In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

15. Entry 15

When: 1354 Dale Reckoning, Summer probably near mid-year by now

Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift

Whelp we've arrived back to the valley it seems and as usual it was a busy day even upon arrival. Joys of being the boss I guess. Had to spend nearly the entire day and night till getting the army under shelter, then fed, and then organising the first 'rotations' of squads into the village and through that access to the tavern and small market of the village. Of course first was getting all the village men home to their families, and handling the effects of those who did not return home. That was depressing, but not quite as bad as I expect honestly; people out here in the wilds expect this most everyday and for those families it was just bitter confirmation of fate at long last.

Still I made sure they received their departed men-folks share of the loot – it's a pittance relative to the totality of what we managed to grab in our failed campaign. But I do want to appear magnanimous I suppose, or at least reassure the other vassals that dying does not mean your family gets screwed over. Or clan as a whole with the kobolds – they really have the same motivations in that regards as humans, or orcs, or even the goblins to some degree. Anyway the 'bravely slain warriors' share of the loot is getting distributed to whatever is culturally appropriate; family, clan or whatever need be. Was minor grumbling initially but quickly drowned out by the fact we're more generous with the rank and file than other clans overall – my lot got more per orc than the Moonblades despite a relative equal split of loot based on numbers.

Anyway when we arrived, ahead of the main force, I met with Rose's Grandmother and Halnguk to see how everything stood within the village and to get everything ready. Krowluc was useful in that matter, what with being a mercenary/caravan-guard/murder-hobo most his life, so with this might party of adventurous logisticians we managed to have the 'camp' area mapped out, and food ready, when the first squads began to arrive.

Not that it has to stand for long, only till after Zah arrives and we feast, but it's starting to become a well learned routine of establishing and taking apart camps after the past year. As much as a benefit it would be to keep the whole army together it's outweighed by the fact of everyone been eager to return home to their family, clan, den, whatever to enjoy the fruits of their labour before the next period of service. Less of a problem for my brother clan-orcs, but then again we're going to be staying in our home throughout the winter with all the women and children...

Yeah so best let them get home to ease the tensions. Reassembling the forces wouldn't take too long anyway, and if raids come in having these groups to bolster the various settlements makes things easier in defence. Assuming they don't rebel of course, but I don't think (hopefully) any of them are suicidal or stupid enough to try that. Especially since there seems (as best I can gather) that creating a primitive trade network between the various vassals is raising prosperity – as well as giving us a more efficient production setup and 'tax base' in so many indirect ways. Still common sense is no guarantee on this dump of a world, but there is the added incentive of rampaging orc horde against us and the fact despite everything I think we proved we're a decent enough fighting force. Fear and respect works alongside trust in an overlord's word. To burn your town down if you rebel as much as reward loyalty, but at times this can be just one big protection racket but I think trust of sorts in word and laws is vital to survive. Or I'm being an idiot. Either or.

For now at least my thoughts, after long talks with Old Breyjuk and Ghorza on the way back, is towards gearing up for the coming war. This campaign brought in loot yes, but it cost valuable lives. Our numbers aren't exactly overflowing in terms of warriors even if we number in the thousands now when you include women and children. Truth be told some sort of crude census or Domesday Book may be required to give us a better idea of what strength we can pull together from ourselves and all the vassals. And well kinds of need too as our effective warrior numbers are somewhat low and we lost a tenth of those on the campaign. Now we're supposed to have recruited as many back from young small bands drifting in but again training and time is needed. It's with the whelps; in a short period of time the next oldest 'child' demographic will be old enough and trained enough to easily increase our strength. In time once again; everything is 'later' or 'in a little time' as they say.

Largely why I wanted half our male warriors left behind and asked Zah to drill the youngsters as best as we could, along with training up at least a portion of the females as auxiliaries. If the Moonblades link up their forces with us as planned then I'm reasonably confident we can fight somewhat effectively against the Furry Fucker's thousands strong horde despite the numbers disadvantage. At least I hope we can manage such a thing if, when, the storm comes. Old Breyjuks suspects Wyrmog will leave us be for now, we're really on the threat scale but that's no guarantee.

What we do all agree will be an issue is the upsurge in raids against us by neighbouring clans, even up to full on assaults by individual or allied ones to try take out our 'defeated' forces before others can. Be great if that was the case in many ways – we can defeat them piecemeal much easier than as an unstoppable horde from horizon to horizon. Or maybe someone will do us a solid and smash Wyrmog's band of bastards for us. That'd be just fine and dandy too.

Still can't count on that of course so back to just doing what we were already doing. Strengthen the defences of all the settlements, building roads and watchtowers for rapid response and warn of attack, and of course training up fighters. And trying to build up replacements for my Ballistae and Hwacha that we lost on the campaign – I also want to talk to the blacksmiths about building a primitive canon or mortar based on bell designs. I've seen a bell here so maybe doable. Or even something like a primitive version of the barracks buster mortar. While we were away it seems they worked on my Hussite War-Wagons as requested so there is some progress even witout my input. If I'm lucky Doctor Ned or Nimmil will have found some way to help me create my ultimate fantasy weapon – a magically power fantasy Tank with a magic staff for the main gun! And wards to hold off...and now I'm over-thinking...

Anyway break time is over, need to check if the camp is finished yet along with awesome helpers Rose, Missy and Halnguk. Ghorza is in the camp doing all that stuff with Old Breyjuk while I handled the village, getting food out and dividing up loot – Rose has been my liaison-officer/aide-de-camp/minion since arriving and she is doing great. I'll make sure she gets time with her granny once we've gotten all this out of the way...and the Zah arrives...and then...

Yeah going now; much to do, much to do!

--

When: Summer 1354DR or Year of the Bow

Where: Zybelin's Drift

Why is it the Year of the Bow? Have the Devils taken Dragonspear yet? Am I a bad person? Has Mulmaster lost its fleet? Will we all be grand in a few years when magic dudes descended amongst us mortals? Why is life so hard?

So many questions, so few answers. Oh and my family arrived today with Zah and his family and warriors and all the other attendant stuff of Chiefly glory. I'm very happy at that? Aren't we all very happy? And his wife and slave are pregnant! As are mine. As are mine. As are mine. Derp. Well I suppose actions have consequences and I did marry the priestess of a fertility goddess...

Okay, yeah so I'm family here, very happy. I missed my little Kargy and Oggy and the two sisters. Also Oggy's preggers again, as is Mara. Excuse me while I go panic very quietly in the corner now. Then go drinking and feasting. Yes, yes that'll help. Writing this has helped I find, much calmer now. Slan go foil. Slan go foil.

--

[Zahgorim 13]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

"Heh, heh, heh, course only you would get knocked out in battle and need yer bloody females to save yer stupid ass. Gods you can be such a damned pussy sometimes Karg" he guffawed after the events of joining the horde, and ensuing betrayal by the Warlord, were related to him as drank his ale. Good human village made ale too, not the shitty crap his own clan-orcs tried to tell him was good stuff. That and at the annoyed look on Karg's face as always followed such teasing caused him to have a good hard laugh at his friend's misfortunes. Because it really was Karg's luck to overt-think everything, plan it all out...and then get bonked on the head before carrying that elaborate madness he'd plan and having to have flailing reactions instead.

"Oh fuck you oh high and mighty chieftain of Sparta, lord who sits-on-ass-here while fire giants throw big rocks at this here noggin of mine!"

Zahgorim laughed again at that "Or you'll what?...send yer wives after me?"

"Damned rights he will Zah, so shut up or I'll set Missy on ya..." an exasperated Oggy muttered off from beside Karg, motioning at them with her own flagon "...and I think you'll need that cock ah yours not lightening bolted since it does all yer thinking fer you most of the time. Cuz that musta been fuckin hilarious ta watch! Bloody big ass giant running at you all like he's Fuckin Chief of the Hill...and then BAM! Balls blown off! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE"

'Must not flinch, must not flinch, must not flinch. She can smell the weakness and then bad things!' the most clear, sober and sensible part of his mind reminded him as he mightly held back the urge to cover his important parts at the terrifying thought process raised here. And of course the laughing...Oggy had such creepy fucking laughter even as a whelp he'd found. Thanks the Gods Karg was bonkers , wanted creepy, unnatural and overall dangerous females as mates – thereby taking that arrow of fate that coulda been him. And wasn't that enough to make you shiver despite the warmth. Karg though did shiver faintly, at least he did have common sense left in that mad little brain of his.

"Can we not talk about people's balls being electrocuted?" their wise clan Shaman interjected to thankfully stop the likely creepy and terrifying discuss Oggy would embark upon. It has easy guess how she became a Priestess with her rampant scariness and usual brand of crazy. Old Vretkag had been crazy. Karg was kinda crazy. That old Night-tomb fart that Karg feared was most definitely scary crazy. So it made sense Oggy became a Priestess as well. It was hard at times being the only sane one amongst his friends...now as when mere whelps.

Zahgorims's own mate Breyza snorted in amusement "Fire Giants don't count as people Shaman"

Karg waved his hands, one with now half-empty flagon in it, around before him and replied back in that 'let me tell you!' tone of his "Sure their people! Big hairy, ugly fucker in truth...who tried to kill me, fuckers...but people none the less! And like far too many people in this world I think we can all look forward to having to kill them before they kill us!"

"You think everyone is people Karg, even elves!"

"Yeah they are too...and your screwing one so don't be looking at me that way!...even if they seem to trying to bloody killin me too...grumble...grumble"

"Their ELVES Karg, of course their trying to kill you, all their go fer is fuckin or killin don't ya know? Even the One-Eye agrees with that!" he answered back to his muttering friend then ook a big bite out of the haunch of cook deer meat.

"Yer too favourite things eh Zah?" Oggy asked back punching Karg in the shoulder to stop moaning about the world and everyone trying to kill them. Of course everyone was trying to kill them - It was a sure sign of success after all as it meant you were worth killing to lots of people!

"I like feasting as well Oggy!" he answered honestly waving at the open air before them where all the clan's warriors and vassals drank and ate under the warm summers moon and starlight. Of course it was just them at the head table at the moment as his, Old Breyjuk's and Karg's respective households with females sat just below and around them as they themselves sat on the high platform. Karg's female Ghorza sat there too, but that was much to stop himself and her clashing as anything else. She might be a good fuck but far too dangerous and martial for his tastes in females. Well...that's what friend's were for in this case; taking the crazy and making it into something useful.

"Don't we all my mate, and we must celebrate this raid and its success as we shall soon face a tough battle in seasons to come" his first wife Breyza answered beside him resting elbows on the large table and looking out over the raucous festivities the clan and minions were indulging at his, Old Breyjuk's and Karg's orders. All while the unlucky warriors on guard duty tried maintain some order in the madness. Karg's doing there with his fear they'd somehow knock over the big braziers and burn the place down. Unfounded fears! That'd only happened that one time when they were whelps...and it was totally Karg's fault then! Or mostly! Or most Zahgorim's and...

