In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

7. Entry 7

When: Start Winter 1352DR

Where: My Tower, Sparta

Alive! Alive! I'm still alive, and that comes as quite the surprise.

Especially after the bloody Death Knight blew through all our initial preparations and defences like they were made of paper. Still thankfully the bastard took alot of damage in the doing so, and the rest of the battle gets blurry after that. Bits and pieces of memory, chanting, magic, that sword burning and that unnatural presence of our jolly friend Baron Crazy-Pants the Unholy. Still he's dead now, or well more dead I suppose, and we've at long last cleared out that third floor.

Whatever magic was binding him was evidently either powering or boosting the rest of the undead, the weakest ones simply disintegrated after his fall while the more dangerous ones got alot easier to kill. That's taken us nearly a whole day clearing out and we took losses. So many needless deaths; twenty-three clan orcs in total, which is hit but the clan doesn't seem to care, everyone's in party mode over our 'victory', or at least are planning one for tomorrow. All us who fought are too bloody exhausted to do anything of the sort right now. First comes some sleepy-time I believe.

I can barely hold the quill right now, so I'll get back to this later.

Sleepy-time now

--

When: Winter 1352DR

Where: Shaman's Tower

Twenty-four dead is the tally now, and about as many injured; though they should recover now we gave the worst healing after praying and getting some rest. Wonders of Faerun I suppose; battlefield casualties and what are essentially mortal wounds can be pulled back from the edge and recovered. And we need that, I know we're growing but taking a big hit like that is hard thing for any clan, especially when several of the best veteran warriors were among the dead. I knew several of them, evil bastards some of them but they were my clan and I can't help but feel sorrow at the loss.

Anyway I've had a few days to rest, as had Oggy and, to a lesser extent, Missy who now seems to be bunking with us now like on campaign. It was explained to me by Oggy but I was too tired to either care or listen, and now it's a bit late to ask why, other than guessing it's to do with young Rose sleeping in Missy's former spot in the room. All I know is Oggy gets to play Queen of the Castle and boss Missy and the others around and that keeps her happy, which makes me happy (cuz she's not trying to boss me around) as long as she doesn't harm them. So I'm rested and have had time to consider, and review the third level.

On the basic side we've destroyed every single piece of weapon and armour from Baron Crazy-pants and put the ruins into a ward covered chest till Midwinter and have Oggy pull a blessing and purification ceremony. Also the other junk from the more dangerous undead joined that scrap along with salting and burning the bones; I've no idea if that'll help but what the hey. We've scoured the third level for any stragglers, or hidden traps, wards or phylacteries and we seem to be clear in that regards. It's relatively apparent now that some sort of ceremony took place there a long time; the undead largely maintained the place as it was would you believe? Nigh unkillable evil abomination it might have been, but in truth it seemed to have been trapped in a delusion I think that it was living a 'normal' everyday existence. Though there are...problems. I'll get to them in a little bit, but first unto results.

The first thing is; Clan morale is sky-high and my own position is very secure, and just as importantly, or more-so, my reforms have showed tangible benefits. We've crushed our orcish enemies, wiped out the bugbears, subjugated the surrounding valley regardless of species, and now just destroyed the unholy abomination to finally make the stronghold all our own. So our clan is slowly, ever so slowly, getting into a mindset of something other than me standing over them all the time trying to prevent their evil savage tribal ways. Hey its a step (a small one I admit) from barbarism to quasi-civilised.

Secondly not so good is the fact that the loot from the Third Floor was...less than beneficial right now. Tons of gold and silver that are effectively worthless right to us was there, so it'll join the big pile of useless treasure we've already accumulated. We need to trade, badly, to get this shiny worthless shit into something useful like weapons, tools or cattle. Though it does explain something I always wonder – why were dungeons and such always filled with shinies for murder-hobos to quest for?

Well it's because gold is basically shiny useless crap when one needs the basics of survival or proper metal that can stop a blade killing you.

Weapons were the poorest showing...in a way. There was tons of weapons and armour between the bodies and within the floor itself, it was just rotted and rusted for normal stuff after two or so centuries of sitting there. And any weapon in great repair from an undead is suspect and got destroyed because I don't want my clan-orcs turning into future Death Knights or ghouls. Now there was a selection of weapons found in one of the locked rooms, along with long dead armoured skeletons that were clearly not raised, that are plainly magical - and look like my shiny fire sword. They're on the list (with everything else) to be identified but if I had to hazard a guess I'd say their like mine and probably unusuable by most of my clan-orcs. Fucking yahhhh...

There are some weapons collected that might be useful, but identifying them will take time and I need make sure first. Because we found spell-books down there in the rotted remnants of dozens of books in some sort of study/research lab/who knows just off the main room. Or ritual room if what I think is true is actually true. Ancient spell-books according to Missy...Ancient Spell-Books that are in pristine fucking condition; they look like they were just written yesterday even if can't really read them yet. Because they are Old, Old, Old, Books and the Boss has been very clearly railroading me and the possible story behind this place concerns me now we've cleared out that floor and come across a mystery. Well less a mystery and more "WTF I wasn't expecting that"

Yeah here is the trouble. The Third Floor is not the bottom floor of this place. Hell it's not even the third floor technically of anything; it's like the fourth I think. It does explain why the doorways lock downward and not upward though which seemed strange. And the weird design choices of the first sub-level compared to the stronghold itself and to the floors below it. After all why design a castle where you can get locked into the basement by attackers?

Well turns out, yeah, the old castle ruin is built about atop another ruin. As in a town of some sort, a really, really old town that got buried and the large hilly were on is an old tower or keep or something several stories tall...just buried. So we're a castle built atop a castle, go figure. I know this because the floor below the floor below was been excavated by the previous owners – and likely where THEY found those books. And then became zombies; so yeah a concern there because was it intentional or an 'oops you are now an undead horror' just from dumbass utilization. That and we found a display (an old, old display) of a town in the 'lab' of our destroyed friend, covered in dust of ages but I think it's of the original settlement were on.

See what I think happened here was the current stronghold was built here by whoever the dudes were who took this valley a few centuries ago from the local barbarians (orc, goblin, uthgard, amazon, whatever) and establish a castle with villages. I'd guess Dwarves and Humans by the dwarven letter but human sizes for the stronghold and the first sub-level. So they build their castle with basement, build their villages and so on, for however long that period was. Rose doesn't know, hell all she has from the fall of this area into ruins is the old stories of Baron Crazy-pants that may or may-not be true. So this place went on for however long, years, decades, whatever, till someone decided to expand the basement because the work there isn't dwarven, it's human from the letter in the staircase. So they dig down – and break through the roof of this buried castle...and then expand into it.

Hence the weird length and shape of the stairs from first to second floor compared to second to third and now third to forth. That and the architecture is radically different to anything above it. So they start excavating, third, fourth, fifth, etc, etc...but really it's battlements going down on this place and they discover bits and pieces. Powerful bits and pieces in fact, and then Baron Crazy-pants comes along. From her stories he seems to have been a 'good' ruler till his wife, or daughter, or sister died and he went crazy and locked himself in the castle in grief. And then one night a terrible storm happened (of course it did!) and then dead walk and start kidnapping villagers till the villagers plus heroes drive them back, yadda, yadda, yadda...then we finish him off. So I'm leaning towards intentional misuse powerful magic by a rank amateur to resurrect a loved one most likely.

Good news I suppose is were not connected to the Underdark most likely. Bad news is we're atop a 'town' (though small city would be a more accurate description by 'modern' faerun standards) which I think was built by magical earth moving. No seams in the walls, it's perfectly smooth after centuries, or millennia. It's easy tell what was brought down there and what was original let's say; nothing creepy mind you, just different design philosophies that even I could notice after a few days. And then someone buried this town a long time ago without destroying the buildings (or at least the Keep) which have magic resistant wards I think – spells don't damage the stonework let's say. Wards can go on them, but the surface is pristine still after blows. That implies, well, old, old. Pre-Mystra old I think. Maybe this is one of nameless civs Nethoril wiped out, or ancient elves as this place is humanoid height, or it was who the fuck knows...

Whatever the case I've a buried town beneath us that's really really fucking old and evidently was being excavated by the previous owners when they were actually still alive a century of two ago. A town that someone buried and turned into a series of hills and fields. I've got spell-books that could be powerful but could screw everything up easily enough. I've weapons I either haven't identified yet, or most likely can't use because 'orcs are evul ummkayyy'. And then there's all the useless shiny shit that we've no one to trade with for useful things. Oh and most importantly the Boss almost certainly has a PLAN (that he's not telling me about) that involves him risking nothing, and us risking alot, just so he can get a powerful pawn a few years from now...

I should be celebrating out success, and I did too a degree, but I'm also pragmatic about the nature of who we serve and lack of concrete benefits from winning this 'adventure' into the 'dungeon'. A dungeon with more dungeons beneath it in fact; Joy.

So I'm off to drink now.

Slan go foill a chara.

--

When: Witters, Years of Dwagon.

Where? The happys place!

Whys it year of the dragons? Did a dwagon do something?

Holy Books say nothings about dragons doin' things this years so whys Year of the Dagon?

Dragon, dwaon, funky dragon, dragonbal...

Anywho I don't twink we couldssss kill a dragon, or dwagon or whoevers you spill it. Thoughs we kills a death knight ands alls his zombie minions. Why don't I have minions? I'd like to have minions. Not wombie ones because that'd be shite. Or at least mions thats I don't have to stands over alls the times to stop them doin' evulz shite for the lulz. Youse knowings howsss hards its to keep dis lots in line?

Holy shit is it hard. And then theys makes youse drinkings whens we should bes works. Even if drunkings is awesomes and I feels awesome cuz nobodies dyings this times arounds in our post-post victory/Zah has another sprog celebrations!

Congradumalations Zah I'll says agains! Because nows we boths sreweds togethers in beens totally losts wiz them babbies. Who'd a thunks its ehs?

Anyheys, whelp asides, I was write! Horribly, horribly right about thems there swords!

Shiny swords but good people swords. And I'm surrounds by nots goods peoples. Wells they cares about mes and themselves and others buts not in more than like 'good' goods because fuks others peoples nots us iz theirs views. So Like Lawfuls Nutals at bestests, buts I thunks Laws of Evils. Wats are the Laws of Evulz i wonders?

Is there puppy kickin' requirements? Lolth probably does that as a rule. Skanky ass psycho drow bitxh needs a good shankin' is what I say. And Cyrrics too, cuz he fucks up evartins soons as well. Sees I'm ots evils. Greater Goods ands alls thats! Ah we had a great sing-song on that – the Getter goods of fukkin over dem Gods damned evils dirt elfies and the racist urface cousin elfies toos!

