In My Time of Troubles Chapter 1: Entry 1, a dungeons and dragons fanfic

Well isn't this fantastic! Books! Tomes! Inkwells and Quills!

I know the others in the clan think I'm crazy (well considering... yeah... I probably am) but fuck them! Books! BOOKS! And ones I can write in!!!! I missed ellipses... so much!

Except you Oghash if you're reading this (and somehow figured out English, I wouldn't put it beyond you!), you are a green skinned beauty whose divine form is greater than any sunset... .so, please, please, please don't hurt me!!! (You already think I'm crazy anyway so I doubt this'll shock you)

Though yeah I deserved the looks when I started capering around were somewhat deserved. That and the maniacal laughter... yeah I was a wee bit excited. And I'm still a kid... well in body anyway. I'm technically well, hmmmmm... 'm not sure anymore...

That's not good. But that's what these... journals... are for I suppose. Though wow writing is proving much harder than I remember. Stupid bulky fingers. Even if they're good for punching that stupid...

Oh right sorry. Explanations are in order I suppose, for whoever is reading this and figured out its more than the strange squiggles of a crazy man. You would be completely wrong!

These are strange squiggles of a crazy orc! (formerly human of another... realm? dimension? world?)

Karguk of Clan Stormfang to be exact. I had a nice boring non-orc name but that's pretty irrelevant after all these years. Well ten or eleven, not sure exactly. Time and being forced to relive your childhood on a primitive shithole while angry people try to kill you (as well as every other gods-damned thing on this bloody rock) with sharp pointy things or magic or whatever else tends to focus on different priorities. I blame Ilneval. Because it is mostly is his damned fault thank you very much. That and Christian God... sure I wasn't the best believer but really? This?

In technical terms (oh how I miss you words like technical!) it would be reincarnation. Or soul transference, with memories intact. Quite useful... if I'd had it from the start. See throwing a full blown mind into an infant is well... sorta a bad idea. So brain shut most of it away to stop me going crazy and slowly integrating back over the years as I grew from a sprog. I was a bright child still, hell genius level for an orc, which was useful I'll tell you when I was only just above average in the clan for strength.

Till I went to the shamans and it all came tumbling back in full. Thank you Ilneval!

Hoh boy was that a really bad fucking headache and a half for a week straight. Also Fuck you Ilneval!

Even got a visitation, or epileptic fit depending on your point of view, on my marching orders. Technically this is not a punishment evidently but rather our GLORIOUS ONE EYED LEADER demanding his 'minions' do something useful. And one of those 'useful' things was get me where I am by my great patron and now terrifying boss for life Ilneval. Woot! Praise Him! (Fucker!)

Well more technically he tried to summon precognitive (big words! THIS IS AWESOME!) abilities and host of other things that would allow him the perfect strategies to counter, conquer and other such things the vile and evul elves, humans, drow, gnomes, etc, etc, etc

Obviously he got the letter of said wish down. This basically boiled down to one soul (slightly used) and a number of various D books that the boss man can't read, most of them useless in my opinion. Evidently he'd written the whole thing off as a failure till my 'religious' experience in the shaman's tent. Then he only considered it mostly a failure. His confidence in my surviving, let alone being 'useful' was not filling me with warm happy thoughts. I'd argue but I largely agree I don't have the makings of the next Horde Leader of Doom that he seems to have wanted. Still it got me a nice position as trainee shaman in the clan. And there were no serious injuries or deaths involved! (Igmut's other eye still works perfectly after all!)

Sorry I'm rambling a bit again. Sadly I'm somewhat excited at this opportunity, I'm sure you can understand why. We orcs are hardly the most... um... intellectual of races and I was a huge book reader and rather nerdy. Almost mage-like I suppose it'd be here... well till now no way to indulge.

Now as to how I have this sudden treasure trove of tomes (which I can't read yet mores the pity) and this lovely diary, well, not going to lie. We just raided a traveling caravan while they were camped for the night at an inn with fortified walls. We also burned down the inn... it... just sort of happened. Orcs and Fire. What can I say?

And it's my fault. Or success. As I planned out this little escapade in getting by the night watchmen and overturning the defenses. Rather than Igmut's "glorious charge" plan which would get us all very, very, dead. And I like been alive.

And writing helps forget about the blood. Oh God it was everywhere. That dwarf's eyes when I... and I'd never hurt anyone before this...

Sorry about that. Just had to throw my guts up, and listen to the others laugh at me for being a 'pussy elfy orc' as they put it. Sympathetic to shock a chaotic evil race is not.

Now as I was saying we looted the inn and caravan. And despite the... unpleasantness... the majority of the defenders survived. Bravely running off into the night in various degrees of undress having been surprised in their sleep by a 'horde' or orcs. Banging shields really loudly and screaming battle-cries made our band of two dozen seem a lot bigger than it was – especially when we started doing so right in the middle of their camp after killing their watch. Dark-vision is fucking awesome and placing humans as Night-watchmen is dumb... especially when I saw dwarfs and elves in your camp. Darwin award dumb in fact.

Save for one particularly grumpy old dwarf who... had to be dealt with... before he harmed Oghash. That's life now. Depressing.

Thing is it was easy, in another life and for those 'civilized races' of the 'Forgotten Realms', to see this as just orc savagery. After nearly seeing my family and friends nearly starve to death and any efforts towards 'non-looting' survival plans thwarted by 'Adventurers' and other tribes... well one's opinion shifts. What maybe chaotic evil to some is merely lawful good to another.

What are we supposed to do?

Die quietly lest the peaceful lives of those killing us and driving us to the shittiest lands be disturbed? And as I'm an orc now and on that 'civilized' kill list the strategy of "Fuck that shit" is one I can get behind.

Do I want do this?

No I do not. But I like being alive. And having those I care for being alive. And this is a pretty cruel world. I'm pretty sure this is hell. Or at least purgatory. Sorry past life reference. So it's Team Ilneval, and by default Team GLORIOUS GRUUMSH from here on out, because as best I can tell were at a time when some bad, bad, shit is about to go down.

Now my, still worryingly vague, plan is to become the clan shaman. Frankly I am smart (even you agree Oghash), and even the basic aspects of a my past life is more knowledge of certain basics than most adventurers and scholars on Faerun would learn. Plus those lovely tattered, though still sorta useless in many ways, books back in the clan shrine. Its foreknowledge of roughly what's supposed to occur. Which is great as I wasn't a big DnD player in my other life unless Baldur's Gate counts. And this ain't at point in time. Or immediate area. Dagnabbit.

The clan is happy right now, and the rest of the clan will be when we return with all the loot and food we just cleared out. Though that's still some distance away through another clan's territory. Any counter raid hopefully falling on them not the Stormfang. Adventurers are a real fucking nuisance I'll tell you. Except...

I want, NEED, to learn magic. Especially arcane magic and artifacts; I'm learning everything I can of the clan's magic but frankly its way down the totem pole of power. Right now a pretty high level party of adventurers could wipe us out without much effort. Even if it doesn't really work like in RPGS. Again sorry for weird references, just keep thinking I'm crazy. It's easier I find.

But it's like I could walk into the Academy in Neverwinter and go "Hey can I sign up?" and not expect a fireball to the face. Gods damned racists!

Now my initial plan was what's stuffed in my backpack right now in the form of some scrolls and what appears to be the spell book of the wizard who legged it when I can roaring at him axe held high. Problem is can't read the scrolls worth squat and too afraid to mess around the spellbook of even a novice.

So for the past few miles I've been thinking... I want to capture a wizard.

Not a powerful one obviously. That would be stupid.

No one of those nice 1D4 noobs (again sorry) who a stiff breeze would blow over. I'm pretty sure some big scary orcs can pull that off. As long as we don't break them by accident. Stuff breaks in my clans encampment with worrying regularity.

Unfortunately... well... I may have let this little plan slip...

So yeah. They think it's a fucking great plan... though there was a bit of a misunderstanding. Especially in regards the training I was expecting to get from said noob wizard apprentice.

Evidently they have decided I was looking for a D4 boobed wizard to capture. Yeah this could be an issue...

Notes:

This isn't really meant as a serious thread unless it gets alot of interest. It's more an amusing idea someone suggested to me to make a go at.

Beta is thanks to TPK

When: Not sure exactly. We'll go with Winter.

