In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

24. Entry 24

[Maekrix'edar'nesh Kirask'lden'nabal 02]

On the March, The Crags

"Glories to us! Beatings alls! Yes-Yes!" he told loudly to the marching bands of his people with a wave of his staff. A gloriously hissing victory cry echoed back from the ranks along with shaking of spears and bows from those nearest as he passed. In both style and at ease he believed as he sat on the back of his Fueryon, who was glancing curiously at those cheering kobolds as they passed by. So what if the orcs said it looked a parent carrying a child as he sat on shoulders of his slave and the pack up her back; they were just dum-dum orcs and he knew he looked like proper dragon soaring up this high in the sky!

'Evens if manys of these peoples are nots of Menkin's tribe' he thought as he shifted his weight and Feuryon moved her hands on his legs to keep him in place. Mixing and training his and other kobold tribes together was still so very strange to him, wrong even, but it had given them a great victory as more hissing cheers rose up and down the line All again celebrating their great victory over the bigger but cowardly Uthgardt humans by sending them fleeing before the dragon-folk. And their allies too of course; the orcs and their own humans had helped a little as well in his great victory.

Sure they'd lost a fair number of warriors of the dragon blood, but that was the nature of battle and most those slain had been weak anyway so the tribe was better off without them. But the mighty dragon blooded warriors of the people, with his magnificent sorcerer powers in command of course, had driven those big, loud, hooting, savages running before them. Well, at least till their big giant human legs managed to get them away from his warriors in the fog they had summoned like the cowards they were. Bloody cowardly human savages denying Menkins either slaves or loot!

He settled his staff across his lap, careful so it didn't harm his slave in the process, and gazed out at the countryside slowly passing by as they strolled back towards the valley. All rather slowly he found, especially compared to how quickly they'd marched out, as it wasn't like they'd taken great mountains of loot or slaves in the victory. Instead it seemed they were marching slowly to allow time to heal the most injured and to watch for the Uthgardt humans recovering their courage. He gave a quiet hissing laugh at that. Considering how fast they'd run away he doubted they stopped in their retreat even now!

"Master?" his slave asked curiously beneath him at the sound and he patted her on the head noting the yellow flower she'd placed there smelled rather pleasantly fragrant. A good choice he idly noted and decided to collect a number of them for the tavern when they stopped once again so they could use in his tavern. After all it covered up the usual smell of wet animal all non-kobolds seemed to have when they got wet.

"Master's thinkings somethings funnies yes-yes. Menkins winnings greats battles and eagers gettings backs to taverns and makings shiny coins thoughs, is goods whens alls celebrating greats victories in Taverns and makes Menkins coins. And Menkins thinkings Feuryons eagers returning homes toos?"

"Yes Master, very much" she replied cheerfully. Honestly too of course, he'd trained that into both her and her breeder Vaerier even if it was things he did not like to hear. Only dum-dums wanted to hear lies from slaves and other dum-dums and Menkins the Great and Mighty was no dum-dum! No, not in the least he knew that for sure. After all his glorious dragon blood had given him special magics that made sure others, slave, enemy or just dum-dum, would do as he said once he used his magic. He knew everything about his pet here after, fears, wants and hidden secrets even better than she or her breeding female had; that made training much easier he'd found when they told him when they were being naughty like thinking of escaping or lazy.

"Hmmm-hmmm, yes be bestest to be unders roofs and warmth than outs in dirts and rains whens sleepings Menkin thinks..." he mused gazing at the clouds off in the distance as they followed they trails into the valley proper. If he had to guess they'd be getting a rain shower soon, just like they'd had been seeing since the battle and waiting on the army leaving to return. He tapped a claw on the back of the humans hair covered skull "...nots likes alls the greens and wets on scales, no-no. And Feuryons needs cleanings soons Menkins knows yes-yes!"

"Sorry Master" she replied, had drooping forward slightly with appropriate embarrassment and obedience shown there and in her tone. He hissed in a chuckle and patted her head again as she'd admitted she liked when she was being good.

"Is nots Feuryons fault is not perfect scaly dragons blooded kobold like Menkins afters all!" he told her cheerfully "...ifs luckies cans cleans youse in rivers or stream when stops buts soons homes and then Menkins rewardings youse wells yes-yes. Impressings Menkins sire and other dragon-folk, thens makings goods foods for Menkins, and nots evens runs aways likes wants toos in battle like many dum-dum humans do! Workings hards and servingss Menkins as shoulds be to dragon-folk! Nows we's..."

--

[Krowluc 16]

Spartan War-Camp, Goblin Town, Valley of Sparta

"Get the horses stabled and let's get some grub and booze into us boyos!" he shouted out to his riders as they trotted their mounts towards the temporary 'stables' they'd established in the goblin town built amidst the ruined old village that had been there previously. At least it had been the Spartan orcs and their human vassals that had built most of the new settlement he mused, otherwise the whole place would be even more of a dump to have to stay in even for the day "About time we celebrate beatin' da shite outta them damned Uthgardt savages!"

A cheer of approval came back in return as he dismounted with a huff of effort and gripped the reins of his armoured charger to lead it under shelter from the light drizzle coming down upon them. Well except those who were on the first guard shift at least, who merely muttered and grunted at the unfairness of it all as best he could hear from where he stood. So nothing much had changed from usual he guessed as began to unlace the plate armour from his tired charger as it snorted at the wooden spar he'd tied the reins too. But you couldn't just leave the horses and armour without armour after all, even after a victory.

'Course it wasn't exactly a decisive one, but a better showing than I'd expected when I saw that heavy horse and number of them Golden Dawn mercs" he thought to himself considering the nature of the battle. Casualties had been very low, they'd won and driven off the threat and it seemed even second-line militia his Bosses had thrown together could fight like proper soldiers after all the training beaten into them. Fact they'd stood off a force of proper, well equipped and led, mercenaries and their Uthgardt allies was something worth celebrating to himself all in all. After all it was a good sign of the long term viability of his taking a place here in Illuskan Legions as they were calling it.

"Right you lot, form up and let's get to the firepits and booze before they eat and drink everything..." he said after finally storing away the last of the armour of his mount, and the sounds of the others quietened down as well and most just stood around chatting or bitching to each other "...Dargunk your in charge for the night, Bareyaras will take the shift in the morning...so don't get too fuckin' drunk or shack with anyone and forget ya bloody half-elf!"

"As if Boss! I'll have a few drinks, shack up with a pretty...undecided honestly...and then run away in the morning claimin' duty and all that! Not a chance ah forgettin' that Boss! Nope. Not at all!" came back from down the line and earning a few guffaws and backslapping at the leader of the 'light' cavalry squad as he almost sashayed forward as he said. Bloody elves and half-elves Krowluc thought shaking his head in annoyance at the stupidity of his subordinates as he took off his great helm.

"As long as you do Bareyaras, no bullshitin' this time or you'll be diggin latrines and shovellin' horseshit for a month..." he muttered back and glancing at his other more obvious problem cases "...and Egar no fucking goblins. I don't want any more mini idiot chiefs wantin' yer bloody head. So who's gonna watch him when he gets drunk like the little pansy he always is?"

"Oh! Oh" Me! Me! Pick me!" his other chief lieutenant and other resident kleptomaniac problem stated cheerfully bringing a hand up and dropping an arm around the human male's shoulder energetically. He frowned at that. Still...well, it would ensure they'd at least be in the one place and less likely to cause trouble at the very least. She Thieving Kyras seemed to taking his frown and momentary silence as a no, as she huffed at him and thumped the hand she'd been holding into her chest.

"Oh come on! I'm trustworthy and awesome and..."

"Lost the bet..." Dargunk muttered with a laugh that echoed out from a few of the others "...and took the cheapest way out of it"

"Noooo...me! Lose at bone dice? Never! And try skip out on a debt! Never! Me and Egar are the bestest of bestest buddies and is totally nothing to do with me gambling away all my coin, bedroll, dinner and beyond. No. Never! Bestest Buddies! Stickin' together! Yes! Victory celebrations Woot!" she announced hugging the human male and giving one of those 'I'm completely innocent of everything they say Sir Guardsman' he was all too familiar with. Usually after she'd stolen something, scammed someone, or and was on the verge of being caught for something else she'd probably done. Still he didn't want to know as long as they didn't cause him hassle in the after math.

Krowluc groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose "I don't want to know. Just no thievin' and no angry dads, warriors or warchiefs screamin' at me cause he sheathed his damned sword in their sister/daughter/wife and/or mother again right" he muttered at them as they nodded and started trailing off more to himself as he turned away "...fuckin bards and givin me Gods damned headeaches"

Still there was much to celebrate and let out a sigh of relief as the smell of cooking meat reached his nostrils as his band strolled forward under the night and light rainfall. They'd lost nobody in the fighting thanks to the Shaman's clerics, routed the Uthgardt scouts when their main force had begun to retreat and helped capture what supplies that army had left behind as well. All in all it was a good solid performance for his expanding cavalry on what was rough terrain and against an experienced enemy. With that in mind he smiled as they neared the crude shelters and roasting deers and boars of the war-camp where some songs drifted on the air as few villagers seemed an impromptu dance...

--

When: Post Battle, Harvest Time, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Stronghold of Sparta

Ah a break from organising the organising of the great feasting in celebration of our Great Victory over the Uthgardt. So-called great victory in all truth because our enemy merely quit the field and retreated intact while I was forced to do the same as well from preventing wounded becoming dead, and reorganising the 'victorious' army post battle. Actual casualties were shockingly low, in the low dozens to my surprise, though that seems to apply to our enemies as well as us; but wounds, from minor to severe, were far too common.

So while I presented the initial digging in and return to the valley as ensuing the enemy were fleeing, the truth was it was to enable the worst injuries to be triaged before we returned to Goblin Town for a few more days rest. Also it let us send out word to our various vassals of said Great Victory Feast to be held here in Sparta in honour of blah, blah, blah. Oggy's idea basically and at heart its pure propaganda. Yes big words, but the goal is to impress our vassals of our strength in defending the valley, and of 'rewarding' our warriors too of course considering there was no loot from the battle.

Oggy and Ghorza are right in that the more I've thought on the matter, and its generally pretty traditional when a Warlord wins a battle but ends up wrecking/burning the prize in the process of winning said battle. While we didn't burn or wreck anything the fact of the enemy retreating, with most of their baggage train, meant there was little to loot. Have to reward all their bravery, loyalty and all those other good things that a ruler/general wants in his subordinates so we'll throw booze, good food and scantily clad females at them during the coming feasting session. Everyone loves a party after all.

