In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

14. Entry 14

[Karguk 27]

The Field of Blood

I was exhausted. Honestly I was too tired to even feel the biting cold fog around or perhaps even feel fear more than mild concern at our current circumstances. And those circumstances weren't exactly the best right now as I managed to gain a brief moment of respite from the vicious fighting as the latest wave of idiots retreated down the hill once again. A hill that gradually turned from the flank of the horde into a crude circular shield wall as ourselves and the Moonblades seemed to be pressed from all sides as darkness fell. And the demons came of course. I sighed. All I had to do was glance out into dark swirling fogs below us to see the bodies littering the ground before our combined shield-wall, and the sheer horrid feel of what else lurked out there in that fog to just know what we faced...

"Good Shaman, you yet live. Stay seat and recover your strength, but we must talk before they come again" the voice of Old Breyjuk reached my ears and I glanced in that direction from the temporary seating upon this old tree stump. He too appeared to carry the weight of battle upon him, as well as a slight limp on his left side as he approached me in his blood splattered armour. Thankfully despite dents and scratches it seemed none of it was his blood.

"Yes my Chief, the battle goes..." I sighed tiredly. How did the battle go? Who knew from our position beyond what brief messages Darth Phargk the Equally Pressed had passed along by magical means and we had guessed at ourselves. And while we we're standing firm, with surprisingly few loses as yet, the fact was were being pushed up the slopes and beset on all sides "...unknown to me truly I fear. Too much is hidden and only to be guessed at"

Something that was punctuated by what seemed to be a loud roar of rage or pain off in the distance – mayhap to do with the flash of light moments earlier? Or that gout of flame further east? Maybe the growing sounds of steel on steel below us to the north?

Who was to know in those dark and roiling mists, gods-damned horror film that this area appeared to have turned into in the past few hours. Were we winning? Losing? Where the fuck had our army's Centre gone? And was that bastard Wyrmog plotting?

Rose rested to my side, head resting again the back of my armour, while Missy sat cross legged with two of my Battlestaves upon the damp grass checking through the bags for what scrolls and potions we had left. Old Breyjuk walked over slowly towards me to stand before me, using his tower shield to half-rest upon as he stood there.

"Aye Shaman, that's what I'm fuckin worried about. We haven't seen sight any of the other clans for a while know even if battle seems to be goin' on down there. And I think that is maybe intended. What of that other Shaman, the one you seem so wary of?"

"I ain't heard much in the past...hour? two?..." I replied glancing up at the half-moon in the sky and trying to judge time. How long had it been? Less? More? Whatever the case it wasn't like magic communications was easy on a now demon filled battlefield

"But I am thinking the same as you my Chief. That we've been left to take the main blow as I know our Warlord had been slow to arrive to where he should have been, and the last word was one of his Fire Giant allies was a cleric wielding a flaming blade visible to Horde Shaman Phargk from afar...let alone the burst of power I myself felt"

Well I could relate that that, what with a wielding a burning white bar of light for a sword. And I suspect those occasional gouts of flame below was said fire giant forge priest and his companions off in the melee. Or it it could be demon those bastard barbarians had summoned, because damn if killing the last one to come against us hadn't been a desperate enough affair. I'd nearly wet myself why I thought it was a Balrog...which would have meant 'Thank you for playing Karguk, but now it's time to DIE!'

Thankfully thought it been merely, MERELY, a lesser demon and had only required the entirety of our army here on the hill to distract the damn dead raising abomination (because of course more fucking undead) while me and Red Branch Knights Hresgk and Darnuk killed the horrid abomination thing with my Battle-staves and War-swords in support. Thank Ilneval that it had been only a few dozen undead and some howling barbarians rather all the bodies that lay around the hill. I dread to think what the ground looks like in the light from the smell of blood, shit and death the pervaded the air.

"Haaaahhh, of course, let his rivals take the blow and then sweep in and claim the glory all for himself. A good plan in truth, Wyrmg is smarter than he seems it appears. Tricking us and those other clans his foes in us into perhaps being in Horde of the charge than on the flanks as we had believed – else why is the fight all around us?"

I nodded tiredly. It could very well be true; let his enemies take the brunt of assault then step in to win the battle with his hidden strength. Old Breyjuk though merely continued as the sounds of battle nearest us died down once again. It seemed we faced two tribes, Sky Pony and Blue Bear from the bodies according to Krowluc and the kobolds – at least the two tribes were fighting each other as well since the demons had come onto the field. I suspect the Sky Pony had been the first in for a reason and the Blue Bear had found us a tougher nut to crack than expected as our two thousand or so held firm this hill. My limping chief glanced to his side, over to where the kobold and goblin auxilia were.

"Our archers are out of arrows, and no throwing weapons remain to my warriors. I dare not risk sending any forward to loot the bodies since that last surprise attack"

"Damn, I was afraid of that" I swore softly following his gaze to the scaly little lizards that were treating their own injured at the moment or readying spears. Taking off my helmet a moment I rubbed at my cheeks and eyes to try somehow drive the tiredness from them. It failed "We still have the Ballistae and Hwacha I suppose but can't aim worth shit in this fog. Damn...yeah won't be time to get back if one of those things appeared again..." it'd been a Tanar'ri definitely, dangerous but our Ballista bolts (well the 'special' ones) had hurt it so it couldn't have been too high level. Maybe a Nabba-something from Baldur's Gate? Missy and I could figure it out later. Didn't matter, holy blades killed it because fuck unholy abominations from the Pit.

"Aye Shaman, and the Moonblades are as bad off even if there are more of them. Your magic?"

I sighed "I've held back some, but now much and I tire too. All my acolytes are in similar states, and our scrolls are down to whatever is in those bags Missy sorts for me. She is fresh, at least on spells not from scrolls as is Rose and some others, but..."

"But they are but whelps and thralls yes" Old Breyjuk said and even if that wasn't what I'd meant I just stayed quiet as I drank down a potion to regain some of my strength. Moments later some measure of strength seemed to flow through my veins once again even it was merely staving off the effects till later. I glanced up at him "Your Century...hells your Cohort my Chief?"

"About two in three can still fight as an orc should, only a few dozen dead in total it seems but the rest are injured or exhausted and not at their full strength after a night like this. We have slain hundreds I think. Such glorious deeds this day to remember for our clan...assuming we survive of course"

"Well yeah assumi..." I cut off as shouts from the battle-line off to my left altered me to what must be another attack coming against us. Thrusting my helm back on without thing I tightened its strap and grabbed my shield with my free hand as Old Breyjuk began shouting orders to his orc squad before motioning to me "Go Shaman, I'll ready my Cohort and watch for more to come"

"MY GUARD TO ME!" I called out as loudly I could, hard enough since I think I was starting to go hoarse from all the shouting this night. Rose and Missy followed in my wake as the three squads who'd been resting with me formed up slowly around me as I strode towards the sounds of sounds of distant battle, battle-cries and...cheering?

I frowned in confusion as I noticed several of the orcs in the battle line cheering as they beat weapons against their shields suddenly full of energy once again. Each step was an effort, but seemingly in mere moments I was striding through the small gap in the line to the nearest officers "Oi what's coming that's got ye lot so fuckin happy?"

A feral grin greeted me blood soaked blade pointing down the slope into the mists "See Shaman, victory it seems!"

And there emerging from the mist were dozens and dozens of orcish forms, coming up the slope and butchering a few surprised humans as they came. Then in their midst was the towering form of a fire giant even though these warriors seem to be Red Axes in the majority alongside some few of those damned fucking furries from the Bearclaws. I let a breath out in relief. About fucking time these bastards had gotten here. Still they were here and that meant we should get some respite or at worst start wiping out the rest of the Uthgarders. I put on my 'authority' voice as I stepped forward from the battle-line.

"OI UP HERE YOU LOT! WHAT WORD OF THE OTHER CLANS? HAVE WE DRIVEN THOSE HUMANS FROM THE REST OF THE FIELD YET?"

Heads swiveled towards me. A hand pointed, then others, as voices muffled by the distance spoke out amongst themselves it seemed. Rude fuckers it seemed. But then again it had been a long damned night for everyone hadn't it?

I frowned. Horns were blowing moments later as they shouted something out behind them, the towering giant in their midst giving his warhammer a test swing as the orcs around him glanced around themselves, waving their weapons and snarling at one another. Oh crap; were they retreating and there was another attack coming towards us?

"What the..." I managed to grunt out as a roar emerged from those below us, as something was snarled out by the giant, warhammer pointing in my direction it seemed and suddenly the warriors coming from the mists were charging at us...

"SHIELD-WALL! SHIELD-WALL NOW!" I managed shout in the confusion, desperately bracing my own shield and trying to backpedal to my escort. I never made it. Something with unstoppable power slammed into my shield, pain erupting through my arm and body as the world...seemed to fly by me...

...Gods it hurt, what happened...need to...

...who was shouting?...magic?...I...it hurts...hurts...

...need to get...need to...get...hurts...

...it was so dark...why was it so dark?...I...I...

...someone was above me...it was dark...who?...

...light and power and pain filled me. The smell of grass and the fields was...

I screamed. Then darkness.

--

[Missasri 15]

The Field of Blood

"NO!" it seemed to erupt out of her lungs as she saw him fly backwards from the front of the orcs line at the force of the Fire Giant's hammer's thrown directly at Master Karguk. Shock warred with panic within her a moment as her owner's chainmail clad form tumbled back into the ground metres in front of her. Her legs were moving unbidden, dashing forward to the unmoving form on the dark cold ground uncaring of the roaring of battle-cries from orcs and the armoured giant storming forward. Why was she always so useless? First Dargan, now Master Karguk...it was happening all over again; the end of her hopes and dreams and maybe dying on some unnamed field on a dark cold night.

"Master? Master? Can you hear me? Sir?" she asked shoving past Master's escort who were forming a shield wall of their own around his still form, and two of his Warswords were frantically doing...something with a rapid chant. He was breathing at least she saw, checking at the bloody and battered orc as the sounds of blades clashing mere metres away came to her ears. She roared at the orcs around her "HEALERS NOW!"

A rough hand shoved her out of the way, sending her stumbling to the ground at one of the warrior's legs as a young feminine voice snapped at her "I'm here Missy, now get out of the bloody way and defend us while I heal him!"

"Rose...is he..."

"BE QUIET!" the armoured girl snarled back before she turned her focus back upon the fallen orc and began to pray over him, hands outstretched over his chest and beginning to glow softly in the darkness of the cold night.

As Missasri pushed herself back awkwardly to her feet a roaring scream erupted from the fallen orc's form as he spasmed violently for a moment. Rose was calling for Master to be held down, and she grabbed his right arm and held it down with all her might. One of his Battlestave's did likewise on the other side, while others grasped at his head and legs to pin him down as Rose chanted swiftly and loudly even if it was drowned out in the roar of battle just metres away past planted shields, stabbing spears and swearing orcs. But her whole right now was this patch of cold hard earth where a snarling, roaring, but unconscious orc was jerking violently under her...