Where: Shaman's Hut, Stormfang Camp. Somewhere really fuckin' cold.

Well I've realized something; my Clan is waaayyyyy worse off than I'd figured originally. Evidently our usage of females as auxiliary archers is mostly from desperation and breaks a whole pile of cultural taboos. Shaman train, the more you learn the less sense it all makes. That and sending barely trained youngsters like myself and others on a raid is not a positive sign. Oghash thinks I'm an idiot for not knowing. Go figure!

It also does not look good that I did not realise this minor detail, and that in fact all the clans in our neck of the woods are under severe pressure. As my mentor, the grumpy old codger Vretkag discussed, I just nodded along like I'd totally, totally knew this already. I am, in theory, training to the spiritual leader of the tribe after all and probably know this sorta stuff. I'm sorry but my explodey flasks were much more interesting to learn, and frankly much more practical since I was like Shaman Level 1 if I was being super generous in my view.

Which of course I am.

My 'catch a wizard' plan is still in the planning stage I'm afraid though does enjoy popular, albeit amused, support. In truth it likely boils down to the next bunch of lunatics, I mean dumb ass adventurers, to attack.

Yeah see it's been almost a season since my first glorious entry. Celebrating our 'magnificent' raid, fighting off a raid from another tribe, training to be a shaman while also using what little time left to go through the 'tomes' here in hut, has left limited time to write. That and the clan pester me when I start acting as I've nothing to do. Whatever do they mean by that?

On the bright side they longer get weirded out by it, nor annoy me for being not-orcish enough. The combination of the Raid and well...The Incident...being due to that. Now it was ENTIRELY Hebub's fault for what result and not me being influenced by the constant urge to hit annoying people, and things, and elves in general, that all orcs seem to have.

Not at all, nope I'm all CIVILIZED and not a frothing berserker like everyone in this tribe. Though I may have been frothing at the mouth, which does not undermine my view in anyway shape or form I feel! And I didn't kill him either (which is evidently an ultimate insult but fuck him the thick as two bricks vandal)

AND NO ONE IN THE CLAN WILL TOUCH MY BOOKS WITHOUT PERMISSION EVER AGAIN.

When: Still Bloody Winter. Snow is fuckin everywhere.

Where: Where else Shaman's Hut, Stormfang Camp. Ain't goin out in that weather.

Good News. Bad News.

We're snowed in, which is bad. But the good is we've enough supplies for the winter and I've an actual reason for my reading, training and studying the wizard stuff we captured. With further good news that I've sorta figured out how to utilise scrolls.

The Bad News was I set robes on fire thanks to said activation. Though the Good News was that there was a big pile of snow outside and quickly extinguished myself. Bad News is everyone things I'm a crazy lunatic again. Vretkag is an even grumpier old bastard than usual thanks to this. Evidently afraid I'll set fire to the whole village or some nonsense like that. Of course I won't, he's just been silly!

But now that my access to the magical scrolls and other captured items has been...temporarily restricted...I've had time to think somewhat on our current situation. Part of the reason the clan, and the others too really, are in such crappy condition is well...we orcs are sorta self-destructive. You know what would help alleviate our near continuous search for supplies – farms. We hunt, we raid, we fish but we don't farm. And that's sorta by divine mandate; the One Eye doesn't like the idea of orc farmers, he doesn't like that idea AT ALL.

We're the godsdamned Ironborn from Game of Thrones except not even that advanced. Now I've been told several distant tribes rule over farms run by slaves, or just dudes they threatened "Food or DIE!" so that's acceptable. A strange cultural taboo, but then again DnD was pretty crappy place to live. Wall of Faithless and all that. Spell-plague and the upcoming Time of Troubles. Oh...to be have indoor plumbing again. And proper housing. Not having people trying to kill me all the time. And...

Anyway I'd like alot of things but I ain't going to get them. So moving on.

What bothers me, now that my faculties are back, is that we're the bad guys in the story. And was basically always being Neutral Good or Lawful Good in those times long ago when this was mere fantasy and not horribly, horribly real. Unfortunately now on Team Chaotic Stupid where too much deviation means a dead Karguk. And despite the horrible world I like not being dead and my friends and family not being dead. Who knew orc families could be quasi-loving environments, if retarded violent. Like seriously are we trying to wipe ourselves out?

When: Midwinter.

Where: The Hut.

We had a Midwinter Feast and it was great. Then we had shaman duties Illneval turned up and gave me a headache, sorry visitation, and a peptalk – Help Clan during coming Year or Bad Things!

As Peptalk's went it was a REALLY GOOD ONE. I am now super motivated to Help the Clan get Strong in the coming year. How exactly I have not yet decided upon but I am super motivated to do it, as Vretkags not much help being a disciple of Bahgtu. Getting 'strong' evidently means we should go out and break the legs of some elves. I don't think that's going to work, or falls under my current marching orders.

In truth Raiding is likely the answer. It's my CK2 Irish strategy all over again, Raid fucking faraway places for everything that isn't nailed down, return home, repeat. And rather than killing everyone we attack we take slaves and have them farm the land – it's fertile land we live on and the valleys pretty defensible. That or we could threaten a human or other settlement and extract goods from them.

Oh Gods I'm talking about thieft, slavery and extortion as viable strategies, this place argghhhh...

Of course all these things requires trainee shaman convincing our glorious Chief Vorgarag to let me do something with actual warriors or for the village. I know Vretkag's a senile old coot but he's the actual shaman and I'm not – note to self:

Think of plan and get my mentor on boards. Also thankfully I'm sorta friends with the Chief's oldest son Zahgorim so convincing Zah might be a start.

I'm off to think now. And ask advice from not stupid orcs, like Oghash, Zah and Gin. At least their suggestions might be more that shouting "CHARRGE!!!!!" and run screaming at the nearest enemy waving an axe. Then dying - though they never mention that part of course, hence why so few old orcs.

Illneval if you can hear me! I'm super, super, motivated I assure you!

When: Winter's Ending, Snow is Melting doo-doo-doo

Where: Still the village. Though snow is melting and then freedooommmmm

Yeah being snowed in for like a week or more can make you go stir crazy being cooped up in a small stinky hut with a grumpy old dude during the day and then your equally grumpy and also stir crazy family at night. With the small distance between these huts somehow seeming like running a marathon from effort alone. Damn blizzard blew in a few days ago and now there's bloody snow drifts everywhere, the whole village is buried under one in fact. As much as even I like being the indoors bookworm the feeling of being trapped in a crappy hut along with the biting cold which seems impossible to keep away despite the heavy furs.

I WILL MAKE SURE THIS CLAN BUILDS NICE STONE BUILDINGS WITH LOVELY WARM FIRES WHEN I GET POWER!

Anyway getting away from being gods-damned freezing I'm happy to report the magic stuff we acquired are now back in my possession. Insultingly I've been told that at least I've I set myself alight again my crispy corpse will evidently help keep everyone warm for a little while.

"Fuck You Guys!" Was of course my calm and reasoned response to that little piece of 'friendly' and 'helpful' advisory.

So I have my little study items back once again, though I unfortunately have still made little progress in how to use the blasted things. Well than the scrolls, I've roughly figured out what each of them does but their unfortunately one shot items. I use'em, I lose'em. And it's not like I have access to a infinite supply of the things, same with the dozen or so potions taken at the same time. There were three dozen at first but Vretkag had uses for; honestly reasonable uses I know but they also can't be easily replaced. Our own potion making skills and capabilities are somewhat limited. Getting an alchemy set has now been added to the increasingly long list of things I want to get my grubby orc hands on.

Now unto the nitty-gritty!

I've a plan. We'll its more WE have a plan. Me, Zahgorim and Ginug meaning WE of course. Oghash advised on it too but isn't really allowed do anything. Bloody backwards cultural taboos, girls stronger and fitter than half of the males, but hey its Divine Mandate here. And Orc Divinities are fucking terrifying I'll tell you.

Well its more the start of a plan, than a true plan but it's better than nothing considering "MAKE CLAN STRONGER OR BAD THINGS" is in effect...

So there's this old fortification somewhat south of here. Yes cliché I know but this bloody planet seems built on bloody clichés at times. Any there's an old fortification south of here, you can actually see it way off in the distance – WHEN THERE ISN'T BLOODY SNOW EVERYWHERE – from the hill near the village. Now it's been abandoned for a long time evidently, but only abandoned in the sense of theirs wolves or other wild animals living up there probably.

