In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

21. Entry 21

[Krowluc 14]

Inner Keep, Sparta

"...and then the gnoll points at her belly and goes: 'Grows strong'! Then she points at Egar and goes... YOUSE!!!" Kyras was drunkenly announcing, waving a nearly empty flagon in one hand like a weapon. Laughing, she swung her other arm around the shoulders of the mortified looking human for emphasis as laughter echoed backed alongside some whistles and more than a few horrified looks from the visiting humans. Krowluc shook his head in mild exasperation at her antics as Bareyaras egged on his female counterpart. The feast had barely begun and they were already drunk enough to need watching! Which would probably be less of an annoyance if they hadn't been put as a sort of 'civilized' buffer between the group from the crazy Harpell family and the other orcs in the great hall. There were proper guards too of course, the Shaman's and Chieftain's personal ones, but his riders served as an informal 'friendly' barrier between this lot and any of the usual outbreaks of fighting at a feast.

"Gods, he's another bloody Bareyaras isn't he?" Nimmil muttered to him as he took a swig of the fine tasting Zybelin's Drift Ale. It was damned good stuff, and free too to boot! One of the benefits - alongside getting the best food and entertainment - for them and their 'helpfulness' with the outsiders at this great feast. He nodded back to their gnomish illusionist (and person mostly responsible for getting this spot sitting near enough the clan's higher ups).

"Oh he's fuckin' worse he is! It's like the two idjits have a competition goin' along with Kyras over who can make my job the most bloody inconvenient..." he replied with a sigh as one of the humans from Longsaddle, the guard or militia captain he believed, snorted in amusement and interjected. Krowluc figured it was a good sign and let him do so with out any issue since his wizard bosses were seated just beside them. Wizard bosses that Nimmil thought were mental in the head... and she worked with the other mad mage sitting beside them: the currently in orcish form Doctor Ned who was currently talking enthusiastically to the younger Harpell.

"I think all of us suffer from similar problems with some of our subordinates Captain Krowluc," Roland, wasn't it?... answered with a bemused smile. It was perhaps lightly forced, but being surrounded by hundreds of orc warriors in their own stronghold likely had that effect on a man. Just as he himself was unhappy with being in any possible crossfire between mages and orcs if a fight broke out. Still, considering the situation it was one of the more pleasant possibly dangerous missions he'd performed: most of them didn't have fine tasting booze after all. So he smiled back as best he could to keep the pleasant atmosphere going and gave a good-natured chuckle.

"Aye, there's always a few aren't there? But don't be concerned, tha' lot may act like a buncha idiots but they do the job as well as any. Boss orcs keep pretty tight order 'ere anyhow so won't be any trouble , I'll tell ya the honest truth. Ye enjoyin' it a little at least?"

"Well, I'll admit that I am a little. I never thought I'd see the day that I could say that about this kinda situation..." The human militia captain shrugged, then motioned with his free hand at the great numbers of orcs in the place, and all the human, goblin (and some kobolds) levies raised from the valley. All either from the squads that'd done best these past few weeks and from the various group leaders as most of the levies would be feasting out in the courtyard or 'town' area. Supposedly this whole thing was about freeing the Shaman's pet wizard slave - a notion which almost made Krowluc snort in amusement in front of the Harpells. The female clearly hadn't been a slave at any point since he'd arrived and this was all just some shuffling of influence and attempt to raise morale amongst the levies with the mixture of feast and ceremony.

That and maybe to encourage competition and rivalry amongst the slaves with the hope of being freed for obedience and good service. He found it was all rather ruthless but well thought out. It was good to have sensible and intelligent employers: settling in here was proving to have been a good choice all in all. Especially if they managed to get on the good side of the likes of the Harpell family and secured both a trade route and a defended flank. So he'd play his part in the plans of his unusually wise orc war-leaders and waved out at the milling crowd of feasters.

"Well, we had the same thought ourselves when we came here," he motioned with his thumb at the gnome beside him "and now Nimmil here doesn't even want to leave that bloody tower to do any proper work in the field!"

"Ah fuck you Boss, I like me nice warm comfy bed and time to study more than all that mud and aches out there... As the last ten-day proved..." she muttered back and rubbed her leg for a moment "... I'm still fucking sore after all that. They treat a wizard proper here, let me tell you!"

"More like they made ya fuckin lazy," he replied with a snort. Downing the remains of the flagon, ha continued and waived for more. "That was a pleasant fuckin' promenade and yer whinin' like it was a bloody hard cross country job."

The older human wizard decided to intervene in a rather calm tone that seemed slightly out of place in the boisterous atmosphere of the place. "Well to offer some words of defence for thine colleague, few mages willingly choose the hard life of the traveller and adventurer for the comforts and joys that such a lifestyle brings."

Nimmil grinned. "See, wise words Cap, wise words. This Dread Gnome ere' will take regular meals and a warm bed over travellin' through cold and rain any the ten-day!"

Two scantily clad slave women sashayed over bearing fresh drinks as a mixture of looks came from Longaddle group: mostly lustful ones, but the priestess was glaring at her fellow villagers and the older wizard's face seemed merely questioning, almost unconcerned by all of this. Krowluc simply took another ale off them as they passed. They were nice lookers by orc standards for human females anyway, though he guessed they'd been serving in the Keep for months from their pale coloured skin and lack of the telltale signs of field-slave work. He expected they were probably relieved to be assigned to serving the humans and the cavalry riders. Over on the dais the orc Shaman was standing up and yelling something about slaves, hard work, freedom and the wizard Missy. Krowluc tuned the whole thing out as some of the low level hubbub of conversation continued throughout the room, as usual during these things. The Harpell wizards seemed to be focused upon what Karguk was saying - except for the younger one who was talking to the orcified necromancer - though the older one (Malchor?) spoke quietly so as not to drown out the speech but loud enough to be heard by his neighbours.

"Passing strange to see a ceremony such as this is it not Captain Krowluc? Do you have an opinion on the reason behind this feast of sorts?"

He shrugged after taking a drink. "Ahh, shur makes sense to me since she lightening bolted that fire giant's balls off few seasons back and the ways she gets to boss some this lot around sometimes. Izz just doin' what was already the case I'd guess. Dunno really: she been here and like that since we came here, that right Nims? You see more of 'em than I would."

"Phhffttt, she gots'em wrapped round her finger like alls his women, slave me sexy gnome arse! She gets treated better than ah do! And I'm the magnificent magical Dread Gnome, folks! He probably got her preggers I reckon, and now 'e wants her wee one as his heir or somethin'd be my guess, and this all would be 'bout makin' whole thing seem more impressive. Ye orcs all love yer big fancy gestures and such, don't ya Cap?"

"Perhaps Milady Nimmil, perhaps." The bearded older Harpell mage replied with a nod towards the standing Shaman as his orcish wives came forward and began saying something after banging a staff of office on the stone floor. "But one believes that it would be best to listen as they call for attention."

'Or you wish to, and you're the guests for us to make happy according to the bosses so quiet it is," he thought to himself as shouts to 'SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!" echoed out from the dais before the whole speech thing started again as the slave-wizard woman strolled forward confidently all dressed up in expensive looking robes obviously meant to impress. Likely for the non-Spartan Illuskan orcs Krowluc imagined as most anyone with any lick of sense within his new clan and employers,didn't pick a fight with the Shaman's pet fire-wielding minion. Well that and expect to live anyway from either her or the other members of that harem of magic wielding witches. Personally Krowluc thought that orc was crazy: it'd be like having to put up with a handful of human sized Nimmils! The horror!

'Blah, blah, blah, blah, great service - meaning great in bed - blah, blah, blah, honour and power something... strength and earned...' he translated the shouting orc's words as he pulled the gold collar off the woman's neck. Was she crying? Good acting there, and she wasn't even making any noise either – he expected this bit was likely aimed at the Longsaddle crowd, as the Shaman droned on "... our strength grows, blah, blah, blah... one of us... blah, blah, blah, now me wife... wow Nimmil's right fer once... blah, blah, something about forged in battle or the like..."

He tuned out most of the rest of it as one of the serving slaves came back with another refill for him. Nice tits on this one he found as he took the flagon off her. All in all the group from the Harpells seemed a mixture of confused and perhaps happy at the little ceremony that the orcs had going on, or at least this talk of the slaves that 'earned' freedom through their strength or some should be given it for the glory of the clan. Not a bad idea really, Krowluc himself planned on doing something similar in years to come with his young slave stable-hands: train them up proper and then have them part of the company.

It was a pretty basic way to recruit up here in the Savage Frontier due to the nature of slaves and peasants: sure they could escape but they usually had nowhere to go afterwards. It was something his own mother had learned bitterly over the years: life was about the strong and the weak in the end, and the human world was cruel and unforgiving as well as hypocritical. It seemed, as always with his orcish side, that strength meant you got to rise in the ranks despite your origins and bloodline. He supposed it was good news for him and his company. As the feasting restarted after the boring stuff was gotten out of the way, he turned back to those around him.

"Well now that whole thing's over we can get back to enjoyin' the feast and talkin'..."

--

[Missasri 22]

[Shaman's Tower, Stronghold of Sparta]

Missasri yawned softly, stretching lithely against the form beside her as she felt the aftereffects of the previous day and night's drinking and debauchery within her. Still, despite the hangover's lingering curse, she hummed contentedly. The room was nice and dark, and beneath the furs it was warm and comfortable. That and her free hand strayed up from the form beside to touch her neck: gone was the collar that had decorated it for so long. Fingers ran over now bare skin and she hummed almost contentedly to herself at the confirmation that she hadn't just dreamed that it was gone.

Her traitorous mind idly reminded her that it was entirely possible. Her current memories of the events of the last few hours were a little... hazy... right now, beyond a few rather... vivid... memories that came to mind. Which of course caused her to blush as she recalled their details just as the hand of the arm underneath her ran across her back, its owner evidently stirred awake by her movements. Truth be told she suddenly had the urge to imitate the half-elf Tris and dive beneath the furs and hide as she blinked her eyes open and glanced upwards.

