In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

22. Entry 22

[Zahgorim 19]

Hill of Mists, The Crags

He frowned looking up at the host waiting up on the ridge before them "Don't look like they want to come down to face us, now does it?"

Chief Jernak nodded then glancing at Zahgorim and the High Shaman beside "Aye, might have been us givin'em a bloody nose till now. So we're chargin' up there to get'em I guess?"

Zahgorim remained silent a moment and scanned the line of orc warriors and banners across from them after holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the painful sun. It seemed the Blood Mists had managed to pull in a good chunk of allied clans in the region, or just those with a particular hatred of one his own allies; as with the Black Bog Clan who were here because they and the Moonblades had feuded in the past. Numbers were about even he guessed, or perhaps a little in favour of their foes.

But the smaller clashes and skirmishes as they'd marched here on the Blood Mist's stronghold had shown this lot to be wary of expecting easy victory against the combined clans of this Illuskan Legion. All of which now stood formed up at the base of the stronghold's tower and ridgeline in various blocks of warriors as the rearguard arrived with war-wagons behind his current position. It'd be bloody if they were just charge across the remaining flat-ish ground, and then up the hill...

He grunted after a moment as the others stayed equally silent, like him thinking through what to do next "It'll cost us though if we're not careful, got a nice spot there and we'd have to push slowly going uphill against arrows and rocks and all the other shit they'll fling down at us. Not sounding particularly glorious for a battle I'll say honestly, especially in this wretched light, so any other suggestions afore we decide on a straight up charge?"

Their enemy it seemed weren't idiots and trying to turn one advantage Zahgorim's warriors and their allies had against them somewhat. Namely their superiority in fighting during the painful hours of sunlight when many orc warriors were dazed or half blinded from the wicked sun above; instead this lot had chosen their ground so the sun was at their back and into the face of any attackers coming at them. From here Zahgorim could only make out the basics of their enemies, and he'd spent years growing used fighting in the evil sunlit hours alongside the rest of his age group in the clan. Hardly ideal for a furious charge if your warriors were going in half blinded from the start!

"Hmmm, indeed Chief Zahgorim indeed, our plan to use our strength in the twisted light of the sun isn't going to help as we'd hoped it seems..." the ancient looking High Shaman Phargk replied leaning on his staff, his cloak over his head concealing his eyes from, likely painful to an underground dweller like he, said daylight before them "...and it would foolish, brave as well perhaps but still foolish, to attack a larger horde upon a height as we face here. Perhaps instead it would be best to draw them down to face us on our terms perhaps?"

Zahgorim nodded in agreement, as did Chief Jernak, as they turned away from the suns glare to stand in a rough circle as their subordinates fell in around them "Getting them to want to come down to fight us will be the hard part I reckon Holy One. They've got a nice little place to hold up there and for us to bleed upon trying to take it...we can hit with arrows and that from here...but, well, that'll only soften them up at best Holy One"

Convincing the others that hammering the nine hells out of their enemy with Karg's Hwacha's, the skirmishers and whatever spells could reach then foe from this distance would be his preferred plan for storming the hill, then storming the tower and palisade of the stronghold. If they could break up the enemy war-host before they attacked it would help a great deal, even beyond their now usual tactic with their spell-casters, then defeating them would be all the more glorious and more likely. Whatever the case the old high shaman seemed to hum in thought as his hooded head seemed to follow the host and banners of the foe before them, before stomping his staff faintly as if deciding upon something.

"Hmm...hmmm...indeed that maybe the best course young warchief, if only a part of a greater one I can see, why youngins what do I see when I gaze across our foe?"

Zahgorim shrugged having no idea what the ancient orc was on about as he glanced back at the shield-wall of orcs beneath various clan banners hand held up to shield his eyes. Not formed up in formations like their own Illuskan warriors had beaten into them these past months, and for his Spartans for years, but in clumps and clusters made from the various allied warbands of the enemy host. All in all it was a smaller version of the mighty host assembled by the Warlord Wyrmog only a scant year and a season ago. One that had been evidently rife with conflict and...

Ah perhaps...

He nodded after a moment in understanding as Chief Jernak continued to look both curious and confused at the old shaman's query "Would it that they are many banners but little order between their ranks Holy One? They are united by either hate or fear of us but they cluster together in clumps as best I can tell from here. Would this be what you see High Priest Phargk?"

"Heh hehe heh, sumin' like that young chieftain, sumin' like that...that lot over there are united only by their hate and fear ah all of us, but thats about it. If we want'em to come down to fight us then we just need to get one'of'em to break ranks and come chargin' down at us and the others will follow cause their warriors'll demand it. Not every clan is like yer lots, willing to stand around and wait fer the battle to come to ye rather than just chargin' in for blood an' glory..."

He motioned with his staff to the side of the hills and trees below the Blood Mists holdfast which that allied warhost was using as a secure flank to their army "Bring yer magic fire wagons with sum'yer guards to the base of that hill, with me other shamans too, and we'll start a flame that'll get them worried at least"

Zahgorim frowned trying to study the ground where indicated. Scaling that area would be very difficult and likely why the Blood Mists and allied had left as the end of one side of their line. Still it didn't look like doing what was proposed would be easy "Will the flames spread enough Holy One? Karg's weapons won't be able to go up that hill I think"

"Heh heh heh, likely not youngin'...likely not, but it'll damned well look like it'll spread up that hill and start to burn out their nice stronghold I'd reckon what with all the flames and smoke we can generate. Put a fire on their Chief to do sumin' about it all from his warriors don't you think? heh heh heh"

"As you say Holy One, but I still want to push up our Hwachas and other artillery up and start hitting the other clans and try and get them riled up. Don't think they'd have the patience to stand up to it if we're burning the ground on the other flank..." Zahgorim replied trailing off as he tried to judge the best position to place their siege weapons and skirmishers to attempt such a thing.

If what the ancient and powerful shaman was suggesting was true then the more pressure they placed on the enemy then the more likely they'd be to break ranks and start a charge. It was easy to forget that while his warriors would be able hold position up there that wasn't always true of other clans; as had been the case with the Fingecutters and those before them when they'd first taken the valley. Chief Jernak voiced his agreement to that plan at least Zahgorim noted.

"Aye, you speak truth Chief Zahgorim, Holy Phargk, best to try draw them down while we can and use our discipline against their impatience. At the least it will be the blessed hours of darkness, and their lines weakened, when begin our attack if they do not come against us as we wish?"

"Hmm, hmmm...yes, yes youngin's that's a fine plan, though we are agreed Chief Zahgorim will command this battle young Jernak? Best not to have any troubles when the blood starts to fly, I shall take charge of that flank there and flames while you on the other flank with the hobs beside ye?"

There were no complaints of course, the old bastard was in charge of their alliance after all and Jernak tended to follow Zahgorim's led in things with him being in charge of his clan for even less time than the Spartan Chieftain and his position being less secure. Still the ancient orc was wise enough to leave the fighting and battle plans to the warriors and war-chief...albeit with *strong advise* being given by his holy self. Then again the advice, like now, he gave tended towards the useful in exploiting weaknesses within their enemy clans, or bringing his powers to bear. With that agreement Zahgorim pulled on his steel helmet, called his officers to him and began the process of getting them into the battle line he desired...

--

[Karguk 35]

Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

"So how many were there this time?" Old Breyuk queried from the leader of the band of recently returned garrison message runners. Sounding grumpier than he likely was due to being roused earlier than he'd likely wanted. Still it was that time of the year so it wasn't all that unexpected that there'd be these annoyances; ones that were best dealt with before they became serious or clan threatening problems.

"Bout four hands worth Chief Breyjuk, headin' up around north of the hills from what the other watchtower signalled us after dey saw'em"

"They say ought else squad-leader?"

"No Chief dey said nuffin' else other than them were headin' north on the edge of da valley and what numbers dey' saw of'em" was the reply from the young lean looking orc who'd ran here with two others from the nearby blockhouse on the river bridge a few hours away. I glanced at the old warchief as he motioned at the three messengers to go get food and drink now that they'd delivered their report. Once they'd left I sighed and rested back in my own chair.

"So either a raiding party, scouts seeking out weakness, or another minor band looking to join us maybe...I'd prefer the third in all honesty"

He grunted from his seat, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist that made me think of Old Orc Conan for a moment "Aye Karguk, as would I, but a band that size is more likely to be young warriors raiding and seeking to prove themselves by grabbing cattle or slaves than scouts. Raidin' season is slowly com'in upon us after all"

I could only agree with that thought. Weather had turned good and bounty of nature was starting to come in bloom from it – meaning it was easier to live off the land for forage and move quicker for a raid. Generally better to hit around harvest of course, but livestock and slave raids were just as effective at this early stage of the season as in the later months of summer "Yeah, time flies by doesn't it? Honestly, I know the kobolds or goblins could handle it themselves if it's just those numbers, but best to reinforce the patrols up there from a few squads we've got here I reckon?"

"Ey, best to show them our strength than getting any ideas..." he replied with a yawn "...what do ye suggest as Shaman?"

I hummed in thought a moment as I rested my arms on the stone sides of the uncomfortable chair "I suppose we could send four squads...no, six...as a hunting warband; maybe three of the auxlia, the janissary squad, and two of our own warriors? I'd like to give a few of our subordinates a chance to lead, one of my Red Branch Knights like Darnuk maybe?"

"Not one of our senior leaders or all warriors from the clan?" he asked back with more curiosity than anything else. I shrugged as I pushed myself up to stand, chainmail clinking faintly.

"I'd like to see how he does in command; and same for the auxlia outside of the line of battle. They fought well enough against Warlord Wyrmog's lot so best to see how the female auxlia mixed with them has affected that, or how they fight on the level of the raid..." I sighed as I stretched slightly "...plus I think we're as well keeping our warriors concentrated here in case we have to move out if it's much more than a raid do you?"

"Aye, probably good idea to get them to bleed a little and be able to fight iff'in the others clans come in large numbers as you say. Go ahead and take which squads you wish from the Auxlia, but have them take Grom's squad. He's been a whiny little whelp but he needs bloodin' before he can let near a proper fight. I know yer orc Darnuk can beat some damned sense into his thick skull on the hunt. Send them off while you are walkin' the lower slopes will you Shaman?" Old Brejyuk replied resting back in his chair a moment and glancing at me tiredly.

"Of course my Chief, I'm actually heading down there now to see the new recruits training so I'll arrange things...unless you require me for something else?"