Oh yeah swords. Anywhots we checking's swods and theys are my sword. All shtuff de same and it is awesome. But no one to use'em propers! Where amma gonna finda Paladin Orcs? And I've mountains ah crap ta sudy and edify as well! The Luskie stuffs and the raidy stuffs and hidden city stuffs! So much stuffs. Missy agrees, don't you missy? Of course!

NOTE!!! Iz whys I'm righting tdis!

Checks weres dwist does urden goes xuz wens was singins bouts kilns drows iz remembers hes and his murder-yobo freds gointa crags and fits the uthgyers! And wez fits unthergetters nows! Don't wants crazy magic elf dodes with magic shords comin here and feckin ups shite! Members in games he crazyyyyyy strongs! Makes plan s okays!

Awesome snows I go have funs and stuffs. Not sleeps need alls!

--

When: Winter, 1352 Dale Reckoning.

Where: Stronghold of Sparta

Thank you my past drunken self for making me aware of a possible future danger I can do little about being in this general neck of the world in the coming years. Thankfully the Crags are a significantly far away from Sparta distance-wise, in relative local terms, and no reason to bother us. Though I have made a note for that period of not to attack a band made of a Drow, Dwarf, and various angry humans; Operation Leave Well Enough Alone we'll call it.

It also shows that, in addition to everything else I need to study over the winter, I need to brush up on my past (well future) knowledge as stuff has faded in my mind somewhat and that is bad as we come up to the Gotterdammerung in a few years. Because, well, next year we'll be back in campaign mode once gain along with meeting with the other large orc stronghold warchiefs evidently. That'll be fun, or not. Winter is the 'free time' period in many ways and there are many things to be magically figured out and magic to be learned.

--

When: Still Winter, getting colder in fact, Year 1352DR

Where: My Tower

Also a discovery it's the first of The Black Chronology, aka Shar's Super-duper Plan for Conquest and Epic Loot (Which Fails of Course and Screws up Everything for Everyone), but at least that problem is a threat beyond my pay-grade. Challenging an ancient evil Goddess with naught but what is essentially a sharp pointy metal stick that sets itself on fire is generally a bad idea let's say. My pay-grade currently it seems is barbarians, wizards, other orcs, and of course evidently unholy abominations from beyond the grave as of a little while ago; most of which my sharp pointy metal stick and fire have...mostly...worked on just fine. Though of course I'm dreading this year's job report to the Boss as always, I may have succeed the more important question is have I succeeded enough?

Anyway, away from the happy thought, the stronghold is slowly entering hibernation mode and the weather is getting worse; cold, wet and miserable. Though it hasn't turned bad enough to make hunting or patrolling impossible as yet, we've even got a patrol in from Ghorza with general words of how things are going. Basically boiled down to the fact she'd executed one of warriors for falling out of line, recruited another dozen and a half stragglers who she sent to us, and that food stores are adequate for the winter and beyond. All very good, and I know I can trust her to keep the place in-line; it's in her self-interest and she's out to prove herself as valuable to the clan. She doesn't give a damn about the welfare of the villagers beyond that – but I can trust that ambition and self-interest of hers to want a successful, peaceful, village in-line with my own orders. Her hitting on me while I was there is weird proof of that.

Which is now another problem of course, Oggy annoying me to 'hurry up and prove myself' in her words; ie when am I gonna start actually getting more females to bed. For a non-orc reader this might seem strange a wife demanding this of her husband. That's because you didn't grow up in a primarily parochial patriarchical tribal society where respect is earned by a combination of power, physical strength and direct trappings of power, and this applies to the mates of powerful males as well. Especially with Oggy who's the Head Priestess of a Fertility Goddess.

Because while on surface it's a thoroughly male dominated society, but beneath the surface it must remembered the males are away much of the year and much of the actual clan logistics is done by them. Which means the senior females – ie the head wives in many cases and they themselves oft use the other wives as minions of a sort and a show of their own power to 'keep them in-line' so to speak. That and babies are a divine mandate of a sort, all I've done with lovely little Kargash is buy myself some time. So just to show how influenced this can be by the Church of Luthic (that would by Bossy Oggy by the way) I've been given a pretty firm list of who's-who; the slave Mara is there because Oggy wants a walking milk bottle for our [future] children and the fact Mara is her 'favourite' (ie most obedient). Ghorza's there too, mostly to firm up our political situation and have a strong combat element on our side.

Yeah it's all about build a powerbase for us and our children; the more the clan grows the more it happens. Hello Crusader Kings 2. A reference sadly you my reader won't get, but let's just say it really puts harem mechanics from some idiots dreams to 'military campaign' in some ways. Not my ideal scenario and honestly I've been a quasi-hiding from discussing it with Oggy more than needed. Mostly by investing in my magic studies with Missy and the various Battlestaves, and by meeting with Zah and Old Breyjuk for training and plans for handling our fellow orc clans. I'm pleased to report training is going really well, and we've managed not to kill any of the new recruits as we beat the Chaotic Stupid Evil out of them and turn them from lazy puppy kickers into hardworking puppy kickers. Though at least now they'll only indulge in the puppy kicking when we allow them with orders.

On another note; identifying the stockpile, the growing stockpile I might add, of items is slow progress as its hard to know if something is powerful or not till you start trying. Those glasses from last year we're still unsure of and I'm wary of experimenting with potentially hazardous artefacts in a world where there are evil copies of seemingly harmless magical items like the bag of holding that can try and eat you. And of course there are the Spell-Books – I've done my best to secure them behind wards and lockbox but I need to keep them quiet as well from outsiders.

I'm not particularly worried about the general clan-orcs spilling beans, but ambitious young Battlestaves are a potential concern, but more-so to find out more about them I need to reach out. Missy for one, but I keep her close, but I need other magic users; and right now that's kobold sorcerers, goblin and orc shamans and other possible mish-mash spell-casters. But opening up risks word getting out to places like the Host-Tower (who we're already sorta at war with), or the Harpers (with walking WMD in the shape of Big E and the Blackstaff) or the Zhents...or a dozen other organisations. Unfortunately we need to trade as well in the future so I need to find some way to manage this somehow. While I juggle everything else as well; joy.

You know what?...time to work with Missy again on boosting my arcane magic skills.

--

[Wifne 02]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

In truth she didn't know how to feel at the idiocy laid out before her, an idiocy that had dragged her from her bed several hours ago and had could have threatened to send the whole village into violence. Fear of the orcs here was ever present since they'd arrived, though the rather brutal execution of one of the orcs by the shaman herself for 'rule breaking' had eased the terror slightly. But still the presence of the armoured and fear inspiring warriors mean everyone kept an eye out for each other, and children and the unmarried girls were always chaperoned now. That and the female shaman Ghorza was quite intimidating in general, and unlike her superior who had taken their surrender and departed for the castle, had little to no sympathy for 'weaklings' it seemed.

Oh she was respectful to Wifne herself to some degree, likely due to them both been clerics and the age difference, but from everyone else she expected complete obedience instantly. Or she would start roaring and snarling threateningly at the very best, though violence seemed reserved for her orcs as no villager would willingly cross her. Roaring and snarling she was doing this very minute as they stood in the outside the orc shaman's rebuilt house at the terrified form of three young orc girls...and the (till now) missing sheepherder, Stuth's son, Egar - all of which were in some form of undress and covered in dirt. Behind her she could feel the barely restrained urge to burst into laughter, mixed with maybe outrage, from the terrifying orc soldiers in faintly clinking armour.

Egar looked to her in mute appeal, and while she did in fact have a great deal of sympathy for the boy she stared back with a hard gaze she reserved for troublemakers till he returned to huddling up to the three beside him and staring at floor fearfully. Unsurprising Wifne Humbletree found as the orc shaman was roaring in orcish and the three orc girls were also cowering; clutching at Egar is if he would somehow protect them from the older orcs evident wrath. It was so comical in Wifne's eyes it she had to restrain the urge to snort in bemusement and remind herself of the seriousness of the matter, and of how exactly she was going to explain this to her villagers come the dawn. While also to find a way how to stop a repeat of this insanity here, and now, before it had a less comical, and more horrible, result.

'Oh Goddess, and we were so careful with the girls of the village and overlooked orc girls might be as bad in their own way' she mused tiredly as the shaman Ghorza smacked the face of one of the teenagers that evidently got up a little courage only to whimper back behind Egar in the aftermath. From what she'd discovered the three girls here had in fact attacked Egar when he was in herding the village sheep in the hills behind the village. Something the boy had resisted evidenced by the black eye on him, and a matching one on one of the orc girls along with bruises on the others, till they'd tied him up slightly...

...and then dragged him a little bit away from the herd into some high grass and small trees with him struggling and fighting all the way...till he realised what they wanted to do with him. At which point young Egar became fast friends with these three orc girls, even if their language skills were adequate at best, and then became an enthusiastic supporter of this debauchery plan of theirs. Hence the state the orcs Ghorza had sent looking for them had found them in before dragging them here before her and Wifne.

The three orc girls was gazing terrified at the Ghorza as she finished up, shaking their heads but evidently too scared to speak as the chainmail clad orc woman switched to Common "Well now Shaman Humble-trees these three idiots have told everything and it is similar to this poor excuse for a male's words. They disobeyed my orders, simple orders, and disobeyed Boss Karguk's orders and they have to be punished harshly for this. No one breaks my orders; I am law here in the Horde Leader's name after all. I killed that fool warrior for just talking of this thing not long ago yes? So I should kill these three yes?"

"Is...that...really necessary Shaman Ghorza?...Egar was not...entirely unhappy...with the attention he says. Would some other less deathly punishment suit them? They are but stupid children barely adults yet" Wifne found herself asked softly, somehow faintly horrified at the thought of the three orc teenagers before her getting beheaded or tortured to death. If it had been the older warriors she wouldn't be concerned, but over the years she had seen idiocy like this before her own parishioners. Lera and Sagaf Ashfall had been caught in similar circumstances when she herself was younger, and now she almost saw Lera's face those green-skinned inhuman, but terrified, faces.

Ghorza snorted looking at the four then back at Wifne "Hmmmm...well they are dumb idiots and not warriors who were warned that death would come, but they need to be punished for this, harshly. Hmmm...no, then let this be left to their male. They have chosen him and their to do with as he pleases I think..." she spoke softly but threatening at the small group, tusks on her mouth making her sneer even more fearful as she poked a finger in Egar's chest "...yes your responsibility useless male. So I let you decide as their male for females who break clan rules. Oh yes that be fun won't it brats?" she glared at the three cringing creatures "...so little human should I chop your new...friends...heads off for breaking rules and attacking you heh?"