Unless you're the one organising the blasted things of course; like me...along with Oggy, my Chieftain and Breyza. Old Breyjuk seems somewhat grumpy at not being at the battle, but seems to view it as almost a solid victory despite my own opinion of events. Once the injured are fully healed, the feasting is done, and we've pulled in the harvest, I'm going to drill even these reserves into a killing machine over the winter. Learned a lesson here and I'm only lucky there wasn't an even heavier price in blood to pay for the education of it from my minions.

Such as Rose who I'm pretty sure saved my life, and Lua who took a bad stab wound to the leg that had her limping till a day or so ago despite the healing. Spear stab through the knee joint of her armour being the source of that. Still my little red haired ward has certainly proven herself, even if her approaching Granny isn't going to be all that enthused about her deeds, and in front of my warriors as well so rewards are in order. Or at least public rewarding of her service because it suits my plans, and her own personal development and wants. She'll be the future leader of her village after all, and impressing my warriors via martial feats makes the position more secure even if I'm not around.

How exactly to reward her is subject for discussion later today-tomorrow dependent upon talking to her grandmother Wifne and Rose herself. Oggy wants to adopt her, as does Ghorza because she seems to see Rose a human version of herself as best I can tell. Though it must be said; Rose possibly saving her life in the melee as well might have had a role in that too, hard to tell with Ghorza honestly. Of course Oggy wants Rose in 'on our side' so to speak, so I was bombarded with either adopt or make her a concubine.

So yeah, I've enough scary women in my life without that and I don't think of Bloody Red that way at all. Oggy and messed up thought processes. Then again Orcs being Orcs as my Shaman Lawgiving duties upon my return show as always, so what else should I expect from my beloved. One of the issues being the fact new 'recruits' are starting to arrive into the valley in a steady trickle thanks to the actions of Zah down south, and from rumours of our battles in the previous seasons.

Of course the difference between a band of raiders and recruits can be rather small and beating discipline into them is hard as ever as our numbers grow. For instance about five squads worth of recruits had arrived...well more arrived but after the usual difficulties we had just over fifty to fight for us...during our time away. Something that, four or five years ago, would have been almost fifth to a quarter of our total fighting strength and now they all have to be trained up in the new ways. It'll be easier when Zah and the army return soon I expect.

On another note the small group of Janissary slave-warriors actually fought decently enough by all reports, so they're getting allowed some rewards too at the feast. As in being allowed to attend and get roaring drunk like the rest of them. Not something that'll be overly common for them no, but you have to the carrot as well as the stick I find and they performed well enough to justify it supposedly. Plus they are the direct property of the Church of Ilneval so to speak, and it was a 'victory' achieved with mostly non-orc vassal levies and two companies of orcs in support. For the non-tribal it boosts the image of myself within the clan, and furthers the power of the cabal of the old Stormfang and Thunderblades clans within Sparta. Or Illusk as a whole now I suppose.

Which of course is me trying to avoid discussing the major issue arising from our battle with the Uthgardt savages. Namely the severe lack of Uthgardt numbers amongst those under the banners of the Sky Pony Tribe, and the situation laid out by our recent young arrivals was worse than I'd originally feared. I'd expected a core of mercenary free company with Uthgardt warriors shoring up the numbers. Instead we got the bloody Knights Templar of Lathander, with mage support, a force of heavily armoured and mounted paladins, and general fanatic mindset all in all.

Honestly it's those factors that led me to take them to battle in the hills rather than the following them unto the plains or here in the valley. Hardly cavalry country but that heavy horse could wreck my whole day without a counter like my heavy pike or a pre-prepared and trapped battlefield. When I expected a mercenary takeover of the Uthgardt tribe I didn't expect this exactly. Or the implication of the support they must have gotten, or are getting, to put a small army in the field up here in the Crags. Mirabar? Luskan perhaps? Though one thing that worries me is that maybe the Gods are taking notice, and then sending in their attack dogs to deal with the 'orcish scourge' up here in the mountains?

The Boss maybe moving, but it's not impossible that others are moving in response. After all even if you were reliving your life with perfect foreknowledge doesn't mean things would work out the same. A changed word here or there, forgetting a minor detail to you but could have been massive to another, and suddenly fate is spiralling out of control. I don't remember anything about a small army of Dawn Lord worshippers wandering around the Crags at this time. Even took a bit of time to flick through any 'holy books' related to this period and gotten nada in response. Then again; Harpells here, Doctor Ned here, and a host of other changes I don't know about.

So basically this is probably somehow my fault. Though it does bring up the fact I'm likely to see a certain OP Dark Elf wandering through our lands soon enough in the company of a grumpy soon to be Dwarf King, and a number of others. What's going to be an issue is Catti "Put Orc Babies Heads on Stakes!" Brie, and the Luskan group she'll be captive with. Mostly the Assassin being the danger there – what if Luskan sends him after me and mine? Things are shifting as the Uthgardt have shown.

Funny how foreknowledge can screw things up for planning; prophesy being a bitch, and largely wrong once you start mucking with things. After all the future isn't fixed, we have changed it already after all. Still I'd much rather avoid getting into another conflict I'm going to have to think about how to deal with both parties when they blunder over us. Because they will, or they'll come here looking for Harpells, or some other bullshit reason that will annoy me I expect. The question is what to do?

Our overall strategic situation apparently is to be surrounded on most all sides by possibly implacable foes; Luskan I'm pretty sure is going to be them or us in the coming years consider their total hostility. Only their war with Neverwinter is sparing us a either a full blown intervention, or a horde of adventurers sicced upon us at their command. The second option being more likely for Luskan I expect, or yet another proxy like the Uthgardt tribes and demon summoners.

What worries though after this debacle with the sun-worshipping 'mercenaries' is that Mirabar is also seemingly set against us as well. Luskan, Wyrmog, the Uthgardt, and now Mirabar it seems are all foes seeking to destroy me and mine. I shouldn't be surprised, but it's still moderately depressing to sit down and write that upon this blood-warded tome. So I've been thinking on things I can influence outside of these lands and Mithral and its brave band are one I can, maybe, with effort, influence in some small way. Yes I'll admit part of it is the knowledge of who these people are, empathy and desire for them to succeed in their task. But, that isn't the rational part of mind's argument for trying to do so.

Mirabar has seemingly decided to destroy us, and since I don't plan on marching down and sacking the city-state then weakening it and building allies or neutrals is my best bet. Mithral Hall damaged Mirabar by breaking its Mithril monopoly, and Drizzt & Bruenor at least were willing to deal with Obould. Best that their quest succeeds then I think, so I need to think of how to make sure some of my idiots don't start trouble with them when they pass through Illusk. Darth Phargk honestly is where I'll need to start unfortunately when he returns because this needs to be Illusk wide rather than just my valley. A prophesy perhaps? Visions?

Whatever the case that and other things are for later. Right now I need to go down and greet the arrivals from the two southern fortified villages and get back to work at readying tonight's feast. No rest for the wicked as they say!

--

When: Harvest Season, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: My Tower, Sparta

The victory celebrations were rather raucous as always, though at least the Boss and the Cave Mother deemed it worthy to grand us the whole Heroes Feast magical blessing. All very Hogwartsy, and I'd really love to know how energy gets converted into tasty all replicator like in all honesty. Be a handy-dandy way to solve supply and logistics problems let me tell you!

Anyway as I was saying the feasting went about as expected a few days ago, food, booze, games, and all the entertainments a low-tech settlement with some magic can throw together for an army. Really Sparta feels like a small city that never sleeps at times, though it requiring more and more work to just keep pace with annoying logistics like a water supply and a sewage system. The well, the rain water built up in the pits on the upper slopes, a decanter of waters-slash-temporary-waterfall right, have been a great help but we're still having to send people to the river as demand grows for things like beer to use an example. I'll have a think about it over winter but magic can cover it as suggested by Doctor Ned, but I'd rather practical backups. Redundancy is a good thing from a personal level all the way up to the civilization one I believe.

Whatever the decision on that future problem the current situation is good. We've got a decent enough production setup between magic and mundane to feed our vassal army and own population fairly well, and heal up the remaining wounded. So the reserve army is fighting fit once again, with full bellies, high morale, and all those other good things. Course the place was noise as feck for the past few days, with the feasting, then the general drinking and debauchery one expects from 'victorious' soldier getting to celebrate and be around pretty women (of which ever species). Even the fact Wifne and Hollaywn brought a largish number of soldiers wives helped with human auxlia I think, I know I'm glad to get to spend some time with the children before we head back south to harvest and build in a few days.

Lua was Lua, or even more Lua than usual really, after a few drinks and her self-proclaimed hard fought part in the victory; she wants to keep the slash scar even after the healing. Boss above the amount of times she mentioned 'did you see this! How brave I was! Aren't I awesome and sexy?' since we came back. And not just to me of course, she's been playing the brave hero up to Mara and Kethri as well as Tris.

Yes because it's her harem in her drowish mind; though wisely she leaves Oggy be, and Missy too after a threat involving 'one more time and I'll lightning where the sun don't shine', so I leave it be. Best not be caught in the crossfire. Also be rather hypocritical on my part in the end considering things in my own life. What makes them happy makes me happy, and I'd much rather peace amongst my magically empowered household members.

Sorry I mention Lua because her slave Lara has been making some progress in well...not being the mind broken wretch she was reduced to. Still she's not really all there yet, or moreso 'learning' perhaps as if she's of two minds on things. To me it seems as if Eilistraee reached in and helped 'mind heal' by essentially mind bending the girl somewhat, or something to that effect of 'adjusting' things inside. Lara's attitude, alignment perhaps, is much 'good' than it would have been before, and speaks of her past like it was a story she was told rather than a memory she's recalling.

What's worse that's probably a good thing considering everything she experienced with Darth Phargk, the orc who turned healing into the fucking nightmare superpower – note to self again; never get taken alive by my scary evil orc biomancer 'mentor'. Which in part why I mention her and him; Zah's sent word he's to return soon in the coming weeks after something about zombie elves, stupid humans, trolls, murderous plants and other things that make little sense.

Problems of short scribblely messages delivered by magical familiars by rapidly trained mages let's say. So need to keep Lua's girl from running into One Eye's cleric and undoing any progress she's made. I think I'll place her in for magical training as a basic mage after what me and Lua talked about last night, or at least 'minion' to Doctor Ned and the Harpells for a time. Between that and time in the Adventurers Guild I'd think that's the best we can manage.

Anyway now to get away from all that personal drama to other personal drama, though less bothersome in most ways; Rose. Or technically one of my household as a quasi-daughter of sorts. Yes its odd, orc only a bit older adopting a human but it'll shore up her position when she takes over Zybelin's Drift in the years to come, and odder has happened. She seemed very happy and huggy about it all so I'm rather happy about it all. She saved my life and she is an awesome apprentice, so what's to complain about really. Granny Humbletree seems completely confused about the whole thing, but she's not arguing against and seems to grasp that it's a good thing. At least she's not trying to get revenge for me throwing her 'little flower' into battle against nutjob paladin/crusader wannabes either. All positives to me!