He snorted and waved me off "Bah, always thinking of more work aren't you Shaman? No I'm gonna have some grub and booze before beatin' the shit outta some of stupid whelps who aren't even at the level of stupid of Grom and the others yet"

"Heh, have fun then my Chief, I'll just be off now" I replied respectfully and then waved for Rose and my bodyguards to join me as I exited the room. I glanced at the plate armoured form of the Red Branch Knight as the group fell in around me.

"Happy now?"

"Yes Boss, thanks fer that" he replied gratefully with a nod of his armoured helm. While we'd managed to fall in for a decent amount of plate armour from our earlier battles and from the trade the most of it wasn't really in orc size. So sadly only the better warriors tended to be granted it between myself and the two chieftains fighting bands...unless it was the human Auxlia who tended to be the right size for them. So for the lot going out I was going to try getting them into the suits still to be worked on for orc size adjustment.

"Good, won't be any issues with having the auxlia and Chief Breyjuk's pick for one of them?"

"Nah Boss, Grom's just fuckin eager to get inta the fight so he can prove himself fer one of the Chiefs younger whelps. Probably why Chief Breyjuk is givin' him a chance to either prove himself...or get himself killed either...with his askin' ya Boss"

'Ah horny teens and protective dads...joy' I thought with a nod as I strode through the Keep and out into the courtyard beyond. Training was in progress again...and there was our silver haired nudist paladin beating the holy hells out of a group of unfortunate auxlia. Likely dragged up here by Cardac to give her human opponents to train, especially against now that she'd learned the Mage-Armour spell in recent days. Or simply for the fact they both liked seeing the silvery haired girl beating some humans up instead of the clan orcs...in the name of training of course. Definitely not for the LOLs according to them like I sometimes thought.

"Is Missy not coming with us today Sir?" Rose asked as we walked past the Tower and past the guards at the gate to the Keep. I shook my head in the negative.

"No she's...well, she's riding herd on the Harpells so they don't hopefully set fire to anything..." much to the relief I'm sure of Menkin in the Tavern after the drunken...incident...a little while ago "...plus she wants to study so she's getting the day to study with Ned and the Harpells..." I ruffled her hair with my hand and she pouted up at me as I chuckled at her displeasure"...just you and me today I'm afraid sunshine"

She pushed my hand away and huffed quietly arms folded across her chest as a few of my guards chuckled softly to themselves as we walked down the slope towards the town area. What a difference a few months of effort could make as I glanced up at the guards upon the earthen walls we'd erected to seal off attacks from that side of the outcropping. A nice mixture of dirty brown and green splotches it was thanks to planting I'd had down there, and helped along by the red haired girl walking beside me. Not only did it provide supports for the walk along with the rock and wooden pillars, pretty soon it would be providing some lovely and edible berries when they grew.

I'd done the same with the other walls thanks to the combination of Rose, her grandmother, Zah's Holawyn, and of course Doctor Ned so at least now the 'cauldron' that formed the town's defensive area as it descended from stronghold, through the new terraces, down to the flat ground at the bottom. It was a nice, if now restricted, view down into the town in my opinion. When the other clans had first attacked us here about half a decade ago this had just been basic fieldworks, but now it should hopefully be able to withstand something of that level and of those murder-hobo fuckers. Or at the least it would slow them down I hoped. Whatever the case at least we'd have warning of attackers off in the distance. Rose though seemed more curious other matters of course.

"Is it wise to send out the fighting-slaves Sir? It's only been a few weeks since you put them in training isn't it?"

I nodded, in all honest I could agree with her but...it wasn't like I'd easy options to test things out "Maybe, but this is as controlled a fight as I can find to test out if they'll follow orders or try get around the geas and curse-wards. Odds are it'll be just a few days, or ten-days, marching about anyway and Darnuk here knows how to keep order if it comes a fight and..."

Darnuk nodded "...I'll have the kobolds or gobbies in support us anyway. I'll keep order and keep trainin'em hard Boss"

"Good, just what I like to hear, now Rose what do you think should be our first plan of action?"

"Hmm...pick out the squads to go Sir, and then see about weapons and armour?"

I grinned back "Yep, since we've got...

--

When: Summer of 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Shaman's Tower, Sparta

Lots of activity to report upon in the past few weeks, sorry ten-days, and it's been rather hectic as well here in my capacity as Shaman and the de-facto law-maker of the clan(s). Some good news, some bad news, and what's worse how much of that is true can be very hard to know unfortunately, in this land of rumours and partially rue myths. The first issue is the appearance of the usual raiding bands at the fringes of the valley once again; raiding season gets really annoying when you're on the other end of it I find. On the bright side there are the remnants of various structures from previous settlements of the valley, ones meant to handle that exact problem, so we had something to start with.

That and using what I have in my Tome of Wiki on the strategies used by the British for instance against such groups...like my past life's ancestors of course...on another world. So watch-tower/blockhouses with 'signalling' abilities from magic, mirrors, or a few flare fireworks and mobile patrols between them. Sent off a large group of about sixty, including the slave-legion-squad, up to reinforce the north of the valley and hunt down a raiding band spotted in that direction. Captain Krowluc and his cavalry ran across a smaller band off to the south, and wiped them out of course, but one has to be ever wary they aren't scouts for a larger force with things the way they are in the Crags.

Of course I shouldn't complain too much about it since we've raided as a clan for years and years so it'd be hypocritical I suppose. Also because the constant threat and pressure is a handy-dandy way of keeping the vassals in line and having them follow along development lines I'd like. Hey, look, society works on a mixture of fear, self-interest and loyalty and, right now, the third isn't exactly bedrock thick from anyone in the valley since we only conquered them about three to five years ago. So the consolidation seemingly continues among those we've favoured largely; we have two human (and half-elf in Zah's one) villages, two kobold ones, and of course goblin-town. Evidently a few other smaller bands of our height challenged minions have relocated around one or two of them as well. Clan politics, not just for orcs it seems.

On that note - tribal politics seem to have brought word of possible bad news to our doorstep. No sooner than Ghorza had returned to Zybelin's Drift than she's sending weirdness in the shape of word that three half starved Uthgardters turned up at the village seeking to trade shiny gems for food. Or, more accurately, three half-starved Uthgartters approached one of caravans (a human one) seeking to do so. At least till they were persuaded to come inside the walls by that lot; all thanks to my rather firm others not to start trouble (ie try murder/rob/enslave) with anyone coming to our territory that doesn't cause trouble themselves. An interesting find to say the least, and I'm having them sent up here with the next supply caravan or returning patrol so I can interview them myself. Evidently one of them might be a spell-caster so he/she will get a nice cushy job if they know how to follow orders from an orc.

Whatever skills they may have the more important news is that, well, we might have been better off going after the Sky Pony tribe off the bat rather than the Blood Mists. In truth neither us nor the Moonblades have seen much of them and the other Uthgardt tribes since our battle with them with Furry Fucker, or the Sky Ponies here in the valley. Yeah I know it's only been like three seasons, but everything the Moonblades and other clans had seen indicated that tribe of human barbarians were taking the get out of dodge option. Which was fine by me and the others, as we had other concerns like orcish ones to deal with. Seems that might have been a mistake as someone's returned with mercenary support to re-organise that tribe at least. And by 're-organise' I meant purge anyone who opposes them and form the rest up under her banners into a fight force again. Fucking joy.

I'm not really sure whose backing them from the sounds of it. Evil blood sacrificing fire worshipers from the sounds of it, I'll ask in detail later as I can't think of who they are. Maybe Rhollor has jumped dimensions as an Outsider God? Anyway the fact they might have some heavy horse is a concern, along with some well trained infantry to make up for their losses – though good news on that front is the fact the Uthgardt losses were heavy to say the least between the allied battle and our own effort. Or I figure so if they're already throwing younger boys, oldsters and women into the fighting ranks to make up numbers.

I'll admit we do too, but ours is as much population growth plus conquests demanding more troops to hold it than the desperation I figure seems to be mentioned by Ghorza. Then again; could just be desperate failed coupists whining about their failure and bemoaning the 'good old days' from it. Only time will tell on what the case is I suppose. The good news related to all that is that Zah and Darth Phargk have broken the Blood Mists in battle and sacked their stronghold. He also mentioned banging his half-elf in the slain clan's 'throne room' in the message so I know it's from him and true. Like I wouldn't have known that from the familiar, the barely legible scrawl, and symbol used to transport the bloody message Zah!

Anyway the word is good, in that he won, but concerning in the sense that a decent amount more enemies were present to face them evidently. A few clans we'd have hoped stayed neutral in the fight, or at least have been discouraged due to the Furry Fucker's defeat, evidently turned up and joined with the Blood Mists against us and our allies. So their plan for the rest of the summer season is to hunt down and destroy all the others in the general area; well, either yield and submit to our rule or get hunted down and destroyed. We know that Furry loving bastard and his forces are regrouping, but not where, so shattering his allies like the Blood Mists is the best we can do for now.

Or that's what Zah and Darth Shaman say at least, and it's their army to direct in the field so not much to say on that. Save that their sending their 'spoils' back here to divided up and traded between ourselves and the Moonblades, Night-tombs getting their shinies later in the year. Mostly I expect because Sparta is probably the closest thing to an actual trade hub here in the Crags and Darth Phargk doesn't want a baggage train slowing them down in the fighting. Sparta's near, the Moonblades are sending caravans here already, and we've access to the likes of Longsaddle so it makes sense to me even if it'll mean sending out an escort to meet up with loot train as it nears the valley. What with raiders wandering around and all that.

In good news/bad news the Harpells are getting on very well with my young magic learning minions. Good in the sense that it means I've access to secondary teachers for them, but bad in the sense of...Harkle and Doctor Ned are a bad influence in encouraging 'make things go BOOM' learning and testing procedures. So I'm arranging a nice firing range down slope away from flammable things like buildings, fields, and people so they can all indulge in their merry destructive practices somewhere not here. The Underkeep is ideal for letting the Harpells doing their thing but not for more than one or two practitioners letting off their more offensive based spells. Missy agrees with me, likely after having to help me keep them all in line. All I'll say is that at least we're building friendly relations with the crazy blow shit up wizards...and having lots of practice for my trainee medical personnel! Win-win in its own fucked up way I guess?

One positive of this is that I've had time with being located here to actually work upon my arcane studies in a proper learning and testing environment. Yes I admit I'm busy between training and doing leadership stuff, but compared to months on the march it's now at almost a half a day's worth of study each day rather than every ten-day or so. Missy and Rose are delighted too of course, Missy because she's actually getting a full blown (albeit possibly crazy) education in the arcane from a Master of the Art, and Rose because I think she's enjoying being my right hand minion at the moment. That and the fact she's getting to study things with Lua, Missy and the likes as well...which is something she never would have gotten in the village; open world of learning and all that. Expand the horizon, open the mind, and all that jazz.