"Well, can we really count it a great success when it means we face the future doom-stack of that bastard Wyrmog in the seasons to come?" Karg rumbled back curiously then downing the remnant of his flagon before dipping into the ale-barrel to refill it. Old Breyjuk nodded having stayed silent amongst them by and large as he recovered from his injuries in the battles with Karg. Being Old was hard Zahgorim could see, but Breyza's Da was still a dangerously powerful warrior Chief and he had much to learn from the dangerous old orc – after all he too wanted to be a dangerous old orc Chief one day.

"It was well enough Shaman Karguk, well enough. We gathered much loot, shattered many foes and lost few warriors for those battles. Those that turned on us would have turned upon us anyway. It is simply the way of things in this world. We such revel in our glories when we can...it makes the warriors fight all the harder in the future I've found"

"We'll need them too Father, our foes have many more warriors than we. In one or two of their clans alone even without a great host of them" his wife answered back to her sire in words he himself was thinking. Karg agreed too, at least judging from the faintest nod as he drank his ale and reached for some fruit with his free hand.

"Yeah, Breyza's correct in that my Chief, our foe outnumbers us greatly. Though the Goddess has blessed us with many strong whelps, and many fertile females, it shall be several seasons before this is turned into great and powerful warriors for the clan"

"Aye Priestess they do as my whelp says, but I canna see them come against us till after the winters at the earliest...and to be truthfully they are not likely to come against us in full force. Too them we are no great threat, even more-so when the Shaman of the Night-tomb clan yet lives. And our numbers will be bolstered much by our servants and allies in the Moonblades assuming they return. I am old but you Shaman, and young Chief, and proved these New Ways of yours make better warriors of even the weakest of creatures or dumbest of orcs. We must focus on delay our foes, stopping them uniting their strength against us once again and if they do then we must face them where we choose. By ambush if possible or if not then with all thy magics and strange tricks Shaman to defeat those foul powers of the Fire Giant priests"

Karg hummed seemingly in thought a moment Zahgorim noted before nodding and interjecting his priestly opinion once again "All very true, the numbers are badly against us yes but with time and preparation we can make it very bloody for them to come against us here. The more time we get the stronger we get...especially here with the various Auxlia, the female auxiliaries and of course the oldest whelps aging up in a year or just over"

Zahgorim nodded "Aye, time is with us if we can get it, but not right now. Those whelps be great...maybe some our best warriors every other than ourselves when they finally full grown...but right now there just good enough to hold a wall but not take on full grown clan warriors. Even the shit that other clans often call warriors mind you"

"Yeah...we're like over-matched twenty to one, or thirty to one on our own right now and can't see us winning a stand up battle with those odds. Even if we bring it down to 10-1 with all the Auxlia and other reserves thrown in to the battle"

He sighed. Karg was such a fucking moaner at times "And you're forgetting the Moonblades and the Night-tombs, and whatever else we can gather up in our time. Anyway you're thinking too much as always Karg"

His friend gave him a look "Am I now? And how's that?"

"Cuz you've been on constant about how we need to beat all those orcs in battle and such but we don't need to do all that fancy shit. We just need to win. And to win all we have to do is Kill Warlord Wyrmog and the lot of them will all fall apart! Don't need all these fancy plans to beat them in some long series of battles, or in one big-ass one like you and Chief Breyjuk fought. Just go for the enemy's throat and rip it out. Simple as that. See...now where would ye be without me?"

--

[Missari 17]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

The night's air was cool on her skin as she she reclined back on the furs looking up at the shining moon in the clear night sky above. All around them, below the crude but solidly built platform the drunkenness and feasting continued in their loud exuberance. Helped along by the copious amounts of alcholic beverages, or some herbal admixtures, being freely given by the rulers of her owner orc clan. Not that she could criticize of course as she felt quite the urge to giggle at random things, or the occasional blurring of objects after her own enjoyment of the ale and actually good tasting food provided them.

Hence why she had rested her head back a few moments to gaze up at the gleaming moon and stars on the blackness and enjoy the faint cool night breeze the came over her face and shoulders with a contented hum. After all it was somewhat sill for someone in her position to complain of noise and others merriment when she was a slave being made drunk upon decent ale and beer while eating the same foods as all the others present. Of course this was as much a show of power and wealth than a reward but neither she nor the other slaves of Master Karguk, or the twin Chietains Zagorim or Breyjuk, would argue with that.

Or of course the presence of the non-slaves sitting amongst them, such her owner's...friends...the Drow and Half-Elf .Alongside the 'vassal/hostages' as well; in the familiar shape of Rose and her grandmother (who Missasri had though had been her mother at first), plus the not overly friendly Elf Druid siting with Chief Zahgorim's two slave women. Of course she was an Elf and a Druid so that was to be expected as her Father had told her since they were just uncivilized savages who hated humanity for petty, stupid, elf reasons that made them hate Neverwinter's glory.

It seemed whatever discussion that her owners had been having with the other higher up orcs had ended, as the 'Households' as she thought of them sat in rough clusters now rather than at the 'top table' just above them as they had at the start. That and the fact many of them were roaring drunk...which tended to disrupt most meetings on strategy and tactics of course...such as her own orc who sat singing badly in one of thise strange tongues he seemed to know. Most likely by the dark powers of his orcish Gods of course. She sighed softly. That was so unfair she found, none of the Gods were lining up help her or any others she had known till coming here.

"Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile

óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,

Gaeil iad féin is ní Francaigh ná Spáinnigh

's cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidhhhhhhhhhh"

She snorted in amusement at the sudden high note, or attempt there of, as Master Karguk waved his flagon before him. Likely in some crazy belief that he was in tune with the song with his waving then made to restarted again. Thankfully a voice of reason, Mistress Ghorza of all them, grunted loudly and threw one of the crude cushions at Master's head at Mistress Ogrash motioning.

"Oi Karg shaddup with de damned singins and yer makey-uppy ghibberish! Some ah ush are tryin'ta drinsh in peash ere' ya knows!"

"YEAH BOO! BOOS! BOOO I TELLS YOUS! BOOO!" a laughing voice roared from just by where the younger Chieftain just as she saw his orc wife gesticulate at him and say something about dignity and not insulting Shamans and the Gods maybe. It was hard tell over the guffaws of those orcs nearby and the Chietains tittering females, orc or non-orc.

"FUCK YOU TOO ZAH...and fuck ye all as well! I've got a feckin great singin voice! Made moneys and all in the taverns didn't ah Lua? Ye fuckin tells'em!"

The Drow turned away from...hugging?...the drunk and flusted half-elf "Well friend Karg...thy singing is..hmmm...different one can say"

"Ha! Seees Karg! Even yer drowyelf agrees with mes. Nows hushs and talks to slaves and elfies abouts alls crazy drunks stuffs whiles mes and Ograshs talkins sensible female things wiffouts youse noises!" Ghorza muttered back, waving a hand in Karguk's direction before turning back to talk Mistress Ogrash at Master's rolling his eyes and nod of seeming agreement. Rose giggled softly beside Missasri while her grandmother appeared to be showing a mixture of shock, mortification, and confusion at the interactions of their nominal rulers.It really was a bit of a let down to see the ruthless conquerers of your home up close it seemed. That and seeing your supposedly innocent grandaughter mingling contenetly with the slaves and their slaves was likely uncomfortable. Heh. Bloody Red Rose innocent, in many ways she was but Misssasri suspected some of the orcs and villagers here would disagree with that belief in the currently laughing red haired girl.

"And one does note that thee had promised to discuss some on the means and workings of the cosmos with myself friend Karg...or at least to tell tall tales" the Drow woman hummed out sipping at her cup of wine while Rose raised her hand a moment "Oh! Oh! A story is it then?"

"Oh Gods above you get me drunk and wanna talk philosophy eh? Well I know lots stuff, stuff and more stuff and ain't we talked about her spideyness alot already...spider-queen" Master muttered back then began to hum almost to himself "Spider-Queen, Spider-Queen, does whatever her evilness can! Spins a web, any size! She'll murders dudes just like flies! Watch-out! Here comes the Sp..."

"Your actually on an open air platform Master" Missasri interjected before more singing started. This time possibly singing that might call down the wrath of the Gods if left unchecked.

"Yes we are as the rivvil says friend Karg...and please do not sing in such a cheerful tune of the most foul Goddess who oppresses my race" the Drow woman said with a partly bemused, and partly pained, look upon her face. Something that amused Missasri as much as it seemed to amuse the half-elf who gave a small laugh at her friend's?...lover's?...mutterings and mild discomfort.

"You did ask Karg Lua and he did warn you on a few nights not to ask such when he, and us, are drunk"

"I'm not drunk...or not too drunk...hmmm, well maybe a little. What its only been like...fifteen, twenty? Nothing much at all, at all!" Master Karguk replied good naturedly waving a hand in the general direction of the drow and half-elf, then doing that odd charm thing they did when discussing such matters "Just a bit of fun. See magic voodoo thingie so alls silents and stuff. Anywho...mytholoty...mythal...ah-hum...mythology and religion. Hmmm nots the bestest idea at a party, or ever sometimes. But what the hey! Oh...Rose your givin me dat look, story first?"

"Mi-lord Shaman my little flower doesn't mean to bother you ov..." the elder Humbletree started to say before Master waved her off and thrust a full tankard into her hands "Ah no shur she's grand, great little apprentice she is. That right Red? Yeah, course'ya are. Now here drink up there Lady Humnletrees. Relax before the war comes. Eat, drink and be merry and all that as the fella says"

Missasri drank down a gulp of good strong wheat beer as she handed a delighted Kethri some roasted boar meat. In truth to her and her younger, now pregnant, this whole current event appeared to be almost heavenly to them judging from talking to them over the night. It was good to have made peace with them she found, they were, nice if somewhat unhinged at times, farm girls at heart truly. Well at least now that the hierachy of sorts with the 'household' was settled between them. On her other side Rose was cheerfully talking, requesting more like, from Master Karguk for something story or tale to pass the night away while the Drow woman moaned on about wanting to talk on history and gods. After a few minutes Master shushed them.

"Fine, fine, quick story-time first alritey...hmmmm, kay something you haven't heard with elves and giants and evil and prophesy like you want. You know we just fought elves and giants right?...okay, okay fine just a quick go of a long one. Right this crowd of fellas Tuatha De Danann came to an island..."

The Half-Elf looked curious and interrupted a moment "I've heard...aren't they of the Fey Wilds in the legends Karg? I thought only those in..."

"Shush and no more interuptions! Canna an orc tell a story and get past first line! Shesh! Okay fine...these Elves landed on an island and decided they wanted it. But the Firbolg already lived there, so the Battles of Magh Tuired. Wait more dramatic...Over the waves they sailed these powerful warriors of..."