The boy just stood there a mixture of confused and terrified till a glare from Wifne seemed to snap him out of it "No, please...it...we...just...I...it was just some fun...they shouldn't die for it" whispering out of his mouth at the silent begging from the three clutching around him and evidently aware their lives hung by a thread. Wifne suspected that this Ghorza was enjoying bully and threatening the three, smarter than the average orc she seemed but exactly a nice person she was not she'd found. All she cared about Wifne suspected was in making this situation and the village work to her own best interests.

"Heh, like'm do ya? Well then you need punish'em since you think your there male..." Ghorza sneered back "...so you're going to give them ten lashes each tomorrow before all the warriors, the horde leader and your fellow humans. Seems were having a little Midwinter Festival early, ah...isn't that sweet?" she continued gruff orcish voice dripping sarcasm then snarling more in orcish to the three orc girls before snapping something at the guards, then returning back to the Common Tongue "Go with the guards and take your females, and if they try run off, I'll make sure they lose a head instead of a few love taps weakling"

Wifne stayed quiet as the guards dragged away the small group to the 'prison' of sorts here in the camp, it wouldn't help in anyway and at least Egar was safe for now and everything kept peaceful when the sun rose. She would tell his parents once she could leave here that he was fine, and warn of what was going to be a village spectacle tomorrow for them. And then have to keep the rest of her villagers in line during it; though she doubted there would be an issue, if anything the sight of some orcs been whipped for a day's fears caused would be greeted with welcome by many of them sadly. Shaman Ghorza watched as they were brought away into the darkness of the night before turning back to Wifne.

"I assume you can keep your kind in order now shaman? Your missing male is found, he is unharmed and I'm even been merciful to those three idiots. Though I admit some amusement at it; they remind me of a dumber version of me when I was younger, of course I would not have got caught. So I expect delivery of those barrels of ale will be on time?"

"Yes Shaman Ghorza, of course, there will be no trouble I promise, and all tithes will be ready as ordered" Wifne answered back calmly. All the tribute demanded by the orcs had been handed over so far, and hopefully the alcohol would keep them entertained when the snows came in and they grew bored. It had been hard on the village to see so much hard work be stolen from underneath them, but better the loss of a little than the loss of everything. And at least these orcs seemed to keep the other orcs and monsters away without cause too much harm to the village.

"Good, the snows will come soon and then all will be inside for a while. Booze will keep the idiots busy at least, and that means I don't have to spend all my time standing over them with my sword..." Ghorza stated looking off into the darkness that Wifne could not see through in the direction of the castle of the village's new overlords "...and I need to impress the Boss orc. So if you keep been good little humans I'll stay keeping you all safe and working away for the...Greater Good...as Karguk says. The Horde Leader has given me visions before, and I was a fool who did not understand. But now I do, a great change is coming you know, and glory awaits all who serve. Serve well, like the Boss orc wants, and you shall see it, he is strange, but then all Gods touched think strangely I believe and..."

Wifne resisted shivering at the random tangent. Her little flower Rose was with that 'Gods-touched' orc and the thought of a Gods Chosen was a fearful thing. Even those of Good deities could be destructive in their ways according to the legends she had heard, because Gods clashing often meant their avatars or chosen clashing as well. All she wanted was for her village to prosper quietly and her harmless little granddaughter returned safe and sound along with the other 'guests' as the orc had called them. Every night she prayed to the Goddess to keep them safe and this talk was not what she liked to hear. Still she reminded herself, harming them was not in the orcs interest, and it wasn't like they were off fighting the Unholy Baron and his foul minions now were they?

The winter would pass, the new spring come and seeds of the future harvest would be planted she reminded herself as she listened to the orc shaman and uncomfortably entered into a bizarre philosophical debate on the Gods themselves. Since Ghorza's superior had left her question on the nature of Gods and powers other than her own had continued, 'seeking to learn more of her foes' she said. It was...

--

[Zahgorim 09]

Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

"Ughhh...can't I just rest some more?" Zahgorim grunted continuing to lay back on the fur beddings enjoying the sight of his mate as she pushed herself up from beside him. She of course merely looked back at him with an annoyed glance and a snort.

"Unfortunately not Zahgorim, you are the Chief remember?" she stated running her claws through her black hair while snapping her free hand for the slave Marya to get take their bawling whelp in hand and feed him. Obediently his human slave struggled up to a standing position while holding her swollen belly as she waddled over to do as she was told. Oggy and the old crones said she'd drop the whelp in the next week or so at the latest, but till then she was more sluggish than before he'd left at the end of spring and somehow that was his fault according to Breyza. Grumbling as he pushed the furs off his body he was at least glad to note the room was still somewhat warm.

"Uggghhh...yes and it was much more fun when it was just fuckin' and fightin' than having to get up early during winter for boring stuff"

Another amused snort was the reply to him "Heh, Father whined about that too when he thought I wasn't looking as a whelp, but No, being Chief is more than just those things and bashing heads. So, slave, help him get cleaned up..." she ordered the kneeling half-elf slave Sylfine as she stode across the room towards some meat on the table, throwing a fur cloak around her shoulders as she moved "...and into his armour"

Zahgorim stood up and stretched a little, yawning as his half-elf scurried over to grab the bucket of water and cloth for a well drilled routine. A quick rub down on sweaty limbs and he slung the various 'everyday' cloth coverings, followed by the chainmail and allowed Sylfine to help him tighten the various straps it fit snugly upon him. At the least the ache had gone out of his muscles from the bruising battle that horrid glowing skeleton monster and it's equally horrid walking-dead minions had given him; well him and dozens of other clan-orc warriors during the fight. With a quick rotation of his shoulders to confirm it was in fact comfortable he walked over to Breyza, who tossed him a haunch of some deer which he happily chopped into, before following it with a good solid gulp of the beer taken back from their new human village to wash it down.

"What're we talking about this early today anyway?" he queried tearing off another chunk of meat from the haunch and pushing up the wooden window panel in front of him. A cold gust came in through the hole, and white flakes of snow flutter down in great number just beyond till slammed the panel back down and locked it again. "It's bloody snowing again, not like we can do anything till spring anyway"

"Because in the spring all of the hunters and females will be busy, and it will be too late to plan for other warchiefs possibly arriving, to plan our raiding, the Midwinter rituals, and of course for the feasting you love so much over the winter. Our clan has grown strong, and fast, now Father, and your friend the Shaman, want to purify the lower levels and begin expanding into them soon, that and talking of our conquest of the valley and what to do next" she answered in a bored tone as she shrugged some clothing over her shoulders before reattaching the cloak, dagger at her waist.

"Oh and you want to send off females to the human village come the spring and that's what you want to talk of I'm guessing?" he grumbled back strapping on his own magic axe to his back and a dagger into his boot. His own clan-orcs had been beaten into shape by himself and Karg but you could never be too careful with all the new recruits till the rules got beaten into their thick little skulls. That and more importantly one had to appear chiefly at all times; an armed, dangerous and proud orc warrior who was ready at all times to crush any and all challenges.

"Yes Zahgorim I am, there are too many of us here, too many young aggressive females in fact, after all the clans victories but warrior numbers are less than one for every four. And many of the eldest whelps will be of age for breeding at this Midwinter; settling a few dozen in the caves at the human village will prevent trouble when the warriors are away. Shamans Karguk, and Ogrash agree with me"

Zahgorim snorted at that as they moved to exit the room, his half-elf slave following obediently behind them as Breyza ordered two of the older females to watch the slave Marya in case she whelped early, or needed help with the whelps suckling at her teats. Both crones were trusted; old Geshka had help in Zahgorim's own rearing and the other ugly old female had been similar to Breyza herself "Of course Karg and Oggy agree with you. Karg probably wants nothing more than to put a garrison of them there as archers and to help with any food problems like last spring. And Oggy just wants to send off any of the young ones that she likes off to play warrior like she always wanted too with Ghorza"

"Shaman Karguk has the right idea Father thinks, and I agree mate as the humans will give us food and free up more time for raiding but need a firm hand like with any goblin or kobold. Settling the wild ones there doubles the guard and lets us have more free warriors free – that area secures the whole south of the valley yes?"

"Yes, it does, nice little hidden spot the humies had true and can see anything coming towards that way of the valley. I just don't like giving Ghorza of all orcs..." he grunted back in replied as their footsteps thudded along the stone floors of the Keep.

"Who is a powerful shaman who you're pissed at because she didn't break down after you fucked her and is pissed at you because you keep at trying to push to dominate her. So either challenge her, and fucking kill, her to be down with it, or let Karguk fix the mess by getting her under his control, but stop whining about it.." she snarled back softly as they moved "Me? I think you get the shaman to take her as a mate and keep her in line because she is a powerful cleric and the clan needs those to keep growing strong. I do not like her, but she is strong and we need strong. Between you, me, and your two friends our position in the clan is unassailable; none will challenge us alone as they know they would face the others, adding Ghorza to that gives us more strength from one who would normally be an enemy"

Zahgorim gave a grumbling sigh at that, knowing deep down it was true. Karg had banged on about it to him, while also keeping the female shaman in line when they had campaigned together over the seasons, and now Oggy and Breyza had told him similar since he'd come back. In the end it was just the fact he saw her strength and he'd wanted to defeat her and prove that he, Zahgorim, was the greater orc and she should know her place at his feet. Letting Karg fix the problem and seeking more great challenges to tame was likely the better approach now; the clan needed its spell-casters and shamans to keep strong against the undead and demons in battle he'd found "Ahhhh...true. Though I think Karg just suffers from a broken brain sometimes wanting females, even slaves, who use magic and can set you on fire"

"Hnnun...he is quite a mad orc I agree yes, but it just shows his power to the Horde Leader and to the clan. His mate is powerful, if young, priestess and he keeps his pet human serving the clan with her powers, adding Ghorza strengthens his, and our, control over the clan's magic while you control the warriors. It was why in the coming seasons you must seek out equal symbols of your strength, enemy leaders females or other powerful ones to defeat, not just bedding a few of the prettier females at the Midwinter fertility rites Zahgorim. This new clan can become, must become great in the eyes of the Gods and we must show this to the other clans when they come to see the Gods-slaves and proof of the human-lovers treachery, and we march out to smash our foes"

That was a thought that Zahgorim could get behind as his mood lifted at the thought of slaughtering his way through the enemies of the clan and taking what had been theirs as his own. It would certainly beat the exhausting and not-as-great-to-loot- and-take-stuff-after battle with the undead knight; crushing it had been enjoyable yes but there had been only cold silence upon its defeat rather than the wails of the foes females. Thinking on that, and the sight of the fist-to-heart salute given to them by the two armoured warriors at the door to the 'meeting room' cheered him immensely despite getting up early on a cold winters day. Pushing through the doors he was glad to see Karg, Oggy and Old Breyjuk sitting around the large crude table with one of the table sized 'maps' drawn by his Sylfine of the valley upon it held down by at the corners small stones. Karg had even evidently set up little metal pieces where Zahgorim knew were places like the human village or the kobold and handful of goblin tribes they'd hammered into line as vassals in the past year and a half.