It helps that Oggy's back in full commission once again and my new little bundle of joy Ogkra is hale and hearty...any being minded by my ever lovely Mara and Kethri at Oggy's direction. I've cleaned up, more importantly bricked up the holes, in one of side rooms of this floor and the one below so there's more room for the children. Well that and for the new larger Study/Library of mine, well mine and Missy's, just below us so there's more 'living space' in this part of the tower for everyone. Tris I'll admit seems to have been turned into something of a servant by Oggy (and maybe Lua) and her new necklace almost collar-like – note to self: have a chat with Oggy and Lua about this. Maybe Tris first even if seems oddly cheerful about the whole situation which is why I've let it go by and large.

The only other thing of note is that we've effectively deforested the area immediately around the stronghold next year it could be converted into farmland. At the moment it just means we've a lovely spot of open ground to see attackers coming, or to allow use as a killing zone by our archers. Really amazing how quickly it happened, but then again when you've several hundred...I mean thousands...of hands, free and slave, working at it then it fly by. Still the valley itself it heavily forested so it'll be a while before we run out of nearby woods, but I need to start checking what types of wood – to the non mages among us certain materials can affect the outcome of an enchantment I'm being told. So far brute forcing via ritual and Gods-slaves has been a work around but that's not something that's efficient, or can be kept up for very long I expect.

Anywho I've been reviewing what is available here; woods have been mostly cedars, cherry and walnut as best I call tell, with some oak in other areas of the valley. In terms of metal we've got a supply coming from the two kobold villages of iron and silver; we've got a smithing operation here at long last even if the quality is...orc level. Most of the quality stuff comes from the human village's I'll admit, but we're able to churn out arrow heads and the like here without much issue as best I can tell. Goblins have got me salt supply up in Goblin-town as I call it, and some silver as well. We reckon there's an old quarry that supplied the granite walls of the stronghold nearby between our territory and the Moonblades so wild lands and not easy to access unfortunately, assuming it's what it looks like anyway. That and we've a market...

Sadly must go. Duty calls.

--

[Vaerier 05]

Menkin's (Magical) Tavern & Apothecary, Lower Slopes, Sparta

"Now go get the barrel of the Zybelin's Drift Ale and bring it up here Scadua, seems we're out" she instructed the half-orc girl on the other side of the bar after glancing at the stores arrayed for later tonight. The orc girl bowed obediently, 'Yes Miss Vaerier'ed, then hurried off to the entrance to the basement store behind the bar and do just as she'd instructed by Vaerier.

She sighed softly at the sight. Of all of them the half-orc girl had 'broken in' the quickest and easiest to her new role in life, well, other than an initial bout of resistance that had led to her name of 'whines/whiner' of course. Franja assumed it was probably the orcish upbringing, humiliation hadn't fazed her, but after few canings she'd fallen in line like it was the most natural thing in the world. All at the hands of Franja herself, at her Master Menkin's command of course, in her newfound role as 'supervisor' over the other slave-servers here in the new, much expanded, tavern. Not an elevation in status she had desired, or enjoyed implementing, but one made what one could of life in the end.

Still she'd avoided thinking too much on that matter since the move to this much bigger tavern building thanks to Master Menkin's dealings with the orc rulers of the stronghold. Something that had required a whole lot of effort regardless, so focusing on it hadn't been exactly difficult truly as three or four times the size required three or four times the work as well. Just like now as she started stoking up the flames in the stone fireplace, or more honestly fireplace dug into the cliffs rockwall, and getting it setup for the roast of the day. In this case two wild boars killed by those horrible, but evidently skilled, Gnoll hunter-mercenaries that had appeared in the town a few ten-days ago.

With a few herbs and a bit of preparation and the smell would draw in coin spending customers; worked just as well with orcs as it had with humans she'd found. Thankfully now all that had to be done was throw on a few more blocks of firewood, turn the iron spit carefully so not to burn oneself, and avoid getting grease on her hands, or on her currently clean dress. She'd feel annoyed to dirty it so soon after getting dressed, and before the day...nights...work schedule had started with all the drunken louts spilling as much they drank, after all. And this one she liked, a nice light thing that had probably been some wealthy folk's dress at one time before it had been torn badly.

Honestly she was rather proud of her re-stitching the whole thing into its current appearance leaving her arms and lower legs bare to enjoy the summer, and inside, warmth. Master Menkin had been pleased at her abilities too, a thing that was good in her mind even if it meant she was in charge of fixing his clothing from now on. She pushed herself back up and retreated away from the warmth of fire as the sounds of her half-orc fellow slave coming back up the steps of the stairs from behind the 'bar' area. Glancing in that direction she waved her hand where she wanted as the burly slave-girl strolled back into sight with a wooden keg resting upon her shoulder in a way Franja herself wouldn't have been able to manage.

"Yes, just over there, and bring in some more firewood. We're running low" she instructed in guttural orcish motioning to a spot unseen behind the crudely built, but thick and strong, wood countertop of the bar. Picking up languages, and their lesser dialects, had always been an important skill for any barmaid, dancer or server she'd found. Common didn't always sound like Common from certain folk she'd found. With agreement voiced by the half-orc Franja strode past her, the stairs into the basement, and into the backroom area seeking out where another of her fellows was hiding. Or resting and/or thinking possibly, but Franja suspected it was the hiding situation considering things.

'Or, rather than hiding, she could be freaking out' she thought with a mixture of sadness and bemusement as she went to, the still empty, back-store and there was the halfling pacing back and forth, arms alternatively hugging herself or gesticulating as she muttered to herself faintly. Franja just stared a moment as the other slave failed to notice her appearance, then shook her head and folded her arms across her chest.

"Nasiri...are you okay? We'll be having folk coming in an' short and you'll...well..." she announced softly causing her height challenged fellow slave to startle, stare up at her, and cover herself in a rather pointless gesture. Franja sighed.

"None of that nonsense hun' I'm afraid, openin' time you're on greetin' and dancin' duty girl. So you alrite?"

The halfling pouted, hands coming up and gesturing in a 'are you mocking me!' motion "Do I look alright Miss Vaerier? I...I, I look both ridiculous and scandalous! How can Master Menkin expected me...to cavort around like this for the night!"

Franja sighed again and gave the shorter humanoid a sad look of sympathy. She could agree with shorter females misery at her appearance, clad in a mix of warpaint, a pair of scandals, and coloured feathers like the name Master Menkin had given her. Nasiri looked like some dreadful mixture of a tiny naked barbarian berserker and clown...mostly clown, a humorous parody of a proper Uthgardter Warrior; a tiny, harmless, imitation of a war-axe resting nearby to complete the image. Which was the point after all Franja knew as she kept a gentle tone with the woman "I think it's the punishment part of the act for you Nasiri if I recall correctly yes? Back talk to Master, and then insulting Scadua...and it was this or twenty strikes of the cane wasn't it?"

The pout stayed, but the halfling looked down at her feet "Yes Miss Vaerier, it was"

"And you choose this over the other punishment yes? You know I'll be made punish you more if you start acting up now right?"

A sigh and the pout vanishing greeted her and Nasiri looked back up and gave an equally sad but bemused smile back at her "It's okay...apologies Miss Vaerier Ma'am, Mar...Nasiri understands...it's just another show after all! I can do this! Just another show...just...a bit different is all. A little different and easily act to do. I can do this. Right?"

Franja nodded back at Nasiri's own nod, and attempt at convincing herself, and watched as the halfling picked up the 'war-axe' after taking a deep breath "Yes you can my dear, just endure it and they time will fly by. Your perfectly safe and if anyone gets grabby just wave or shout at me, or one oh' the guards, and grabby hands'll be gettin' broken right quick hun"

Nasiri actually chuckled at that "Trying to make me think happy thoughts Miss Vaerier"

"Heh, mayhap Nasiri, Master Menkin likes to keep things be the rules here after all!" Franja chuckled back as she motioned for the other slave to head on out to the main room "...now I'd say get setup...and you and Scadua be civil to each other. I've told her the same by the way, so I ain't takin' sides unless it keeps up. Now have you seen Dia? She's supposed be here by now"

"She's upstairs cleaning the rooms and makin' the beds Miss Vaerier, but she's likely with Miss Petra by now I'd expect. Master Menkin wanted them ready as he expects guests for the eve, then for some things to be moved for the apothecary" came back in reply as the halfling walked with her back out of back of the bar and into the common room.

The still empty common room, but that wouldn't last for long she knew as the doors would be opening again once their kobold master returned from his trip up to the stronghold and the Orc Shaman. Something that she was looking forward to as he'd taken her Katya with him as his assistant slave as usual and Franja would like a chat with her daughter before things became too busy to do so. Their owner, now that he'd gotten more slaves to work 'under' Franja, had elevated her daughter to his personal slave...and then sent her to learn some skills with the Alchemist Petra, and one of the Orc Wizard's apprentices, in the role. Franja wouldn't complain as this 'Prestidigitation' her baby had learned had down wonders for cleaning...

"Miss Petra, Greetings, I hope I have not disturbed thee" she greeted respectfully with a bow as she entered the space set aside for the friendly, but rather painfully nervous and shy, alchemist by Franja's and the other kobold Master. Evidently the woman was under the protection of the orc clan's Wizard-Shaman, and Master Menkin found her very useful, so he had given some rather firm instructions on ensuring she was treated with the utmost respect by all of them.

"Ah...oh, hello Vaerier...um, sorry I just had...ah, borrow Dia here for some tasks...Menkin said it was okay?" came back from the woman with the wild hair and absentminded look thanks to her dusty robes and motioning at the tiefling slave nearby "...we are...just finished now though, so...ah is it opening time already?"

Franja smiled back warmly "Aye Miss Petra, we are opening in short and roast boar shall be ready not long after I can assure thee. Do you wish me to arrange some for thee?"

"Oh...em,...yes...no, wait, Lord Karguk and Lady Missy are coming shortly...I think...to have dinner with me and Menkin...so...maybe? I probably should tidy up..." she flustered back looking at the two slaves then at herself "...oh, yes, best do something..."

Franja smiled and bowed again "Then please allow Diabolich to help thee Miss Petra..." then glanced over at the tiefling girl in her now dust covered apron "...Dia, help Miss Petra please and then clean yourself off and be ready to serve the floor with Scadua, I'll be at the bar...and is the upstairs prepared?"

"Yes Miss Vaerier" came back in reply. The tiefling teenager may have the tiny horns and pink-red skin with the demonic look...but she'd folded almost as quickly as the half-orc in terms of serving; taking to her new role almost eagerly. Then again she'd been half-starved and beaten wretch when Master Menkin had bought her for next to nothing; and the beatings hadn't started, or even been worst, with the orcs it seemed. After talking to the rather shy girl under that faintly demonic visage...well...Sahala now Dia had nowhere else to go from here even compared to all the rest of them...

