In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

Crossposting of the TheIrishDreamer’s FanFiction on SpaceBattles all credit goes to the original author.

5. Entry 5

[Karguk 07]

Eastern Edge of Valley of Sparta

"Well there are a right auld amount of them aren't there out in the middle of nowhere" I muttered to no one in particular looking down at the trader caravan and their not insignificant number of guards. Traders from Luskan evidently according to my wizardess, and slightly unhappy Missy at that discovery and the fact they were at least in part slave traders. I could guess why, Luskan and Neverwinter were hardly friends I guess and I think she had hopes of maybe getting ransomed in the coming; and in truth as long as I got enough to justify losing our wizard trainer to the clan I'd have considered it. But she's more afraid of this lot I think than of staying with me and remaining in Sparta maybe, but can't really say for sure. Evidently she must have heard me and taken it as a query as she replied to with an answer in a quiet tone from beside me.

"Yes Sir, they'll likely be trading goods for slaves with the barbarians east of here, those symbols on the flags I think are those meaning peace with those tribes. And that number of guards is to both protect the caravan and keep the slaves they buy in line when they're on the return journey. They'd be travelling lighter and with more horsemen in a normal caravan, that and maybe half their number. Father showed me how much coin guards can cost and you want to get through hostile lands like this quickly to make a profit through legal means Master"

'Which is probably true, these fellas don't look like they're exactly of the Lawful Good alignment let's say' I thought nodding in understanding and motioning Missy to not say more as they drew closer under their own banner of truce. Four of them and five of us, though Missy hardly looked the threat in her hooded robe and boots compared to myself and my three guard escort with their chainmail, helms and heavy shields and these rough looking feckers coming towards us who were equipped likewise. The whole lot of them were probably some bandit group turned mercenaries, or professional slave catchers trying to have pretentions of (dubious) legitimacy; horrible people true but also sadly far more likely to trade with savage orcs than would any of the civilized traders of Silverymoon, Neverwinter or Waterdeep.

"Greetings honourable Sirs..." Missy began, bowing at the waist, when four men drew to just within speaking distance and what was evidently the leader looked over us with a dark expression on his face. Not surprising really when the caravan you're escorting suddenly gets confronted by their equal number of orc warriors. Hopefully they didn't notice we had groups on both flanks hidden in the hill and long grass and that little fact meaning we actually had them outnumbered them like three to one. We didn't want to spook them after all but our older clan-orcs had fought enough raids not to run the risk of not having the advantage if 'talk-talk with humies' failed and we, ahhhh...acquired...the goods we wanted by more direct means "...you have entered the domain of the Orcs of Sparta and they wish to know thy reasons for trespassing and also to barter and exchange goods with your noble selves. This humble slave shall translate for her Master"

She finished, motioning at myself, looking at the ground trying to look her part as this servile translator. Hey we're dumb orcs after all, at least everyone's mind, and pretending you don't speak Common beyond "Give Things Rarghhhh!" is an easy deception to make in this part of the world to humans and elves. It'll give me time to think about replying; at least I hoped it would as I kept my face blank. That and the fact Missy was in very good physical condition, clean, healthy and clearly not abused, I hoped would show we're not mad cannibal orcs out to eat them or something. I'd much rather trade than start some big stupid fight, especially after all the fighting we'd been doing and time it was taking away from food gathering and Bugbear killing.

"So the orcs got themselves a talkin' fucktoy eh? Well I suppose we're willin' ta' talk rather than kill the lot of ya. Fuckin tiring that'd be..." the man sneered back at Missy causing her to flinch slightly in anger and I hopefully keep my face blank as glanced at us continuing to talk in the rough voice of his "...but our reasons fer' travelling be' obvious ain't they? Tell yet Master we're ere' ta' trade with dem savages eastward ah' here, some weapons, silks, dyes an' the like for coin, gems or slaves like yerself. We might be willin' ta trade what are da terms? And are you fer sale? Ye look decent enough for an orc's bed-warmer. More slaves like ye make it worth the time?"

"No my slave is not for sale, and we would not be in position to lose any others with the work they do, though we would purchase some off you for a fair price..." I answered through a translating, and relieved at those words, Missy "...and Sparta can offer gold, gems and other such items in exchange for any weapons or potions you have in stock. Do you have any magical items my Master wishes to know as he is willing to pay well for such items?"

Something seemed to flicker through the man's eyes, though I wasn't sure what. Probably greed or surprise I figured as a moment later it was gone and the slight sneer back as he waved his hand in dismissal "Pah! Enchanted items? For Uthgard savages? Pah! Sell the fools a steel dagger and their impressed. No we merely have good steel and I think our caravan master would be interested in..."

Honestly I thought we'd spend longer than this talking, especially through a translator, but it was only a few minutes of straightforward and blunt terms and conditions we discussed. Neither of the two Chiefs wanted this lot actually within Sparta itself, nor did myself or Oggy, so we offered to meet them at a spot near the river and conduct our barter there. Personally I was really interested in getting the weapons, good steel was always hard to get as an orc and the less our enemies the Uthgarders got the less likely they were to come seeking out a fight in the future. There was at least five wagons down there so they could at least sell us one or two without complaint; I'd certainly ensure we paid well in hopes others would trade with us in the future.

Other than that was 'compensation' for trespassing on our lands and for our 'services' for 'escorting' them through the rest said territory. In truth I lowballed it compared to what most clans would demand in such a situation, either some gold or a smaller equivalent in weapons, so they should be able to spare a dozen or so swords without much complaint. It wasn't as if we were demanding all their goods or let us have our way with their women or such, and the man, a 'Captain' Lazthren nodded seemingly in agreement and suggesting at the end of it that the caravan was likely to agree to that. Really at that point, only a few minutes after starting our exchange, he and his escort were walking back to his circle of guards having just to confirm with the trader he was being paid by before agreeing. All in all it had gone much better than I'd feared.

"That went rather well didn't it Missy?" I mused moving back to where our centre group of warriors was waiting, blocking where the caravan's travel route had been guiding it. Ignorant and offensive that 'Captain' might have been but his straightforwardness was better than the moustache twirling villainy (and idiocy) I'd half feared getting from such an obviously Faerunian evil alignment. Thanks to the growing gloom as the sunset behind us I could see he was already talking off in the distance with his boss in the middle of the small wagon train.

"Yes Master, I dislike Luskans but they ar..." she started to say before her eyes narrowed and she looked directly at the caravan searching for something. Not a second later I felt it too; a unseen twinge, a soft barely heard sound that couldn't be heard...someone or something was using magic and even before my eyes the caravan was coming alive as that 'Captain' Lazthren was shouting orders and I could see arrows being readied and aimed at us.

"What the flying fu..." I started to say as I watched in seeming slow motion a flight of arrows was in the air coming towards me. It was...weird...they were just seeming to hang there in the sky, like wingless birds maybe, and I just...

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Covercoververcovervovervovercover

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

It's amazing what starts going through your mind when unexpected shit like this happens. Your body seems to be ahead of your brain in some regards as you either stand there frozen or find yourself face down in muck, or some other position your brain didn't order. I found myself face in the dirt seemingly by magic with Missy underneath me, evidently as I'd grabbed her and shoved both of us into the group of clan warriors. Well that and shouting "Testudo! Shields Up! Shields Up! AND SOMEONE KILL THAT FUCKING WIZARD!"

Because we can't have nice things evidently and some people are not as reasonable as they should be. I hoped that damned stupid bastard was having a fucking heart attack right now as the other two groups on either side of the caravan came to life and our true numbers became visible. Oh yeah and the fact we had magic as well!

I'll teach these ungrateful fucks to try and shoot me in the back!

I was going to make these bastards pay for trying to kill me after I tried to be so fucking reasonable and not just ambush them in the night. No good deed goes unpunished it seemed as I pushed myself and a shocked looking Missy back up as the arrows hammered into our shield formation and anger drove the fear away "LETS KILLS THESE FUCKERS! FOR SPARTA! FOR THE GREATER GOOD!"

Zah may have come up with that battle-cry for teasing me, but killing these gobshites was practically for the greater good of everyone not them. Why it would be practically a public-fucking-service in fact!

--

Okay a warning, disturbing images towards the end of this chapter and significant amount of foul language to emphasis parts on the SI. Any issues with Mod's and I'll amend if it bothers.

[Missasri 06]

Remnants of Luskan Caravan, Valley of Sparta

"What do mean the wizard *explodiated* Genjur? First *explodiated* is not a real feckin' word and second enemy wizards don't usually explodiate. At least without reasons anyway, so describe in feckin' detail what you saw happen" she heard Master Karguk snap at the young orc warrior with longbow in his hand and confused looked on his face. Truth be told Missasri was only listening to keep her mind off the fact she'd just raided a trade caravan!

'Only a Luskan one!" her mind reminded her firmly in Father's voice "They aren't real people after all, just a bunch of dirty pirates, cheats and slavers! It's your duty as a daughter of Neverwinter to remind them of that whenever you see them!"

But there was so much blood splattered everywhere, and this was human blood not that of orcs like in the last battles she'd be dragged into by the orcs. So while there was less of it than those times the simple fact was she had helped orcs raid a human trade caravan and slay its guards. That usually wasn't what a noble hearted adventurer of justice was known for doing from what she'd known of all the stories. Her poor dead former companions probably wouldn't have approved of it for that matter, but then again they were dead and Missasri Bladecutter was alive and hoping to stay that way thank you very much. And these Luskan's had attacked first when Master and his orcs were only trying to trade with them, so it wasn't evil when it was self-defence!