It WAS occupied a generation ago, by a group of goblins or hobgoblins evidently before some 'brave adventurers' or 'those damned bastards' as we call them arrived and cleared them out. That of course has discouraged further reoccupations since then by the other tribes. That and our presence, well orcs in general rather than the Stormfang, as the place is difficult to access – something mostly nomadic tribes had little interest in.

So Zah spoke to his father the chief and basically laid our plan – get a small group of the younger warriors together, go scout it out, see what state it's in and is anything left, and then report back. Considering the clan is under pressure we can move the females and children up there during the late spring, summer, and then launch a few raids as more warriors will be freed up from this. Plus it'll give us a fixed position for the first time in years and maybe allow us to stop the slow slide into oblivion we appear to be on. I approach the grumpy old git Vretkag and he's largely on board. Cold weather can do that to you after all.

And well...it's a go. Well once the spring comes anyway!

In truth I think Da Chief is seeing as useful training for Zah, while also getting me out of the village away from things that are flammable. Orc Chiefs included according to Zah. Which is sorta depressing and inspiring in differing ways...

Anyway roll on the Spring!

When: Wishing it was Yesterday

Where: Ruins and Ashes

Vretkag is dead.

Zah's father the Chief is dead. Ogrash is badly injured.

My father is dead. Dozens of others are injured, dead or dying.

The village is in ruins and I'm a fool who wishes it was yesterday.

When: Spring.

Where: On a wagon.

Okay I've had time to think and calm down, and even more-so time that wasn't trying to salvage something from the wreckage of the village. Or trying to desperately staunch the bleeding from wounds caused by the wretched girl being dragged in chains behind the wagon I'm currently resting in.

I should have pity for her I suppose but she, and her now dead as doornails, companions are responsible for the worst few days of my new life and for possibly destroying the Stormfang if things go wrong in the coming season. Or if the other clans figure out our weakness before we can get to higher ground.

Our Chief is dead. Our Shaman's dead. And our encampment got wrecked in battle. We're after fleeing our encampment as we can't defend it anymore with our numbers.

I'm Shaman now, we haven't decided who's Chief yet. Doesn't really matter since we're gambling on that ruin, or caves nearby, to fort up and matters of survival. We've saved most of the food and for me the 'Holy Stuff' from the Shrine and Vretkags hut. Ogrash survived which was the only good news from the depressing mess of the past few days...

So frankly not having the rest of the clan beat her to death, or torture her slowly, was a major ask for me considering the rage I felt after what occurred. Really she...and my own remaining humanity...owe Zahgorim and Ogrash a vast debt. Even if just for the sake of my 'capture wizard plan'...as I've no old Shaman to train me.

Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it and all that horrible jazz. I've some means of influence now. I've got my captured wizard. And everything else has gone to shit...

When: Spring.

Where: Resting. Dunno, further south than yesterday?

We're making good headway, though I'm barely able to hold the quill from the effort. So I'm pretty hopeful the other clans won't notice what's occurred for many weeks and we're well away. And our destination isn't a dungeon death trap. And our supplies hold out.

GIRL is still alive. Sorry, that human newbie adventurer wizard bitch we've dragged along with us on our headlong flight. She now is a temporary pack mule for our stuff to make her have some use. That nagging voice at the back of my head has made me take efforts so she might actually survive this relocation.

Cruel mercy perhaps as that involved branding Illneval's symbol on her as the shaman's property, but it was that or see her casually beaten to death by the others. What's truly a crushing weight on my soul is the same urge to get revenge, justice? who knows, on GIRL. Though really it was that Cleric cow that killed nearly everyone in their surprise attack...Well Bitch -TELL TEMPUS ILLNEVAL SAYS HELLO- when you drag your burnt-ass corpse before him!

Even if she was terrible adventurer a part of me keeps repeating in my head.

What kinda bloody 1st Level Wizard goes on a quest with Magic Missile and Identify as their only two memorized spells?

Bloody stupid. Stupid adventurers. Stupid Me. Stupid World. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid...

Make it stop.

When: Spring, still not sure of the year exactly

Where: At the entrance of a ruined fort

And we're finally here at our prospective new home, or death-trap, opinion dependent.

Zah and several of the others wanted to just charge in axes swinging but I persuaded them that...NO that's not the best idea with an abandoned fort that seems empty. There could be anything in there after all and we are not exactly an unstoppable army right now.

Honestly my personal fear is Undead, or some derivation there off. Mainly because we'd be screwed up against in my mind considering our "Smash things till they die" strategy might be less than effective against anything beyond the lowest level ones. We've no magical weapons, little magic beyond my low level crappy shamanistic clerical ones and the two surviving scrolls; Lightening Bolt and Fireball, which I'm afraid will just as likely blow me, as the enemy, up if I attempt to use them.

Anyway writing helps me think so the plan is this, theirs two entrances into the ruins; the old gate itself and a portion where the wall appears to have fallen on the eastern side and a small ramp up and into the...courtyard I guess...was created. So as a clan we decided to scout out both entrances and see what can be seen inside and wait just beyond . If we get the all clear my plan is to enter and setup a position around the gate structure itself and western tower which looks mostly intact. That should give us good coverage over the ruins if something is in the inner most ruins. The females can shoot arrows or throw rocks down on any enemy in support I'm hoping...

It's not a good plan but not many options as day is rapidly ending and I don't like sitting out here exposed on a hill with wagons full of females, inured and children.

When: Early spring

Where: Western Tower, Old Ruins

Success!

At least for now anyway as we've secured the ruins...well sorta...

Occupying the walls, courtyard and such proved remarkably easy and rewarding even. Place had been settled a number of cave bears, the ruined eastern tower in fact, and they were objectionable to our presence. This was fine because their Den was inside the ruined tower. With only one way in or out from the collapse, and we figured this out (and the fact Bears lived there) so we had traps set before, setting fires, smoked them out...right into our waiting spears.

Meats back on the Menu Boys!

When: A day since my last entry

Where: Western Tower. This floor is Mine all Mine!

Ah it's good to have a full belly again, also cooked haunch of Cave Bear is bloody delicious let me tell you.

And also very much having a roof over my head, its pouring rain outside and the wind is making this ominous whistling noise as it goes through the ruins. Yeah that's a little annoying and hopefully not a warning or some other cliché bullshit. We've thoroughly investigated the ruins...upper floor at least.

Cuz yeah, of course, there's a lower level...or levels possibly, underneath this place. I do wonder is there some sort of unspoken building regulation on Faerun that ensures every old ruin has its mandatory dungeon level to act as adventurer bait. Which of course means our shiny new home could be at best a magnet in the coming years for more idiots like GIRL...

...Yeah really need to learn her name. It's really stupid calling someone older than me GIRL as with the rest of the clan...

Anyway at best it's an adventurer magnet in the long run, and knowing this world it could in the worst case have us camping atop some possible world ending horror. So yeah this place is making me paranoid even though the rest of the clan are in happy mode after also getting full bellys and warm fires again. *Yes we orcs are easily amused*

But for now this place is our stronghold and with the choke-points between the upward climb, at the gate and wrecked wall, our numbers disadvantage against an attacker isn't near what it was out in the open valley below. Which is also a great plus as this place offers a lovely panoramic view of said valley below, well it would if the rain would stop.

AND WE ARE TOTALLY NOT COWERING BEHIND WALLS IN A DREADFULLY UN-ORCISH FASHION.

Not at all! This is our newly seized stronghold. Taken by force of arms even!

As such we are merely using the natural terrain as part of a strategy to defeat our enemies when they come against us. Illneval HIMSELF supports the usage of traps, tactics and temporary barricades on the battlefield!

In other good news!

Ogrash is walking now with only a minor limp!

And nobody died to kill the bears, or among any of the injured since we arrived which is a positive.

When: I need to find out the year. Really I do, anyway early spring

Where: My new home Fort still to be named

Okay getting taught magic by my prisoner will be less easy than I'd originally planned. Okay first things first.

Her name is Missasri Bladecutter, or Missy for short right now to us orcs.