'Seems she'll be busy a little while with Miss Petra as she is' she thought bowing again and then heading back through the doorway from the apothecary to the tavern. Of course that explained why Master Menkin wanted everything immaculate today as well as heading to the stronghold with her Katya; some high-up kobolds from Master's village had arrived and this was most likely meetings over such things as trade and the war. But first she had to ready the vegetables and sweet fruits to go with the...

--

When: Dale Reckoning 1355, Summer

Where: Shaman's Tower, Sparta

Evidently we have naked barbarian midgets, I mean a halfling sorry, doing dance/battle routines in the tavern backed by singing tieflings. Who knew? I'm not sure if that's a sign of developing civilization within the clan's territory or a sign of the madness that exists everywhere upon the world. Whatever the case Menkin runs a very organised tavern that's keeping everyone supplied with booze, and me supplied with taxes from the sales of all that booze.

As does our resident woods witch/alchemist Petra who seems to have settle in pretty well despite the move from the Tower here to her own part of the tavern building. I glad to see that, woman is skilled at what she does and I'll admit I was hardly the best host by largely forgetting about her presence while I was there. So making an effort now to make sure the woman's safe and happy...even if Oggy wasn't intent on me doing the same. At least I'm not trying to arrange a 'suitable mate' for the poor woman.

Anyway it was a pleasant meal, turns out those Menkin the Kobold has cooking for him are actually very good cooks, and informative as well. Even just the basic information off Petra about how she's settling in, the condition of the slaves, as well what types of potions she's been selling (and too who) is rather informative of how things are going in the new 'town' area of the stronghold. In that regards I'm fairly pleased with what I'm hearing as it sounds like a nascent market economy is developing in regards potions and alcohol at the very least within the stronghold.

Menkin of course is the more important one in truth; he's high in the ranks of those kobolds up at 'Shiny Iron' under *King* Tucker's rule and wields some degree of influence with them...somehow. Whatever the reason his real dream in life is to run a tavern whatever reason despite being a powerful magic user. Fine by me I'll say; it's a good ambition to go alongside my building plans and as personal goals in life goes for living out in the wilds it's really quite admirable. I also suspect he wants to become a dragon, but that's really a given with kobolds I find and I'm fine with that providing we get the research notes and I find a way to shortcut that polymorph as well. Gods knows we could do with the power boost in the coming years.

Anyway away from that bit of impracticality, and unto to more immediate and pressing matters - organising a larger supply of iron and silver from the kobolds down to here and Zybelin's Drift for processing. I know that the kobolds can forge their own stuff, and it's pretty decent, but they make for kobold and goblin sizes and anything bigger tends to be not the best. We've already got a decent stream coming, but I want to move to larger, and more regular, caravans of goods as our demand is starting to grow as our new furnaces expand as does our numbers of blacksmiths. Or more technically our recovery of a few old stone forges and kilns we dug up from within the valley and whatever we have created ourselves in a few months.

Getting Menkin onboard wasn't particularly hard being honest; one finds self interest is a fine motivator of those of Lawful Evil alignment, and I'm offering decent commission for merely organising trade rather than delivering it himself. He gets coin and investment in his 'magical' tavern, I get more materials to produce weapons for the war effort, and both his friend *King* Tucker and Wifne down in Zybelin's Drift get to reap the benefits of increased trade. That's the funny thing about trade; once you enforce peace by force of arms it suddenly become possible and therefore profitable as it did with the Romans and Mongols on another world in another life. Whatever the case silver, or at least silvered and magical enchanted, weaponry is getting a production run before harvest season if I can help it.

Anyway, bye for now; gotta go as duty calls.

--

When: 1355DR Summer

Where: Lower Slopes, Sparta

Zah's 'loot caravan' from action against the Blood Mists has arrived, along with further news from him that their moving against the other clans they'd faced in battle. Bad news there is that no word on the Furry Fucker beyond he is rallying a host 'to the North' for vengeance upon us. Further bad news is we've no bloody idea where he's rallying said host against us and therefore can't just strike at it in one blow. Good news s far is we're winning, of a sort, as the battle caused the Howling-Peak clan to give in after losing so many warriors and most of their clan veteran warriors. So they'll be joining us and/or the Moonblades in short when the escort returns to Zah from here; likely as he and the others move to obliterate the Skull-Fang's from the face of Faerun.

Still till Wyrmog is dead and buried alongside his giants the threat still hangs over us waiting to strike at any moment if we take the wrong step. Anywho in regards the returned loot caravan; there was a large number of slaves as expected, mostly orcish, young and/or female, in nature. Though, also as usual, there was a decent number of enslaved non-orcs in the shape of Uthgardters, some human caravaners or mercenaries taken over the years, and few halflings and goblins that managed to survive the course of their enslavement.

I've decided to grab any that are strong enough, and willing enough, to serve in the new Slave-Legionnaire Janissaries from this lot and maybe form another squad. Helps in that we just need to focus their hate on the Furry Fucker and his allies rather than all orcs in general and then set them upon those forces where their healthy and trained. The rest are useful skilled labour for the farms or the construction crews maybe.

The younger orc males are going to get inducted in the Legion of course, just like we've done since moving here over half a decade ago. Harsh discipline and training tends to weed out the chaotic and most rebellious amongst them, and then the smarter (and most loyal) ones get admitted into the ranks of my acolytes after a few seasons of what is essentially brainwashing. I'd also call it beating the stupid it out of them, but I have a self-interested stake in the matter so I'm hardly an impartial observer on the matter.

Still the first true generation of clan-orcs trained up in our methods since childhood are just about ready for combat as best I can tell by the regular mock battles and such we've been running every day. Bless you Tome of Wiki and my past life's interest in both modern Earth militaries and military all the way up too those times. Getting them fully equipped of course with everything I want is the next requirement of course, alongside getting clothing and other such things for all these newly arrived slaves. Busy times ahead so good day for now.

--

When: Summer, 1355DR, 2 days plus arrival Zah's Loot Caravan

Where: Keep, Sparta Stronghold

Bad news confirmed it seems; our travelling Uthgardters turned up with the trade caravan from Zybelin's Drift and confirmation of what Ghorza had sent word of. Though of course she never mentioned the two children with the three, or of the little details of how much heavy horse and some magic our foes seem to have. Still not sure what God/Goddess they worship but definitely fire worshippers of some sort, and also very certainly getting backing from someone.

Luskan would be my bet with all the actions from them in past years here in the Crags; another sign the bastards in the Host Tower are out to get us sadly enough. Only positive I can draw from the news is that'll it will take time, seasons most likely, for this warrior-princess to get her act together and gather a sufficient fighting force to bring against us. In a perfect world against the Furry Fucker and they kill each other but in the real world most likely against us. Because that's what Luskan are probably paying them for now isn't it?

Now Rose and Missy were the ones who managed to get our new recruits to really open up, rather than me the big scary orc who is very clearly the clan shaman. It got them to listen to our offers, and then tell us everything in detail about what occurred in their tribe since we crushed their war host last harvest. It's pretty apparent to me they would have folded, and run most likely, if not for the return of this Gwen or Gweyneth or whatever named woman with her mini-mercenary army. I'm sending word to Zah and our allies of what we've learned via familiar just in case they attempt to bring battle to us now.

On the bright side the Crags, and our valley, are hardly ideal ground to deploy heavy cavalry let's say and all I can hope is our own magical support can reduce their casters effectiveness. Also on the bright side, for the 'guests' rather than us, I've rewarded them with a small empty wooden house down in the town and given one of the girls a job/apprenticeship/minion-ship here in the tower due to her magical abilities. Pretty sure she's either a sorcerer or warlock based on what limited abilities she's displayed and what they've explained of them to us. Boy can either join the Auxlia or Lua's brand spanking new Adventurers Guild as giving them a house, official beneficial, and a month's supply of food is a pretty damned good reward to give by clan standards.

Unto spell-casting abilities the Harpells have settled in relatively well and destructive incidents have been kept to a decent minimum in my view. Most of the time their content to either be studying in the UnderKeep, or teaching my future magical minions in the Weave and the various powers of the Arcane Arts. Missy is of course particularly happy of late due to all this study time with myself, them, and Doctor Ned; she's helping me improve a great deal as well considering. So its been...

Gotta go, need to give judgement on a few 'cases' as Shaman/Judge it seems so I'll write later perhaps. Slan.

--

[Karguk 36]

Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

I strode into the main hall of the Keep, after the short stroll across the courtyard from my tower, along with my escort and all dressed to impress as Shaman Karguk once again. Which was as much being dressed as if one was making ready for war at a moment's notice; a Cleric of Ilneval's 'robes of office' so-to-speak being generally considered to be chainmail armour and a sword of some sort. I, of course, had done my best to improve upon that requirement by being both ready for sudden attacks/betrayals/shadow-thingies, and having a cloth surcoat with the Boss's symbol upon it along the rest of my gear.

Today was one of the 'Judgment Days' and that meant dressing to impress by orc terms, and possibly facing some stupid and angry orcs with threats and physical violence. It also required something of a theatrical element I'd found, orcs being orcs, to make the whole thing work – advice from Darth Phargk and Old Breyjuk at different stages in past months. Right now though I was just glad the main hall's braziers were at a nice low burn so the place wasn't exactly sufficiently warm for the summer's night that it was.

Honestly something quite important to a grown orc like myself when clad in layered cloth armour with chainmail over it; as were the others too I suspected as I directed them into their various positions near to the stone chairs in the centre of the large hall. Both Oggy and Old Breyjuk had managed to stick me with this duty, but at least Zah's wife Breyza was forced to endure the stupid with me for the night it seemed, even if she seemed happy sitting upon one of the seats with a contented smile.

"Greetings Shaman Karguk, it is good to see this night"

"And you too Breyza, you got roped into this as well as me I see hmm?" I greeted back with a smile and took my own seat beside her and I motioned at Rose to stand behind me. Missy was busy talking to the Uthgardter girl Vol about the girls abilities and background so, just like Oggy, had found an excuse not to be here with me for the next few hours. Rose though seemed to consider this a proper 'learning experience' for whatever reason and was cheerful enough as she stood behind and to the side of my chair in her full battle armour and weapon at her side.

Breyza grinned "Heh, yeah, Pa wants to go out hunting of course and leave all this to us 'young overeager whelps' he says. So I'm here for him and Zahgorim...and let your Ogrash work on other things like she wanted earlier today as well of course"

I snorted "Aye, she mentioned it. Lucky her..." I glanced at her as she grinned back "...will we get started?"