Now I must go. Preparations to make, Missy to study with, and then we've to get ready to move this hungover army down south to get the rest of the harvest in. I kinda want to have to done and dusted before Zah and the main army returns looking to be fed and housed. Slan!

--

When: Autumn, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Zahgorim's Conquest

Still can't believe I let him name the bloody village.

Anyway after somewhat of a delay I've gotten the army to arrive at the village along with some trade wagons from the other kobolds and goblins, and ourselves as well in truth. Trade and circulation of coin is a wonderful way to get things done indirectly, or at least encourage activity where sitting on a hoard of useless loot gains us nothing. It's mostly fake and forced in terms of a market economy, but it's starting to gain traction as people are spending coins rather than just pure barter, and there's even taxes being paid. Though in truth our loot gets distributed to the ranks, who then spend it on stuff we produce, and the coins comes back to us via this or 'tax', which then gets distributed as a wage...

Something that's really helped by having others to trade with like the Moonblades and Longsaddle, which means I can convert useless shiny loot into useful things like tools, or booze, or seeds, or a host of other things to help in building up the valley. Then again in my past life all those little pieces of worthless paper, or even more the imaginary computer version, had value because people believed it had value. Like Gold too of course, a largely worthless shiny metal that is much less useful to Sparta than iron, or even silver for anti-magical creature weapons.

So I'm rather pleased to see an actual market in the village, and trade between our vassals after only a few years since our coming to power. Also in 'celebration' of the contribution of the village serving us in and battle we had another mini-feasting session after conduction a burial ceremony for those who died from the village in battle. Gave rewards to the widows and children of those fallen as well, something that isn't done in this world by and large. But really should even beyond compassionate reasons.

Because it's generally a good idea to encourage people to fight hard for you and that if they die you'll ensure their family will be taken care off. On a side note really need to put thought into making medals or something like that as symbols of valour. Historically things like that help in building a military tradition according to my understanding of reading the Tome of Wiki.Other than that I'm having the village expanded with a few new storehouses, and a bit of an expansion of the outer wall and a watchtower or two. Wooden castles, or fortified villages, were the most common in history from my previous life, so I'll admit I'm cheating somewhat on the designs.

Plus clearing those forests means more fields can be planted for next year. Which is very good and useful; mostly because time is ticking by, and 1358 Dale Reckoning draws ever closer, and more our numbers swell - the more that's needed just to stand still in terms of logistics. Building breweries and bakeries, and getting more bakers and brewers, then are a secondary issue that needs to happen even as we grow more crops, or have more berries foraged. Funny I always figured I'd be more worried about forging swords and armour coming into a war but instead my focus is on building an infrastructure capable of sustaining larger numbers of warriors.

Next it's unto Zybelin's Drift, and I have the Gods-slaves with us to try some enchantment of better made equipment. While my clan's orc-smiths are improving it's still been only a year or two of learning for most, and the apprentices I left here and in the Drift are still too young and part-trained to be truly useful. Hence why our main weapon production is of spears, arrows, and large pavise or kite style shields, rather than swords and full plate armour. Plate, chainmail, and all the other one's I'm having focused on the better squads for the moment, while we've enough tailors and seamstress to handle padded or quilted armour, or decent enough leather.

Then there's the issue with...

Most go. Missy says its study time, and the Harpells are getting...bored. That's never a good thing, so best to distract them with blowing up some rocks that are delaying my digging; two birds, one stone maybe.

--

When: Autumn, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: We'll call it 'Southbridge' for the moment

I've halted the army at the fort-bridge crossing the river here in the valley to do some further construction on the place. In people's imaginations crossing a fast flowing stream or river is very easy; in simple terms it isn't, and it slows armies and trade down especially wagon using ones like the one I've been building. So the two points on the river we built our bridges are the ones where it's easiest to cross at; so obviously bridges when there, along with a wooden watchtower.

And basically every year since, three or four now, I've had us throw manpower at expanding the place, such as palisade wall, a moat bridge setup and widening the river itself in the process. Though I'll admit that was killing two birds with one stone, widening the banks made it harder to cross the ground while also giving us building materials. It's not exactly impressive by later era earth standards but it, and its twin, are nice compact versions of our Fortified War-camps

One thing that surprised me was that they've even got a little farming setup using some of the goblin levies, and three human slaves they apparently acquired before last winter season back in Sparta at the 'market' with the Moonblades. They've even been logging and hunting the woods nearby, then trading these for extra supplies (read booze) from the two human villages I'm mildly surprised as the crowd at the north bridge weren't as creative at all considering the same powers and garrison size.

Maybe it's because Yalmuk is younger than Ulrthop, or because he grew up with me distantly and the second didn't? It's hard to know but for whatever reason he's doing a better job. Something that I'm happy to encourage being honest because this sort of expansion is good as its making more use of the valley's arable land and living space. So we're just going to spend a day or two here and expand the living area, and the 'moat' and other defences too of course, as a sort of reward. Slan go foill a charde.

--

When: Autumn, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift

Well we've arrived here in lovely Zybelin's Drift to Rose's delight, and Wifne's too I'll admit. Amusingly my whole household are now in attendance, it's like a travelling circus as Oggy brought the children along with Mara and Kethri to take care of them. Not that I'm unhappy to have the children around me, it's I don't entirely get the reasoning of 'showing them off' as she put it but she gets what she wants so here they all come after joining us at the south-bridge. Little Karggy is three now so she's the only one with any basic understanding of what's going on I suspect, even if the other two made it rather clear how they feel about sunny days in their little ways too. In the same way many adult orcs still bitch and whine at me that they have train under it.

Right now it's raining, not too badly but it'll delay harvest a few days, though honestly there isn't much complaining as the villagers are preparing for marriage ceremonies now that their cleric, and the Zahgorim's Conquest delegation with Hollaywn the Hippie Elf Druid, have arrived. Oggy seems to have known something about this, but then again hers is a similar role within our clan and probably spoke to Rose on it during their training sessions. Or well, more to the point their planning a fertility festival rather than marriages per se; the marriages are a part of it seemingly along with fertility rites and blessings on the children born in the past few months.

Yes, we are going through a bit of a baby boom within the valley and it's not entirely amongst the orcish population it seems. I do wonder if it's the strange combination of the sudden ending of immediate threats like the Bugbears and raiders being suddenly eliminated, combined with brining in an entire new village of humans, and slaves as well. Because Boss above the number of women with bulging bellies, the fact of the 'mass marriage ceremony' being organised, and then the multiple wife marriages amongst the villagers has to be explained somehow and that's my reasoning for it at the moment.

Of course I suspect a decent part of the debauchery (and they say humans are more civilized!) is due to the fact that Zybelin's Drift, and Zahgorim's Conquest too, tend towards being villages of women, children, teenagers and a few craftsman most days these recent seasons. It's due to any man who doesn't have a skilled trade having being turned into soldiers and as such, training, fighting and living away from the villages. It's the same for the goblins, Goblin Town being heavily female dominated and run, while the kobolds are as prone to sending females as warriors when younger as with the males so it's likely less so with them.

I'd expect this situation to likely continue, or grow even, considering Rose is full well and determined to use the Gods-slaves in said ceremony, well that slash harvest one. With Oggy's and Ghorza's full support mind you on it, so it's not sacrilege like I was concerned about. Unfortunately I've run headlong into the female warrior orc mindset; more sex, more babies, more children, more future warriors for the clan.

Food stores are full, the clan is strong, so it's important to grow and multiple our strength even if it's 'the weakling humans' because they serve us now. Goddesses of Fertility evidently plan out their Zerg Rushes years in advance! Victory by superior baby making is not one I've come across before in war games been honest. Sadly this won't help much during the coming Year of Gods Walking and Breaking Shit, but it's something that's further proof of the problems of growth.

Those swollen bellies turning into children, children that need to be fed and educated in some manner for several years before turning into useful workers or soldiers. Yes I know that's not a very romantic or kind way to put it; but somebody needs to think about it so there is food and protection for them in place. I have children of my own after all, along with the boom of them for the rest of the clan back home, so it's something to consider alongside building armies and weapons for them to wield.

So, on that note, I'm going to have school built in each of the villages, human, goblin and kobold, starting here and now. Well not that traditional school of my past life, but more a mixture of Military Academy, Missionary School, and Preparation for Apprenticeship muddled altogether much like I've being trying with my own clan for a few years now with the youngest. Some would call it indoctrination; they'd be right, at least in part. I'm not hypocritical enough to pretend that isn't behind some of it, but frankly many of our current 'traditions' are fucking stupid and making us weak in the long term.

Plus education is way to glue a conquered people into the new state, at least where you're not being stupid about it, or going overboard in forcing your views upon them. The key in my view here is to offer a benefit to both the children and their village, and for the children getting them used to working under orcish rule and dealing with some of our stupider members of the species. To start I'm going to be basically abducting the older boys and girls from the two villages here for the winter if I can like we did about three-four years ago when we first took control.

It should be less of an issue considering the menfolk will be staying in Sparta – I'd expect several women would come along as well. I'll be talking on it with Wifne later, well after Oggy and Ghorza, and then sketch up something resembling a curriculum. Well more a idea I can expand into a curriculum over the Winter season when I can get a handle on what skill-sets I've available to teach via loyal minions.

Emphasis on loyal there, as I don't want children coming to harm personally even without the politics of such a thing happening. If done right it's a base to build on for the clan, and Illusk in general.In other news there have been bands of orcs, young orcs, drifting towards the valley in small bands; but significant numbers overall. There's actually been a few Uthgardhters ones too making for the Drift or Zah's place, but only in small (starving) numbers like the first band. In regards them they get a chance to join or die if they try to turn bandit - Simple as that.

For the orcs the question is largely the same; are you here to join our banners or try raid? Raiders get dead or enslaved, and the 'Join' get put into the 'training' regime that'll weed out the dangerous troublemakers. Growing our numbers is vital, but not so much that too many will disrupt the system we're getting in place. The Furry Fucker and his armies await in the future after all for us, discipline is key to our victory – on the field yes, but also on the support side too. We aim to rule prosperous lands not fields of ash like so many clans have in the past.

Due to that, and the recent battle with the 'Uthgardht' army, I've had a major step up in patrols since the army has come south. There are reports from the north, but it's mostly clear as the enemy retreated back down unto the lower hills and plains east of the Cargs. The biggest problem is the usual aftermath of such battles out here in the wilds; Animals and Monsters coming down having been woken by the blood and noise.