"Well I'm here, so what're talking about first?" he asked as he and Breyza sat down on the wooden benches around the table glancing around as Karg shrugged across from him resting back in his chair slightly.

"How we handle the chiefs of other strongholds, and their warriors, if they come here in general; and whether the Redaxes are a future ally or just planning to betray us is up first. After that, Oggy and the Midwinter rites and sanctifying the new conquests below us and a dozen other things to do with all of..." Karg motioned at the 'map' of the valley of Sparta "...like whose going where next year and who we can trust with the humans and the kobolds for instance..."

--

When: Closing days of 1352DR

Where: Shaman's Tower

And we're back to the snow again, joys of living in hill country south of the Spine of the World I suppose, though I dread to think how bad it must be there considering our neck of the woods. Still it's not yet impassable, merely heavy and cold; though give it another few days and that'll change I reckon. Which hasn't done much for the little shanty-town developing at the base of the stronghold I might add, but thankfully we've gotten a bit of an expansion underground now thanks to killing off Baron Crazy-pants. So between sending the kobolds back to their various clans in their mines and 'reinforcing' Ghorza we've just about enough space to handle our dramatically expanded numbers. I've been doing a bit of a headcount (well guesstimate more-so) of numbers and I reckon we're at the following;

We've got just over two hundred 'warriors' here in the stronghold, but frankly only about half and a bit of them are what you could call 'veterans' - the rest are either young if trained, or the new recruits who we need to breakdown and train up. We can beat the discipline and formations into them over the winter and the early part of spring Zah and Cardac reckon to make up for our losses against the undead below us. In general one trained warrior is worth three or four of an untrained barbarian one I've found so the losses of two dozen of my clan-orc brothers hurts harder in the short term than the numbers themselves indicate.

In reserve to that we've got a decent core of the females trained up as auxiliaries either as archers, slingers or skirmishers that can handle defending from behind walls and other obstacles. Oggy says three hunded, Breyza says two hundred and Old Breyjuk thinks a hundred at best can fight worth a damn. So off somewhere between eight hundred and a thousand females from just of age to old crones either a third are combat ready, or a tenth, who knows. Though we're going to deposit a force of them over in Zybelin's Drift to back up the twenty we sent already to support Ghorza's group there; our victories have largely yielded young females been honest and I need to make use of them where I can defensively.

Children, my beautiful little Kargash included, are also a significant number of mouths to keep fed even if we raided the older generations of male whelps for training already. An issue that will only increase again this year after the Midwinter rites and all out victories; baby booms tend to happen after extreme successes or crushing defeats in orc society either as a reward from Luthic, or as survival mechanism. I've not idea how many exactly there, but several hundred from the age of nothing up to ten, though an orcish 10-12 is a human 13-16 in real biological terms.

So then to top it all off we've got out little garrison under Ghorza, with about forty warriors and another twenty to thirty female archers. I didn't want to leave any of the kobolds and goblins muddying up the situation, bad enough with our own warriors. Though I've realised I erred a bit hard on the side of our three best squads and one of the younger males; we could really do with the veterans for training here in Sparta. What I want to do is rotate the squads every season, one in one out for training and have a permanent garrison of fifty to a hundred of the more adventurous females. They're strong enough to keep the villagers in line, less likely to cause me trouble and more importantly they'll do some actual work like foraging, and baking. Bread, bread is really awesome I find. I miss easily available slice pan, brown bread and home...

You know what's funny?

I can cook; I'm a decent cook or used to be once upon a time. But anything more than campfire cooking is unorcish you know? That's just the way things are; but I shall find a way to recreate mass produced sandwich culture in Sparta some day!

Anyway from the things I miss and unto other depressing things, the remaining mouths to feed are of course the slaves. Because they do need to be fed, and unlike most orc tribes we feed them enough so they don't starve to death, and I keep them penned upside during the winter so they don't freeze to death. And there's about two hundred odd of them, mostly goblins, then kobolds and then about two to three dozen humans. Though that varies from relatively 'well off' slaves like my own and those owned by 'senior' orcs, and the ones at the very bottom of the rung like the surviving luskans.

It's not pretty and I hate visiting the slave pens, but at least their alive and been fed, and there's something of pecking order developing amongst them. All I say in my defence is that it's a step up from the standard practice of 'beat-them-till-they-die' standard approach; if I'm lucky we steer it towards some manumission system. But that not-be-an-asshole treatment is a pressure as it, literally, eating up resources so we have to produce more to cover it. Thankfully we are producing more after the years hunting, raiding, foraging, the beginnings of a cattle herd and the small slave farms we established last spring. I'm hoping that expanding the farmlands in Zybelin's Drift plus agricultural magic plus building herds of cattle and sheep, and voila!, the start of a sustainable food economy.

Or not, who knows. Either way it's expand or die for a stronghold like ours till you can hit a critical mass and become the biggest, meanest boys on the block. Because right now we're quite a lopsided clan in demographics (oh big words I love thee so) as I've stated; we rely on training, discipline, formations and magic to dramatically increase our fighting prowess. And we're going to have other clan chiefs visiting our lands to plan a big raid, and we cannot afford to show any weakness to them or risk them turning on us rather than the Uthgarders like we want. Time is what I want, a year to bed down our strength in the valley here, to train more warriors and form alliances before any more major fights; we just can't afford the losses just now. Though that as they say is in God's hands now - or the Boss as I call him. I'm sure he'll let me know shortly in fact.

--

When: Near the End of the Yeat

Where: Shaman's Tower

Okay where to start. The main headache I suppose, even if it's not exactly an earth shattering one compared to raiding, city building and defeating a death knight. In the shape of Oggy, Zah, the other leadership and the general fucked up nature of orcish society I might add. Pick another mate basically to show our strength to the clan and respect to the Cave Goddess, and bloody fucking Zah (for once! for bloody once!) isn't looking to fill that slot be screwing anything that walks. Oh no, he's got PLANS now; ie. a harem of princesses taken from future defeated enemies. Knowing Zah one from every humanoid race the prick. I suspect Breyza at work here – this is too bloody long term for Zah.

Anyway that means Oggy's annoying me to start properly bedding another female has turned into pretty much an ultimatum on the matter. She is the Priestess of Luthic and I'm an important cleric as well who's favoured by Ilneval, and it's our bloody duty...and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, horrible stuff, blah, blah, blah. And can't afford to show weakness or my other efforts will get stopped or reversed...because that's how our fucked up society works right now Gods dammit. So have to bite the bullet on it but Missy is off the table for that, I'm not going inflict that on her. What's worse Kethri and Mara are 'willing and eager' in the way of slaves eager to please their mistress are...because being a concubine keeps them secure to an orc that won't beat them or eat them out of hand, and Oggy treats Mara like a pet of sorts. I'm off to bang my head off the wall now for a while now at the outcome. Can't we just fight Baron Crazy-pants again? At least that way I don't have to feel horrid about myself inside at my actions.

This ties into my other headache – the ceremony itself, as while it's technically Oggy's and the Church of Luthic's time of year the fact is we're purifying the lower levels and the ruined remains of Mr. Death Knight & Friends as well. And that means setting up similar to last year's "OMFG WUT?" ceremony to please the Gods, and also making use of the 'Gods-slaves' as everyone calls them – also headache causing I'm pretty sure the Boss is going to use them as 'telephone' to me of sorts. They 'dream' evidently, which seems a part 'slave training' and part 'cryptic message carrier' for the Boss Orc; likely a nice way to keep an eye on me, and the stronghold, without arousing other deities' suspicions. So just got told I'm being watched even more closely all the time by upper management, and expected to train up the six 'rescued' slaves in my 'free time' as well as Oggy. Okay off to bang head off wall now again for a little while because it's nearing D-Day for the next terrifying job report session. Yeah I've been successful to his goals but that doesn't make the Boss any less terrifying I might add.

What good news is there?

Well Missy's training of herself, myself and the arcane magic using 'battlestaves' has been going well; I'm doing really well as throwing myself into it means I don't have to think about other things. Procrastination can evidently encourage a hard-working ethic to dodge things you don't want to do. The new, well really old, spell-books are been shelved for the moment till we get past the rituals. And as part of our lesson's we've finally catalogued and stored all the various magical components, ingredients, scrolls and other sundries that we now possess into a nice secure locked room here in my tower. Still haven't made progress on the various magical artifacts we've taken as yet beyond a few of lower end ones, though we now have a lesser bag of holding, a magic resistant crates and several holy magic swords only I can use probably. Oh well.

Other than that Rose is holding up well, though she seems to act like my personal assistant along with Missy who she's copying I've noticed. Oggy treats her...well like Oggy treats younger females, ie. somewhere between a servant and trainee cleric, though leaning more towards minions overall. All the hostages have been kept safe, though Rose as a spell-caster is my responsibility...and I get to learn all about the history of this valley, Chauntean rituals and doctrine and the people of the village. And honestly this girl is gifted, limited only by having been brought up in a rough and tumble hidden village. She's not even literate – something I'm working on fixing by the way. If she's here then she's getting an education. And it's a distraction as well I'll admit.

--

When: Midwinter T minus 2 days

Where: Under-levels Sparta

Purification ritual planning time!

Because doing the ceremony over the whole former undead filled floor is a little bit more time consuming and complicated than we'd envisioned. Mainly because strictly speaking because I'm not technically involved because it's Luthic's ceremony not a joint one like our previous ritual; constantly inferring in it would be...problematic...from a religious point of view. And I've been warned let's say about this through the so-called Gods-slaves. Though I'll still get a visitation most likely anyway, all joy to me I suppose.

So this is all Oggy's show, at least officially, so there's no Ghorza reinforcing the ritual, nor me and Missy doing more than a 'support' role in regards the whole thing. That and we're talking about sanctifying a whole floor and the (thankfully) inert remains of the undead that were here, so there's no margin to start blessing armour and weapons this year like last year. So this is firmly going to be a Luthic operation...in direct public ceremony at least; nothing stopping me and my merrily little minions helping Oggy in the setup of the ceremony now is there?