Of course having Oggy here would look like too much influence coming from myself, what with her being my wife and Priestess of Luthic; Breyza as Zah's mate then technically represented her own husband and father, along with females, even if only as advisor to myself; this way it showed to the rest of the clan my words had the full weight of the clan alongside that of the former Thunderblades as well. Politics were everything even in clans such as ours...especially in clans such as ours perhaps after the sudden growth in only a few short years from a small clan to four-made-one essentially.

It was something of a reflection in miniature I found of why we had to pull out almost a full 'panel' when something big and/or really stupid within the clan. Unlike those rare occasions this 'session' had only attracted a minority of the clan and a few vassals; mostly those involved or related, or just those wanting to see what was to occur. Owing that Breyza merely shrugged in response along with a 'whenever you wish' affirmative. I sighed, resting my still sheathed longsword on the stone front with one hand on the hilt as the other waved at my Red Branch Knight/Bodyguard nearby.

"Kay...Hreshgk, let's get this started and see what we can do to fix whatever needs fixing"

"Sure thing Boss" was the response as the plated armoured paladin strode away from us a moment into the milling crowd of clan-orcs and brought forward two groups, squabbling families and their two 'happily married' children – so happily married that the clan itself was complaining about them to Oggy and Breyza. I resisted groaning as the little cluster of idiots nearly broke into a brawl between them as they came together before my 'seat of judgment' of sorts. I waved for them to stop. They keep pushing and snarling at each other even at my motions, and words from Hreshgk.

"Oh for fuck sake..." I muttered as the whole thing started to escalate and then snarled at them in my 'Angry Shaman' tone "OI! CALM THE FUCK DOWN! IF YA'LL CAN'T BE CIVIL FOR ONE GODS DAMNED TALK THEN I'LL HAVE EACH OF YE WHIPPED TILL YE CAN! SO SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!"

Every one of them shut their stupid mouths and alternated between glaring at each other and glancing fearfully at me "Right, now isn't that better...so here we have an example of why you lot got dragged before us today. Long story made short; you're pissing everyone off with your constant fighting Grovk, Maghra, and all you associated relatives. So that's disrupting the unity of the clan WHEN WE'RE FIGHTING A WAR MIGHT I REMIND YOU ALL so it's going to stop NOW! You've been given warnings already about this from Chief Breyjuk so what makes it stop I ask?"

Grovk and Maghra were a nice example of the problems that can occur when you place a sufficiently strong willed female with an idiot orc male whose not much stronger than her at the idea of parents, and then find out they don't like each other much at all. Or that the driving force behind the idea, the veteran warriors Vork and Tinioc, get killed on the battlefield, or get roaring drunk and fall off a wall. Even if Oggy was happy that idiot had taken said nosedive it had caused the fact everyone else in the two 'families' basically hated each other; and had been from two different clans before being inducted into Sparta four and three years ago respectively. After listen to several minutes of shouting, accusations and mothers arguing with each other over their children and whelps I gave up and had Rose bang her shield off the stone floor with a loud clanging noise.

"Breyza, any suggestions before I say something?" I asked glancing at my 'advisor' with a questioning look upon my face. She snorted and just glared at the squabbling idiots before us.

"No, other than don't go easy on them. Many females are sick of all the constant noise these idiots make with all their bickering"

I sighed and looked back down at the two families "Right you heard the Chieftain's Wife, we're all sick of your constant fighting...so here's the choices; 1) You get one more chance - but if you fuck up this time I'm exiling the lot of you, whelps excluded, and that ends the problem..."

Part of the problem with these things was 'Justice' was an incredible subjective word. In the end what matter was the satisfaction of the societies demand for its own form of 'Justice' so that faith was kept in command systems, and that social order was maintained by the rulings. After all the needs of the many out ranked the needs of the few as the story goes. Plus if I fucked up trying to impose my own morality on things then knifes in the dark may follow if I pissed off enough clan-orcs...assuming there wasn't a revolt against such 'Injustices' as they'd see them. So now I had to get...creative...with solutions to problems; in this case giving the 'Worst Case' that wouldn't be accept as the first choice, and then giving the more palatable one(s). I waved them to stay silent as I plowed on.

"...SHUT UP THAT LOT OF YE. 2) We end the marriage here and now, it ain't workin' I think everyone agrees..." the faint roar of approval from those present indicated the support of this "...see. For the Good of the Clan I say ye should end it and make fresh starts. Grovk, go get yourself either a more traditional female, or a more willing one...the relatives of Maghra will pay a price of either four spears, a chicken or six gold coins for the ending of the mating. SHUT AND LET ME FINISH! For all the trouble ye've caused Grovk your on double duty for the next two seasons and must hand over to the clan a tenth of any loot you take in that time. Maghra...you need tempering so you're getting induced into Archer Auxlia and getting posted to one of the vassal villages. Again a tenth of your coins or other barter for doing such duty will be kept back as punishment"

"I'm with whelp Holy One what are we..." was shouted up at me from the female, though it seemed that option two was in some with looking to mollify both parties. I held up my hand to cut her off.

"Then sort out amongst yourselves before he's born which of your families are raise them, the other can pay a weregild for the support of the whelp. Or you can hand he/she over as a ward of the clan and both of ye pay half the cost each till the child comes of age. So which is it?"

Of course it was option number two; neither teenager liked each other, nor did the families with the war buddies gone, and this give both sides an 'honourable' out for ending the marriage. Well...at least ending it before it turned into a blood feud between both parties when one spouse killed the other after one round too many by Grovk. Or one of the many other clan-orcs angered by their constant bickering took matters into what would swiftly become bloody hands. At least this way I got both of them out of stronghold till things calmed down and everyone forgot about the problem.

"NEXT!"

Oh for fucks sake, these two bloody idiots again...

"Oh for Ilnevals sake...Sell him the godsdamned goat Dromj, just sell him the fucking goat and stop bloody fighting over it! You tried selling it to everyone else and nobody wants the bloody trouble..." came out of my mouth even before the two idiots could say anything. They started to object as a round of faint laughter erupted from the back of the room ...I groaned and glared at both of them.

"AND YOU! JAJY-UGH! Pay him four gold coins for it...I DON'T CARE...this bullshit has gone on too fucking long. Goat's yours when you give Hreshgk here the barter. If we catch you doin' that again here in the stronghold you'll be bloody whipped you bloody idjit, even iff'n it is your goat! Yes even...IT's UN-FUCKING-NATURAL IDIOT! So both of you can PISS OFF NOW! PROBLEM SOLVED! NEXT!"

Laughter, jeering and general supportive thumping of feet off the stone floors indicated that I'd come forward with the right solution there. Dromj was too useful a scout, and Jajy-Ugh similarly a hunter even if thick as two planks, to be let come to blows over this insanity between them. Even if Jajy-Ugh was an old bloody weirdo that most of the clan didn't like, they left him be; old orc weirdos tended to live to be old orc weirdos after all due to skills and strength.

Especially stupid ones like he seemed to be. Thankfully he was grunting happily enough as he handed the coins, one more than Dromj had wanted according to everyone I'd spoken too, and the next problem case was brought forward. One very nervous looking member of the human auxlia on one side with a scratched face, and on the other one of the older females of the clan dragging her half-orc daughter in that way I just recognised...

I glanced first at Breyza, who shrugged with an amused snort, then behind me at Rose who was frowning at the man going "Your Lordship" in front of us as I spoke to Rose "Okay what now?"

"He's married back home Master Karguk and well...the girl there is with child now" she whispered back and I groaned. Oh bloody joy, another one. How to sort this one now?

I turned my head back to the petitioners and started the questioning first. This was going to be a long night I noted seeing several dozen others entering the main hall apparently with issues to be solved...

--

[Missasri 23]

Stronghold of Sparta

The girl was terrified Missasri could tell as she led her through the main gate of the stronghold and towards the Shaman's Tower. Of course she'd been visibly scared yesterday as well, but she' had her friend and sister along with two children to keep up her spirits somewhat with the false safety of numbers. Now though the girl was on her own, and apparently racked with nerves as she glanced at Missasri, their armed escort, and at the practice fights ongoing in the centre of the moonlit courtyard.

Understanding the girl's fear she reached out and patted her shoulder, along with a smile, to offer encouragement...even if it initially seemed to make the girl jump at the touch and look at her fearfully. To Missasri's relief after a moment the girl, Vol, let out a breath and gave a tremulous smile back in return as the guards at the gates stood out of the way as they approached the entrance to the Shaman's Tower.

At this hour the Keep was a hive of activity, even a few groups of non-orcs being escorted towards the Keep where Mas...Karg, was likely busy shouting and roaring at a bunch of idiots for the stupid things they'd done. All of which was something Missasri herself had no interest in being stuck through for another session; just like Mistress Ogrash had arranged to do other things for the evening and night as well. Rose had an interest for some reason, and Missasri gave the red-haired girl all her silent thanks for having done so!

"Just up these stairs and into the room on right" she told the Uthgardt girl gently as they entered the Tower proper and moved towards the stone stair after a short walk. Thankfully the place wasn't as packed as it had been only a few seasons ago; most of the lessons and training having been moved to the UnderKeep as more of it was excavated and some orcs moved into larger huts in the 'town' below. Now the Shaman's Tower had become more of a home for her and the others, alongside the other 'higher up' mages such as Doctor Ned and Nimmil, and a teaching area for the more intelligent students.

Or, in this case, for having a nice quiet place to drink and have food with this girl away from her companions and try easing her fears of where she now was; a scared sorcerer or warlock, as Vol seemed to be, was best kept relaxed before trying to learn or teach them magic. Just what the room they walked into held, it was a bit small but a table had been setup with a large platter of meat, bread and fruit along with wooden goblets for the barrel of strong ale and three bottles of brandy sitting beside it. Missasri grinned as she entered; this was a much better choice than going to the main hall and listening to tales of the strange and unnatural. Why she'd even heard the two Harpells were going to attend and look at the whole thing...well that was two more reasons not to attend right there!

"All this...is, am I..." the girl managed to get out nervously, eyes flickering to the food and drink laid out before her like it was a feast worthy of a noble. Which for it probably was Missasri mused having seen the emaciated frame under that fur clad form; Vol and her friends likely wouldn't have taken the risk of approaching Rose's home unless they were on the verge of starving to death. Missasri chuckled lightly and motioned the girl towards the table.

"Yes dear, you can eat and drink as much as you wish to fill your belly. Don't rush to eat it all in one go though as we've plenty of time to enjoy it"

"But the...my sister and the children..." she stuttered back fidgeting and looking around at the food, then back at Missasri, before glancing hungrily at the food. Missasri patted her on the shoulders and almost pushed the girl into the chair.