"Go...oodd..ddd Morn..ing Master... hehehe, fair tidings and... Ah, sorry?" she managed to get out as her orcish owner yawned groggily and then looked down at her with a tired - or maybe bemused - smile on his tusked face as he too blinked rapidly awake. Silence greeted her for a moment as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand, then smiled back at her again as he held her closer. His voice was as gruff and hoarse as her own felt as it emerged from his mouth.

"Hnnn, someone's awake again? How's the head?"

She looked away and settled for resting her head against his chest as she replied, mostly to hide the blush and mortification she felt swirling inside. Missasri was a good and respectable girl really and, well, eh... Certainly not embarrassed by the previous day's alcohol-backed behaviour as she whispered out a reply. "Um, ah... a little sore Sir, but okay, I guess..."

"Oh? Someone's gotten all shy all of a sudden... Ah, sobered up huh?" came back as a hand petted her hair despite being interrupted by a tired yawn. "...Gods above does my head feel like a bag of bricks fell on it. Ah... You, ah yeah you don't need be calling me that now ya know? I think we... uhh... talked about it. Maybe? Pretty sure?"

"Habit Master..." She caught herself as her mind struggled to push through the haze of tiredness and alcohol-induced aftereffects "I mean...ugh, Si-Karg, sorry..." she giggled nervously to herself "... Ah, ha, hehe... It takes a bit of getting used to, honestly."

And it really was something that she was finding hard to wrap her head around now that events had happened as they had. Or what path she herself had chosen in line with those events. Just the fact that she was free, no collar encircling her neck as a sign of her slavery, was something her tired mind struggled to grasp as a concept. Being promised it was one thing, but actually being so was something else entirely. Even now she had to remind herself not to use 'Master' or 'Sir' as she had gotten used to using every day these past few years since the beginning of her captivity.

Of course that barely scratched the surface of the differences a day could make as she lay under the comfy furs in the reassuring gloom of the Shaman's Tower. At least in some strange way that made up for the fact that her choices had somehow already turned into reality in the blink of an eye. Not that it was a bad choice she thought as she found herself starting to relax against Mas-Karguk and enjoy the fact that this should hopefully be a day of rest. That and it was still nice just to be held as she closed her eyes and calmed the roiling seas that seemed to be her emotions right now.

"Ah, you will Missy. You certainly seemed assertive enough after a few drinks..." He teased back and she found herself blushing again.

Gods above she'd imagined 'getting into the role' to decide her new place after a few drinks as one thing, but... She'd hadn't imagined enjoying a significant part of it. Mother had... Told her of such duties as to be expected of a woman and wife, but taking pleasure from it was not one of them. Rather it was to bind a contract for the family, or in an effort to provide a heir for her new husband. With her value already lost due to her years of slavery - none would believe her on the truth of the situation after all - she had opted for the position that would give her the greatest benefit in her own current life. Here she could study and perfect her craft under a true Master of the Arcane with a patron to support her, travel with some measure of support when she had to, and... perhaps keep these orcs upon a civilized path? To do something important in her life now that she'd earned her freedom. Earned a place in this world with her own strength, her own will.

"Oh could you two please shut up!" A feminine voice whined as the Drow Lua made her opinion known, Tris still snoring ever so softly against her dark night skin. "Some of us need to get some sleep despite your best efforts to stop them!"

Mast-Karguk snorted in tired amusement, glancing over at the white haired elven woman that Missy could see from her spot, head still resting on his chest. "Says you Lua, that's why you shouldn't have drank all that brandy now isn't it?"

Despite her own discomfort from the celebrations Missasri couldn't help but chuckle as the terrifying creature of the Underdark hissed in annoyance at Karguk and rubbed her obviously aching head as she once again took to whining. "But it was sooooo nice at the time and you're supposed to get drunk at weddings..."

"Ha! Not that drunk I'd expect!"

The drow simply muttered unintelligibly in response. Missasri took the moment to survey the room: Rose was still asleep just off to her side, while Mara and Kethri were dozing over by the children. It seemed Mistresses Ogrash and Ghorza were already up as the smell of food reached her nose and made her mouth water and stomach rumble. Something her... husband... seemed to be in agreement with as his did the same as he glanced back at her. "Hungry too? You feel like getting up? Or rest a bit more... Your choice."

And that there cheered her heart to a surprising degree. Her choice, hers... She knew it was ridiculous to feel that way over such a stupid small thing at that, but it just felt incredibly good for some reason as he waited for her response. She ran her hand over his chest and did her best to act 'seductive' towards him. She could admit she wasn't very good at it but it certainly was fun... Then she grinned down at him. "Get up Ma-Karg, food first, rest later."

He huffed in annoyance after giving her a look. She was almost afraid he'd reject that for a moment, but he just patted her on the butt muttering "Alrite then my little vixen up you get. Gods above, Oggy must be rubbing off on you already."

It was in many ways easier to push her embarrassment and confused emotions from earlier behind some false bravado as she hauled herself up to a standing position, head still a little woozy. Nevertheless, she was surprisingly at peace with her decision to go through with all this. The ceremony to free her, and well... marry her too she supposed, had been done before the entirety of the clan and its guests like that terrifying old orc Phargk. Even those mad Harpell wizards and their escort had been in attendance in the packed and noisy Keep as that collar was taken from her neck. She could also understand that Mas-Karguk had wanted to use her freeing as an example to the other orcs of his clan on how to treat their slaves.

That was something she could get behind, and he'd delivered on granting her such as he'd promised to her all those months ago. Of course she could guess that the timing of the arrival of the Longsaddle mages was likely a catalyst for that decision, but then again she knew Karguk from their time together. He could have made that decision now because it would have given her a way out of the stronghold. Something he had offered, and she had considered in all honesty, but only a part of her had: staying here for now seemed better than trying to go back to... She wasn't even sure anymore.

When Mistresses Ogrash and Ghorza had taken her aside and... talked... about things and how they wanted her to decide her position in the 'household' once again she had been almost tempted to leave. It had been nerve-wracking and so sudden, as if she was an orc herself but talking to Karguk, and then Rose, had swayed her to the path she had now taken. There had been no great words, a'd she expected neither had even known that they were swaying her. But they had, along with Lua and Tris in their own way, and the two sisters Mara and Kethri had reminded her of what she liked about this place as a home. Taking a place of 'power' within the household, beneath the 'senior wives' at least allowed her to help them and others to a limited degree while she learned her magic. She held her hand out to her former owner to help him stand and smiled. This hadn't been a bad decision, all in all...

--

When: Close of Spring, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Shaman's Tower

Well I've gone and freed Missy, or at least I did several days ago and I'm only getting around to actually sitting down and writing it today. Mostly because going into the ceremony there was a mountain of minor little tasks and things to handle as Shaman with Oggy and Ghorza, and afterwards... Well, let's say there was lots of drinking and general merriment, and recovering from all of it took a while. Honestly Missy surprised me by accepting the whole proposition, and then again with her rather cheerful, and even aggressive behaviour after the ceremony and a large quantity of ale. I'm not complaining mind you as was it rather pleasant, but I really should have expected it to happen when she was actually fully free and coming to her own decisions without having to look to me for orders. Evidently the first things she wanted upon being freed were drink, food and debauchery. Go figure. Honestly I don't understand women sometimes; or at all maybe.

The following night and day was really taken up by the need to recover from the ceremony and celebrations: all we did was eat, feel tired again and go back to bed. So nothing got done, but truth be told it was nice to get away from all the stress and work for few days at least. Though I'm really, really, glad that nothing bad happened due to my delegating roles to my subordinates and allies in the clan, ranging from Ghorza to Zah. Case in point: both of them avoided any issues by avoiding being in the same location, all for the good of the clan.

Because we've already got enough to deal with now without having some stupid brawl break out amongst the leadership. I suspect Oggy and Breyza are somewhat behind that newfound state of 'harmony' between those two as well, probably by easing tensions and reminding them of the growth of the clan and of future ambitions. I'm not entirely sure as I've only got part of the story between Oggy and Ghorza but at the least it pulled off Missy's freeing and marriage without a hitch. If you want to know who performed the ceremony marrying us it was Oggy. She is the Priestess of Luthic after all.

Outside of my own household the main people I have to follow up on reactions to these events are Darth Phargk, Old Brejuk, the dangerous Arch-mage Malchor Harpell and his visiting family. Especially the two mages who're going to be staying here and will soon be freed from the firm hand of their senior relative. They're getting on far too well with Doctor Ned for me not to be concerned about random things catching fire or exploding in the name of MAGIC! SCIENCE! and whatnot. On the bright side I think that I might have made some progress in convincing them of our mostly good intentions - or, well, non-traditional orc ones at least - towards the region.

This may sound sad to future generations, but really not being the biggest assholes on the block is hilariously easy. Being the 'best' of a bad bunch of neighbours merely involves not being stupid evil, too greedy, or visibly crazy. In all honesty the fact the likes of the Harpells appear to be favouring us in whatever minor way should show how bad some of our neighbours are. Let's just say it's never a good sign when the highly militarised orcs are the civilized ones in a given region. And in truth the relatively positive response from the Longsaddle delegation has surprised me a little, as well as the fact I can keep the likes of Phargk on board with it. Although that's most likely due to the Harpells having singlehandedly shattered Hordes that have assaulted their village in the past: orcs respect strength and these mages are both powerful and crazy.

It's only sensible to leave such strong neutrals be when there is a literal sea of other enemies all around, both in our fellow orcs and the Uthgardht Tribes - and Luskan of course, can't forget about Luskan and its Host-tower of the Arcane. With enemies like that then I'd managed to convince the others we needed to at least have firm neutrals to deal with. Usually it'd be the Hobs or other mercenary traders, but here there's been a framework of sorts to build on and we're doing just that right now.

Now, unto the practical matters after my little rest break! The levies have been assembled after they themselves enjoyed the feast alongside my clan-orcs. I'll admit that it's a morale building-thing: they serve out of a mixture fear and self interest, and largess from overlords is so rare at times in the Savage Frontier that it can't help but impress. Taking them away from their homes tends to cause unhappiness, but throwing good food, booze and whores at them tends to counterbalance that and *maybe* help build loyalty of sorts to the new order in the valley. It also helps integrate the humans with their orcish officers and special cases like Lua.