"...and the Firbolg were driven before them, but they had owed allegiance to the Fomorians and paid tribute to them. And when the Fomorians heard of...yes Missy the big ugly giant dudes. Now...yeah they paid tribute..."

"...and then came Balor of the Evil Eye. No he wasn't a Balor demon, It was his name and he this One Big-ass Eye that could blow up mountains and..."

"...yes he was a child of a Fomorian and an elf. And no I'm not even going to think on the mechanics of that. So his grandson Lugh went off..."

"...and that's why when your a big giant one eyed magic monster you should be wary of your sling using grandchildren. Because they'll get you square between the eye and bow up your whole army"

Missasri sighed , focusing on her owner as the world seemed to be shifting underneath her a moment. That just meant it was time for another sip to make that stop "Are you sure that's the meaning of the tale Master?"

"Uhh...probably not, whatever. Unless any ye have an opinion, cuz I need a drink after all that gabbin' about far away places an' times" he finished and she lay back against an equally tired Mara as the Drow, Rose, and the half-elf began to ask questions on the story. Or to be more discuss it amongst themselves as Master drank from his flagon and reached for some of the meat and fruit left on the platter nearby...

--

Now this is a 'slice of life' chapter but they're maybe relevant to stuff further down the line implied here so it's not entirely non-plot driving if some fear that.

I've tried to keep grammar legible but apologies if it is.

The story (drunken, broken and half remembered) comes from

When: Summer 1354 Dale Reckoning

Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift

Feasting is tiring. Whoever would have guessed that?

Well we've had several days of talking, planning, drinking, planning some more and all sorts of things in that clan leadership role. Honestly I'd much rather be getting time to read my books, or start working on enchanting items in our time here, but sadly no option there for the moment. But partying and showering cheap or free booze upon your warriors is a vital part of any orc clan and I won't complain as it's been a nice release from the stress of the past few months. Of course as mentioned that's all walked hand in hand with planning for the future and dealing with the horde of enemy orcs coming against us.

Hopefully not for a while if they continued on eastward when last we saw them – usually you'd raid over the summer and autumn, return late autumn and the hunker down for the winter and celebrate your successes. Also insultingly we're likely not on the highest list of perceived threats to the Furry Fucker and his band of loonies and backstabbers; the still alive Darth Phargk is up there, and likely Uthgarders and the Axe of Mirabar right now. A mistake I hope he doesn't realise till we kill and ensure he don't comeback. From an orcish point of view that's understandable you have to understand. Sparta is a middling clan, or high-level small, that has good warriors maybe but not proper ones and not worth wasting effort on.

Strange I know but its important to remember Orcish leaders constantly overestimate individual heroism and underestimate the advantages of training and discipline. And magic too, though that is very much depending upon the nature of clan leader. After all the Axe of Mirabar puts maybe two to three thousand warriors in the field and yet can rout Orcish hordes ten to twenty thousand string. And that is with our natural physical strenght and stamina advantages of humans and dwarves. Luskan is the same, as are the Ten-Towns in the Far North I guess. Thankfully the whole failed campaign proved to me, mostly, that superior discipline alongside decent equipment and support can do wonders for an orcish fighting force. Wonders I hope our Furry Fucker hasn't guessed at – or at least just classes as 'weak' like many leaders class the small armies of the 'civilized' races up here. Only time will tell there.

Anyway our 'Plan' right now can be boiled down to Ambush and Kill Warlord Wyrmog, or get someone else to do it for us like maybe murder-hobos, then follow up by attacking the hopefully dead orcs supporters.Yeah, yeah, I'll admit that doesn't come off as 'well thought out' but there was alot of discussion on this and I'll admit Zah's likely and I was likely wrong in seeking a long attrition campaign. Not that we didn't talk on fighting a pitched battle – we've sorta picked a few choke-points in the valley to scout properly, and maybe prep, in case a big ass army appears on the horizon some moon-rise.

Thankfully living in the Crags makes concentrating large forces awkward without some time and someone noticing so while a raid can come out of nowhere, giant-ass armies generally don't without really high tier magic. Which would banjacked us totally anyway so I shan't worry about that as they're ain't much can do to stop it. Unlike the current 'reequip and arm up' plan which is gonna kick off now that we've feasted ourselves out and we can get back to work. Like the fact I have the Gods-slaves, blacksmiths, material, clerics and an urgency to get going – first plan first though is quality amour for our Chieftains. Both to keep them happy, and secondly because Old Breyjuk seems to get injured alot. So must go, plate to try get enchanted.

--

When: A Midsummer's Day - a warm one at that

Where: Village of Zahgorim's Conquest

Sorry been a few weeks now, been very busy most everyday with the logistics side of planning out an army with our limited industrial base. And me losing a whole load of time by trying to create cannon. Stupid, stupid, stupid, me because damned if it wasn't time consuming and wasteful of limited resources. Anyway we currently don't have any functioning cannon right now, and we don't have time for us to keep at it when other things are needed. On the other hand I did manage to get a couple of very interesting enchanted bells created on a weird tangent to proto-cannon making that I won't go into because I'd sound like an idiot. Yeah long story short we we're using magic with the aim to reinforcing my wonder-waffen with magic – practicing on the bells with the goal of moving unto the cannon. Suffice to say we didn't get that. Largely due to inexperience, hazy ideas and other things needing attention.

So I kinda accidentally created these magical bells that ward off demons and other horrors. You can blame Christianity for giving me the idea and then blame frustration for turning my cannon making project into magical Bell-making. At least Wifne and Lua thought this was a better idea than what I wanted initially. I'd rather my fireball creating and magically enhanced artillery but what can you do. Back to the drawing board...and Ballistae or Hwachas I guess. We'll comeback to it in a few seasons or years. Any-who. Zah and Old Breyjuk got their armour, and a decent amount of crappy but usable tools got created by the orc trainee apprentices we sent to the village blacksmith to train. So that was some good despite the huge waste of time that occurred. Now that I'm gone I'm sure the blacksmiths can get back to churning out spearheads and such over the next seasons. Rose, who I left behind till the harvest is brought in, promised to keep practicing at blessing weapons and such while I'm gone. Though really it's just to let here have some time away from orc strongholds, armies and general craziness.

Now unto here and now; Zahgorim's Conquest has turned from ruins to a a bunch of roofed semi-ruins with a pretty impressive wood and bricked mud wall surrounding it, and the beginnings of a moat from the river. Yay! Go us. That and theirs finally a road network of sorts between the valley settlements, with actual caravans starting to move along it in decent numbers. I'll admit that's due to me sending all our wagons into that role, and creating orders to work on my pet projects, but it's a decent enough beginning to creating a sustainable support base here in the valley. Important because a raid was intercepted a few days ago coming in from the east. Zah took out a few squads and utterly savaged them poor schmucks that came in in largish sized war-band. Blood Mists thinking they could grab cattle or females, and maybe get revenge but...interviewing...the handful of survivors indicates these aren't from the crowd with Wyrmog but from the Blood Mists home range and came in after word reached them from those in the Horde. Which was heading on to plunder the roads and farms south and east of Mirabar like many a raid before them. This lot just wanted to win glory looks like since they were denied that sitting at home.

Other news is that the Moonblades are on the move, pretty swiftly from what their riders said when they arrived today, and should be at their intended destination before summers end. Which is some old ruins off a little to our southwest in another small valley area of the Crags. Fine by us; close enough for mutual support and trade but far enough away that territories don't overlap and conflict. That usually leads to bad things. Still it effectively doubles the fighting forces available to us should the worst happen and a horde appear in the distance, so, in short; the sooner they settle in the better I say. The other good news is the Gnolls didn't attack our traveling warband sent on that route, and their settling in after a few brief battles with some Icepeaks or other clans seeking to take back the former stronghold. Again more power to then – kill my enemies for me hyena face dudes! In reward for their helpfulness (unintentional really but still...) we're going to send a shipment of weapons we can replace easily, or just don't suit our tactics and going to waste.

It's a decent enough bribe and hopefully it'll help kill a few more enemies for us. Maybe. Still its more progress than we've made of 'Operation Kill Furry Fucker' *not actually the name* as we don't have the forces to risk seeking him out in the midst of the horde. Nor exactly have the contacts to find and hire adventurers to try and do the job for us. And really we'd need to do that on the quiet to avoid drawing attention to Orcs wanting other Orcs dead and doing it in cowardly manner of sending murder-hobos instead of themselves. Human disguise? Maybe but time consuming and Karg of the Crags is likely been sought out by the Luskans. Hmmm...maybe I should style myself Amergin Gluingel the next time around. At least know the backstory. Still that would take a time consuming trip to and back, while also finding a way to prove myself as a legit quest backer. Much for thought and better to work here in the meantime. Haven't even got back to Sparta and my Magical Tome R Team yet!

Slan go foill a chardai.

--

When: Summer 1354 DR

Where: Home Sweet Home and the fire out (well not really)

Just in the door and have to plan. Phargk lives as mentioned and a messenger-scout carrying a message for me and the Chiefs arrived just before our return from the old bastard. Basically making sure we'll fight on his side in the coming months (again) and promising to join us with warriors come the spring. I'd suspect to draw the enemy away from their underground home, but really it suits us in ways as well to have him near to draw out Wyrmog. Risks and Rewards altogether in the one crappy package I guess. Still with Nimmil and Doctor Ned I've got some measure of magical counterweight. Assuming I can pay them enough of course, but they seem happy enough and much to report later to me on the projects set to them.

Next in brief word has come from scouts south of Zybelin's Drift that a band of Red Axes is hovering nearby with totems signalling to parley. I've sent all Krowluc's cavalry (including the new recruits he just got) to reinforce Ghorza in the village, and three more squads to Zahgorim's Conquest just in case as a reserve. Our fear is it's distraction away from another, proper sized, raiding force. Truth be told my instincts are just to kill them and be done with it. But that's just my past life and views of backstabbing traitors needing a good killing coming to the fore. Instead in the standard orc tradition we'll listen and see what they want to talk about. And if they are a distraction...well then they and their raiders ain't leaving this valley alive.

Time will tell. But now must go meet my Chiefs and discuss this.

--

[Nedorious Illan Kline III 02]

Stronghold of Sparta

"And a fine evening to you my dear Crue!" he greeted his dwarven minion cheerfully as he strode out of his bedroom and into the office proper. As usual a low grumble, near a growl, greeted him from his friendly as ever secretary/bodyguard/pack-mule but it was one of friendly happy grumbles/growls. After many years he had learned to understand that aspect of the language seemingly gifted amongst all dwarves – and it had only taken a few angry irrational dwarf fatalities along the way thanks to early misjudgments on his part. Truly learning was both an interesting as well as potential hazardous endeavor!

"Cheerful smile my dear, cheerful smile! Don't want the customers thinking you want to brutally murder some of them!"