Thing is our Common Tongue...is Hulk Speak at best right now. And Missy here doesn't speak orcish beyond curse words from what everyone in the clan has been calling her since the attack. That plus the fact the young human wizard girl is a complete and utter wreck right now. Something that really should have been obvious but I was somewhat angry at her at the first, followed by the days of getting to here, and then...

Yeah you get it, I was distracted and was focused on other things that concerned me and the clan not dying.

So basically Missy here was, is, in a pretty pitiful state. Which makes sense since her friends, and mentor person maybe, were all rather brutally killed before her eyes by some savage orcs. Who then proceeded to nearly beat her to death, brand her painfully before then dragging her in chains for days across rough countryside into some old ruins probably thinking to be made dinner or some sacrifice to our evil gods. That and a regular diet of sweet fuck all meant my prospective magic teacher, current slave, and most hated person in the encampment had to looked at before she got a bad and permanent case of the being dead.

Firstly she stank, and I say that growing up in an orc village, and the tattered remains of her robes filled with bugs (and also totally rank) so I had Ogrash and two of her friends get her cleaned off. Not a pleasant experience for anyone involved been honest, our prisoner reacting in manic terror when she made a guess at what the orcs were coming to do. For a few minutes she became like some Gods damned berserker banshee, not a newbie wizard, at least till Ogrash's friends got her under control – lucky we did get that filth off as she'd several bad cuts that were starting to get infected and could have been fatal in a bit, even without her been basically taut skin on bones.

So after we calmed her down I treated and bandaged the wounds as best I could and actually had her fed properly for the first time since her capture. Hey Bear stew is still on the menu!

Still communication isn't the easiest even if she's calmed down and accepted we don't plan to many, many terrible things to her at this moment. I've had her chained up on my floor will some warm clean furs for bedding and put Ogrash in joint charge of her with me...

Or more accurately Ogrash put herself in charge after swearing to me she won't kill or serious injury our prisoner. We can work on learning the Common Tongue (and Orcish to our guest) in coming weeks and I don't have to worry about anyone 'accidentally' abusing the prisoner to death now that things are starting to settle down. Zah agreed, after he stopped laughing at the story and the large bruise the crazy human girl had left on my face with her rather acrobatic, and completely unexpected, falcon kick to my lovely orcish face.

Anyway we've settled in, barricaded the entrance to the lower levels of the keep and now we start the task of getting something resembling order in the clan established. Something the Shaman (ya know ME) is expected to be a big part of even I'm like a bloody teenager. Bloody Joy...

When: The Morning after a Bad, Bad Day

Where: My Floor of the Western Tower

Okay today's meeting of the clan could have gone better. Oh fuck could it have gone better.

Well seems that saving that ungrateful fucking idiot Igmut's life post attack was once again proof that no good deed goes unpunished in Faerun. Because the thick demented moron has decided he wants to make himself Chief. This would be bad enough because the one eyed jackass would have the whole clan starving to death by the end of the year, or taken out by...I dunno...killer rabbits or leprechauns, after a berserker charge off a cliff or something. The problem, especially for ME personally, was that Igmut is the Chaotic Stupid in the Chaotic Evil subset. The fucking idiot wanted;

a] Me Dead or Exiled. Mostly because he's a petty sonabitch over the fact I blinded him when he tried to break my arm few seasons back, and he was in pain when I healed him. Well boo-hoo baby sorry for the owies when I was stopping you bleeding to death.

b] Several of my friends dead exiled or worse. Most notably Zah as Zahgorim is a big brawling orc who is also popular, as well as being the now heroically dead former chief's son. Oh and he wants to take Ogrash as one of his (evidently many) planned new mates because he's God's gift to orc kind.

And the funny thing is, cementing the chaotic stupid in my mind, the silly bastard and his gaggled of twits largely announced this in front of the whole assembled clan. With the this hilariously smug expression on his ugly face like us fleeing in fear of him was the most logical thing in the world...

Because him and a dozen other of the dumbest members of the clan does not equate to the whole clan liking this line of thinking of chucking out the guys that kept us alive till now is the best idea in the world. Or that loudly announcing your 'marriage proposals' as you proclaimed you 'divine one eyed mandate' (*no he sounded alot dumber than that – Igmut no have big words! Big words for elfs and sissy shamans!'*) and expect someone not to object. Orc society is stupidly patriarchcal at times I agree but this nonsense really wasn't going to fly when aren't Super-orc!, warlord and charmer extraordinaire. And Super-orc Igmut is not.

So the whole selection became a farce over the course of the evening, with lots of shouting, shouting leading to angry shouting (*orc shouting comes in many forms in discussions!*) and then angry shouting leading to punch-up's and a general brawl as people took sides. And then we had a nice little battle right in the middle of our newly acquired home as we tried to kill each other.

'That escalated quickly' does not do justice to the level of idiocy that occurred. Anyway since I'm writing this obviously I survived, we won...at least in the strictest sense of the word. Iggy boy is dead, as is the dozen rejects who supported him axes in hand. As is...as is...my friend Ginug and a half dozen others from the resulting melee. Everyday just seems...

Pa. Gin. Vretkag. The Chief. A dozen others I saw every day. Gone...just like that. And I don't even have time to dwell, only these few minutes to order my thoughts before the sweet oblivion of sleep. We are the 'victors' of this little outbreak of Madness and this has further reduced our already crippled strength. Those dead, and those mostly injured today?

Nearly all full grown warriors of course, the older ones at that, so we now have a major problem coming than even my currently tired and distracted brain can see. Over a hundred orcs are in this lovely little fortification and the vast majority of them after today are females, children, a few grizzled elders and the fighting strength of the clan...who are barely of true fighting age youngsters like me.

And right now I'm the Tribal Shaman. Zah's now the Clan Chief. And I've over a dozen corpses to have buried or burned, and injured to treat when I wake up. About the only amusing thing that crosses my mind is that the human prisoner slept through the whole thing through sheer exhaustion most likely. You are not the best adventurer if you can somehow miss two groups killing each other just outside your bedroom of sorts. Anyway that concludes that for this entry.

When: Another Wet Spring Day

Where: What we're now calling the Shaman's Tower part of the ruins

It's taken a few days but we've finally managed to get things somewhat settled down, the bodies of the dead have been burned, the injured have been treated as best we can and we've got all our supplies stored away at long last. We even got a scouting and hunting party out last night to both patrol the nearby area and to look for game animals and general forage.

Mainly as while we've used the remaining salt pile to preserve the bear meat the fact is we're all getting pretty sick of it being on the menu and I think we need some fresh fruit and certain herbs to help with the injured. That and having something to do might help with the rather depressingly oppressive feeling that's haunting the clan after our series of reversals.

So we, by whom I mean me, Chief Zahgorim and the elder females under my Ma, have been taking stock of our supply situation and who can do what. The Good News is that we have enough remaining supplies to last us till late summer most likely as it stands, and there is a well in the ruined eastern tower, a well that still works evidently. And nobody got sick or died from it among the volunteers, though I still ordered it boiled, we certainly have enough firewood from all the tress around the slope. And cutting them down will make attacking us harder in the long term while also shoring up the ruins and having proper housing.

Everyone thinking I'm 'touched by the Gods', ie they think I'm crazy...but in a useful way to the clan, means they look at me strangely at first then shrug and go "Shaman magics" and do as asked. It helped swing Zah as Chief even if he's young, getting things a little less disorganized and in keeping little Missy human alive.

Actually speaking of little Missy human I've finally started trying to improve my Common from "Karguk Speak Human Words!" to something capable of having a discussion of magic and various other things. Miscasting a spell through bad dictation, or invoking a ritual with the wrong world can be fatal here after all. But we have gotten the girl to the a relatively calm state enough to try engage in a little conversation today and did manage to get some interesting little details.

She's from Neverwinter it seems, and from a wealthish background as best I can tell, and were on quest (of course!) when they attacked us. The whole party itself was really equipped actually I realised after the grunting conversation and considering what we captured, not much magical stuff but everything was really well made and ornate from the plate armour to the swords. Depressingly enough as best I can tell our village was attacked by the equivalent of young Faerunian rich kids under an experienced adventurer (the Cleric) on a sort of paid hunting trip that got out of hand after some sort of teleportation magic.

That...pisses me off greatly. We've endured, I'VE ENDURED, a nightmare because some rich kids were bloody bored and wanted some excitement?