With the kobolds and goblins it's more a matter of proving to be successful and powerful overlords who are good for them to serve and dangerous to oppose. This'll be the second year we've achieved that, and this time around we're up against a more dangerous foe where every disciplined and motivated warrior counts. The Furry Fucker relies upon ferocious berserkers, his fire giants, and overwhelming numbers - but hopefully they've been reduced greatly by his latest humiliation. Summer will be upon us soon so I expect we'll know then where and if the hammer falls. And when it does I want us to be ready for it, with the main army under Zah and Darth Phargk and the forces here in the valley itself under myself and Old Breyjuk.

We're still dividing up the army, but I expect the older and veteran warriors will follow Zah alongside the bulk of the kobold levies, while the defence will be left to the trainees backed up by my guards and some remaining 'elite' squads. Well, them and the female auxiliaries archers and the human levies. I've decided to integrate the best of these auxiliaries into the levy auxlia to free up the orc officers there for the newer clan squads – that and the few females would be harder to fit in within the standard squads. And it'll let the smarter ones rise to the limit of their abilities within the ranks. And... it lets us increase the number of our combat squads while still having enough orcish numbers within the human levies to prevent any trouble and build discipline since they are our second best infantry units and my wife Ghorza is in charge of them. I expect that that's why Zah wants to leave them here at the stronghold with me. They may be talking politely now, but best not have them campaign together without me or Oggy being present.

In terms of equipment and magic, thins are going pretty well. My magical tanks are just finished. I'm planning on doing test runs as soon as Malchor leaves or the Moonblades arrive. The tests of the various components along the way have been positive so far, but all the last minute tinkering before the feast may or may not have delivered the finished project as planned - or it might not be up to specifications. Yes I might be trying to keep my toys here a little longer by hoping they're not finished yet, but they'd be a help to Zah and Phargk so I'm fighting that urge. I think they can make a difference on the battlefield in conjunction with the standard war-wagons and the Hwacha. We've even managed to assemble some basic siege engines and field artillery like catapults and the beginnings of some trebuchets. Zah wants to strike hard at one of the Furry Fucker's allies as soon as spring properly ends and the ground firms up from a dry spell. Strike hard, strike fast, destroy a stronghold and force Wyrmog to give battle on ground and timing of our choosing. Both Old Breyjuk and Darth Phargk agree, as do several of the minor bands here, so I'm going to do my best to provide the tools he'll need to do that; be it weapons, spell-casters or shock troops. I'm a cleric of Ilneval after all: I guess it seems to go with the job.

Sadly I must say goodbye for now. Missy wants to go through more of our arcane studies before we have to head down to the levies with Ghorza and try and get them and the auxiliaries organised into solid fighting units. Plus Rose too of course since she's someone that the Zybelin's Drift villagers know and trust, while being mine and Ghorza's apprentice as well. Let's try and get this army ready for another year of battles.

Anyway, Slan go foile a chardai.

--

[Roland 04]

Lower Slopes, Stronghold of Sparta

Being in an orc-run fortress was still unnerving, Roland found as he followed Lord Malchor and Captain Gludoc as the group walked towards the 'town' area of said stronghold. With an escort provided by the orcs of course, as the 'trainee orc wizard' named Halnguk strode beside them with a few guards. An orc who was to return with them, along with another, while the two younger Harpell mages stayed in this bizarre place in return.

Something they had seemed disturbingly fine with judging from their recent enthusiastic chats with an orc necromancer of all things. Roland himself would be glad to get back to Longsaddle where some measure of sanity still reigned. Or at least where there was only Harpell madness to deal with rather than theirs and a bunch of crazy unnatural orcs up in the mountains.

Not that he wasn't all behind the idea of civilized orcs who weren't going to raid farms near the village... He just didn't want to have to live amongst them. Let them be civilized and well behaved far away from he and his. Their small party stopped for a little while as their escort and one of the patrols chatted amongst themselves a little distance away. They'd been given mostly free reign amidst these orcs and it was relatively clear to Roland that Lord Malchor was surveying the valley laid out before them beneath the bright evening sky.

Or more likely the small army massing and drilling out upon the flatlands just beyond the wheat fields and walls of the orc stronghold. What's worse is that it was a small orc-led army that part of Roland was almost glad to see forming up considering the wars that had been erupting in the Crags of late. These orcs at least were willing to treat with Mage-Lord Harpell's brother and act as some sort of civilized beings.

"And there goes the drow. I'd expect she'll join the training too," Captain Gludoc said in a low and curious tone, nodding to their right. Roland's gaze followed the nod and saw that he was correct as a lightly armoured drow strolled down the steps alongside some orcish guards and an elf, or half-elf, woman whose armour and clothing bore the symbols of this orc clan upon them, almost like crude surcoats. Another drow trailed behind them in robes and a slave collar as the armoured one and the elf chatted casually amongst themselves and the orcs they walked with. This place truly was strange to his eyes.

He nodded back to his senior: "Indeed. I believe they're the young shaman's one and his guards, from the symbols?"

"Yes they are. That's Illusk, Sparta-clan and the leader's personal crest upon the various surcoats as best I can tell from this distance. That drow claims to worship one of the non-evil gods of her wicked kind, but that is hard to believe in truth. Dark of skin and dark of heart is what I understand of her kind, not the type of creature that we should trust or listen to its words."

Roland nodded in agreement. "Aye, but there..." he began before falling silent respectfully as Lord Malchor came to stand between them. He gazed at the town below them and the army beyond. It was always so hard to tell the moods of the rather stern and sensible Harpell wizard as his face tended to remain, as it was now, calm and stoic with a slightly unhappy tinge. Even his tone was harsh and measured as always, indicating neither displeasure nor happiness on these sights and matters.

"I would suggest you be wary of offending or mocking the words of anyone's loved ones, human or orc, as they may be displeased to hear of such."

Both he and Captain Gludoc bowed fractionally but respectfully to their superior. "Of course Milord."

He nodded curtly and returned to gazing out over the town and fields as the orcs stood a distance away, once again allow them space. Evidently they had orders from their Shaman and Chieftains, or perhaps this was all a deliberate show of strength on their part. Considering the nature of these orcs and all the events of the past ten-day including the feasting and negotiations it actually seemed likely. Lord Malchor spoke to them without looking back.

"A good view from here, is it not?"

"Yes Milord, it is indeed"

"Sherriff Roland, do you agree?"

Roland nodded "Yes, Milord, if a somewhat strange one I'll admit. I'd never thought to see a force of orcs, nor other creatures that serve them, being raised up before my eyes and not expect to face them within moments on the field."

Or more accurately stand behind walls and defences while the great mages of the Ivy Mansion rained fiery death down upon any such attackers. While those of the village could do little after a scant few leagues journey from the village's environs, within that area they were relatively safe from even the greatest of enemy armies, be they human, orc or other such enemies. Yes the Harpells were mad wizards and witches but in the end they were Longsaddle's mad wizards and witches.

"An understandable position to take Sherriff, understandable indeed, but one finds that some progress can be made with these ones at the very least. Far better perhaps than the other options that are available to us I imagine. And how was your time amongst those below us while I talked with the rulers of this stronghold after their great feast?"

"Interesting Milord, interesting and strange in varying degrees as when we first arrived. A few drinks with them and just like most any man or woman their tongues are loose and cheerful to tell of all they know. To my surprise I have found the mood amongst the ranks, of the human and half-elf blooded kind at least, to be rather jubilant or at least lacking in the hatred of their overlords than one would expect. There has been fights and blood spilled but not much more than I'd have expected among the ranks of any army called to arms for battle as this one is. Grouping drunken armed warriors sadly tends to lead to such outcomes regardless of species."

Their leader actually chuckled ever so faintly at that for some reason. "Sadly, they do indeed Sheriff, indeed..." He sniffed. "And they are serving under orcish leaders?"

He nodded. "Aye Milord, formerly under younger orc warriors but now for some reason the younger shaman ordered them to serve alongside and under the command of female orcs in many cases. Perhaps part of their enthusiasm is because word that they are not to march to battle against the other orc horde and continue training instead has reached their ears. Not an unsurprising reason for merriment in my opinion, or an unreasonable one either. It seems the young shaman and old warchief will stay here, and the young warchief and old shaman will lead the armies forth. That's perhaps also unsurprising, as the young shaman has recently married and I think his other wife (who is also a priestess) has given birth."

"As I had expected in some measure, from what we have seen the old Shaman is the most dangerous here in terms of powers, but the younger one is both more and less dangerous in other ways I believe... New wife , hmph! As if... But it's an interesting force training and combination we have seen here. Even the drow you have seen serves them willingly. Furthermore, I would know of her Deity and the..."

--

[Zahgorim 17]

Stronghold of Sparta

"Chief Jernak! Good to see you made it back to us with a mighty host," he greeted his allied Chieftain as the ranks of Moonblade warriors marched into the camp area on the lower slopes of the stronghold with the rest of their small horde. It was good to see thousands of warriors allied with his clan and preparing to march forth to battle as a mighty horde. They were perhaps not as numerous as their enemy's horde yet, but his was a far better one in his own view when it came to warrior against warrior. Or they'd find out if that weren't the case pretty soon he expected as his fellow chieftain gripped his wrist in greeting in a mirror of his own grip.

"After our great victory Zahgorim, even the damned whelps wanted to come to war with us! It was even almost a fight to just bring those we chose!" Jernak said and grinned back before greeting High Shaman Phargk of the Night-Tombs with a respectful half-bow and fist to heart as the older orc approached. "Holy One, greetings and honours to you."

"An' ta you young Warchiefs, with much more to be taken in the coming season one would hope eh?" Echoed back the old and powerful shaman of the One Eye, seeming slightly amused as he gazed past them at the army mustering below. The Moonblades had arrived with several hundred new fresh warriors alongside the veterans who'd helped them storm the Warlord Wyrmog's hold: it seemed to him they had brought near the full muster of their clan beyond a garrison force. Alongside them came a force of Hobgoblin mercenaries and conquered goblins. The goblins he'd seen looked to be males and females pressed into service alongside a few humans and bugbears... and at best fodder compared to the almost warriors the Spartan vassal creatures had been beaten into. Perhaps with time something similar could be done with this lot. Whatever the case Jernak seemed enthusiastic as he spoke of them as they turned to follow the old shaman's surveying gaze.