"Ah do sometimes Boss...or at least some of them damned orcs. Ah canna believe ye have talked me inna setting up shop surrounded by orcs and all dis madness"

Nedorious shrugged, what could he say but he just that good "Oh Crue that's just my charming and friendly personality at work! And probably best not to let our valued know you wish some of them bodily harm and/or death. Hurts repeat business for one usually. So turn that frown upside-down! Think on the bright side, if any of them do need a good murdering the last thing they'll see is your smiling face!" she gave a happy cheerful smile as always "See that's the spirit Crue! Happy Thoughts! Having happy thought is the key I find!"

Not that he himself needed to force such at moment. Things were going quite excellent compared to his original expectations upon following Karg-who-was-Karguk-the-Orc back to what he had expected to be your standard mercenary orc encampment. Instead he had discovered ruled over villages, trainee orc wizards, the mercenary gnome illusionist Nimmel as a co-worker, and whose of other strange things like the slave-wizard-girl named Missy who serve Karg the evident Shaman. Oh...and of course the most important part; a sunken pre-netherol era city with associated magical tomes to study!

Why it was somewhere he could happily stay for many years (in orcish form making it much easier of course) while studied all these things...and plotted his justice bringing vengeance upon the Host Tower of the Arcane and those Captains of the city that had sided with them. That had to be done as well, though the first part of that plan sadly required hiding out and laying low from said factions. Thankfully his new found Orc Shaman friend (who had managed to disguise himself as a human loremaster) also shared his dislike for such people and was also in need of a instructor and surgeon of the caliber of Nedorious Illian Kline THE THIRD. So all was good in the world he figured whistling a cheerful tone as he moved to his desk to retrieve his staff. A good staff helped make you look respectable and professional even amongst less civilized folks. Or so-called civilized folks as well and appearing professional just naturally helped with being professional too as a helpful bonus. And let him carry around a magical weapon too. That helped alot in the past he found.

"Sure Boss ah'll have happy thoughts as ya say. Now ye are ta meet Karg an'his lot now that yer up and about Boss, he said ta clear all yer appointments and those ah Nimmil too fer da day. Me and Etlin be yer guards fer the day while the two twits stand guard here" she informed him resting back in her chair as nodded in agreement to it. Most excellent indeed. His primary contact in this clan had vanished off for several months to play raider and king of the horde and had only been back a day or two so far. Time in which Nedorious had merely gotten to greet the young orc and his entourage in passing. It seemed from the words of the various orcs of the clan that the Orcish Horde had fallen apart (in record time even!) into the inevitable clash of personalities and clans. Call him shocked at such a turn of events!

Whoever could have expected it...other than anyone with some common sense. Still which side he wanted to win was pretty apparent. And expected to win too in truth. Numbers were against them, but that Nedorious Illian Kline THE THIRD on their side so that easily made up a good number of barbarian orc warriors in the scales of war. That and the very apparent fact this was a surprisingly well developed and disciplined fighting force...for a human city-state let alone an orcish stronghold. Which was excellent in many ways. Assuming they weren't swarmed of course but that was always the risk fighting hordes regardless of race. But the ideal core was here for dealing with the Luskan Guard, and of course adventuring bands serving the Host Tower while serving as excellent meat-shields for himself in the justice bringing. Wouldn't those bastards who'd killed Barty when dozens of trained, albeit young, orc mages turned up and neutralized their own apprentices and any summons they might bring against him.

The debt books had to be paid in the end by his foes. His code of honour demanded no less after all. All it would take was helping nudge some people, namely his current employers, into a mutual beneficial arrangement of killing certain people he needed to be dead and stay dead. Several of them were liches after all and were already technically dead. And crazy because only crazy people became liches, or stupid ones with brains but the common sense the Gods gave gnats. The mere thought of having no feeling and then going slowly insane over the years was saddening to him when there were other methods of live extension available. Why the undead were there to work for you (and sometimes eat your enemies) not to be something to base your fashion sense on!

"And where is the dear boy?"

"He's standing guard outside da door, da other two are getting kitted out fer duty"

He sighed , of course they were"Tut-tut! Tardiness still! Crue, make a note to dock their monthly pay for this. It's taking quite a bit of time to break them of all these bad habits they picked up in the guard"

If anything his secretary's smile grew ever so slightly he thought as she hopped down from her chair, and the days ledger, and took her axe in hand "Aye Boss-man, or Boss-orc now ah guess, be glad to beat a bit more sense into those two twits"

"Now-now Crue, nothing damaging or requiring wasting my time fixing. They've been progressing nicely after all what with learning never to take a bribe anymore without permission, and what the consequences of stealing after. Happy, not badly injured, staff are productive ones remember!" one had to be cruel to be kind sometimes he'd found and the Luskan City Guard taught such bad habits to all its members that now needed correcting. Thankfully young Etlin was a positive influence on the two women in his life, and they were all quick learners like he'd hoped. Bit of time, training and his personal touch and they'd be excellent long term minions for him and his operations.

"ah...Aye Boss, ah'll go tell'em da news. Etlin's just outside and ah'll join ye in a moment" came back to him as he strode forward towards the door with a quick check that all the wards were as they should be. The loud thumping on the wooden door of the room assigned to Etlin and his ladies reached him just as he opened the door before him and his other minion came into view with a fist to heart salute to Nedorious "Evening Doctor Ned"

"And a fine evening to you too my dear boy! Why it's good to be up and about, and even better to catch up with old friends and co-workers like young Karg, Miss Lua'kah'wyss and of course Miss Loraatris! Ah to hear of their adventures and tell them of our discoveries in their absence shall be a most enjoyable diversion from our work days usual hum-drum activities"

After all he heard such interesting rumors from the young students he had been granted by Karguk the Shaman to help train. Most notably that he somehow parleyed with the Harpell family over in Longsaddle and perhaps had established a possible route for future trade. Now that would be very useful for getting rare yet needed supplies, and of course getting word out to possible contacts undetected in the coming seasons. Sadly it had been years since he'd dealt with the Harpells and dealing with them through intermediaries was often the wiser course of action. Truly they were gifted in the arcance arts, thought sadly not in commercial or sensible use of those gifts. Though his own brief visit to the place had been most profitable in the fixing of spell effects gone awry.

It had been a true shame that the level of demand far exceed the level of purchasing power of the clientele so a quick exit before opinions soured had been the best option – there had been much more coin in Waterdeep after all for less effort. Supplies would make things easier, and therefore increase his services value and help build a strong teacher-student relation with young Karguk the Shaman. And then Luskan would burn when the time came. It just took preparation and patience to help create the tools to do so, and provide them the interest in achieving that end as well. Anyway these Tomes and the Ruins were truly fascinating. As was young Karguk and his tribe. This inter-clan war thing was somewhat unfortunate but if the price was right, in coin or favour, then aiding them in the role of mercenary necromancer rather than surgeon extraordinaire was an option he was content enough to take...

--

[Missasri 18]

Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

"Kurnak is trying to play us for fools..." Master Karguk was muttering beside her as she knelt on the furs to his left "...try to stabs us in the back and and thinks we're just gonna say – oh don't worry about betraying us at all! We're all friends again!"

Zahgorim, the younger Orc Warchief snored in amusement "Course he is Karg, you and Breyjuk kicked their asses and that tends to bring about second thoughts not been on our side"

"Yeah...and better an honorable enemy than a false friend I say. I don't trust them in the least and it sets a bad example to let those who do so get away unbloodied"

"Maybe Shaman, maybe, but we do what we must and this is merely the ways of the clans caught between two others in battle. They'll move this way and that, whichever way the wind of victory blows in the battles to come. They are just the first, and their breaking their words to us was just due to seeing the strength of Warlord Wyrmog and failing to see ours and that of the Moonblades" the older Warchief Breyjuk snorted in possible exasperation waving a hand before him to disperse the smoke from the brazier that flared up for a second "what else can you expect? They wish to pretend to serve the Warlord but not risk their strength doing so. If he wins they they have lost little...and we were to win then they will wave our banners and crash into the Warlords Host at a moment of weakness. Though it is not common Shaman to see you as the one most set upon warring upon them"

"Yeah Karg you really got your blood up on the Red Axes"

Master sighed rubbing at his forehead, then sighed again "Oath-breakers and Traitors are things I do not like, and I especially don't like them getting away with their oath-breaking and betrayal. But your both right I know. If the Red Axes are wavering with Wyrmog's lot then if the battle turns against him then they'll desert him at the least and betray...again!...him at least. At the least it'll stop raids into the valley from them...and others assuming they aren't lying to us of that coming warband"

Missasri watched as the elder of the orc warchiefs shrugged upon his seat "If they are,they are and if they aren't...it's one less war party an enemy clan has to bother us with. We shall watch for ambush and a trap as you wish anyway Shaman and Red Axes shall learn nothing of our plans with the other clans, or our strength in the valley beyond what they already knew before. Till the Moonblades arrive in force, or the Night-tombs send warriors with their Shaman there is little more we can do in the coming seasons other than fight for our territory"

"Look on the bright side Karg, sounds as if Kurnak is off to the east with Wyrmog and might get a nice doze of sword-to-guts. Whoever seems to be in charge while he's gone seems to have bit more working parts in that skull of his"

"I suppose so Zah, I suppose so. We're agreeing to listen to them then and agree not to raid each other?" Master asked, to both other orcs voiced their agreement and he nodded "Okay, if it keeps them off our backs for a few months then that's more time to get prepared. The more time the better able we'll be...ahhhhhh...so I guess that's that?"

"Aye Shaman..." the old warchief grumbled back as he stod slowly to stretch "...indeed, we should get to our other duties for the day. Or for me, to rest as advised Shaman"

"A few more days My Chief and you should be fully recovered. Twas the best we could manage..." Master Karguk replied standing as the others and motioning for her to do likewise as he was cut off by the amused grunt of the elder warchief.

"Snrt...I know Shaman, its call been old and takes much killing enemies to get to. Which sadly means wounds, many wounds over time so this Old Orc knows. Fear not I shall rest and be strong again, young Chief Zahgorim will lead the escort for our blindfolded guest safely out of our valley"

Missasri listened idly as the three spoke their partings before following her owner out of the room past the guards and out into the main keep. Thankfully her eyes had long since gotten used to the low level light mixture of gloom and lantern light that filled the innermost parts of the keep as they descended the stairways. In truth it was a relief as that past hour had been rather dull, as well as sore on the knees by staying in position as her owner and the two warchiefs of the orcs argued out what to do with the messenger of the Red Axe orcs who had turned upon them in the battle. She herself had been present...well...because she'd hit, and killed (well...mostly), a Fire Giant in that battle and her owner had hoped maybe that had not spread and to test that knowledge. She could understand that for a negotiation; either the other party would be wary of her, or reveal the fact they did not know of her deeds. To her own surprise she found herself feeling pleased that some measure of words had apparently reached these orcs from those who had fought in that bloody battle and knew something of her actions. Or at least that Master Karguk kept her at his side. He was less pleased, muttering so as they progressed downwards towards the more interesting part of the day in her view. She smiled in faint amusement at that; a slave such as she was feared amongst enemy orcs was just too strange not to cause her to do otherwise. As they neared their destination Master Karguk glanced at her.