Well rules-lawyering aside what we thinking is the best solution is focusing the ritual where the original 'become a zombie' ritual was held by the previous owners. Or at least where we think it was held from the centuries old remains and layout of the 'third' floor itself. So we're going to have the purification and blessing rituals here in a doubled up ritual circle to Luthic using the Gods-slaves and Oggy's acolytes with 'outflow' smaller wards been set coming out from it like a spider web of sorts. The trick has been of course to ensure the links to various individual ones merge together into the whole; they don't need to be physical connected but they need to be close enough to overlap it seems. Still by putting all the young and eager Warswords and Battlestaves along with Oggys acolytes gives us a workforce to brute force the issue like before while myself and Oggy serve as supervisors and 'quality inspectors' of the work.

We're about two-thirds of the way there I reckon, so we should have it finished by tomorrow and then have a whole day to 'test' everything and do any corrections needed. While a larger ceremony in many ways, it is also a much simpler one in what we're doing; drive out 'evil' spirits and sanctify the grounds to the orc deities, in many ways it's 'spellcraft 101' compared to my...mixed...rituals from last year. It's just more time consuming considering it's a more expansive surface area; on an amusing side note Rose at least is getting a significant, albeit condensed, education in ritual magic. See I'm an educator!

--

When: Midwinter T minus 1 day

Where: Keep Sparta

Now I have been thinking on other matters related to the ceremony. Always a danger of course I'll admit after my previous overpowered magical brainstorming but I'm going to work through it this time with a plan ahead of time; hence the thinking. Mostly about creating magical weapons or other such items in the future for us to use, especially for facing down possible demonic problems, or dangerous things like Baron Crazy-pants. That and I have this lovely collection of magical components and alchemical reagents taken from the Luskan caravan that I really, really, really want to try figure out how to use properly. Just their just there in my secure storerooms, mocking me in their not giving shiny magical things, and I'll admit I gets my mind off of the monotony of the ritual preparations – preparing the same ritual circle over and over again is time-consuming and dull.

Now the problem I've got is that creating anything more than basic blessed weapons like last years is somewhat harder than many would think. Though it does explain of course why they aren't exactly flooding the markets of Faerun in mass produced numbers, well that plus few places have reached even the late renaissance 'armoury' style mass production of plate and mail for instance. Weapons and armour are both time-consuming and expensive to make even without magic; and a messed up magic ritual can literally screw up the end product, or blow up in your face if you really screw it up.

And judging from the 'Holy Books' and talking to Missy, Ghorza, and now Rose over the past year, the impression I get we're somewhere closer 'oh fuck its hard-impossible' early creation rules than later 'craft wondrous item'. Though of course we're not exactly high-level nor super skilled spell-casters, and with XP not been a real thing in the real world (oh where was my level up for killing a Death Knight horde of undead?) it's gonna be study plus trial and error. At least on that not I'm plenty of on the job training so to speak thanks to all these rituals, and have an 'enhancement' spell component in the shape of the six magic slaves. So, as proved many times, I do have the capacity to brute force spells to some degree with the proper ritual work.

So I'm thinking a prototype of sorts, a test case later in the coming year going from start to finish. Mainly because our resident clan smiths aren't very good honestly; while that fella and his apprentices in Zybelin's Drift are leagues above them in terms of skill. Meanwhile getting the best metals available requires arrangements of some sort with the kobolds under 'King' Tucker since they have a mine of sorts like you'd expect of underground living kobolds. So that'll take a little while to organise come the spring, and sorta requires me going back to Zybelin's Drift again I'd expect so I can record the whole process from start to finish and work to improve the following ones. Maybe even two or three 'styles' to figure out the relationship between infusing magic into items and how much to use.

It also raises the valid question of resources within our little petty kingdom here in the valley. The stronghold here is our main base but our smiths aren't very skilled beyond the most basic, we didn't really have any industry of sorts here and really it's just a glorified storeroom plus fortified barracks. Our kobold 'vassals' have a mine, iron I think but maybe silver as I'm not entirely sure honestly. While the human villagers are the more skilled in terms of smithing and 'industry' like a mill and bakery. Thing is the countryside between our various locations are rough county, so while quite close relatively the fact is they are winding journeys to get from A to B rather than a straight line. So to setup a transport route I think we need to establish a 'road' network of sorts; or to be more accurate clearing paths between woodland, and then building a few small bridges over streams to allow ease of movement. This is something that would take a season or two of work in reality, so a decision for the spring I reckon.

Anyway may get back to the finishing touches for tomorrow for the ceremony, we've gotten the extensive f simple chalk rune-work nearly finished and it's a matter of constant testing. We do after all have to impress the Cave Mother in particular, and my own Boss in private, with a ceremony matching last years and it's not a good idea to offend the Gods.

--

When: Winter, though it could be 1353DR by now, probably already is I guess.

Where: My Tower

I'm tired, just tired. Well slightly hungover too as alcohol I find is a useful way to get over issues of discomfort and possible self-loathing, a long held Irish, now Orc, tradition I suppose. Deed is done as they say, though I was probably the less willing at the back of it than the other two involved. What can i say it's hard been a semi-decent orc, or at least pretending to be. Oh and of course to handle the usual fearful and stressful meeting with the Boss on the astral plan of course. Because that very much at the forefront of my mind as while the Boss is 'happy' with my progress he did finish it off with the utterly terrifying "let me see your value in the coming seasons" rather than any specific goals. Basically carte blanche to some, but I'm a goal and orientated person, and that Orc deity expects results – but I've no idea what results he wants this time, and that terrifies me more than the last set of impossible instructions in many ways.

What the fuck does that mean? Let me see your value in the coming seasons. Am I supposed to conquer Luskan or something utterly impossible like that? Or will strengthening the clan here in the valley like I'd planned suffice?

Hell this year we defeated a Death Knight. Crushed all our immediate enemies. United two clans into one strong whole. Vassalised kobolds, goblins and finally a human village. Are we supposed to repeat that bullshit? Top it somehow? Gods-damn it what! I hate open ended assessments!

Okay. Okay. Unto the positives rather than wallowing in self-pity no matter the urge in that direction.

Firstly the purification worked perfectly, as did the blessing ceremony. Our spell-work, after last year's lessons, worked in rather straight forward manner. It was obviously up to par for Luthic who gave indirect manifestations similar to last year and effectively purged any lingering 'evil' from our new living quarters/storerooms. Oh and magic fertility blessing bullshit too. Yay. That and Oggy feels 'stronger' and is talking of learning new powers. I did half the prep work dammit! So I get a "Okay you well enough, no rewards for you though" and she gets a "Here's more magic for you". Though I should feel relief I suppose as Ilneval's rewards usually imply coming dangers rather than "Ya did good son" treatment.

Secondly I'm being allowed leeway in my ideas a little, mainly because I've succeed so far; adding strength to the Horde Leader's cause without really costing him anything. Though of course I have to run those ideas by him when they involve trying new things, because there are ruleswhose reach I need to stay on the good side or else. Of these was my desire to actually make use of my -currently useless- holy magic paladin swords. Basically I want to create my own version of paladins, or at least the equivalent of the Red Branch Knights or Crusading Orders who can make use of the things and whose character I can trust to thing off beyond just themselves. Because there are Lawful Good and Lawful Neutral Orcs...just not many as the culture pushes for short termist 'evil' thinking in general; though many 'hide' their instincts to avoid getting killed off by their peers and my clan I think had the deck stacked slightly by someone.

Hell if I can fine two orcs it's a huge improvement over having none. Because I want enforcers, ones I can trust to act in more than their own self-interest. Testing of course will be harder than just casting 'protection against evil' and seeing who can cross but with the Boss willing to actually give them powers then with the blades any I can find can be useful anti-demon or anti-undead fighters. And they can keep the evil idiots in line by cutting down any who break our laws. Because I need to create role models of a sort to be able to point to as a reason to change – Might makes Right with most orcs and nothing says that than a well trained and fanatical knight in heavy plate armour and a magic sword. I hope.

Carrot and stick methods in essence in the coming years, assuming I survive of course but I think proving the value of Law and Order increases all of our survival odds. Now I just need the precepts this new (possibly imaginary) Knightly Order will hold. And a name, though I'm thinking Ilneval Red Branch Knights just so I can use the Red Hand of Ulster to remind me of things long past; well that and the Craobh Dearg, "bright red branch" was where severed heads and other trophies of battle were kept. It just seems to fit with orcs, they even got the clannish disunity and savagery of that time period down pat I'm afraid. How did it go?

The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad

--

[Ogrash 06]

Outer Walls, Lower Slopes, Sparta

A few soft white snowflakes drifted down unto the white covered ground as Ogrash walked along beside her mate and the others, the faint crunch of the snow beneath her boots mingling with that of her breath steaming in the cold air. Thankfully the heavy snowdrifts of the early winter had faded and now been reduced to a layer of crisp snow that came up to about boot height as they walked, slowing their steps somewhat. Still it was obviously winter, and a chilly gust caused her to tug at her furs for some extra warmth at its touch, even if the partially completed wooden walls and building offered some protection from the winds. Despite this Ogrash was glad to get out of the tower and the underground for a while into the cool crisp valley air, being cooped up for months on end was very different than when they'd been always on the move a few years ago. Normally a nice difference true, but too much was also somewhat frustrating she found.

"...still in good condition it looks like..." Karg was saying now, running a fur glove along the wooden beams of one of the building's walls to scrape off the snow on and see the wood benrath that'd been 'treated' as he called it last summer "...I was afraid it might rot honestly. You think we can get it finished over the spring so they'll be ready before any possible guests, wanted or unwanted, arrive Chief Breyjuk, Breyza?"

"Aye Shaman we should, as you say the buildings frames are still solid..." the old orc replied after a few moments glancing around at the nearby snow covered structures "...so the walls and roofs just need to be finished over the season, and earth moved over them when the ground stops being frozen. Though I will not be here, my brother-chief and my daughter here will remain while I hunt east of here"

"So Zah is to stay here then with you Breyza I'd assume? And he hasn't started whining yet? I'm surprised!" Ogrash answered with a snort of amusement. It was unsurprising really, well to everyone bar Karg who glanced back curiously at the decision, as Zah had been out on campaign and proving himself to the clan's warriors while Old Breyjuk had defended the stronghold. Due to that it was somewhat inevitable the old warrior would want to lead out a force of warriors this season for raiding while Zah stayed in Sparta and continued with the construction here, and for training of the fighters.