"Fear not, your sister and the children are being given their own welcome feast in your new home, and that boy of yours drinks with the warriors of the auxlia that he'll be fighting with. And yours is here in the tower as that is where you'll be working and learning in the seasons to come..." she grinned at the girl "...that and a few of us enjoy the treat of having all this to enjoy of course. Good food, good booze and good company are hard to come by in the wilds aren't they?"

She herself had suggested this to Karg, and the purpose of all of this; show the girl that she was safe here, the benefits of serving too, and see what she said while drunk and away from the others. The boy was a warrior and had been loath to say anything, while Vol here despite her magic seemed the most nervous and likely to tell if there was more. Plus it would help build trust in Missasri herself with the girl, then through her with Karg and the rest of the household; that would cut down on troubles down the line she hoped. Of course the fact she herself got to relax and enjoy a few a nights free drinking was an added benefit too of course...

"You started without me! Boo! I say Boo at thee for that!" the voice of the short gnome Nimmil greeted her just as the warm burning tingle of the brandy slid down her throat to chase the cheese she'd just swallowed. Missasri gave an amused snort as she turned back towards the doorway through which the 'Dread Gnome' entered beside the much taller female form of the alchemist Petra. Amusingly though the shorter gnome almost seemed taller as she strode in with a proud gait while the shy human woman, shoulders slumped, gave a shy smile a little wave in greeting. Behind them, head down and hands clasped together before her was the young girl who served the kobold Menkin...whose name eluded Missasri for the moment...hmmm wasn't it...

"Ha ha, we've only just arrived Nimmil, Petra, so it's not like we've managed to enjoy much. Now this is Vol, formerly of the Sky Pony Tribe, and now going to be learning alongside us. Like young...Feuryon isn't it?"

"Yes Honoured Mistress Missy, this one thanks you remembering her lowly name, how may I serve you this night" gushed in rapid succession from the girl's mouth as she almost tripped over herself as she started bowing to Missasi. Nimmil laughed loudly at the actions, before grabbing a flagon and walking over to the ale barrel to get a drink. Missasri blinked a moment as the alchemist Petra's hands fluttered at the younger human girl.

"Now, now Fueryon, Menkin's sent you here to relax for the night, and to provide female company to myself and Lady Missy. So don't be like that...isn't...isn't that right Lady Missy?" the alchemist asked with a nervous little laugh, but questioning eyes. Missari nodded and smiled back at both as she waved them to the table where the Uthgardt girl was frozen with a hunk of bread and meat held in her hands due to the sudden entrance of the others.

"Yes, Petra it is, sit, sit both of you...eat and drink as much as you like while we talk and give Vol here a welcoming to the Tower"

Bringing non-orc females to this private little feast was really the only way to avoid freaking out the Utgardht girl...at least till she was drunk enough not to care much. Tris and Lua would arrive later on in the night, after their training, but that was for the best with the boisterous nature of the Drow woman; best to be somewhat drunk when they arrived to ignore their antics Missasri had found. Petra of course was ideal for that; shy, humble and friendly in a way that would hopefully relax their new human recruit.

The Kobold's slave-girl was to be sent here to learn a few basic cantrips of late in some deal between the tavern owner and Missasri's Karg so she was interested in knowing more of the girl. Plus...it was as far as she could go with her influence to allow the girl a night and morning to enjoy herself and relax before returning to her role as a slave. All in all it was an odd collection of women she found herself sitting at the table with as she and Nimmil encouraged the others to eat, drink and talk. Even if at the start it was the was the loud boastful gnome who did most of the talking...all about her great deeds of the past and what fame she would achieve in the future...alongside Missasri herself as the ale and brandy began to flow freely amongst the five of them...

--

[Interlude 05]

--

[Vol, Initiate of the Tower]

It was mortifying, terrifying, but also rather pleasant in a strange way was she allowed the orc's slave-girl to wash her back and neck in this large metal tub of warm soapy water that smelt of flowers. Face flushed in confused embarrassment Vol just kept rubbing at her feet with her hands under the water as she followed the girl's, Mara her name, instructions. Truth be told it was all rather enjoyable in comparison to the rare cold river she and the others might get to bath in for a few moments while still being on guard for attackers.

She'd also admit part of the queasy feeling she felt right now was as much due her eating and drinking last night as if she had been at a feast with the chieftain of the clan rather than in this terrible fortress of orcs. Or the rather bizarre fortress where she was being treated as if she was the Chieftain's or Shaman's daughter since she had arrived and they had discovered her magical abilities. Gods above she'd gotten foolishly, stupidly, drunk last night, so much so that she only vaguely remembered the majority of it.

Though the part where she'd puked upon herself and the floor she remembered all too clearly as the girl behind her washed the dirt and other filth off of her. They'd taken her, now stinking she'd admit, furs away the moment after she'd been escorted in the room and being practically shoved into this 'bath' as they called it. Just like the other girl Feuryon, who was in another tube beside them with this Mara's sister helping her scrub off Vol could see. But, unlike Vol, the slave-girl she'd drank with last night was clearly luxuriating at her own, ordered, treatment her; even as she chatted, albeit hoarsely, with the other slave-girl named Kethri.

"There we go, all clean Miss Vol, just stand up and let me help you dry yourself and get you into some clean robes" the cheerful girl behind her announced after a seeming eternity. She just followed directions, standing there completely helpless, and feeling like an idiot, as 'Mara' rubbed her skin with dry clothes first, then having her sit in a chair and begin to 'comb' Vol's hair. Somewhat painfully for a few tugs, but she endured it like a Sky Pony girl should till the tangled mess upon her head had been reworked into a format that this Mara wanted at the instruction of 'Lady Missy'.

'Oh thank the Gods' she told herself as the sandals slid unto her feet and she allowed the girl to place the grey robed one piece over her head and cover her body. It was only as she secured the belt around her waist that she noticed the crude orc clan symbol on the front of the robe. She froze a moment...but said nothing after a moment's thought; the robe was comfortable and warm and it would be madness to insult an Orc Shaman for the gift. Within the Sky Pony that would mean a painful death for the one offering insult.

"Now there we go Miss Vol! You look a true beauty; I'm sure your friend Sidr will surely be overjoyed to see you as you are!"

Vol flushed and fidgeted at that. She had let her mouth run far too much last night after a few drinks it seemed, even down to what she wished to...well, oh God's would Sidr like her as she was now? All cleaned of the dirt and filth of the nightmarish journey here...and now smelling all nice? He'd like that right after all they'd been through together?

Unfortunately...thankfully, she had little more time to dwell on such things before she was being guided out into the grey coloured stone hallway of the large old tower she had spent the past night and morning in. A large gloomy tower that was filled with orcs; some big, well armoured and armed, while others were younger and clad in something like the robe she herself was clad in.

She tried to avoid meeting any of their eyes by keeping her eyes focused on the ground before her as she descended the curving steps to the level below. It was hard not to shiver visibly with fear as they were brought before the large chainmail clad, and utterly terrifying, form of the Orc Shaman. Orcs were savage foes of the True People. Shamans were often cruel as they were powerful even amongst her folk. Perhaps the girl Feuryon had the right idea by prostrating at his feet since he was clearly irritated at something.

Still she had committed herself to the tradition grovelling bow to one of our own people's great spirit-walkers or shaman. He glared down upon her, surrounded by his armoured warriors, speaking in a rumbling voice of authority that could order anything of her at any moment if she offended him. So she greeted him in as respectful, meek and obedient a tone as she could muster "Honoured Shaman, how may I serve you?"

--

[Hreshgk the Red Handed]

He ignored the human females as they grovelled before the Boss, seeking his favour or whatever it was they wanted from him. Hopefully it wasn't seeking to be his mate...because Gods above was it hard to guard an orc with death-wish for wanting to mate with strong-willed females who could wield powerful magics. The Boss was crazy smart like a fox as Clan Shaman but when it came to females the brain got shut down as he wanted to sheath his sword in the most dangerous of fucking places.

Even Hreshgk was wary of annoying Priestess Ogrash, bad things could happen to those that did that, but the Boss had jumped at the chance to take her as a mate. Followed by the lunatic female warrior priestess Ghorza who'd attempted to wipe out the clan when they'd come to the valley and seized this stronghold...and then there was his third mate Missy, the fearful human female magic user who'd tried to wipe out the clan as well with powerful magics.

Evidently magic wielding witches who tried to kill him were what lit his torch for whatever reason; Hreshgk at least was wise enough to keep his mouth shut and not tempt any of them to unleash that power on him. After all he'd seen what the weakest of the three had done to that Fire Giant's balls before she'd slain him in defence of the Boss...just like all the rest of clan warriors. All they could pray was Krazy Karguk lived a long life and kept his even crazier females on a leash. Chief Zahgorim of course was supposedly super glad that his loyal friend the shaman had taken those arrows that could have been his.

"Hreshgk, you're going to take charge of the Janissaries for training in short right?"

He nodded "Yes Boss, they fought decen' enough in the field I guess but need beat a bit more stamina and skill into them, and do me patrol for the day"

The Boss nodded and motioned at the two females, the kobold's from the tavern slave and the Uthgardt savage "Grand then, you escort these two back to the tavern and where I've put Vol's family are, will'ya now? I've to sit with Chief Breyjuk, then discuss matters in the UnderKeep with our magical...guests"

Hreshgk brought gauntleted fist up to his plate covered chest as the Boss sighed at the last moment as he mentioned the mad human mages aiding the Horde in its righteous cause "Course Boss, anything else you need?"

"Nah, if you've any problems or need anything for your squads just send word to me"

Order. Hreshgk liked that as he ended the salute and led the obedient humans behind himself and the two new trainees as 'Red Branch Knights' in the form Jurn and Utbor. When he'd been younger, in the few years before the rise of Chief Zahgorim and Shaman Karguk, he'd had to struggle with the fact he'd been...odd...in his idea of the world. Then the Chief and Shaman had come and brought order and discipline to the clan and he'd found an emptiness he'd felt suddenly filled. Rules were to be made and followed. The good of the clan lay in aiding in each other and purging those who cared only for themselves, or were too stupid and cruel, from their ranks so all could work together towards a greater purpose.

Now the clan grew strong as he grew strong; loyalty, honour, sacrifice and service would lead them to victory in Ilneval's name. Things were different due to this he found as he walked down the slope towards the buildings below. The clan had grown strong, forming a great horde to fight the vile humans and elves who stole everything that they could set their eyes upon. Now warriors marched in battle order, the other creatures of the valley brought to a firm heel, and the clan's whelps could safe and strong with this new den. He himself had the magic flaming sword at his belt as a show of his devotion and loyalty to that cause; one had used on foe and traitor alike at the command of his Shaman.