"And what was your opinion of that whole mess?"

"I think it's best to trust the one fighting by your side than to be ever watching for the dagger in the back..." she started to say careful and he hummed in amusement at her pausing.

"But..."

She looked down at the steps beneath her and shrug demurely as they walked "...but there are many enemies Master and best to divide them amongst themselves as thy Chieftains say"

He grabbed her shoulder in support to with her as he groaned ever so faintly as she almost stumbled, thanking him as he replied "Careful there, don't fall because the interesting part of the day is coming up. Anyway seems I'm in the wrong looks like, and yeah divide and conquer and all that I guess. Eager to start studying are we?"

"Indeed I am Master, it is...good to get to study such things. Thank you for allowing me to d so Sir" and she was in truth. The chance to learn under a Master of the Arcane and get to study items from the ancient past was a joyous thing, especially in comparison to the reality of 'adventuring' life that she had gotten. So far, since returning to the stronghold, a greater degree of privelleges had been granted to her in this place, so things were improving at least. So she was in good form as she followed him past more guards into (thankfully recently well lit) large room on the lower level that had been converted into the 'research' room. Master had set it aside for such he'd said because it was near the 'dig site' below...and was underneath the Keep with multiple choke-points above and the fact the walls resisted all magics that she could muster against them If something was to occur he'd said that the stairways leading up would be sealed immediately. Things like 'cosmic horrors' or 'eldritch abominations' as he called them evidently. Master was paranoid sometimes she found as magic while dangerous didn't do such things with alot of power or intention to such madness from the powerful or cursed. And while the approaching figures of the Necromancer Ned, and the Gnome Nimmil, counted as powerful they definitely we're crazy enough to mess such force as best Missasri could tell. Then again the Necromancer was currently in orcish form, while dressed in that gaudy mixture of pinks, greens and blues so she could be a little wrong on that...

"Ah Milord Karguk! Welcome! Welcome! We were wondering when you'd get to arrive and see this little project of yours!" the cheerful voice of 'Doctor' Ned greeted them as the two dozen or so orcish apprentices around the room bowed or saluted in Master's direction as she and he entered the room. The gnome Nimmil merely hopped down from the stool she was standing on, then gave a rough greeting as she moved towards them.

"Sorry about that Doctor Ned, Nimmil...Etlin good to see you there...duty calls as they say since I got back so sadly this was the quickest I could come"

"Of course, of course! How well don't I know the feeling my dear boy! Work always getting in the way of scholarly pursuits eh? But we have much to report, though sadly it's little in terms of direct means of power or useful tools I'm afraid"

Master hummed in thought, glancing at the various items laid out upon a large stone table, and then at others upon two smaller ones a distance away "I thought there was some progress on the Tomes?"

"Ah well, there is Boss..." the gnome replied waving them over to one of the tables where one of the Tomes lay waiting along with a few items surrounding it; two rings, some scrolls with inkwell & quills near at hand, and those glasses found before the battle with Baron Crazy-pants "...as in we've got one of them identified and know how it works. Safe and everything, with no curses...but sorta useless as well. We'd guess it was a student mages aide, or maybe something used by a spymaster...or well someone who like books maybe"

"What'ya mean?"

Doctor Ned took the pair of glasses in hand and offered them to Master Karguk "Ah...well this will help you understand. Perfectly safe as everyone here can assure you! See these are a linked set of items, what we're calling the Tome of Perfect Recall for the moment. Though I wanted to call it the Magic Copycat Book..."

"Master Nedorious focus..." the gnome grumbled and the Necromancer waved a 'yes-yes' back Missasri stood beside her owner an glanced down at the opened tome. To her surprise the whole thing had change – gone was the ancient script and instead was the Common Tongue. Pages about...a rather ribald story judging by the pages open...

"Ah yes my lovely Nimmil, indeed names aside it's a fascinating find. Allows the one wearing the glasses to recall any written document one has ever read, even if one has forgotten it. Wonderful...till one realises it does not allow the recall of magical writings such as spell-books or scrolls. So sadly while we have discovered something I'm afraid it isn't much of a find as the Tome cannot be magically duplicated, nor the words copied from it other than through any other manual means of copying as you see. In strictest terms the book...is not a book. Rather it is artifact than allows visualization of seen writing. Which can be achieved by other means, albeit with much greater difficulty these days I'll admit, so sadly...all one has to do is think..."

Missasri watched as the writing changed as her owner placed the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, turning the opened Tome back to the first page...and she saw the opening page to Volo's Guide to the North upon it now instead of ancient script, or the story that had been there a moment ago. As Master Karguk started flicking through pages she saw it continued with those she was currently reading. Master paused, closing the book once again hands resting on either side of it as he glanced at the two wizards to the other side of Missasri.

"Anything the user has read you say?"

"Indeed my dear boy, as you can see it recalls whatever written words you have gazed upon even if you do not recall it yourself beyond a few paragraphs. At least most of us could not rewrite Volo's guide as you did just now without other magical means. Sadly the Tome itself resist magic, or perhaps the words are not truly there as even simply spells do not effect the contents"

Her owner focused back on the book, muttering something under his breath that she couldn't understand as he reopened the tome. To her surprise words that she could understand were present upon the pages, images and diagrams of some sort appearing alongside them as he flicked through the pages in silence. Before closing the Tome once again, to reopen it and once again have strange script appear alongside dreadfully drawn images of people above the writing. Orcish artists had a poor standard of course so that was to be expected, but it still made her wonder where her owner had learned (or made up) this weird language of his. To her surprise he started to smile.

"Hehehe...hehehehehehe...hehehehehehe...Muwhahahahaha..."

--

Notes

- Got word on my laptop; its banjacked and going try get data recovery on it to get data off it. Which includes alot of my background stuff for this (I've a decent amount saved thankfully) so using the PC and my spell-check is crap on that so apologies for the drop in quality

[Lua'kah'wyss 06]

Shaman's Tower, Sparta

She hummed contently to herself, the fur bedding was comfortable beneath her, the room itself was pleasantly warm on her bare skin and of course the night had been both enjoyable and entertaining. That and the fact friend Tris disrobing was always an enjoyable sight, let alone the nervous or embarrassed glances she'd give to the rooms other occupants every few moments as she shed them. Lua'kah'wyss smiled up at her friend with an innocent expression...or she hoped it appeared as such.

"Do you wish some aide thy endeavor friend Tris? Mine hands will glad to offer thy help in that matter?"

Her little tu'rilthiir nearly jumped at the question, blushing before dropping the last of the garments and diving under the furs beside Lua'kah'wyss almost in one motion. Lua'kah'wyss couldn't help but laugh softly at the sudden burst of speed, and the eyes of friend Karg and some his orcish version of a qu'ellar glance over at them in the exact opposite of what friend Tris likely intended. Sober Tris was almost as fun to play with as drunk friend Tris she'd found, though that could also be the fact she herself unlike her friend had drank a goodly amount today. She stroked friend Tris's hair soothingly, since now her head was the only thing poking out from under the large area of furs almost as if she could hide there from the world. A soft low hiss greeted her from that crimson coloured face.

"How can you be so calm...we're in...how'd you convince me to...oh Gods this is mortifying"

Lua'kah'wyss reached over and gave a her little tu'rilthiir a kiss on the forehead "Shush my love, all is well and you arth amongst friends. You hath stayed here before does thou remember...and were much less fearful and hiding away thine fairness"

In response friend Tris seemed to vanish beneath the furs beyond a few strands of hair and a tiny voice "I...but I was drunk then"

Lua'kah'wyss hummed happily to herself again at that, and just stretched out upon her newfound domain. Or in truth friend Karg's that she had been granted a portion of, but still she could call it hers in her mind. Hardly where she had seen herself being in life, but it wasn't near as bad as she'd have expected al those months ago, quite comfortable in fact compared to the rivvil che'el treatment. It was good to be friends with the ruler, or one of the rulers, it seem when seeking better treatment regardless of species. Such friend Karg seemed to be, standing as her and Tris'sIlharn, or perhaps in the fullness of the truth; her Jabbuk considering all things. Still for an orc friend Karg definitely had good taste as she enjoyed the view of his rivvil jalil as the went about their tasks under the orders of the Orc jalil Ogrash who was Jabbress of this attempted qu'ellar.

In its weird way that made things make somewhat more...sense...to Lua'kahwyss than all this surface dweller nonsense of jaluk bossing around jalil. It had made her shake her head in amazed shock the first time she had seen it upon ascending to these surface lands. Still she could understand Tris's nervousness, they were at the heart of it now part of an orc's harem as she'd put it when they'd brought their respective belongings and stored them here in friend Karg's (rather extensive) living quarters atop the Shaman's Tower. In his bed too, even if this large mass of furs and mattress could hold a dozen easily, but there were reasons of course to do so. Friend Karg was...beyond strange for an orc and truly needed to be guided and aided in whatever mission his own deity had entrusted him; the Dark Maiden had sent her dreams, a blessing she hoped for her seeking an alliance of sorts with friend Karg and his orc tribe. More civilized orcs were a good thing weren't they?

That and their was something...wrong...with Tris beneath all the smiles and cheerfulness, even if Lua'kah'wyss could not be sure of what it was that bothered her friend. At first she had assumed it was being in the presence of these orcs, their slaves and the fact of friend Karg's disguising his true nature from them. But if anything being in friend Karg's presence seemed to relax Tris, embarrass and confuse her yes but when with Karg, as with Lua'kah'wyss, Tris's smiles seemed more...genuine she would say. In this manner Lua'kah'wyss could be close to both, guiding both in their separate ways with luck. And bed them too of course, but a jalil needed her own joys too. And friend Karg had these rivvil beauties as well and Lua'kah'wyss was sure he wouldn't mind sharing. Why Lua'kah'wyss was part of their pretend qu'ellar was she not? Practically family!

"Oi Karg stop reading that damned thing of yours! You can't read it in after we sleep and I don't want you hovering over there mutterin' to yourself with that light of yours annoyin me!" the orcish jalil Ogrash snapped at friend Karg who...was in fact still hunched over his 'reading desk' as he called it muttering happily to himself as he turned pages on the magic book Doctor Ned and the gnome had identified for him. Just like he'd done since he'd arrived back in fact, just eating food proffered by one of the slave-girls without looking away from the pages. For a little while she herself had worried if perhaps the Tome had been cursed...but the slave Missy, and the orc Ogrash sneeringly, had informed them this was just how Karg 'got' sometimes. Now though he looked up with bleary almost sunken orcish eyes.

