In My Time of Troubles

by Crossposted

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

26. Entry 26

When: Winter, it's the first days of 1356 Dale Reckoning I believe

Where: Shaman's Tower, Stronghold of Sparta

And it really is winter at the moment, got a bit of respite after the last bad spot of winter snows but then it started again a few days ago so Deep Winter has come in all its fury. Just in time to the annual Midwinter festivities, and the ever fun 'pep-talk' with the Boss orc most likely I expect, that has consumed most of my time alongside stomping down on drunken violent idiocy. Or keeping the peace between my clan, all the new recruits, and our new allies, as one could more politely put it I guess.

We're not typical orcs anymore and there's always friction with large numbers of new clan members joining for glory rather than being absorbed like in previous years by us defeating them. Still the place runs alot like a mercenary camp as much as large town, or like a semi-permanent Roman Legion camp from my past life perhaps, or at least I imagine so from consulting the Tome of Wiki.

All things being honest the things needed to keeping orcs somewhat 'civilized' (sorta) are amble food, booze, females, and of course the iron gauntlet approach to law enforcement. It's surprised me that I've managed to gather together a decent enough core of 'Lawful' aligned individuals to impose that level of order without me being constantly there. Though to be fair more mercenary orientated clans like the Moonblades already have something somewhat equivalent if less developed, and those rat bastards in the Blood Axes are clearly cribbing my notes on how to run a clan.

As are a few of our super duper new totally-not-trustworthy allies in minor clans too I suspect based on what's been reported. With the social dynamic I guess that makes sense of some sort; if it's succeeding it tends to be copied essentially. Probably helped by the coming ground swell of marriages I expect. While the Midwinter Festival is generally Luthic's thing, the fact is (largely by accident) for our clan it's largely become something of an Ilneval celebration/strategy session as a side of sorts.

Especially with Darth Phargk and the other chieftains and shamans here and hammering out a little more structure than 'Phargk is the Boss' basically. Largely because if we win, I really want a Kingdom to be formed rather than something that'll crumble immediately, at least before I get a chance to try work at it. In the short term organised armies do better than disorganised hordes, and we probably won't have the numbers advantage over the Furry Fucker and his new friends up North.

Anyway as mentioned, marriages – somewhat in the sense of binding our merry little alliance together by ties of blood and all that happy stuff. Pretty standard 'politics' in this type of society, hell even in most of non-orc Faerun up to elves and dwarves it's pretty common practice. At least for species with strong enough familial bonds anyway because I'm pretty sure kobolds and dragons don't think that way, at least not very much anyway I believe. Oggy's handling much of that part along with Zah's mate Breyza since, well, Priestess of Luthic and the Chieftain's first wife respectively.

Hopefully this'll firm our position with the smaller clans in the same way Wyrmog was binding many of the more stubborn ones to him. Well other than through force of personality and clan of crazed berserkers to impose fear. Because we've already succeeded pretty well at the making them afraid of us, and what's needed now is other more long lasting bindings and drivers. Fear drives people on, but I generally find Hope a better long term prospect for getting them on board, though it's really both working together that's got us where we are so far in my opinion.

In terms of structures everyone largely gets to rule their own jolly little kingdom within our alliance ala feudal lords, or more accurately tribal clan chiefs. Still I have largely managed to win over the important ones over to the position of conquest and integration rather than loot and loot and then loot some more. Probably helped by the fact I can throw very copious amounts of recently produced booze at them as a sign that such a system can work.

I want to build a Kingdom, Phargk wants to either rule one or be remembered for creating some glorious legacy, and Jernak, Old Breyjuk and Zah want to go down as great Warlords who got glory. And in Zah's case assembled a harem of exotic females from various races to show off his glory. Sadly I can't really criticise that too much as I seemingly accidentally created one of my own. Somehow, I'm not entirely sure to be fully honest with you future me, or other reader. Assuming I, we, all survive the coming storm of swords once the greenery of spring comes and can sustain a large fighting horde.

Which is why I've, on Missy advice (with Oggy's and Ghorza's support of said idea) to try convince Mirabar at least to stay off our backs. Well, at least till we can overcome the deadly danger of a very large orcish horde pouring down from the Spine of the World towards us in the Crags. Luskan is against us, which is bad enough, and their support of the Uthgardt is a problem to be honest. I had thought them beaten down and not a threat for a least a few years, but with a few hundred mercenaries and heavy cavalry paladins they're right back up there as a problem.

Ideally what would happen would Mirabar would deploy its Axe against Wyrmog, after calling back those mercenaries and the Uthgardt they suborned somehow, and have a fine big bloody battle that solves both problems for me. See while our Illuskan Legion is taking shape I've no way to know how they stack up against a professional fighting force backed up their own mages. Yes we matched the mercenaries but I'm not sure if they are a standard, or just a fanatic bunch who aren't actually very well trained. I very doubt that'll they'll do me a favour and wipe each other out...but an orc can live and hope they'll have a sudden bout insane idiocy now can't he?

Obvious I've ran this idea by Zah and Old Breyjuk, then Darth Sith-Orcious himself, and gotten a fairly positive response along the lines of 'let them fight' from a monster story. So with that done we're doing it through Doctor Ned and the two lovely, happy, friendly Harpell's here. Bella mostly because I wouldn't trust Harkle not to accidentally start a war with his words. Anywho got Bella and Ned, with Nimmil and a familiar to those related to Captain Krowluc's previous employers, to contact the Harpells in Longsaddle. Then they'll contact the high muckety-mucks of Mirabar, in wizard terms, and arrange a magical conference call of sorts.

Well that's the plan at least, and we've gotten past stage one of getting our lot on board, and two of the Mage-Lord of Longsaddle and his brother Malchor seemingly agreeing to arrange a contact. Indirectly, free of scrying, and all such things somehow. While I'd much prefer to go for anonymity as a strategy the fact is that's completely blown and trying to arrange a truce of sorts doesn't really hurt. Might even help if we're lucky perhaps and let's have one enemy at a time.

Plus it wouldn't be anything unusual for the powers that be around here as best I can tell from the more mercenary background among. Everyone hates orcs, but alot of people pay orcs to either attack someone they don't like more, or at the very least to attack someone else instead of them. Since Mirabar kinda hates Luskan's guts, and probably would rather a major Orcish horde from the Spine not burn their way southward, one can hope we can reach some sort of minimal accommodation. Mutual self-interest and all that should apply in this situation I think.

Beyond that 'diplomacy' amongst orcs and men it's been mostly become a matter of a daily/nightly routine of exercise inside, studying my arcane learning, enjoying family time and, occasionally, sleep. Honestly living standards within the stronghold aren't too bad by medieval standards I think. Crude army camp construction layout and designs or not the buildings are rather solidly constructed, and the walls of the fortress itself are finally fully sealed to keep the heat in.

Getting this lot to do all this was bloody hard, but worthwhile now and widely popular within the clan. Part of it is by the means of trying to match up various needs and make them overlap. Or using creative solutions of some sort; like with our new rather large heated bathhouse which we achieved by nesting it beside our new forge setup. Keeping it clean ironically has proven a rather useful way for training my bands of Battlestaves and Warswords I might add; clean water is a big advantage to an army on the move.

Yes we orcs have tough constitutions but certain things still do kill us and, a little more practically, I'd like to avoid being complete dependent on Yurtus White Hands Priests for that role in our legions. Now of course the Tome of Wiki has helped dramatically, and once we get a basic industry established its oddly enough easier to build from there, or effecting other industries. Like with our paper making 'industry' for instance, paper production is finally at a level that I can actually have scribes.

Okay Orc scribes, but the fact I've got primitive printing presses now means I just need to be able to understand letters and words rather than be any good at writing them. Basic info sheets, and dark, bawdry and crude stories get printed because the first is what I want to teach, and the second is what even idiots want to read. Tris seems to be happy enough to do that for whatever reason, which keeps her busy and happy. So if she's happy with that then I'm happy with that, as is Lua.

Now sadly I must get back to work drawing sigils and runes, then linking them all up with my apprentices and Phargk's lot, for the mass ritual again. Funny, because we've been successful at the bloody thing it means there's general support to keep it going as a tradition. That and the Staff of course granted by the Gods last year and wanting to know what unlocks the other powers within. Luthic's has been unlocked, as was the One Eye's via burning that old elven fortress/city ruin Zah and Co. blundered across in the forests. Don't get me started on...