Nothing too dangerous thankfully, but our hunters (I'll include the goblins and kobolds) have taken in a decent haul of meat despite several deaths so that's (mostly) good. Good work for our nascent Adventurers Guild too evidently as Lua sent her members (read Gnolls, some less disciplined orcs, and a few goblins) out to 'help' with task and get furs and such. Good for them, the pay is to their liking I guess.

Anyway Slan, things to do now sadly.

--

When: Autumn, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift

Boss what?

What? Come on this isn't fair?

What are you thinkin...

No, stupid saying that – I know what the reasoning behind this probably is. The Power of Foresight and all that, moving pieces on the board.

But this is beyond me. And so bloody dangerous I'm guessing a Test of some sort. For whom I'm not entirely sure of.

Dammit.

Ah my dear readers, I'm rambling. Only a day or so till the harvest being completed and the ceremony and a band of young orcs have arrived. Young males on an adventure, visions from the Gods, eager to spill blood and fight in the battles to come as most of our new recruits have been.

Their leader is young, oh so young, but well armed and rather intelligent warrior. He's on a Vision Quest. Came all the way from the Spine, with gifts even. Isn't that great?

Yeah isn't it Boss. Just like you wanted I expect. Aren't you glad?

Oh. I should mention.

He told us his name is Obould.

Dammit. I need a drink.

--

[Missasri 24]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

The moon was full in the clear blackness of the sky above she saw glancing up at the twinkling stars as she sat down on the rugs arranged on the ground where the rest her 'household' were arranging themselves. Even Mara and Kethri were present with the three children; Missasri patted Kargash on the head as the tiny orc girl charged towards the two slave girls.

Of course they were a little back from the rest of them in open hut-like structure, in part for shelter when they tired out and wanted to sleep. Which was hopefully before the rest of them started drinking with the celebrations. She turned away with a smile and watched the large bonfires off in the distance, still unlit, as dozens of shadows, human villagers with Rose's grandmother commanding she assumed, milled about those conical piles moving things she couldn't see from here.

"And one for you too Missy!" Tris said cheerfully to her as she came into view with a wooden cup in each hand, one of which Missasri gladly took as it was proffered. The warm wine within tasted good on this slightly chill harvest season night and Misssasri let out a contented hum as made herself comfortable on her own little part of the furs. The half-elven bard moved to half-sit, half-lay, beside Missasri sipping at her own wine and glancing around at villagers beyond, and the orcish guards at various points standing watch. Or possibly at the arriving forms of Mast...Karg, and a similarly clad Ghorza as clerics of the orc God they served.

Certainly more than the light and fairly revealing dress that Mistress Ogrash, and Lua'kah'wyss in support, had gotten Tris into alongside both Mara and Kethri. Honestly Missasri found it hard not to treat the half-elf like a servant at times, because the other girl just seemed to fit so easily into that role at times. It was fairly clear to Missasri that Mistress Ogrash, and Ghorza to a lesser extent, was showing off the power of the 'household' to both the peasants of the village, and for the visiting vassal and orc leaders with this layout. Something she herself agreed with now since was as Karg's wife...well third wife, but still...

"Woohoo! Party Time! Isn't it grand?" announced a cheerful voice that broke Missasri from her relaxing contemplation. Glancing in that direction she saw the familiar form of Lua'kah'wyss practically skipping towards herself and Tris with happy smile, cups of wine in each hand, and an unopened bottle tucked under her arm. Behind her the equally scantily clad of the other dark skinned drow female followed obediently behind her owner while carrying a wooden tray with some meats, fruits and such in her hands. Missasri and Tris moved and made space for the two drow who had just arrived, the half-elf blushing and looking mildly aghast at her energetic drow lover's choice of garb for the night.

"Lua? What are you wearing?" the half-elf queried as the dominant between the two drow plopped into place between them with a giggle, gracefully even as she managed to do so without spilling any of the wine held in the cups in either hand. The slave-drow Lara merely stood, head bowed, seemingly waiting to be ordered what to do next. Lua'kah'wyss giggled again as she glanced from Misssasri to Tris with a broad smile on the dark skinned elven face, the white hair framing it illuminated by the moonlight shining down upon. Much like the gauzy, silky, white dresses she and the other drow wore helped frame the night black skin on bare legs and arms, but even beneath the coverings.

"Greetings my fair maidens, I hath arrived so the party may commence so sayeth I, Lua'kah'wyss!" the sitting drow turned her attention to obediently standing on "come on Lara, sit down and take your drink! You get to rest and have some fun tonight"

"Yes Mistress, thank you kindly Mistress" the drowish woman replied softly in the orcish tongue, though Missasri at least saw and heard some small improvement in the elven slave from the mind-shattered creature that she'd first seen. Even now there was the tiniest hint of a smile as the drow sank gracefully to her knees and placed the platter of food nearby, before accepting a cup of wine from Lua'kah'wyss. Still Missasri herself was mildly curious at the drow going all 'seductive' this night.

"Are you not cold Lua in that attire? I'd have thought to see you in your armour this night?"

The drow held up a hand of 'wait please' as she downed the contents of her wine cup, gave a happy sigh before moving to open the bottle she held in hand while she replied "Nuh-uh! This fine beverage will warm my flesh, and if not I'm sure one of you lovely maidens will drive the chill of night away with the warmth of your bodies!"

Missasri just gave her the look she'd gotten used to giving the drow woman these past months. The drow who huffed at this, and Tris's flustered look, before giving a soft melodic laugh as the bottle opened and she began to refill her cup.

"Oh, you are such a mean rivvil and tualithair! Well I'm sure friend Karg will come to my rescue as always! Is that not so Lara?"

Of course the slave's response was soft and obedient "Of course Mistress"

"See, no need to fear for poor Lua'kah'wyss adrift upon this cruel surface world!" she grinned back waving her free hand dramatically in a wave as Karg arrived over to them and having a serious seeming conversation with Ghorza "Hail mine conquering hero Karguk! My saviour hath arrived ladies!"

Master...Karg paused in his stride, then glanced at them with a puzzled expression upon his brow, Ghorza doing likewise and snorting in amusement "Hahhhh...are you drunk already Lua? They haven't even started the ceremony yet!"

"Not yet friend Karg! My eyes are merely glad to gaze upon your fine orcish form!" Missasri watched the drow reply waving her wine cup at Karg and looking him up and down a moment, as her husband just shook his head at the drow's antics as usual "I trust our fair Rose will be joining us later on this fine night? That it shan't just be orcs we not know?"

Ghorza guffawed and answered for Karg "Heh, Bloody Red was whinin' she don't get to wear her armour earlier, so she'll be glad to join us later after all her prancin' about in the flowers and corn in 'er pretty dress, or whatever she does fer her Goddess"

Karg gave a smile at that as he stood before them, glancing back to where bonfires would soon burn, then back at them "True, but'll be a little while away so don't expect her anytime soon if Wifne has her way..." he motioned at Lua'kah'wyss "...and you! Try be good, or at least till the guests aren't around. Or at the very least don't offend, I have..."

"My Mate, it shall be fine. She is perfect as she is. Ogrash has given you your orders Drow hasn't she?" Ghorza interrupted seemingly amused, the words to Lua'kah'wyss firm and commanding but far from hostile. Missasri found that Ghorza lived in a world of superiors, trusted subordinates, untrustworthy subordinates, and enemies so tended towards warrior talk even within the household's hierarchy. Lua'kah'wyss nodded, as she pushed rugs back to allow her to sit back into them.

"Yes Matron Ghorza, Matron Ogrash wants to show off me and Lara here off to our visiting Orc Prince and the others about how strong and great our Karg here is be keepin' even us wicked and fearsome Drow as his helplessly meek and devoted concubines..." she winked at Karg as Missasri rolled her eyes at the drow adopting an attempt at a 'dramatic' or maybe 'seductive' pose "...Oh my Master! Your mighty orcness has overwhelmed my poor elven heart! Yours too Lara hasn't it?"

"Yes Mistress it has. Whatever my Mistress and her Master desire" the soft voice of the drow slave offered back bowing, forehead to ground, to the two orcs. Lua'kah'wys just kept up the attempt at a coy look and pose as Missasri resisted laughing in amusement at it, and the long suffering look upon Mas...Karg's face.

"Take us now Oh mighty shaman! Before mine weak swooning heart breaks!"

Karg groaned and brought his gloved hand up to his face and rub at the bridge of his nose as Ghorza seemingly laughed at him "You're going to be like this all night ain't ya?"

The Drow grinned, perhaps wickedly "Hehehehe...indeed I shall friend Karg"

"Bloody Oggy, bloody drow" was the muttered reply to that.

"Ogrash didn't say anythin' ta me yet, but it solid battle plan. She can tell us the rest when she arrives ah guess..." Ghorza rumbled as she moved to sit cross-legged beside Missasri; unbuckling her sword-belt and resting the weapon just behind her as Karg moved to do similar on her other side "...ah, here she comes now my mate, an' then we can gets the night begun in truth"

Missasri watched as Mistress Ogrash strode towards them over the ground illuminated by the gleaming moonlight, her escort of three warriors joining the rest of those nearby as usual. Just like Mistress Ghorza she was clad in her ceremonial robes, symbols of her dark orcish goddess upon them and a long staff of office, and weapon if need be, held in her hand as she walked and her claws gleaming from some treatment to show them more clearly. She glanced over them a moment, then turned back to the guards nearby.

"Hreshgk, have someone go and grab some stools and that big chair with the arm rests-things and bring them here"

The orc 'Knight' serving Master Karg brought a gauntleted fist up to his chest in acknowledgement, and then moved a few metres away and sent some orcs off to do just that. He was one of the few other orcs that that could wield a holy paladin's weapon properly Missasri had found, it was rather good to see Karg trying to create an order of paladins within the clan. A sign that she was making some headway in helping him turn this clan of orcs away from darker ways, and against savage foes that needed killing; like Luskans, Uthgardts and other orc tribes!

"Plenty of room without chairs Oggy you know?"

Missasri shook her head slightly at the reply, then watched as the named furniture was brought over a few minutes later and arranged to Karg's...well Mistress Ogrash's...liking with Karg at the centre sitting on the largest chair, then Ogrash on his right side and herself and Ghorza on a stool like Ogrash. The children behind them with Mara and Kethri, and Tris on the furs beside Missy, while the two drow women relaxed on the furs before them. It was basic negotiations for a trade, albeit in a savage orc setting, as she sat on the stool and drank at her wine and watched as a big burly young orc approached along, along with a slightly older orc she was guessed as a shaman from experience...

--

[Karguk 39]

Village of Zybelin's Drift

'Thank you Oggy for turning my home life into a bloody bad heavy metal album cover' I groused internally as my lovely wife reorganised everybody in a rather ridiculous seeming arrangement to my eyes. Yes two scantily clad drow draping themselves at my feet was something I wasn't going to complain to hard about too much, but was just...weird...considering future potential Chosen of Gruumsh coming here shortly.