...before suddenly going still after a deep and loud sigh that ended the roaring scream. For an eternity that was but a moment she feared he was dead, as he lay still on the ground, eyes closed but the faint wisps of breath steaming on the cold air argued different as she glanced at Rose worriedly "Why isn't he..."

Rose didn't even bother replying as she looked up at the nearest of the orcish guards, the so-called Knight Hresgk and one of the younger guards "Lift him up, he's alive but he'll be out for some time to come so we must get him away from here..."

The younger Battle-stave nearby snapped back in confusion and uncertainty "Who you humie to order..."

Something inside her snapped, voicing rising as focus and drive replaced panic and fear as orcish words erupted out of her "DO WHAT YOUR FUCKING TOLD YESHEN! OR I'LL GODS-BE-DAMND BURN YOU TO CINDERS HERE AND NOW BEFORE MISTRESS GHORZA GETS A CHANCE TO CASTRATE YOU FOR NOT DOING YOUR DAMNED DUTY! SO PICK MASTER UP AND DO WHAT SHAMAN ROSE SAYS! NOW!!" she roared at the larger orc, a faint nimbus of power starting to glitter in the darkness around her hands. Missasri Bladecutter had learned to simper and act the part of slave well enough these past few years but Master had told her if you Command Orcs in his name then COMMAND. She glanced around "AND GET MISTRESS GHORZA OR THE CHIEF AND TELL THEM MASTER IS INJURED!"

She sucked in a breath, waiting for one of them to lash out at the slave for speaking to them so. But after a moment's hesitation hands grabbed at her owner's unconscious form; lifting him up be slung over the shoulders of two of the larger and bulkier of the escort and between them follow herself over to a nearby wagon at Rose's direction. Glancing behind her she could see, between the gaps in the squad of orcs all around her, to her horror she saw that the towering giant in its armour plate had reached the top of the hill where they had stood and was swinging its weapon and smashing armed the most forward Spartan warriors aside. Unlike the weapon the armoured titan had thrown at her master it now wielded a great two handed warhammer that gave a sickening crunch as it smashed down upon one unfortunate fighter. All around them as the squad dragged her unconscious orc towards a wagon that was being hurriedly cleared off its contents by those nearest as the group arrived. Quickly they him upon it as she and Rose hopped up beside him on the platform and the warriors bunched around in a defensive position as more and more enemy orcs appeared through the misty darkness screaming war-cries.

'If you want to live, then you need to do something now' she told herself frantically glancing down at the unconscious Karguk at her feet and armoured titan battering its way through the disrupted wall of shields and spears that stabbed out it. In moments that thing would smash its way through them and be upon them here at the wagon...abandoning master meant death with all the chaos out there. Staying and doing nothing meant death when that monster strode over. Fighting was a chance however small and so Missasri Bladecutter would fight dregging up her scrap of anger and rage at these foes inside her. After she had managed to ekk out something from the early days of the nightmare began, it was now threatened by this foe. The armoured girl at her side and all the villagers were in danger. Master and those few half-decent savages here were in danger...

"Rose...guard Master, and me, while I cast..." she stated trying to sound calm to the girl and then to the squad of terrifying orcs around her, many of whom she'd helped train or at least knew by name and had so far lessened to shouts "...we...We must guard My Master as is your duty! I will cast my magics so guard me while I do!"

Without waiting for an answer she reached into the components bag at her side, pulling out the crude glass rod with pieces of fur wrap around in parts and began to chant loudly and precisely. This was not the time to fail because of nervousness or hesitation; success meant life mayhap, failure meant death. Power rose welled up within and around her as she moved her hands through the motions as directed by the spell, enunciating the words as they seemed to burn out of her memory as they were spoken. Only a mere few years ago such power had seemed beyond her, but now it was hers to command as energy seemed to crackle and build with each word and gesture...building and building within her like a coming thunderstorm. She practically shouted out the last few words, levelling her hand as the rod seemed to spark, and then disintegrate in her hands as focused all her anger and rage on a specific target as it took a step towards them...

...a bolt of white-blue lightening erupted from her pointed hand and soared forward in a flash. So bright was it that several of the orcs over whose heads it flash flinched away in fear, but that was of the after image as the bolt of pure concentrated energy closed the distance between Missasri and her target without an obstacle to delay it, nor chance to avoid or try block it. All the raging Fire Giant had in warning was a brief flash of light, followed by a sudden flare of agony as the bolt of energy ripped its way through armour and flesh...indeed spreading through the iron armour...

A feral grin came to Missasri's face as the tower tall creature howled in pain and fell backwards into the orcs behind it. Evidently aiming low had been more successful than she'd planned in going for a definite hit over risking missing – instead of hitting the stomach of the creature it had been slightly lower than intended. Still this was no time to dwell on this, nor the roars of approval, or occasional winces, from a few of the orcs near the wagon; instead her dove into the bag for the next spell. Other voices were coming from behind her but she ignored them, brandishing the scroll in hand like a weapon and chanting out once again as beneath her two of the Battlestaves who still possessed some magic after this long exhausting day and night also began chanting out their own spells at the enemy orcs before them. Moments later a dazzling wave of multicoloured lights erupted from the area of the wagon as the three spell-casters unleashed their wrath upon the disorientated and disorganised attackers. An arrow of acid slamming into the helmeted face of the shrieking giant, while dozens of enemy orcs stumbled and fell to the ground, some asleep or struggling to stay away...while the ward armour marked orcs of Sparta fell upon them with renewed viciousness.

"DRIVE THEM BACK! KILL THEM ALL!" a gruff female voice roared out behind her and a now exhausted Missasri Bladecutter as well as Rose glanced in relief at the approach of the armour clad second wife of Master Karguk. Waving a blood sword covered Mistress Ghorza strode forward with four or five dozen human auxilia and orc warriors in tow as they marched forward around the wagons; shields locked together, spears out and chanting out in unison some warsong. In their ranks she could see the Drow harlot with that silvery sword...

"Does he live?" Ghorza growled at them a moment later disrupting her thoughts.

"Yes Mistress, he lives but he shan't wake for an hour, perhaps hours or the rest of the night" Rose replied causing the powerfully built orcish woman to growl in frustration and anger.

Who then motioned at them and the guards "STAY HERE AND GUARD MY MATE TILL I RETURN! THE CHIEF TOO IS INJURED SO I'M TAKING CHARGE! OBEY THE SHAMANS APPRENTICE AND THE SLAVE MISSY. I'LL FLAY ANY WHO CAUSE TROUBLE!"

Then she strode forward, locking her shield in with the others around her. Missasri merely reached into her bag to see what scrolls remained and prepared to cast her next spell...

--

[Krowluc 09]

The Field of Blood

Krowluc found himself elevated somewhat in position over the past few hours, or at least having been turned from leader of his small band of cavalry to temporary war-chief over a hundred odd orcs from the Sparta and the Moonblades to help hold the shield-wall atop this hilltop. Something likely to do with the loss of leadership experienced over the course of the night The Spartans had found their Shaman unconscious from fighting a giant, their Chief in a similar state from multiple axe blows, while the Moonblade's own Chieftain had taken an axe to the face in the near collapse of their part of the hill several hours ago. Something barely avert by sending in his own cavalry in on foot with a hundred odd kobolds in against the breach alongside whatever injured orcs had been fit enough to move from their 'healing area' to the fight.

A brutal melee but still most of his own riders still yet lived; Adgar, Keutguk, Pukhuk and Pagh had all died. But of the others only five were injured badly enough be not fighting fit; losing the five horses had been worse in many ways as the beasts would be harder to replace than the riders. They'd still come through so far in a better state than their foes...or those they currently had as allies. How much they'd bleed the foe was impossible to tell in this dark fog; everywhere below smelt of blood and shit, but how much was the first enemy of the night and how much the second?

"Good, we are all here and we have only little time to plan before they come again" the Shaman's war-like wife stated to the circle of those who had been marked as leaders of this possible disaster. It was somewhat strange to see with pureblood orcs; their leadership had been mangled and yet they were more organised than any tribe he'd seen as yet. Despite the disastrous situation they were now in it seemed he found a better set of employers than usual here. Already he could see a path to wealth and glory here come the future...assuming they survived into the future that was.

"We cannot hold here forever Priestess, our warriors are exhausted and my father is dead and I now Chief. We have slain many, beyond many, of these traitorous fools but they seem endless in number. And the sounds of fighting to our north had begun to quieten they say" the young orc in heavy armor growled out tiredly in a tone that matched how Krowluc felt right now. Gods-damned if it hadn't been a long night and one that most likely held an even more exhausting day to follow.

"We know that Chief Jernak and I agree we must leave this field before we are overrun. Dawn comes soon and we shall slip away southward then"

The Moonblade's newly minted Chieftain hissed as did one of the older warriors at his side "And we shall be blinded too Priestess!"

Krowluc watched as the female warrior shrugged "The touch of the foul sun merely pains the warriors of Sparta, and our human auxilia...well their weak eyes see better in such hateful light. So our squads will guide you if any of your warriors are dazzled and blinded. But it is our best chance to fight free without supplies and loot; otherwise we're just running away and I ain't runnin from these fuckers - we're just changing the battlefield to somewhere else at a later date as my mate says"

'Which is important to tell them' Krowluc thought darkly nodding in agreement, soon followed by others in the rough circle here surrounded by hundreds of warriors facing outwards for the next enemy attack. If the warriors saw this as been beaten then like most orc warbands they'd break – and once infantry broke in battle it became a slaughter. Fighting their way would keep deaths to a minimum, because otherwise the whole attempt at a retreat would become a route and then they'd all be easy prey. He was reasonably confident the Spartan's could manage it but the more numerous Moonblades had taken a worse beating and might just crumble if told they were trying to withdraw.

"So what do you plan Boss?" Krowluc asked for himself and the others rubbing at his tired and sore neck muscles as he did so. God's was going to feel this in a day or so. Still it was better that and surviving, than not having it and being dead.

The armoured cleric nodded, and then gave a lazy wave towards the line of warriors facing northward where most of the orcish attacks had been coming from out in the mists "There down that slope getting worked up for the next attack most likely but we need to make them think we aren't pulling out. My mate has made..." she motioned at the strange box contraptions on wheels that had sat idle all the night so far "...the Wack-ahs but we can't see good to use'm right. Thing is we won't be able bring'em with us now and all the wounded so use'm or lose'm time – my plan is to fire them all at those traitors fucks and then do what we can to set fire to the slope below and make lots noise Make it look like we're charging down at them while we move down that other slope and push south towards the woods and hilly ground that way. The mists will hide us as it hides them now...and then we kill anyone that gets in our way"

The young Chief of the Moonblades glanced at the older warriors standing at his side, the powerfully built one with a vicious scar across his face giving a tight nod. There was no sign of their clan's Shaman or clerics at this meeting unlike with the many Sparta clan seemed to have in positions of power "Moonblade clan agrees, what warriors will go first?"