Anyway time to work I'm afraid.

Slan go foill.

--

[Mara 02]

Stronghold of Sparta

Mara found that Mistress Ogrash's stride was as usual hard to keep up with, following in her wake as quickly as she could move through today's snow. Yet another day of cold, snow, and fog that had dominated the stronghold and the valley beyond for what felt to her like an eternity as another ten-day of winter passed by. She silently thanked the Gods, and Master too, for gifting her and her big sister the heavy fur dresses, boots, and hats that shielded against chill all around them. She remembered that when she'd gotten them in all their pure and white coloring, she'd heard they were from animals caught and killed by gnolls. Amusingly enough, they hid them somewhat as their steps crunched ever so softly off the ground with each step through the faint mists.

She adjusted the weight of the pack upon her back as she nearly stumbled, catching herself at the last moment. Breaking her brisk walk for a moment to rebalance, she let out a breath that steamed on the icy air and moved forward again as quickly as she safely could in case Mistress saw her falter and fall behind. Pleasing Mistress was paramount, she'd learned since starting her new life under her owners. Master was rather easy to please after all, while Mistress Ogrash was harsh but only tended to punish when required rather than just for the amusement of hurting such like her...

The past was the past and best left forgotten she knew shoving any such dire thoughts away. That and a moment's distraction could earn her a punishment for slipping and falling as had nearly happened but a moment ago. Behind her she could hear the shuffling of Mistress one or two guards booted feet on the ground, whining about the cold as best she could tell, as well as see other orcs moving about either fighting... or training as they called it... in this ridiculous weather, or some overseeing slaves. Shoveling snow into wooden barrows to be boiled she expected, or at least to make sure people could move a little as Mistress, Kethri, and herself were doing at the moment.

"Priestess," the big, burly and heavily armored orcs trimmed in furs greeted her Mistress as they came to the entrance to the main keep of the castle and the large wooden doors pulled open to allow them entry. Mara was delighted to be back in the warmth after journeying into the frigid cold to the lower slopes and back up with packs laden upon the return. Despite that she kept her face blank, eyes downcast and obedient, as she followed the taller orcish female inside into the gloom and warmth of the entrance hall. One full of orcs and a few slaves scurrying about, of course. They parted to let Mistress pass upon noticing her entry with staff tapping off the stone floor as she moved.

As they passed she saw banners hung upon the stone walls as usual, and rumbling of voices talking, arguing, and a host of other things she guessed filled her ears beneath the fur ushanka upon her head. She knew that it would be much noisier and more nerve-wracking as the great ceremony the Mistresses and Master had been planning was very soon. All around the great hall she could see the preparations for such: orcs in the dress of clerics, shamans and acolytes moving this way and that checking inscriptions on walls and floors. Many bowed, or merely stood aside, for their Mistress as Mara and her sister followed her deeper into the gloom. Mara tried not to sneeze as the burning of incense burned at her nose in passing and Mistress's voice spoke out in annoyance.

"Not be wasting that by burning it yet Gesktaka! I told you a dozen times we not have mountains and mountains of it! No make sure not burns anyway more till I tell you!"

Mistress barely broke stride after stamping down her staff off the floor loudly, Mara hearing the grunted and nervous sounding "Yes Priestess's" from behind her as they walked up the stairways towards the entrance to the younger Orc Chief's bedroom. Guards at the door, in some of the clan's better plate and half-plate armor with crude surcoats upon them with the Chieftain's personal sigil on it, saluted to Mara's Mistress as the escort waited to the side. A loud female voice emerged from the room as the door opened as Mara and Kethri stood waiting behind their Mistress and the guards.

"Ah, good Ogrash yer here. Well let the Priestess in you lot! Don't be all there starin' at the Shaman's mate or he'll set her or one of the others on ye!"

"Heh" Mistress chuckled darkly with amusement as the guards stepped aside and they moved to enter the room beyond "As if I needed Karg, Ghorza or Missy to put this lot in line same as you do Breyza. Are we all ready to get started?"

The room was large, bigger than the one back in the Shaman's Tower, and covered in gaudy colored wall hangings; blood stained banners of other orc clans. Then other ones that looked more 'civilized' in origin, along with pieces of armor and weapons gleaming in the shadowy light of the large fire burning in stone fireplace reflecting off their metal. Sitting or standing around the room were the various women of the Warchief, or in one case chained between two pillars looking unhappy with a bruised face. Something Mistress noted, glancing at the other large orc woman in front of Mara shrugged.

"Someone thought they were allowed order around those they not... And I told'em before that that aren't the boss around here. Thought another lesson was in order were it not Wyr? Hmmm?"

The large nude red skinned orc-human?- woman chained between the two pillars nodded tiredly and bowed her head. "Yes, sorry I forgot my place Chieftess Breyza. This one knows better now and knows she is lower than even an elf if she is told so."

Said Chieftess Breyza nodded. "Good, know your place and life'll be good Wyr, don't and it'll be short. If I say Elfy here is Second Wife after the feasting then she is da Wife ahead of a mere bedslave like you. You want be proper respected wife then you need learn yer place first."

Mara stood silently beside her sister and recognised the chained woman as the enemy warlord's sister or niece, while nearby stood the elf woman in charge of one the villages clad in a dress and holding a cane. Mistress sighed "Right, let's get her healed up then before we start painting on for the ceremony later. Mara, Kethri, unpack the gear and then disrobe. You elf, do the same so we can get to placing on the runes...cuz I don't have all night before we'll be getting started eh Breyza?"

"Yes, and all this bloody snow slowing ever..."

Mara heard behind her as Mistress and the younger Warlord's wife began to discuss the ceremony tonight. It was a relief to put down the heavy pack beside the large table and begin to careful place the inks, brushes and other items within upon its surface. Beside her, just as silently, her sister did likewise as the half-elf slave Sylfine smiled tired at them from across the room while rubbing her swollen heavily pregnant belly. Mara guessed the girl would birth soon... Possibly tonight with magic being involved. Magic was a strange and terrifying thing she'd found, with Mistress Missy having gone from slave to a Mistress due to its power.

That done she shrugged off the heavy fur smock and hat, folding them neatly before stepping out of the boots to place them beside her sisters as her Mistress guided the now unchained red-skinned woman to stand beside the table. To tower over Mara and Kethri just like Mistress and the other orc woman of course, though the half-breed was much more human looking than either as well as being thinner in build. A moment later the elf woman had joined them alongside the chieftain's other slave Marja, a former merchants daughter who Mara had found agreeable to talk too on the few chances that they had.

"All of them?" Mistress asked curiously glancing at the other women, before turning back to the young warlord's wife who nodded.

"Well save Sylfine of course, want make sure the whelp inside her comes out 'ealthy and with the blessings of the Gods as said. Wyrogha here I want whelpin' within the year course, Zah's wants the same, so that's important..." the big orc woman grabbed the elf woman by the shoulder and half-dragged/half-guided her to the front. "And Hollaywn course' same as you did with Sylfine. She's gonna be Zahgorim's obedient and loyal second wife, and serve me too course, ain't that right?"

A jerking nod came from the elf woman as the other arm fluttered about in confusion "Offf... fff... course Lady Breyza."

Mistress sighed "...probably not work with a full elf Breyza, just like I told Zah. Need big massive magic even with Sylfine and now want even more."

"Eh, worth a try. Hollie here gettin' a whole load of special privileges fer herself, and her village, so even if she doesn't start whelping the showing off her loyal servin' me and Zahgorim during the ceremony is more than worth it. That right Hollie? Same as with Wyr here."

"Yes Lady Breyza... it... it is a pleasure to serve you and my Lord."

"Fair nuff Breyza' just so you know not gonna get a miracle."

"Not at all Ogrash, not at all. And yours?"

Mistress gestured at Mara and Kethri "Well course, why they're here. Missy too, though preparing her and myself just before ceremony, so be leavin' these two here while I do that. Ghorza..." a loud exasperated sighed issued forth from her owner "...big battles coming up and she wants to swing her bloody sword you know rather than popping whelps as she put it. Course she'll probably come back with one after a particular bloody battle with her mind the way it is"

A loud snort followed "Some females! Long as it not at my idiot of a mate fine by me."

"Yeah I know, still has its uses. Now, let's get to work on..."