"Huh? Oggy? What you say?"

"BED. NOW. NO. MORE. READING"

"But Oggyyyyyy"

"NO. MORE. READING. KARG. BED" Lua'kah'wyss propped herself on her elbows and watched in bemusement as the big orc was shooed away from the magical tone by the orc jalil, with the rivvil jalil Missy hovering nearby behind him unsure of what to do. Evidently the script that friend Karg was reading was some strange one none of them had heard of. But of course that wasn't an enormous surprise to herself; that friend Karg was an odd orc was a given, and he had managed to pass as a rivvil lore-master amongst the rivvil so had been blessed in some manner.

By his deity of course she assumed – strangely friend Karg was not what she would have expected for a possible servant or Chosen of an Orcish God of War but the ways of the Gods were mysterious in their workings. Those scribbles were mostly likely the words of his God been directly transmitted to him. She pouted faintly at that. When he had allowed her a (very brief) use of the glasses & tome her own Dark Maiden had not been so generous. That seemed unfair to her somehow as she watched friend Karg mutter something about 'needing study time' and somethings called 'Damascus' or similar sounding.

A pretty face popped out from under the furs "Has Karg stopped reading? Aren't you going to cover yourself up...they might be looking..."

Lua'kah'wyss smirked down at her little tu'rilthiir "Nothing you nor he haven't seen before my Lovely Loraatris, and we are in his bed so to speak. Again one might remind thee"

"I was drunk"

"Well we're not now..." she answered the squeak that vanished back under the furs. Even if Lua'kh'wyss herself was a little...somewhat more than a little perhaps...on the not-so-sober side of the argument right now "...and do not fear Tris. Friend Karg will not bother thee if thy wish not as you know from the last time. Relax and enjoy the warm bed and mine own company with thee in it"

Living with friend Karg after all brought quite a number of privileges, such as his small library and access to all those wonderful reagents and spell components he kept in his private collection. As his...Concubine? Lover? Friend? Show-Drow?...she of course now had access to all these things as well as see the inner workings of his clan and priesthood. Gods, especially evil ones, rarely gave out their powers rashly to their worships and Karg was clearly the Strategy aspect of his deity's portfolio and that needed watching. Friend Karg could be a help to her people if his tribe of orcs won out in this region over the savage member of his own race and those of the Uthgarht rivvil. Someone to trade with, or even build in possible alliance against the foul Spider-Goddess's minions – after all friend Karg knew far more than he should about such things and held a dim view of her own Goddess's mother and sworn enemy.

'Of course friend Karg seems to hold a dim view of the Fey wild as well and calls its residents by such strange names, yer knows of the Crown Wars by their proper ones. Strange indeed. Tris always spoke of some of the stories he hath told, but with the villains as the heroes in some compared to what she, or I had heard. Perhaps ancient orcish history? Why there was so much to learn!' she mused to herself as she enjoyed the sight. Friend Karg had good taste in jalil she could see. Now at least it was time for more important matters than old and dusty tomes...

--

[Krowluc 10]

Lower Slope, Stronghold of Sparta

It was a blisteringly hot late summers evening, after a blisteringly hot summer's day, Krowluc found as he wiped the sweat from his body with a dampened cloth. The past two weeks had been exhausting, rewarding too to tell the truth of course, and he and others were just glad to be back in the stronghold for a few days rest and relaxation. In fact several of his riders, those on last watch before returning, had simply tethered their horses and collapsed into their bunks to get some sleep. Not that he could fault them for that, but he had things to do and after that a few flagons would certainly hit the spot. Especially with this blasted heat that had come them from yesterday, but thankfully it'd just been a nice steady caravan escort pace so he shouldn't complain too much he thought to himself glad of the feel of cool damp cloth on his face for a moment. Decent plate armour was great on the battlefield but damned if weren't uncomfortable when the heat came around.

"Boss, Farmer Scaly headin' our way" Kyras's voice come from his left along with the sound of the creak of wood as she rested her arms on the wooden railing. Krowluc sighed and gave her an annoyed glance as he rested the cloth on his shoulder and moved to put on his boots.

"Don't let me hear any of'ye lot call him that in his earshot Kyra's, or tell Nimmil that name. Because I'll be very unhappy if it stops us gettin' into the better tavern in this place"

"Yeah we know Boss, won't catch a word in front of'em don't worry! Mercs Honour!" she answered back giving a tired nod before resting her chin on her arms, bracing lazily against the wooden railing "looking good Boss I ever tell you that? The shirtless look...err...suits"

He sighed as he leaned down to thump on his boots "What do you want Kyras? Or what have you done yu don't want me to get mad about...we're barely back an hour so it can't be that bad. I hope"

"Haven't done or takin nuffin Boss! Swears! Just wonderin' can switch guard duty with Dargunk. He saids he's fine ta do it now and I'll do his"

"Fine, why do..." he stomped the other boot on "...no actually I don't care. Switch away and don't cause any trouble if it's that village caravaner I'm guessin is why. Right Kyras?"

She pushed herself up and back from the railing, giving a grin and fist-to-heart salute as she did so "Ah thanks Boss! No troubles swears! See'ye in the morn Boss!"

"I'm surrounded by fuckin children at times Gods save us" he muttered faintly to himself as he gave a quick stretch and hopped over the railing to stride towards the red-orange lit brightness 'courtyard' of the stables area. Around him he rest of his riders were either stowing gear, cleaning themselves as he had been doing, or snoring away in their bunks as the slaves he bought as stable-hands watered and fed the mounts. The greatly increased number of mounts thanks to the sudden, and unexpected to himself, trading his employers had managed to pull off with the village of Longsaddle. As it stood they had need of another stable-hand or two, but the only slaves taken during the campaign had been some Uthgarder women; slaves with none of the needed skills at best, and costly for no profit at worst. He'd have to sort something, as the company's loses had been one-in-five of his riders on the campaign. Okay six out of thirty-one was damn good odds for the level of fighting they'd come through but training up riders took time gods-dammit and the other clan orcs loses were barely on-in-ten. With all the work available here he badly wanted...needed...to get the company up to strenght with all the little things like getting spare horseshoes, extra stable-slaves and improving animal health before he could get the next batch of potential riders trained up proper. Stepping out into the roasting hot sun he brought his hand up to shield his eyes to see better.

'Eyup and there's Farmer Scaly as she said' he thought to himself giving a small wave to the kobold sorcerer Menkin the Tavern owner as he neared. Really he did look like a scaly version of rural peasat farmer at times as he sat perched on the small cart pulled along by his slave the barmaid; wide brimmed floppy hat with feather on his head and smoking pipe in mouth. Little scaly bastard was most likely loving the sudden onset of summer heat Krowluc figured as a scaly paw came up in greeting as they neared.

"Menkin, here to trade I assume?"

"Yes-yes much tradings to does. You have gots things Menkin listings? Menkin has readyings potions and magic-things as askings by Krowlucs. Much to does in taverns Menkins fearings so much be quicks" the diminutive figure replied sliding off the cart as it came to a stop and his slave, after a quick glance back to confirm they were stopped for the moment, gave a quick stretch as the kobold motioned Krowluc to come nearer. Krowluc turned his head and searched for the nearest of his riders.

"Oi Egar, get the bags of herbs and metals on my saddle and bring them over ere' will ya! And don't take fer ever doin it! And get me a light tunic as well!" he shouted out, sending the Second Coming of Bareyaras moving off to where the goods had been stored as Krowluc looked back down at the kobold sorcerer. Or tavern owner. Or apothecary. Little scaly bastard seemed to wear alot of hats other than the silly looking one he wore now.

"He'll be back in a minute with our side of the deal, sorry we're just back"

"Yes-yes Menkins knows this, has beens with human-things you guard here and collectings goods that needs..." the kobold waved him off in a friendly tone. Which was good since his was the preferred tavern for Krowluc and most of the company despite Nimmil and the Kobold hating each other with an unholy passion. Really this whole trade was a polite fiction between the two; neither would deal with the other but often needed each others services to profit so they both sent it throught Krowluc and the others. Not that Krowluc would complain about all – he made a small fee acting as broker between them. Nimmil maybe a battle-brother (well sister) but there were rules about this sort of thing when you joined up. Ones that usually benefited Nimmil in human settlements he'd found but he himself didn't really care as long as everyone held their contract and kept their word

"...so came heres wantings collectings components and herbs whiles big orc-things brings ale-keg-things to Menkins den. Vaeriar heres nots strongs enoughts hauls thems alls evens with Menkins magics!" the kobold huffed motioning at the human woman with his staff as she bowed deeply to him eyes on the ground.

"Vaerier is sorry Master Menkin" which always sort of amusing Krowluc found since the enslaved barmaid towered over the kobold and yet obeyed without question. That and she wasn't half bad looking having stripped down to a loin cloth and large cloth hat, either on orders, or more likely due to the oppressive heat and having to haul the full cart in it. Ruining her work clothes likely meant less coin coming in he guessed. He liked people who were practical like that. Of course that ease of rule most likely due to the little scaly sorcerer having magic and most likely having enchanted the collar on the human woman to some minor cantrips. Also Menkin purchasing the woman's daughter probably helped as well.Still and he was pretty sure that wasn't her real name, or the one he called the whelp, just some kobold name or word that she'd been renamed by her current owner.

'Smart little kobold bastard, why didn't I think of it when I'd the chance' Krowluc thought to himself as Menkin waved his clawed hand at the woman in 'whatever, just do this' and order her to unpack the needed crate as Egar came back into view with the needed bags. The little, though admittedly powerful enough and relative useful, kobold had managed to suss out the woman and her surviving child was either a former tavern owner, or perhaps just a cook/barmaid, and had snatched her and the sprog up for next to nothing considering. Soon after Menkin's (Magical) Tavern had sprung up and become quite the little coin spinner in the orc stronghold. Of course Krowluc didn't have easy access to Charm Spells or whatever the kobold occasionally cast on his two slaves so there was that he figured. Nor could he (or Nimmil) produce the same level of quality as Menkin with his potions or oils. Yes you could get healing potions, and general healing, from the Shaman's lot but as the battle had proved you could never have enough potions for aid, or oils for hurting the enemy.

Taking the bags from Egar he handed them to Vaerier, who promptly held them open for her owner's inspection "Here ya go Menkin, all you wanted and more even. Quite the supply of those flowers near to Zybelin's Drift and one of me riders knew where to get'em with some effort" the retreating Egar in fact, proving he was at least useful for something other than causing Krowluc headaches with his, Thieving Kyras and Bareyaras antics. Still he focused back on the conversation as both of them confirmed their various trades; Krowluc was glad to see the requested number of potions and he could check them with Nimmil later to ensure the correct contents. Trust but verify he'd call it for now.

"Menkins hearings many things, yes-yes he does, and is trues many orc-things killed by Krowlucs and Menkin's kins?"