"Ehhh...wells Boss, Iz wazz shootin's mes at'ems likes youse was tells us to doin before the fightin's, but they's was doing fucks all. Bouncin' off somethin' before could hit'em and dat other magiky dude..." the younger orc was saying pointing at a body of young woman about hundred metres away dressed in travelling robes with a staff laying nearby "...they was doin's theys evil magicky stuff at everyones and thens the others ones pulls outs this shiny ball thingies and starts talkin's to its likes it was talkin's backs. And thens he's does weirdz thingie evers! Stops alls is' talkin's e' does and stabbins the others ones in the necks e's does! Thens he's walks aways abits, startin's magicky stuffs and thens BOOMS! He's explodiated! Fuckin' awesome it twas! He's wents everywhere he dids!" the warrior finished off cheerful motioning at the circle of gore around an indentation in the ground at its centre-point.

"Was it him or the ball that explodiat...now you got me doing it...was it him or the ball that blew up?" Master was asking sheathing his longsword now he'd gotten the blood cleaned off. Shaking her head to clear it she looked at the place where the enemy magic user had literally exploded in a fountain of gore. While she'd heard of miscast spells that just seemed ridiculous, especially from some who had been obviously a skilled practitioner of the arcane arts such as their enemy's had obviously been. He'd been casting spells far greater than her own meagre repertoire and the other must have been an apprentice as in the battle her spells had been around Missasri's own level as best she'd guess between her own terror, dodging and spellcasting during the battle.

"Dunno Boss, he just explodiated is all I knows...ehh Boss I think the Chief wants ya" was the reply as the teenage orc pointed at one of the captured wagons where Missasri saw the younger Orc Chieftain was motion for her owner to come over. Something Karguk did, dismissing the warrior and striding through the bloody aftermath of their fight as Missasri followed at his heels as she listened to him muttered curses under his breath. This whole situation had gone wrong in his mind as best she could tell, they'd started out looking for a trade deal, seemed to have it, only to find themselves in a pitched battle that had left a dozen orcs dead and twice that injured. Even if they had killed nearly all traders and their guards who had fought with unbelievable skill and ferocity for what was just a slaver caravan. Brave but insane in her mind, as if it had been Missasri Bladecutter in charge she'd have paid the orcs 'toll', made some barter and then left unmolested. Where was the profit in picking a fight like that?

"Whats up Zah?" Master Karguk greeted as they approached one of the larger covered, well till now covered, wagons which the Orc chief was standing on and pointed at whatever was in the crates they were opening "Eh, you're gonna wanna see this Karg. This is your sorta stuff I think, those wagons..." Missasri followed his hand to the front wagons and first to be inspected by the orcs "...are full of blades and spears and chainmail and all that good stuff. But this one..." he pointed again as they approached and Missasri saw what he meant and blinked a little in surprise. The nearest of the crates had already been pulled open and inside she could see what smelt like incense in one of jars in the crate, along with a series of scrolls and what looked like a ritual dagger and other accruements' from the markings.

"What the feck?" Master muttered climbing up and looking at them curiously a moment before glancing back at her "Missy, suggestions? Have we hit the mother lode by accident?"

"I'm...not sure Sir...I surprised to see this much..." she began glancing through the various things, some of which were quite valuable, and some she didn't recognise beyond what their likely use was as ceremonial items of some sort "...I'd need time to go through this Master, some of it could be dangerous if improperly handled"

"So don't touch nuffin I'm guessin, right Karg?" the burly Chief asked her owner while waving at two of older orc warriors to come over towards them and stop looting the bodies of some of the dead guards. They'd captured a few alive she'd seen by the group being stripped and bound a little distance away but of the fifty or more who'd made up the caravan it seemed most lay dead upon the valley floor around the wagons.

"No we don't touch anything till we figure out what they have, and does it blow up, because their wizard who nearly fucked things up for us evidently *explodiated* himself according to Genjur. So you two..." Master began as the two warriors approached and he hopped back down from the wagon "...guard this, no one touches till me or Zah says so. Zah, me, you, and Missy are checking that biggish one right now in case it's full the same. Here throw the cover back over it in case water or something stupid makes something active" he finished grabbing Missasri around the waist and lift her down as the Chief put the wooden cover back on the crate before pulling back over the cloth covering.

"How do you explode yerself? Is that what magic does? Why would you want to learn to explode yerself?"

"No I'm not going to explode myself Zah..." Master Karguk answered as they strode over to the larger roofed wagon in the centre of the caravan and what had worked out furthest from the fighting "...now please use the axe of yours to break the lock on this wagon. My sword my set it on fire from our luck. Because if they have that stuff out there like that, I both dread and am excited to see what they've got locked up"

"Kay, one broken lock coming up..." was the simple reply as the, still bloody, axe started to go thunk, thunk, thunk, against the steel lock before it cracked and snapped off as the orc evidently showed his (armour covered) muscles to her Master "...see look at them beauties shaman boy"

"Har, har, har Zah you and yo...what the flying fuck?" Master Karguk began then just froze staring as he dragged the panel open. Missasri at his sudden muttered curses and the orish Chief's face waving his hand in front of him in disgust looked around them and blanched as first the smell hit her face, followed by the sight. Inside the wagon, locked in cages barely big enough for their small frames were six small thin figures, young humans and elves it appeared, all female it seemed, but it was difficult to tell from the all the filth and dirt covering their emaciated frames. No sound emerged from them as stared terrified at the large green-skinned orc who'd smashed themselves into their dark and disgusting chamber, just before she bent over to throw up she saw that their tongues had been removed.

Beside her, barely noticed by Missasri, her owner Karguk had paled while staring inside, then rubbed at his eyes and stared again "Ok, what the fuck, what the flying fuck is this? Gods above whats wrong with this fucking world..." she heard him take a deep breath "...fuck, fuck, fuckitty fuck, FUCKKKKK..." another deep breath "...OK. OKAY...okay...I'M CALM,...shhhh...CALM THOUGHTS...okay...Zah, we're getting them out of those cages, getting them cleaned off and fed?"

Wiping her mouth with her sleeve Missasri saw as she straightened back up the young Orc Chief just nodded as Master Karguk continued "Right, Okay. That's the first thing, then we're questioning, questioning very carefully, the surviving guards and find out what the bloody hell is up with this gods-damned caravan because this is not normal. Missy, Missy..." he snapped at her and she blinked at him, something was in her eyes blurring her vision, bringing her away from that horrible sight "...Missy I NEED you to focus now, take a breath, calm down. We'll take them out, but I need you to look back in there in a moment. There's symbols engraved inside it, all over the woodwork...and that sword of mine is practically setting its sheath on fire right now"

Missassri nodded blankly, wiping at her eyes with back of her staff holding hand and fighting down the roiling sea that was her stomach as the orc shaman slapped his face with his bare hands for some reason, once, twice, before growling "Okay, this is fucking real. Great, just fecking great. Okay, you can do this..." she watched as he sucked in a breath and let it out "Okay...YOU, YOU, YOU AND YOU!" he roared out at some of the nearby orcs making hand gestures "COME HERE AND GET THEM OUT OF THOSE CAGES, THEN CLEAN THEM OFF. AND DO NOT FUCKING HARM THEM, I WANT THEM UNHARMED UNDERSTAND?"

--

When: Summer of the Year of the Dragon

Where: Sparta

Well we've a problem, how big of a problem is something I don't know, and I hate not knowing been honest. It all started out so simple in my head; we confront a trade caravan, we show them we can hurt them if they make trouble but were also very willing to trade, we trade, they head off on their merry way and we get useful things we wouldn't otherwise have access to. And initially it started out well – they didn't freak out, they came out and negotiated and everything seemed hunky-dory...till they attacked us the second their Captain got back to the caravan and started talking to the Caravan Master.

This is where the plot of the intended story went off the rails from "Dummies Guide to being a Trader" all the way to jumping straight to the horror section of the library. Because our little trade caravan was most certainly not what it seemed to be. No, not at all, we went in there thinking this was at worst a slaver caravan; unpleasant people yes, but the most likely to trade with us after all. And frankly orcs make bad slaves, both from being orcs firstly, but also we're only worth a fraction of a pretty slave girl; ie what slave traders coming out to barbarians are looking for basically.

But as I was saying this slave caravan was not what exactly what it seemed to be; the first indication was the archers shooting arrows at me, and the second was that the 'Caravan Master' was in fact a wizard of the Host Tower with an apprentice in tow. Not a true master of those evil bastards thank the Gods, but damn well powerful enough to kill a dozen of my clan brothers despite our tactics cutting down the damage somewhat, and of course targeting him from the get-go; bastard was skilled enough to have protection from missiles and fireball. Till he exploded himself at least; or more accurately I suspect was exploded by his bosses back in Luskan. Because the timing was weird, Genjur said he was talking into this metal ball and then blew up – but that's strange because he could have just hopped on one of the horses, grab a guard or two, and high ho silver away!

And it's debatable, honestly highly unlikely, if we'd have been able to catch them. But Nope, that's the moment our evil wizard supposedly chooses to blow himself up. For some reason I'm very suspicious of that.

Oh yeah, because of the veritable horror show we came across in the wagons, and then the associated discoveries during our...questioning...of the surviving guards of the caravan. See those rough and tough slaver guards dressed like mercenaries?

Yeah, no, their Luskan militia supplied by one of the High Captains to the Host Tower for this little escapade and while they were travelling under Luskan banners, they were also very much hiding what they really are by their outward appearance. Which just makes this so much worse how it all worked out; because it was very much my actions that kicked off the battle accidently by trying to avoid said battle. See I figured to use Missy as our translator to hide our knowledge of the Common Tongue, and before I realised they were slave traders it was to show were not complete monsters.

Oh did that plan backfire. See that Captain of theirs, and his men, recognized her accent as that of a high born lady of Neverwinter; evidently Missy speaks really posh, who knew?