--

As requested a Mara chapter. Roland is back in Longsaddle and Tris is too hard to write frankly. A bit of slice of life chapter, but its setting up the next two of the ceremony itself and the annual 'job' report with the Boss Orc in certain ways. That and address a few questions raised re; births and magic. The only thing I'll note is the children are in the underkeep while this is being done, and that the likes of Missy, Lua, Tris (and Lua's slave) are separate. Karg of course is dealing with his end of the ritual prep and with Phargk as well.

[Karguk 41]

Main Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

"No, stay back there...No there...oh for you...Good! Keep that idiot over there would you!" I half-shouted at the idiot stumbling forward out of crowd, pointing at him at least got some of the other orcs around him to roughly grab him and drag him out of the way. Not my clan, and I didn't have time to be messing around with stupid drunken idiots right now as I moved away and continued my final check of inscriptions and runic wards on the walls. That and crowd control on all the day-night drinking session that was the now 'traditional' way to celebrate for most of the clan.

It was harder this year than previous ones, in large part of course because the numbers of our merry little alliance, our clan alone even, had jumped dramatically. The other big part being of course the fact of the howling blizzard occurring this year that had prevent the easy everyone in one big area outside style of ceremony. So bigger crowd, and still a need to put them somewhere for the ritual, had caused me quite a headache in the time coming up to this moment. And, being honest, in ensuring my 'solution' to the problem worked well enough to impress our new minor 'allies' and minions that had joined, or made join, the glorious new Illuskan quasi-Kingdom here in the Crags.

Still a previous life time of boring stuff like time and project management, along with many Sim-management games, had served me well by breaking the problem into its component parts and working from there. After all, the entire objective was marshaling the power of the prayers and spells, making the Gods happy with a display, and of course impressing all our new friends. Like Prince Obould for instance, or even just the minor idiot warchiefs, or their representatives, present here in the Keep. So that had at least given me a reason to have the VIPS up here in the Keep along with a big chunk of my own clan, and then have other 'prayer centres' down in the lower slopes 'town' or in the repaired Towers like my own.

Old Orc Phargk might think my overall plan was somewhat bonkers, as did most of the other shamans I got the impression at times, but it was just about marshaling the power and then sending/focusing it. Like sending electricity from a power plan along power lines, or another utility, as my studies and sessions with Doctor Ned had highlighted. While the fact the two Harpells approved of my plan, what they knew of it anyway, filled me with some mild concern...well they might be dangerous and deluded but it didn't mean that didn't know their way around magical power.

Marshaling it after all wasn't their problem, more it lay in the stupidly dangerous ways they ended up using that power. Even now as I strode through upper floor of the Keep I could feel the almost intangible tingle of magic in the air alongside the incense, and the sounds of shout and chant from below as young warriors and females paired up with the Cave Mother's blessing. Just like would be, had been, happening down below in town at the Tavern, Adventurers Guild, and any other large building we'd got down there; for the army to camp. or for unused storage purposes. Anywhere basically we plonk barrels of drink, tables for food, and of course my acolytes or other clans clerics to lead their own parts of the rituals.

I glanced over the old stone balustrade at the central area of the main floor, where my gorgeous Oggy stood banging her staff in unison with a dozen other priestesses from the other clans. All around the chanting filled my ears; the voices of hundreds echoing off the thick stone walls of the fortress as the power hummed within the massive ritual circle below. I shook my head to clear the almost heady feeling that filled it for a moment. Considering most here hadn't drunk much as yet I suspect some of the 'drunken' clan-orcs wandering around were getting affected by the magic in the air. Really should have thought of that I noted with a sigh before turning back towards one of my younger acolytes currently playing at message runner.

"Well?"

"My Shaman, Shaman Phargk states that he has finished blessing those who would serve as the One Eye's warriors to join his clan and will be ready to begin soon" Tarvic?...yes Tarvik, stated and I nodded in reply. Good, the soon we got started the better.

"Right, good, send word to the other clans shamans were ready to begin as soon as the Priestess finishing their blessings" I turned to two of battletstaves who'd been following me till now as the young orc boy dashed off to do what I instructed "Okay you two. Send word down to the town and camp that were about ready to begin...the totems will illuminate when we have. Make sure the others go out and ensure the blasted things are still standing in this weather"

"Yes Boss!" echoed out behind me as I motioned to Hreshgk and the other Red Branch Knights to follow me down the stairs. Technically they weren't really proper totems mostly as I liked to think of them as like crude electrical pylons except for magic. But...they *sorta* worked on the same principle as magic totems and since that's what my merry minions thought of the as then that's what they were being called for now. I'll admit those at them out in the cold weren't overly happy of course, but they were either there due to punishment or were getting a reward afterwards.

Anyway all they had to do was be there for a few hours and then they could get roaring drunk like everyone else. Descending to the lower level I saw that the captured armour, weapons, banners, and all the other tokens of Zah's great campaign against all the enemies of Illusk here in the Crags laid out around pillars. Upon each of them the sigils for the Gods of the Pantheon were painted, thankfully not in blood but in paint mixed with magic instead. Blood sacrifice, while powerful I would admit, was both dangerous and hard to manage comparatively in large rituals. While not exactly Marvellous Pigments in nature the paint should be more beneficial to the incantations in chalk, silver, and paint laid out on the floor below. I glanced at Hreshgk.

"Bring out the Gods-slaves for their parts, and then come back to me. Oggy looks to be finishing up this batch so once Shaman Phargk and the others arrive we're going to begin"

That done all I could do was wait as pulse of magic echoed out as yet another collective thudding of staffs echoed out alongside the ending of the chants from the new found couples, or multiple spouse groupings now united. Clans binding to other allied clans by blood, all in a manner that would hopefully firm up our alliance/horde for the coming storm and was basic for family or pack orientated creatures like us. That and even orcs understood the basics of not marrying too much within the same gene pool, and benefits of marrying from without as well.

After standing for a short while as Oggy finished up her rituals I noticed the approach of Zah, his wife and concubines, as the shamans and warchiefs entered the room along with their own. As well as daughters, sons, sisters, and other kin that were covered in the paint and sigils of those seeking blessings or were VIP weddings. I resisted sighing at the growing sight; it was like some crossed a heavy metal album cover with a renfair, and then to finish threw in pile of body paint just for good measure. This was my life now, and soon it would be scary vision time with the boss orc. The pregnant half-elf woman trailing at Zah's side and covered from head to toe in painted runes indicated more for Oggy's segment of the ritual.

'Because that's what we want; screaming births during the magic ritual. But hey what do I know' I complained to myself, because Oggy would not be happy me saying it to her as I waved Zah that she could join the other chieftains just-about-to-birth females nearby. The Boss, the One Eye, and the Dum-Dum, wanted martial glory to be placed in their honour while for the Cave Mother it was 'aren't being fruitful and success!' mixed with seeking 'blessed' births. Well that was the benefit of being the warchief, or here and now, the women of said chieftains.

"Hey Karg we startin' soon?"

"Yes, and then you can get to the drinking and feasting don't you worry" I snorted back in amusement to his hidden question in his bemused words. He grinned as I glanced at him "any problems I should know about?"

"Nah, Breyjuk's getting the last of the other, older, chieftains to come so everyone be here in a small bit. Just do yours an' Oggy's magicky..." he waved his gauntleted hands in a motion I assumed was meant to mimic spell casting...in some tiny measure I assumed "...magic-magic thing and be great show rest'em the Gods be on our side against all enemies. That and make some food and booze appear, not really midwinter till you get to the drinkin' feastin' and fuckin' you know"

"Hnnn...if you say so say Zah..." I mused then motioned to him to head over to his 'throne' amongst the other 'thrones' of the largest clans in Illusk, or 'honoured guests' such as Obould and his Shaman. That lot got the prettiest slave-girls and unmarried clan females waiting on them hand and foot for the night. In the end it was all part of the show "...now get over there, get seated and hopefully the others will follow your led now that Oggy's finished"

"There's booze there?"

I sighed and motioned again as I saw Oggy approach from one direction, and the Hreshgk with the six God-slaves from another "Yes, yes all the good stuff you like and two barrels of the village ale...now My Chief get over there, drink your ale and I'll..."

He grinned, thumping me on the shoulder before wander off "...do all the work. Just like it should be eh? Anyway once you get it all done we can get away from all that boring stuff and a barrel of two of booze into ya!"

