoned crackling sparks of lightening to his free palm
"You will receive me orsimer, or I will tear you limb from limb before your god" Reynald threatened in his own fierce tone, as all three of the orcs then where gathered around by many more cloaked beings that seemed to emerge from the dark behind the huge tribute to Malacath, showing him as always to be of his creation's own form; ready to smite down on the world around him.
The lead orc that was now joined by the brutal faces of his peers replied with a vehemence as cold as the night itself; shouting into the wind "I am the executor of Malacath's will and these are his disciplines, you will die under our torture; this I promise you", now shouting and raving in their tongue the orc waited behind as those around him rushed for the dragonborn.
They were all like their leader furious so that rather than rush in Reynald called to him destructive powers only marshalled further by years of study and equal use; the two immediate orcs he originally assaulted were the quickest so that when he summoned his power they were quickly disabled by fearsome blasts of ice than made them fall as if toppled statues.
Three behind then took notice and stopped to use their own spells and conjurations; but Reynald was better still and with an inner summoning called his people's own power, it meant that when the three sent their bursts of flames and lightening bolts his ward held; before then dispelling into his body to augment his own power.
Submitting himself to their assault only for a few moment the dragonborn then turned the offensive upon them; with flames billowing forward and lightening streaking out so that the three orcs where cowed and could only think of defence. The rest could not think of pushing their own power against him while his wards remained bolstered by his breton birthright; instead pulling free their enchanted daggers and rushing around his guard.
Breaking off his attacks Reynald pulled free his sword and with a flurry engaged the two pair of orcs that came around him; all of them like their master where clothed in only in black cloaks so that no armour interfered with the flee of the battle. Now against four opponents Reynald was hard pressed; flurrying against one opponent would only leave his back open to another so that the dragonborn was shifting his feet here and there, he never trusted one position for long and instead relied on these four becoming over confident and sloppy.
It worked first as he slashed against one opponent before then back stepping from another; he then feinted a strike against his secondary opponent while another attempted to cut across his fellow orc, then impeded by his ally this orc could not level his weapon in time as Reynald there lunged forward; imbedding his weapon in the orcs shoulder while those of the other orcs sailed without finding their mark, swift as Reynald was.
Turning away as the orc dropped it pain Reynald wrenched his blade free without regard to his downed opponent; instead bringing his hand up and with deft finger sending a strike of lighting into the closest orcs eye, he could only duck away meaning Reynald was free to again bound forward and with a wild slash cut across the stomach of another orc who was bringing a heavier; summoned daedric hammer to crash down on their enemy.
Now remaining where only two of these orcs; save that of the leader who still bore teeth and snarled some ways away, the dragonborn's secondary light dagger came free as the orcs closed on him.
Both where now focused and cautious preferring to skirt around for an opening but Reynald now had his blood up into the face of the striking cold; he went against the two orcs and found his long blade to hold any assistance at bay; while his weightless short blade pushed the orcs back time and time again.
Trained with diligence and holding the natural strength of there birthright the orcs where able to hold out for many strokes of the dragonborn, but even they were not enough and soon both lay disabled like their fellows on the snow laden ground.
Turning with only a light sweat breaking across his body Reynald faced the master here with nothing but eagerness across his features; the orc meanwhile stood rooted to the spot while snarling at the failure of his protégés.
"Never have I seen so many of the true born struck down by an inferior" the lead orc then said; before his glare focused entirely on Reynald, who had not moved but instead faced him head on.
"I have come here to ensure the test of Malacath; dare you stop me" the dragonborn asked in challenge; with the orc only snarling back in response. He did then after a time step away from his dominant position around the statue.
"You have proven yourself worthy of facing the tests of Malacath; by silencing the challenge of my disciplines, pray you do not fail breton; for I will relish in your torture". Now allowed passage the dragonborn sheathed his weapons and marched past the orc; oblivious to his demented glare.
Now nothing was between the statue of the orc god and the dragonborn; who looked up as if uncertain where to cast his gaze, he only awaited a moment before the booming voice of Malacath became apparent; settling the winds and quieting the groans of the fallen orcs.
"Who is it that stands before me; injuring my creations and desecrating my shrine" was the roar of anger from the daedric prince; who seemed to frenzy the winds as if to push Reynald back, the dragonborn only stood firm then.
Reynald's voice was there to match the deafening sounds of Malacath; bellowing back "ZU'U DOVAHKIIN LOK VAH KOOR" so that not only did he announce his title but he also settled the winds of Malacath, the reply he got was not of that expected,.
Laughter; much like the original statement in its strength and intensity was heard before the Malacath recognized Reynald as what he was; chosen by the divines, "You wish to hold my orcs as soldiers for your army; to cross the lands of the mortal realm and cause destruction and slaughter, if you pass my trials then I will give you my ascent mortal; what say you".
The question was answered immediately, "I say yes lord Malacath" and on that two seamless doors parted at the base of the shrine; being hidden against the base of the structure.
The one of the bloody curse then said "Enter mortal, and pray your soul does not fall into my keeping", Reynald as ever was bold; faltering not a step as he marched inside.