The Priestess head swivelled in Krowluc's direction "Krowluc here will be the tip of the spear with all ours and your horse-orcs, then many of your clan's warriors and some of our squads. Then the wagons with all our loot and food stuff that we can carry with those who must be healed, while we have both our clans best warriors follow on behind to bloody any fools who attempt to stab us in the back..." her head looked back at the Moonblade "...do you agree?"

Another glance to his side, another tight nod followed by agreement from the young chieftain; Krowluc stayed silent as final words were spoken between the Priestess and Chieftain before the Moonblade 'delegation' hurried off to ready their warriors for the breakout plan. Left only now with the orcs of the Sparta clan and their vassals the Priestess looked around at them "Okay Karg is out cold, Chief Breyjuk is near as bad so I don't want any fuck ups when we do this. Krowluc you will use your horse to push ahead but don't get too far ahead of the warriors on foot. Your to guide them, and us, through the sun and fog and warn of any large groups of enemies ahead of us"

He nodded obediently, screening the retreat's 'advance' he could do with his tiny band of cavalry from both clans "Yes Priestess"

"Good, the human auxilia will be around the wagons, Hresghk you will take Karguk's squad and will be in charge of my Cohort alongside Rose and Missy. You are to guard Chief Breyjuk and Shaman Karguk with your lives"

"Yes Priestess as you order" the plated armoured orc with the paladin's sword answered as obediently as Krowluc had. Priestess Ghorza then turned to the small kobolds, a 'King' and a Sorcerer, and the goblin 'Captain' standing off to the side of them "Kobolds will be on the right flank as we move, you goblins on the left. Grab any arrows you can from corpses as we move but don't get too far from the rest of us I'd say. Objections?"

Shaken heads and hissing agreement followed to show there were none "Fine I'll take Karguks Cohort behind the Auxilia and Keljarik you will be over Breyjuks one as well as your own. Once all the Wack-has have been fired you are to burn them because we can't take them with us, same with the ballistas and anything else we can't carry with us. Don't want any of those bastards getting anything of ours because it'll slow us down and have to leave it"

"Yes Priestess it'll be done as ya say"

"Now get to your squads and be ready to move on the sound of the first launch of the Wack-ha"

Krowluc strode off towards where his riders waited resting beside their mounts, slowly getting to their feet as he came into their sight. After the long night's charge nothing even had to be said as he waved for them to start mounting up and headed for his own charger. Even the Moonblade contingent, who had been problematic at first with his non-orcish rider, raised no complaints or objections as they too began to rise and get up unto their mounts. All around the 'camp' atop the hill was starting come alive once again, quietly though compared to earlier attacks and fighting. Instead as he placed is booted foot back in stirrup to once again tiredly drag himself back up into the saddle for seemingly the hundredth time this night. Checking his gear one me time he glanced around at the cavalry force forming up around him.

"Right Lads, we're going out once again and we're breakin' outta this shit of a hill and heading down the south slope since it's been quite for a while now. Dawn's not more than an hour away so any ye can't handle sunshine get some thin cloth ready for your eyes. Cuz we moving and not stopping this time lads and I ain't stopping to nurse ye milk-sops back to health. Stick with me and yer squad leaders at all costs and don't get too far ahead of them slow as fuck infantry. UNDERSTOOD?"

"YES BOSS UNDERSTOOD!" a united albeit tired shout came back from his group, then he marshalled them forward to the best ground for the best ground to move over. Behind them the orcs of both clans formed up once again, several hundred warriors falling into ranks once again and preparing for the signal to begin moving. They didn't have to wait long as the shrieking noise came from the other side of the hill along with flashes of brightness.

WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE! WHREE!

With the noise of the Shaman's strange magic weapons drowning out all the noise around him he waved his sword forward, kicking at his mounts flanks and the line of cavalry began to move once more...

--

When: Summer 1354DR, not sure exactly

Where: A cave, dunno exactly where

I'm alive it seems, but it left me aching limbs and a blazing headache that are only fading now we've stopped to rest. Writing helps me focus a little too so I'll do a short entry. Don't want to sleep till headache gone. Long story short battle's over and don't have a gods-damned clue what the state of play was – beyond Wyrmog won enough to try wiping us lot out. So I'll go with that assumption for the moment, though not sure of Darth Phargk or that Bastard Wyrmog survived the bloodbath. I'll count myself lucky I survived. Thanks to Missy and Rose I've been told so assuming I get out of this mess I'll reward them somehow.

Thank the Gods there alive and well, as is Ghorza and Lua. Tris took a blow to the leg and she's limping but she'll pull through with Lua's healing a few hours rest here. Old Breyjuk's alive thank Ilneval but in a bad state; healing magic takes you only so far with wounds and he's old. He'll recover I reckon but not till he gets proper rest, just like most of us here frankly. Everyone's dead on their feet simply put. Well I got a bit of long rest I'll admit but nearly dying via Fire Giant isn't a very good method of going to sleep. I don't recommend it to anyone. One minute it was a fog night and I was watching our reinforcements turn into enemies. Then next it was a bright sunny day, nearly midday, lying on my back on a wagon with Rose asleep beside me and worried Missy hovering over me when I awoke.

That was a fright I'll say. Pretty as peach she is but damn if was a momentary shock for me. Good news was army wasn't destroyed and I wasn't going to be killed off like so many battlefield casualties. Even better news we were on the move thanks to Ghorza along with the Moonblades in a cohere withdrawal. Bad news was we were retreating and all my wonderful toys got blown up to prevent capture. That made me a sad Karguk. Rose & Missy saving my shiny magic sword and personal gear only made up for losing months worth of work in the Hwachas and Battistas. I know Ghorza was right to prioritise food and the wounded (and the loot of course), surprised me in fact, but that don't mean I can't be annoyed at coming out weaker than before. My fault overall and my loss this day; and I'm a sore loser.

So we've marched nearly a day and a night straight and, for now, stopped here on a hilly area with some tree cover. Mostly because warriors were collapsing from exhaustion at that stage and this is the best ground we've come across after we said "Yep need to rest" out on the flats. Truth be told it's probably a miracle we made it that far without the whole thing falling apart. Because evidently it was nothing but fights in the first few hours; small skirmish fighting but still an issue to get away from before setting up camp. I didn't see any of this of course, but Missy has gone through that it was us accidently overrunning the already overrun camp of one of the Uthgarder tribes.

Thunderbeast evidently as, of course, there was a few dozen slaves taken in the chaos. Or sounds more like Wyrmogs (the Bastard!) dudes had started enslaving those taken there while looting - till our lot suddenly blundered forward and wiped them out. Stuff and prisoners changing hands in the melee. Mostly older women or those in their twenties – I suspect there were boys and men there but they didn't survive till we arrived. Our new slaves got to haul our lighter carts and gear once secured not to escape. And after that there was a few more smaller bands either fleeing the battle or taking advantage of it by robbing others. Or fighting each other. Or whatever the fuck. Because the Uthgarders are just as bad as the orcs tribes are to be entirely honest. Killing each other while we orcs kill each other. Chaotic stupid noble savages in action!

On that depressing note I shall end my tale for now. I want to have quick check of our guard details to make sure they're awake. Have to stay on guard for attack. Even now when we've pulled back. Especially now with us in this state.

--

When: 1354DR Summer

Where: Edge of Neverwinter Woods

We've moved again, further south unfortunately rather than straight back towards home. I'd Krowluc take out our remaining, and combined, cavalry force to scout out what Wyrmog is doing from up on a peak to our east. He's marching eastward evidently but our immediately problem is that there's a force of Uthgarders rallying off to our south-east. And of course all the predators attracted to the blood of battle all those leagues away now that have been stirred up. Krowluc said he could see the carrion birds over the battlefield from where they looked from. I'm not sure why that furry fucker Wyrmog is still going east, I'd have turned around and finished us off and the rest of those he'd turned on. Old Breyjuk argued from his sick-wagon that it's possibly pressure to loot what they can during the summer before returning home. Ghorza thinks he figures he's broken us despite the fact our losses aren't too bad. Relatively at least; they are bad for our numbers, Moonblades were thrice that, and we very clearly retreated.

It bodes ill about Darth Phargk and his Night-tomb clan, but I just don't know. I HATE not knowing what's going on. Information is power after all and even getting dribs and drabs of information on campaign is like pull teeth. And risking our scant resources to get that fragment of meagre information at that. I think the old bastard is too much of an old bastard to die like that but I can't rely on him being alive. Have to work on the assumption we're on our own and facing the reduced Horde as just the Moonblades-Spartans. At the cost of our twelve best scouts I've sent word back to Zah and Oggy of the betrayal we just faced. Needed my head clear to realise that important fact. Getting a small armed group back home is doable, distance isn't too far travelling light after all compared our large force. As word spreads of the battle – well this whole region will ignite as everyone comes out of the woodwork to raid or grasp for more power. Thank the Gods most of our strength is at home and our vassals here with us; rebellion would be disastrous for everyone in the valley even if they don't realise it. Primarily because we'll need to be ready when Furry Fucker and his Gods-damned Fire Giant backed Horde returns in the coming season – I WILL MAKE THAT FUCKER REGRET THINKING WE'RE A SPENT FORCE HE CAN IGNORE.

--

When: 1354DR Summer

Where: Another bloody battlefield

It seems no rest for the wicked. I'd wanted to head back to Sparta but again as always – easier said than done in actuality. Because we to solidify our alliance with the Moonblades to have even a hope of surviving the coming War in the Crags. They've a new, young, Chieftain too but he defers to the older warriors and they act more like mercenary band than an orc clan. I suppose that's why we've worked well together so far. Long story made short the issue has been where to muster our strength. They have a stronghold off in the south, far south relatively in our small world, and would like to organise there. We obviously have Sparta and I ain't abandoning our shiny new home.

We've both sent messengers to warn these homes of attacks. Now the only advantage is they were at the 'need to leave eventually' stage of Orc Strongholds – even the more successful and 'advanced' tribes still run into this issue it seems out here. No Oboulds here it seems yet beyond us Spartans. So growing population, annoyed human athorithies, and resource depletion were in part behind their support for this campaign; in basic they wanted to snag land and setup a new raiding spot. So they somewhat agreed to moving before the southernmost clans, and the Sword Mountain Icepeaks of instance, get word home and try raid Black Moon Keep as they call it. So we were near agreement...