'Well I probably need it after job report time' I mused silently as Oggy strode over to me and everything just started to click into place for the next, and final, phase of the day and nights long drawn out rituals. Side effect of the magic I found, once you started to build up momentum with bardic or divine chant based things involving large groups it drove you forward faster and faster till you finished it. She motioned me to follow, which I did as I saw the masked Gods-slaves falling into place to stand beneath the pillars of their designated 'mask' for this casting. When I got to the little area where my 'harem' waited I shook my head in mild annoyance.

"Rose I thought you were going to stay with your Grandmother as she ministered to the village fighters" I asked with a shake of my head at the red haired girl dressed in light cloth top and dress, bare arms, legs and midriff with Sparta clan warpaint upon them and paint slash across her face to match Ghorza's. She merely grinned up at me as Oggy interjected as the rest of my 'household' relaxed where they sat. Even the three children were being quiet for once.

"If she daughter then we need show other clans that and blood she spilled...and I said she could be so not be complaining Karg. Now, that old hag from the Moonblades is a bit...daft like I thought, but shouldn't be a problem. Just be clear with each step Karg as the Old Shaman wants and she should be fine, just not used to be in charge stuff like this I think"

'Well that's just great, slow the whole show down' I thought holding back a sigh. Still everything else was going well; the rituals preparations were complete, all the warchiefs and shamans including Darth Phargk were here now, and my family were all set as Ghorza got up to join me in the section of the circle set aside for the Priests of Ilneval. Or at least behind me as I joined the other five head priests of their God's at the centre as the Keep finally fell silent.

But just for a moment as the ancient orc shaman nodded at me to be begin. Taking a breath I drew my longsword, beginning the chant to marshal the power building all day within the Keep. Falling to one knee I brought the burning blade down upon the rune beneath as words of the spell came off my mouth and my 'battle meditation' began as my senses expanded like it had on the battlefield against the Uthgardt. Then behind and around me the other priests began to do the same, power flowing into the spell circles...and beyond out of the Keep to the 'totem poles' and the other ritual centres beyond. My mind began to burn as I called out the words of the chant...

--

[Karguk 42]

[The Mind you have dialled is currently engaged – please try again later]

"Well this takes me back, funny that" I mused glancing around the hotel lobby as I walked in from the white seething fog outside. Though of course outside was a rather meaningless term when it was applied to being in a bizarre admixture of one's mind, soul, and the astral plane thanks to vast outpouring of magic from ritual work. I remembered visiting this place a few times before it closed, up that blood hill which was a nightmare to try going back after a few drinks.

I suspect if I 'explored' outside the area would probably resembled an amalgam to what the seaside looked like over the years I'd visited it. Evidently the Boss Orc wanted a 'pleasant meeting area' or something similar and my mind had happily formed one from weekends away with college friends from a long time ago.

Perhaps it was having guests time in Shaman's mind once again; bleedin joy if that was the case. Hidden neutral ground for divine drinking session was not the preferred setting for one's mortal mind after all. Still it was also a little jarring after the moments before in stronghold with noise of chanting, magic and all the other sensations of a mass religious ritual to go to quiet calm of seaside hotel lobby.

That being said the logical course of action was to head to imaginary bar and have myself an imaginary drink to deal with the whole imaginary but real scary divinity about to drop in for visitation. It was still hard not treat the whole thing as real of course; while there were no 'guests' beyond myself the few 'staff' around were oddly real for figments of imagination and memory.

Which was odd as I only hazily remembered such things as that, and I suspect they themselves were just random snippets of various staff, from various pubs and hotels, that my mind threw together to fill in the blanks. Still, regardless, the pint of Guinness from the barman tasted real, as did the two barmaids wandering around cleaning tables appear so. Even the salted peanuts did as I crunched and swallowed.

I sighed sadly; I missed salted peanuts and the other little unhealthy, yet tasty, creations of an industrialised society. Was gonna have to get to work on something like that through magic means some day really. The...pressure?...on my mind was the sign that it was time for my mental wandering down memory lane to come to an end. Rising from the colourful, but faded, couch I went to one knee moments after standing.

Head down and first to the ground I felt and heard the Boss Orc's arrival as he strode into the room and the ominous pressure increased somewhat. Hard to judge of course in make believe land, but the presence was as terrifying and overwhelming as always...even if my mind worked and kept everything calm. Mostly I expect because a panicking minion was a rather useless minion for purposes such as those the Boss wanted.

"My Lord, how may I serve?"

"Rise, Sit, there are things to be done servant"

"Yes My Lord, as you command" I answered obediently pushing back up and sitting back down at the table as ordered. Uncaring that two armour clad orcs were sitting in the hotel the younger bar maid strode over to us, drinks materialising between my glance and her arrival at the table. Best to ignore such minor inconsistencies in the Matrix I found or my mind would just try to 'fix' it otherwise to being more believable anyway.

"My servant, the Time of Change grows ever closer and there are task you must complete so that you and your horde may survive to serve me during it" the Boss stated without much preamble as always. Which was absolutely fine being even without the whole divine being could squish me like a bug issue; I liked clear and concise orders, with to-do-lists as well preferably.

Or at least clear goals that one could work towards, because I could plan towards those. Well, I thought so anyway. Whatever the case the Boss paused a moment to drink from his own pint, which was a thick metal flagon evidently rather than those of my memories made of glass, before motioning at the table and causing a...my old gaming laptop to appear?

My confused look, or thought, was apparent to the Boss Orc who merely looked around disdainfully "How your mortal mind comprehends the information I supply is largely left to your own understanding my servant. Simply placing it there would do little good, because it is information wild and untamed. Your trying to swallow a sea of divinely understood knowledge in one gulp is no use to me, so all is there on the winds of change that have swept these lands and render many of your former prophecies usefulness ended. At least for the lands that surround your own. You wish for knowledge, it is here; make use of it or not. But for now there are some certain matters to make clear to you in the coming seasons..."

I stayed obediently quiet as he downed the flagon and then motioned for another before continuing "One: as you know the False Warlord, follower of Surtr, has gained the support of one Grummsh's little pawns. He will bring a great horde against you as you know. There are only two paths leading from this before the year is ended; he will perish or you and your little kingdom will perish as there no choices left for the False Warlord..."

The chuckle was amused but darkly nerve-wracking I found.

"...he MUST attack, and he must slay your kingdom before his own turn against for failing. But do try and keep Obould of Many Arrows alive, I have plans for that one if he lives...but if he is too die ensure that it is known it was at the hands of those fools in the Spine. While his sire fears the warrior that trained, and he should, such a thing would set my foes against each other if I am to lose a potential tool. Though if he should ever threaten this kingdom you build in my name you are to dispose of him with my blessing"

Well...okay then. Try keep him alive and on our side then firstly, and if not make sure the Furry Fucker takes the blame "Yes, of course my Lord, as you command"

"Yes, but others will come to you soon. How you make use of them, or deal with their nature, is yours to decide my servant. Prospective allies, temporary or not, they may be and they must be tested as they will test you my servant. But one group you have queried and you are allowed to let pass as desired. The Drow and Dwarf succeeding in their quest will weaken foes and draw the gaze of that wretched spider Lloth upon them at a most opportune time indeed. For your own purposes the rise of such a new dwarf stronghold will only but serve to weaken Mirabar as their great grip upon mithral is broken"

That...was true, and pretty close to my own opinion on the matter. And right now Mirabar was a problem; even if our currently started negotiating attempt succeeded it would become a problem again once the Furry Fucker got removed from the equation. Letting Drizzt, walking death machines that he and his mate Bruenor were, pass through our lands unharmed was just the easiest option in my opinion. Then they could go off on their merry way, slay that dragon, kill some drow and deep dwarves, and mostly importantly of all - be someone else's gods-damned problem.

"Yes, indeed my servant; Now you study your gifted knowledge...or not...as the case maybe. Once you are complete you will greet those that will come here, and then escort them into me. Do not be concerned, time does not pass here as in the physical world, and it shall only pass when you have decided it has my servant. Nor can you reveal anything that I do not permit or have it taken by force. So you answer freely any questions that are asked as you will simply not be able to answer them otherwise"

"Ehhh...okay Boss...I mean Yes, My Lord" I managed to reply, then saluting him head bowed as he strode off into another area of the...bar? mind? astral plan?...as I looked around a bit in confusion, before turning on the machine before me. Sigh. Another item I missed as 'KARGUK MIND LINK 1.01! BOOT SEQUENCE INITATED! LOADING...LOADING...LOADING...' appeared on the screen of the imaginary machine. Gods-dammit! Even my bloody subconscious had a misbegotten loading screen...