Breyza, standing to her sire's side grinned under her furs "Oh my mate has done much whining but he has our slaves to play with, and much training to help with too, so that put a stop to his complaints for now. While you're all gone it'll be the females and the slaves doing much of this work anyway; I'll keep everything to plan and Zahgorim can drill with the younger warriors and whip them into shape"

Ogrash wasn't surprised at that at all, like many orcs the newer clan-orcs were quite lazy and found the harsh discipline of Sparta to be a big surprise. Most males tended to expect to be allowed to laze around drinking and doing nothing when they weren't fighting or out hunting while settled in a stronghold; Karguk's and Zahgorim's rather merciless 'training regime' had taken those non-Stormfangs or Thunderblades by surprise. Though it had given the clan warriors far superior to that of those the other clans had possessed like the now absorbed Clawslsashers or Fleshgorers, or larger but now shattered Fingercutters. So while Ogrash suspected that the males would help in the construction more than Breyza was saying the truth was that most of them would prefer to stick to the gruelling training instead. Which was probably for the best with other clans warchiefs coming to the valley come the summer; the clan need it's warriors to show their strength against what could be just as much enemies as allies.

"About what I'd expect of Zah honestly..." Karg said while slapping his gloved hands against his fur lined chainmail to knock off the snowy covering that had accumulated there "...and bloody snow, never seems stop and gets fuckin' everywhere...anyway, getting the buildings and these walls finished is pretty important, drag in the kobolds if we need the extra labour force Breyza, just make sure they bring their own food supplies if they do. We can let our...guests...stay here with their retinues of warriors after they arrive, I don't want them getting inside the stronghold in numbers or near the larders"

"You fear betrayal shaman?" Breyza asked back in an amused tone as they walked into the 'town square' and earthen and wooden wall and ramp gates that were just visible under all the snow that surrounded the defences like a white blanket. Before the seizure of the lower levels of the stronghold, and the fact there were more beneath those, this was supposed to be a 'town' to the stronghold above. Even now Karg, and Breyza surprisingly to Ogrash, was still pushing to keep expanding the area and use it as trading area with other clans in the future, and to build a 'proper' tavern he'd said. In response to Breyza's query it was the 'heh' of Old Breyjuk that interrupted Karg's response to let the old Chief speaking instead as they walked towards wooden watchtowers in various states of completion.

"Heh, betrayal, threats, whining and host of other things daughter is what our shaman expects I'd guess, as do I. These chiefs will wish to see our proof of the human demon-lovers alliances, which we can do easily I know but do not expect our possible 'allies' not to be seeking our destruction when they arrive. Out here they would have us besieged yes, but all our food stuffs, our weapons and the water supply are all inside the stronghold and not down here am I right shaman?"

"Eyup, that and till we finish fully, which will next winter most likely, this place is a fire hazard if targeted from above and is easily within range of our archers from the walls and southern tower of the Keep. If they decide to turn on us then they won't have the advantage of been inside the walls already, nor the resources for a siege to hand to help them out. We want everything to be on our terms to set a good impression with the other clans, me and you with the hunters can watch for their arrival and guide them in, or have time to prepare if they come in force...well that and have enough food to feed all of us too. Games gone a little thin on the ground directly around the stronghold's hunting grounds unfortunately"

"Eh, fuckin' animals get wary and ye have to chase'em is all. I'll send a few hunters I think to our old camp while you take yer lot south and I'm off to the east on the valley walls. Though I think our larders are still pretty full honestly"

"Yeah, full now but better have more than we need when the other chieftains arrive. That and I been well fed Old Chief, I don't know about you but I like having a full belly most every day, and for me whelp too" Ogrash smirked back to the nodding Old Breyjuk. Because it was a nice change to the constant struggle of being always on the move or the dangerous state of the spring last year when numbers had grown yet food was running out. And despite Karg's plans for building small bridges and a road to the human village along with watchtowers the fact was many of the females like his plan as it moved several dozen out from the stronghold itself to fresh hunting and foraging grounds. They had the whole valley under their control now, the Bugbears driven off and the other humanoid creatures conquered, so the younger ones were eager to 'see' these lands as much be pretend warriors while there.

"And what will you do with the whelp and your slaves while yer gone shaman, you plan to bring your mate here with you do you not?"

"We're bringing Kargash with us, and the girls, it's not too far to the village in fairness and their buildings are good and warm. And it's only for the season before we return. I'm bringing the God-slaves as well, along with the hostages, as I want to test out their blacksmith and my capacity for magical item creation. That and it lets me keep up the training for my battlestaves with Missy over the spring" Karg answered the older orc glancing at Ogrash who grinned back.

He'd been unhappy with her decision to join him heading to the human village with Kargash, but she'd been cooped inside too long and her whelp needed to be travel weaned anyway like Ma had with Ogrash herself years ago. With all the magic casters going with Karg then it was no surprise that he was taking the God-slaves, that and Zah and Old Breyjuk wanted to show their blessings from the Gods to the conquered by the six slaves presence. That and their presence should empower whatever rituals he wanted to carry out Ogrash assumed.

And while in the human village she could work and bringing in Ghorza as a secondary mate to herself and Karg now that he'd finally taken one of the slaves to bed. His devotion to her was sweet and felt wonderful but really it was a bit weird and short-sighted as well; every first wife needed other lesser ones to show their power, and their mate's power, after all. She and Breyza had discussed Ghorza over the past weeks and Ogrash agreed with Zah's mate that the other female shaman was too dangerous to leave unattached considering the clashes between her and Zah.

"My mate speaks true, and I wish to bless the caves at the human village for our females moving there, not just go there to see the place as you might think. So while Karg here's plays around with his magic sword while we're there I'll be busy..." she teased back at her mate and confirming her intentions to Breyza about Ghorza once again as Old Breyjuk guffawed. "...with the hard-work as usual"

--

When: Spring 1353DR, even if it still feels like winter

Where: A bit south of Sparta

We Roll'in, Roll'in, Roll'in,

Even if the roads are fuckin' frozen,

I'll just keep on bloody gumblin', rawhide!

Because through rain and shitty weather,

Off to somewhere better,

Complaining Oggy by my side!

Sorry, only three days out and the shitty, shitty, weather has slowed us down really badly thanks to a sudden snowfall after we thought the weather had cleared for good. Nothing dramatically heavy mind you, but still enough to clog up wagon wheels between it and the frozen ground. So we've been moving by day rather than night, because it's cold enough to freeze the balls off you by then, and at least there's been heavy cloud cover during the day making the daylight so weak as to barely affect us even without the training. Still it's a cold and miserable trek honestly regardless of which time we move at and I'll be glad to hit Zybelin's Drift and a warm bed again. Yes I know I'm an orc and moaning about the weather is unorky but fuck you I say, I'm cold and I can bitch all I want in my bloody diary.

Anyhoo we're still a distance from the village, roundabout route and all that, which is why my infrastructure project is definitely going ahead. Just a few simple wooden and gravel bridges, some logging to widen a few paths and there we go – a solid road from our food supply to the stronghold. I'll admit it won't be even up to roman road quality, hell even dark age 'highways' but it's better than been stuck here being bloody cold and slowed up by the crappy terrain. And I don't even get to avoid the drama either of getting away from the stronghold as I've got Oggy and the sisters, and Missy, and a large force of idiots to keep in line; Oggy basically invited herself along and can't go anywhere without her entourage. Sigh. Problematic because it seems to have freaked out Missy somewhat and she's acting odd, let alone the sudden tension that even I can see between her and the sisters. I have no idea how to fix it but I really wish it would go away in a really convenient manner that works out in my favour. Hmmm...evidently wishing does not make it so.

On the bright side (beyond freezing my ass off because I left too bloody early) keeping the general idiots of the 'army' with me has been relatively easy. I've got the Battlestaves and Warswords with me to keep up the training with Missy and myself for the year, a veteran squad of warriors...and of course the female auxiliary archers. Yes they're ideal for a garrison duty considering our shortage of veteran warriors and my instincts to try keep a concentrated force structure, and yes they've been trained and showing discipline that was beaten into them like with the males.

But dear Gods are they annoying at times with their constant nattering and mini-rows in their ranks; their like bloody mean schoolgirls, except with actual claws, weapons and an unhealthy love for violence. Though I find shouting loudly while gesticulating threateningly gets them to follow orders just like with own idiotic gender; because in this orcs army you bloody well follow commands or bad things happen to you regardless of your gender. Obey or Else unfortunately is the only way to push them into semi-civlized behaviour.

Anyway my fingers are getting numb now and the fire, and then a sleeping roll with Oggy await!

So...Slan a chara for now I suppose.

--

When: Spring 1353DR

Where: Nearing Zybelin's Drift (I hope)

Weather's cleared, thank the Gods, though that's merely made the ground muddy instead of frozen; though I've been 'road building' over the week by laying wooden logs we chopped down over the worse parts and then adding a layer of stone and gravel. Well smaller stones really. Basically I'm battering my way through the terrain on a (relatively) straight line towards Zybelin's Drift along what probably was the original road from the castle to its outlying settlements. Even where we're resting right now I'd suspect is merely the ruined remnants of a village that fell to an attack in the past century or two – so rather than road building more truthfully I'm performing renovations on the old road by clearing out as much possible and filling in the gaps. It'll take more than a week or two hard and fast clearances to get a proper track established but I won't be as hard as I first thought it seems.

Though it's tiring and orcs are naturally lazy, myself included, but it's merely a matter of motivation; there's is me giving them orders with carrot and stick methods to get that work, and mine is the Boss giving orders and been his terrifying self. Oh and the ever present threat of literally every other creature gunning for orcish blood, my Oggy and little bundle of joy included. Yeah motivations aplenty I find these days. So we've been setting a fairly impressive pace, helped on by clerical magic; clerics magic work-crews = a truly awesome amount of work done even by a pre-industrial warband. And it allows mine and Oggy's acolytes a training session at the same time! A win-win situation I say!

One thing I've noted is that Rose is a surprisingly talented cleric, certainly better than the current level of my lot I'll be honest. Or Oggy's if she was honest as well. Truth is, while illiterate and shy in temperament, the simple truth is the girl has been properly trained for years by an experienced cleric; technically I was the same but, well...Old Vretkag, Ilneval bless his soul wasn't...the best shaman ever. Or rather he was at some point and had gotten rather senile. Still powerful of course but his training wasn't quite up to par compared to what Rose's teacher gave to her. Partially why I'm rather eager to spend some time with that woman and get a better background on things like herblore and general healing which are sadly lacking on my part. And Oggy's too even if she's far better at it than me – her Goddess helps out directly I suspect unlike my Boss whose spells for battle and such come naturally to me. I always wondered how that worked and now I've gotten a sorta answer.

