Date posted: 22nd October 2020
Not even bad random encounters can stop Tigercry from doing excellent beta'ing!
CHAPTER IX
A tense silence follows as the warlord surveys the destruction before him. The necromancer seems giddy in delight.
"Is this someone we should know?" asks Sino.
Argo rolls for Lore. She begins to explain:
"Krogan the Uncivilised is a legend known throughout the world. Born in the hills far north of the Wastes, he became a renowned boss when he led a Waaagh on the fortress of Alhudud at a young age. After the sacking, wanderlust overtook him, and he travelled throughout the known world as both a saviour and menace alike.
"Krogan became a thief in distant Zhonghua, a chief of the Fleethoofs in Pashtunstan, a pirate in the Green Sea, a teefling in numerous kingdoms of man, elf and dwarf alike. It was not until he returned late to the Wastes at a later time did he defeat the mightiest warboss there, the infamous Grokhstar, and became its leader. Where he would later wage numerous attacks on the Eastern realms of Man. No one, not even the might of the Empire nor the dwarves of the mountains could withstand his wrath.
"Some say he died to an Assassin's blade," Argo grins. "Others say it was to jealous rivals. Regardless of the method of his death he died leaving his kingdom prosperous and strong."
"Wow, Argo-san. Did you really memorise all of that for the campaign?" asks Silica.
"Oh no, I read it from this PDF excerpt the GM sent me," she says, holding up her phone. "GM, your lore dumps are way too long."
Well maybe you shouldn't have chosen Lore as a skill.
The necromancer kneels before the skeletal orc. "Great King Krogan, I have awoken you from your long slumber! With you under my command, and the other two warlords whom I would later resurrect and the cooperation of Ameed Skullstompa, we will rule the world!"
Krogan the Uncivilised, blinks and glances at the necromancer, as if only noticing him." It is you who resurrected me from my death?" he asks, his voice deep and rumbling with the power of a mighty king.
"Indeed, it is I who - " the necromancer did not finish his answer as he narrowly avoided death as the orc's massive broadsword is thrown, embedding itself into the cobblestone floor.
"Fool! I was there, fighting gloriously in the afterlife in the service of Gork and Mork, and you take that away from me! I will tear you apart little man, before I return to my eternal Waagh with my gods!"
The orc jumps down the stairs and lands like a great panther. He sprints, boney fist ready to punch the necromancer's head off. His fist stops mid-punch as the wizard's powers flow through him.
"O Great King, know that it is I who command you, and not the other way! For my first order, I demand you to slaughter these third-rate adventurers!"
"Hey, we're at very least second-rate adventurers!" says Argo.
"Kill them!"
"Bossfight!Bossfight!Bossfight!Bossfight!"
Krogan the Uncivilised, reaches for his broadsword. His face is scrunched in hatred as he prepares to do the sorcerer's bidding.
"But he doesn't have a face, how can you tell his face is scrunched in hatred?" asks Sino.
"Yeah, and how did he blink with no eyelids?" asks Silica.
The biology of orc biology is beyond your understanding.
You all roll for Initiative. Wow, good rolls. You all go before Krogan does, except the swordsman who goes last.
"Leave the big guy to me," says the Black Swordsman with giddiness.
Sino goes first. What do you do?
"I shoot the necromancer."
You shoot him, same spot as the last time. Whatever spell that protected him before doesn't seem to be working.
"I nail him with my knives," says Argo.
You throw them, all three sticking into him like a porcupine and the poison does its work.
"I run up to him and smack him with my flail."
You clink clank your way there and whip your chained ball, hitting him in the knee, bringing him down to ... dangerous low health.
Well, damn. I didn't have a plan for this.
The necromancer snarls in pain. Realising he was but a single dice roll away from death, he casts another spell. Smoke erupts from where he stands, but as it dissipates, you realise he is gone! It must be a teleportation spell of some kind!
"That's an asspull, GM," says Sino.
No, it's a solid backup plan shut up.
"There's still the orc, you know," says the swordsman.
You ready yourselves to fight the orc. He ch-
"Wait, wait!" says Argo. "According to the Game Master's book-"
I can't believe a player read the Game Master's book.
"Hush. Anyway, a necromancer has to be within a certain range to control their thralls. And since he's gone, he should be losing control right?"
Well … yes.
Yet the orc is still standing, and has not collapsed into a pile of bones.
Krogan drops to a knee, exhausted. "Hells, I have forgotten the slave collar of weirdkraft. You have my thanks, strangers. Pray tell, what year is it?"
"It's 2020," answers Silica.
"No, I think he means the year in-game," says Argo.