'Aaannnddd...evidently my subconscious translates the information into a strategy game forma. Sigh. Go figure' I mused as the screen changed to something like that of Total War game, or maybe some weird fusion of Crusader Kings and Ultimate General as it showed a map of the world. Information on things that's what I wanted...and that's what I got. Starting to scroll through it I grasped what the Boss Orc had meant – this was basically a 'current' situation map of the world. Well the Spine, Savage Frontier and North in general for mattered for me more-so...but it was all there.

'Oh...there are even mission goals and an 'advisor' setting...hmmm...click that. Thank you subconscious, you're being unusually helpful for once' I noted as there was so much bloody information here. Confirming alot of things I already knew, but also showing me things were changing pretty drastically as well from the Holy Books as I noted the mass concentration of Uthgardt tribes to the east of Griffin's Nest. Aiming for Uthgradt according to 'Intelligence Reports'...hmmm...was that the Boss Orc's actual view or just cataloguing of rumours. Hell it even had that 'captured enemy reports' note style of Ultimate General Civil War. Wait can I click on the portraits?

Ohhhhhhh...yes I can. Fuck even if it's only the Boss's personal views of these people...and judging by these traits I'd guess so...that's plenty of useful information assuming I can remember it all. Yes, yes, CKII...really was a nice way for the mind to break down information without having too much thrown at me all at once. And enemy Uthgardt girl is...ohhhhh right, yeah...Skilled Commander, Zealous, Brave, Crusader...duh of course...Diligent, Proud...

Wait look up Darth Phargk...no wait...myself and the Host Tower...no army strength and make up off..

I blinked and sat back into the chair. Okay that was enough, too much information as glanced at number of empty glasses now sitting in front of me and slightly bleary feeling in my not-actually-here eyes. Didn't feel drunk, but then again imagination land and I didn't want to be so considering the importance of the whole 'try not piss off Boss and get kill' nature of these session. That and the fact when I 'woke up' I'd have to help redirect all that gathered power back into a mass Heroes Feast and general empowerment of my own minions even without any input from the Gods. Best to get back to...

"Ah hello there young man! It seems I was invited. Are we having a festival to warm up the cold of winter? Those are the best. And they annoy Ice Queen which is always fun to do as well!" a cheerful voice greeted as a tall and rather...well endowed...woman strolled into the bar in a dress of greens, browns, and a few flecks of shimmering gold like sunshine on a field. Ugh my head...I blinked and shook it ever so slightly to clear the pressure...well best be polite...

"Uhhhh...hello, the...errr Boss is, well, inside" Way to go Karguk, way to go. Heart of diplomacy there...

She smiled cheerfully as the barmaid arrived over with a rather large tankard of what smelled like incredibly strong cider "Oh don't worry I'm just waiting for someone else to arrive first. So we'll have a quick chat. I like chatting to handsome young males, even when their orcs. Makes me feel young again...oh wait! I should fit in! Silly me! See much more comfortable!"

I blinked...and then she was a beautiful orcish female without even a motion, albeit still in the same dress that smell of flowers and earth I noted as plopped unto the chair in a rather unladylike manner "Now we can have a little chat while my friend remembers that clothing, sometimes, is not an optional extra at meetings and..."

--

[Zahgorim 23]

Main Keep, Stronghold of Sparta

It was always awe-inspiring, terrifying too...but even more awesome as well...to feel the power of the Gods themselves during the cold harsh winters as he watched and felt the very air start to vibrate somehow. His own voice joined with the hundreds of others here within the great hall of the Keep as the area was illuminated by strange lights and false flames as Karg's sword, and those of his warriors, touched off the scribbling on the ground and set it alight somehow.

Magic was weird like that he'd found as the words roared out his own mouth along with the others...even though he'd barely remembered them mere moments ago. Beside him his glorious first wife Breyza's thundered out along with the red-skinned form of the kneeling concubine Wyrmogha whose eyes had glazed over even as she chanted. Out amidst the other fat belly swollen females, in the section dedicated to the Cave Mother, his little pet Sylfine moaned loudly. Moaned loudly along with the others there, their bodies illuminated in a crimson light from above yet wasn't there according to his eyes.

"Myyy Lo..oorddd" his little elf Hollaywn whimpered as she suddenly grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his waist in apparent terror, though Zahgorim hardly noticed as he patted her head idly and his other concubine Marya grovelled behind them with his whelps around her, having felt the power of the God's in prior ceremonies. His own voice continued in unison with the rest of the great gathering of clan leaders, chiefs and captains, shamans and acolytes, as the sound of claws tearing at stone and distant roaring almost overpowered those voices.

Before him, in the great ritual circle, he saw the tattooed bodies of the six Gods-slaves begin to hover into the air like puppets on strings, naked flesh pulsing in light and dark as the tattoos glowed and writhed. Masked faces flung back along with arms to the sides, a roar of mingled voices echoing out from behind them with words unintelligible to his ears. Zahgorim's blood boiled, singing of the terror and glory of the Gods, as the great piles of captured arms and weapons laid out for the honour of the Gods erupted into spectral flames, as did those of the pregnant females beneath the Cave Mother's watch. The roared out over them all...

...the world stretched out below him as great hordes clashed and drenched the land red as the banners of the Gods favoured smashed into the heathens, the traitors, and the weak...

...thousands of warriors surged forward, arrows flew above to blot out the sun as disciplined ranks drove back the weak and the strong amidst the foe's might host...

...like an eagle he soared high in the sky, east and north, to where foul abominations clad in rotted rags gazed out hatefully from towers...

...females, a great coffle of females of many races passed by him clad in gauzy finery, or a few in shining armour or robes of power. Some grovelled at his feet as he choose them, some fought in glorious combat till he had proved his strength...

...warriors clashed with humans and elves, broken and bent as their defeat survivors who bowed to a great host as the towers crumbled and the fleshless ones burned beneath the Gods glorious wrath. The Harp banner was raised and...

...like two reflections side by side. His enemies slain, but a broken land of ashes and dirt over which he ruled, cold and starving and alone despite sitting upon a throne of bones and iron. Wounds upon his flesh from slaying those around him as in the distance the wolves howled for his death...

...another of himself, clad in glorious armour of a war-chief , a great host bowing at his feet as he rested on his throne within a great city. Great industries churned out weapons, and golden jewellery as his allies broke all before them in might host. Like a tide they swept over the lands...

Zahgorim shook his head as the sensation of overwhelming power faded and the welcoming gloom of the Keep return once again like a collective sigh being emitted by all present. He himself, like all the others present, was on his knees with his elf Hollaywn still clinging to him somewhat wild-eyed. Around him the tables were now overflowing with food that had not been there before, and great barrels of what could only be alcohol had appeared dotted across the hall to join those already been laid out there.

"Behold the Gifts of the Gods! We have proved our worth in their eyes and have been rewarded!" Karg's voice echoed out in unison with Oggy's and dozens of other clerics "Illusk has their favour and it shall conquer!"

"CONQUER! GLORY TO THE GODS!" roared back from the great hall as Zahgorim like all the others present pushed themselves back to stand and ready to revel in the great feast laid out before them. Heads were clearing, bodies moving once again as the power of the magic faded but still remain. Somehow he felt stronger, healthier and more clear-headed perhaps with even the small headache he had all morning from yesterday's drinking now gone.

"Master? Mistress?" his slave Sylfine said suddenly as she staggered over to them, face stunned or befuddled, and clad only in her collar held a whelp to her breast. His whelp his brain reminded him as Breyza strode forward, inspected Sylfine a moment before almost shoving the half-elf concubine till she stood before Zahgorim as the whelp murmured and cried out.

"My Mate, the Gods gift you a strong future warrior! Rejoice!" Breyza announced patting the half-elf on the shoulder, then motioned her to hold out the whelp to Zahgorim. Something that his concubine did obediently, making clear the faintly pulsing fertility runes upon her belly and breasts, glimmering in the Keep's familiar and warm gloom. Still he wasn't looking at that as he took the squalling whelp into his hands and studying it.

"Yup, he's a little future warrior he is...hmmm...Zahlfinn, let's call you Zahlfinn my little whelp..." because that was his name plus the female who birthed it. Zahgorim nodded to himself happy at the great wisdom he'd shown in the name "...one day you'll be a mighty warrior like me, or shaman like Karg. Even if ye are a little scrawny! Heh! Back to yer Ma then and time for the feast to celebrate your birthing!"