"Yes one would wish it so Holy One, eager to spill blood and earn glory like any warrior should. Though right now I think that they merely wish to drink and eat and fuck before marching to war once again!"

Zahgorim snorted in amusement. "Don't we all! But they won't have long: even as we speak the ground firms up and is filling with fresh growth as Greengrass grows near. We need to move soon and begin reducing the holds and villages of those loyal to Warlord Wyrmog before he can assemble a fresh host. Once word reaches the other clans of his weakness some might be less willing to stand firm at his side when he marches against us."

They needed to both weaken Wyrmog's allies and draw him out to battle on their terms, goals which would like take the Warlord several ten-days. Another need was to strike at the fringes of the Uthgardter humans of the Pony tribe and remind them of the warnings given to their handful of surviving beaten warriors before being allowed to return. Having to fight them as well as Wyrmog's Fire Giants would be a somewhat problematic situation, while having a few more villages like those in this valley would help bolster the stores needed to supply an expanding horde. He almost wanted to sigh at that: Gods he was starting to sound like Oggy and Karg thinking about feeding warriors and the like rather than the thrill and glory of the battlefield!

"Where are we to strike first then? Have the Red Axes and their Chief given any sign of their true allegiance as yet?"

The old Shaman snorted "No, that' youngin's a wily one. Is he not, Chief Zahgorim?"

Zahgorim nodded and made a face of minor irritation. Something quite common when it came to the Red Axes words and actions. "Aye Holy One, they've pulled back from their settlement to an old fort northward of where they'd been camped. We think they took it from some humans, or so their messengers hint at, but for all their protestations of being allies in battles to come they have pulled back to a new holdfast. Who knows which way Kurnak will fall... Even if he is to lose some family by betraying us again."

"Heh. Indeed Chief Zahgorim, Kurnak wishes to see who is the stronger and is leanin' towards our host. But he likely seeks to get the best advantage when he does decide who to support. He's pulled back to an easier to defend place with more food stores to let us all fight it out before stepping in... That's somewhat cowardly and I expect that the One Eye would not approve." Sneered the ancient Shaman before sighing in irritation. "But best not to tempt him to join our foes for fear just yet. Once this half-breed upstart is crushed we can worry about putting the coward in his place in our alliance."

'Karg'd be happy about that anyway... At least he would as soon as he doesn't have to deal with a grumpy Oggy.' Mused Zahgorim to himself. He watched as a few squads clashed in training below them like two bands of ants. Karg hated oathbreakers with a murderous rage for some reason, even if he was distracted by Oggy right now. His own Breyza and human slave Marya were once again with whelp, and with all the fertility blessings and magic he had insisted upon during this journey he would have both Sylfine and his new slave of Wyrmog's kin join them. He smiled at that; placing the half-elf over the chained Wrytha as a slave handler of sorts had both humbled his new concubine and given his half-elf a reward for obedience. All in all he thought she had proven rather effective in applying punishments when demanded. Still... cursed elven blood evidently made her hard to get to bear his young, though he and Breyza hoped that that was something that magic would overcome in time.

"Aye, can't be letting a coward and trickster like that be gettin' all the loot after riskin' nothing for to gain any of it. That's cause bad feelings among our warriors if we did that and they get little in exchange..." Jernak agreed after humming in thought "...so what have you decided upon? To strike in that direction, or northward?"

"North young Chief, or north an' east. In part to strike at those who side with the Heathen Upstart and his kin there afore they are ready, but also to bring all others who live there under our domination as Zahgorim ere' and me apprentice and his young shaman wish to do."

Jernak grinned. "Heh, as we all wish too I think Holy One. They shall serve Illusk either as our vassals or as our slaves, and I look forward to conquering or driving off those Uthgardht and ending their constant attacks our folk for these lands. At times they even think they are orcs! But they cannot out-orc true orcs like ourselves now can they? We warned them and they had best deliver our tribute or pay the price of their actions till now. Fuckin demon-lovers can get what they deserve I say!"

Zahgorim could agree with the sentiment, but it was best to be careful as a foe could be most dangerous when cornered like any prey that grew desperate. "Aye, but best we focus on crushin' the outer bands and groups first and then strike at the Blood Mists and destroy that stronghold of theirs after hittin' the nearby bands. Far enough to lay siege to and draw Wyrmog to us, but close enough we can return either our strongholds quickly if he threatens them."

Karg and Old Breyjuk should be able to hold off any assault with the forces they'd be keeping here in the valley proper between their clan warriors, human and goblin vassals and other odds and ends to be trained by the other clans. The 'Illuskan Legion' as the old shaman and Karg called it. His friend was mostly annoyed by the fact that Zahgorim got to take all his new toys and play with them on the battlefield while he got stuck minding the females and whelps and running the valley. Silly complaints really as Karg just loved all that sort of boring stuff while he preferred training and leading his warriors to war. That and the sooner they crushed Wyrmog the easier building a Kingdom would be. The Warlord had been humbled and lost his stronghold and much of his treasures, but given time he would rebuild it by his alliances of blood and his natural strength. Less and less if the Illuskan star rose high in the skies but enough that any conquest would be long and bloody as long as he lived and served to rally support. The blessings of the Gods granted them great strength and authority, but it meant that many of the larger clans would fight on rather than accept the ways of this new Horde they were building. Plus soon their enemies in the human city would send more of their servants and demons against them and they would need strength for that.

Alive Wyrmog would serve to rally different clans of both orcs and fire giants, but dead few if any of them would be able to work together as one whole. Just like when he was hunting a weak pack would fall apart and the stronger would remain fearful of you if you killed it's Alpha. The ancient shaman had agreed with such thinking even if he was less inclined than Zahgorim's own clan to accept these New Ways. But that was obvious to him and the Old One was simply that... Old, and now unlikely to want to change his thinking with so few years left in this world. Still the old shaman wanted the glory and legacy so as Zahgorim had seen so far, he adapted to make it work and take charge. It was why this alliance worked: all three bigs had similar goals but different strengths and desires on getting to that goal.

"Yes, now that those human wizards have left and their focus upon us is no longer hostile we have a region where we can learn of things those fools of the heathen cannot, and maybe point their fury upon our foes as well..." the eldest of them mused. "We can march forth in strength while the youngin' keeps his... guests... content and hateful of our foes. Better him than me I say, heh heh heh..."

--

[Interlude 04]

--

[Hungry in the Hills]

Sidr found that the small cave provided good shelter as he carefully stoked the fire as cold dark night once again descended over the Crags. At least they'd made it through the harsher parts of the winter and early spring he supposed while blowing into the kindling to stoke the weak and flickering flame before him. One of the few things going in their favour after fleeing the Tribe in the middle of the night with the others all those ten-days ago.

Not much else had gone their way since then. Their numbers had dwindled from just under a dozen to their mere five, and of them all only himself was anything close to a hunter and warrior. And he could admit to himself that in truth he had only just come of age despite killing that oaf Thell with his slightly older friend Sgeik when the older warrior had tried to rape Vaey. A luck blow amidst the confusion was all it was, and Sgeik had still died in the aftermath along with Thell. It was almost too much to bear, especially for Vaey of all people...

He sighed in relief as the fire finally flared up and crackled softly before him, bathing the cave in soft orange light and heat as shadows danced upon the walls. Soon it would be good enough to cook their meagre haul of food for the evening: a rabbit, a squirrel and a bowl of nuts and berries. that was all they had to feed two children of five and seven summers, and three adults of the tribe that had less than forty summers between then all together. To feed the sisters Vaey, Vol and younger Istre along with himself and Sgeik's young brother Ghind with nothing but such meagre fare... And all in all this had been one of the better days since they had actually manage to get anything to eat.

"What are we to do Sidr? We can't stay here much longer... There isn't..." his friend Vol whispered miserably, arms wrapped around her skinny frame. The two youngest were asleep, curled up together for warmth, and it was best to talk now. He sat down at the fire again and pulled out his skinning knife as he interrupted her stuttering sentence with what he hoped was an encouraging tone.

"I know Vol, I know... Game here is sparse and if we stay any longer someone or something may notice our camp here. We'll leave soon... It's just; ah. Where to go next Vol? We've..."

Vaey looked at him, huddling up against her sister. She'd been nice to him since the events of that night, and he had to say that it was rather creepy. It was just weird not having to face her disapproval and their rows, and yet again her tone was meek as she spoke to him. "We can't go back or let them catch us Sidr, or it'll be the pyre for all of us like the others. May... Maybe... We should risk one of the weakl-town-folks places? We have some gems... It's just..."

She looked away. Sidr found he did not like this Vaey with her tones of helpless despair even over the bitch who'd broken his nose when he was seven summers old for talking to her sister. He sighed, but still. She was right. Since the coming of the Mad Chief's Daughter and her Sun worshipers the world had gotten ever darker, even after the crushing of the tribe's warriors by those damned orcs.

Fools the Tribe were - they should have handed that bitch over to the orcs before her warriors had come and the madness had begun. "Aye Vaey, maybe... Yes, it's best we try for one of the folk's places and trade what we have for food. Shiny rocks do not a belly fill as mother said..." He looked at his skinning knife tiredly. "But first let's eat what we can and then take turns at standing watch."

Even keeping the fire going without giving their position away was hard enough for them. A day or two of rain and they wouldn't even be able to keep warm or cook their meagre food. Not that there were any good choices available right now. He'd even considered trying for the Griffon Tribe or one of the villages in the valley the orcs had subjugated. He'd seen humans in the ranks of their horde, well fed and armoured warriors at that. If those weaklings could win a place then maybe he could too for him and the others as his women...

...Or they could get thrown into the cook-pot or enslaved. Just as he could easily be killed at the gates of the settlement-folk and the others taken as whores as he'd heard happen many a time. True folk were just human orcs to those settled-folk after all. Especially with Vol and her future as a Warlock: the Sun-lovers had really wanted to kill her for that. It was why they'd hidden her away from the start.