It actually is 2020.
"Well that's a nice coincidence!" says the elf.
"What? No no no no no no!" The Black Swordsman stomps his feet like a small child. "We were supposed to engage in an epic duel! It would be a battle worthy of the Guts God's favour!"
"It's good to know you still have that single player mentality there, Kirito," says Shino.
The orc warlord turns to you, red eyes bright, but not as blazing as before. "I've no quarrel with you, Champion of Chaos. I've a quarrel with the wizard who claimed my soul from the afterlife. I'll hunt him down and cut him like the squig he is!"
The halfling raises her hands. "We should team up!"
"What?"
What?
"The wizard is the BBEG. We should join forces and we'll have a better chance to stop him!" says Silica.
"I can't argue with that," says Argo with a smile.
The dwarf sighs but lowers her rifle. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Definitely should have given the wizard more health. Er, roll for Charisma.
"I got a 17!" says Silica.
Damn. Fine, Krogan the Uncivilised joins your party! Hold on, I need to convert his NPC sheet to a PC one.
The swordsman stands before Krogan, flaming blade pointed at his chin. "Wait, he could still be under control of the necromancer! He could still be a danger to us!"
"I am still animated by the wizard's magic, but I do not feel his arcane strings upon me," says Krogan.
Silica rolls for Arcana. "The more a necromancer controls a body, the less of a mind the cadaver possesses. What's the point of resurrecting a great mind if the mind cannot be used properly?"
The orc nods. "The priestess speaks sensibly."
"Well - I challenge you to a duel! Come at me, greenskin!"
"Is he always like this?" asks Argo.
"Unfortunately, yes," says the other two girls.
"10 gold on the orc," says Argo.
"You're on," say the girls.
Krogan considers your request with a thoughtful expression. "I accept."
"Good! Now draw your sword!"
The massive orc merely folds his boney arms over his ribbed chest. "No."
"You accepted my duel!"
"I did."
"Then fight me," he says through gritted teeth.
"Win or lose, I would return to the afterlife. The only reason I do not fall upon my own sword is because I find such a thing reprehensible and I would much prefer to snap the necromancer over mine own knee. So bid your blade, swordsman. I fear not to return to my kin and my gods."
The swordsman readies his dice to attack … but doesn't roll. "This is no fun. Fine! We'll go kick some wizard ass."
"Ah well, no gold for me then," says ARgo.
Sino consults the map. "The closest orc tomb is a day's plus of travel in the northern part of Golgotha."
"Then let us make haste," says Krogan, sheathing his blade. "Lead the way, squat girl."
Off you go, to find the other tombs before the necromancer does.
And why doesn't everyone go grab some pizza or something, I need to rebalance the mob scaling.
After a quick consumption of pizza, the party travels to their next destination. The extra man- (orc?) power allows you to travel quicker than usual. He even carries Sino's heavy gear on him, much to the dwarf's delight.
You encounter numerous orcs, working in tandem with goblins and undead. With good rolls and smart tactics, you make quick work of them. Krogan's broadsword, still sharp after centuries of being entombed, sings a song of death as he cuts through his enemies. The blade is as long as a greatsword, but in his massive fist it is no different than the swordsman's own black blade in comparison.
Krogan and the Black Swordsman work in tandem to cut down a particularly tough big 'un. Your fighting styles are eerily similar - lightly, or in Krogan's case none at all, armoured, with a bastard sword in hand and a lust for battle.
The skeletal warlord flicks the orc blood off his blade. "Well fought, champion."
"Save your compliments orc, I'll not take any from the likes of you!" the swordsman grumbles from behind his black winged helm.
Silica mutters under her breath, "Now we have two racists in our party."
"I'm not a racist, Silica," says Sinon.
"Don't you have a feat called Favorite Enemy?"
"It's called Favoured Enemy but yes."
"And it's specifically designed to do damage to a specific enemy type."
"I see where you're going with this."
"Therefore, you have one that does extra damage agains Orcs!"
"No … my Favoured Enemy is aimed at Undead. You know, the dead people."
"Oh, so you're ableist too!"
The dwarf lets out a long sigh. "Oh my God …"
The trek takes longer than you expected, even with the map and Krogan's knowledge of the terrain who has changed long after entombment - "There used to be a shopping mall here," he tells you - and the group after group of enemies only proves to slow you down. You fear that you may not make it in time before the next warlord is awakened and enthralled.
Alas, night has fallen upon Golgotha once again. You vote to make camp nearby an artificial basin. The water flows still from nearby pipes and you spy fish in the depths. Krogan comments on the ingenuity of orc plumbing with some sense of pride.