Along with a few of the others from my own clan, and of course those like Wifne and Rose from our vassal villages. Or the Tavern owning Kobold sorcerer...I sighed. What an odd world I lived in when things like this were still the least weird things that occurred.

"Did all go as wished with the blacksmiths my husband?" Missy asked curiously of me, and Ghorza, as she took her own 'throne' to the other side of my red chain-mail armoured second wife.

I nodded as I undid my sword belt and draped off the side of my seat, weapons should always be at hand sadly in this day and age, especially with meeting visiting chieftain's sons of non-allied tribes. Even doubly-so when said visiting chieftain's son was the bloody future Gruumsh-made-Flesh and seemingly guided here by the Boss. After all I'd spend several hours after he'd appeared using to the Tome of Wiki to discover whatever I could of him and this Crag's outing wasn't mentioned. Then again...I wasn't there either so...

"Better than I'd expected, still worse off than what I'd have liked though..." I answered back honestly relaxing into the chain and resting my arms on the chair hands. Okay this wasn't a bad idea really; I liked my comfy chairs after all "...lots of recruits coming in. That is good. Arming them less so unfortunately, though we've got a decent production line of pike heads with the recently trained apprentices which is something"

Ah the lightly armoured, or totally unarmoured Pikeman; the favoured weapon for soldiers of low production capacity peasant armies throughout another world's history. And me right now for the increasing numbers of recruits...young, poor, recruits lacking weapons and armour of their own...for our Illuskan Legions.

Because simply put equipping them all based on what we'd got stored, or can produce, wasn't going to happen I'd found out. That and a significant quantity of our remaining stores were of 'human/elf size' since...well...we'd captured them from humans and elves, and orcs were bigger than both generally. Anything we could modify at this stage had we had modified by and large.

Ghorza snorted in amusement "We've got plenty ah weapons my mate, you worry too much on such things I find. Were ye the one sayin' we needed lots more long spears ta handle da Uthgardts on their horses weren't ya Karg?"

Sadly there was a bit of difference between heavily armoured pike formations with shields like a phalanx and a tightly packed formation with neither as we discussed the matter while various vassals arrived around the campfire. Yes they'd be very strong up against infantry and heavy cavalry, but they were going to take heavy casualties up against missile troops, field artillery and offensive magic users.

Her idea to put archers or crossbow orcs at the front, with a line of armoured and shielded orcs behind such, was good. It was much like the musket trimmed pike tercios of Earth upon a time after all. Still it was the fact of having soldiers to train, and lack of ideal weapons to arm them with, which meant we'd be training up several companies of light pike over the winter. Honestly it was surprisingly debate...then it was time to face the danger head on.

"Greetings Obould of Many-Arrows, I welcome you to our campfire. Please, join us to feast, we would be glad hear your of your adventures, and what word you bring from your clan's kingdom" I said to the approaching orc warrior and his small entourage, slightly older shaman included. Remaining seated as I did so, best to remind our visiting 'Prince' whose lands these were after all; while I had a different view of how to do so than Oggy and the others we all agreed on that.

"I...greet you in return Holy Shaman, in the name of Many-Arrows, and gladly accept your offer" he grumbled off after a moment's gazing around and a nod from the shaman at his side after a glance between the two.

Gods he was so bloody young! When he'd first arrived I had barely believed he was who he actually was, the only drawing in the Tome of Wiki was of Old Obould on his throne...and this was just turned adult adventurer Obould rather than that fellow. Still it was fucking nerve wracking as I gave a wave towards the space nearby my household and before the cooking meat over the campfire. Off in the distance the sounds of the village celebration were starting it seemed from the noise and now lit bonfire.

I motioned at the various individuals siding in semi-circle "These are warrior captains within the clan..." good introductions were longwinded and thirtsty work "...and our loyal vassals of the..." that was debatable but that was just the nature of things "...and these are my females and children..." honestly I'd rather they weren't here with a future Exarch nearby but...that was life.

So I finished up the long winded naming of every single bloody person around the feasting fire down to my bodyguard Hreshgk. At least Lua behaved herself...or well opted for drinking and resting against my leg while looking on at us all in amused, but silent, interest. His own introductions at least answered what I'd suspected - the Shaman at his side was Arganth Snarrl as mentioned in the Tome of Wiki. Another of the One Eye's lot, though not in Phargk's league in terms of power as I listened to his own greeting after 'his charge' had introduced him.

Even if they weren't who I knew them to be I'd have listened since they'd turned up with several dozen warriors under their banner; all of which were surprisingly well armed and armoured for an orcish warband. Disciplined too, this was even rarer outside of my own lot amongst orc warbands, even if not up to our own levels as best my own captains could observe.

'Well this is all rather bland conversation so far, might as well be talking about the weather' I mused to myself while eating a haunch of the cooking and following it up with a gulp of the ale brewed here in the village. Or at least they were trying to figure us out perhaps as they allowed several of the others at the fire talk of the recent 'great victory' over the Uthgardt and the noise of the villagers doing their debauchery off in the moonlit distance around their bonfires.

Prudes they were not I'd found and it seemed tales of pre-christian agricultural deities were at least partially true. Still time to get something of decent conversation going with the guests as Cardac muttered of beating sense into young idiots to various chuckles, guests included, from around the campfire.

"You have said you have received visions of a quest Obould of Many-Arrows? Mayhap we can aid you in some manner as shamans of Illusk? Though one must ask also what brings you to our new kingdom in the Crags. We are currently at war with the Heretic Warlord Wyrmog and sadly can aid you little in your task I expect"

"Aye, we have heard of such battles in the North. That your warriors vanquished Wyrmogs in his very stronghold and had forged a new kingdom here in these mountains..." he rumbled out crunching down some meat of his own "...and beyond what visions the Gods have granted me, that in part is why we have come to your lands"

"We are honoured to hear word of our warrior's courage and our victories have reached even to the mountains of the Spine" not really, it seemed word was just getting out about us much sooner than I'd have liked. The fact Obould and Shaman Snarl were here at all were a sign my original strategy have failed miserably at least amongst the orcs clans farther away. He grunted and the young orc he was shone through rather than the warrior-king he would be.

"You shouldn't be, shaman, it's not a good thing..." a glance from his shaman friend seemed to make him drop the temporary earnest seeming response for the calmer more thoughtful one he'd had till now "...ah. But word reached Many-Arrows before our departing that the Great King Grol, and his heir, Grenier of the Spine had also heard of such battles and the rise of a new kingdom perhaps. My father would bid me tell you, Holy Shaman, and your Chieftain that the Warlord of the Crags, as he calls himself, has sought out and received the aid and alliance of the old King Grol"

The older, though not by much as best I could tell, shaman nodded "Aye Shaman of Clan Sparta, it is true, and words have been said of it perhaps been due to clashes between your clans and that of the old King, and between him and thy High Shaman; he of the Blood Moon Ritual, Phargk the Skinweaver"

I nodded "Perhaps one cannot not know the mind of such an old orc as King Grol, but our thanks for telling us as you have, Obould, and Snarrl, of Many-Arrows, and...what of your own King's opinion of such an alliance and our war? Many-Arrows I believe is...vassal...to King Grol and his folk I believe?"

Because wasn't that just a kick in the teeth. It also explained why the Furry Fucker had vanished from sight since his defeat by Zah and co. earlier in the year. And I'd believe it too; Stormfang had been mobile largely because it'd clashed with other clans back in the Spine before I was born. One of which was the clan from which the dude calling himself King of the Spine of the World was from evidently. Plus Darth Phargk had made himself an enemy of him as well at some point in the past seemingly? Wasn't that just great! Because no way this far away fellow wanted a new orcish Kingdom emerging and let by people with reason not to like him very much.

A barely hidden 'but not forever' or something to that effect was almost mouthed by the younger orc Prince, before he replied with a grunt to me and my vassals. Several who looked fired up by the news if anything. Probably because of the greater challenge and the fact it was us being acknowledged as 'truly strong' that powerful warlords and kings feared us. Typical orcish warrior I found even amongst the smarter ones "My Father is...indecisive on such things. But there are those of us who feel Old King Grol grows weak and foolish and needs to be given a bloody nose. Even if through his heretic pawn! The Gods agree...the one you serve I believe Holy Shaman. Visions have been gifted to be of battles and glory, the chance to prove myself worthy of the power of the Great Citadel of Many-Arrows. We would aid thee in..."

--

When: After, During?, Harvest, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift

News, much news; some of it good, some it bad, and some of it I'm not sure of as yet. So I've got Obould Many-Arrows running around my encampment with his clan shaman and bodyguard, and had a long chat with him the other night in regards what the fuck he's doing here. From what word he's got that appears to be due to the arrival of word of our little kingdom taking shape in the Crags in the Spine; good news he's technically here to open relations in basic terms.

Bad News this is mostly because that furry loving bastard Wyrmog ran off to the King of the Spine, the biggest badest badass Orc one anyway, and beg for aid in crushing us. Considering my clan's relationship with several of the clans in the far Northern mountains...well no surprise I suppose he'll be getting his fresh army next year most likely. So in strictest terms Obould is here, at least by his father understanding I think, for helping us defeat the King Grol back Wyrmog with his band of warriors (and bring word) and thereby weaken the power structure of the orc kingdom Many-arrows is technically vassal too and then...

Yes, Orc political manoeuvring ain't it grand. Well no its not right now I'll say actually, because come the spring or summer we'll have that Furry Fucker and his new mates coming at us full bore once again. And in the meantime I'm going to have gods-damned Obould and his shaman lurking around the stronghold looking around things and asking questions best not answer. Oh and did I mention that Holy Books mention a certain bloody Drow and his mates wandering very bloody close to my clans bloody borders while all this bullshit is about to go down?

Because he is. What's worse the Boss is apparently encouraging this course of action through some rather vague, yet oddly specific at times, of visions to our new guest. Who's on a great adventure because of them, most likely in preparation for his own challenging for power within his clan in the coming years I'd expect. Honestly he's not what I expected in truth; he's a young hot head, albeit a frightening intelligent one, and he's curious too. This is good and bad of course in varying ways; though at least my lot know to keep their mouths shut about military strength and the like here in valley.

Okay getting away from that walking problem that is Gruumsh-made-Flesh, though I suspect the Boss Orc has other plans on that point anyway. So the main point of note is that we had a bumper harvest, thanks to Rose and her Granny Wifne there, and it's been drawn in as I write. Agricultural magic is rather amazing in how it works I've found, even compared to what I'd have seen from 'modern agriculture' in another place and time in terms of actual output. One becomes two...somehow...and now we've got full larders and even the new barns I'd had constructed are full to the brim. Evidently the Grain Goddess is happy with the sudden boasting in power for the usual rituals. Go us I guess!