'No good choices really, but we need to move regardless' he thought tiredly. They'd speak of it more after they had something in their rumbling bellies...

--

[Feasting in the Redoubt]

"Kurnak! Kurnak! Kurnak! Kurnak!" The clan's warriors chanted as their chieftain proclaimed the beginning of the victory feasting. Orok was amongst them, raising his war-axe alongside his brother warriors in cheering the strength and wisdom of their chieftain. The larders were full and they had a new stronghold from which to raid from, that they had won by their own strength of arms against foes whose corpses now decorated the walls of the place. And best of all: while the other clans fought among themselves the Red Axes gathered their strength to join whichever side honoured and acknowledged their claims.

"Huwaghhh!" One last unintelligible roar thundered through the cavern as their overlord raised his arms high and motioned for the lot of them to quiet down. Orok had once thought Kuthvar's whelp too scrawny and lean to be a real warrior, let alone a true war-chief. Yet just as he had while a whelp, with sly words and slashing blades he'd crushed all who'd challenged him no matter their brawn or bulk.

"Right you lot! I promised you food! I promised you strength! I promised you females! HAVE I NOT GIVEN YOU THESE THINGS?"

Orok and hundreds of others roared approvingly once again. They'd managed to secure great loot on their great raiding before the coming of winter;,shattering the human horde before them like they were nothing and falling upon the lands beyond like howling blizzard. They'd even managed to avoid most of the clash between the Warlord and Old Shaman on the so-called Field of Blood without many losses, or truly having to take a side. After all there were too many clans with potential blood feuds with them on the Warlord's side, and that ancient bastard Phargk of the Blood Moon Ritual was too demanding in his ways for the clan, with the only ones being possible allies were the Spartan and Moonblade clans.

Sadly they were on the other side of Warlord Wyrmog's banners, but a crippling blow dealt to him over the winter season had shown that their chief's refusal to be sworn outright to either side was the sign of a strong and wise war-chief. One who also knew when to shut up as the great roasts of boar and rothe were brought forward by slave females of various captured races. The smell of meat was glorious in his nostrils, and thankfully as one of the veteran warriors of the clan he got first claim on a haunch and tore it free from the massive skewer held by the four slaves. He found it tasted just as good as it smelled.

"Bunch of the whelps are whinin' about the ways they've been made fight!" Drok laughed to him and the others as he cut free a slab of meat of his own and bit into it. "...'unch ah 'okin 'ussies, lot'em!"

Orok laughed. "Hope you gave 'em a good beatin' Drok!"

Chief Kurnak had made them learn everything they could from the Moonblade and Spartan clan's warriors when they had been together, and all could see that these ways only made the clan stronger. Well anyone still alive anyway as those who challenged them too loudly got an axe to the head right quick. Stupid whelps got a bit of a chance to learn: they got a few punches to the head to learn'em before they got the axe.

Much like you, Thuhjk got a wallop to the back of the head as he grabbed one of the young female slaves from the line by the hair and accidentally drew blood by pulling her forward and slashing his cutting knife off her arm. Painful enough to raise a brief wail from her 'till the human brought hand over her mouth to cut if off before she'd be punished. Orok glared at the idiot as Drok gave him a follow up kick for good measure. Young whelp thought himself a warrior and he was already screwing up as Orok snarled at him. Gods above couldn't the drunken idiot pull this shit away from the eyes of the Chief?

"Didn't ye listen to the chief ye fuckin moron? Don't be cuttin' up the fuckin' slaves unless ye want to join 'em diggin' up the fuckin fields!" Laughter followed as it appeared the young idiot took one look up before collapsing unconscious from the booze and the blow. Fucking weakling whelps nowadays. All bloody mollycoddled, the lot of'em. Weren't like that in his day!

Chief Kurnak had put the 'valuable' slaves to hard work serving the clan since about a year ago. One of the first things he'd done when coming here been making them begin to dig fields to plant crops and pen animals. Orok found it weird to have to feed them like Kurnak said, but the Chief was a wilier and smarter orc than he so what he said went. At least the slaves were more appealing when they weren't skinny almost skeletons in his opinion, so he carefully grabbed the young human and brought her over to him to tug off the rags covering her flesh. Bit short for his likin' but this was a smart one in keepin' quiet with the wound. He tore off a strip of her rags as she trembled at the other's bellowing laughter. Chief would be impressed at him takin' charge like this he figured, and he'd get both food and a bedwarmer out of it as well. He leaned over the female.

"Right little female, let Orok bind yer' wound and then ye can thank yer hero right 'n proper." Evidently she didn't speak a proper tongue much yet but her eyes and frantic nodding showed that she understood. The others laughed and began to divide up the other slaves between them. To their amusement, the young idiot snored his way through the whole thing.

--

[Bedding down in the Pens]

She sat and rubbed her aching feet, glad of the fact she was alone for once in the pen and not having to fight for space or food. It was a small reward to be sure, to just rest alone, but one hard fought for and earned amongst the field slaves here in the orc fortress like her. Still, they'd left the shackles on her wrists, ankles, and neck as usual so it wasn't exactly the greatest improvement as she sat in the darkness wincing as one particularly painful clump of muscle on her right foot twinged. They'd been driven hard these past few days, she herself having spent most of them working on these new walls for the orcs, doing everything from moving lumber to making mud bricks.

She preferred making the mud bricks even if it left her caked in mud from neck to toes as at least she didn't have to suffer splinters and cuts from cutting and moving wood anymore. Sadly today she'd been woodworking and familiar scrapes and bruises covered her currently bare skin. It itched to no end, but at least it wasn't bleeding she admitted to herself moving unto rubbing her legs.

Staying fit and healthy was vital to her long-term survival prospects she'd found from experience, and as a slave it was true more than ever. She'd owned one of her own once upon a time and he'd managed to live for several years till she sold him because of that... He'd even escaped after that she'd heard, so perhaps it was something she could pull off as well. Or find another means to get out of her current status.

"You, Bosses want you. Come!" A big orc woman demanded as the creaking cell door opened and the former mercenary Cirla Kag slid to her knees, forehead pressed to the straw-covered floor in subservient greeting. She placed her hands behind her back and allowed the shackles to be chained without resistance, before she got to her feet and allowed the overseer woman to bring her out of the cell led by a chain leash. All the slaves had learned really quickly that causing trouble or fighting back got you a rather severe punishment and Cirla considered herself a fast learner, especially considering the fact that these orcs hadn't liked her and her compatriots from the start. Not surprising really: no one liked mercs who worked for slavers carrying demon sacrifices and didn't ask questions despite the horrors of such, much to her regret.

She wasn't overly fearful this time at least as she was made to wait and another slave, then another and another, were bound behind her by a chain leading neck to neck. So she stayed silent and looked straight ahead until ordered to follow along behind the overseer and her guards through the darkness of the underkeep. Orcs passed them by without showing any interest in them, and she ignored the ache of her bare feet moving over the cold stonework as they ascended up into the faint light of the stronghold after several hundred steps.

Outside was the familiar sight of orc warriors training with shields and weapons, and the patter of cold rain landing on her naked body that she tried to ignore. Thankfully they were swiftly led inside the Keep and dried off before eventually being brought to some more orcs, a few of which she recognised as the Shaman of this clan, the old war-chief and several higher up warriors. That did make her a little nervous. As she waited she and the other three who she could now see (another of her fellows, Shua La, along with an Uthgardht woman and some man of unknown origin) were lined up. The terrifying orc Shaman strode up to her in his armour and glared down at her.

"You know why you're here?" Great, he just had to pick on her didn't he?

"They did not say Glorious Master but I could guess that it is about swearing my sword arm to the service of your clan for as long as you desire," she answered looking at her feet and keeping any hint of fear or excitement from her voice. After all this time in chains getting back to wielding blade and maybe earning her freedom in the years to come like the wizard Missy this particular orc here had captured before her own enslavement.

It might even give her some small chance of escape, though she expected magical means to force her to remain obedient would be used here considering all the, well... wizards they seemed to have around here. She'd seen the Host Tower do so occasionally in the past with some of the less trustworthy adventuring bands. After all she wasn't going to get anywhere as a bed-slave like some of the others, and she had no useful skills like blacksmithing or tailoring that got her out of the fields. Just like always, she was the ugly muscled girl with nasty scar on her face that made her look even worse that nobody wanted.

"Yes it is. You have been obedient and your overseers agree that you may serve another use than planting crops and building walls. Though many beaten and enslaved warriors have joined our ranks they were all orcs. You are not but you can earn a place here in coming years. You will all be tested by Captain Cardac here to judge your worth. But first you must know that this isn't an easier way to try escape. Your loyalty to us will be marked by a facial tattoo, and ensured by means of blood oaths and a geas. If you betray us you shall die, and die horribly. Serve and you shall earn a place by blood and sweat, assuming you are strong enough and survive. This clan has no need of weaklings, whether they are orcs or humans such as you. Now, do you..."

--

[Lua'kah'wyss 10]

Lower Slopes, Stronghold of Sparta

Summer was growing near she thought as she stepped out from her home in the tower into the courtyard under the bright orange-red sky above. It was a nice evening she found, not too warm nor too cold, and best of all no rain either as her booted strode over the dry stone cobbles of the courtyard. She hated training in the rain, one of aspects of living upon the surface world that she wasn't overly found of, like the cold blizzards of winter and nasty glares that had dogged much of her journey. Even here occasionally of course, but less so than amongst the rivvil owing to the position of friend Karg and perhaps because she had proven her own strength in battle at his, their, side.

Strange that she found as the guards at the gate saluted and allowed her to pass alongside her little tu'rithiir Tris, the rivvil Rose, and poor Drisslara'ust, or Lara most of the time now. It was sad that one of her kind almost cringed upon hearing her own name after her ordeal despite everything they could do to aid her. Perhaps in time she'd manage something to heal those invisible wounds.The view of the valley as she walked down the slope was beautiful as always as she listened to Tris and Rose chat away about friend Karg's new little daughter Ogkra and the other children.