You set up camp behind a pile of rubble and a tarp that encloses the camp so as to provide cover. Water is boiled, fished are speared by swords, and bedrolls are laid out. The fish are fat things, and you wonder what ecosystem allows them to grow so big. The orc deigns to not eat anything what with the whole lacking a stomach thing.
Argo, ever the seeker, speaks to the warlord. "Krogan, there must be an interesting tale or two of your many adventures. Tell us of the old times."
"Very well. What do you wish to know?"
Silica speaks up, "Why are you called the Uncivilised?"
Sino nods. "I was wondering that too. You appear to be a lot more civilised than your fellow orcs."
Wow, Shino. Upping the racism, huh.
"Oh not you too."
"I see this is becoming a trend. Very unfortunate," says Argo.
"Argo!"
Krogan continues, "Wherever I travel, they see me as a savage greenskin. When I am in the company of fellow orcs, they see me as tainted by the loftiness of civilisation. Either way, to both, I am considered uncivilised. When I became a warboss myself, they were quick to stop to refer to me as such. But legends still linger I suppose, and they do not go away even with the passage of time."
"You also talk weird," says the swordsman while reheating his fish on the flat of his sword.
"You got any tips in dealing with weirdkfraft?" asks the elf. "I heard you've fought many a sorcerer in your travels."
At the mention of magic, Krogan's red eyes grow just the slightest bit brighter. "I do. Let me tell you how to deal with the weidkraft."
Krogan tells you a tale of how when he was but a brash youth, he climbed a wizard's tower to steal a jewel of great worth. The tale is difficult for even you to believe.
A walled garden of tigers?
An alien being with the body of a man and the head of an elephant?
The evil wizards that shrinks in size and gets squished and the tower crumbles to nothing?
"GM, have you been smoking drugs," asks the swordsman.
I don't do drugs, Kirito. Anyway, you now do +2 damage against all magic users.
The party hurrahs at their new power.
Krogan gazes at the moon, hidden behind the clouds. "It is late, squishies, allow me to take watch for the night for I require no sleep. I suspect we'll have an even more dangerous battles tomorrow."
It is dawn again as you pack up your camp and make haste. True to his word, Krogan suffers no Exhaustion penalty at all.
Curiously, you encounter no enemies on your warpath.
You see your destination before you arrive at it: the mage's tower, belonging to a certain weirdboy - the term orcs call their wizards. Krogan knows not any of the warlords buried in Golgotha, for he was the first.
The mage's tower stands three hundred meters tall. It is a criss-cross of steel and joints of metal bars resting on four massive pillars, a railroad bridge standing upright. It was not like a stone tower, circular and solid. No, it was more like a jumble of steel beams, stretched tall like a cone, a pyramid with the wrong proportions. The only room is at the very top, no doubt where the wizard is laid to rest. It is easily the tallest structure in the necropolis that wasn't carved into the mountain itself.
The amount of metal in its construction could craft twenty thousand rifles, outfit ten thousand Sipahis and their horses or create a hundred of the Emperor's Dardanelles bombards.
Despite none of you being wizards, you are utterly offended at the non-traditional design of the tower. It must be something only an orc can appreciate.
"I'm an orc and I think it's horrible," says Krogan.
You get closer to the tower, and already you find a small contingent of orcs and undead milling about the yard. There are some two dozen orcs, even more of Ameed Skullstompa's, and all are better geared and better armed than any other orc you've faced before. You see no sign of the necromancer at all, but the top room of the tower glows a bright green light even in the bright sunny day.
Argo rolls for Lore and comes up short.
"Well crap, I don't know what weirdboy this is," says the elf, "but if he's chosen this one to be resurrected, we're pretty screwed if we don't do something."
"How are we gonna get up there?" asks Silica.
"We don't," says Sino, unveiling the thing she's been hauling for half the session.
" …. Well, are you gonna tell us or not?" asks the swordsman.
"Yeah, you two have been pretty tight lipped about the whole thing. This whole adventure has only been portrayed through words over a table, you don't even have a mini to show for it," says Silica.
"What's the chances for me to hit the top of the tower up there?" asks the dwarf.
Pretty good odds, really with your high Ranged Skill.
"Alright, here's the plan …"
It's a well known fact that in the absence of an enemy, orcs will devolve into fighting each other to alleviate their boredom. A couple of orcs have started to krump the other.
A third was about to join when the tower above suddenly explodes in a ball of fire and magical energy. Hunks of scrap fall in flaming heaps. The orcs stand agape, before shouting and turning around to face the invaders.