He did not say much to the female as they descended the slope, nor did they do more than a few brief phrases amongst themselves in truth, which was good as he ever watched for threats. This place may have strong walls and brave warriors but one never could tell when foes would come upon them as the shadow demons and their human masters had shown when they'd attacked the great conclave. Or when the Warlord Wyrmog had betrayed the clan and their allies in the Moonblades and Nighttombs; he resisted the urge to clench his hand around his sword hilt. Traitors and oath breakers he could never tolerate in truth, even as a child when his Ma and Pa had found such thinking of his strange but even more-so now that he knew that his way was the better way...

--

[The Girl with Silver Hair]

...she was better than them. She knew it...they didn't...as she slid under the sword slash by bending backwards at the waist as she slide under the blow. Twist, blade in the wrong direction, slam hilt of training sword into foes unarmoured crotch. Scream of pain and collapse of enemy forward indicated time to moved she pivoted again, hands and training sword into the dirt of the ground and slamming her feet up firmly together into her opponents jaw and sending the orc sprawling backwards with a grunt...

Weakness! Finish him!

...a roar of anger and swing of blade from enemy's friend as he dashed in reckless with a battlecry. A mistake as she rolled and the blade slammed into the spot where she'd just been. Ground and dirt were scratchy on her skin but the magic of the spell held firm as she came out of the roll and brought into the wooden sword into a two handed grip. Move, extend, flow...and no hesitation. Wood meet the back of the orcs helmet with such force as to send him slamming into the ground unconscious beside his comrade just as she fell into a guard stance and waited for the last foe. He hesitated, bracing shield and gripping at spear.

Attack now Hound!

Foolish she noted should have struck there, but expected as he spent too much time leering at her body at the start of the spar and was now confused. As she'd thought; foolishness, so move-dash forward, twisting her body so that she glided down on one knee with blade extended on the upward held hand while the other hand moved downward into the dry dusty sand and soil of the training yard. Pain as bare flesh skims off soil and stone...

Pain and Fear do not matter! You Serve!

...irrelevant; she was His Hound, she moves and disregards it. Grab, move, flow...let loose into face of orc. He roars blinded and she blocked now with the blade as flowed up and to the side, deflecting the slash rather taking it head on.Enemy blind. Dodge left. Dodge right. Opening. Slam blade into joint of knee with maximum effort. Howl of pain, step back to avoid flailing as enemy falls to other knee. Enemy tired, step in, block, step on shield, move...slam foot into face...airborne now a moment, brace, feet touch ground...steady again. Twirl and ready into to guard status.

Strength of Mind, Strength of Body! Even with weak human flesh!

Gauntleted hands clap.

"Good. Good. They maybe on fuckin' runts but four and fast is good" her trainer told her with a grunt of amusement as she shifted into a ready stance with the hilt of her training weapon held between her hands and point resting on the ground.

She remained silent as the old orc called forward the female healer and a helper to wake and heal those she sparred against. Her own body required no healing, mere scrapes and bruises was all; painful yes but she would endure without complaint till more training had been completed. So she watched as her opponents were dragged off the field, and as one of her God-Master's servants exited with some females of her kind just behind him. Not that they matter; only the God-Master mattered and her Sisters at his feet as they herald His Glory into the world.

Praise be Ilneval his hound mentally cried may all his foes be crushed and perish!

Praise be Luthic! Maybe this wretched slave be worthy to serve her even in this wretched human form!

His Servants must grow strong! The Time will soon be at hand!

'May all fall before him as Luskan burn and the foe fall to their knees in defeat!' she prayed silently and solemnly. Luskan. The wicked city that had sent her and her now-sister-hounds souls to be eaten by demons her in the wild. A place that had killed the old weak and innocent girl who had cared only for silly things now destroyed. Weak and naive. But not anymore, that Human Female was dead and only the Yet-too-be-Named Godslave of the Silver Hair remained. Her blessed God-Master's hand had crushed the demons that taken her and her hound-sisters souls as theirs. Now they were saved. Now they would serve!

Alliances will be forged! Enemies shall fall!

The Gods and Goddesses of her birth had not saved her no matter how she had prayed. Wicked, weak and hypocritical creatures she knew now that she had been reborn. Letting her being devoured no matter how much she had prayed to them...as the others had wailed and begged till their tongues were torn from the their mouths and obscenities etched agonizingly into their souls. Better to be a beast, a loyal Hound, to the ones who had shown their strength and claimed them from Hell than weakling deities who pretended to care. Their God-Master was honest with her; they were but tools to His Glory and Plans; nothing more, nothing less. No false promises, no lies of hope. How hated those things and the evil they had brought to her former life.

Prove your strength! Rise!

But now she was home. The Time was coming she dreamed as she prostrated before the God-Master's throne each night. A great test was coming in the years to come and she and her new Sisters would earn a place at His feet by their strength and loyalty. And that den of wickedness that would have damned her to the Pit would burn in her righteous vengeance. The Liches would Burn. The Pirates who had enslaved and sold her and those who stood in their defence would fall. The wicked Gods they served or offered lies and false hope yet damned innocents as they preached them would fall. She was an Orc now, in soul if not in flesh and all would kneel before her God-Master when the time came. Justice would be hers and her Sisters in the days to come; with fire and fury.

'Praise be His Name! Praise be Her Name!' She thought as the power pulsed through her tattooed flesh and the symbols of her servitude burnedat her thoughts. And she was happy...

--

[Zahgorim 20]

Illuskan War-camp, Neverwinter Woods/Crags

Things had gone well, and yet not well, throughout the last season Zahgorim found as his slave Sylfine aided him in getting into, and tightening the straps of, of his blessed plate armour. She did so with a quick and practiced ease of course after many seasons in the role, and soon he was placing on his gauntlets and moving to ensure it was comfortable enough to move and fight in. After all it was rare enough to get out of the blasted thing like this day to take his concubine so as to relieve his stress from being feeling trapped in said armour all the time. And being amidst these blasted caves and forests as well of course; hunting down their foes was tiring and dull, as well as dangerous, now that their war host had dispersed. Picking up his sword belt and beginning to fasten it around his waist he glanced at his half-elf.

"Dress and arm yourself now, you'll be with me for the day"

"Of course Master, thank you Master" she said bowing but he could hear the good cheer hidden in her tone as she did so. His half-elf was rather enthusiastic about being clad as a warior of sorts he'd found since the first campaign in the valley in the Bugbears.

As shown now as she moved with purpose and speed to place on her tunic and leggings, followed by the chainmail over these lighter vestments, while he watched in this part of the cave he had taken as his own. A rather small place but he had sent his other concubine Wyrmogha back to the stronghold now that her use for drawing out her kin's allies to battle was no longer useful, so the space wasn't too cramped really.

Of course Sylfine would be unable to wear said armour again in a season or two now that she was with whelp thanks to his efforts and his friends' magic. He grinned to himself at those thoughts as he watched her place on her boots and secured the chainmail with a belt. Who would have guessed that it was that fact that had managed to active the part of the Holy Magic Staff of the Gods...he snorted at that, it really needed a better name than that in his view...dedicated to the Cave Mother?

'Well it should make sense now shouldn't it? Cave Mother wants whelps and we used magic to help me make a whelp on a nearly elf, so that'd please her by conquering the females of other creatures right?' he mused to himself. Evidently the Ancient Shaman Pharghk agreed with that logic and that each new 'blessing' would need to be unlocked by performing a task that pleased each of the Gods and their ways over their divine domains and ways. Zahgorim grinned again. He was just that awesome to figure it all out...sorta figure it out...well he helped!

Still there wasn't time to bask in his own awesomeness so he handed his half-elf her weapon, an old elven sword-scimitar thing they'd found on the march and cleaned, and strode past his guards and towards the cave entrance. All of this had once been the Skull-Fang's stronghold of sorts, though in truth they'd only migrated here recently, and it still reeked of the fight to drive them from it only two ten-days ago. It'd been a glorious, albeit nasty and attrition based, fight as he and his allies had stormed the crude palisade and slopes before fighting their way into the caves into the hills and finally breaking them. Some had fled further into the depths of the caves, or into the forests, but his warriors now had those paths sealed and guarded so the fight there had ended for now...and hopefully for good as well as they had other concerns to deal with.

It was a clear night outside as he exited the cave and into the war-camp proper that had been established on the site of the former Skull-Fang camp. Which, in itself, had been built upon a large goblin war-camp as best they could tell; or so judging from the number of goblin slaves, and types of old discarded tools and weapons deeper inside the caves. Not that such things mattered to him over much, other than indicating that this wasn't the ideal place to use as a stronghold for the long run obviously enough. For the moment though it was a useful location with a nearby water supply and a large amount of game and forage in the woods and hills around them. The benefits of which filled the air with their smells as boar and deer roasted on spits her inside the palisade and wall of war-wagons.

"Holy One, Chief Jernak, seems I'm late to the feasting" he greeted as he walked towards the camp fire where the aging high priest of the One Eye sat with the Moonblades Chieftain around a boar cooking upon a spit. His escort of guards merely joined those of Shaman and other Chieftain around them in a crude circle while Sylfine knelt beside and just behind him with her forehead and hands pressed to the ground.

"Ah, young Zahgorim, no your far from late Chieftain, hunger had driven these old bones out early from the den I fear..." the old one replied as Zahgorim sat upon one of the stone 'seats' around the fire. Jernak nodded in his direction as he cut a chunk of meat from the roast hog on the spit "...perhaps as it has with your own self?"

"Heh, sadly yes Holy One, now that the smell hits me I'll admit it may have made me hurry here" he replied cheerfully, taking out his own dagger and reaching forward to cut off a haunch from it. It tasted as good as it smelled he found as he took a bite from the haunch of meat and allowed the old one to talk first and offer whatever plan he had for the coming days.

"Ah, then let us enjoy the fruits of our success as we plan for the battles to come..." the old one stated easily as he looked out at the camp beyond. At the two half dead prisoners hanging spread-eagled not too far away between three sets of wooden poles that the Skull-Fang had either used for this very purpose or for skinning animals. Possibly both Zahgorim expected "...even if they are likely to be less glorious ones than we'd have wished when we marched forth against the Heretic"

Jernak across the fire from Zahgorim shrugged awkwardly in his armour "At least now when he does come against us he will have lost the support of those clans south of my own clan and Zahgorim's Holy One, as it seems re-gathering his scattered war-host is proving more difficult for him than he would have wished. I'd call this a good season of raiding and fighting so far"

"Aye it has, but it's not over yet and we can't rest either..." Zahgorim answered, swallowing the chunk of meat and taking a tankard of beer off one of his bodyguards. He nodded at the two battered figures, a human male and female, hanging on their 'racks' "...so my I ask what you learned from those ones Holy One?"