...and then a rallied remnant of the Sky Pony Tribe, and Thunderbeasts too I think, decided they wanted to try regain some of their honour by killing any of our foragers. Not an army of them, but about two-thirds of our numbers were hovering nearby as we tried to desperately resupply things like arrows (shitty, shitty wood arrows but better than nought I say) and whatever food we could gather. Ignoring them and trying to march home, with them following and raiding then despite their lesser numbers just wasn't a risk worth taking. Or them taking us in marching formation in the forests; or a host of other dangers smaller forces can luck out against larger ones basically. So we decided to put an end to it. Marched out in the daylight this morning and that took them by surprise.

Orcs don't usually attack during the day but the daylight penalty I thought was acceptable to incur with our greater numbers and training. Today at least I was right and lots and lots of dead Uthgarders on the broken ground to my east are proof of that. Sometimes I hate been right. Anyway we raided there camp in the aftermath and that certainly helped with improving our food, haulage and arrow situation. More horses for our future cavalry we'll call the dozen odd we took. Not many prisoners of course, can't say the Uthgarders are cowards I'll say; insanely, perhaps stupidly, brave they are. In truth there too much like orc clans and the only ones you capture are the women and children. Six slaves taken from a camp of several hundred? –this lot they either died fighting or ran away in groups of several dozen to only the Gods knows where. Hopefully it'll be weeks or months before they rally again, if at all. One enemy at a time is what we need for now.

Also on a side note I suspect Wifne back in Zybelin's Drift maybe unhappy with me as I've kinda had to turn Rose (or Blood Red Rose as some call her in the army after the fighting) in a sort of aide-de-camp, or leader of her villagers at times. Ghorza had already done and I myself think it helps with the human morale after the past few weeks. She's just a girl, a bubbly ball of sunshine and I'm turning her into a murder-hobo verging on future leader of a Dread Legion. But. There's always a but in this world. But the simple fact is I need the auxilia to prove its worth – it has proved its worth to the Moonblades in the battle in many ways. Its just if they start to muster near us I don't want trouble to disrupt the system I'm creating...and too argue for taking an slaves that might be willing to fight for freedom as Janissary-lite. Though that is for the future and further thought, but I need to think of something to even the numbers facing us in the coming war. Many clans already do something similar with goblins and such, maybe I can expand on it. Whatever cost victory.

--

[Karguk 28]

A Tower, Edge of Neverwinter Woods

'Dammit, just bloody dammit' I mentally muttered to myself as I strode towards the tower that was out here in the middle of nowhere. I'd be alot happier if we hadn't blundered on the thing that positively reeked of magic thanks to my acolytes, and even happier that the inhabitants of said tower hadn't noticed us as well. Especially after they'd evidently incinerated a band of Uthgarder barbarians judging from the fireworks earlier in the night, and bodies scouts had found.

Going one step further I'd be very much happier if the Tower's owners weren't from the family I knew had setup this well disguised building. Though appearing by starlight or anyone with paranoia of illusion and charm spells was a failing to its super-camouflaged-magic-hiding. So here I walked with my small band of five acolytes towards the Tower owned by a Harpell. The blow shit up because...well because well fuck, blowing shit up was awesome...Harpell family. I sighed. Better to get this out of the way and get around them before fiery death rained down from above.

"Stop fidgeting and hold that banner clearly. Let's not start on a bad foot with the super-powerful wizard whose lands we want to pass through" I told the idiot holding the 'peace' banner. Or signal for parley or whatever. A white flag would be so much simpler I found but we worked with what we were given. I sighed again. I'd much preferred to have brought Missy but she'd heard of these people too and thought they were crazy as well. That and turning with a slave in tow might offend them...so best foot forward I suppose as I felt as much as watched the flickering of the Tower under the bright moon and starlight.

Most of all I blamed Wyrmog for all this. If that fucker hadn't betrayed us we wouldn't have had to move south, fight stupid gods-damned barbarians and go further south yet again, and now evidently be a day's hard ride from The Home of the Crazy Wizards. A whole village of Megumins; I resisted the urge to shudder at the thought. Happy thoughts Karguk, think Happy thoughts. It was hard to do with the Gandalf of the day wandering forward with two other humans on either side of his robed form. Idly I wondered if they were Robes of the Archmagi. It helped with the unease considering he at least was cloaked in magic defences of some sort. Way above my level of course mores the pity.

"Greetings! I am Karguk, your friendly neighbourhood Orc Shaman. Would you by any chance be the owner of this lovely tower?"

All three stopped suddenly staring at me. It was quite rude the way the woman on the left mouth opened wide and then muttered something silently. It put me on edge as it could be a spell, but I resisted the urge to grab for the distractions in my robe's pockets. Oh hidden pockets how I love thee in situations like this. Even if I doubt it'd do more than buy me a few metres into the tree-line. The oldest of the three, the Head Wizard and Tower Owner I assumed, blinked, looked at me closely then muttered "What?"

"Ummmm..." really what to do...I waved again "...ummm, Hello! I'm Karguk. We sorta want to pass through your lands and thought it'd be polite to ask your permission about doing said passing though. Trying to be neighbourly and all that"

The eldest wizard continued to stare at us, then started rubbing at the bridge of his nose and eyes as he muttered back to me in the Common Tongue "You're...permission to what? And you're asking?"

I nodded, be friendly, be friendly, be friendly. Client meeting face Karguk, polite, friendly professional "Indeed Good Sir Wizard. We've had a...small disagreement...with some of our other neighbours and currently want to make our way home in the aftermath. This area cuts quite nicely into the Crags and we intended to make our way back that way to avoid further trouble on the road. Sadly we didn't know you had made your home in this area till we neared here and came upon it by accident. So I thought it would be best to talk to yourselves to avoid or resolve any issues you might have with our passing"

"Did Khelban put you up to this? Or...it was Harkle wasn't it? I know it was him, it's always him ruining my quiet study time. I move out here to get peace and quiet from all those idiots back home and this is what they send me! What did put you under..."

Oh shit, this was going south fairly rapidly as the wizard started ranting softly while gesticulating with his arms in an annoyed rather than spell-casting fashion. My four acolytes were glancing at me nervously, just like the two younger wizards were glancing at the agitated one between them. Interrupting politely seemed the best idea to head off him getting more worked up. Agitated wizards were a bad idea to be around after all "Err...sorry Sir Wizard but neither the Blackstaff nor this...Harkle person, have put us up to anything I can assure. Nor am I under any sort spell other than my own. I assure you I'm merely here in a negotiating capacity for my clan, and that of our allies and vassals, to allay any concerns you may have with our presence near your lands"

"Yes, because polite friendly orcs with snobby accents are everywhere here in the North and just randomly turn up on my doorstep after the savage Uthgarders tried to attack us. Because of course" the evident Boss wizards said back in a mildly sarcastic tone hand going back to his staff and he himself just shaking his head. Nothing threathing yet at least even if I wasn't getting the result I wanted. Good thing I drank that calming draught before I came here or I'd right stressed about the whole situation. Well more stressed at least than I was. So honesty was the best policy.

"Well the other lot aren't very friendly like we are, but we merely wish to traverse your lands without causing any trouble. Our conflict is purely with the Uthgarder tribes and the Orcish Horde to the north of here...or at least it was in that direction according to the latest scout reports...and we are nothing like them and hold no hostile intentions towards you, or towards Longsaddle and the Harpell family. At least I assume you are a Harpell Sir Wizard, apologies if I'm incorrect as that is what I was led to believe..." I trailed off uncomfortably having said a bit more than I'd intended. I tightened my grip on my own staff. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Think before you speak idiot!

"I don't even...fine. You're friendly orcs with poncy accents. Of course you are. We'll go with that then...look you go on your merry orcish way through the pass as long as you stay away from the environs of this Tower unlike those bloody fools earlier. I have so many questions but I'm afraid the answers will make the world make even less sense than it does right now. You know of my family it seems? Indeed I am a member of the Harpell family, I am Malchor Harpell and you are correct in that this is my Tower as you have guessed. Now Orc will you be near my Tower for long?"

I shook my head in the negative "No Milord Harpell we shan't tarry in your lands upon my return to our camp as we are in rather urgent need to continue our journey. Baring of course you are open to trade of any sort before we continue onwards?"

He was back to rubbing the bridge of his nose and muttering "...never...bel...Khel...famil...orcs..." then sighed looking back at me as the other two continued to stare at me. It was uncomfortable to be stared at I found "Trade?...Gods...okay what exactly?"

"Well Sir Wizard...I mean Lord Harpell, we would be most interested in purchasing foodstuffs and other refreshments for our journey home for which we would exchange coin and other valuables if that would be acceptable to your esteemed self"

--

When: Month of Tarsakh, so technically Spring 1354DR feels it should be Summer though

Where: Far too close to the Tower of Twilight, and by extension Longsaddle, for my liking

Okay, long story short we're encamped very near somewhere that could probably single handed destroy this entire fighting force. This may sound like a very stupid thing, and it really is I assure you, but there are reasons ranging from blundering somewhere we wouldn't be normally and being undone by my paranoia/training regime. Retreated forced us south and scouting revealed hidden magical tower, because I have well trained magic sniffing scouts who, well, sniffed it out. Which made we approach said magically hidden tower's owners because I was afraid of death from above raining down if I didn't head it off. Much like those Uthgard bastards who evidently tried Leroy Jenkinings the Tower filled with Wizards. Darwin Award for them!

Anywho turns out if we'd continued on our merry way and left the place be there'd have been no interaction between me, my clan, and the lunatics known as the Harpell family. Because Orc hordes regularly wander through, as do Uthgarders, and they don't give two-shits unless said hordes marching over the roses or whatever; that or charging at the tower like idiots. Or Uthgarders, same thing really I suppose. So my best option was to pretend we saw nothing, avoid trespassing, and go on our merry way and nobody would have cared a bit. I did not take the best option. Because I too am and idiot – though we shan't tell anyone that little piece of info in this here army. Got to look like I'm a wise shaman providing vital leadership and decisive decisiveness rather than 'OMFG HARPELLS! ARRGHHHHH!!! TELL THEM WE'RE FRIENDLY!!!" which was in my mind at the time. That and I lucked out and got one of the non...lesser...crazy members of that esteemed family. Yay I suppose?

So I'm in a bit of a bind because I opened my stupid orcish mouth. A potentially dangerous one from my clan's point of view by making some very powerful people aware of our existence well before I'd have liked them to. Of course my preferred time for that reveal would be never or when we're marching triumphantly over their corpses in the case of enemies so word getting out had to happen someday I figure. I just would have preferred it not be till after the Boss's big play, or whatever he's gonna do, during the Time of Troubles. See I have super-duper prophesy powers! Sigh, but no damned ability to know what changes I've made to the timeline as things are evidently spirally out of control from what should be. I'm reasonably sure Luskan and Neverwinter shouldn't be at war quite yer, and that the King of Shadows thing sorted – but evidently the second is still a thing and the first is already supposed to have kicked off rather bloodily. Though their just rumours from the lunatics in the Tower so I take it with a grain of salt.