So the minute those dudes got back to their camp – yep, told the wizard what they saw and heard, said this is a fucking trap, and then started shouting at the soldiers that this was a Neverwinter treachery, etc, etc, etc, and they'd fight their way out as these were only orcs. Of course that plan didn't go too well for them but I still feel like banging my head against the wall for the massive bloody misunderstanding that kicked everything off.

Still...if that's what they thought then the wizard, before he exploded (or explodiated as Genjur put it) anyway, must likely told his bosses this opinion given by the men. That Missy is Dread Sorcerer from Neverwinter out to thwart the 'glorious' plans of Luskan by paying off some dumb orcs (ie us) because evidently no orc slave would be that unabused, or wearing clothes, or a host of other uncomplimentary things about us. So hurray for misunderstandings I guess?

Now here's though where we come to the point of the story where this terrible misunderstanding might have been the better outcome of any of the outcomes. Because this caravan was filled with basically DIY Demon Summoning Kits as best I can tell, and Missy can tell as well, as we had two wagons full of crates magical equipment, scrolls, ritual tools and a few magical artifacts. And...another wagon filled a horror show in the shape of six shit covered and emaciated girls in thin wire cages, four human, two elven...all virgins, all with tattoos that indicate their 'special' in some way.

Please the Gods that I never am 'special' enough to justify the treatment the poor wretches were given; two had their tongues cut out, and all had their vocal cords severed in some fashion. Missy doesn't know what they are – they can't speak and are too traumatized frankly to give any sort of answer through other means. At a guess I'd have to guess potential sorcerers, or dragon-blooded...or something like that.

Whatever the case I've had them cleaned and fed and given them over as property to Oggy in her position as Priestess of Luthic. Being property of the Luthic, and the females through that, is less than they deserve after all they've been through but it's the best I can do right now. I checked them out myself for any signs of magic or whatever those damned runes in their wagon were for, but everything fine best mysef, Oggy and Missy can tell. Still no one is grumbling at least, partly because most of the other male orcs are a bit freaked out by their intended roles as demon sacrifices or containers...and partly because we handed over the surviving caravan female guards to them which is considered generous on our part. I hope they enjoyed been dragged back to Sparta in their own slave chains and collars. Frankly I'd rather have killed all of the guards like we did with male ones after what I saw in that wagon, and the fact dead men tell no tales, but their loot and we need to maintain discipline more than ever now.

Because even though we just got a truly great haul of weapons and armour as a clan, and I've come into more magically items than I've time to identify let alone know what to do with, the fact is Luskan is evidently supplying the Uthgard barbarians with weapons and demons. Those same Uthgard barbarians most likely that drove the Fingercutters out of their stronghold to attack us, and is at this moment probably expanding in our general direction. Because no way in the seven hells can we take on a demon backed barbarian horde in our current state; not without some development or extra numbers, or striking before those humans get the next delivery of demon summing DIY kits. Oh and the Hight Captains of Luskan and/or the Host Tower could be seeking vengeance upon us and might pay some murder-hobos to give us a visit sometime in the future. So yeah we've alot to consider right now eh?

So for the moment we've now got a fully stocked armoury again, along with about two dozen horses and six wagons before even counting the magical supplies from two of those wagons. Well that and the food from the wagon carrying the guards own supplies for the journey; hard tack and a host of other not nice tasting, but perfectly edible, food stuffs for the ladder. The only real loss was the wagon that held those girls in their horrid conditions and bindings, I had that burned after inspecting it; I have no idea what those symbols mean, but they feel wrong, totally wrong,so I had that one burned ASAP. Burn Baby Burn I Say.

And nobody objected quite frankly. I'm not taking chances with this basically, and tomorrow I'll have what are basically the best purification, warding and binding rituals we can do done those six girls. It's the soonest we can do it, I need to rest for spells, and Ghorza and Oggy need time to ready the rituals and tools for them, while those girls need rest anyway after the ordeal they been through, so we've warded the room their currently resting in and placed a watch.

Outside of that Breyjuk as Co-Chief thinks we should tell the other clans surrounding the valley and spread the word of what we've found as it will give us possible allies against any attack to come. Problem I can see with that is – yes it will give us likely allies as he says, but it'll be like a flame to a stick of dynamite (Note: I need to invent dynamite) as this will in flame the clans and then spread to other clans, enflaming their shamans. Where we are looking at potential clash with the Uthgarders we would go to definitely fighting the Uthgarders as some orc clan use this discovery as an excuse to cast aside difference and head off to kill some human barbarians. And we've no idea right now how strong those barbarians are – and we haven't even wiped out those bloody Bugbears yet!

Right, I need to pray now and then sleep. It will be a long and tiring day tomorrow. Slan go foill a chara.

--

[Ogrash 02]

[Keep, Sparta Stronghold]

Thrum Thrum Thrum Thrum Thrum Thrum reverberated around the fire lit shadows of Keep.

Ogrash watched as staffs smashed in something close to unison as the acolytes of hers, and those of Karg and Ghorza, chanted out in line with the banging of the staves and the beating of the ceremonial drums. The whole floor of the Keep seemed to reverberated around her and she could almost feel the atmosphere crackle with energy as they went from ritual to ritual as she watched Karguk, sword raised and chanting, stood before the outline of the ceremonial circles where the six slaves knelt before the clan Totem.

'So much for the simple plan of a few rituals Karg..' she thought to herself fighting to keep her mind calm in the swirling whirlpool of energy buzzing around here '...please Goddess don't let us screw this up now'

Unplanned it may have been but now the smell of the burning incense was in the air, the building rhythm of the chants, and the unseen tingle in the air was threatening to inflame her passions just it seemed to be doing to just about everyone else present. What Karguk had wanted to be a few simple warding rituals on the slaves had somehow turned into this where she could feel the Gods among them.

At first it been just the fact there were six slaves and the rituals would take alot of time, so they'd decided to expand it to bring in the various acolytes they were developing, mostly to ease the effort of the preparations but also to just train them a little. Then the joint Chief with Zah, that old fuck Breyjuk, had wanted a victory ceremony and blessing of the blades while they were at it all this shaman stuff...and they'd gotten this...

On their knees in their individual ritual circles the slaves taken from the human demon worshippers were swaying in unison to the beat of the chanting, their heads rolling back and forth, mouthing silent words while blank eyes stared into nothingness. She, Karguk and Ghorza, well and the slave Missy, had spent an irritating amount of time painting the various runes and protection wards that covered their naked flesh. Even the leather and steel collars encircling their necks had anti-demon runes and other protections stitched into them.

Now those daubs of paint seemed to almost pulse with life somehow as above them the Totem looked on with rubies that seemed to glow like eyes in the darkness, judging all present. Even Karguk seemed to be out of it as he chanted and moved like an orc who had drank too much, or was suddenly unaware of anything other than what he was doing at this moment in time.

That strange enchanted sword he'd taken as his own he held above his head now, burning now like she'd seen it do in battle against the foes of the clan, as he chanted out the blessings and praises of the Horde Leader and calling upon his holy might. Before him the six slaves were arranged in a line, with an elf on either side, in the shape of foe-smiter itself in the painted outline of the ceremonial circle while surrounded first by the holy symbols of her own Goddess.

And then by the swords and chainmail taken from the humans who had dared trespass on their lands and sought to arm the enemies of Sparta and now lay to be sanctified by the Gods for Sparta. For that reason and to show that the clan was strong enough to be worthy of the blessings of the Horde Leader and the Cave Mother; these weapons and slaves had been won by their blood and steel, in glorious battle against servants of demons. As she panted at the growing oppression and power in the air around her she guessed they had been more successful in pleasing the Gods than they'd intended.

Karguk was roaring out something, but she couldn't follow as a wave of dizziness hit her and she staggered a moment before clasping the staff with her Goddess's symbol firmly in both and rising to stand full erect at an unseen order. To her side her mate's pet wizardess had fallen to her knees gasping for breath like the weak human she was, her flesh covered in a sheen of sweat as the brand of Ilneval given when she'd been captured seemed to almost glow to Ogrash's eyes.

"Uhhh...wha...whats hap...happ.. hah...hah...happeni...ng...hah...hah...hah.." Ogrash faintly heard it whimper seemingly caught between fear, and pain, and ecstasy. But the Priestess of Luthic hardly heard the slave at her feet as the noise roared off the walls of the stronghold and her body was ordered to move, her blood boiling and singing at the power rising up inside and around her. As she strode forward a shard of her mind idly noted the six slaves covered in their ceremonial paint had gasped, rising up to stand as if puppets on a string as their mouth opened and a faint black smoke emerged.

But Ogrash did not care for this, someone was calling her, words emerging from her mouth in a solid chant as her staff began to beat in steady rythm as she strode to the side of her mate while her best acolytes, her friends, had come forward now to join Karguk's ones in their chanting. Across from her on the opposite side of Karguk the form of Ghorza had come forward, rapturous joy showing upon her face as she raised her own clerical longsword in the air identical to Ogrash's mate. Behind them the warriors roared and chant while before them the glowing ruby eyes seemed to burn brighter and brighter and brighter...

...faint shrieking seemed to fill the air amongst the chanting as the black smoke writhed and danced in the air, wreathed in red flame. But none present cared as the air in the cavernous inside of the stronghold pulsed and pressed down on all present like an invisible weight that drove many to their knees at its unseen touch. But even that agonised shrieking was drowned out as Ogrash felt herself griping her staff tightly, as her mate reversed his sword so the blade, now seeming to burn almost white hot, was facing down wards hilt held tightly in both hands. Ghorza was mirroring him and in unison they raised them as the beat of the drums, the banging of staffs and chanting seemed to reach an unknown crescendo...