Breyza snorted as she took Zahlfinn and handed the whelp back to Syfline who hugged and cooed at the little green-grey bundle that contrasted with her pale white flesh "Eager to feast as always my mate, hmph. Marya, give me some of your coverings and let us wrap up our little warrior here before he gets cold"

"Mama! Mama!" his little Azya demanded attention from behind him as his human slave-concubine came forward and handing some furs over to Breyza. He snorted in amusement, turning around and hefting up the little struggling whelp with both his hands and grinning at her as she bet on his hands "No! Mama! No! Want!"

"Heh, just like I was accordin to you Ma?" he raised voice to where his old mother sat a little bit away clustered with all the old hags of the clan; Karg's grumpy old birth female, Cardac's two bitter and snappy mates, the sisters Jushka and Ushka, and a half dozen others returning from helping Oggy and the outsider priestess at their role. Ma, as ever, grumbled something under her breath before waving her hand at him as she'd so often done.

"Whinin' and pissin' everywhere ye mean like the rest of em? Least you survived and turned out be proper warrior and chief Zah. No get to yer drinkin' with warriors and yer shaman, and punchin' idjits too, and leave yer Ma to her drinkin' with her friends now like a good whelp"

"Heh, don't worry Ma" he replied with a nervous chuckle. Well there went the original plan of handing the whelps over to his, Karg's and Oggy's two Ma's while he got to have a great time after boozing it up praising the Cave Mother in his own merry way. Her's was the funnest and bestest of the religious obligations in his not-humble opinion!

He motioned at his household "Lets got visit Karg and Oggy! Let the whelps all play together and we can do so plannin' for the coming spring"

"Plannin he says...snrt..come on then, Hollie leg go of Zahgorim's leg and get up. Wyr behave the shackles stay off..." Breyza commanded his household for him while took up a haunch gift to them and bit a chuck off. Something that tasted absolutely wonderful he noted as he motioned for his bodyguard to move over to where Karg had returned to his females and guards. And the visiting son of the northern warlord of Broken Arrows too it seemed as his small group of shaman and most trusted warrior approached as well with two female slaves following behind with food and drink. So that meant his 'fob whelps off on Karg's females' plan had another glorious part to it! Truly a great plan it was!

"Oh stop looking so nervous Hollie!" he told his now second wife and helping his little elf stand straighter and show off the expensive clothing and jewellery on her body. Few Orc Warlords could publically tame an elf, and druid at that, and between that and all the fancy looted ancient elven clothing he'd looted from that zombie elf fortress she looked like an elfy princess in his opinion. Between her, Sylfine, and Karg's dark drow elf and half-elf it would be quite the show of strength to all those minor clan chieftains now staggering around in awe of the God's blessings and the ritual itself.

"Sorry Milord...I mean My Lord Husband" she answered after taking a deep breath and straightening herself up, looking somewhat relieved they were moving over to see Karg's females. Well beyond the Drow, and the Drow's Drow slave, of course but that was because Drow's were scary elves and his Hollaywn really wasn't that scary. Supririsingly good in bed, and could drink a surprising amount, but not a scary elf usually...even if Breyza seemed to have made Wyrmogha scared of her somehow. That was females for you he figured as he waved at Karg...

--

When: Winter, Start of 1356 Dale Reckoning

Where: My Tower, Stronghold of Sparta

Information is powerful tool for leveraging your position in the strategic sense. Still it is not power of itself, and only comes to be such a device for leveraging when used in a beneficial manner. Now that the ceremony, and feasting, and resulting after-effects, are completed I've much to think on now that the winter is supposedly drawing to a close. Of course I say supposedly drawing to a close because we got yet another blizzard rolling in on us once again, even if now as bad as the previous ones. It's like living in one permanent snowstorm this year honestly.

But, Auril's Winter Wonderland aside, I've got alot of information thanks to the Boss and marching orders to go along with it. The thing is making use of that information in an effective manner is the question of the day, well the year in actually. As they the clock is ticking; the Time of Troubles draws ever nearer and events are in motion now. Not that they weren't in motion till now in area according to Total War: Faerun the North edition that I got to play through in my mind thanks to magic ceremony stuff. Fun times, that and various divines using my mind as a conference while giving cryptic comments/prophesy. Yay!

Still knowing stuff is what I wanted and knowing stuff is what I got, so not going to complain too much on the matter. And it's a rather interesting strategic situation that our new 'kingdom' finds itself in. Though Illusk is more a crude confederacy, or maybe like the early Holy Roman Empire of my past life than a true kingdom or organised state. Though Darth Phargk is the closest we to a King in actuality, with a 'group of four' clans including ourselves holding him as the by and large most agreeable 'Horde Leader' candidate.

I will say after seeing his 'character profile' I have proven right in my reasons for thinking him a scary, scary, old orc with those various traits.Despite that, or maybe because of it, I can feel somewhat better in the fact we'll need all the scary powerful bastards like that in the coming days considering what we're up against. Though in odd ways numerically we hold some advantages; in many ways the two human city states north of us are rather surprisingly weak in terms of actually soldiery.

Mirabar has just about two thousand fighters in the Axe, and the Luskan Guard is maybe three thousand strong and the 'armies' currently being field are made up heavily of 'adventurers' and mercenary Free Companies. For comparison, thanks to recruitment, aging up, and absorption of minor bands Sparta alone could field just over thousand fighters; Blood Axes, and the Moonblades, more than that even if they're not as good as my own clan's fighters in my opinion. When you factor in the full extent of the 'Illusk' area of rule we have a significant numerical advantage.

Sadly that takes little account of the presence of powerful mages, clerics, and the advantages of fortifications that have allowed the northern city-states to crush orcish hordes far in excess of what we have. Or is going to be coming against us come the summer I expect under the banners of that Furry Fucker Wyrmog. Because the numbers are still going to be on his side looks like there, and those Fire Giant units will make things problematic too I expect. That and while our ritual, with visitations, mass healings, and prophetic visions to all, has solidified things up greatly it does not a totally loyal and disciplined war-machine make I'm afraid. Or even a well equipped and trained one sadly.

Our forces are a mixed bag when looked at from 'above' let's say. My clan has excellent (by orc standards) heavy infantry and actual squad level mage support, the Moonblades and Red Axes have adopted a similar approach and are decently armed and disciplined, while Phargk's clan have him, Mirrinock the Assassin, and the best light infantry I've seen. Problem is when you step beyond that in terms of orcs the rest of our 'army' is much more traditional orcish horde in weapons, training and organisation. Yes we've beaten some organisation into them, but their quality isn't much more that what the likes of Wyrmog is being gifted by his new friend.

This feeds into the next point - the Uthgardt to our east. Or more accurately the differing groups of Uthgardt to our eastward flank; crazy Lathandar worshipping lady-knight nearest, and then the 'allied' host building near Griffon's Nest and east towards the Lurkwood. Though honestly I think that group is more aiming for Mirabar than fighting us for the Crags. But no way to rely on that, and if it is building I expect we'll have to fight them eventually thanks to the love and sunshine between Orcs and Uthgardt tribes. Crazy Knight Lady is the immediate problem though.

Mostly because I'm reasonably confident we could take her, her clan, and her various religious-mercenary nutter allies. I think so at least between major numerical superiority and general magical superiority; as best I can tell she's fudging numbers by arming the women and youngest boys, some girls even. And since the Uthgardt are as bad or worse than us lot in that issue I think Sky Pony are on their last legs. Sadly I don't think she'll get that from what I've been told, and what the Boss has shown; and quite frankly crushing them will cost us. Possibly enough in the way of blood spill to cause us to lose to Wyrmog – or for them to take us after we fight Wyrmog if left alone.

As such neutralising this threat, at least temporarily, is something I've already embarked upon. By that I mean we've opened indirect negotiations with Mirabar through the Harpells like I'd discussed and planned even before the ceremony. It's rather convoluted but Ardanac Harpell has made contact with the Council of Sparkling Stone. Yes that is the name of their council; don't blame this here orc for it. Long story made short we've passed on information of what's coming from the North (and I will for what's coming from the East later) in the coming months. Oh and that we're open to being paid to help them, and their mercenary barbarians, stop said threat, etc, etc, etc.