GOD DAMN THEM!

Well the bored rich girl will not be enjoying fine silks, expensive wines and feathered beds for quite some time I can most certainly assure you. Once she's a little healthier then Ogrash and the other females will exercise her and put her to work when not improving our language skills and then my magic lessons. She'll get to enjoy all the joys of living in the wilderness first hand. We are too hard pressed right now to do otherwise. Anyway it confirms that we're somewhere far east of Neverwinter and the Sword Coast in general as best as the captured maps indicate. No real civilization beyond small towns for many miles as I'd always figured.

When: Found out its sometime close to the very late 1340's and early 1350's. Calendars in this place are weird. But we're definitely past, 'The Year of the Bright Blade'. So it's about as I figure, less than a decade or so till Gods walk the earth and everyone has a really bad year.

Where: The uppermost battlements of the Tower enjoying the stars and writing (thank you Darkvision!)

Funny how beautiful the night sky can be on this crappy little world?

Bit chilly up here I'll admit but the view is certainly worth it I think, and it's certainly quieter than the lower levels of the tower. One of the amusing things I never really got used to – we're somewhat nocturnal creatures (hoh-boy is a bright sunny day ever a discomfort) which can explain civilized criticism of 'lazy orcs' I'd expect.

You too would sleep in well past dawn when you, and everyone else around you incidentally, tend to a night person and up to all hours. There's nothing wrong with the odd little siesta' during the horribly bright hours of day. Nothing at all I tell you!

That and I need the peace and serenity, as I always do in the aftermath meeting with the boss orc himself and feeling a mixture of terrified, confused and angry at a divinity. I do wonder is this how other Faerurnian Clerics feel when dealing with their divinities.

Like really priests back on Earth are lucky really, you may THINK you want him/her/them to talk to you personally...yeah but no YOU REALLY DON'T because some sometimes they just fuck with you for shits and giggles. Like now for instance.

Because when I got the whole "Help the Clan or Bad Things" it more meant "Help the Clan Survive or Die, Which would be a Bad Thing for you personally. Oh and this is all part of my totally legit Quest to see if your worthy! Did I tell you that? No? Oh and I forgot to tell you about the coming attack too! Oh sorry puny mortal but am I supposed to hold your hand? You're an Orc now, toughen the fuck up!"

So this horrible little escapade can be considered a 'Test' for the clan and its shaman. And of course I told the clan that we had been tested by the Gods (because was told I had to by Boss man) and that by our actions had pleased them greatly. But rather than going "Our Gods are assholes for putting us through all this" we ended conducting a small religious ceremony slash party early on to celebrate our not being dead and this 'favored status' bestowed upon us. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane one here. And then in true rpg illogic I levelled up.

Okay, Okay, it wasn't quite like that. But strictly speaking I'm a cleric of Illneval and have now been granted greater access to his divine powers, which means more spells and abilities...so in practical terms I've 'levelled up' to something like 3rd or 4th level in vague terms from what I remember based on said new powers. Zah is delighted as this ensures his Cheiftainhood is divinely blessed and Ma could have died from pride. Ogrash was happy of course, but happier for the other reasons. The face on the Missy's face when she heard (and understood) this was priceless – it was like she'd sucked on the vilest lemon ever tasted. Other rewards were offered but the choice of another shaman, well cleric really, for the clan was my desire over other more direct rewards for me – Ogrash is now a Cleric of Luthic the Hearth Mother.

Why?

Because we need healers right now to stop anymore of the clan dying and a Cleric of Luthic would sidestep any issues of challenging me. Both through Ogrash being a close friend and the fact a Cleric of Luthic is subordinate outside of matters of the hearth and fertility. It also gives the females something of a focal point to organise around, which is vital as they outnumber us males about 2 or 3 to 1, and perhaps get a healing group formed from the smarter of the younger girls.

Because we're sitting atop an old ruin with dungeon levels and a God pushing along his own private Quest-line which hints at bad things being down there. More importantly with me, and others in the clan, having to go down there and get at them for the shiny, shiny loot. And gifts given by Illneval is not exactly known for giving 'rewards' for past victories but as powers towards future ones. This of course leads me to believe that the adventurers who supposedly cleared this dungeon didn't do a good job of it.

Because we need to secure ourselves for the coming year and the clan needs to make use of females to the very utmost limits allowed by our rather backward society. Even getting divine sanction for our 'auxiliary archers' idea only flies because its loophole lawyering and amuses Illneval (and evidently Luthic and Shargass he says) as bows are not a warriors weapon. The Bow is the Weapon of Elves and Females I explained!

We now have effectively doubled our defensive fighting force by breaking that rather stupid patriarchal restriction on 'women no get warrior weapons' even if they'll be shit archers for a while. That and it paves over our occasional breaking of said strictures in the past with stronger females like Ogrash and makes it as formally A-okay religious wise. In a crisis (as we're in) divine support been honest is pretty essential nearly everyone in the clan feels.

If anything being the clan shaman/cleric feels like being middle-man between the two groups, or middle management in a company.

Your worshipers want this!

Your God demands that!

Then trying to walk the tightrope between them and during my recent (of far too many) religious-experience/interrogation/job-scorecarding/bargaining-session...

Well I may have said a few things. Or accidentally suggested things when trying to justify, with relevant examples from earth history, my survival plans for the Stormfang and our shiny new ruined stronghold. Things like the ancient Greek city states, the fall of the Roman Empire, the Crusades and few other hastily cobbled together anecdotes that may or may not be a 100% historically accurate.

In my defence I needed to justify arming the majority of the clan as archers for a defensive force (for the Hearth and Children of course!) and for trying to discuss the possibility of farming in the future. That if having some actual industry was allowed (blacksmiths are a go! Woohoo!!!) and making sure that creating military formations beyond 'charge', 'charge some more' and 'argghhh berserker!!!' are kosher. Breaking too many divine mandates would get me deader sooner than failing to be match human or elven armies for civilization. Basically whether making my tribe 'Lawful Evil' was acceptable...

And well at least our settlement/stronghold has a name!

By Divine mandate even!

So long live the Orc Stronghold SPARTA! (I am so, so, so, screwed and should learn to keep my trap shut)

When: A lovely early spring night

Where: Shaman's Tower, Sparta

Okay we've got a Shrine setup on the bottom rung of what is now quasi-official 'the Shaman's Tower' of our new stronghold. To all the Orc Gods of course, and I'm installed on the second level, which is relatively intact, with Ogrash setting herself up on the first level below me and above the shrine. We've begun clearing the rubble and using it, and wooden beams as their cut down, to help shore any holes.

Though honestly whoever built this place did a damn good job, or used magic, as it seems almost made of solid lumps of stonework's – the Tower itself almost seems like some dug into a solid lump of stone, created two levels from it, and then built atop of that. These towers are solidly built...makes me wonder what brought the Eastern Tower to its collapsed state and general state of disrepair here.

Anyway we've tons of space on the surface for our numbers with only a little work, and myself and Zah as Chief have figured to get the place liveable first before trying any little expeditions. Really raids are out for this year I think, and he...mostly...agreed, as we don't have numbers to both raid and defend ourselves. Or even to raid effectively. Instead we have a water supply and more than enough game and other foods in the region according to the hunting group to get us through the year with some effort.

Establishing a larder and storeroom then, and easily defensible ones at that, has as such been a primary goal as well as searching the upper ruins for anything of use. So far...nothing really, rotted barrels, rusted equipment and of course the pile of bones, and broken stuff, left behind by the cave bears corpse/waste pile. We did find a bit of salt in the southern tower second level...but not anything to party over. If anything SALT is more valuable than gold to me right now as gold won't preserve food to get us through the winter, and it's not as if any merchants selling stuff to us like in an RPG!

Renovating this place to a minimum level of usefulness with our sparse tools will take weeks we reckon, though been blessed with orcish strength IS a huge boon I'll be honest when it comes to physical labour. So we're going to do it in phases: larder and storeroom first, then an armoury before moving unto more individual housing and the such that just makes the place feel like a town and not scavengers hiding away. That and I want to put the clan to work so as to keep the orcs focused on a goals – word to the wise: you don't want bored depressed orcs lurking around a camp.