...and in as close a united motion as possible brought down their symbols of office on the edge of the ceremonial circle...

...as the flame on her mates blade seemed to spread along the ceremonial markings burning a ghostly white flame over the outline as the whole room suddenly went silent...

...for but a moment as a faint roar with no source than any could see was heard and began to grow. Before her the six slaves, eyes glazed, the strange runes marked on their bodies by the Luskans melting away, orcish symbols pulsing as they knelt prostrate. In the air smoke burned into nothingness as the roar grew, and the unseen weight drove the three clerics to their knees, Ogrash clutched her staff tightly, bowing her head with forehead resting against it.

Behind them all were prostrate, chief and warrior, female and the few slaves as the roar grew in their ears as blood, dark red blood, began to seep and flow slowly but surely as the Totem's eyes burned bright, and holy, and terrifying in the gloom. Karguk's and Ghorza's heads were bowed as first the blood seeped down their chainmail, then down the armour and blades within the cavern, whether laid out for the ceremony or carried by the warriors present. But Ogrash did not notice this as a rumbling noise rose now with the roaring, a rumble mixed with the noise of what sound like that of claws slashing of cave walls, the Keep darkened around them and feelings of power and lust and joy and fear rose up within her trembling frame.

A harsh voice whispered and roared insider her "Be Plentiful. Be Strong" and another louder voice whispered in the Keep, cold, hard and unyielding as steel as it yet filled the darkness that was illuminated only by the barely visible pale light of Karguk's sword and the brighter pulsing one of the now bleeding clan totem "Prepare. Conquer"

Ogrash trembled in fear and happiness as the pressure faded away and darkness cleared around her. Truly they had been blessed this day.

--

Note - Yeah the SI's simple plan and attempt at good deed sorta went of the rails here. Orcish Gods have twisted sense of humor it seems.

When: Summer 1352DR

Where: My Tower

Word to all would-be summoners and mages thinking about performing ritual circles and the like; shortcutting said rituals is a BAD IDEA. DO NOT DO IT. Because even when you're safe, and check everything and focus only on your deities' spheres, the fact is that you can overpower even simple rituals; and the GODS WILL ANSWER.

'Oh but Karguk, I want my Mighty and Glorious God/Goddess to hear my prayers' you say, that 'Oh what Glory it would be to receive their divine wisdom and power'

Then you're an idiot I'd reply. Because we are minions, squishy little peons to them that get told "Do this, Do that. OR ELSE" save that the 'Good Gods' only subtly imply the 'Or Else' part while the 'Evil Gods' are up front and blunt about it.

The Boss falls in a little of column A and a little of column B; he's been very blunt about I NEED YOU TO DO MORE MINION in the coming seasons because we're on a deadline(as if I'd forgot) while only implying bad shit happening if we failed in that. Then again that could just be the Boss's default setting, every time I get dragged to meet him he's absolutely terrifying and focused 'I have a job for you' not on kicking back and having a mug of ale in celebration at success.

Okay an explanation is in order I suppose. At my last entry the decision was made to perform a few rituals to purify and ward the former demon sacrifices turned slaves. Long story short Team Cleric got lazy, myself very much included in that, as demands were placed on us to perform other stuff along with these simple but time consuming routines by our Chiefs and clan. So we opted for a series of rituals one after another that allowed us to train up the various acolytes being trained by Ghorza and Oggy, and our future spell-casters by Missy, and to have clan celebration and blessing at the end.

Suffice to say it turned into much more than that as I drastically underestimated the various effects of the extra (if untrained) spell-casters, so many worshipers, the fact the Boss wanted an excuse to manifest and of course the six slaves. Ah the six slave girls we took from Luskans and who were the initial purpose of the various runes and wardings. Yeah turns out their like fuel to a fire in a magic ritual like this. Oh and yeah, all those horrid runes in their horror cages had an impact and demons were trying to taint /possess them. So the whole thing just...became a major manifestation of both the Boss AND Luthic; yes evidently we put enough juice into it to attract the attention of the Cave Mother. She is alsoterrifying.

As to the six slaves, well as I said they powered up the ritual and they, and me, were essential put into auto-pilot mode by the Gods while our souls got dragged along for the job review and grading meeting of doom. Okay I'm being overly dramatic in that but the experiences absolutely fucking terrifying let me tell you, almost as terrifying as standing (well astralling? Spirit-walking?) before your Gods as your body is hijacked below. The six really were there unintentionally, or perhaps intentionally it's hard to know with the Boss been honest, he doesn't tell me his plans. Need to know and all that, I fully agree with the reasoning as I probably don't want to know the details anyway.

Well firstly the six were deemed as useful 'tools' to the clan. This was put in an even more disdainful way than usual, them being non-orcs means getting even less respect the minions like me (and I get sweet fuck all) but saving their souls was needed to become those tools. Which they somewhat have to agree too when forcing the demonic taint and stuff from them; there are RULES evidently for these sorta things. And...our pantheon is not exactly known for their friendly and generous nature to non-orcs and that was true here; they want to be saved they have to swear to serve in exchange.

Though with the threat of having your soul slowly tormented and then eaten by a demon(s) then even being made swear to serve evil orc Gods plans seems a good deal; though the fact they are absolutely terrifying and right there in front of them probably helped in the decision making of those nearly broken girls. That and I think the Boss and Luthic get great amusement out of having elf slaves praising them abjectly, something to boast to the One-Eye I guess. Just a note, demons scream loudly when a Goddess banishes them by setting them on fire; also Luthic has the laugh of a mad scientist. I say that in the most flattering way ever Oggy if you read this, I now live in terrified awe of her divine beauty.

I will say the pyrotechnics were awesome though and been honest the Cave Mother and the Boss held up their side of the deal. All six slaves had that taint banished from by their divine power, their torn out tongues and maimed vocal cords were healed and all those protections wards we'd painted unto them are now permanent buffs of a sort through tattoos that snake across their bodies from head to toe like a bizarre artwork. Of course they held up the bad part of the deal too; all six have been effectively fitted with a restraining bolt in the shape of their now magically bound collars.

Their healed and buffed alright, but the healing is bound into serving Sparta with the collars being the magical artifacts that bind them; and myself and Oggy hold the metaphorical leash in much the way an arcane slave collar works. Dammit. Going forward the Boss has made it clear they are boosting our rituals and ceremonies in future so he can more easily manifest when he desires it without unnecessary questions from the One-Eyed one. So in addition to accidently overpowering a ritual; it's now being considered the standard for future rituals so the Boss can take a more active role in our development. Oh and Luthic likes it too for separate reasons and expects a 'worthy' Midwinter Ceremony as well. Please hold a minute while I go bang my head off the wall repeatedly at my own stupidity and incompetence.

This is probably something to do with that the major outcome of the day, well beyond raising the new united clan's morale sky-high and of course raising up mine, Oggys and Ghorza's reputation within it. No the major reasoning I suspect is to do with the mass blessing and sanctifying of our weapons and armour and in the mass healing of all the clan-orcs present from minor scratches all the way up to cut out tongues of the slaves. This worries me greatly; we just hit a DIY Summon Your Own Demons Kit carrying caravan, have been ordered to go war with the people being supplied said kits and now the Boss is supplying us with weapons that can hurt demonic and magical entities, and armour/shield that now have protections built into against demonic and magic foes. Call me fucking paranoid but I doubt it was out of the kindness of his heart.

It worrying because we're not exactly in that league of fighting multiple Uthgard settlements and all the other groups in said vicinity, and maybe Luskan, oh and of course don't forget the Gods-damned Demons they might have in their armies. Oh and then did I mention that in the immediate term we're supposed to hurry the fuck up and wipe out any remaining foes in the valley, launch a raid on someone (unspecified) before year's end and then of course clear out the bottom of the dungeon as well while we're at it. See every time your patron talks to you they give you a Too Do List and things that may get you killed in a variety of uncomfortable and unforeseen ways.

But...and here's the thing we are on a deadline; no matter what the Time of Troubles will hit in five years and bit and if we're not ready then we're screwed. Gods will walk the land and chaos will descend with them upon Faerun. Whether we attack or not, the fact is the Uthgarders drove out the Fingercutters and will come after us eventually and we'll have to fight them anyway. Luskan are evidently performing demon summoning in our neck of the world. While I've been avoiding going into the bottom of the stronghold it's not like we can sit atop it forever and pretend everything's fine; I've been procrastinating and been finding reasons not to descend into it. It's a bad character trait and as much as I hate the thought it needs to be done, because really we've been given everything we lacked that I was using to justify not going in.

Since its summer already we're going to have to move pretty quickly to this year's work quota from the Boss, the details of which I will work out of course with the rest of our leadership council. Not that they need any encouragement after the fancy ceremony we all just came through; if anything their all convinced it's a blessing and holy favour rather than us being given our marching others. So it's more a matter reining in the sudden outburst of religious fervor that's engulfed the stronghold than trying to prod them into action. I should be glad perhaps we didn't march straight out of the ceremony chanting hymns and charging towards the bugbears to the south.

So the plan for the moment is to send out our scouts to mark out what the Bugbears have been doing during our period of distraction, and to investigate what's occurring over the valley's edge from where the Fingercutters came from. We're also sending out three 'emissary' groups, ie a veteran orc and a few younger warriors, to the nearest orcs and tell them we've discovered and ask them to spread the word basically of the Uthgarders getting magical help. And the Demons of course, can't forget the Demon Summoning.

In the end this won't be a little battle, Ilneval does not help like this unless it's going to a hard fight, so Breyjuk's idea to set off a general clash between nearby clans and the human barbarians. The Boss's orders to the clan were simple; Prepare. Conquer. And I know what he wants us to prepare for unlike the others, and that, sadly, means we have to start being the bad guys to our enemies and neighbors. Only time will tell if we can order to this savage land and maybe justify, even a little, a war of conquest.