Downplay our threat somewhat, point at that Furry loving bastard getting major support from the King of the Spine, and pretend we weren't in anyway allied with him up till recently and aiming to attack them in alliance with him. Till he betrayed us of course, but yeah, don't mention the war as the man said. Though we will mention we did a fine job trashing the Sky Pony in recent times. Really we, well I, want them to hold the faux-Uthgardter Lathandar loonies off our back till we can defeat Wyrmog and strengthen our position. Yes I'd love to settle the situation peacefully, to our advantage of course with them subservient to us, but that I very much doubt that would ever occur.

It's more complicated than what I'm going to say, but boiling it down we're at the stage of them either going to get that crazy lady to attack us straight away, or have meeting to discuss not clashing. While I'd prefer not to clash the case for fighting early in the year with time to rebuild is better than striking us in the flanks while we move to fight our northern foes. Oh, and avoid any fallout from Drizzt do'bloody Urden traipsing through the Crag's in the coming months of course.

Or me getting assassinated in these planned face to face talks come the spring via Mirabaran mages, or Lathandarite Crusaders, or a Luskan plot...or my own lot of so-called allies – because orcs. On the bright side of that I would say the ranks of my Red Branch Knights have expanded, well including those in training, up to eleven thanks to the ritual. Both in the run up to it and the magic unleashed during it; they also passed the Not Evil, Not Chaotic test with flying colours along with some degree of intelligence and common sense. Joy to the world my friends, joy to the world.

Our ranks have swelled despite the attrition caused by training and purging the dangerous stupid, but ambitious, morons from the ranks. Of course there were a number of deaths, as bloody usual, over the course of the feast thanks to the usual females killing each other after a fight for position, or younger males clashing over said females between clans. It is marriage season and sometimes people object to those unions, or get so drunk they kill themselves via alcohol poisoning. Had one or two of those; but they were amongst the terminally stupid newbies in our ranks so I'm not exactly going to weep for them. More of a 'problem solved' for making my life easier.

Beyond all that madness it was a rather enjoyable Midwinter. I drank, I feasted, I had fun, though I expect children are a likely outcome of some that of course thanks to Oggy and her divine patron. Drunken socialising is also a vital trait for a shaman wishing to stay in charge for an extended period of time. Who could have guessed the carousing option from Crusader Kings 2 is actually a vital orcish rulership method along with shouting really loud (had to a few times at the feast), punching really hard (did that alot too) and threatening people with fiery swords. Fun times, fun times indeed.

Now must return to work. Magical tele-conference time!

Yay! (Not)

Slan go foill a chairde

--

[Krowluc 16]

North-Western Crags

Breath steaming on the air Krowluc led his steed, and his company of riders following behind them, as the chill grip of winter slowly gave way to the faintest signs of spring. Still the ground was cold, hard, and yet again faintly dusted with a shower of snow, so he counted his blessings as he brought the company to a stop for a quick rest.

And enjoy the few brief flowerings of greenery of course as he chewed on the frosted piece of kale after securing his mount Dora to a tree branch. He glanced around; it'd probably been a farm, or impromptu foraging area setup decades ago maybe, around the small stream bubbling along nearby. Whatever the case it had been a nice break from the rations they'd brought for this ranging from the Spartan cavalry.

Crazy Shaman wanted a scouting based on all the visions most everyone seemed to have during the Midwinter feasting so out they went into the still rather poor weather here in the Crags. He hummed in thought rolling his neck a little after removing his helmet. Despite all that there had been little in the way of complaints, relief even being the dominant feeling, at getting out in the wilds again rather than being stuck inside under snow.

Drinking and feasting helped but everyone, himself included, had been starting to get stir-crazy with even a few tumbles in the hay with the that stableboy getting boring after a bit. That and it was damn near time to show the new recruits the ropes before they got called into true battle that seemed to be coming in the coming months against the half-giant Warlord currently hold up in the Spine.

"So what we got ahead of us?" he queried as half-elven form of Bareyaras approached with two of his scouts on either side. His subordinate shrugged.

"More of the same Capt'n, which by the same I mean alot of nuthin. Looks like all the clans still on the enemy warlord's side all packed up and moved north afore the winter snows. Good bit too it looks like, signs of fightin' here and there' up ahead. But nuthin recent, a few bodies here and there that'd had animal at'em or got froze ore the winter an' now stinkin up the shit..." the half-elf motioned off to the north-west "...also Cap'n I'm pretty sure that little forted up trade post we wuz talkin' about is either abandoned, or got attacked at some point"

Krowluc scratched at his chin in thought "Any signs of folk? And is the place still standin' or what condition is it in? Recent-ish or a while?"

"Before the snows definitely, probably before the harvests from the look of the plots and gardens around the place. Didn't get in too close...just around the edges...since were only the three of us, but most of it is still standing even if I'd guess someone burned a chunk of it. With magic or proper siege weapons if I hadda guess as gate were blown in and splintered best can' tell"

"Any of the others see any signs of trouble ahead?" the trade post-farm being destroyed was unfortunate really; they'd be pretty shifty bastards but they'd trade with most anyone and often had decent enough gear. With them gone there went the idea of picking up some extra mounts along with getting rumours of what was happening around the River Mirar area. Like had the Warlord Wyrmog's scouts, or bands of raiders playing scouts, started moving south as yet?

"Nah, everyone back alive and well and ain't a whole to report. Cold still got a lot of the worst beastie's still snoozin' and not a sign of anyone, human, orc, elf or dwarf, moving near to us. Guessin' you want to rest in that old place ahead of us?"

Krowluc nodded, glancing around and waving for Thieving Kyras to come over for their little discussion as leader of the remaining of his three 'wings' of the Company. Around him everyone was resting their mounts, and themselves, beyond those designated to guard duty and standing watch for any sudden threat "Yeah, we've been moving pretty hard and quick past few days and even its only half standing it'd be a decent place to fort up for a little bit before moving on again"

This was still hostile territory after all, and while his cavalry company had expanded to a decent number that meant squat if they got caught out in an exposed camp. What's worse they'd have to move further north now to try scout out how bad the situation was on the river plains between Luskan and Mirabar instead of bribing some bandit-smugglers playing at being farmers. Though their absence, destruction most like, did indicate what Krowluc's Bosses thought was probably true; the region had been thrown into chaos by the war and everyone was doing the usual steal-burn-murder idiocy that erupted when wars around here. Kyras was rubbing tiredly at her head as she strolled over to them.

"So what's the word eh Boss?"

Krowluc nodded towards Bareyaras "He says the lot we were thinkin' droppin in on got burnt out, probably last summer or autumn, so bad news on that front. I'm thinkin' a sweep and clear of the place , fort up a day or two as we scout out the area..." he sighed "...and we can tell if it were magic that burned out those gates as well. If had to guess I'd say a Free Company or Adventuring Band going after some low hanging fruit, at least if there weren't some of our enemy clans moving north and lookin' for a bit of loot on the trip. Or monsters, undead, whatever riled up all that's been going on"

All indications, between the bodies found and gear on them, as they descended unto the plains indicated an influx of idiot-turned-adventurer and adventurer-turned-bandit into the wilds along with a few probably desperate families fleeing them. Or at least till the snows came and shut basically everything down as usual; and froze most of the poor bastards fleeing the chaos...if they didn't starve first that was. This had been a pretty severe winter and while his band had managed full bellies and warm hovels...well those who hadn't either would struggle in the wilds. Badly.

"Aye Boss, things might have settled down near the valley and all them' that bowed to our bosses lot but looks to me its shifted alot of troublesome types out of their normal hunting grounds. That an' I'd say the Luskanites are payin' fellas to raid up the Mirar, a few too many of the bodies and tracks we've found are for city-folk or shippies trying to play at being a ranger" Kyras mused, with Bareyaras nodding in agreement to the half-orc's opinion.

"Could be, could even be them sending parties over this direction to try get some measure of revenge on our lot for some of the stuff that's happened. Most folk just see orcs as all the same, and with all the squeezing the lot round here were gettin' from us last year upping stakes to join their warlord would be a very clan thing to do in response"

"Yeah prob' true Cap'n, that means we're going to fight little but burnt fields, hovels, and angry fellows with weapons ahead ain't it?"