So unto what I don't want to talk about. Mainly that we have to talk to the Harpell family because me opening my big orcish mouth has confused and interested the sane(ish) one here named Malchor and he's told his less sane family and they want to 'meet' us. Because friendly orcs aren't a thing here of course – or at least once we convinced him we were in fact Orcs and not magically transformed actors send by a bizarrely long list of people wishing to 'ruin his quiet time' evidently. Fuck we're buggered is what I thought of that idea. Sufficed to say I smiled politely as possible and told him that I was most interested in developing friendly relations with Longsaddle and the Harpell family. Not a word of a lie there either. No way am I lying outright to a dude who might have a magical bullshit detector somewhere, or a spell on his person. So sure as fuck I'm interested in peaceful and friendly relations with this lot when their all wizards and call on yet more like the Blackstaff over in Neverwinter. Hopefully he's too busy with Luskan right now to worry about orcs in the middle of nowhere who speak classy Common Tongue.

Operation Refuge in Audacity as such is my response to this incredibly dangerous situation. If we can't sneak away and have already gotten attention then we're going to be the friendly gods-damned orcs these lunatics have ever met before. I had tea with the Wizard (never liked tea a life ago but it grows on you after months back in the wilds and nearly dying!) and talked about happy-happy sunshine bullshit like trading with them and us not getting in their way by raiding and stuff. Peace and Love and all the groovy sunshine. Because they have walking WMD launchers and we have pointy sticks. And I'm a rational and pragmatic orc – of course I want peaceful sunshine relations with them! On a side note; it would be really useful for gaining access to supplies from the civilized races that we don't have normal access too. I'd love to say Mithral and rare ingredients but really it's more along the lines of quality wagons and horses for transport, and for supplies to build all things I want to in the valley.

On a final note I'll add it will eventually give me a means to allow Missy to return home, though not yet or likely for at least another year. She's done enough to justify freeing in my view but I need to do it all officially and on a security front I'd like to her to be around till after the valley is secure. She saved my life (which makes up for trying to kill me and maybe killing...Da and the others. I...it doesn't matter) she saved my life and has been an overall good person and deserves a future. For now all I can do is ensure she gets trained under Doctor Ned (again assuming we survive that long) and elevate her to as high a status within the clan as I can considering her enslavement. Like right now with the Harpells I'm walking a tightrope between power forces outside my control and the culture of my people. And a short term decision based on morals could cost us everything in the long run. Just time, I need time and peace with others till we stave off our enemies.

--

When: Month of Tarsakh, 1354DR

Where: Fortified Camp near Tower of Twillight

Gods there's more of them!

Each more hyper-actively crazy than the last!

And once again 'Are you sure reallllyyyyy Orcs?' questioning from the brief meeting this morning before they were all bundled off to talk inside the tower with the sane(ish) member of their family. He moved away after all; that speaks well of his sanity after five minutes with the rest of them. Even Missy is afraid of them evidently from the stories she'd heard in the Academy. I have not asked what these stories are nor will till we are far, far, far, away from here.

Otherwise I've done my best to keep the Moonblades in line by stressing in great detail why we don't want to fuck with these people while at the same time taking whatever precautions I can considering the circumstances of the walking WMDs nearby. Our camp is just inside the Neverwinter Woods; was some cave bears in a cave and they made a nice stew while their caves made a nice place to form the came around. That and building the standard fortified camp gave our battered army something to do in the mean time. Other than fixing equipment and trying to fashion really low quality arrowheads of course. We've been somewhat short on those since the battle.

Anyway I've had my merry minions carve and enchant as many wards as they can into the walls and rest of the camp as they can – if worst comes to worst it might allow some of our number survivability. I may not be a very good wizard but I've got ritual magic down pat thanks to the Boss to some degree as well as dear dead grumpy old Vretkag. Damn if I don't miss that old grumpy bastard; even if he did worship a right moron of a Deity from the pantheon. So here I sit writing because I hesitant to sleep as when I wake again I'll have to deal with a room full of crazy people who can make things go BOOM by pointing at them. Fucking joy. Though I'm going to stop that now as Missy is suggesting I rest and wants to give me a back massage to unwind my stress. It's not a bad idea honestly and I do need to sleep. Always bad to talk with a dozy head on you after all; especially magic dudes in robes who cause sanity slippage.

--

When: End of Spring, 1354DR

Where: Still here in the loony bin

Okay. Still alive and even better still sane despite still being here amongst these people. I'm trying negotiate a peace between us and would rather not have to listen to constant questioning on orc society and tribal norms, and why exactly we're such 'gosh darned friendly' compared to most orcs. That and one of them constantly annoying Lua about Drow society and pretty much the same as the two nerds constantly hovering near me to write their 'Treatise on North Orc Societies'. To shut them up I have agreed to help them write this nonsense...at a much later (undisclosed) date so that I can engage in actual negotiations with their leader, the also sane(ish), Ardanac Harpell. Well once I show them that...Yes I am literate and can write thank you very much. Bloody wizards.

Good news. Kay...ummm...our two clans no longer have 'kill on sight' rules when getting near either the Tower or Longsaddle. I've clearly explained and given examples of the our Sparta one and that of the Moonblades, while also detailing information on Wyrmog's crew. Very useful information in case anyone wanted to rain death down upon them suddenly. Though sadly that isn't going to happen anytime soon, this lot only really care about their own little area of the world and the Furry Fucker seems to be heading northwards in the Mirabar region. Well likely south of that area as Horde's don't try to hit places like that without numbers. Even if the Axe is only about two or three thousand strong as best I can tell. Discipline and better equipment, plus murder-hobos, makes a difference in death world Toril.

Anyway we're getting somewhere, and even had some trade – or at least pre-trade as they agreed to send on wagons of certain goods and we showed them our exchange. Yay I guess. Missy and Rose are happy as I'm getting them shiny, shiny jewellery. Well Missy is happier with the prospective scrolls and potions I might be able to get her. I was concerned about her and trying to escape, especially with a pre-emptive promise from her not to try doing so and that she trusted my promise to free her within the next two-three years. Or maybe it could be the fact many of my orcs are now scared shitless of her. That probably helps some along with sharing some of the loot with her as part of my Household. Still guard is high on the camp and the Harpells haven't raised an issue over the whole evil slavery deal – then again nobody up here would trade with you if that was the case. Though staying off their land to do is an obvious part of that little legal fiction. Sometimes I hate the way my mind has to work these things to keep all the balls in the air.

Lua of course is now regretting becoming part of my 'negotiating' team thanks to 'Treatise on Drow' wizard and Rose is greatly amused. Because I've gone for a diverse negotiating team of Me, Rose, Lua, a silent Moonblades Chief (because I warned him to shut up) and Ghorza (who also has been warned) I suddenly realised I may count as an evil overlord army. What with it being made of up of orcs, goblins, kobolds, humans, half-elves and of course a Drow. Yeah let's just ignore that thought for the moment. Missy is absent for obvious reasons. That and she doesn't want to be within a hundred metres of the Harpells. Understandable really, I can relate. So she's currently getting to work on her magic with my acolytes in the few days since arriving here. Which is also...an issue with the Harpells; because fuck if I want to have them anywhere near Sparta or otherwise combustible orcs. Doctor Ned the Dread Necromancer is already a big ask.

Anyway must go for the day as Missy wants to go through lessons for the day. Hopefully we'll be able to move soon, I don't like sitting still with the stronghold under threat. Maybe tomorrow or the day after. Slan go foil a chara.

--

[Missasri 16]

Near a Tower, Edge of Neverwinter Woods

She dashed the last few metres then through the flaps of the tent to get away from the heavy rain that had begun to pour down from the heavens above. The guards at her side halting, to chat with two already standing guard already, at the covered area outside the large tent-like building in that cover from the rumbling downpour above. A space that had been the shelter she had shared with the rest of the 'household' these past few days; though only her master was present at the moment thankfully she mused giving him a bow and a greeting of 'Master' upon noticing him sitting in the furs a tome in hands.

"It's really coming down out there from the looks of you and that rumbling..." he asked in a tired tone illuminated by the lantern on the rock nearby "...how did the lessons go?"

"It went well I think Master, at least till the weather turned against us around the time the winds began to pick up and rain fall. They've gotten to where you wanted Sir and there was no trouble or issues either" she answered honestly pulling off the somewhat damp robes she had wore for the day and hang them to dry on the wooden stand nearby. Shivering slightly as she did so as the wind whipped in through the flap in the tent and through the small gaps in the 'foundation' as it whistled faintly; unfortunately one couldn't set up a fire inside a tent after all as that had bad results. Even without adding orcs to the mix...orcs, fire and tents were a dangerous mix after all at the best of times she'd found.

"No one was casting I hope...and aren't you cold?" came back that tired and now an evidently mildly exasperated tone as she used a cloth wrap to dry her hair and skin. Truth be told she was a little cold, but in but a moment she would be under those nice warm, comfortable, furs that just sang to her right now of their warmth and comfortableness. Still she smiled faintly in amusement at his tone mixed with the fact his eyes still followed her in spite of the question as she gave him a deliberately teasing bowing-curtsy "My Master is kind to worry for this poor slave"

Master snorted in bemusement, and embarrassment as well perhaps, as best she could tell at her antics "Hmmm...not going to complain but laying it on a bit strong aren't we? When I said you had more rights I figured you'd be less...well...ummm..." he waved vaguely in her direction as straightened, placing the wash cloth back by the water pail and then quickly tidy her hair.

"Apologies Master but you have thoroughly corrupted me I fear and I see no point in false modesty at this stage unless you wish it" she answered politely striding over towards him at his waved direction. A part truth; she dropped any embarrassment at being as was now in naught but a collar in the first few months of enslavement after all. No but that wasn't the reason in totality as in truth she found this strange relationship she'd manage to create with him both beneficial and strangely welcome at times. Maintaining it...growing it even, was something she wanted to do quite firmly. Most of the orcs were savages just like those filthy elves from the woods, but there was a real chance her to grow in her powers back in the stronghold and upon her freeing she could do so much good in the world. With her help her owner could too if she could get him to listen to her as did often enough...

...and going home now, so close to a way out. It scared her. What could she tell Dargan's and the other's families and friends? Did she want to return to a gilded cage of the family home? Some days it made her want to weep at being stuck here, but the opportunities she seen. The power she'd gained! Tomes from a pre-Nethorese settlement, a true Master of the Craft to teacher (even if he was a Necromancer) and she had wielded the lightning herself to slay a Fire Giant! Power, true power was within her grasp. Assuming they got away from and survived these dangerous wizards her instructors had warned her and her fellow apprentices of in the Academy. A small shiver escaped her...