That and Rose's villagers got to engage in their usual round of debauchery, sorry, religious rituals that never appeared any of the games for instance. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only sane one as Oggy things their perfectly logical just like our own sacred traditions. Etc, etc, etc. Not that I can criticize of course due to getting rather drunk and having a harem and...my second life is rather weird I've found. Still Oggy and Missy think we did an excellent job impressing our guest and vassals so that's a positive – ruling is much show-orcship than just actually doing ruler things. And at least Lua held of being, well, Lua, till after most of said vassals had departed so there was that I guess.

For now the great plan is to produce some enchanted weapons and armour for the 'elite' amongst our Spartan warbands, and for those close to me too of course. One has to look after one's own first, if you try to help everyone then you end up helping no-one usually. In regards myself I've being working with my 'team of magical consultants' to create a 'spell sword' of sorts; I'd call it a cross between a spell-book and spell staff in the form of a shortsword. I got the idea from something a Drow Wizard did according to my Tome of Wiki – it's nowhere like that, but it'll give me a series of spells to utilise secondary to my Holy Blade. Sadly I'd have to 'restock' the spells, but since I can't cast them yet myself anyway...

Must go, planning to do with Missy and Doctor Ned on how to achieve my mad thought process on the blade, and then on basically convincing villagers to give me hostages/school-children over the winter to train. Slan go foil a chardai.

--

When: Autumn, 1355 Dale Reckoning

Where: Home Sweet Home.

Bloody rain, course it waited till we'd started marching back before coming on and now it's looking like we'll be getting a storm soon enough from the angry clouds swirling off to the east. Winds are picking up all day too so I'm guessing my 'resident weather orcs' are right in their predictions. Of course one of those is bloody Malchor Harpell who turned up about three days ago just before we were about to leave Zybelin's Drift and head home.

So great – now I've got Obould, the freaking Harpell Archmage here in Sparta...oh and Zah's glorious army is only hours away and quick marching for home. So this is my brief break period before I get another few days of insanity to deal with. Or weeks/ten-days till the season ends possibly. I can now say with total certainty; my plans to lay low have failed so utterly as to be impressive somehow in their absolute dreadfulness. If you're gonna fail, then fail big and memorable I say! (because I have to really to not bang my head off the wall)

Anyway Halguk and Greshka who I'd sent off to play apprentices have returned alive and unharmed, and without murdering anyone either which even better. What I wasn't expecting was veritable small army of trade wagons within their evidently massively desperate traders. So desperate they'd willingly come out to an orc stronghold to trade with savage orcs.

Now I'll admit the fact Malchor Harpell is with them, along with a decent enough escort of Longsaddle militia, very poor looking mercenaries, and some murder-hobos. Yes just I wanted in my town; more fecking adventurers with little to do, though at least their all under guard and sleeping at the moment before I let a market start. *on that note I've also trebled my guard shifts with their presence*

I've still to have a proper meeting with our guests, only the briefest conversations and what my subordinates have reported, but the rest of the north seems to going to hell in a hand-basket. Luskan and Neverwinter have been bashing the nine hells out of each other evidently, and the roads are basically closed since spring so that info is pretty old.

One weird thing is that the King of Shadows is still being mentioned to the south of Neverwinter in the Mere. This news, honestly, is rather odd as I thought would have been finished up by now – at least according to the Holy Books. Of course this rumour could be months or years out of date, so not sure what to decide there. I hate this slow info spread world versus having information at your fingertips.

I'll just have to have a proper conversation with the various parties in that caravan to see whatever is known before making any plans based on the info. Though I think I'd just settle for getting Zah and the returning, with its very much expanded baggage train it seems, brought inside the walls of our fair city. That and make there isn't any outbreaks of violence from murder-hobos trying to free slaves, or just rob us for whatever less moral reason the come up with.

Now I'm not averse to selling the slaves in the 'buy their freedom if you want' method. But funnily enough that's when the interest dies for most of these paragons of moral virtue – it might be something to do with parting with their own coin rather than 'rescuing' and 'liberating' the 'loot' of the 'evil bad guys' in the process. Funny dat innit?.

So for the moment I've got a tent city down the slope from the stronghold, the levy army camped between us and said sleeping traders, and then human children to ensure get placed somewhere nice and safe under Rose's helpful guidance. Most of minions know well not to challenge Rose and personal guard, or Oggy's, when they say "NO FUCKIN HARM SHALL COME TO THEM" in relation to these temporary wards of the state. All I can is that it was good that about two dozen village women came along from both villages to help herd the young'uns.

Now I've too...

Apologies must go. Doctor Ned is evidently waiting on me to get our ward laying plan for the night started. Then it'll be time to train with him and Missy. Seems time just flies by and now its back to sever days of exhausting work, conversations, and yet more feasting. Night for now.

--

[Zahgorim 22]

Stronghold of Sparta, the Crags

He huffed in annoyance at the soft raining coming down from the sky as the mists swirled off against the mountains in the barely visible distance. There was a storm rolling into the valley it looked like to his eyes as he focused back on the weary warriors marching through the gates into the stronghold. Hardly the triumphant return he'd planned, but once they got everyone settled him he could get out of this blasted rain and get down to the feasting.

Unfortunately was some time away as he roared at some particularly stupid idiots who'd managed to topple over their cart in mud and thereby slowed everyone behind them up. Much as he'd like to let the group behind them beat them senseless, or dead, that'd just mean he'd be stuck out in this gods damned drizzly rain till the storm proper rolled in. Because that wouldn't be much fun to be standing around in he knew from experience, even without a large group of outsiders, humans mostly, encamped just outside the stronghold from the village of mad wizards.

"Zah, good to see yer back in one piece!" Karg greeted striding out of the drizzle with Oggy and a few of their guards at their back. Zahgorim grinned beneath his helm and brought both into a fierce bear hug one after the other, and once he was sure Oggy wouldn't snarl and be angry at him for some reason he likely wouldn't understand.

"Ah it is good to be back, even if it's full ah shitty, shitty, rain like always!" he replied with a laugh "Out to welcome back the conquerin' warchief eh guys? Hear ye were busy killin' them damned humans that like pretend their proper orcs while I was away! Good fun ah hope? Anyway where's Breyza and Breyjuk?"

Oggy snorted with amusement and annoyance as she broke the embrace "They be comin' you big bulky brute! Some of the clan were tryin to get some rest when you arrived back you know? Breyza and yer whelps being one of'em!"

'Good!' he thought with a grin "Great, she'll be all rested and refreshed when she an' the others welcome back us conquerin' heroes!"

She grumbled at him "Is feasting and fucking all that goes through that thick skull of yers?"

"Hey! Those are two of my favourite things do I have to remind you!" he retorted cheerfully as she glanced at the nearby form of his little half-elf Sylfine and her ever growing stomach. Oggy let out a rumbling sighed and shook her head in that way she'd done since they were whelps.

"Yeah, looks like that is the true don't it Zah?"

He puffed up his chest inside his armour like the proud warchief he was "Yep, I am awesome that is true aren't I Sylfine?"

The half-elf slave bowed her head respectfully to him hands on belly "Yes Master it is beyond true, I had not believed it possible till it occurred"

"See so awesome even elves can't get enough of the Zahgorim! Breyza'll be delighted got another whelp on the way I'd guess!" he told them brightly as Karg just rubbed at his face a moment, muttering under his breath while he did so "Anyway I don't think ye want to hear how awesome this orc is...that'll be for the feast later...so your wantin' to know about my other awesome adventures I'm guessing?"

"Well for the moment I'd settle for where Shaman Phargk and the rest of the army is, and the story behind the big auld baggage train you got with you now?" Karg asked nodding at the warriors marching past them. Good solid clan-orcs this time under the Spartan banner with a wagon and slaves taken from one of the crushed southern clans in tow behind. Zahgorim shrugged.

"The Holy wished to return to his clan with the Night-tombs share of the spoils, as did Chief Jernak a few days ago his contingent once word reached us that you'd won against the Uthgardt. He wanted to get the harvest and cattle herds in for the winter, and get their slaves from the defeated southern orc clans brought into his clan proper he said. They'll be comin' here before winter comes along with the chiefs and shamans of those who swore to our horde's cause once they set their own clans in order..." he grinned "...as too the great haul of loot, well, we sacked an ancient elven fortress-tree yoke, that were full of magic elf zombies and orc eating bush-tree-thingies. Burned'em all out but there was decent old stuff beneath it and from the bodies of the humans who'd been there doing some ritual or such for their evil human good. We killed them, and some trolls...who arrived from somewhere for whatever reason...and that was an awesome battle..."

"Your just making this up now aren't you?" Karg asked giving him a look of 'I'm not sure whether to believe what you're saying now because it sounds like complete bullshit'

Zahgorim spread his arms in a' you have to trust me' gesture "Hey it was a damned hard fought battle let me tell ya. Not my fault you missed all the madness Karg! Took some nasty damned losses Gods truth be told, but we won through after all the strange shit that got thrown at us. And that was after we crushed everyone an' anyone that follows that bastard Wyrmog to the south of us, and some human bandits, and some elves, and loadsa other fellas who needed a bit, or alot, of a crushin"

"What sort of loot we talking about from this elven fortress Zah?"

"Lots of elfy shaped weapons and armour mostly..." he answered his friends question and patted at the new curved dagger at his hip "...even got this awesome new elfy knife for cutting up my meat and stabbin' enemies with. I call it Old'Stabby!"

Karg gave a glance at the rather fancy dagger with its ruby studded silvery hilt "I think that's meant to be a short sword Zah what with elven height..." his friend frowned "...Mithril?"

Zahgorim grinned, pulling it out a fraction and showing off the fancy metalwork "Eyup. Cuts through stuff like you wouldn't believe too! Lucky I found the scabbard too or be hard to carry it about with me!"

He motioned at the army, as it marched through the misty rain to the awaiting warmth and shelter within the stronghold "Good pile of stuff like that, too small for our warriors but I figured we can fit some of our auxlia or maybe the scrawnier females of our own. Got a decent enough haul too off the human evil priests and their minions, but we've already put that on anyone that'll fit into it after the High Shaman and yer acolytes exorcised and blessed what we stripped off the bodies"

Karg nodded and glanced at Oggy who'd been studying the wagons far off at the rear of the line and those numbers walking with them "What are the numbers like for slaves and captured females?"