Plus we're returning the hostages now, and the only one I'm planning on keeping with us on the return trip is Rose. Mainly because we'll have savage clan chiefs and their escorts from other clans around, and I don't want innocent and helpless human children running around and complicating the mix and likely coming to harm due to it. I can keep Rose close with Missy during the situation and one hostage of her value is enough to keep my clan happy with the demands for said hostages. Well assuming the village is still intact and nothing went wrong, but I'm trying to be optimistic here. My orders to Ghorza were rather straightforward; no raping and murdering our workforce for instance, and I trust her abilities to carry them out, I hope. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts I guess.

--

When: Spring 1353DR

Where: Zybelin's Drift

Gods damn it Ghorza!

Really? This? I leave you alone for one godsdamned season and you're marrying off villagers to my garrison forces? Really? Feck it all!

Okay, okay to be fair this blindsided me and I'm much more open minded than your average faerunian, orc or otherwise. And me turning up with another sixty to seventy auxiliaries is unlikely to go down as one of my better thought out plans considering. Because yeah, to be fair, Ghorza keep the four squads I'd assigned to her inline and discipline, and used these to terrify the fifty odd new recruits' that turned up after we left into submission as well. So yeah letter of the law here for her.

But the female auxiliaries? Oh Lord above I turn up in the village to find out three of them and human boy have 'hooked up' and Ghorza is having them perform public whippings. This is not what I expected when I left here for home after harvest time. Bloody hell I expected the executions to keep order and terrify the recruits into the 'Spartan Way' but having villagers do it to my auxiliaries was not up there. On the bright side there was perfectly logical reasons for her to do this and not her indulging some evil fetish she may possess that I was unaware off but wouldn't put past her.

I should know because I asked her in detail on the matter and she explained her reasoning to me, her superior, very matter of factly. Nor was she the least bit embarrassed by the other suggested reasoning. Because Ghorza is Evil, thankfully though she's my Evil minion and follows orders when reasonable. And I'm nothing if not pragmatic and reasonable. Unlike the rest of this bloody world sometimes; personally I blame Lathander, the Dawning Smugness – mainly because it is his bloody fault for killing Murdane, patron of said Pragmatism and Reason. Idealistic Golden Twat.

Anyway sorry sidetracked in thoughts again. So the village is intact, nothing is on fire, and villagers skulls are not decorating the palisade walls; all GOOD THINGS in my book. Hell the villagers even had this happy little celebration (we orcs were not invited obviously) at the return of our winter 'guests' to them unharmed and mentally fine. Well...probably tougher psychologically, I'm pretty sure Rose is alot less shy now and nervous than at the start of the journey. Living among orcs tends to do that I find, assuming you survive the experience anyway.

Away from all that I'm going to plan out my weapon and armour creation with the blacksmith and everyone else involved tomorrow. To ensure the villagers give their best for these prototypes I'm giving them to arm up Rose of all people; after all they've a big interest in keeping her safe and gives me a standard to judge by for later projects. After all I won't let any 'failed' tests near the girl anyway, it's just they don't know that and won't have incentives to sabotage my project this way round. That and arming up the girl like a proper cleric is secondary safety for her when we return to Sparta, I'm having Oggy and Ghorza train her in weapons to give the appearance she's like an orc hostage from a weaker orc clan even if she's human. Hell with armour and helmet on most orcs won't care once "and that's a shaman" gets pointed out – it's as much fear as prestige that gets we magic users by in Might Make Right town. Good day for now. Seems I'm wanted for something or other already. No rest for the wicked as they say.

--

[Wifne 03]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

"And did you sleep well, now that you are back in your own bed once again My Little Flower?" Wifne asked with a warm smile as she sat at the table in the kitchen as her granddaughter emerged from her small room. A room that had been so sadly empty over the winter while Wifne Humbletree prayed every morning to the Goddess that Rose came back safely to them. Prayers that had been answered, even if just for the planting season as that broad smile illuminated the tired but cheerful face once again before old eyes. Those terrifying tales of her little flower off around orcs who were fighting undead horrors like the Unholy Baron and his servants put to the back of her mind.

"Hmmmm, it was certainly quieter here Grandma, Master Karguk's room is very loud most nights with all of us in it and someone doing something. Thanks Grandma it looks yummy!" Rose replied happily taking the basket of bread, cured ham and cheese that was their breakfast even in these trying times. Another little change there from her little flower, demolishing her food in a 'sandwich' as she called it rather than in the slow and delicate manner that Wifne herself had tried to break her out of after Rose had picked it up from her mother before Wifne's daughter-in-laws death. Perhaps unsurprisingly the harsh and rough environment of the orcs had done just that in only a season, as her granddaughter cheerfully told her of the goings on in the home of the orc shaman and its other leaders.

"...and then Missy would teach..." Rose continued on as Wifne smiled and listen hiding any unease at the casual horrors, or just plain embarrassing debauchery her granddaughter had witnessed. Mostly though the stories, like now, we're of stranger things than such things. Instead these orcs were both much less monstrous, but also much more frightening perhaps, in their clan structure and habits.

The Shaman himself was evidently quite strange even from her own brief meetings with him, and Rose's tales merely reinforced that as their new Orc overlords were seemingly organised and regimented in a way more like she'd heard from Hobgoblins than Orcs. Even their treatment of slaves was based on a hierarchy of sorts being used, even if her little flower didn't realise it, with slave pens for menial slaves it seemed, while other slaves like those that had arrived with the orcs were treated surprisingly well. Which was strange for most orc clans; orcs were powerfully built fighters yes, but invariably lazy and disorganised above the family level.

It was why the village had seen off many such raids before, and also why she had feared having a garrison of the creatures being here; murder, rape and casual savagery was what she'd expect. Instead what she'd seen was brutal iron discipline and an actually organised training regime that she only seen before, and then only in a fraction of here, in the cities like Neverwinter. Perhaps the story from Rose that 'Master Karguk' was 'God-touched' was true...which was good and bad for Wifne's home.Good in the sense that the oppression of her villagers was kept to a minimum and as long as they obeyed their new overlords harm caused was more embarrassment and a few bruises like in the case of Egar, rather than murder and assault villagers as could be fear.

But worrisomely Bad in the sense that this was growing Orc clan; which would inevitably clash with other clans and creatures, and thereby bring other horrors into this valley like them challenging the Unholy Baron had proved. What if that monster had gotten free? What would have happened to the valley and her village if that thing had defeated the orcs and returned in its evil power? Or perhaps more worryingly was the fact the Orcs had Won; defeating the undead horror her own ancestors had merely sealed away it seemed. And a powerful overlord often meant a long term one; would her little flowers children, and children's children, grow up kneeling and simpering at these orcs descendents feet as her ancestors had to the Unholy Baron's?

'At least I suppose I should be glad that that damned orc shaman has been true to his word and kept Rose and others safe' she told herself as they finished up their meal, guiding her granddaughter towards the wooden door to meet the orc again. Staying on the good side of at least one of the leaders of the orc tribe was vital, not just for the village's survival but that of her little flower for when he took her away again as a hostage to ensure the village stayed 'quiet' and didn't rebel against them when he, and all his warriors, left again for their home.

The village was quiet so far, the winter had lasted well into the spring this year and snow and frost still covered the land somewhat as her breath strafed on spring morning air. While adjusting her cloak around her for a little extra warmth as she walked she noticed one of young Egar's three orc...wives...marching behind a half dozen of her fellow grey-gray skinned brethren towards the outer palisade and watch posts the orcs had built. Wifne knew that the orc did not like the sunlight on their eyes, even on a overcast and foggy day like this, but still she saw that both Ghorza during the winter months and this 'Master Karguk' now kept up the pactice of 'training' in sunlit hours for the orcs.

'And Egar my boy you and your...women...have caused us no end of headaches' she sighed walking along as Rose beside folded her arms so her hands were under the sleeves of her robe. Something Wifne copied with a smile having forgotten her gloves and not realising how cold the day was; a thick chilling fog lay over the village again, broken up only by the torch fires lit around the place. Even the Orc Shaman had seemed to be annoyed by the discovery of the events, perhaps because he brought along a veritable horde of young orc females and was likely unhappy to find three of those already here had been taken by a human; one of the three already being pregnant now it seemed. Keeping the girls of the village away from the orcs was one thing, but trying to do it with the older teenage boys was another; amongst the older villagers and girls Egar was viewed with great annoyance, amongst the older boys and some men...as the 'Orc Slayer'. Stupid little whipper-snappers!

"Oh look Master Karguk and Missy are here already Grandma" Rose announced ever cheerful as they marched on the frozen mud streets, through swirling freezing mists. And there where her little flower was motioning too stood the armoured form of the orc shaman and his robe clad 'slave' wizard, along with what Wifne knew as the now familiar shape of the female shaman Ghorza, at the doorway to the village blacksmith. Who, poor fellow, was nervously the questions of the shaman it seemed as she came closer and voices firmed up and faces came into focus. Wifne bowed to their overlords, as did Rose beside her, while it was the Shaman that greeted them in a friendly sounding tone, for a savage at least, as they came out of their bows.

"Greetings Priestess Humbletree, and good morning there little Red Rose, up early I see..." he stated with amused smile that still looked...a little scary honestly...and a clawed hand half-patted, half-rubbed, Rose's red hair; musing it up and causing Wifne's granddaughter too pout slightly at its movement to messiness. The orc merely laughed, and Rose huff in annoyance as he withdrew his hand from mused hair, easing the fear that threatened to rise up in Wifne at the six foot whatever giant towering over her little flower "...all awake and ready to get to work with Missy and me? Or more-so see about getting you a suit of armour?"

"Yes Sir, Master Karguk Sir!" her little flower chirped back cheerfully causing Wifne to relax, but still finding the almost friendly familiarity between the orc shaman and Rose unsettling. Perhaps it was for the best if it kept her safe, but Rose had always been respectful of her elders (even if the orc was seemingly younger than her little flower, but orcs grew fast evidently) and Wifne didn't want this Karguk and his slave's corrupting Rose in their den of evil.

"Good...now Priestress I've been talking to your blacksmith here, Jim wasn't it?"

"Yes, Sir, noble Sir"

"Yeah Jim the Blacksmith here, has told me he has all the materials need to make everything for a full set of armour for Rose here, along with your village seamstresses of course, and then a weapon as well..." the orc stated looking into where the fires of the forge were being stoked to life by the blacksmith's two young apprentices; his daughter Yzara and her cousin Jerold "...so we just need to get you measured, see what'd suit your strength and such and then I can plan out my enchanting plans and how to make them magical and stuff like that...also..." he paused looking at Wifne as Rose nodded at the statement,having already been told by the orc before coming here she was to be a 'test subject' for the shaman's first magical items.