--

[Zahgorim 06]

Valley of Sparta

The moon was full in the sky Zahgorim noted as he watched from his position hidden among the high grass and bushes as Karguk led four squads of orcs towards the Bugbear encampment in close fighting formation. Something he expected the Bugbears were fully aware judging from the faint, but excited, hoots and shouts coming from their village. He'd fought the big ugly bastards when Pa had brought him on his first hunt and the painful truth was they had better sight and hunting instincts than most orcs did. Especially since this was their territory; it had been inevitable that'd at least know the Spartans were moving through it, and guess that was towards them. He waved his arm for his warriors to stay in place and more importantly stay quiet.

'Come out ye big stupid uglies. Look at all the shinies they'e got, ya know you want them' he urged them on as his friends flashy magic sword started doing its 'pretend to be a torch' thing once again as now a number of obviously armed and ready Bugbears emerged from the camp waving weapons at the sky illuminated by the pale moonlight. Pa had always said those damned bugbears loved ambushed and trying to take shiny loot from their prey, shiny magic loot in particular. And if you wanted to make them fight you on your terms you had to make them think they were fighting you on theirs; otherwise the big strong ugly bastards would just run away and ambush you somewhere else.

So when his clan had marched against their foe at the command of the Gods themselves Zahgorim had talked for many hours with his fellow Chief Breyjuk and with the other warriors of the clan of how to final drive their enemy from their lands. Too many orcs had found themselves in the belly of these bugbears over the years even if none of the Stormfang had suffered that fate for many years even after becoming Sparta clan, still the other clan-orcs such as the former Thunderblades had and this would be their vengeance. A vengeance blessed by the Gods themselves he hoped, and he gripped his axe tighter as on the flanks of Karguk's group more bugbears emerged from their hiding places roaring from this distance. Thankfully his friend had noticed and his warriors had hunkered down shields ready and spears out as Zahgorim watched the strange glow of magic being formed by their shaman.

Bringing his axe up slightly he motioned a gesture to move forward, but to keep low through the cover and, after this threatening earlier, not to make noise while doing so. Hopefully the bugbears had assumed the group under Karguk were the only ones trying to attack; there were two bands it looked like attacking his friend and forty warriors would be normal number for a raid this size. Crouching down as he crawled forward through the foliage, shield on back beside the dozens of other warriors doing likewise. And of course Karguk's pet human mage who crouched alongside him dressed in a leather and cloth jerkin, hopefully readying her own magic for the coming flank attack. Karguk had made him assign someone to guard the female of course, she was very valuable property after all and the two younger warriors Juknir and Gresh were learning magic from the female already so that should be enough to guard her.

Ahead of them the sounds of battle rang across the night sky as dozens of seven foot tall goblinoids roared and charged at semicircle of orcs behind shields. For a moment the sky flashed brightly as they crawled forward, follows by the crackle of flame and roars in anger. Blinking he raised himself up slightly and saw flames had erupted in front of Karguk's group, in fact a burning torch that was also a shrieking bugbear ran backwards into one of his comrades disrupting those coming behind him. Still his own warriors continued to move ever closer, the faint clink of their armour and other noises of movement now eclipsed by growing sounds of battle as bugbears were fixated on pounding on his clan brothers. Who themselves were being pushed back by the size and weight of their foe even as spears and blades flashed out to injure and kill their attackers.

Now that they were near, he roughly grabbed the human slave's shoulder and motioned for her to perform her strange magics. She nodded obediently and rose up slightly, arms beginning to gesticulate rapidly while her voice, despite trying to be low, began to chant out strange words in the direction of their enemy's. Raising his axe Zahgorim began to rise up to a standing position, shield sliding off his back to his arm as the warriors of the clan began to do likewise in preparation for the charge. Despite his best efforts though he saw that a nearby bugbear had seen them and started to let out roar of warning that orcs were emerging on their flank...

...too late. Karguk's pet female let out a final loud shout arm gesturing in a sweeping motion unleashing a spell that brought flecks of light amongst the nearest bugbears, the one shouting a warning now roaring in pain while rubbing frantically at its eyes. Zah didn't give him a chance, rushing forward and swing his magic axe in an upward swing into the throat of the bugbear causing a gurgling noise and a spray of blood to emerge from the larger goblinoid as the Spartan Chief began to roar out orders as he smashed another blow into his fallen foe.

Bugbears were tough bastards after all, and by the time he finished a third blow, this time to the head, to finish it off for good the entrety of his waband had pressed forward, shields locked together and spears and halberds thrusting into their larger but now surprised foes. The cries of panic now coming from inside the camp, and the clash of arms caused his blood to boil in battlelust and joy; they carried weapons blessed by the Gods themselves and no brutish jumped up goblin was going to stop them!

More fire erupted amidst those same enemies a moment later, either from Karguk or the slave-wizard, and the shield-wall ground their way forward against the big larger bugbears, spearpoints driving into their bodies, while halberds reached over them and inflicted savage wounds on exposed shoulders and sword arms. Blood flowed freely and soon the front of the shield-wall was covered in blood, but it was not all the blood of bugbears as Zahgorim found himself at the front of the line as fellow warrior was dragged forward and disemboweled by the savage enemy. But he did feel tired as the axe in his hands seemed to cut through a foe with each blow, and clan-orcs on either side of him protected him as made his attacks, as he did them when they stabbed and slashed with weapons slick with blood.

"FORWARD! FORWARD! THE GODS WILL IT! FOR THE GREATER GOOD!" he heard himself roaring as suddenly he found that they had broken through to Karguk's group, who were battered but roaring their own battle cries. Both groups beginning to drive the now disorganised bugbears before them, leaving blood and gore of the foe in their wake as the growing fires crackled and threw shadows as the air was filled with roars and the shriek of steel on steel.

Suddenly Zahgorim found himself smashed backwards unto the ground. Rolling with an angry roar he saw that a giant of a bugbear had smashed into their line in a berserker fury, spiked mace smashing into a clan brother with a sickening crunch. Roaring in rage the chief rose back up...just in time to get his shield braced before him as the mace hammered into it as the enemy berserker swung it weapon ferocious speed and brutality.

Staggering back Zahgorim prepared for the next blow, but it never came as the larger attacker roared in anger but swinging wildly as it was blinded by magic. A moment later a spear was thrust into the back of its leg driving it to its knees as it barely drove off another orc coming in from its right. Gathering his strength Zahgorim roared once more and charged forward gripping his battle axe tightly as he swung a mighty blow that smashed into his fallen enemy's blinded face with a loud squelch as bone and flesh almost exploded at the impact.

"FORM UP! FORWARD! FORWARD!" he shouted out wiping off the blood and pieces of bone that had splashed his face. Around him the uninjured and lightly injured warriors were shouting out renewed battle-cries and trying to form back up as had been beaten into them the past year. Their foes females and whelps would escape but their warriors would die this day, and they themselves would serve to spread fear of Sparta amongst the other weaker clans of the species. With luck they would flee in the coming weeks, if not they would be slaughtered. But that thought was for another time and place. Now the enemy stood to be driven before them...

--

[Missasri 07]

Southern edge of Valley of Sparta

"Sparta would welcome brave orc warriors such as you and your companions..." she heard her owner's friend the burly warchief say to the dozen or so orcs before them in the middle of their current encampment, the ruins of what had once been a village decades ago. They were crudely armed, barefoot and hungry looking from her position kneeling to Master Karguk's side, especially compared to the warriors surrounding them. Truthfully though she just wished for the whole thing to be over soon; her body ached from the exhausting marching, fighting and brief spell-casting of the past few weeks and the night was cold and foggy.

Despite this she knelt, head bowed submissively as a good slave was supposed to, hands folded on her lap ready to cast a burning hands if these orcs proved to be enemies "...but you must know that our ways would be your ways forever more. These are harsh ways, some are new ways but they make us strong. Strong enough to destroy our enemies! Fleshgorers! Clawslashers! Fingercutters and now these foolish Bugbears! All we have beaten! Those who break our laws and threaten our strength will be punished without mercy. So will you serve knowing this?"

Master Karguk had been surprised she knew by this result of the clan's sudden and ruthless campaign against the bugbear groups south of their stronghold. In the exhausting weeks since they'd marched out they'd fought, and then burned the settlements of, several bands of the larger goblinoids scouts and these orcs had reported they'd seemingly caused the remaining bands to begin migrating away from the threat. In a way it was unsurprising, while big, brutish and power they were always fewer in number than orcs and goblins; made worse by the fact they never really fought in large numbers.

What had caught her owner and the other orcs by surprise was the arrival of this small band of younger orcs seeking to join them as they had seen their bugbear foes being driven out and a clan perhaps willing to take them in. As best as her tired mind understood these so-called runts, like many other small bands nearby were cast-offs from clans further south struggling to survive. As their clan's numbers swelled beyond the clan's resources many of the younger warriors would leave and try eking out a fresh territory and maybe females of their own. Or, like now it seemed, join a stronger warband.

"We will obey! Be strong and fight at your word! Your foes will be our foes!" the evident leader of the ragged band growled out, then deliberately cutting his palm with a dagger he pulled out slowly and carefully, so as to appear a threat she guessed "Before the Gods, I swear by my blood to serve you and your clan!"

Missasri resisted shivering at mention of the Orc Gods or glancing at Master Karguk who evidently was favoured by them in some manner judging by the Ceremony. It had only meant to be a series of straight forward rituals to help those poor things captured from the Luskan demon summer and his caravan...instead...instead she had felt the presence of Gods that night like a boot on her neck, or an animal cowering before the fury of the storm. She had felt the power roil and roll around and through her that night, watching as her orcish owners called upon their patron deities while the brand inflicted on her during her first days of enslavement, the symbol of one of those Gods, had burned...in agony and yet ecstasy she still couldn't describe.