So far less time for my scholarly studies than I'd like but at least we have the chance to establish a routine once again, now that things are settling down after all the chaos since Midwinter. It's only been a few days since 'the visitation' and I'm already sort of falling into one truth be told;

Somewhat after Dawn I rise, as does Ogrash, Zah and Ogrash's two friends/acolytes/future-nurses Ursha and Muir, get up and practice our Common Tongue with Missy, while getting as much information as possible from her. Which isn't much been honest as it's very apparent the girl was a follower and not the leader of the group, nor even the backup leader, so alot of its family stuff of hers we don't care much about, Still with practice I'm convinced in a few weeks our language skills will have improved enough to move unto start on the spell-books secured in my room.

This is followed roughly by Ogrash and her two friends taking the prisoner out for some brief exercise, or what they smarmily refer to as 'walking the doggie', and otherwise getting the short human girl into some sort of shape. While I'm forced to endure a round of training (and been beaten up) by Zah and the elder Taugh, our oldest surviving veteran raider, and now orc in charge of whipping us whippersnappers into shape. I do not like being whipped into shape, though thank Illneval there is no actual whip involved.

We eat then, generally have our little siesta, and then rotate a patrol on the walls to watch out for raids amongst ourselves or take shifts at moving rubble and cutting down trees. Doesn't matter that I'm some religious muckity-muck we're all the same here, orcish democracy in action I suppose. Tiring as all hell but it simply has to be done. Ogrash and the females largely setting up the larder at the moment, of which Missy-human is 'helping' with when she's not chained up in the Tower.

And then of course it's late evening or night time, like now, before I even get to sit down and fiddle at a few potions and try and expand my knowledge. Or just organise my thoughts with these entries as the 'dungeoneering' that needs to be done beyond the currently barracked entrance to the lower floors. Really we need to at least explore what's down there but I'm also very well aware of the risks – there may be magical loot left down there that could be capable of helping the clan out. Or there could be a Beholder or Lich or a dozen other things that would blow our little expedition out of the water and shatter an already crippled clan. It's risk and reward, with no idea of the level of risk or the possible rewards.

But then again sitting up here doing nothing isn't exactly a viable strategy in the long run – some over-eager orc WILL decide to head down at some stage. I can almost guarantee it. So the clock will start ticking in a season or two, Winter (assuming we last that long) being the likely point someone goes "I AINT AFRAID NO GHOST!" and opens those doors and that barricade and charges into the abyss screaming challenges. Orcs; what you expect. So we need to head that off and have some sort of plan to do go about this in the near future...

For the moment getting my 'Level 1' Wizard powers is a useful goal, as we're desperately short in that department, before attempting anything as risky. So I've been sketching a rough 'timeline', or 'deadlines to achieve' in the following order;

- Get Stronghold turned into an actual stronghold, at least here on the surface levels, so that we're ready for raids we're likely to start seeing in a few weeks, or months. That means clearing all the rubble to more convenient rubble piles and the exhausting work of cutting down trees.

- Get My, our, Common Tongue, up to civilized levels and finally learn how to memorise those pesky spells in captured spell books. I've two of the damn things now after all!

- Cast my first arcane spell without setting myself, the stronghold, or someone else, on fire. Anyway at low levels you want support sleeps not offensive ones. That's what we've got orc's with axes and maces for.

- Organise a 'strike team' of the better trained amongst us to be able to beat off any raids, and likely delve into the maybe empty/maybe death-trap dungeon below us. This is more Zah's area of expertise so we need to train up...well my generation...way quicker than normal.

- More normally ensue we've enough food being brought in that we not only get by day to day, but that we also can last through a severe winter. I know it's only spring...but no point surviving a year of raids and dungeon exploring to end up dying of starvation or frost bite now is there?

And oh what I wouldn't give for a wandering trader right now with convenient junk and other things!

Trashcan Carla where arth thou?

[Zahgorim: 01]

Orc Stronghold of Sparta

He watched as the two groups of warriors battered away eat each others, fighting in teams as they practiced this 'shield wall' Karguk was insisting on. He himself as the chief had been in the melee most of the morning with his own personal squad up against his friend's group as Taugh roared abuse at everyone in general for failing to live up to his expectations. Still they were getting better as warriors with each passing day, and Karguk was as happy about how this 'formation' training was going as well.

"Well anything broken or need fixing Zah, sorry Chief Zah, from amongst this lot?" the voice of Ogrash came from behind him and he turned his head at her approach. The newly appointed Priestess of Luthic wore her usual garb of leathers and wolf fur still; there had been no time as yet to even prepare a crude version of the Cave Mother's garb for her.

Zahgorim snorted in amusement "Nah, nothing broken just some bruises and small cuts, let them stay. Teach'em not to let their guard down or disobey orders, pain gett'em thinkin' right, certainly did with me. Kar says somthing about responses or something some orc named Pavlov figured out, or somethin' like that..." he replied standing up from the rock he'd been sitting on as she stopped beside him glancing at warriors "...you just want to be in there fightin' with the rest of us, don't ya?"

"Heh I'd kick yer sissy asses if I did and wouldn't that cause all remaining warriors to die in shame!..." she snarked back in disdain. He'd laugh but Ogrash while having quite a feminine body had the mind of a warrior and the muscles beneath that form to back it up, she probably could trash most of their remaining warriors right now "...and that would not do in the eyes of the Cave Mother now would it?"

"No, probably not I suppose. Though never thought to see you as a Priestess..." he replied then holding his hands up in a 'sorry, sorry' gesture at her harsh glare "...well you're not exactly the model of orc femin..."

"STOP. TALKING. NOW." she ground out just like she'd done their entire childhood when he was being and idiot and letting his mouth run ahead of his brain. So he very wisely did just that as he learned was for the best in the past as she nodded and continued in a more amused tone "Well I am now, as much as for the clan's sake as for the new job. Also I'm getting a mate this year, has to be done, so in the coming seasons or the winter assuming we survive. So are you by the way, your Chief now, you have to set an example Zah"

"Not to me you aren't Oggy!" he blurted out as horror welled up inside him. Sure Ogrash was pretty enough, but that domineering trait of hers was the antithesis of true orc femininity. She threatened him often enough when they were younger with that knife of hers if he ever...he needed those parts to have little future chiefs! He still had nightmares about her even if he never, ever, told anyone. Her glare at him could break stone.

"How the fuck are you Chief again you damned idiot?"

"Doing what you and Karguk tell me, and being the toughest orc fighter around" he answered with a sage nod of his Chiefly brow. The strategy had gotten to being Chief after all!

Ogrash sighed "Yeah so keep listening then if you want to stay Chief, also your not as tough as you think you are. And NO it's not you fool, it's Karguk who'll be choosing me"

"He hasn't...mentioned this to me..." Zahgorim asked cautiously as they began to walk towards the tower which was where the named Orc likely was. After all the three of them were quite close and while Karguk was...odd...he was a loyal lieutenant and friend to him as they'd grown up. And while he was crazy their clan shaman was also just as wary of their friend as a female as Zahgorim was "...and I think he would, ya know, before deciding"

"That's because he doesn't know yet you idiot chief" she answered simply as they walked, then she paused glancing around to be sure only he heard "I'm serious Zah we need to settle the clan down and begin...well...replenishing our numbers..." she looked uncomfortable a moment "...the Cave Mother is giving signs let's say in dreams. I need a mate. I like Karg, I trust Karg, and Karg likes strong females. Problem solved"

"That's because Karguk is crazy. Not crazy-crazy, good-crazy I mean but still crazy..." he snorted back with a smile then grinned "...just let me be there when you inform him of this, can't wait to see his face. Well assuming we get him away from all his tomes, and work, and potions..."

Karguk was always busy of late, though they all were after the disasters of the past few weeks, but their friend had always seemed fixed on some undefined future goal given to him by the Gods themselves. That mixed with the huge honour of receiving blessings and visitations had given him a drive in the past few weeks...that went hand in hand with him trying to find solutions to every problem that arose in the clan. He'd even come up with the idea of dividing the remaining warriors of the clan into four 'squads' of ten and drilled with them every day, before retreating to his tower for hours to study boring things. Zahgorim was just glad he wasn't shaman and didn't have to learn such boring things after all.