A heavy bear fur was thrown around her shoulders as she sat down on those lovely warm blankets "Here my 'poor slave' as you put it this might help with the fact your cold enough to be shivering..." a book was pre-offered, a 'bookmark' as her owner called sticking out from the tome. Volo's Guide to All Things Magical she saw with a smile "...and here, marked where you last stopped reading"

Killing a Fire Giant had brought a significant elevation in status in the eyes of the rest of the orcs, and this had seemed to be viewed by her orc as an excuse to move much of her 'private-time' rewards and indulgences into 'public view' as he called it. Much to Missasri's delight of course as Mistress Ghorza now treated her more akin to Rose, or her soldier underlings, than as the menial slave before; rather Master seemed to trying to get them to treat her as he did. As a high ranking servant of the household, much like her own family had given those of lesser status a chance to be useful to their betters. Gods above if this was the benefit of killing monsters and other orcs who weren't friendly with her orc and his clan...why she'd have started doing it much sooner!

"We'll be leaving soon so I'm afraid you won't get much time to enjoy till we get back home" he continued from beside her as she made herself comfortable sitting cross-legged to more easily read the book now resting on her knees. She glanced up at him curiously.

"When do you plan on doing so Sir?"

He grunted muttering "Yesterday if I could" before sighing a moment, then continuing more clearly "Two days if the weather clears, four if it doesn't or this...Treatise...business drags on. Agreeing to it to humour that lot was a mistake but I'm afraid if I don't get it done, or Lua's either, a few of them will follow along behind us like a volcano waiting to blow at any moment"

She hummed in thought as she opened up the book to the last passage she had studied "A wise decision Master, the city elders of Neverwinter hold such a view as well in regards this...family"

"Hmmm, yeah I can see why, I'd heard stories but they are...um...exuberant I'll give them that. I get why Malchor setup the Tower out in the middle of the wilds, him and their leader are decent enough sorts. And once you get past the constant questions on everything under the sunfrom the rest of them it was a relatively profitably trade. On that note...I'm going to give you a portion of what loot we managed to salvage, or more honestly I'll give you some coin and jewellery that'll be yours. Your property and we'll record that"

She blinked looking up at him from the passage as he moved to rest back on his elbows "Sir?" it was absurd after all. Slaves by their nature didn't exactly own things. He glanced at her a tired smile on his orcish face.

"I'm serious about freeing you Missy, you've done your time truly but we need to start working towards that goal in more concrete ways. And I want to set an example for freeing others down the line as well...and really you'll need something in terms of money once you get out and back to, in-theory at least, civilized lands. Or even have you buy your freedom as some orcs and goblins other clans enslave I've heard done. Whatever has to be done basically so I don't get blow-back and you're the only one that's freed. Though I'm going to offer you choices in that Missy"

She blinked feeling strange as she focused all her attention back on him "Choices Master?"

"If I'm to free you Midwinter is my best bet, the whole clan is assembled and everyone's in feasting and fucking mode. But I want to set an example, I want...I need...this to appear a decision of strength to them that others might follow suit in times to come, or if I die. That nearly happened if not for you if you recall?" patting her knee a moment as he lay back to stare up at the ceiling with a groan "So I'd when your freed I'd like you to stay a while, a few seasons, a year, we can discuss that in the months to come. I'd like you stay as an apprentice to Doctor Ned, if anything when we get back I'm going to give you more time for your own training if I can, at least equal to my own...sorry on a tangent. When I free you I'll offer you some sort of reward or sign of my strength, generosity, whatever nonsense works for the clan basically. I'm thinking offering you a house in Zybelin's Drift, or a plot of land, a tome or..."

Evidently he noticed her eyes light up "...NO, not one of those Tomes my dear. Though staying in Sparta means you get to study them to your heart's content under my protection till you bore of them by the way"

Her mind was all a jumble, though she should be used to that as her master had a habit of doing that without realising it she'd found. The book was discarded as turned to look down at him, startling the larger orc slightly as she her hands on his chest and just stared at him. At her continued silence he looked confused as he muttered "What?" then sighed once again "Look I'll not force you in this, I'll keep my word and if the first thing you want upon being freed is to march out the gates I'll do naught but be sad, wave and wish you the very best in life Missy. You've earned that right, in my eyes at least. But what of Mara and Kethi, and all the other slaves? They don't have your skills or anything to go back to. It'll be years at best before I can free them, and freeing them likely isn't any great mercy to cast them out into the wilds. The villages aren't a bad place I think and..."

She laughed suddenly and softly, it felt strange to genuinely laugh and smile at something so absurd as she rested against a even more confused orc. That amused her even more for some reason as she caught her breath and let it out again. This was just ridiculous. Oh she believed him but that didn't make it not ridiculous "I don't think I'd make a very good farmer Master, or would the girls be either. Though I don't doubt 'fuck an orc, get a farm' will be seen with favour amongst those that the clan has enslaved however insane it sounds"

Master huffed as she looked down at him "It's not an insane way to free slaves. Nor are we calling it that I think in an official capacity. It's this whole world that's fucked up and crazy! And I'm the only sane one on it sometimes I think!"

--

Okay this was just a chapter about interactions and a vague outline of what the SI is thinking on Missy and such post-Fire Giant and next the column will be on the move once again back home and the aftermath of the battle.

When: End of Spring / Start of Summer

Where: Neverwinter Wood, South-West of the Tower of Twilight

Well we survived the Tower of Twilight and subsequent arrival of the Harpells so that's good. They also haven't followed us which is even better in my mind. In part why we're heading south-westward at the moment even though Sparta would have been in the Crags and therefore northward of where had been. The other reason is we intend to hit the Icepeak clan's stronghold before we and the Moonblades separate our forces as we return home for the summer t rebuild. Honestly I'm not one-percent enthused about the idea but there is strong enough strategic concerns to aim for attacking them before this separation. From our point of view, well mine, is that we need to prove we're not beaten to the other clans in the Crags and the Woods; after retreating from battle and the Furry Fuckers 'Great Victory' that is factor.

Secondly we're resupplied and rested thanks to our little excursion to the magical-sunshine-happy-place for almost a week, so if we're going to do it now would be the time to go about it. Thirdly knocking out enemy clans now while their weakened means less enemy troops when that backstabbing bastard and his band of traitors return home – though I'd much preferred if we we're going after those Red Axe backstabbers. Kurnak will deeply regret switching sides if I have my way about it. Finally we don't know the fate of Darth Phargk and his clan, or any who sided with them, if any, so numbers are already badly against me and clan. We need to keep the Moonblades on side or we're truly screwed; and the Moonblades want to clean the path for their movement northward to Crags.

So for now we're hugging the northern bank of either the Neverwinter River, or one of the tributary rivers perhaps, and avoiding heading deep into the Woods proper. Though that's sort of a lie in a way as where the Crags begin and where the Woods end (and vica-versa) is impossible to accurately discern beyond the forests get much thicker and the wild life changes somewhat. Wildlife that's been stirred up quite battle by all the movement in past few months, from our own presence, and (of course) from Uthgard warbands fleeing in this direction. Though I doubt that they'd call it fleeing mind you. Thankfully we're a decently large and well armed expedition, with decent enough woodland knowledge, so aren't exactly a favoured target from any of the happy woodland creatures or the more intelligent forest dwellers.

It those mean unfortunately that our progress hasn't been overly fast between creating a trail for our wagons, not spreading out and risking those on the fringes being attacked, and of course the need to stop to rest like now with attendant setup of defences. Nothing spectacular I admit but hopefully enough to keep out sneaks trying to get into te camp, or slow any attack to get organised as a fighting force. That and keep the rain out – it's been a bloody wet end of spring-start of summer these past few days I'll say even if the cloud cover has helped with the speed of our allied clan and their warriors. Good few chills and minor fevers doing the rounds on the column but then again we've got alot of clerics and the discipline I've drilled into them. Between basic (really basic) hygiene measures, clerical healing and most of us being orcs losses have been next to nil due to disease. Or not having the usual orc horde stupidity of random killings of 'injured weaklings' or trusting completely in our powerful constitutions.

--

When: 1354 Dale Reckoning, Has to be Summer by now I figure

Where: Neverwinter Woods/Crags

What the fuck is it with suicidal elves attacking us?

Like really I get the orc hate from elves, and orcs for elves but generally even my lot avoid going after a superior force of the pointed eared fucks. Though what constitutes a 'superior force' for elves over orcs tends be much smaller in numbers thanks to standard orc doctrine of a hack, a slash and a fine brave death like Wildlings vs Westerosi on another world. So perhaps the reason behind the idiocy?

Anyway we're resting up again, been a few days march and we'd started to near our objective when – BAM! Attack of the Woodland Elves. Or more accurately we'd made camp for like the third time and this bad of elven geniuses attempted to sneak into our camp to steal shit, or kill us, or kill us and steal our shit from our cold dead hands. Band of about eight of them, adventuring team style too; a mage, a druid, defo two of'em were rangers and other four were either rogues or fighters preferring light armour or bows I'd guess. Didn't take any alive so don't know for sure of course.

But yep bold as brass they were trying to sneak past our pickets; or more-so kill four of my boyos before the alarm sounded. Angry at that, and of course the fact they managed to get into the camp worryingly far in my mind. Long story short they we're expecting a dozen or more fighter-mages to turn up alongside an equal number of acolytes and a boatload of kobold archers. By the time I'd arrived they'd already been pin-cushioned or incinerated so one can only guess at the insanity behind them. Or they were just that murder-hobo band that seemed to wandering about before Wyrmog tried to jam a knife in our collective backs.

Good that can be taken from this is that between our wards and pickets it seems we have decent chance of detecting those trying to infiltrate the camp. Still despite that nugget we're increasing the number of guard shifts a little just in case, especially as we're nearing the enemy stronghold's territory in the next few days. After all there's gnolls nearby as well, though I think (well hope) their less suicidally stupid in their thought processes as to come after us. But one worry I do have is a sudden strike by whatever warriors the Icepeaks have back in their tower on our forces here. It's something Old Breyjuk suggested they might try, and I know Zah would like it – and I do recall in my past life battles where such surprise attacks have wrecked larger better organised forces despite all their advantages. Anyway must rest now to restore myself somewhat. Slan.

--

When: Summer, 1354 DR

Where: Neverwinter Woods/Crags

Okay weird occurrences and I'm not sure where to start honestly. Well okay we're effectively besieging the Icepeaks stronghold – which turns out to be a hill fort built on the top of a hill outcrop. Basically its two ancient broken down towers near some caves, with the old stone wall so ruined as to be worthless so they've thrown up a crude wooden palisade. There a quick clash between us when we appeared, till they realised our numbers and figured they'd a better chanced up the slopes where our numbers can be easily brought to bear. How very unorcish of them; I hate it when my enemy shows a little common sense. Sadly this wasn't the weirdness nor the problem.