It was then it had been confirmed that she was a slave to a Chosen, or at least a Favoured Cleric, of a God like she had suspected somewhat; scary in what it could mean, a relief in that he could keep her safe much easier. Karguk was an...Odd...orc, but thank Mystra he was odd in a good way and her life this past year was now equivalent to that of an educated household servant. Escape...escape would a joy, but the risk of losing the relatively safe position she'd eked out in the clan...made it was too great a risk to take at the moment; after all things weren't too bad really were? Especially when compared to other possible fates.

"Then by my power as Chief from this day onward you are Spartans! Now stand up! No brave Orc warrior should kneel and suffer an empty belly! Spartans give our new clan brothers ale and some decent grub! They'll need their strength for their training right boys?" she heard the Orc Chief, Zahgorim announce loudly followed by gruff laughter from the assembled orcs.

Missasri could guess at the source of that; she'd seen the 'training' of these warriors in the past year and a half and harsh was a polite word to use for the iron discipline expected of them. The goblins and kobolds in the camp for the campaign nodded grimly she saw at the edge of her vision, they themselves having just been introduced to it since the march began. It was...strange...to see these monster folk being trained almost like proper human soldiery. Still it was a relief to see the newcomers being led away, unaware of their training to come, for food and her owner stand up along with the Chief and on the other side the cleric Ghorza evidently deciding it was time to get some rest. Legs aching even as she pushed herself up, she followed along just behind Karguk as they talked quietly amongst themselves.

"You think we can trust them Karg, Ghorza?"

"No idea as yet Zah, but I think we can trust their desperate and we're winning. Always good to join the winning side they say but I think they won't be the most reliable in battle for a while, nor any of the others that might come to us now were here"

"Actually Karguk, Chief Zahgorim, I'm more interested in their words of what's south of here and maybe getting more warriors for the Horde Leaders plans. I know their runty useless fucks but we can whip them into shape in the coming seasons. And they say they're places worth raiding as well but they didn't have the numbers to do so. I say we keep up driving those big ugly fuckers away from our lands and then gather our loot before returning home before the first snows. The Gods have blessed us and now want us to prove our strength" Ghorza stated as they walked. Above them the moon lay hidden behind the cloud stated as they walked and the moon lay hidden behind the clouds above; in the distance faint rumbling in the sky likely indicating the coming of a summer rain storm in the next while.

"Karg?"

"I don't know yet, let's try seeing what our new recruits are like after some food and a bit of training first. We'll rest here a few days before we start campaigning again don't you think? I don't know about you but I'm exhausted and think everyone else is too. And that's without healing up our wounded like we need to"

To Missasri's relief the other two orcs fully agreed with her owner's opinion to just stick to their original plan of resting of few days in this encampment before making a decision. Even putting one foot in front of the other felt like each leg was weighted down in heavy armour and not the light robe she currently had on. Thankfully it was only a hundred metres or so to the ruined old stone farmstead currently serving as their living area and bedroom of sorts. It was the first time in weeks that she'd have something with walls of a sort and roof (even if only a canvass one) over her head and as she step through the hole in the wall that served as a door she resisted the urge to sigh in relief as she placed her bag beside the rest of hers and master's inventory.

The whole 'room' had be turned into something close to liveable it seemed thanks to the orc chiefs half-elf slave Sylfine who was currently kneeling on the furs across from her bowing her head as her own master approached her. Missasri had only spoken a little to her, and she seemed friendly despite both their circumstances, but it was her presence was an indirect source of stress when they ended up staying close together; as now with the orc chief removing his armour and she her simple overly large tunic as he approached the beddings. Having lived with the orcs for a while now the sheer shameless of it didn't bother her much anymore, but it worried her as the clan thinking of her as master Karguk bed-slave as well as a 'tame' wizard was a level of protection against such interest from others.

When away from Sparta she'd and her owner had shared a sleeping roll, in the past weeks of course and the previous year when away, but had never demanded such from her. It had been nerve racking at first those many months ago but now she felt safe, or at least as safe as she could feel these days, when getting their rare moment of exhausted sleep. It was a fear of late that her owner would discard her and perhaps bring one such as the warchief and one or two others had done, leaving her to sleep separately with its possible risks in a camp of soldiers. Dismissing the thoughts she glanced at Karguk who had placed his weapons at the top of the 'bed' within arm's reach. "Sir, do you want me to rub your muscles"

"Hnnn?...oh yeah sure Missy, shoulder's aches a bit actually. We can talk while you do, you can tell your opinion on our new recruits and their information in fact...just keep your voice down like usual. Even if Zah is a bit loud" he mumbled back, his voice a bit louder at the last minute while he looked tired as he sat on the edge of the furs and starting to pull of his chainmail. Probably a relief she guessed as they'd slept in their armour most of the time when outside the stronghold and a least hers was a light cloth and leather one.

"Fuck you Karg!" echoed from across the room.

'No one ever mentions how much you smell while adventuring...' she thought kneeling behind the orc and helping Karguk out of the rest of his armour. She'd love to chalk it up to the orcs but her own smell seemed to be just as bad unfortunately '...or the lack of proper sleep. Oh thank you Mystra for something like a bed and a few days rest'

--

When: High Summer 1352DR

Where: South of Sparta

It's been an exhausting few weeks since we've left home and I'm just glad we've settled in for a few days rest in these old ruined houses. Funny thing is we aren't really that far from Sparta as the crow flies, we've been almost zigzagging from one edge of valley to the other (and crossing and re-crossing that bloody river!) to enable us to hit the different bugbear clans. And yet bizarrely enough we've hardly explored it, though the former Thunderblades have some knowledge of it, mostly because the bugbears have been in the way and they tend to eat people who trespass. Well at least they did, they won't be anymore because we've effectively driven the various groups further south, or we've wiped them out if they tried to resist.

And the first few bands did very much try to resist and they are scary fuckers in their own way; they're bigger and stronger than even us orcs, their bat-shit insane with ferocity in battle and they've even got some degree of tactics, especially for ambush. Thankfully though there aren't a whole lot of them in general and they seem incapable of fighting together in groups of more than two or three dozen fighters; and well, we brought just over a hundred and twenty orc warriors, nearly two thirds our current fighting strength with us for this for this. Putting up that number of orc warriors, in actual formations with decent armour backed up goblin and kobold archers? Yeah the results were largely one sided. The only fair fight is the one you lose in the end.

Hell the first lot of bugbears even tried that; two bands forming an alliance of sorts to ambush us (of course) at one of their camps. Problem for them they underestimated our numbers very badly. Too be fair they likely expected the standard orc tribe raid with a few dozen warriors and not the small army with another hundred odd auxiliaries. You thank Zah for the plan, with Ghorza's input even if growling at him all the way. Turns out my best friend is a natural tactician; I may have a past life's knowledge of military history and general education but he has the instincts on the battlefield. That plan of his led to us wiping out that first group with only a handful dead and frankly this campaign has shattered our nearest enemies in less than a season.

It also seems to be attracting recruits from the various bands that have been lurking out here in these badlands of sorts. Cast-offs from clans further south and east it seems that move in and around this area just trying to survive. Not uncommon for orcs my age actually where clans grow past a certain point and are faced with resource constraints. The standard solution; send off the unwanted younger warriors to get their own territory and find their own mates.

It's actually quite a vicious cycle from the past on display in this little valley – we're staying in a ruined village which likely was established while humanity's population grew and military strength allowed groups to expand to what is 'savage' territory so to speak...till their driven back by whatever threat emerges in response. Then, as shown again by these barely surviving warbands of youngsters, 'monster' and goblinoid numbers swell once again and resource competition leads them spilling out of the mountains till they hit a critical mass because their semi-nomadic and a horde forms that surges into the 'civilized' lands till this causes a reaction to wipe them out. Rinse and repeat for centuries again and again.

Which of course leads into my next concern; our new recruits brought word of settlement not too far away, relatively speaking anyway, in a 'hidden' side gully from the valley itself. Either descendants of whoever settled this valley, or it's a bunch of recent settlers who are either really brave, or incredibly stupid, to settle in a place right beside a bunch of people eating bugbears and savage orcs. So there on our target list, assuming our recruits are telling the truth - because if they aren't their heads will decorate a pike if they are.

Now I'm exactly thrilled about raiding this settlement, because really it's not going to be a raid with our numbers, it'll be a conquest of the place. Followed by enslaving the survivors of course, because that's what orcs do. And that unfortunately is the better option because the only other choice is kill them all or dive them out for someone else to kill them as this is a lawless shit-hole.

Honestly I'm not sure what to do. It's for the good of our people as we need someone to do our farming so as to actually make a sustainable settlement here in Sparta. Even in terms of logic that course of action is the best one available to us, to me, when considering the circumstances and the orders from on high. Still it leaves a bad taste in my mouth right now if it is just a bunch of peasants were going to conquer. But what can you do, that's just the nature of the world unfortunately and we can only sand down the sharpest edges as best we can.

--

When: Summer 1352DR

Where: Still South of Sparta, well further than the last entry.

Ran across a bunch of bugbears, a band of the idiots hit one of our scouting parties and killed a dozen or so of the goblins and one or two our boys before other squads came up and wiped them up. Evidently they didn't get the news yet, nor notice the two hundred odd goblinoids marching behind said hunting and scouting party. So no great loss even if the slowed us up a few days finding the rest of them and putting their den to the torch. Still not taking slaves from them, bugbears are basically chaotic stupid evil, even more than most orc tribes and they make badslaves what with the size and ferocity. More powerful creatures can keep them line as vassals but it's harder for an orc clan of current size to do so, and a big risk to have them around. That and the clan and our vassals hate them with a passion, especially after they'd likely eaten family and friends of some of them. Anyway must go, marching time again.