Krowluc nodded, information trading time it seemed. Catching those raiders from an enemy clan while escorting that kobold caravan had been a one-sided slaughter. A very profitable one-sided slaughter in fact between the loot and bounty given even with having to split them "Aye, silly buggers didn't even know they'd been tracked for days when we came out of the woods I think. Brave fuckers, but not very good fighters all in all"

"Yes-yes, good-good, Menkin is glads hearings this. Alls goings wells, better than Menkins even thinks woulds. Orc-things not always smarts but here is smarts-orc-things, makings Menkins much coins and builds bigs den even for times to come. Menkin hearings orc-shaman spendings much times readings magic-things and not-seens many days befores comings and givings scrolls on metal to send human-things smiths. Menkins woulds much likes hearings of this! Woulds be nice things havings talk-talks over drinks"

'Translation; Please find a way to get the Clan Shaman to trade me whatever he's found if its useful and I'll reward you because I'm crtainly not going to lower myself to talking to that fucking Gnome-Btich of yours. Drinks for eveyone if you succeed (except the Gnome! Fuck her!) in the task' Krowluc figured as the slave-woman handed over the small potion crates to two of his riders after placing the indgredient bags into the small hand-cart.

"Yes that would be interesting to talk about wouldn't it?" he answered back thoughtfully and in a tone of 'I'll see what I can do' as some of his riders filed out glancing at the kobold questioningly 'Is the tavern open yet if he's here?'

"Goods, Menkins guesses warriors wantings drinks and Menkins likes getting shiny-coins for drinks. So comes-comes nows! All's comings to Menkins follow Menkins! Have drinks, have funs! Menkins havings Vaerier cookings and dancings! Comes ones comes alls!" the kobold stated loudly scrabbling back up to stand on the light cart and waving for attention as the human took the bar on the cart in both hands ready to push it, its contents and gesticulating kobold along with an almost bemused 'again with act' expression flashing on that face for a brief moment.

'Probably what he intended from the start' Krowluc mused as over of a dozen of his riders emerged and followed as he strode alongside the softly creaking cart as the strolled towards the little sorcerer's tavern. Little scaly fucker likely wanted to milk him and his riders for information, and get them to spend their just acquired coin and barter at his place rather than at the other market stalls. Krowluc smiled to himself as he saw a small crowd of those humans from the village trade caravan standing near the tavern as they approached. Yep, that's what the little lizard was up too it seemed. Not that he'd complain, he could do with the drink and decent bit of grub, so hopefully the barmaids whelp had the place clean and ready to give him a good flagon of strong booze when he got in. Magically chilled ale or mhrogh would hit the spot right now. Because damn...it was a really fucking hot summers evening.

--

[Vaerier 01]

Lower Slope, Stronghold of Sparta

With a sigh of relief she brought the cart to a halt in front of the tavern at the bored orders of her owner, the short kobold sitting behind her on the side of the cart chatting to the towering orc warrior leading the dozen or more orcs and human following behind. While the cart hadn't be much heavier than those she had to work with before her enslavement the day had been, and still was, a blazingly hot one so the past hour's dragging it around had been both tiring and uncomfortable. Standing up straight as she let go of the push bar, she clenched and unclenched her fingers a moment to ease them back to wakefulness before wiping some of the sweat from her brow. Glancing back for directions she saw Master Menkin motion for her to wait as he hopped down from the cart, striding over to the locked door to the tavern proper. Obediently she did having learned fairly swiftly after her purchase that disobedience would be harshly punished by her diminutive owner. Even the fact she towered over him had held no advantage as she'd briefly hoped in those first few hours; some brief applications of magic, some combat training and calmly stated threats had very quickly 'put her in her place' as her owner had stated.

Something that continued in that months that past between then and now, but despite everything it had been a massive improvement over the nightmarish period between been captured by the Icepeak Orcs and sold here in Sparta. Master Menkin, harsh taskmaster that he was, at least kept her and her daughter in good health and did not torment them for some twisted amusement; she was pretty sure that he saw her as some hybrid of trained pet and prized livestock. Still it was better than the lustful glances her unclad form was receiving from a few of those present she supposed. So obediently she stood guarding the cart as the two dozen or so orcs and humans were waved inside by her owner before he vanished inside calling out for "Fueryon come here!" as he did so.

She snorted softly in annoyance; she was 'vaerier' or 'Dancer' in his dragon tongue now while her little Katya was now 'fueryon' or 'Beast' shortened from 'nugriup feuryon' or 'hungry beast' as she'd desperately clawed her half-starved child's body back from deaths door. So she stood there as the groups filed into the tavern, occasionally shooing away one or two who came too near the handcart of Master Menkin's goods till the noise of the doorway to the storeroom creaking opening reached her ears as the wood spar locking it inside was pulled upwards. Her daughter's head poked out from the door-frame and then she waved towards the inside "Mama bring the cart and goods inside Master says. Do you want me to help?"

"No Mama's fine, just hold the door open sweetie for me" she answered hands grasping the sweat damp woden bar and dragging the cart in from under the blazing heat of the sun and into the blessed coolness of inside the log building. Or at least the less oppressive heat anyway she thoughtfully idly as she negotiated getting the cart through the barely large enough open doorway. It seemed the kegs of ale from the village traders had arrived she saw as she entered; the empty space in corner when she'd left now standing full. As she wheeled the cart carefully into place she watched as Katya shoved the awkward solid wood door closed and locked the lock-bar in place with now practiced ease. Both of them hated that damned door and it's crudely made tendency to need a good hard shove or kick at times.

"Was everything okay while Master and Mama were gone fueryon sweetie?" she asked setting the push bar of the wagon down and stepping away from it after checking it was securely in place. She hated having to call each other by these names, but Master finding out was only a Charm spell away and orders were to be followed or punishment would follow. Ones she'd cheerfully recommend herself when under the influence of Master Menkin's magic she'd found, that along with telling him whatever he asked about or of her. Her one, and only, intended escape attempt had ended thanks to that before it had even begun as first Katya, then her, had cheerfully spilled the details to the most wonderful, beautiful and glorious person in the world as they saw it at the time. The cursed collars they now wore had followed soon after the incident along with regular 'training' to stop such 'bad habits' as it'd been called.

"Yes Mama everything was fine, these big orcs came with the barrels of ale and I had them left where Master wanted. I've cleaned the common room and prepared the hog for roasting over the fire-pit for later" causing her to smile at her daughter's almost contented tone. Sometimes she forgot she wasn't a child anymore, but a girl just flowered and capable of doing these jobs without help. Still it was a mother's prerogative to worry, especially in these savage lands and the horrors her little sweetling had been forced to endure before recovering her health under Master Menkin's ownership; the waking nightmares she had were at least starting to slowly die off this past season. Franja, now called Vaerier, started to reply before their owner's diminutive form strode into the storeroom staff tapping off the wood. A quick gesture and word from him and she slid to her knees, palms and forehead pressed to the wood and hard dirt floor as he came over her still standing (and yet still taller than him) little girl

"Menkins sees Fueryons doings whats Menkins asks, goods-goods, havings eatens foods and drinks Menkins potion as Menkins orders?"

"Of course Master Menkin. Fueryon is ready and eager to serve Master Menkin as always"

"Yes-yes, nows Fueryons goes outs and taking shiny-shiny coins from orc-things and human-things and givings thems whatever gives coins fors. If ones wantings potions nots ons counters thens comes gets Menkins, sames if anys dumb-things causings troubles in Menkins place or touchings Menkins property. Wills sends Vaerier to works and takes charges you soons"

At least that was one benefit of their current position; between collars, brand and magical tattoos on their faces they were clearly marked as 'off limits' to the clientele. Who she'd weirdly found to be just like the customers to the last two Inns she had worked in; violent, sweary, smelly and grabby. She could almost hear the deep bow from her daughter before her sandal clad feet moved away from her and back out to where the noise of the common room drifted in as people found seats and chatted. Nervously she listened as her owners footsteps clicked ever so softly as walked around the storeroom to likely first check the number of kegs and such delivered were the correct numbers and quality and then to put away the items from her cart.

Still it was always unnerving just prostrating there in a silent room other than occasional faint footsteps going around her and mutterings as things were counted; every-time he neared her to get something from the cart she stilled awaiting a command or question before they moved away again. In truth she was confused when he strolled out of the storeroom after a while and even briefly wondered if he had somehow forgotten about her. Still she waited and listened as fainted footsteps returned, along with hissing mutters and the faint sound of maybe water sloshing; the sudden noise of wood on wood just to front of her head almost made her jump and look up though as it somehow caught her by surprise.

"Vaerier-thing smells Menkins tells you so cleanings self nows with bucket heres. Not drinks waters, is stuffs for smells in waters. Drinks potions heres thens, coverings selfs and gets to works. Quicks-quicks nows Menkin says! Menkins must goings gets readies for busy-busy night" were the simple instructions as she rose back up unto her knees and the kobold strolled away from her and back out of the storeroom. In truth she was delighted with the chance to get the sweat and grim of her and set about it switfly with a smile as a quick sniff gave her the smell of flowers or grass off the bucket water.

A few moments later she felt significantly better, and cleaner as she discarded the cloth head-covering and the rag around her waist before drinking down the small earthen vial in a quick motion. Then making the usual 'ugh' face briefly as the bitter tasting liquid slid down her throat. Master Menkin barely bothered with customers so with her and her daughter, and himself to be honest too, he didn't even try. Still she hummed softly to herself a few moments later as the tiredness seemed to lift from her muscles and a sudden surge of energy flow through her – by the time she had thrown on the lightest of her provided one-piece dresses and strode out into the packed and bustling common room she was thoroughly refreshed.

"...don't know Murn, its one thing to trade here with the Spartan's keeping things nice orderly"

"Look Shem the kobolds we traded those two pigs with were sayin' dat the Boss orcs are wantin' ta send stuff ta this town off east on the Long Road they're friendly wit' afer da harvest and afore de snows! We gets a few things there and sells it back home..."

"Yeah but...ain't de safest Murn and it'd be wee or two past..."

Day to day work as she served drinks to the customers and started the cooking process with the stuffed hog for later was something she enjoyed and let her pretend it was just a normal serving position. And it wasn't really that hard to imagine that despite the presence of savage orcs and goblins alongside kobolds like Master Menkin as customer were just as loud, boisterous, and potentially dangerous. Just in different ways she supposed, just as the punishments she received from her owner were similar but different to the beatings she and other serving women got in one or two of the seedier taverns she'd worked in. At least a tiny kobold couldn't swing a cane as hard as a full grown human could she thought as she delivered another round as the sun disappeared and the moon rose.

"...and I gutted that Icepeak fucker let me tell you"

"Yeah like ya said the last ten times Juak. Gonna need a new fuckin story cuz thats getting old funny and all as it is"

"HAH! But it impresses the females Kremg! Maglash and her sister are looking set to be mine at the..."