With Ogrash recovering from the childbirth, and Ghorza handling some of friend Karg's duties for the day, Rose's would be joining them for some training...and to just relax upon a day off her duties. The rivvil jalil was such a hard little worker that she deserved a break in Lua'kah'wyss's opinion; especially after her aiding in the birthing of young Ogkra a few nights ago. Between that, and the army leaving for war, these had been unusual hectic days for everyone in the 'household' all-in-all. She smiled to herself as a mini horde of children, orc and half-orc, played amongst themselves at the foot of the slopes as they walked into the 'town' area after a rather pleasant stroll there.

A few stopped and stared at her, at all of them honestly, as they passed but the symbols on her surcoat and the fact they were armed meant it wasn't more than a passing glance in truth. Even the females watching the 'whelps' as the called them barely passed that a few nods or glances as they passed, one of the younger even gave Rose a half-wave, half-salute, that was returned by the flame haired rivvil. Of all of them it was young Rose who got the most respect...nay fear...from the orcs of the clan; then again beneath that cheerful and innocent smile the girl was a rather ruthless melee fighter. The 'nutcracker' or 'knee-capper' as Lua'kah'wyss as had heard a few of the clan or auxlia refer to her during training; jalil certainly packed a punch thanks to friend Karg's help as she had learned herself in a few practice sessions.

"An orc you know?" she asked glancing back at Rose who nodded.

"Oh she's one of Lady Ogrash's acolytes; she'll be leading one of the squads from the village so we've talked a few times is all...well sparred as well...but she seems decent enough best I can tell"

"Any of your villagers complain about fighting with orc jalil instead of the veteran warriors they fought and trained were with in these past seasons?"

"Not so much them than their wives I'd guess when they find out" Rose replied with a snort of amusement as Tris chuckled knowingly. Lua'kah'wyss smiled at that, it wasn't likely to be a common problem but could easily happen; some few had looked lustfully upon even her after all but had known to stay clear considering her position and skill with a blade. Once they had fought together in the fighting against the Warlord's orcs and Uthgardt humans that had stopped most entirely; her squad had been good folk in her opinion and hopefully they'd get back to training together in the next few days. Be good to place against someone different for a change after all.

It was quiet enough unsurprisingly with the vast throng that had camped just beyond the walls now departed, but at least that outer palisade was finished she noted as they passed a few construction crews working on a bridge between some rock ledges. Even in the short time she'd been here the settlement here had grown dramatically to that of a large surface town as they passed several recently finished, or almost finished, buildings near to the 'market' area. One of which was their current destination as some bored looking guards in the 'market square' approached them as they came into view, the squad leader giving a fist to heart salute as they approached as the others watched. If she had to guess their guard shift was coming to an end in short, and the markets were fairly quiet right now beyond a few goblins buying or selling something from a human trader.

"Greetings, here to look at building right? Shaman wanting check on if it nearly finish?"

Lua'kah'wyss nodded and took a relaxed position opposite them, "Aye, just want to have a quick look around before we head for other things for the bosses"

"Arite, head on in then..." the young orc with the small officer insignia on his armour answered in orcish, then nodding off behind them "...we're finished now anyway, so we'll tell that lot yer not tryin' steal the nothin' that's in there"

A glance behind her confirmed that another squad was marching towards the square and that her guess had been corrected and the tired looking orcs strolled off towards the newcomers. Still she and the others walked up to the decent sized wooden building just off to the right of the 'market square' and pushed open the doors to enter into the gloomy interior. It even had the smell of fresh wood in the air so strong that she wrinkled her nose at it and the daub covering it.

"Pretty cool huh? It's near as big as the tavern is" Tris muttered looking around as did the others at the new 'Adventurers Guild' that had been built here in the town. It was a relatively large building, two stories high with a nice wide open space here in the centre and then smaller rooms around it with a wooden stairs up to a second floor. Crude work she saw, but strong and solidly built, so it was pretty impressive for orcs and slave labour after a few hard days work. She tapped her boots off the hard stone floor beneath them, more of this 'concrete' the orcs had come up with to bind a load of boulders and flattened stones together in a decently flat surface; not exactly a beautiful floor but nice in its own way she supposed.

"Yeah it is isn't it? Didn't think it was going to be this large at all in all honesty" she agreed as they strolled around and studied the 'main hall' and the dark wood it was made of. There was no furniture or equipment in it so it had a wide open feeling that her mind was already trying to pick out things to fit into it. Drisslara'Ust hovered behind her eyes on the floor while Tris was poking her head around a doorway to peeking inside as Rose grinned at Lua'kah'wyss.

"Hey there's even a small basement...and it'll all be yours to manage Lua! Won't that be fun?"

"Ugh!" she managed to grunt out in reply. When the whole thing had been discussed it had all seemed so distant, an exercise of the mind, but now having it brought up reminded her that she'd agreed to help organise and run this new 'Guild' for friend Karg and the rest of the household. Now that she was reminded of that fact her mind started to draw a blank as even Tris giggled alongside Rose at her evidently stunned expression; pouting she waved her hands at both of them.

"Fine, Fine! Come'on let's explore some more and then off to the tavern so we can get something to eat and Tris can sing away" she huffed at them as to her side Drisslara'Ust remained sadly docile and awaiting orders like always. Maybe starting some martial training might help like some of the others had suggested might be the best approach to restore some tiny sliver of confidence to her?

Outside the back was a small open space with a wall to the side and backed up against the rock-wall of the slope, an area that she guessed could be used as a practice yard. She sighed to herself. It would certainly be an adventure to try to do such a thing, especially considering the only current 'adventurers' within this place other than those she come with were a bunch of rather smelly and scary looking gnolls currently out hunting for some animal pelts at friend Karg's instruction. Then again there were some younger orcs that had been suggested to be trained up in this sort of career rather than for the 'Legion' as friend Karg called it, along with some of the females and other non-orcs such as the goblins and kobolds. It all seemed somewhat mad to her but she had prayed for the Goddess to grant her a chance to make a different in the world...and here it was and she had no idea what to do next...

--

[Zahgorim 18]

Illuskan war-camp in the Crags

"Another ambush?" he asked of the returning scout leader whose garb gave indications of blood splatter and the other after effects of battle. That plus the weary look upon the squad leader's tusked face as be saluted fist to heart to Zahgorim and the other war-leaders of the Illuskan war host before him hinted at it further. The nod as the warrior, one of the Moonblades younger ones he saw, confirmed that as the truth even before the answer came from his mouth.

"Yes War-Chief, we were attacked as we scouted forward along the east tree-line and ridges, three hands worth of warriors caught us with arrows and throwing axes and we skirmished for a bit before breaking off like we were told"

Zahgorim sighed, glancing back at the Ancient One questioningly, who hummed in thought a moment before he spoke in the dark harsh whispery voice of his "Losses? What did you see in regards trails and clan sigils?"

Their march towards the Blood Mist's stronghold had begun encountering constant attacks upon their scouts for the past few days. Not a surprise in a way, they were nearing their foes territory and like with his own clan's land a force this size would be hard to miss by patrols and scouting parties. What had been a surprise to him, and the Old Shaman Phargk of the Night-tombs as well, was the extent and ferocity of the attacks upon their scouting parties this far out from said territory. That meant there was a large body of enemy warriors lurking nearby, potentially a large warhost, that would have to be dealt with before they could push forward to their foes den. Considering that was the case the next words of the scout leader weren't all that surprising to Zahgorim as he listened to the reply.

"Lost four of ours killed Holy One, and three more wounded that were healed. We killed a few of the enemy warriors, somewhere between a half-dozen an' maybe a-dozen Boss in the fight I'd say, but hard to say fer sure since was mostly was skirmishin' before we pulled back. But can say they weren't Blood Mists Holy One, Warchiefs, Skull-Fangs or Ice-Fangs me and the boys reckon Sirs, coulda been both either as we saw signs of lot of movement further north-east before they hit us"

Zahgorim frowned in thought "Signs of riding beasts or giants and the like?"

"Might have been some mountain horses or a rothe here or there from the signs but all the tracks are orc or maybe a few gobbies or hobs. No sign of nuffin bigger than that, not a bugbear or giant pretty sure"

"Nothing else you or your boyos saw? Even small things?"

The Moonblade shrugged at his query "Nuffin much else War-Chief, signs of hunting parties pulling back in a hurry recently maybe judging from some of the half skinned deer and wolves we and the other squads have come across"

Chief Shaman Phargk nodded and cleared his throat and motioning that eerie black staff at the squad leader and a faith thrum of light emerging from it "Good, you have served well young warrior, as have your comrades. Now go get fed and rested and prepare for the fightin' to come. The Gods grant you their blessing youngin' so see to your comrades"

Karg didn't, in general, do such things without mentioning what he was intending so the now nervous warrior endured the faint light that surrounded him, before relaxing at the words of the Ancient One. Then again Shaman Phargk was a powerful old bastard and likely did such things to intimate the ranks of warriors from a long life of experiences. Personally Zahgorim preferred the option of explaining but stayed silent as the scout saluted again and withdrew from them past the guards and into the camp proper. It was a strong position he'd managed to convince the others to take up here on the slopes with the war-wagons and stakes forming a solid wall at the base.

From here they could advance up two routes towards the Blood Mists tower, and at the same time prevent any large war-bands slipping around behind them unnoticed by the view from the slopes they now stood on. Well as far as the hilly and broken ground with all its trees allowed as he turned to gaze out over the dull overcast distance; it'd be night soon and that would mean more activity from their enemy after such a day without much strong sunlight. Chief Jernak who'd been silent through the exchange sat back down on the rocks nearby and spoke to them in a tired voice of being the one on guard duty for most of the day, while Zahgorim himself had been only awake for a few hours as yet.

"So two or three clans most likely facing us?"