--

When: Harvest season it seems

Where: Southbound, near a fortified village

Well we've arrived and depressingly it's a human village. And weirdly it has that Baldur's Gate look about it (yeah sorry a reference to a past life I'm afraid. No time to explain) in regards RPG villages, well except it's surrounded by a palisade and stake wall. Pretty well located for defence against raids actually, they're up against the valley wall with small plots arranged in the terraces in the rock face above and the village itself is the access point into their little gully.

Though it's just as likely to be a last desperate retrenchment considering we're standing on what is very evidently abandoned farmland and ruins that were probably houses and farm buildings a decade or so ago. There are maybe a hundred people, or just over, in the village the others think when the outskirts were probably for three times that once upon a time. I wonder actually if our home was a castle anchoring a series of small villages like this a century or two ago?

Anyway again I'm rambling and not talking about the relevant points; decent defensive position notwithstanding, and the fact they've noticed our approach, the fact is the defenders are screwed. Yes there are a hundred odd people, but that's including children and non-combatants, while we've twice that in warriors and auxiliaries. That and it looks like there's been recent damage to their walls, either another orc band or the bugbears trying to break in, so with our numbers breaking through shouldn't be too costly for us. As I said it's a grand position against raiders but not against a disciplined force our size. So once we assault the whole place will fall fairly swiftly.

Now in the mean time Missy has suggested a course of action to me other than outright enslaving the village when I'd brought up that I wouldn't force her to fight this time around. Very brave of her in even if she did so in a very submissive way, and been honest she's a bright woman in suggesting a possible way out of me having to sack the village. One that actually works on the benefits of not enslaving them outright and dragging them back to Sparta to setup farms, though it actually makes me feel bad for not considering it in fact. Still it might not work, but I have to make the effort considering it's the least evil option and she stated calmly she'll fight willingly and anything else I want if I'd just at least consider her suggestion and offer mercy. Of a sort anyway. Due to that I argued strongly for the idea, in terms of self interest of course, with Zah and Ghorsa once we arrived here.

Basically the argument is that we turn them into vassals in simple terms. We go up to them at dawn tomorrow (as we can rest during the day if they say no while they'll be awake most of it I'd expect) and offer them a chance to surrender; they hand over a tithe of food and loot to sate the 'raiding' urge of our warriors and then we take similar every year. Feudalism in a nut shell basically. Of course that means leaving a garrison there, but Missy suggested that these small bands might join up if we kept a presence here and to maybe take hostages to keep them in line.

The more I thought on it the better I could sell it – the land here, the abandoned fields, is good fertile land and could grow alot more crops. A small garrison would allow them to farm that land, grow more food, which means a regular supply for us every harvest which would ease any food issues like this year and we actually might get more recruits over time. We've already picked up maybe forty so far after all. It's a bit bare bones but it's an option if they understand how screwed they are.

Zah's indifferent really been honest, says doesn't matter either way to him; we get our loot either way he figures, slaves if it fails, and if it works we expand our territory. Win-win either way in his mind. Ghorza though thinks it's a great idea, with the condition she gets to stay her over the winter with the garrison. Partially to get away from Zah and their antagonism, but mainly I think because she wants to prove herself as a valuable member of the clan considering she joined by being defeated. She's quite desperate to prove herself in many ways I find, and also probably wants to avoid getting a mated in the Midwinter Ceremony; at least till she's proved her use to Ilneval as something other than a baby-maker. Hopefully these villagers listen to our ultimatum, but first rest as need a clear mind later.

--

[Ogrash 03]

Shaman's Tower, Sparta

She tugged her boots on with a yawn while before her the slave Mara held her cloak in readiness. A quick stomp on the stone floor to be sure they were on securely Ogrash stood up, letting the fur cloak flow down her shoulders and clasping the crude brooch with the Cave Mother's symbol at the front to hold it in place. Personally she'd rather be in bed as the little whelp in her belly was proving just as tiring as her own Ma had told her Ogrash herself had made her feel, but being the clan's Priestess had demands of its own. Especially since the Gods themselves were watching them as the ceremony had shown.

"Get dressed Mara, you will come with me today..." she instructed the slave as she stood up adjusting her belt to be more comfortable. Now that her Common was improving she'd stopped muddling up the younger human female's name with her elder sister, who herself was kneeling hands in lap to the side of the bed. Ogrash didn't bother looking back at her as she continued "...you will help me with the Gods-slaves. Kethri, I expect all your chores finished by when I return and food ready"

"Yes Mistress" echoed from both of them as she strode away from the bed they now shared, the younger human following on her heels sliding an oversized tunic over her head as she walked. Disciplining the two was largely unneeded Ogrash found, the odd caning for (those very rare) mistakes of course but both knew their place beneath her and worked hard when ordered. Still she had a preference for the younger one, she was just more intuitive to Ogrash's wishes the cleric found, and usually brought her for tasks outside the Den like now.

Descending the stairs she strode towards the shrine room to the Cave Mother and the start of her duties for the evening. Passing the shrine to the Horde Leader she glanced at it in passing, with her mate and Ghorza absent raiding the bugbears the lower level of the tower had become her domain, albeit if it felt somewhat empty without them. But there was no time for such thoughts as she pushed open the door to Luthic's part of the first floor and was glad to see the six Gods-slave come awake immediately and pushing up to their knees while bowing to her. She glanced at the two young initiates she'd left her with them while the slept "Was there any problems?"

"No Holiness..." the slightly older girl, Gresh'ka, replied bowing slightly and idly Ogrash noted she still found it odd to be treated like this at her age. But then again life was crazy as Karguk would say. "...all was fine, they ate and slept. None woke screaming this time"

"Good, now go get some rest, tell the others to get up and start their exercises. I'll be taking the Gods-slaves to the Keep for training soon" Ogrash replied with a nod at the two relieved looking older children, who scurried out likely eager for either some grub or just sleep.

Glancing back she saw the six slaves were kneeling silently awaiting her orders. Breaking them in had far from the problem the clan had found, the humans who'd planned on sacrificing them to the demons had already down that quite thoroughly in fact, indeed they were actually either desperate to serve or golem-like obedient to orders. No the main difficulty with them had turned out to be getting them to sleep properly due to nightmares, and to be more than dead eyed golems that followed instructions in regards four of them.

Making them only useful for the simplest of tasks...when the Gods had obviously intended them for something more by healing their voices and covering their flesh in blessed symbols from head to toe. It seemed though that bedding them down in the shrine room and with the younger females of the clan had eased the demons that likely haunting their dreams. Further proof of the Gods ownership of them she supposed.

"You have slept well by the will of the Goddess I have been told, this is Good. Now praise her for this gift for your morning rituals and we shall soon begin the days training" she told them calmly and they rose up, re-positioning their kneeling forms around the shrine as they'd been shown by Ogrash and the older females of the clan.

Her slave Mara waited at the door as Ogrash first performed her daily rituals of praise to the Hearth Mother, and for her blessings on the clan. Behind her the six slaves chanted quietly in the background as she'd shown them till she had finished and she felt her tiredness lift, then standing up and allowing the six to perform their prostrate grovelling to the Goddess. The sight of the two elves in particular genuinely praising their true owner was particularly pleasing to Ogrash, as it likely was to the Goddess herself the young priestess guessed by sparing them from the demons. Once the ritual was completed to her satisfaction she had all six follow behind Mara as they left the small shrine-room.

Exiting the tower to the courtyard first for some brief exercising, before then heading over to the Keep, past the young males being drilled relentlessly by those warriors remaining in the stronghold. Those not being trained looked at them curiously, several making reverent signs to the Gods as they walked by, the hateful sun in the sky above finally began to set and the camp starting to bustle with activity for another night.

"Hello Priestess Ogrash, and how are you on this fine evening?" the friendly tone of Zah's mate Breyza greeted her as they walked through the gloomy halls and Ogrash smiled in response "All is well Chief's Daughter Breyza...snort...anyway hello to you too Breyza, being very formal aren't you today?"

Zah's mate grinned strolling forward with a wave "Oh just practice, Da has been on to me about it since I'm a Chief's first wife now and all that. Do you mind if I watch you today? Da won't let me practice with the warriors anymore thanks to my lovely mate. Not even here and causing me hassle" she said patting her belly, just like Ogrash's own it was starting to bulge out slightly.

Ogrash snorted in amusement "That's Zah I'm afraid, even when he's not right beside you he's making your life difficult. Your welcome to come, we can discuss matters during the training..." waving her to follow them "...do you want anything for the whelp?"

Breyza thankfully was a reasonable female and had easily understood the necessity of working with Ogrash to build upon the current leadership of the clan and to weaken, or eliminate, any potential rivals that might emerge to their respective mates. Unsurprisingly really, in the Thunderblades part of Sparta clan before joining she and her father the old, now co-chief, Breyjuk had been involved in a power struggle with Priest of Gruumsh for control of the clan as he aged. Becoming Zah's mate at first had been a means to tilt that struggle in their favour, now with that threat eliminated it meant she had a future with some voice in her clan's future. With Zah and Karg friends, and Ogrash herself Priestess of Luthic, befriending all three would make, (her and their) positions as clan leaders very hard to assail.