"...we will have you organise classes by yourself to myself, Rose, and my acolytes in the season we're here about your knowledge on your Goddess and other deities. Ghorza's been telling me you've been telling her bits and pieces during your talks?"

Wifne nodded as the orcess Ghorza grinned seemingly at been indicated as having done good work, feeling a little nervous and unsure why the orc would want her near such future orc clerics "Yes, Shaman Karguk, when asked by Lady Ghorza..." Goddess did that tittle not suit the crude, rough and tumble orc cleric, but when your overlord demanded it, you used it "...I answered whatever questions as she required of me"

"Awesome and don't worry I won't be asking you to betray your Goddess or whatnot by revealing any church secrets. Oggy won't even tell me all her stuff honestly..." he paused scratching at his head "...oh yeah and no preaching less the Boss get offended..." Wifne found it very unsettling to see a cleric, and high ranking one seemingly, refer to his Patron as 'The Boss-orc' or 'Boss' in a suffering tone rather than one of fawning reverence "...see what I want is to open the little moron minds to different thinking. Which is bloody hard let me tell you!"

"Shaman Karguk Sir?" she asked back hesitantly unsure of what was being asked of her by the crazy orc shaman that Rose said might be actually a favoured cleric of his evil War God.

"The Boss is a God of Strategy, Cunning Orc Warrior that he is and all that...and...mine and Ghorza's here little minions are...not right now let's say..." Karguk stated , then sighed as the other orc shaman guffawed loudly at that "...and you can't form a strategy without understanding how the world works beyond their own narrow view of it. And you can't get to that stage with them till you open their minds to more than 'duh...fighting is good' which we're currently at. I also want you to teach all the herb-lore and such you know as well...hmmmm...treat it like an extra portion while teach little Red Rose here..."

--

[Missasri 10]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

Folding her robes inward as she slid to her knees with practiced ease Missari Bladecutter was glad of the chance to rest somewhat after another exhausting day's activity, and a little content to have a little time to relax to a degree as well. For the moment it was just her and Master Karguk, which allowed her a little more leeway with opening up than in public, or with waiting on Mistress Ogrash's permission, where Missasri had found herself to be disturbingly good at having to play the grovelling and simpering slave. That and Mistress Ogrash ruled the 'harem' with an iron glove.

Still it was an act she was now fairly sure her orcish owner was mirroring to some degree, save as the controlling orc master in his case, as well to assure his clan respected him and didn't turn on him. When in private he treated her as a person, even asking her opinion on things now as if he actually listened to her...and it seemed he hadn't bedded her as with Mara because he thought her to be unwilling. But then again he was crazy, but at least a crazy that Missasri Bladecutter could get behind these days as his success meant her continuing in this relatively safe position and his clan not murdering innocent villagers like those living here as most orcs would have done.

'Fleeing means more than just hurting myself, Gods above it was so much easier not getting to know your enemy' she mused sadly having ruled out trying such an actions in the past few months. The Orcs in general were vile, savage, monsters...yet it was really hard to hate little baby Kargash who cooed happily when Missasri held her, or even her own 'Master' who seemed to be trying to change his clan for the better. That and he had promised to free her someday as long as she served him well, and strangely she believed him even if the possibility was likely years away.

'Assuming the next caravan isn't filled with evil demon-worshiping Luskan slavers...Well you wanted adventure Wizard Girl and you're in it! Now enjoy as the Gods have a cruel sense of humour as Master Karguk says' echoed through her mind with bitter amusement, resting her hands in her lap as her orcish owner sat down beside her in a far less graceful manner with a grunt and weary sigh. Trust the luck of Missasri Bladecutter she figured to be offered the chance to buy her freedom from the inhuman monsters and to run into her City's most bitter and evil enemies in the process. Then again she was pretty sure that her orc owner was reasonably correct in that the Gods got some sort of twisted amusement out of playing with the lives of mortals...at the least the evil ones. Mystra surely wasn't like that?

"Okay another failure Godsdammitt..." the orc across from her muttered in annoyance "...what're we doin' wrong and another long bloody day at that, can't keep wasting time like this..." he glanced at her "...opinions Missy?"

"I'm not entirely sure on a solution Master but...do you wish my honest opinion on the matter Sir?" she asked back being somewhat brave and being a little more forward than usual. Master Karguk wanted the truth at all times from his slaves, but that didn't mean he'd listen immediately, or at all, sometimes when he believed he was right on a matter...and telling your Master he was probably wrong on an issue was rarely a good idea. But still her position in their little hierarchy wasn't as secure as she'd like with Mara and Kethri getting closer to him than she'd like and alone time like this with him was few and far between since returning to Sparta at harvest time.

Master sighed "Yeah sure, we're alone so criticise away. What'd I'm doing wrong do you think?"

With a thankful nod Missasri opened up the 'Experiments' book as Karguk called it, since it was filled with various practices of arcane and clerical arts along with alchemical formulas that she herself didn't quite understand as yet, to the most recent sections of the past few days attempts at direct magic, both non-divine and permanent, empowering of weapons and armour. A short list of failures and wasted materials in truth was what it was as she began speaking in what a she liked to think of as her 'scholarly' voice.

"The first attempt at Rose's mace failed because of too much power Master, which caused it to shatter, the second not enough so the enchantment bled away in reaction. Then you tried varying amounts in the next three attempts but two of those were on already completed items, and the third etching on the runes after trying to empower it during the smelting alone. And part of problem I think with that is you've been trying to brute force any enchantment rather than a specific one based on the rituals you've used so far for the Gods..." and primarily because creating such items usually required a master of the craft according to her past instructors along with quality materials rather than trying to do what Master currently trying in a backwater hamlet "...so while the casting has the power to create magical items..." probably significantly more than any mage she figured "...the actual process is probably too scatter-shot in its approach. I think it might be a better approach to enchant the spell to a scroll firstly, then utilise the ritual to bring this to the item...with the wards and runes already pre-laid and empowered on the item before doing this" she finished making eyes with her owner and was relieved to see he wasn't angered by her criticism but rather seemingly thinking on the matter.

"Well...it's worth a try and you're the magical expert oh wise Sage...so I think listening might be the best idea before I waste our blacksmith's time, our own time and magical energy and our not-at-all-infinite supplies don't you think? And nice spot we got here isn't it?" he answered humming tiredly, resting back on his elbows as they looked out over the village and fields illuminated below them by the bright full moon above. A chilly spot considering the night air Missasri found but the travel robes were warm enough, even if the bucolic village scene was spoiled somewhat by the patrols of armoured orcs wandering around them at various spot and villagers having retreated inside their stone homes.

"If it pleases you Master. And it is a nice view here Sir, thank you for letting me rest here with you"

"You deserve a break Missy, training those numbskulls and pouring our magic in these creation efforts is tiring don't I know it, so you must be exhausted from doing so..." he told her with a sigh "...anyway nothing to be done on that sadly. So let's just have a chat okay? And you can give me your opinion on things and how they're going"

"If it pleases my Master" she answered obediently but with mild curiosity, easing a little nearer to the orc. It was the third year of being enslaved by him and his clan but the past few months had been worrying her as the likes of Mara and Kethri wormed their way into his bed, and now the equally terrifying shamaness Ghorza seemed set to join Mistress Ogrash as a wife. Welding herself to Karguk as his personal body slave seemed the best course of action, no matter likely embarrassment, to stay as his favourite into the future for there to be any chance of freedom been returned.

"Eh it does, how's it going with the Six do you think? And what do you think of them?"

"They...make me a little uneasy at times being entirely truthful Master. They're lessons have been going well, they are excellent students despite everything they went through but they talk of..." she answered as best she could. The four human, and two elf, girls known by the orcs as the 'God-slaves' were...creepy...at times Missasri found; yes their young minds went through veritable hell, and she had great desire to help them, but it was less that than the fact they were definitely touched directly by the Gods. Or the fact their bodies were covered from head to toe in magical symbols and they had a serious lack of any modesty left in them. Master snorted at that.

"Dreams, oh don't I know it. The Boss and the Cave Mother visit them to 'tame and train them', so yeah, that would make them creepy even if not for their whole 'We have not yet earned Names' shtick, and been previously demon chow sacrifices. So yeah I understand. Any idea now we've been with them on what made them so appealing to the Luskans?"

"It'd be only a guess Master...but I believe that two, maybe three, of the human girls have some drop of dragon blood and are possible sorceresses...and I think one of the elf girls, the Silver-hair, has some fey blood, or something magically cold related. The girl seems to dislike the heat, completely unfazed by the cold and describes magic...oddly. So I'd say a mix of divine blood, fey blood and dragon-blooded and not any specific bloodline they share. Their stories...what little they tell...are of very different backgrounds..." Missasri hummed back describing what she'd learned. Master seemed to have hoped the Six would open up more to their fellow slaves, like herself or Mara and Kethri; but the truth was the God-slaves were too...strange...to get close too easily. Especially since every other slave, and many of the orcs themselves, were fearful of those magical slaves. Still, like those wonderful, wonderful, ancient tomes back home awaiting her study it was an interesting subject for her mind to keep distracted from her life as a slave...and make her a true wizard that could help people when she eventually returned to civilization. Something to make these hardships and indignities she was suffering perhaps worth it at the end. Still Master had a view on those books too...

"Yeah but those tomes also gave Baron Crazy-pants the ability to undeadify himself and his friends...so we need to be very careful in studying those things Missy. Though yeah, I promise you'll get plenty of time to study beside me in the future Missy, so not need to pout like that okay?..." he chuckled seemingly at her badly hid scholarly interests, then waved an arm out across the village "...heh, anyway, any suggestions for our new vassal that would make my life easier?"

"A heated bath like you created back at home Master?" she answered causing him to laugh and bring an arm around her shoulders. Strange how that no longer scared her as it did at first

"Roads and public baths, a right roman I'd be. But fuck yeah that's a great idea, I miss not always being covered in dirt all the time, and there is a stream in those caves...So yeah fuck'it, public baths it is, gives Ghorza something to keep those horny idjits busy when I'm gone..." she had no idea what a 'roman' was, but figured it just one of those crazy things that Master Karguk was prone to coming out with as he chuckled "...but more-so do you think..."

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I know a few people would prefer a diary but this is meant to clarify general background about things such as 'the Six' and the failure in attempting to craft magical items, and Missy's view on things and differing interactions with Karguk.