Nights were busy here, Sparta never really stopped in terms of activity really but orcs perferred night-time she'd found and the crowd always changed as the night went on and various guard groups or training units got a few hours free or finished for the day/night of duty. Like today with traders from the human villages these orcs had conquered in town the early crowd was larger than usual. Mostly the traders and their orcish escort before the usual higher status orc females or male orc magic users wandered in after their evenings training.

"...and then he started getting us mixing these things together...and POOF! Sudden blast of smoke in her face! Silly sow deserved it I say!"

"Ha! To see her face be damned fine. At least the Shaman's back showins us things agains at least even if it's all crazy stuff he mutters about been 'natural sciences' and all that stuff. Better than havin a Gnome teach us. Better the Shaman or his human"

"Snrttttt your just afraid of that Nimmil bitch since that spiders she made ye see and all yer blubberin"

"You take that back! Ah wasn't blubb..."

Slap occasional hands away was still the same, but at least here Master Menkin had placed a wooden cudgel with a stun magic of some sort on it he'd said. And it seemed to work that one time she'd used it on that unruly orc at Master Menkin's command. Not that she'd needed any encouragement as the ugly bastard at been making vile gestures at her Katya. Thankfully tonight, while frantically busy, seemed to have a crowd more interested in drinking and getting some of the hog her daughter began slicing up after a few hours cooking. Not that she herself had much time to watch as the room was packed and the demand for drinks constant. So illuminated by lantern and fire-pit light she moved this way and that in a well practiced routine learned since she was her daughter's age as Master Menkin handed her yet another tray of ales and a brandy.

--

When: End of Summer, 1354 Dale Reckoning

Where: Town Area below the Stronghold

Yes I admit my past few entries have been rather...rambling/insane sounding in general but I've gotten over my bout of nostalgia induced madness from having access to the powers of the Tome of Wiki (I get to name my own damn magic items if I so want!) so back to normal. In the end its just a tool, and one what was consuming my very limited time with things I can't easily work on right now or with the resources available. Wasting more damned time on the possibility of restarting that failed cannon project is a good example of that. In Time I can exploit the Tome but In Time is not now and I need to be selective and start project & time managing properly. Also one of my actually useful reading sessions were little things reminding me how to do simple (very simple) Gantt and Pert Charts. The others may think its me drawing crazy squiggles and further proof of the bout of idiocy but it helps me with planning. Not having clocks and easy time management devices hurts in this regards but even getting stuff down to a Night/Day schedule starts to give a much clearer idea of what'll be available when, and in what quantity based on resources.

As such this has led into my main push in the coming months – be better at what we're already teaching and training rather than trying to jump to untenable endpoints of technology. Mathematics, literacy, tactics and magic as such are my main priorities in the next two seasons as they have before. But the Tome of Wiki helps massively with that and I've been unto Ned and Nimmil about more focused lesson plans; this a military academy right now and I need to get my lot to the next level. Again charts help with this. I like charts and easily visible written schedules. Which requires parchment and ink (though my magic pen also works) of course. So paper-making has become one of my first major projects, which means water so that's why I'm down here on the lower slopes seeing how we stand on more effectively getting more water from the river to here. Stil even without that I've managed to get a basic setup going after only a few failures. Thank you Cai Lun of China for your step by step guide pictures to go with old articles of European methods; thanks to all this I've managed to get (ugly looking honestly) parchment produced that doesn't fall apart. Over the winter I'm going to make up a really basic printing press assuming we start getting paper and have enough after magic scroll production. And charts, graphs, and schedules of course, can't forget those.

Now in terms of actual direct military projects; well this can be boiled down to better quality black powder and repeating crossbows. Well repeating ballista is a better description as the only one I've managed to get built was one that was started out as a standard crappy ballista. Anyway design is crude but works, mostly, and it only takes a little longer to produce than a standard ballista. Biggest drawback is that its pretty inaccurate and has less power behind it – though enchanting the bolts might help with that in some small way. Maybe. Still I need a counter to the Fire Giants the Furry Fucker has and this is the best I can come up with, regular size repeating crossbows would also help in sieges or bottleneck terrain where accuracy can be simplified somewhat. I think, we'll have to test that out when we have a few of the things and an a supply of ammo. Mora Dakka is always good. So my plan is to affix them to the Hussite War-wagons been constructed as that holds them steady enough for ease of use and platform to hold it steady. Other than that I've been thinking gunpowder mines that we can trigger with fire runes 'remotely' in a battlefield situation. The main restraint is powder supplies so I've focused on learning how to improve powder quality and training my acolytes in how to produce it. Since it kinda needs to be blessed and all that to be sure it works safely and properly. Ugh. Anyway that's taken some time but we're getting through the first stages.

In personal news, well Mara's belly is getting bigger. Just like with Oggy that terrifies me as baby time approaches and my paranoid mind tells me of all the stuff that can go wrong. Still Oggy's told me to shut up, stop whining be she's 'healing priestess Karg so don't be stupid' and stay out of the way. Something I'm happy to do really between the books and training. Free time is hard to come by as there's so much to do. Missy at least seems to be delighted I've come out of 'MUSTLEARNITALL' mode and have stopped acting like an crazy old hermit wanting to sit in my room all day muttering over a book and scribbling nonsense. I'm glad of that since she, well she, Mara and Kethri, I think was a little huffy over moving Lua and Tris in the room. This was not my idea but Lua's by the way...and I was distracted by the Tome of Wiki while I agreed so...yeah kinda blinked one day and there they were. Initially I think it was because more people in the room, though now I think it's because Lua...is Lua. Oggy thinks its amusing and more importantly a sign of power. Everything is about showing power and status in the clan with Oggy I find. Lucky me I've someone to manage that side of the equation I guess as my old world morals can get in the way sometimes. And having another cleric and mage in the rooms adds another level of protection for my little Karrgy if someone tries to Shadow Baby me once again. Damn this world is messed up sometimes. Gotta go now, weapon testing to carry out.

--

When: 1354 DR, start of Autumn (if you'd believe that with the heatwave that's lasted)

Where: My Tower

Busy, busy, busy, and back to being SimCity Mayor (Orc Edition) I'm afraid. I know most won't get the reference but as harvest nears, and then the winter after, those of us in charge of such areas have to start planning. Yet more time from thinks I'd like to do but this is my job so just gonna have to suck it up I guess. Partially because some of it is of my own making; I've summoned certain skilled labour (blacksmiths, metalworkers, carpenters, magic users etc) from our vassals in very polite fashion (well for orcs) so between them, the various leaders arriving and of course our allies over the winter months the town part below us is going to fill again. Except by now most buildings have been claimed or damaged because their unclaimed. That and I'm trying to get a rough drainage system in place before we get disease from the chaotic mess of lack of building regulations. For instance a kobold sorcerer has managed turn three buildings into one big tavern in the past few months, which is good by and large and the more wh do stuff like that the better as it means I don't have to arrange it. But it does reflect the fact that those buildings are no longer there to just pack in soldiery or kit out for other clans, etc, etc. So we're having quick survey time to see what's there, what can be done easily, what we'd need to do it and a guesstimate at what we'll need. At least I've a recipe for cement and mortar now compared to before. Sigh.

Other than that I've got requests to trade from our minions. Kobolds and humans if you can believe in some sort of weird cooperation ala Let Greed Unite Us moment. Which is fine, good even really, save for having to have to Longsaddle after the harvest in a short while. This shockingly good weather speeding that date ever closer than planned I suspect. There is stuff we need, it'll make the vassal villages happier. And I have to go and deal with Harpells because its evident I'll have to lead this thing. Thank you Zah. Grrr. It's not that long a trip to there an back but again; busy, busy, busy and stuff to do. Which will be delayed by the time-consuming negotiations before and during the trip to keep everyone in line, all while watching for potential raiders and ambushes. Despite all this its not a bad idea and I'm going to go through with it, albeit as quickly as possible after sending word to the crazy wizards we plan to sent a trade caravan in X number of weeks. There's things I need and things I'd like to get to help the war effort and proving we're 'friendly' will hopefully keep them off our backs. Hopefully. That and it gives us a chance to test the situation with the Redjaw Gnolls and to see the true extent of the Moonblade's resettlement. If we can secure that flank then we can start making plans to deal with our enemies.

Speaking of enemies. Raids into the valley have been minor enough so far, likely due to the fact the Red Axes (wonder of wonders) appear to have to told the truth on their two warnings, and those attacking in the other raids are young idiots left behind by their clans. Typical orcish lack of discipline mixed with an urge for glory at a perceived weak clan. Our slaughtering of these brave idiots seems to have discouraged others at least, or the fact word has reached other clans of the Icepeaks fate. Whatever the case Wyrmog's mob is only now starting to break up for the year; our scouts have seen war-bands heading home and both the Mooblades and Darth Phargks lot have sent word of similar. Some of the young warriors who've joined us over the year (due to hating Wyrmog, looking for glory or a woman, or other reasons) have said similar so looks like the steam has left Horde for this year. It's still ongoing as best we can tell as Wyrmog's banners haven't been seen and those returning are loot-laden largely. Or at least most of them were – a few suffered being raided by out little alliance now whats there's is ours.Its the circle of life, well loot, and all that I guess. Good news for us in general as it's getting less and less likely we'll be targeted this year. If we're lucky not next year either as better loot will be thought to lie off in the civilized lands and Wyrmog likely wants to grow the Horde so as to go after the true big game; Mirabar at the best, Griffons Nest or Nesme further east the most likely. Hard to know for sure though so we ain't letting our guard down.

Have to go now, have to see how to stop this place appearing to be a fire hazard.

--

When: 1354 DR, Harvest Time

Where: Stronghold of Sparta

Yeah I'm the poor schmuck who has to do caravan duty. Good news at least is Red, I mean Rose, is back in a week or so – girl even sent me a letter and all to show how good she's getting at her letters. I'm impressed and she's getting a reward when she gets here. That and I'm surprised to admit I'm looking forward to seeing Ghorza and having her hard-headed stubbornness around when we discuss strategy for the coming war. Yes she and Zah clash to high heavens but once you batter down her inner zealot a bit she's not a half bad tactician.

Anyway that's about 2-4 weeks away depending on how long it takes for the various 'traders' to arrive after the harvest has been gathered, metal and good readied, etc. That and listen to all the stuff my Chieftains, Wife, acolytes, local businessmen...everyone basically...gives me or others lists of stuff they want. Missy has been a massive help in this regards, as to my surprise has Tris, but having 'I want...' has been constant these past few days along with planning what to bring to trade. And have as escort (I'm going with Krowluc's cavalry and a squad each of humans, goblins and kobolds) to guard it...

Yeah have to go now, Missy approaches with scrolls in hand and I must leave my lovely, lovely, Tome of Wiki behind when I leave. Best make the most use of it now while I can I guess.

--