"Maybe some herbs for the stomach, fuckin' throwin' up pisses me off, though could you get one of the crones to look at my slave Marya? She seems slow to show signs of her own whelp. Want to make sure our whelp in her belly is ok firstly, and then if she'll be fine to be milk-mother to both'em when they drop"

"Aye no worries, I think either Leshjaja dropped a half-breed before according to the stories Ma gave and I'm sure she or Kugrash oversaw a few slave whelpings at least. If there's a problem I'll call upon the Cave Mother, she'll likely listen to aid a Chiefs whelp" Ogrash answered honestly, her own knowledge was only beginning in truth and she'd had to fall back on the old crones of the clan for advice and training beyond healing and the basic rituals.

"Really...one was forced to mate with a human?...how'd that happen?" Breyza asked slightly scandalised at the thought of an orc female bearing a humans whelp. Yes the whelp was a proper orc of course but it was just...weird.

Ogrash snorted "Oh not taken by human Breyza! Leshjaja was quite the scandalous female when she was our age Ma says. Always out on raids, beating up the weaker males, stabbing people who annoyed her...being like Ghorza basically..." she grinned as Breyza guffawed at the thought of Karguk's subordinate shaman and her verbal clashes with Zah. Ogrash pitied Karg and having to deal with the two and their bitter arguments during the raiding "...but she's supposed to have eh...conquered...a few human males she'd defeated in those raids and when she traveled on an adventure according to Ma. There's a reason she never became Priestess despite all her skills with herbs and whelpings"

They chatted away on the various other dark tales of their former clans as they went up the rituals room of the Keep. Mara and the six Gods-slaves followed along behind silently in the fire illuminated shadows of the cook-fires preparing the nights fare for the young warriors practicing outside. It had taken effort but the larders were nearly full and more would be brought in during the coming season before the warriors with Karg and Zah returned. She had prayed for the Goddess to watch over them and grant them strength along with Karg's own patron deity while they raided for the clan's future. They did their part and she would do hers by ensuring that stronghold was kept strong and secure while they were away, like any good female for their mate and their clan would.

"Mara fetch a bowl of boiled water and roots of a..." she instructed once they'd arrived her dozen or so acolytes began to arrive into the room to begin the training for the night...

--

[Karguk 08]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

It wasn't much of village, but in its own way it was superior to what our own stronghold was at the moment. It had actual stone buildings for instance, including a small smithy and temple to Chauntea. Though in all honesty they were just using the relics of the past as much as we were with our home; these buildings were old and partially rebuilt in what had once been a much larger settlement decades ago. Of course it was currently a quite depressing place to be I found with the terrified townsfolk huddled together while clutching, and trying to quieten, their sobbing children. The presence of heavily armed orc warriors standing around them tended to have that effect after all.

Yeah nothing like making a small child while clutching a doll to let you know your being the asshole bad guy of the story. All I could do was tell myself that this was the better outcome, the least evil option where we weren't slaughtering their parents, then dragging them back as slaves to our stronghold. The choice to give in really hadn't been much of one for the villagers. Yes there were just a little over a hundred of them, and yes they had defenses of a sort to keep us out but...

'Not enough actual fighters amongst the lot of them' I thought glancing around in a mixture of sadness and relief at the farmers and their children. After all if they had enough then this would have been a complete bloodbath when they tried to resist us. As in Sparta, and most orc tribes, the population of women outnumbered the men somewhat; when you factored in the children and the old they could scrap together just over twenty 'fighters', thirty if you factored in the boys. Even then it was less 'fighters' and more hunters/farmers/peasants with spears and homespun clothing versus six foot something orcs in chainmail armed backed up by low level spell-casters.

"Well that was easy wasn't it eh Karg?" Zah was saying looking around his new conquest as our warriors began to encamp around, and inside, the village. Ghorza beside me was doing the same, though more focused on studying the humans than the village buildings as Zah was doing, just behind us Missy was busy just staring at anywhere but the villagers. Trying to focus on happy thoughts I nodded in agreement as he continued "...so what we doin' now guys?"

"Well since we got the place intact I now want to keep intact for Ghorza here to have a place to stay over the winter..." I answered taking off my helmet and wiping the sweat on my forehead away. It was a hot summer's day and standing around in armour wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world I found "...that and I reckon we can encamp here for the next few weeks and make sure the bugbears don't decide to change their mind about running away from us. This looks a decent spot to hold the south of the valley, and we're as well waiting to for this lot to pull in the harvest before we head back home"

Ghorza was quick to agree, unsurprisingly really since she was the one going to have to stay here over the next few months; and the longer we stayed, the more work would be done, and thereby the easier the stay would be for her. In truth this was the part that always bored Zah as it did most orc war-chiefs, and there was a reason the actual logistics of running a stronghold or village was often left to the shamans and priests. Oggy had said that Zah loved fighting and fucking, followed by doing the more traditional chiefly things; looking impressive and being a warrior's warrior. Duties outside of that...not so much.

This was quite apparent now as we talked and the general gist of the conversation drifted to me and Ghorza being put in charge of securing our new conquest and he went off and helped the warriors' setup camp and plan out patrols. Meaning he wanted to go off and train, poke around the surrounds for bit before going to bed to shag his half-elf while the two shamans actually did all the boring stuff of seeing to the new regime here. Truth be told though I was fine with that, at least with him busy he wasn't deciding to recruit for his little harem amongst the surrendered villagers.

"So now our energetic Chief has gone off to drink and then fuck his pet, do you want to talk about how we're supposed to actually make this place work Boss?" Ghorza stated bluntly as ever after Zah strolled away towards our previous day's encampment. Wisely, unlike me who'd only taken it off now, she'd forsaken the helmet altogether and let her long black hair flow freely down her shoulders to take advantage of the faint breeze while continuing to study the village around us. Most significantly the middle aged human woman and a younger girl standing uneasily near the 'temple' in greenish coloured robes with red flower and yellow lines I figured were went to a grain wreath. A farming community worshipping Chauntea as its patron deity, call me shocked.

I sighed "And you want to know what we're to do with them I suppose firstly?"

"Yes, the old one has powers and she trains an acolyte. How am I to deal with them? We swore by Foe-smiter to not harm them if they obey but I..." started then shrugged as if to indicate confusion.

I wasn't surprised, the kobolds, and smaller number of goblins, we brought with us had no clerics of their own with them owing to the hatred between certain Gods in the pantheons so that issue hadn't arose there yet. That and Ghorza had been the only cleric in her clan till becoming part of ours, who had the same patron deity, and her only real experience dealing with clerics of other Gods was Oggy, and the now dead idiots of the One-Eye and the Leg-Breaker. Basically what she was used to was a cleric of a Goddess who usually stayed out of the male orc Gods pissing contests, and every other non-Ilneval cleric plotting against us, and/or to kill us.

"Hmmmm...well,...hmmm, to tell the truth the Boss and their Goddess don't have much issue with each other to my understanding..." I began as honestly as I could. If it had been one of the Seldarine or other traditional enemies of orcs like Mielikki then I'd have an issue...then again they won't have surrendered in the first place with a God/Goddess like that, so mote point I figured "...Chauntea likes to grow things, her clerics help grow things, and we want this lot to grow things for us...so win-win I suppose if we work it right"

Ghorza looked embarrassed a moment, or at least she looked like was by doing that fidgety play with her hair thing she did "I...do...haaaa...I do not know much of the Gods of our foes Karguk...is this Goddess like the Cave Mother, except for weaker peoples?"

I frowned in thought "Umm...sorta, maybe, kinda?...they do call her the Great Mother but she doesn't do the whole fertility thing so maybe not?...but don't they have the whole Greengrass thing which is like Midwinter...hmmm...but she does the who cycles of life so I suppose...and they usually wouldn't be warrior clerics...unless their rangers, but doesn't look the sort..." I blinked, I was getting side-tracked here again on not relevant subjects "...oh sorry just thinking out loud. And to answer the question to a degree except more emphasis on having lots of food growing rather than fertile females. But the main thing is she's the real village leader not the old dude, so keep her in line and keep our, your, new minions in line"

"Well of course..." she agreed with a nod "...the shaman in any village does all the true work to keep the tribe strong while the chief gets all the glory"

I ignored that, motioning us forward towards the true human village leader "Anyway, firstly we'll be setting up a shrine to Ilneval in their temple alongside their Goddess's the same way we have in the Keep with Luthic's back in Sparta. Let them worship away in peace but the Boss will be grumpy at us if we don't get a shrine for him up in the wake of our taking over. And I'd rather not have a visitation to chew me out over shirking my duties..." I answered back resisting the urge to shudder. Because the odds are he would show up just to glower threateningly at me even though I'd do exactly what he wanted in raiding the bugbears and now capturing a village to feed our clan. The Chauntean cleric watched us warily as we approached; her apprentice though was obviously terrified and barely holding it together from the looks of it "...and then we can start expanding the fortifications and the village itself to make room for us at the moment, and then your wintering garrison. And for any other warbands that wander in of course"

"Hello again...ehh..." I awkwardly greeted the cleric whose name I'd realised I'd forgotten. After all how does one exactly say to someone 'Hello I have conquered your village, terrified your people and now wish to perform my heathen, and evil, God's rituals in your most holy place! Mind lending me a hand?'

Pretty much impossible really without being the bad guy in the scenario; though I'm pretty sure I am even if this is the best that could be hoped for. So I bravely struggled onwards trying to project confidence even if gruffly "...it will be night soon and we are going to set a shrine for our warriors to thank the Horde Leader for our victory in your temple. I do not want to disturb your Goddess's so I need you to help us make room for this village's additional patron deity. Then your people can swear oaths and get to bed"

The woman looked positively ill at the words, and still look as surprised as earlier at the fact our Common Tongue was more than 'Give Now! Do what say! Rarrghh!'. Still she nodded slowly as I motioned at their little temple and tried to ignore the dozens of poor wretches around us whose lives I'd just turned upside down by bringing our clan to this valley. Still I figured I may get used to it – we were going to be here till the harvest and I could escape back home...

--