No the weirdness started when a band of murder-hobos turned up at the rear of our small army under a flag of truce. And two Harpells in tow - now my initial instincts at this stage was "OMFG Harpells! They followed us home and we're all gonna dieeeeee" quite honestly. Despite how reasonable a response that might be, or my secondary urge to fill them full of arrows because...ya know...murder-hobos turning up an orc camp means bad things usually...we opted for talking. Because it would stupid of me to throw out our terrifying wrought negotiations with that family and risk definite flying wizard death over potential wizards blowing us alongside themselves with their own stupidity. So that's the start of the weirdness – Harpells and friendly murder-hoboes wanting to say hi to some orcs. I prefer being on the side of the weirdness giving than the receiving of it thank you very much.

So murder-hoboes and (thankfully not the powerful) crazy wizards turn up on our doorstep just we're about to storm the enemy base. Yeah see remember those letters we found in that abandoned hunting lodge with all the dead dudes and elves? Well I forgot about them too, they got thrown in the 'not important, read later' bag and what with the campaigning and battle and then retreating had totally forgot about them. Well beyond telling a rough tale of our adventures and what swell guys we were and totally not like the 'evil Wyrmog' to the Harpell family.

Evidently I must, or Rose or Lua did, have mentioned Ye Olde Hunting Lodge and our burying of the dead and then the band of brave adventurers turn up seeking out said place and stuff from there. So they go to Longsaddle get told this bizarre story of orcs, decide to play heroes (because of course they did) and then arrive at the magic-tower-of-doom - to get told everything is hunky-dory and we're friendly orcs and no need for murder-hobing right now. Oh and that we mentioned something about a hunting lodge and weirdo elves being assholes. Sigh. Loose lips sink ships Karguk. Dooh.

Anyway so they arrive, which sorta explains the whole crazy elves thing of the past while I guess, and confuse the fuck out of me for a while till Missy reminded what in the name of the Gods they were on about. Now took a little while to find these letters amidst the clutter of the messy runaway bag, and they were allowed camp at the edge of our camp – all which stalled our attack. Ya know, just in case more back-stabbing. And turns out they were followed, or that group of elves that were sneaking had mates nearby sayeth our new...friends. Either or, but same result really; an unknown number of elves at our rear, a hostile orc force before us and a bunch of muder-hobos and two crazy wizards in our midst.

Hence why I'm writing trying to clear my head and deal with all this. Because we need our deal with the Harpells and Longsaddle, but there not confidence of fighting their way out as these are like apprentice Harpells or something and the elves are murder-hobos too. Or at least more numerous or higher levelled than this band of six with them. Giving them said letters doesn't make my problems go away. Wait. Need to think; back in a bit.

--

Bollocks. I just realised I'm in the middle of their quest-line most likely. Since we're not killing each other I assume friendly or neutral NPC...shite I'm the quest-giver aren't I?

Need to think this through. Gonna talk to the others and see about this.

--

Okay. Killing many birds with one stone. Maybe. We are assaulting Icepeaks just after dawn to take advantage of us keeping them busy all night and our not having a daylight penalty. As quest-giver I have given the murder-hobos their quest!

Letters and many, many, shinies in exchange for helping with the attack by going around the side of the stronghold and distracting the enemy, or breaking in and killing their leaders. Murdering little orc babies and females though I've warned them means us killing them in many painfully creative ways. The two Harpells (the female one reminding me disturbingly of Megumin once again and the male of a dude on a coffee and sugar high) get to stay in a nice comfy tent drinking and eating fruit so they don't die nor blow us all up by accident in the dying.

I reckon the murder-hobos have a decent chance of surviving this as they seem a relatively experienced group and not stupid for murder-hobos. At least Krowluc says so and he's pretty experienced in that area from been a mercenary and having low opinions in general of standard PC fare. Oh structure of them you might wonder?

Female human paladin (that's rare here in the North actually) and like typical paladins seems to have a stick permanently up her arse and isn't murdering us all because she swore oaths of peace. Then a grumpy male dwarf (they're all grumpy I find) who I assume is a fighter and settles for glaring at us all and harrumphing to himself. No wizard bizarrely enough, but they've got a female Halfling who I'm sure is a cleric of Yondalla with her colours, armour and mace. Only a guess though. Two more male humans; guessing either fighters or fighting style thieves like good old Etlin as they've got good leather and fur armour, bows, throwing daggers and short swords. Finally then another Halfling, a female bard and it's never good in my view when the Bard is your magical go-to but who am I to criticise?

Hopefully they do what's needed and managed to survive but not really my concern. Our assault sadly is going to be pretty unsubtle – attack straight up the two clear paths on the slope with troops in shieldwall and testudo formations. We'll hit them with magic and arrows and then storm in with the best armed and armoured warriors at the front of the formation. They'll see it coming no matter what we do but hopefully the combination of sun in their eyes, our better discipline and the muder-hobo distraction will get them to break and run or even throw in the towel. Whatever the case I've setup a defensive position in case these elves attack, or the adventurers attack or, or a host of other things while I'm distracted. And now I must go as it'll be dawn soon.

--

When: Summer of 1354 Dale Reckoning

Where: Former Stronghold of the Icepeaks

Good news; we won, they lost let us all celebrate. Funky disco dance!

Or let's not. Anywho I'm sitting inside the post-sacked Icepeak fortifications, well upper floor of the larger tower in said stronghold, after a very, very long day getting to this point. It's the least bloodstained room in the tower after all, and it's already been looted of anything that wasn't nailed down to join the growing pile on the open area beneath us. Well most of the stuff, there were a few tatty books and 'useless' magical items up here that I've claimed in the names of Me, Myself and I.

Nothing much of any great significance as best I can tell; but better safe than sorry so those I can't identify have gone into the magic lockbox-of-shit-I-don't-know and we'll have a chat with my team of mages back in Sparta later. Other than that I've decided to give up my share of the loot to my subordinates and appear the soul of generosity and blah, blah, blah, for the clan – basically got dibs on some of the better armour sets and made sure they got our best performing squads. Then between and Old Breyjuk made sure the shiny, shiny, coins got divvied up based on who led in the assault and in general did the most fighting. And...all the other unsavoury aspects of a sack-in-progress that occurs when an enemy just won't call it quits or even run when a functioning brain would tell you otherwise. Not fun, not fun at all at all I'll say.

Long story short it was a long and bloody assault to take this place. A long time for us, bloody for them to be more honest. Not that we didn't take losses, because we did and not insignificant ones for an orcish force of our size to be honest. But well armoured warriors in disciplined formation, backed up by archers and mage support are still deadly in assaulting light infantry with skirmisher support. Especially when those you're assaulting don't really believe in 'cowering' behind walls, understand how to fight on the defensive in a fort, and are dealing with murder-hobos appearing in their rear area. Still fighting our way up the two slopes and through the 'gates' of the stronghold was damned hard fought I'll say. We struck at dawn and it was nightfall before the warriors of our alliance butchered our way in the inner sanctum and got the (aging) Priestess of Luthic to throw in the towel. Of course dozens, perhaps a hundred or two, of them had already taken to fleeing at that stage but that was fine really. The objective was to smash them beyond repair and we did that. Whatever you can call them they certainly weren't cowards here, so eliminating them now was the best approach it seems.

Now to say this to any would be conquerors; a sack is never pretty, even a controlled one as the fighting force we've created here tried. Of course with us orcs there is 'traditions' of a sort behind all this between defeated clans and conquering ones; largely to avoid slaughtering all the women and children of our species in the constant clan wars. In many ways it's the big difference between what Sparta is turning into and the other clans in the region. We integrate yes, but break with other cultural norms by breaking down the new recruits into our ways. Some would call it brainwashing, I will call it discipline and regimented training of our new Spartan legionnaires. Anyway the after effect was unpleasant but controlled in its own dreadful way, with our surrendering old crone and other crones collecting a tithe of 'volunteers' to satisfy...

Yeah look people are assholes, even more than I'd realised to discover some of the militia were just as willing to do such as the clan-orcs. So regardless of species they are bastards and I have deigned to stay away from the caves so I can rest up here. Simply put you can't just say 'No' to this sort of dreadfulness and what's worse nearly no one other than me seems to have much of an issue about it. I'd be deposed fairly rapidly if I tried to stop this sort of thing basically and 'organising' it is the only other option was letting them run wild. It's especially bad when even the 'good' and 'civilized' people like Missy and Lua, or ye olde murder-hobos even, view this as the 'lenient' option. Because in Faerun MURDER is the go to option for most defeated enemies even of your own species. Then again who am I criticise as I'm the dude who had the rather macabre display of enemy heads on wooden spikes erected and plan on burning down this place when we leave. War makes monsters of us all it seems.

Anyway thanks to keeping thins organised we've got a full defensive shift established, the loot is being assembled to be sorted and even the murder-hobos survived and have got their quest-reward. Their still here with the two Harpells, but that's due to the Elves lurking near our encampment and probably wanting to restock. It seems not only am a quest-giver on their game route but also an NPC shopkeeper. Yaaaaay I guess. I've put them with the auxlia, the human ones obviously, and they've settled in for the night. Guards have been set just in case of them turning on us, or elf attack, or Harpell madness. You never know what'll try to get you in this place. The plan to get them back intact (or more-so the two idiots from our wizardly trade partners honestly) is to have attach to the Moonblades when they head south to meet up with the rest of their clan. Best can do.

Now must go, Lua has dragged Tris up here and there being...well Lua's being Lua and Tris looks mortified in the lack of get-up. Rose is pretending to be asleep and Missy seems bemused and I blame Ghorza for this. And Lua too of course. But I'm sure somehow, someway, my currently on duty second wife is responsible for it all. Yeah...so bye-bye now. Busy-busy and no rest for the wicked and all that. Toddles.

--

When: 1354 DR Summer

Where: The Crags, nearing home at long last

Left the stronghold behind and started marching, lots to do so little chance to update since Victory Night there. We had a few hard days of said marching after that, but we're nearly home at long last even with our new 'additions' slowing us down some. That and constant checking for if we were being followed on the way or if any other enemies were nearby. So far so good and we haven't – No Elves, No Harpells, No Murder-hobos and No Gnolls. Actually speaking of Gnolls - Bribery makes new friends!

Or more-so threats, showing them we can burn out the local strong orc clan and then some bribery makes you friendly (of sorts) with them. Not that they wouldn't betray us and murder us if they could get away with it of course but they're on outside for killing those elves who were stalking us and the murder-hobos. Redjaw Tribe they call themselves and their reasonably numerous, for Gnolls that is. We had planned on burning out the place but cut a deal with Gnolls for the blood-soaked dump. Long story short – scouts met, talks happened in the wake of us taking the place and then we traded them the place and some shinies in exchange for not attacking our groups on the territory. Oh and hunting down and killing those elves. That was the real deal. Or at least half of it anyway – because we aren't going to stay and hold the place, and neither are the Moonblades and if we put them there...