Ogrash snorted "Yeah, though after becoming priestess I understand a little, sorry if I prefer a male who respects me. But yeah you're right about this all out motivation of his since the attack; you know how he is when he gets fixed on a goal. And surviving these next few seasons will be hard"

Indeed it would Zahgorim agreed with a nod. While other clans in this valley might not know of their weakness quite yet, they would eventually and one of them would test them. Them or the other creatures of the area now that Father and so many warriors were dead. But the Stormfang were strong, they would recover as Illneval himself had recovered in many battles in many wars before, and would come back stronger than ever. As Karguk said this was all a test if they were worthy and that one day the Gods themselves would walk amongst them. Even if he grumbled and moaned about...but then again he grumbled and moaned about pretty much everything Zahgorim found since Karguk was a whelp like him.

The tower itself was looking much cleaner as they entered and went up the stairways, Zahgorim enjoying being out of the wretched sunlight. Yes it was best he agreed to train through the pain like any true orc but it didn't mean he had to like the damn thing. For the first week it like having your eyes go all blurry and dazzlely just like it had gone the humans had attacked. When he and Karguk had talked about this none had of the rest of the clan in the stronghold had disagreed with the training – never again would the Stormfang be caught unaware!

As they came to the second floor, and into the main room of that floor , the figures of their friend Karguk and the human slave who had survived from the attackers came into view. Karguk sitting on a large block of wood he was using as a chair with his tomes and other strange things surrounding him, and the slave on her knees before him talking in the human tongue and motioning at a tome on the floor before her.

Like all humans she was a short little thing, but she had dangerous powers Karguk said he need to both learn and tame. Even if the human was more fragile than an orc the extra pair of hands of the slave was still useful. They would need many slaves in the days to come he knew and Karguk had hesitantly agreed with. At the sounds of their entrance she glanced around and immediately afterwards planted her head and hands before her with a fearful "Masters!" as she grovelled. Karguk gave a smile and tired wave as they entered.

"Hey guys, that time of the day already?"

"Yes Karguk, practice saying...speaking the common tongue like humans with you and planning. And how goes it with...magic learns...learning's magic" Ogrash replied carefully in the human tongue as they sat down in a triad around their friend and clan shaman. They were the trio that were in charge of the clan now after all and these daily talks were needed to see what needed to be done. In the middle of them the human slave with her collar remained grovelling nervously as always.

"It goes well I think but time is always issue" Karguk replied in common as well with a sigh then glanced at them both "and how goes the training since I left? Any progress? And with the..."

When: Mid-Spring, Year of the Crown

Where: Sparta under the Stars, in the Savage Frontier or Unclaimed Lands.

As you can tell my dear reader I've figured out when we are after a few conversations with Missy, referencing the journals of her deceased clerical companion, and then of course with my now quite tattered Holy Tomes. Or random D manuals for those in the know: ie. me and my Boss basically as nobody else can bloody read them.

So little Missy, or then Missasri Bladecutter & Co, set out in what was the Year of the Morningstar or 1350 Dale Reckoning it mentions alternatively, so from looking up the references in the manuals that puts it at the Year of the Crown now. Which says about seven odd years till the shit really hits the fan, assuming I, and the clan, survive that long that is.

I've also gotten a rough bead on where we are and where we travelled from. I'm pretty sure our clan came out of the Sword Mountains before my birth and then started shifting north-eastward, so from the maps and such I think we're somewhere in the (large) triangle between the The Crags, Sword Mountains and Lurkwood. This would explain the odd trade caravan that we used to ambush coming through this dodgy territory, and the presence of 'barbarian' human groups that the older crones spoke of. Though right now the dangers of the cities to the west, and Silverymoon far to the north isn't really a major concern. That would be the forces of the other orc clans and other non-orcs lurking around the valley we've set up shop in.

In preparation for that threat we've been fairly relentlessly drilling every one of us remaining males capable of holding a weapon in both using the things, and more importantly from my view in formations. And then moving in said formations with something resembling teamwork; with orcs this is somewhat harder than it sounds. But regardless after a headcount we've got forty-seven orcs that can be counted as warriors, though that standard varies from elderly Taugh through to those just out of childhood. Well orc childhood, as most of us are near full sized by 11-14, I'm like six foot something after all and about ten or eleven years old as best can figure. Missy is twenty odd years old evidently and only just five foot nothing, she's like, chest height for nearly everyone else here.

Anyway back to the training.

As I was saying we've got effectively forty-seven orc warriors, which we've broken into four effective squads of just under ten, much like a Roman Legionary contubernium, except with eight or nine 'orcs' and an 'officer' in charge. Which is currently myself, Zah, Taurg and another veteran raider Cardac, Cardac and Zah commanding the two main squads for hunting and pining any attacker, myself then over the 'mobile' squad which is the better equipped, and the Taurg over the 'reserve' group made up of the younger and eldest warriors. Then there is one last group of warriors; eight of the youngest males we've assigned to the Church of Luthic as Guardians of the Den, a last resort for the least well trained youngsters.

In truth I've been drilling shield-wall, but it's more Vikings right now the Spartan Hoplites, which is fine considering we had NO tactics till that point. We're not exactly short of armour and weapons bizarrely enough, we've just not the warriors to wield them!

So for the moment most of us have mishmash armour of plate, chainmail, thick leathers and such, along with large shields. As a priest of Illneval my armour kinda has to be the chainmail and the helmet, that and the obligatory long-sword; which with orc sizes might as well be a short sword. Mostly we've gotten the tactic of moving with shields down, then lifting them and stabbing from underneath then bringing the shield back, or stabbing over the shields as a solid wall presses the enemy.

For orcs this is very unorthodox, but I gave "the strongest walls are not made of stone, but of brave orcs!" speech and then showed them the single branch and then many in a pile (ah movies! I miss you, and I at least remember our orcish strength!) together. With our people you just need to know the right motivation at times it seems.

The females archers have formed roughly five groups of similar size, just about half of them in fact nearly all the younger ones like Ogrash, and we've started up general archery lessons for them. Most of them can't anything at other than point blank range, but it's still better than nothing and a few are actually quite skilled considering. Look they'll be placed up on the walls, that we're busy connecting with wooden scaffolds and bridges, and just pelt down arrows on any attackers. Other than that I've had Ogrash setup a 'field hospital' team of sorts with herself and about six others. Hopefully they'll keep any injured alive long enough to be properly healed, because we can't really afford to absorb any more casualties in the coming months.

Also I'm wondering have I offended Ogrash in some way lately?

Because she's taken to staring at me pretty intensely at random times these past few days. Pretty sure I haven't but never be too sure. And I'd rather she didn't decide to punish me in some painful Ogrash manner.

Well I digress, my lessons with Missy the slave continue a pace and mine, and the others, Common, is growing by leaps in bounds considering the short time span. Back on Earth this would have been unlikely as I was dreadful at French after years of it, so I'm guessing it's something peculiar to Faerun or to the orc species in general. But this has at least allowed me to move unto the spell books, both Missasri's and the one captured months ago in a raid evidently owned by a fellow by the name of Fodel Agosto, and properly start studying them. So far I've only managed to make a few spells 'fizzle' so to speak but I can actually...hmmm...

It's hard to describe really...

...feel...is probably the best word the build up prior to unleashing the magic. I've had Missy cast a few spells under my control (always count what's memorised vs what's cast!) and I can feel similar. Going through it with her in depth about my problem is a combination of 'flow' and speeding up the cadence of the casting so to speak. Words and gestures are important evidently.

Now as to Missy herself, well I'm somewhat torn on her situation. Yes she brought this upon herself by attacking us, yes I need a magic teacher, and yes oddly enough the angry part of my faded human side rages at her harming me and mine...

Still it's hard to see a pretty straightforward and honest woman like her reduced to the status of slave to savage orcs without feeling pity or compassion. Even if I try and keep any mistreatment to punishments alone, well for Faeerun at least, everybody appears to a cruel bastard to someone on this plane.

Or the giant ball of horror and loathing at the back of my mind that my clan will be inflicting this fate and worse on many, many, many others if we're successful. Those farms, mills and other things needed to build a foundation for Spartan Orcs had to be fueled on the back of slaves. All I can pray, to Illneval of all people, is to keep the cruelty to as little as possible. Hell I'm trying to sell it on efficiency alone and there are other less brutal methods. Faint chances of that though I guess.