The old shaman snorted in disgust "Pah, it was just as our hunters expected...a bunch of fools who thought yer scouts just a tiny warband and easy pickings. But they do bring word of useful things, most useful of all the location of their fellow would be bandits. It seems wars and some great darkness, as they put it, drives many weaker creatures north up the river and into these forests...and those two and their fellows had followed them as the wolf follows the deer"

"Are there in any great numbers?"

"Nay young Jernak, four or five hands worth it seems, many of those who have fled from having to fighting like the weak and cowardly humans they are..." Zahgorim nodded in agreement with the disgust evident in the old shaman's voice at such cowardice "...but best we move to destroy them in force before they grow aware of our numbers and the loss of a fifth of their number. We have perhaps another night, or perhaps two, before their fellows notice...as they had planned to raid others and were to be away from their camp in some old ruins.

What is somewhat more wariness is of the nearness of some human priests and cultists to one of their gods further south who have enforced demands of tribute upon these bandit fools for allowing them camp near to them. It would be best to discover the location of these foes and scour them from our lands in case they were to ally with our Uthgardt foes, or just to seek dominion over these lands in their own name and become yet another foe when they gather strength"

Zahgorim agreed with a nod "Well if we are to scour these lands of our foes who follow the Warlord Wyrmog it would be best not to allow another foe appear to threaten our lands. Still there villages near, or there shall be as we advance and..."

The old shaman gave an amused snort "And ye wish to do as ye did with those ye conquered before, both ye youngins and yer strangeness. But yes I'll offer no objection to ye offerin' them to yield like they were a clan of proper people. As long as all bow before us I care not. We can even slay these fool bandits and show their bodies as a symbol of our strength to these folk of...New Leaf I think it was...by slaying those who are after, and plannin' on, raidin' from what those weaklings were saying..." the ancient orc sneer "...they held nothing back I'll guarantee"

'Yes I doubt they did' Zahgorim thought but left it unsaid "It's best we sent a large hunting warbands forward first then to attack and secure the ruins Holy One, the wagons are too slow and would give these humans warning. To say nothing of the elves we have not seen but hovered near us in the previous journey into these forests. We have good supplies of food and water here and know little of what is before us"

"Agreed Chief Zahgorim, a hundred of my clan's warriors perhaps? They are the better scouts and prefer to fight in lands such as this and underground unlike this lock step of yer two clans and..."

--

When: Mid-Late Summer, 1355 DR, ie bloody hot sunshine time

Where: Shaman's Tower, Sparta

It's bloody hot. It's important to note that fact I find. Because it is really bloody hot and it's not fun to march around in armour all bloody day. Even the past few nights have been too fucking hot. Magic helps I'll admit but its bloody wasteful as well in my opinion. Oh for someone inventing air conditioning and telling that useless technophobe god of technology Gond to piss off with himself. Or even better for one of our lot to invent it and let that imbecile deity remain over humanity and screwing them over by his divine stupidity. I'm quite happy for us to have functioning gunpowder equivalents and them not to, all things being equal. The only fair fight is the one I lose after all I say!

Anyway getting sidetracked, sorry, first I suppose is arcane studies and Harpells. One nice thing about working with Doctor Ned and Nimmil is that they have got nice cold based spells maintained in our merry study area and I was more than happy to invest time into studies with them. That and ride herd on Harkle Harpell after the incident with his attempts at doing something similar - good news; nobody was seriously injured even if it took hours to clear out the temporary winter wonderland. All in all it was further proof that I was right to make sure their experiments took place in the nice *magic resistant* walled rooms of the UnderKeep.

The other one, Bella her name, is far more sane but still prone to 'accidents' and such in her experiments even if they are far more controlled in nature. That is why I make them provide up write briefs now on what the hell their planning on doing with magic that make go BOOM during said practice.Still there a methodology in regards 'formalised magical education' here in Sparta even if it's very much compressed in nature compared to the standard versions in existence. Honestly most of which seems to involve a great deal of menial labour and begging before getting to the actual learning part as best I can tell. I will say my attempts, after five years of beating literacy into any I can, and my printing presses starting to come on line properly is good to see.

Well that and the (admittedly crappy) paper production starting to show results with enough of the stuff to use said old timey wooden presses on. So the past two to three weeks/ten-days have been spent upon write of the basic 'Do's and Don'ts Of Basic Wizardry' along with simple details from my Tome of Wiki. Technically necromantic stuff in terms of body drawings and details I'll admit; though damned if creating that block irritating to make, even with magic and a craftsman's help. Now calling it a 'Book' is somewhat unfair, insulting even, compared to ones I so loved in my past life since it's more a collection of pamphlets by our 'study group' thrown together on a general sampling of what I'd call relevant subjects.

I've got the first one here beside me, shoddy quality all around but it's perfectly legible in a mixture of orcish script and crude print drawings for our 'Monster Compendium' of sorts. Though I'd suspect humans and elves (Dwarves next edition!) might object to that classification and their place alongside details of strengths and weaknesses of what creatures our warriors might encounter. Like evil zombie plants that take over farmsteads and the dangers of undead chickens and other affected livestock. Though I'd expect many of our younger acolytes will want them for the crude nudey pictures judging from the reactions of a few of my minions and wives. Missy had right giggle at them alongside Rose and Bella Harpell. I dread when Lua gets her hands on a copy honestly. This is supposed to be serious educational literature people!

Regardless I'm happy with the final 'product' after only a few years to get to this stage. Even if were hardly going to be mass producing them anytime soon I have to say even getting together a few dozen 'textbooks' between now and the Winter is a major achievement in my view. Better even than building my magical battle tanks project and the failed canon project; though the Bells have their uses I'll admit thanks to the blessings upon them. So totally not a failure in their entirety I say!

It was a learning experience let's say, and the next time I attempt such in coming years I'll have a starting point on what not to do I suppose. It's also a nice side to my own arcane learning getting some serious during the production of said educational material. While I'm not exactly brimming with spells I know the fact is my understanding of the various components and how they interact with the Weave the Laws of Physics has grown. It's rather interesting actually so that might explain my willingness to learn relatively quickly compared to other less interesting stuff.

Another interesting thing has been the chance to have something of a political debate, or discussion of the geopolitical (oh how I miss words like this!) situation, about the Savage Frontier and the North between our magical round table of sorts. One thing we can all agree on is that Luskan are not nice people and everyone's fine with us fighting them; or at least not caring of us any more than usual for 'savage' orc hordes. Which is fine by me honestly, 'civilized folk' hate orcs for very valid reasons even if their just as bad or worse towards non-*insert 'civilized race' here* creatures and humanoids. Still I'm keeping at convincing them (and through them their family) that we totally not their enemies and overall a benefit to the area. Which isn't hard being honest - mostly since everyone else are assholish bastards by and large who hate order and love murderous chaos. That includes murder-hobos...I mean 'adventurers' very obviously.

Except our own of course; because if they cause murderous chaos in my lands then they get to die in a rather public and painful manner as a consequence. I made that very clear to the Gnolls. Outside our lands and not our allies are fair game, but fuck with us there will be retaliation – the feudal system in action folks. Or tribal really since we're not quite at that level yet. Anyway for the moment our brave adventurers guild consists of Lua, Tris, some Gnolls, three idiots from my clan who loyal but not discipline inclined, two goblins (one of which is a shaman or cleric of some sort) and five kobolds. Truly this is the beginning of a fine organisation. Still I've given them some hunting missions and fetch quests so let's see how that goes. Hopefully well.

Now, unto larger military matters; our raised levy auxlia and female auxiliaries are turning into a rather competent seeming military machine alongside the older male children from the clan who aging up. Constant drilling day after day will do that I've found, though the problem of the harvest will soon present itself as summer turns into autumn. Sadly this would mean deploying these soldiers as farmers to take in all the crops the villages have grown and therefore breaking up my fighting force into penny packets again. Which would be bad let's be honest, but I'd also be losing Rose for several weeks to let her do her magical stuff alongside her granny and Holaywn in Zah's Conquest.

So my plan, such as it is, right now is to march out of the stronghold as a unified army in a 'tour' of sorts and visiting each vassal over the course of the harvest season and bring in the crops in rough rotation. We'll also call it 'leave' of sorts by bring levies back their families...though visitations have started to occur I've noticed from wifes/mothers/sisters since the gathering of forces. I'd also call it a show of strength towards said vassals without bring directly threatening and, most importantly, have our forces concentrated and ready as the ideal massive raid season comes around. If the Furry Fucker is to come at us this year – then autumn is likely his last chance before the snows fall and traditional hordes start to struggle to stay in the field.

This of course is because Zah and Co. are still in the field off to the south-ish of us and intending to continue raiding and conquering in that general area from the last feather messenger. Sadly for the moment that's all we know, at least till a proper report arrives with an actual messenger and escort. Still working on that battlefield C magic 'software' by the way; fantastically we *can* pull it off but it needs two-three magic users that would be more useful elsewhere for a small benefit. Further investigation into this hopefully yields the Total War battlefield framework I want. Maybe, Praise the Boss in seasons to come it will.

In family news: children are adorable but noisy. Very noisy and energetic when it's too hot to sleep; as is Lua, who is...well, more Lua than usual really. Evidently 'my women are her women' according to her as she groped up Mara and Kethri early today. Beer, boredom and blazing heat driven drow slightly evidently even with days of martial training. Or maybe because of it, hard to know. Well Lua anyway as her slave Lara is still, well, broken in that creepy calm way of hers. She's...better than at the start...sort-of, but only in subjective rather than objective terms really. While she's affected by magical influences more than a Drow traditionally should (it's like a study in compromised mental magic resistance) she's still not let anywhere important, or without guards nearby.

Honestly she wasn't a very nice person prior to her capture, but in that way that Drow society twists and messes up its citizens rather than outright evil. And that's at her own description to me and Lua of what memories are in there like broken shards of glass. *Reminder: Never get taken alive by Darth Phargk in a fight*. Still, Lua wants to dedicate her to Eilistraee in a 'rebirth' or 'baptism' ceremony at the girl's request – though honestly how much of that is a genuine request of the slave, and how much an effort to please isn't something for me to say on. Thing is she'll want me as 'witness' or whatever the hell at this ceremony idea so I'm mulling upon it at the moment. One of many things to think on in coming days, but for now I must Slan, need to study the workings of a summoning spell.

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