"One down, two more cannonballs left," says Sino over the barrel of the smoking mortar. Your accuracy would make dwarven cannoneers proud and Empire artillerymen jealous.
"So this is the power of black powder," muses Krogan. "If only we had such technology at our disposal when I was still alive."
"Mortars are a thing in the middle ages?" asks Argo.
Firstly, it's the early modern period and yes they're a thing, and secondly, you're an elf, she's a dwarf, she's a halfling, he worships Satan, and you have an undead orc barbarian following you around.
"That's fair."
The lead orc, a big 'un in black plate with a sword as big as Krogan's bellowed a Waagh, and the others charge towards you. Roll for initiative.
The Black Swordsman, Krogan the Uncivilised and Silica the Priestess charge down to meet the enemies. Argo swings far wide around the orcs to attack from the flanks. The dwarf reserves her mortar, and takes potshots.
Javelins are thrown against the adventurers. One bounces off Silica's shield, another gets struck away by the burning black blade of the swordsman and two embed themselves into Krogan's ribs. They do minimal damage to the undead warlord, serving only to enrage him further.
Four are cut down by both swordsmen, while Silica taunts three others, their attentions turns towards the halfling. One javelineer gets shot down and another takes a couple of poisoned knives from the elf.
The melee boils down to the grindwork. Krogan faces the orc big 'un in the black plate and the two engage in a duel. While the Black swordsman takes up the attention of the big 'un's back up. The smell of orc flesh grimly smelling of burnt pork. Silica balks at the other sheer thought of cannibalism again.
A beam of light suddenly shoots forth from the top of the tower. It obliterates the orc javelineers and half of the remaining orc forces as the beam swings horizontally, blowing apart the cobblestone and turning the sand into shards of glass. The orcs, who were three quarters strong, have now shrunk to under half that number in an instant.
The orcs currently engaging you in melee forget you are even there as they throw themselves into cover, but many failed before the killing light destroys them. You all decide to do likewise and scatter for cover, fairing better than the orcs.
The beam sharply disappears anda figure flies out of the burning tower!
What is it? A bird? A dwarfcopter? Nay, it is none of that.
The flowing black robes of the necromancer can be seen even from the ground, as is the resurrected weirdboy with him, upon a flying carpet! The undead wizard has a concave mirror with him, and both he and the necromancer let out a terrible laugh as they soar over Golgotha.
It is only then Argo rolls well for Lore. "Finally, stupid dice! It's him! The orc weirdboy known as Orkimides!"
Argo is only able for a short moment to point at the pair as they fly towards the tomb of the last orc warlord.
You all come out of cover, surveying the carnage before you. The enemy has a head start, and you must move quickly. "How did they survive the mortar shot?" asks Sino.
"Orkimedes is strange, even amongst standard of orc weirdboyz. He has many a strange piece of technology on him, from belts that create a shield around them to coils that shoot out lightning. It is not a stretch he had an item of power that protected him and the necromancer," says Argo.
"There's no way we're catching up to them now," says Sino.
Silica rolls up her mail sleeves. "It seems now, I must unleash my special concoction! Quickly, I require my pot!"
A hasty cooking station is made on the spot amongst the burnt and cooked body of dead orcs. Despite the burt pork smelling air, water is boiled, the fish from yesterday is added and the salted meat you've been carrying is extracted of all its juices. Silica adds in sugar, and her secret ingredient: beans of unknown make.
Silica rolls well in her crafting and despite the good rolls, it still takes half an hour.
Finally the concoction is extracted from the pot and poured into cups. It smells vaguely of a tangy alcohol.
"What is this?" asks Argo.
"It's my secret tonic. It will give you speed beyond speed, eliminate fatigue and give you a great high. In mechanical terms, it applies Haste, negating any sort of Exhaustion penalty for the next few hours. It will allow us to travel without the nonsense of getting tired."
The swordsman examines the water suspiciously. "What's the catch?"
"A crash after the effect wears off. It can be pretty bad but I think the risk is worth the reward. I call it Beast. Won't work for Undead, I'm afraid."
"That is no worry for me, I do not feel fatigue as you do," says Krogan.
The party raises their cups and with a hearty "Kanpai!" downs it in a single gulp.
It tastes terrible yet the effect is almost immediate. You experience a high, and you feel you could fight a dozen orcs at once or climb the highest mountain.
The party chases after the Elusive One and Orkimides. There are two warlords left.
If you haven't read The Tower of the Elephant you really should. It's free!
The chapter was pretty light without humour but my beta reader put them in there rightly. You can thank TC for Argo being very Argo. Too many characters and they get kinda lost, you know?
Leave a review and see you next week.