Still bizarrely enough the enslaved mage, while still afraid, seems too much prefer staying in my presence if at all possible. I know it's not my glorious orcish looks, nor my overwhelming charisma, so I'm it's the fact I don't do more than ask about her favorite subjects and don't demand (for her) backbreaking labour. It's quite hard having an Earth 21st century human soul merged into an orcish one on faerun, two halves shouting different things in tandem. But I have to be careful as well as this adventurer would, and already tried with friends, to kill me and my kin without mercy...

For now that's a decision to worry about in the future that may never come. My current focus is on the lower levels to this place. Zah and Ogrash want to have a look, at least a quick scouting expedition and see is it just one level or many. I can understand the urge, I'm feeling it too, as there could be vital supplies and such down there, or we're just worried about shadows. Still I'm concerned about our lack of magic for an adventuring part and us heading down too soon – but if Ogrash and Zahgorim are getting antsy already about it...

So need to think this through, I can be the team Cleric if we head down of course, slash fighter with Illneval's martial feats. Take my squad and sweep in a little bit, explore and if there's anything problematic pull back out and barricade or get support if needed. I'd really like to support spells, even sleep or that sort of thing but the only magic user is the slave. So yeah alot to think on...

Ughh. Time for some sleep I think, that might help.

When: Still Spring even if it snowed, Year of the Crown

Where: Looking down at the Keep entrance from the top of the Tower

Having thought about it I've decided that, yes, it's time to at least dip our toes into the sub level, or levels, of our new stronghold. Partially as theirs pressure within the clan rising up much earlier than I'd expected to do so, the more the warriors train the more eager they are to see what's down there. It's like a keep off the grass sign to the clan, nobody will be happy till they've stepped on that bloody grass.

So were going to go down in the next few days, well night as were better being in the nocturnal hours, and see what's down there. Though I AM insisting we plan this damn thing out rather than just rushing off down into the abyss. Call it planning for future military operations in a rather simple format.

That and I want to make sure the stake defences are put in place first, and that breach in wall sealed in a similar manner; at least that way any attackers are funnelled up main slope towards the battered main gate. On that narrower ground our smaller numbers can be concentrated against a larger attacker with arrow fire from the walls down the hill, and if worse we can still retreat into the stronghold if need be and hold it with maybe four or five orcs abreast.

So stronghold defences and living space first before we all go rushing off like idiots against the unknown dangers below...

...and I may have had a crazy idea. Not that seems unusual to my clan-orcs much to my continued annoyance. I am the only sane one here actually. Still even I think this one is understandable on their part, but I feel more confident with the added resources for the success of our expedition. Hey if there's nothing down there I lost nothing for it, and if there is we have two extra spell slots to our arsenal. And if Missy goes off the reservation then she would have done so regardless.

Okay so yeah I've decided to bring the slave along as magical fire support. Mainly because while I'm starting to get Sleep down, as in it casts and I can make people go nighty-night, it's unlikely to be any use against anything down there that may still be active after this length of abandonment. And she is, in theory at least, an adventurer with one (failed) quest under her belt already. Though I have picked her spells very carefully, no bloody magic missile and identify this time I'll tell you!

Anyway after mulling this over a while I talked to Ogrash and Zah about it, Zah though it was crazy but shrugged and said fine, while Oggy mulled it over and agreed with the idea behind it. Still thought it was crazy but it was little different than other clans giving a slave goblin or kobold a weapon and forcing them into a battle-line as fodder.

Still at her suggestion we have put some degree of societal acceptability over the whole matter; like most bipedal sentients, orcs do use dogs (or more wolf hybrids really) as hunting aides so technically pretending Missasri Bladecutter is in that category for the 'hunt' below. A simple thing of just daubing an orcish rune in war-paint on her face, that can be described as 'hunting beast', 'hunter's helper' or other variations. Partially I think the idea amuses Ogrash, but mostly it was to avoid offending any of the younger warriors by bringing a slave instead of them. In the end when we informed the plan there was no issue, mostly getting a few laughs at it, shrugs and even respect that we we're putting the slave to use.

I had sat down with short little Missy before this of course and offered her the choice of doing it or not. Oh I promised some minor rewards of course, mostly around some more food and a full days rest afterwards. And explained if there were any attempts to escape, harm any of my clan, or do anything but obey orders then there would be...consequences. To my surprise she gave a nervous, yet weary, acceptance of the plan and her involvement. I think she's less afraid of what's down there than been left up here alone and something happening to me and Oggy.

So that's our wizard who I will be keeping a firm, and literal, leash on during the exploring. Next up will be me and Ogrash as the team clerics will healing, and we'll be using the eight warriors from my squad as the first ones in. Zah as Chief will follow on behind after we've swept an area and insure nothing but nothing has been missed.

This will be less an RPG than a SWAT action in my mind. I'm preparing some meagre supplies of fire oil from our limited resources, along with a handful of healing potions and poultices, so they should be ready before we go. I'm drilling Missy each day on Grease and Burning Hands, and getting the boyos of my squad practice following more complicated orders.

If I have to go down there, then I'm making this work.

When: Start of Operation Dungeon Crawl

Where: Sitting outside staircase down into Keep

Just about ready to head down. Barricade's been moved and we're getting ready to head down. Stairways big enough for two abreast without issue, so I've got the clan's best hunters and trappers Iklar and Gethar at the front shields ready, with myself and Missy just behind and the others following. I don't want us getting clogged up in narrow spaces that were likely meant for less burly humans.

Wish us luck!

When: Day 2 of Operation Dungeon Crawl

Where: Resting my Room in Shaman's Tower

Whoever the adventurers were that quested here were, completionists they most certainly were not.

Let's just say as best I can tell they made a beeline for the staircase for the second level down, and then seem to have done the same on the second level. Which meant they left several rooms completely untouched in their mad dash downward...

Wait so let me back up a bit.

Our initial entry into the basement of our home was fairly straight forward; we marched down into the place and checked for traps along the way. Place was filled with dust and everything you'd expect from a place that'd been abandoned but for some rodents and (tiny harmless) spiders, apparently having been stepped into for decades jusging from the dust cloud that briefly came out as we opened the stone doors. Which was hard enough actually, ancient levers having rusted away – thank Illneval we're orcs and strength wasn't an issue. Still broke a sweat lifting that dang thing though.

After that it was nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, as we trundled along very slowly on my orders as while in a game running over a trap is just some pixels, or some ink on paper. Here it means your very likely dead, even if I was making everyone annoyed with my 'over cautious' nature. That annoyance came to an end when we smashed down the door into room just off the main path that appeared untouched...

And came into a room with four walking undead things; Skeletons in fact, though they looked more like draugr from Skyrim, or maybe those wights from Game of Thrones. Not quite I had imagined, but that shock got over pretty quickly when the damn things started moving from across the room ancient and broken weapons at the ready.

Now we could have rushed in and taken them...but I wasn't taking unnecessary injuries mind you. I had our hunting-helper cast grease on the floor in front of the doorway, threw in a torch and set it ablaze (yes in reality it does that unlike Baldurs Gate!) and had us form around entrance. Well four of us in a rough semi-circle, only two of the walking dead managed to make it through the doorway from the flames...one by one and being promptly smashed to itty bitty pieces by four orcs.

So yeah there was some still intact loot on the floor, a really old but intact (and I assume enchanted) dagger, some coins, and a few shiny gems. There was also another sealed room with another undead too. So we decided to call it a night at the point we reached the stairway to another floor below. Same deal –barricaded it, and we'd return the next day. Ie. Today.

And we did to a rough repeat. Nothing, Nothing, Nothing, Nothing, then a small room filled with some ancient undead...

Till we got to way down to third, and likely last level of the structure. Yeah there we found a significant amount of loot to be dragged back with us and justifying the expedition. Including magical items that aren't rusted so magical in my view, like two swords, a pair of glasses weirdly, a tattered spell book, and a host of other items and adventuring nick-nacks...

Yeah we found them on both sides of the resealed door to the third level. Seems that adventuring party that 'cleared out' the ruins never actually left said ruins as we found their corpses; they evidently died from wounds resealing that entrance door.

Obviously we resealed Mr. Doorway right quick. Yes we did. And barricaded the fuck outta it.

And now I have to think about what to do next.