Well it'll keep any returning Icepeaks busy, and delay any orc warbands coming back direction such as the other backstabbing deal-breaking fucks serving the Furry Fucker. Course the Gnolls know this I assume so more luck to them in dealing with our enemies. The more they kill the less we have too. They might turn on us of course, but that'd likely meaning giving up the crappy stronghold to side with Wyrmog's crew and serving him in the short term. Not happening basically. Other than that it's them on their own being Gnollish Gnolls, but on their own we can take them and they know it. Worse case they do nothing to slow down our foes. Maybe. I hope. Still best to flip the coin on this we figured. Or I was overruled. Whatever.

--

When: 1354 Dale Reckoning

Where: South of the Valley of Sparta

Nearly home, just a day's march and Krowluc's returned with word that the place is still intact, though they have faced a few small raiding attempts since word reached them from our post-battle messengers. So words gotten out to the other clans like the Red Axes like I'd expected. Still with the return of our tired army at least we're back at full strength once again for future threats. For now we intend to march to Zybelin's Drift and rest there for several weeks while we reequip and resupply once again.

Our captured Icepeak females, children, and of course the slaves taken are to be send on to Sparta under guard and integrated into the clan alongside Old Breyjuk. Really we seem to be playing tag-your-it with our Chiefs as Zah is going to meet us here at the village along with my lovely Oggy and after a week or so the Old Chief will return back to Sparta itself. Then we'll follow on when we've sorted out what I want done in terms of production and logistics for our coming war with the enemy. Other news of course that's very relevant – Darth Phargk lives!

Yes seems the old bastard survived the whole battle and managed to escape despite losing a large amount of his clan in the process. Now whether he' fighting on is still to be guessed at, his clan-orc messenger offered little beyond saying that and that they were moving back to their underground burrow. Basically 'Hi Minion I'm not Dead! Are you Alive? Talk later!" in broad outline. Still that's good as it's another ally for confronting the Furry Fucker, or at worst we now know Wyrmog's lot got decently bled in the process by more than just our group of betrayed.

Also Doctor Ned and Nimmil are making 'progress' evidently so that's good. Even better the place is undamaged and nobody has died or betrayed anyone. Though it seems many of my clan-orcs would kill anyone who harms the 'awesome orc' who makes boobs and cocks bigger. Because evidently he's going polymorphed orc all the time now – not that I can say anything about that Tris told me. And she's right of course. Dangit and I like complaining, it's a nice hobby I find.

Sadly must get back to marching. Slan go foil.

--

[Wifne 05]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

It seemed the whole village had issued forth to the walls to see the return of the army of their overlords, and through this the fearful watching for their loved ones with anxious faces. Of course she herself was part of those fearful souls even if she hid her own worries and encouraged all those around her as a village leader should. Many had tearfully considered their loved ones marching away to war under the orcs a death sentence in truth and even now she could see those lost, almost hopeless, faces amongst the crowd. She could only pray to the Great Mother that they were wrong; that her Little Flower and all those who marched away months ago would return to them safe and sound. Young Egar amongst the riders had sworn to her that her Rose was safe and that most of the village men had returned to them, but still fear and worry beset her heart for her innocent young granddaughter. See was believing when the safety of one's loved ones was most pressing in the mind she found, even for a elderly cleric as herself.

So she stood out in the fields just before the village listening to noise of the approaching army with young Halnguk. The orc had ruled this village since Lady Ghorza had departed with the army, though in truth as with much more powerful Ghorza the vast majority of how the village was run and her villagers lived their lives was left to herself and the other elders. There had been no feared breakdown into murder and violence as one orc replaced another; the village was changing, in disturbing ways at times, due to them but the worst have nightmares had not occurred. Especially since the village had become one of women, the old and young mostly since the departure of many of the men-folk for their overlords war. Thankfully the cold iron rule of the Spartan orcs had continued upon themselves as upon her villagers; they trained, they drank, they lorded over at times but there was no rapine or murder. Then again there were more female orcs, and now some few of their own children, than male warriors so they had likely little need to drag innocent young maidens or older married women to their caves for such things. Rider's approaching brought her attention to the world before her as they trotted forward at a steady pace the banner of their overlords at the fore of the formation.

Relief surged through her as they came more clearly into view and she saw her Little Flower, at the back of the Orc Shaman, arms around him for support as the horse came forward. She smiled faintly at the upsurge of joy within her as her Rose waved one hand as they neared and then she returned it languidly as an orcish voice echoed out to them as the horses slowed to a walk "Hail the Village! We have returned! All's well I hope?"

"We welcome you to the village Shaman Karguk and offer praise at your return in glory from battle. I can say to you Boss, and to Boss Ghorza when she comes, that this place has done as you commanded as have I at your command" the young armoured orc answered with a fist to heart salute. Wifne watched as the band of riders came closer before finally coming to a complete halt and began to dismount, the Shaman allowing her granddaughters armour clad to slide down with his aid before he followed suit a moment later.

"Good to hear Halnguk, got our work cut out for us in the coming season...seasons most likely I'd expect" the Shaman replied with a sigh as he handed his horse to one of the other orc riders. He stretched a moment then patted Rose on her head affectionately "aren't you going to greet your granny? After all that talk and..."

Wifne didn't care what the orc was going to say, nor did her little flower as with a hug that almost knocked the breath from her Rose's, shockingly strong, young body slammed into with a soft "Grandma I'm home! Did you miss me?"

Taking a moment to keep her balance, and catch her breath silently, Wifne hugged her back fiercely "Every day you've been absent my little flower I have felt your absence"

And it had ever since her little flower had to accept the mantle of the cleric of the village, just as her poor departed mother, and true-born daughter to Wifne, had all those years ago. True it had not been in the manner she or anyone could have expected but to protect the village and harvest then sometimes sacrifices had to be made...even when they broke your heart. Still for this moment her world was whole once again and there was only the warmth and joy of family and the urge to cry, in joy or sadness she didn't know. For this moment, a brief moment, the orc shaman shouting out orders, the noise of the horses and riders, and growing sounds of the nearing army were gone from her world in that hug. Still though every moment must end as they broke the endless embrace and she turned to the smiling but tired looking Orc Priest as he turned back towards her and her granddaughter. To her side the young Halnguk was leading those who had taken the horses bridles in hand to lead them to hitching posts inside the village.

"Sorry to disturb the happy reunion you two, but we've work to be done as yet isn't that right Rose?"

Her granddaughter having broken the embrace nodded "Yes Master Karguk getting everyone under shelter and to arrange a feasting?"

The towering orc nodded "Yes indeed Rose, work done we can all get to rest and relaxation after all that marching. But first we must look to the warriors or we'll have very grumpy folks to come back to otherwise I find"

Wifne too nodded at this "Of course Milord, Captain Halnguk has prepared the barracks for warriors and your property for yourself and your household. I have organised the food stores to be prepared to feed the warriors as commanded. Milord Karguk, may I ask what are your intentions for the resting of the other warriors in the village so we may accommodate them?"

"Well as you should hopefully know Zah, I mean Chief Zahgorim will be arriving in a few days with his family and my wife Oggy so we'll be delaying a true feast till he, they, and his warriors arrive. For the moment those from your village will return to their families the moment they arrive and they can have...well...personal time to celebrate let's say. The plan with the rest of the army is to settle them just outside the fields and to rotate them into the village in shifts to prevent any troubles that usually arise. I plan to stay here at least a few weeks and continue improvements on the village's defences but in truth we'll start sending the other contingents home shortly after Zah arrives. In part because of feeding all those mouths, and further more because much like your boys their eager to get home and they'll get antsy if we linger here all summer. Or seem like we are at least. But yeah...long story short we'll camp most of them outside the village limits and work on it from there"

Wifne held back a sigh of relief, there was alot of warriors, non-human warriors from orcs to kobold and goblins in that host and there simply was no room within her home to have so many within it at the one time. Even feeding them for an extended period of time would be difficult for the village, regardless if they were saints in their behaviour "Thank you Milord Karguk...were there...were many of my flock slain?"

Rose looked sad, glancing at the ground, while the orc sighed "Not many, but some I'm afraid to say Priestess Humbletree. In truth our losses would be called minimal by any other warband but that doesn't mean, unfortunately, we did not take any. I have the list here in pocket and we'll warn the families before the infantry arrives, or one of the human riders opens their mouths to someone they may know. We will hold a ceremony for them if you wish it?"

"It's...not many Grandma like Master Karguk says...it's not as bad as you feared when we set out" Rose said to her softly glancing back up and giving a sad smile. Not many, even one, was still too many to them but such was the fate of living in the wilds. Everyone had felt loss in the village at one point or another, Wifne knew the feeling all too well, but they could but go on. Their sacrifice was for the village after all, just like their ancestors had sacrificed at one point or another in the past; all the way back to when the young Zybelin had supposedly been trapped by the drift. She bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement to the Orc and her brave little flower.

"Of course Milord thank you for your generous offer..." the Orcish rulers present at such would be both a blessing and a curse at the same time "...and I thank thee for bringing those of my village, and my brave little flower, home safe"

"I wish I could accept such thanks, but war, even worse war, lurks in the not far future and I shall have to take them once again in the seasons to come if we are all to survive"

Wifne smiled sadly "But that is tomorrow and this is today Milord"

He snorted tiredly "Yeah...maybe your right there I suppose...anyway the other thing we'll likely need to prepare for is the level of orders I'm going to your various craftsmen, and craftswomen, in the coming days and for the sudden influx of looted coin and such your warriors may bring and what has occurred in terms of trade here between here and the other settlements here in valley"

In truth Wifne could admit, in her mind only perhaps, she had shocked to see the arrival of kobolds or goblin 'traders' under orc escort to her village from their own dens nearby. Or from the new village of Zahgorim's Conquest mere day's journey away, and the few brave souls who had taken wagons from her own village to these other vassals of the Spartan Orcs with guards or patrols. It was still too strange to see and so hard to understand as goods were traded with those who would likely raided them mere seasons before...or from their view perhaps those who would slay them on sight. At the least there had not been a repeat of the Egar Incident...that had come to light at least...though there was already one or two courtships begun with the other village of Zahgorim's Conquest. New Blood would do the village wonders and parents were already attempting to find suitable candidates for their children; or more accurately seeking her aide in doing so. Must likely brokered through this orc before her, through one of their Chieftains, or most likely through the cleric wife of Shaman Karguk here. One did not want to risk them seeing this alliance building or plotting against their orcish overlords. An orc who pulled out some folded paper from his pocket and held it out to Wifne.

"...yeah this first though. Bad news first I guess for the families..."

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