"Mostly enemy clan-orcs, six clans choose to fight to either the death...well, enslavement..." he nodded to Karg "...look we even gave'em that chance to surrender a second time after blood had been drawn like ya wanted Karg, but that's how it worked out. Gave goodly numbers to High Shaman Phargk and Chief Jernak's bunch but still hundreds all in all, mostly females and whelps, and much of the cattle and sheep they'd got. Got a few humans and elves and dwarves who fought again' us in chains too like ye wanted; skilled labourers and what not as you call'em..."

He pointed way back down the line a large cluster of non-orcs at the rear sandwiched between squads of his warriors"...and got dozens and dozens of others who we didn't chain up like I did with my village last time about. Say their fleein' some great darkness off to the south and didn't have much choice but to follow us when I laid out our terms. Promised them land to farm and the like as long as they supply us with food and goods when we demand it"

Give us what we want and we'll go away, resist and die. Though his Sylfine and the few others like her had made convincing these 'refugees' as she'd called them really easy on the facts of life in the Crags. It was strange how most of the non-orc settlements had taken one look at the Illuskan Legion, their banner, then at their terms before swearing to serve the new power in the Crags.

Most had been less happy at the idea of being garrisoned and providing 'taxation' as Karg called it into the future. Or that levies would have to provided as many fearful 'recruits' for the auxlia back in the line had found out. In exchange they'd get protection from a powerful and strong orc kingdom. Win-win in Zahgorim's view...well mostly win for him and Illusk but considering the state of many of those places they were winning in a way too...

"...anyway what're all them wagons and tents you want to keep my warriors away from till we've talked?"

Karg sighed and folded his arms across his red armoured chest "Oh it's the Longsaddle lot as I said, but there's alot more of them than we'd planned. Seems there's war everywhere, or 'monsters' sometimes as they put it, and traders need someone to trade with since the roads are closed. There's also damned murder-hob...adventurers amongst them as guards and I want to keep things nice and orderly when the tired warriors turn into drunken warriors later on tonight, tomorrow and the rest of the ten-day"

'Makes sense me' Zahgorim mused to himself. Drunken fights and duels were to be expected after all "And what of your battle with the Uthgardt? What're we facing?"

"Oh don't ask Karg, he keeps whinin' cause he didn't get to wipe them all out. He'd make out that we'd lost or something..." Oggy muttered glancing at Karg with a roll of the eyes "...anyway that lot leading them didn't look like any Uthgardt I've ever seen. Yeah, yeah, there were some of those weaklings like the usual ones amongst them but the most of them were sent by one of the human cities to kill us all. As they always do Zah, even Karg's crazy necromancer thinks so. Someday we'll have to burn that place down cuz it'll be them or us in the end"

"Ehh probably..." Zahgorim agreed with a shrug "...I'm more inclined we kill off Warlord Wyrmog and his lot, then the Uthgardter savages before think about that"

Karg frowned "Yeah...about that furry fucker Wyrmog. Seems he went off to..."

--

[Vaerier 06]

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

The tavern was packed today, exhaustingly so as she spun on her feet in response to rhythm of her daughter's singing and her own beating of the hand drum as she brought it over her head as she moved. Hands were clapping now in unison to the beat as well, not a surprise to her mind as it was a rather ribald and popular song to go along with her dance. Well better those hands be clapping to the beat than trying to grope at her she noted in her mind as she used her free hand to beat the small hand-drum, causing the small cymbals attached to it to clink and tinkle with the drum beat.

"The hostess, the cousin and servant, we find!"

As her Katya's voice sang out bright and clear she twisted back, twirling and shaking as seductively as she could as the crowd in the common road sang the refrain drunkenly and raucously as she waved her arms at them to encourage everyone help her daughter finish up the last few lines.

"Hey down, ho down, lacking even a piece of copperrrrr!"

Katya was a good singer, and still Franja could hear her clear and confident over the voices of the visiting non-orcs from the village of Longsaddle "Made curtsies and thanked them for being so kind"

Franja did one last wild dance around before falling to her knees dramatically and joining her own voice to the dozens of voices that joined into finish the song "Without even a piece of copperrrrrr!"

Roaring cheers erupted from the gathered crowd as the she gave the hand-drum one last shake to rattle the small metal cymbals as she tried to catch her breath again. The tavern was very warm, and even with her more revealing garb this night the sweat clung to her skin after three dances for the enjoyment of the visiting, mostly human but for a few half-breeds and two dwarven born, clientele that Master Menkin wanted to please.

Still it felt glorious to her despite the tiredness she was already feeling; she'd much rather be here in the common room's warmth than out in the storm roaring outside that thick wooden walls of the tavern itself. After a short few seconds to gather her strength again she pushed herself back up to stand, bowing and spreading her arms wide in thanks at the applause and whistles, calling out loudly to everyone in the common tongue.

"Thank you kindly for your enjoyment of this humble dancer's performance fair patrons! My Master, the glorious Menkin, wishes for you to enjoy this night regardless of the weather that assail us once again! Now I must end my dance and return to work...why I must give all of thee a chance to order more ale, beer, or whatever drink a weary traveller could require!"

That brought another round of cheers, or drunken roars anyway, as she walked forward shaking her hips as several of the men rose from their tables to follow her. Gods above it seemed even out here in the wild savage lands the most simple of things could get a fool to part with his coin. A hand reached out towards her as she walked towards the bar, not even bothering to glance at it she slapped it away; the laughs of the boys older 'adventurer' friends mocking the youngster for attempting and failing at it. Well mostly jeers, the female amongst them scolding him, and the others, by the words drifting to her ears before she was away and in front of the bar.

"Dia, I hope you've got the barrels up here and open?" she asked firmly. The young tiefling woman bobbed her head quickly in response as to her side the half-orc Scadua handed out a another flagon of cider and took in the coins for it. Much of the crowd would likely be staggering back under guard to their own encampment soon enough she expected, and Master Menkin was rather intent on getting in as much coin, or merely getting enough debt built up with certain groups, before they did.

"Yes Miss Vaerier, it is done as you commanded" the young tielfling replied quickly with a quick bowing of the head in a sign of obedience towards Franja. Something which was good she noted, because a decent crowd was now coming towards them looking for it as she moved behind the counter. Master wanted to restock the cellars in the next few ten-days after all, and the more they sold these next few nights the more pleased he would be with them. And if he was well pleased then they may even earn a reward for it.

"Good Dia, your on the floor now with Scadua after we clear this surge..." she starting laying out instructions to them in rapid-fire as her daughter and Nasiri the halfling came back to help as well. Because the more the drunk the clientele got the worse they became, but with they were far less likely grabby with the tiefling girl she'd found, and the more orcish seeming half-orc girl too. Mostly in a reverse of the orcs themselves where Scadua got more attention than her own Katya would, meaning it best to have her daughter or herself on the floor serving duty...

...as usual time seemed to blur by as one face after another asked/demanded/muttered-unintelligibly a drink, occasionally a piece of meat or bread, or even a potion in one case. Outside the howling of wind and rain could be heard, especially when the door was opened and closed by the guards provided by the shaman for the tavern's security. Especially tonight as they served to stomp on anyone threatening to start a fight, or think they could get away with things they wouldn't have in a human town, whether they been orc or human.

Three such individuals were already locked in crude stocks outside to punish them for a fight earlier according to what some of the customers blabbered. Good, they deserved it was her opinion on the matter considering the mess they'd caused. Soon though it seemed it was well into the night, past midnight even, and the numbers had thinned somewhat as a large group of them were escorted back to their encampment through the rain and wind by an orc squad. Not a surprise to Franja that the Orc's rulers wouldn't want a bunch of these wandering 'adventurers' roaming around the 'town' regardless of the weather; she certainly wouldn't want them doing so either after all!

'Course the ones that are left are the wealthier ones and their guards' she noted with amusement that nothing much had changed their either as Master Menkin talked with a table of six with her Katya standing by his side head bowed as translator. Or just as a display of power, and a distraction, to the humans mostly by her Master since his language skills were much better than he let on she'd found since he'd taken ownership of her. A click of scaly fingers as he glanced in her direction brought her over to his side with a deep bow.

"How may I serve you Master Menkin?"

"Vaeriers havings big rooms mades above ups for guests yes-yes, sendings ones of others doings its thoughs, leavings wine or brandies for thems as wells! Menkins wantings youse waitings in back room of cellar for commanding whens readies!" he ordered with a wave of his hand at the table "...ands theys foods is not for payings. Menkins and thems have dealings. Understandings?"

"Yes Master Menkin, as you command" she replied with another bow, and moving over to the others to do just that. Nasiri the halfling was the one who ended up getting that duty by dint of her being nearest, and also somewhat because she was from civilized lands and would ensure the standard would be better than likely expected in an orc stronghold.

They'd had some practice at it after all in the past few days as humans like those talking to Master Menkin found out that the Longsaddle mage and his guards, who'd come here during the spring, had opted to stay in Master's tavern rather than out in the encampment proper. Evidently the warm fluffy beds they could sleep in being preferred to on the ground inside a (currently probably soaked!) tent or basic structure provided by the orcs. Now every night a group or two seemed to enquire into it, though not all were able to afford whatever favour or deal Master Menkin wanted in exchange for the several day, or ten-day, long stay in the newly expanded tavern.

Descending the wooden stairs into the large cellar she shivered slightly at the chillier air and cold stone beneath her currently bare feet rather than the wood above. Master Menkin, with some support from the Orc Shaman's own Archmage evidently, had managed to place some sort of cold magic on this part of tavern where it was created between up of the solid rock walls formed on either side of the depression it was in.

Still it was a wonderful break from the sweltering heat above them, and from her own efforts throughout the day and she slid to her knees to wait with a relaxed sigh. Thankfully she didn't have to wait long as Master Menkin strolled down to her staff tapping off the ground as he walked and she rested her forehead on her hands and knelt forward with them on the stone floor "What is your command Master?"

"Heads ups, hard hearings Menkin finds..." he told her; scrambling up unto a small barrel to sit upon it she saw as she brought her head up and rested her hands on her knees "...nows Menkins needs Vaeriers doing countings of coins and stock takings tomorrows. Now alls harvest in, and storm, Menkin thinks cans gets place filled up with booze betters and for less than if waits till snows falls. Is lots stuffs nows Menkin thinks and not manys wanting yet, buts when snows and springs comes after then there be much less and it costings more..."

He paused and brought clawed hands together as if thinking about something "...hssssss, and some of humans brings with them wagons of things. Woulds be better to bring Vaerier's or Feuryon's with him to checkings these things before payings? Which of youse would knowing better?"

"I would be Master, Feuryon was too young to have seen much of these trades being done, while I would have some small involvement with such, both legal and less so, for one or two of those taverns I worked for and therefore have better knowledge of the prices of such things in human lands"

"Hhsssss...hhhhsss...yes-yes, is for best. Menkin thinkings brings boths and you can teachings Feuryons while also exercising youse once storms over. Grounds be full muds Menkin things and best have two helps with its. Nows lets talks" he replied after a short consideration and he began to question the takings for the day. He motioned at her and she waited for the spell. Once upon a time she'd been terrified of it, the lose of control but now it was just weary resig...