The Ancient One coughed a few times for moment as if to clear his throat, then seemed to hum to himself before answering "Skull-Fang are mated to some few siblings or whelps of The Heretic and allies of the Bearclaws, and the Ice-Fang are related to the Skull-Fang by bonds of their own. Perhaps they have arrived to combine with the Blood Mists and ready to move against us, but I would have expected the Night-Wind and Howling-Peak clans to be here as they are allied by blood or servitude to the Blood Mists war-chief"

Zahgorim looked out at the misty gloom stretching out below them off past the camp "Assuming they have the full muster of those clans Holy One, how would they compare to our numbers"

"Hnnn...hnnnn...it would be hard to say, close to our horde but could easily be lesser or greater dependin' on their dead in raids, or other clans joining or staying away. It would be why our warriors scoutin' forward are gettin' attacked so hard and in such number don't it youngins?"

Zahgorim nodded "Aye Holy One, iff'in there is a decent sized war-host ahead then they'll be tempted to strike soon, that or they'll be waitin' to ambush us when we advance. It may be time to start explorin' forward with magic and other blessings of the Gods Holy One?"

"Indeed youngin' it might indeed, what do you wish to do if there is a large host of our foes before us?"

Mini-Oggy of course had advice for the "Attack! Attack! Kill them all and cut their balls off!"

...while his other tiny invisible advisor rolled his eyes "If you've the advantage attack and crush them, if they have lure them into a trap and set them on fire"

The ground wasn't ideal here for cavalry or other beast riders, so their hobgoblin mercenaries wouldn't be very useful, and neither would Karg's new magic wagon-things unless in an assault or had plenty of time to navigate them on the broken terrain. And till they knew what they were up against, and where they were, it would be a bad idea to just rush forward when their scouts were being held back. In a perfect world their magic users could locate their foes and give an idea of their numbers, and in a less ideal one they'd manage an idea of both and his scouts could figure out the rest.

While he could admit his blood was up at the thought of a fight...the fact was if these clans had assembled a fighting host; shattering them before they could link up with the main host under Warlord Wyrmog and become far harder to fight. Right now he was confident that the warriors of his Sparta clan, and the Moonblades, were better one-on-one that their foes, and attacking, and as such forcing battle, would be preferable to constant ambush/skirmishes and them falling back behind their defences. Of course that meant...

He folded his arms across his armoured chest, then nodded more to himself than the old Shaman who was the overall commander of the Horde "Attack as long as we hold equal or greater numbers, with our warriors discipline, our magic from the Gods and the 'field artillery' as Karg calls them we have the strength to break them utterly. Course we can't afford just step into a trap if there's more them than we think...then we can try lure them here. Good ground here, good for killin' any try come at us anyway. If they know I've got my concubine here they'll likely want to get her back to win her back and get glory and favour from Warlord Wyrmog"

Something he'd learned against his friend. Karg wasn't exactly a warlord born but he was deadly dangerous when fighting on the defence, and/or you gave him time to prepare. Personally Zahgorim preferred to attack, shock troops and manoeuvring to shatter any resistance; but he could do either attack or defend if the situation called for it. Especially when he had something they'd want badly...which had been one of the reasons for bringing her with them in chains. Decent enough under the furs too, but he preferred is half-elf Sylfine for that, so if he could figure out how to let the other side know what he had...

Chief Jernak seemed to agree Zahgorim noted as the others voice followed on after a yawn "Seeing how hard their attacking our scouts, and if they are as strong as we're thinking, they might try for an attack if they don't know how many of us there are?"

"Perhaps, youngins, perhaps...hnnn...I shall gather others and we shall scry, and use familiars, to scout forward as best can be done...ah, and we should display some of our captured banners of the Heretic and try incite their anger if they're seen"

--

When: Early Summer, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Overlook, Lower Slopes of Sparta

It's a nice night at the moment so break time in my view, so having a nice little sit down here on the overlook above our construction efforts since the winter. That and the Tower, well our apartment part of it, is a little hectic and noisy at the moment as Oggy reorganises things, and also expands living space with little Ogrka's birth. Less for now than when she and my other two little dears start to grow and need bedding space as when they're awake, the children of the clan tend to play and be raised together after all as little Kargash is already doing of late.

Oggy wants to increase the guards dedicated to the Cave Mother and I agree, as does Old Breyjuk and Breyza, as its best to increase the defenders around the children now that we're experiencing something of a baby boom. Well that and the fact the numbers of our older children, well males, is finally starting to hit a bulk increase in our warriors in the coming seasons so we can actually afford to do it I suppose. After all Luthic is the second patron of the clan so best to increase the prestige and power of Oggy as High Priestess with more guards for her to command over the paltry few so far.

Anyway moving away from that the construction below seems to have gone well now that I've had a chance to go around the 'town' and check up on everything properly. New outer walls also proved a useful training method for teaching the better of my acolytes some basic ritual warding skills, from both myself and Doctor Ned, with a little stone carve thrown in. Nothing exciting or complicated of course but the wall now fully encompasses the lower approaches to the stronghold over where we fought our first attackers. I've even managed to picket stone ward stones along the length; mostly magic blocks and holy ground types that'll at least irritate any of the previous magic foes sent against us.

Like many things I do it was crude, mass-produced relative to standard wardings, but effectively hopefully due to be part of a larger whole, or just by being deployed in numbers. With that done I had earthen ramps raised up behind the walls; in part to cover the ward-stones, but mostly to buttress the walls themselves and offer a platform to shoot down from. Truth be told I'm still somewhat amazed how fast you can build things like the town's structures and said outer wall, especially if one has aload of warriors available and aren't worried about the looks aspect. Now I've lost the majority of the warriors to Zah's and Darth Phargk's expedition but I've still got a small skilled pool available in our human and kobold vassals plus all my clan-orcs coming of age as recruits.

Well them and those left by the Moonblade, Night-tombs and our other 'allied' Illuskan clans in need of training. So with that and the slaves we've erected the outer defences and finished the 'farm' terraces in time to allow planting of various berries, fruit trees, and whatever other wild crops we could find. Slightly sacrilegious in regards the One Eye and the Brute I admit, but in my defence we are the Theocracy's rulers and have the permission of the Gods themselves in the matter. Hurray, because I like walls and general defences to let me create killing grounds for our foes to throw themselves at.

On that note of course the next stage for the outer wall is to get some of our remaining ballistae and catapults up on the walls and heights to create said kill-zones just like up on the Keep. If you're going to do it, you might as well do it right I think.Away from the military side, the 'market square' is starting to take shape as the main buildings have been finished directly around it. Lua, Tris and Rose getting to visit the two story building I'm calling the 'Adventurers Guild' as it was finished, and Lua seemingly a little freaked out she agreed to take charge of the thing under my authority. Right now that involves playing middle-drow between me and some very poor Gnolls looking for as much work as possible.

Giving them a decent halberd for those pelts might have been *too* good at keeping them happy and peaceable as now they're eager for more work and intent on hovering around the stronghold for it. So they and a few more...independent minded...of my clan-orcs are likely to be her first 'guild-members' alongside a few more desperate ones from the vassals; whether human, goblin or kobold in origin. Few of Oggy's more adventurous ones most likely, or a few of those not taking well to discipline in the Legion, but not severely enough to be killed off by the trainers.

After all they'd end up not getting the wages and prestige of being a warrior and having to struggle to get the food and such the rest of the clan gets. Adventurers in reality don't generally live well, baring they earn the ranks of course, so they'll worker harder for less I expect when they become 'heroes' in practicality. On the bright side of all that is the fact a nascent market economy *encourages* such a work ethic when you need coins to afford to eat and drink. So I don't have to stand over everyone with a big threatening sword and a whip to make them do things...and accumulate a vast horde of shiny, but practically useless, valuable metals and gems like every dungeon ever. Better they spend it and then we tax like in the so-called civilized lands of the humans and dwarves. Elves too maybe, but they could live a market economy of hating orcs, being smug, and tree hugging for all I know.

In furtherance of that objective we've begun minting coins, or more accurately I've got our blacksmiths to get our newly trained apprentices to get out the hammer, work the smelter and moulds we've created and turn our bars and such into coinage. From my past life I recall it being a very useful way of defining legitimacy, and I think being the mint for the Illuskan Kingdom would be very useful indeed. Nobody's complaining about it after all...so time and shiny metal to burn, coins to make. Gold, Silver, and Copper ones; with a few Platinum ones to be thrown in down the line maybe once they get fully competent at churning them out.

For the Gold ones I've opted for the sign of Ilneval, the sword symbol of Foe Smiter on one side and a harp on the other. While for the Silver ones the harp of Illusk and the orcish rune for Luthic, Home, upon the other. The Coppers...I wasn't sure of at first, but I went for a rose symbol stamped upon it; blame my red headed apprentice and my indirect urge to honour her goddess. Can't exactly put her up there with our patron deities but I figure showing a little respect for an agricultural goddess can't hurt with the harvests. I've having all the coins blessed as well, or the Gold and Silvers anyway by either mine or Oggy's acolytes on our respective Gods-Coins in the hope they'll be seen as 'lucky' or 'blessed' coins. Which they technically would be even if the blessings would be pretty miniscule and covering the great and glorious buffs of Wisdom and Fertility on them respectively.

Following on from that, and returning to market buildings from my tangent, those coins now have better places to be spent in the new lower slope area. Most obviously the very much expanded tavern under that kobold Menkin that is now finished construction and opening once again for business shortly. Three stories and a basement built into the rock-face of the slopes and larger in size on any of said floors than the previous building he was in. So technically it's turning into a tavern and inn rather than mere drinking shop; or at least that's the plan so far. Little Lizard's powerful enough as best I can tell, and his influence keeps the kobolds happy I've found even if I'm not sure exactly the position.

Frankly he's on my good side and understands my position; he doesn't brutalise his slaves, try screwing me or the clan over and best I can tell is happy to work within the rules and laws set out. I want to encourage that behaviour in Sparta and Illusk lets say. Plus Petra from below is getting to work with?, for?, the kobold and run an apothecary there as well; more potion production and the woman needs something to go her way. I'm bringing her for lunch with Missy, Ghorza and Rose later in 'Menkins' before it reopens so she might relax a bit, and remind her and the kobold she has my support and protection even she moves out to there. Pretty ideal to have the tavern and potions shop right beside the future adventurers' guild I think what with the demand for such liquid refreshments.