"Master! Thank you for blessing me with your magic! Please command me as to how best to serve you tonight?" she asked her wonderful and glorious kobold owner with genuine good cheer. Why wouldn't she be anything but happy when grovelling before the powerful and glorious someday-in-the-future-would-be-a-dragon that was her owner?

"Is nothing much Vaerier's, Menkin's very happy with hows you working. But Menkin not have time getting report for rest of ten-day maybe, and been little while now, so best do nows and then youse can rests laters and I order youse have pleasant dreams..." Vaerier beamed at that, she had no idea how it worked but it did and even her sillier side that didn't want to worship Master Menkin enjoyed it. It was obviously because Master was the greatest kobold sorcerer ever! "...nows what you things of how training is going with the others? And what you thinkings of how Feuryon is developing as Menkins personal slave? Any advice you can give to help with trainings?"

She smiled happily, eager to serve "Of course Master, I..."

--

Note:

Yeah I know some don't like the Vaerier chapters, but I think its a good way to show how things interact at the lower levels (there's several indicators about the Longsaddle lot hinted at her rather than outright stated in the Diaries) with everything. Also of the rather terrifying nature of charm/dominate spells, but also of the fact of people adapting to the situation. Menkin is Lawful Evil - but in the long termist sense and wants his slaves to be the best the can be...so they can serve him better basically. Still he's rather horrifying in my view...so...

Yeah basically its a micro level view of the macro level events occurring of the Harpells meeting with the Illuskans.

[Interlude 07]

--

[An Apprentice of the Host Tower]

'The scum and flotsam of the world' she thought to herself as she held back a sneer at the mercenary scum that passed by. The city was full of them, calling themselves 'adventurers' sometimes, Free Companies at others, but she knew what they were truly; all muscle no brains fodder for the war, useful vermin in service to the Host Tower's growing power. Something, one day, she - Sydney the Genius Apprentice, would be amongst the ranks of. It was her destiny after all. She was better, smarter, and more ruthless in the than her fellow apprentices had been.

'This is just a minor setback on your path to glory! That is all!' she reminded herself as she entered the inn, avoiding the gaze of the riff-raff sitting around the common room. More fools brought to the city in the wake of the great victory a season back over the forces of Neverwinter. A few glanced in her direction, but she ignored them and strode past and up the stairs towards where her room for the past few months was.

Soon she would be in a room within the Tower itself thanks to Master Dendybar who had seen her worth despite the...vicious rumours...spread by those who were jealous of her greatness amongst the other apprentices. After all how was she supposed to know that the mage Doctor Ned who she'd managed to finagle for extra studies was a powerful necromancer that decided to try fighting it out with the Host Tower by setting dozens of ghouls, back up by other undead, upon the city itself in his doing so. Gods in their heavens but seemed like this eccentric imbecile with a talent at flesh shaping!

'If I'd known he was basically a Master Necromancer I'd have killed a few beggars if need be and he could have taught me that! Stupid Sydney! Getting the near Archmage level Necromancer to teach you basic polymorphic theory when he could have been teaching you to summon undead minions to do your bidding!' she berated herself again as she unlocked the door to her rented accommodation, then locked it again as she entered with both the key and a lock spell. It was bad enough that suspicion had fallen upon her for receiving lessons from the man...

"But...Ugghhhhhhh!" she groaned to herself for the hundredth time as she threw he satchel of books on her less than entirely comfortable bed "...if I'd known! I'd make the best damned necromancers apprentice ever! We'd find a crypt and I'd raise my own minions and show them all how deserving I am of a place in the Host Tower. Perhaps even find my first steps along my path to immortality via Necromancy!"

She huffed as she sat on the bed. Sadly it was not to be, instead the fucking gods be damned pink-green-and-blue clad fop had vanished off into the night with his assistants. Who were supposedly Harpers, just like he was as well, and had been plotting against the Host Tower as always. Truly she wouldn't have thought those irritating enemies would have necromancers amidst their ranks, nor a drow either, but thinking about it now the sheer colourful dress, hyperactively cheerful personality (obviously it was a front!), and choice of public 'career' in the city...

She shook her head at how the man had been basically rubbing what he was in everyone's faces by his choice of cover identity. Really it should have been apparent when someone the older mages called 'Dread Ned' or the 'Laughing Death of the Howling Horror' started acting like some cheerful nature loving druid or priest of a fun loving God then it should have seemed obvious in retrospect. Damned Dendybar for bringing the man up again today! It wasn't like he was going to resurface anytime soon anyway, so the old bastard was just needling her as always for weakness. But she would prove to him her worth...and then one take that tower from him and stand where destiny intended her. At the Top!

--

[The Wandering Trader-Adventurer]

"You got us beds...In an Inn...In an Orcish stronghold?" Ayanriel muttered at him with disbelief as she fidgeted at her disguise yet again. A sure sign she was under servere stress of course, just like the last time they'd disguised her as a human in Luskan, and the time before that in Skullport, and the time before that in...

He sighed in frustration, they could have this discussion later – when they weren't getting soaked in the roaring storm all around them "Ayan. Yes, Yes I did. With beds, and booze, and all the other things a tavern-inn has. So please, let's not stand here in the cold and head there before we're locked out for the night. We get the wagon and we bring it inside and we get a stall to sell our stuff within the ten-day!"

Beside him Mardych nodded in agreement, wrapping his cloak around himself for some extra warmth "Aye he's right Ayan, its bout' as good or bad as most places we stay, orcs or not, an' the bloomin' wizards leadin' this caravan are staying there as well so not too bad!"

"That isn't a very good reason Mard! Their mad as any lot of mad mages ever were! Everyone knows it!" their elven-pretend-human wannabe mage, really team trap finder and understander of magic crap's value, whined back as behind her the team cleric dressed in leathers and hiding her nature looked impatient. As usual really, girl was a useless priestess in his opinion, bit on the dim side at times, but she could bash heads decent enough when needed. Of course she was a mouthy one as well; as proven again right this moment.

"Oi shove yer whinin' would ya Ayan? We're all damned cold, wet and tired and Tardan's got us room an' board fer the night so quit bitchin' and let's get ta movin' that skinny butt of yours!"

'Voice of diplomacy you are not your holiness' he grumbled internally as he at least managed to herd the argument and the wagon to where some heavily armed and armoured orcs waited in the pouring rain and howling wind. Ayanriel was terrified, for good reason of course with her bloodline, of entering this place. Had been since they'd left with the caravan from Longsaddle after all – but it wasn't like they'd much of a choice if they wanted to keep food in their bellies over the winter they had to keep reminding her!

And it wasn't as if she was the only elf or half-elf amongst the caravan. Nor seemingly amongst the army the orcs in the stronghold here seemed to have built up. Though...the Harp banner gave lie to that a great deal in his opinion. Oh the Harper's weren't known to everyone of course, but this was just blatant from which every group within his organisation had managed to pull it off. It was like they were just waving a bloody red flag to the Luskan and Mirabaran bulls with antics like this; truth be told he wasn't sure whether to be impressed or horrified. Right now his opinion was that this was some scheme of the Blackstaff and his friend over in the Tower of Twilight.

'Not that you can do anything about it either, or complain much at the chance to sell what we've got so not to starve' he thought as he pulled his hood close against the rain as they and the wagon were guided inside the walls. Mirabar and Luskan were at war now as well as with Neverwinter and the roads were death-traps for anything short of a large Free Company, or having powerful mages like this caravan, as the Uthgardt, Orcs-not-of-this-lot, and just monsters in general were raiding everything as the chaos of war descended. Plenty of work of course for an adventuring party true; if there was anyone willing to pay...

...and therein lay the seed of their current troubles of course. Weapons, Armour, Healing Potions, and all the warlike tools of the trade had soared in the past few seasons as first Luskan, and the Mirabar, had begun hoarding all of these for their own battles. And from experience he could guess the next step come the winter, and the even worse the following year, would be that the prices of foodstuffs and many other things would soar up dramatically if the rumours of farms being abandoned to seek the shelter of the towns, and the two northern city-states. Even more-so if the word from the last traders to arrive in Longsaddle from Neverwinter that similar was occurring to the south was true.

He sighed. Wars were often a great time to make a killing at trade...if you were prepared, or just lucky, with supplies beforehand. Sadly he and his own little bad of trader-adventurers with the wagon full of tools, farm implements and such were not. Or at least it hadn't been till they'd come here as from talking to that scaly little lizard who own the tavern these would go for a decent barter with the orcs. It was the best they could hope for, at least he guessed so, and right now that comfy bed was looking more and more appealing with each step through wind and mud...

--

[The Dark Sister]

She danced, revelling in the freedom and joy of the moment as she spun, twisted and danced with wild abandon within the confines of the cavern. There was no audience this day she found as the faint glow from mushrooms bio-luminescence flicked around over her skin and dark walls of the underground. Even the cold hard stone beneath her feet did not bother her as joy soared up within her as she leaped and twirled in mid air, moving through more and more complex movements as the urge hit her and the sweat began to coat her skin despite the chill of the caverns...

She opened her eyes, joy filling her heart at the sight before her and the silvery light that illuminated the taller nude feminine figure that stood before, then danced with her despite the confines of the cavern. Song and laughter echoed out off the walls as the sheer happiness she felt sang out to the world around her even if there was no other mortal nearby to hear it. But that didn't matter as the silvery light danced and flicked as if they were beneath the bright shining moon on the surface above. The voice sang out to her amidst the dance as she gyrated and twirled in ecstasy.

"I fear must give thee a task my beloved child, too send you to the surface and into the cold and danger for danger comes. To perhaps even me, dark prophesies have been given unto me by a foe, or perhaps an ally, who speaks words of cooperation and peace between us. Of mutual needs and goals that would change would have been, or could still be perhaps.

You must go to a place in the north, a new power is rising there amongst the orckind; one that either a chance to avert a dark fate, or perhaps a dark danger itself to our very future. One other of my children has already gone before thee, and you shall things that anger you, sadden you, from their wickedness. But one that can be turned from the path by words as much by the sword..."

Joy, rapturous joy at the smile upon that beautiful face as well as a laugh like the sweetest of bells ringing upon the wind filled the cavern "...and you are greatest amongst all my beloved children in either. A gift has been promised, or a gift for a gift in exchange perhaps, upon your arrival. But the surface grows darker with each passing day, so guard thyself well my beloved child, be safe and brave for I will be with you every step of the way. Go forth to the surface world and travel north..."

--