Got a bakery just about finished across from them to fill the belly after the drink. One of our snior Captain's own it, Cardac; and NO he isn't suddenly a baker. Turns out he bought three bakers (or something close from their backgrounds) as his slave-cooks, a halfling and two human females, and took my suggestion to heart and wants to put them to use making him shiny coins. That's fine by me as it's not like he exactly has time with beating the crap out of recruits, or training the Silver-hair in combat, that he can run the place himself; I'd guess one of his females being overseer or such. And a bakery would be very useful alongside the food being cooked in the tavern for feeding hungry vassals and attracting in traders from the various settlements. It's not like we're having feasts everyday after all so I'd expect at least some of my merry minions is willing to pay extra for more than the standard staples around here.

Captain Krowluc's lot for instance might, Nimmil certainly would, especially since the stables got expanded and their numbers have crept up as our herd of horses have. Honestly I'd prefer one of our loyal clan-orcs to be in charge of our cavalry but that has to be judged against competence, and Krowluc is competent, and better at running a multi-species than any of our lot would be. So it's been a matter of rewarding him and incentivising him and his associates to stay on here as more than just mercenaries into the coming years. Something that's going to have to be considered I figure in coming years with successful officers, mages, or even if we start getting proper adventurers. Thankfully there's a whole valley to expand into, let along nearby ruins that need clearing and resettling - myself and Old Breyjuk are considering having one or two spots already for more than just the standard watchtower or blockhouse setup.

Hierarchy, and management therefore of, is a building issue as our numbers grow and we go from down in the dirt clan to powerful one fighting a war against a Horde. Even little things like the bunch of my new Janissaries being drilled rather relentlessly below us. After freeing Missy I figured that it would be best to try give the non-orc slaves a similar option to what younger captured warriors of defeated clans. Like we've already done with our defeated foes that got folded into our ranks; Defeat Equals Friendship applies to Orcs as well as Magical Girls it seems. That and it's not very uncommon to use slave-levies amongst orc clans; goblins mostly, and as arrow-fodder usually. The big difference here is that I'm making sure they'll be properly trained and equipped for the role; harsh orc training at that, but that's what healers and armour are for. It'll keep them alive longer on the field hopefully, and being a field slave isn't exactly easier.

Right now we've managed to get a full squad of humans, who are training below me right now, and three more of goblins being drilled elsewhere; size differences basically defining combat uses to be honest. Lot below me are an odd grab back, one adult male from the Dales taken from a caravan, two captured Uthgardht teenage boys, four captured women from an unlucky adventuring with one an elf, and three former Luskan guards from that caravan. Honestly those three I don't really want as part after their demon-serving caravan guarding but if I exclude the most competent of the lot then I screw up my own argument for the slave-warriors. So...hurray for them, and their under my personal ownership as head of the Ilneval's Church so I made sure the tattoos, collars and geas place upon all of them was very fucking firm. Service may Equal Citizenship but don't mean I'm going to trust them outside of having some kind of leash upon them.

--

[Nedorious Illian Kline III 06]

Underneath the Keep of Sparta

"Pre-Netherese in origin you say?"

"Indeed my dear boy, or more likely in my view, early First Age from a non-Netherese culture that ran afoul of the rising power of Netheril..." Nedorious explained to the two young Harpell mages as their group descended into the 'Undercity' in the glimmering light cast by their magic "...I'd estimate it was a rather large city-state for the time, well from the model map I showed you above and the fact of the size of this tower. Fascinating properties of much of the stonework, and the various sigils and runs we've discovered as the excavations have progressed!"

The crossed woman Bella hummed speculatively as they strolled around the lowest level of the 'Tower' glancing around at the various dirt covered ancientness "Yes it seems to have surprising spell resistance doesn't it Master Nedorious? Quite resistant to even our more...energetic...castings I found?"

'Which is probably why my orcish shaman apprentice allowed you down here to practice rather than above with all the flammable buildings...and people...around' Nedorious thought to himself cheerful but instead replying with a friendly nod. Why this whole relationship with the Longsaddle mages would be excellent for improving his craft...and perhaps recruiting allies for dealing with the insult offered to himself by those naughty, bony, fools within the Host Tower?

"Indeed it is young Bella, very impressive work to have lasted all this time. My own thesis is that the city-state was likely focused around spell resistance, and perhaps even anti-magic fields or weave disruption spells, for its magical defence and warfare. Now we haven't been able to explore beyond the tower here I'm afraid but considering the likely fate of this place we all here feel this was the most likely situation for these folk"

"Hmmm...hmmm...huh?...what situation that befell this place?" the other one, Harkle, enquired looking up the tome he was busily scribbling in with an enchanted quill of some sort. Nice fellow Nedorious found, bit excitable but decent enough at the craft, and had been rather distracted since young Karguk had allowed them access to this part of the excavations. Mostly Nedorious suspected to keep them focused on things away from the Shaman's Tower, or just from causing any unfortunate incidents when they weren't being supervised so to speak.

"Buried beneath a mountain would be my best explanation of the geography of this valley..." Nedorious answered as they entered the 'artefact room' for anything that had been salvaged by the digger-orcs and slaves down here "...well more giant-ass mud/rock-slide whatever with epic level spells that the Netheril of that era could pull off I expect. We're actually pretty deep underground and I think the water supply is coming from an underground river. The city here, in the model, is in the middle of a lake not a valley"

Now the important discoveries, such as the Tomes and some artefacts, were stored up in the Shaman's Tower and not mentioned to these fine fellows. It was all rather fascinating actually even if the mostly understood magical tome, The Tome of Wiki as young Karguk called it, seemed to be only useful to said Orcish shaman for some reason. Reincarnation or divine influence as a priest seemed the most likely reason. Gods were always cheating like that he found. Still while one of the other Tomes remained undecipherable he was at least starting to get some understanding of the third one found; or at the least the diagrams and scribbled drawings of runes or sigil-work parts.

Sadly without a basic understanding of the city and its culture the grasping of the underlying meaning of these texts would be a work of years mostly likely. And even then it might all be useful since the inability to duplicate more powerful Netherese spells even with perfect knowledge, and strength to cast them, since the end of that era. Unfortunately they didn't have that as this place clearly wasn't based on the Netheril model and some very unhelpful people had buried it under a veritable valley's worth of earth in the past. Mighty unhelpful they were to his research purposes...

"Fascinating, truly fascinating, to think such a place has been hidden from our eyes for all these centuries. Why to think we can learn of the First Age, maybe even of the times before the rise, or even the rise of, Nethoril itself through the eyes of outsiders!"

Nedorius snored softly in amusement "That may take some time I fear my fine fellow, combine with spell resistant stone work with unknown local script and one runs into the problem of not having an easy understanding of all the symbols upon the walls. For instance...we're pretty sure those on the small rooms the floor up are...possibly...that for the privy. Assuming we ever find out where those small holes in the floor actually leads too below"

"Hmmm, oh, yeah...that would limit options for understanding the language wouldn't it...no success at all with you spells?"

"Nope, not in the least..." Nedorious answered cheerfully "...all joys of my new home and my role as the First and Greatest Yet Orcish Archmage! Discovery and success my fine fellows is all the better tasting after one has struggled to achieve it! Ever upward and onward I say!"

It was the woman mage who decided to challenge him upon his status as the greatest of the current orcish wizards upon Faerun "Umm...aren't you human under that spell?"

Nedorious waved her away "Pshaw! One shouldn't be limited to such small thinking in our profession let me tell you! Why I was even an Elven woman once...also, on a side note, I wouldn't recommend testing magical items by trying them on...but where was I? Oh yeah, learning experiences! Why I find being Orc Ned makes me Best Ned! All the orc ladies say so...though that could be due interest in my professional services I'll admit...so I'm technically the greatest Orc Necromancer Arch-mage right now! And being technical correct is the greatest, and most lawful, form of being correct!"

"Umm...what...well why you..." crossed eyed Bella began to ask before her fellow Harpell interrupted in a curious tone "What was that experience like?"

He shrugged "Eh, general feeling of smug superiority and being better than everyone else mostly...also a weird craving eating strawberries for some reason if I recall correctly"

His dear death dealing dwarf Crue gave a loud "Heh!" snort as she interjected her own opinion on the matter "...sounds like ye most of the danged time Boss ta me ears!"

He waved a finger at her and tut-tutted her "Now, now, Crue my dear! It's a matter of degrees and actually being better than many others we deal with in the business rather than natural inclination. Why you yourself have felt the same way on many an occasion, have you not?"

She grunted "Cuz most of'em were an' are fuck'in imbeciles Boss"

"Course they were, earned smugness there Crue! Earned! Anywho...can I interest either of you fine fellows in walking around as an orc during your visit to this fine settlement?"

A firm response from the cross-eyed woman "NO"

"Well, not that you mention it, it would be a..." smack followed by a feminine voice overrode the other Harpell's "NO! No he would not"

"Eh, your loss, any on that note how're ya'll finding your time in this fine establishment? Young Karguk runs a tight ship now doesn't he? All shipshape and waterdeep fashion eh?"

"Yes it truly a surprise to find a place such as this out here in the Crags, run by orcs of all creatures. It's most strange especially to see them; I mean yourself and the others, training them in the arcane arts..." Bella Harpell continued glaring at her fellow member of that clan as he apparently pouted "...why I never thought to see a room of young orcs, let alone a room of them learning to cast spells and seeking to the understand the mysteries of the Weave"

"Oh yes, but stranger things I've seen in my travels, and well they learn well enough, listen well after a got smack to the head too unlike many an apprentice I've talked to over the year. Have you been around the 'town' below since you arrived?"

"Ahh...not so much since Malchor and his escort returned home I fear, our studies with yourself, Milady Missy and Nimmil have consumed our time, along with unpacking our things and arranging our accommodation suitably to our liking"

"Oh Pshaw! Have to bring you on a little explore around the village and show your faces around the place for our friendly orcs! Myself and my merry bodyguards shall escort thee and yours down there tomorrow or the day after, why the new tavern is supposed to open in short!" he paused "...well your welcome but Nims can't go I'm afraid. Personal differences with the tavern owner I'm afraid. That and I need to sort out my next order of reagents and potions from the owner and his own supplier"

"That...would be acceptable...Doctor Nedorious"

--