Krowluc nodded back to his scout horse section leader "Aye, nothing much different than what we expected really is it? I want to scout forward and get a clearer image but we're not here to fight unless we hit a much clearly weaker enemy. So once we know a bit more its back to the stronghold for whatever they have planned fer us. But for now eat up, and we move in short; Bareyaras your in the lead, Kyras your the rear and I'll take the centre column once we head out unto that open ground ahead. I don't want any messin' about, so eyes open and watch for ambush"

Something which possibly meant heading off to meet some lunatic Uthgardters who'd been taken over by some crazy Lathanderites hired by Mirabar to talk not killing each other. Or something to that effect as best Krowluc could tell from the brief discussion with the Shaman Krazy Karguk, and the rumours floating about the town before the other clans bands dispersed back to their own clans.

Course Krazy Karguk had also ordered him and others to avoid attacking a group made up of 'a Drow, a Dwarf, an Uthgardt savage and a halfling' and to 'politely' escort them to the stronghold if they did. Then had gone on about another party with three humans and a flesh golem that everyone was to be wary off and do not harm the crazy red-head with them.

Crazy in Krowluc's view, but they paid his wages and that meant they got to set the plans and orders for him and his cavalry company. So far it had worked out pretty damned well, and if they did come out on top then Krowluc would have a nice hamlet or tower somewhere to rule over in the years to come. Land and serfs, or slaves if need be, to raise horses upon like the orc was proposing...

"Sounds good to me Boss / Right Captain" echoed back from the two as he sent them back to their groups for a few minutes of rest. Patting his mount Dora he assured her that there'd be food waiting at their destination as he pulled the water-bag off the saddle and took a quick drink before getting a drop for his mount. A slow walk out of the forested area, and then they could mount up for the ride to their destination and they'd be there before high-sun. Hopefully, there wouldn't be anything there they'd have to drive out, or in worst case retreat from if it was too powerful. Always hard to tell when things went to hell in these lands he'd found since he'd first taken to the field. Chaos brought all the nasty things to the surface he found.

"Right you lot! Break times over! Lead your mounts and watch yer step!" he shouted out after a few minutes as he undid the reins from the tree and began to tug on them. Everyone was moving smoothly enough into position he noted with a professional eye; a bit sluggish perhaps but those on the flanks moved into position while the others formed into column around his position.

That heavy cavalry those Lathanderites had would still tear'em apart in an open clash, probably, but he had managed to an almost a third into something almost resembling proper horse archers so that helped somewhat. Well that and the fact of having some spell-casters amongst the ranks to make up for Nimmel lurking around playing teacher back in Sparta...anyway all those pikes and weird noisy archer-boxes they'd built were to deal with that cavalry not his boys and girls if could be avoided...

--

When: Early Spring of the Year 1356 Dale Reckoning

Where: Shaman's Tower, Stronghold of Sparta

Events are in motion as they say; at least within the valley as it is whirl of movement once again now that the snows have cleared and spring has come. One of the more important details to note is that 'negotiations' with Mirabar, through magical Harpell means, have both started and finished to some degree. When I say finished it is in the sense that they're thinking everything through despite being willing to 'supply goods in exchange for services' with our merry band of allied clans.

In other words they're rather quite happy to bribe us to focus on the Furry Fucker and his friends so that the dirty savages kill the other dirty savages without them having to do a whole lot beyond part with coin. The main thing to be discussed is ensure us and the Sky Pony don't fall into murdering each other with sharp pointy things – at least before we (in the eyes of Mirabar) get to hopefully fighting Wyrmog & Co. to mutual extinction. What could also be called the standard pay your barbarian enemies to kill each other approach to strategy of weaker civilized states.

Up there with 'send murder-hobos at the problem till it dies' for preferred tactics of the human city-states in the North and Savage Frontier I expect. Thankfully Holy Visions (as the clans are calling them) at Midwinter Feasting time have given a bit of help there so I'm pretty sure there will be other things than us in the future to keep that city-state distracted in the near future. Still I'm not exactly trust everything to chance and visions so I've sent out scouting parties; a more far ranging one under Captain Krowluc up towards the river Mirar. I want to know how that war is going based on what I've been shown.

This is, basically, that everything's gone to shite and there are bandits, well-meaning murder-hobos, adventuring bands that are basically paid to be bandits, and various monsters roving around after being attracted by the chaos as they always are. Which could be both good and bad, in relation to when the Furry Fuckers finally decides to come south with all his buddies anyway. Bad in that chaos means little warning thanks to all the loonies running around, but Good in the terrible sense that a land in chaos won't have the same bounty for an army his size to forage over as they march.

It's something I need to know by sending out scouts because with spring here our 'mighty' army has to disband for a time so it can return home and plant the crops in most cases. My own clan's warriors are still concentrated of course, beyond those we've dispatched as scouts, or to rotate into the forts/watchtowers/garrisons here in the valley, so that's something I guess. But the other clan chieftains and their entourages have left for their own clans to gather up the hosts come the end of spring. Well, baring the Furry Fucker comes earlier than expected at least.

The plan is to rally our forces come end of spring, camp, and hammer out some measure of order amongst the ranks, before we move to confront him sometime during the summer sometime. My strategy as such for the moment is to rotate the various small garrisons alongside the patrols as we do a full up and down march through of the valley; fixing damage, blessing crops, etc, etc, in the next month or two. So the vassals have time to actually dig their fields and plant their crops before we arrive. In essence for a show of strength before start stripping the vassals manpower for the army once again. Improving fortifications is also a thing that needs to be done in the event of raids while we're away in force.

Yes-yes, not cowering behind walls but building nice watchtowers and places for the females – and its vassals too so their exempt even if our garrison is inside. I've sent Ghorza back to Zybelin's Drift along with the returning villagers for their and the female orcish auxilia they served with. Same with Zahgorim's Conquest; I'm aiming to keep the formations at some level of training even during planting season. Now the other thing to deal with is the influx of the newcomers thanks to Zah's other great adventure, so their being split between both villages based on their own choices.

This means building them homes and expanding both settlements when the army arrives. It's one thing we are definitely getting rather good at doing after all – building things, from crude huts all the way through to the more martial battlefield fortifications. About the only other little bit of information in relation to the villages is that the poor dear being burned at the stake notation. I can't really stop that, but I do have some measure of influencing events. Physically because my little Rose agrees making the woman, Freyna, suffer would be wrong and that some herbs or a potion could deal with knocking her out.

On the spiritual side, well, she'll still be punished but no Wall of the Faithless or fires of the hells as there's been an agreement of sorts made during the direct sort. Reincarnation, a second chance as an orc basically as the woman will swear her soul to that. To the Grain Mother the sinner is still punished, to the Cave Mother the reborn girl will succeed her fail on her own merits and could care less. Best I can do really without stepping over the line that I don't want to cross. I've managed a measure of trust from the vassals in the clan's name by leaving them be and I can't afford to break that, especially on the verge of a major war.

Oh, I did forget to mention the fact of some of the villagers, and a few of my clan-orcs, are planning on establishing small fortified farms/steadings nearby but not in the stronghold/villages. I've no major issue with this, nor does Old Breyjuk or Zah, but we are going to control it a little bit by where they place them; or to more accurate, where we place them. Essentially we're giving certain clan-orcs, older and veteran ones, something that could be called a knighthood of sorts. Or at least the small landing holding part of it where they swear loyalty directly to the clan – Zah (and Old Beyjuk) likes that of course as always. The humans its less clear, but if they swear and pay their tithes than all is hunky-dory in my view.

Anyway must go for now, work to be done in organising this merry expedition. Such as who is going, stay, and all the other little annoyances of the logistics that must orcs never both with, or dump on the Shamans of Ilneval like me. Slan go foil a chardai.

--

When: Spring 1356DR

Where: A little bit north of the stronghold, at the northern bridge

Northern bridge went down as the winter's snows turned to spring floods. So I've moved up early and starting getting the damned thing fixed now that the waters have subsided. Southern bridge-keep got hit as well but was more solidly built, or just luckier, and it's still supposedly in decent repair. Truth be told I'm somewhat glad to out and about, could do with the exercise after being essentially trapped in the stronghold by the snows over the winter. In part because I'm not doing the hardest work in the muck I'll admit, but that's one of the benefits being the boss orc of this lot here.

Slaves that were left here over the winter are in decent enough condition. As in their still alive, not horribly abused, and aren't walking scarecrows covered in whip marks and disease. Yes their lives are rather horrible but at least some things are being kept in place even when I'm not around to make everyone fall in line and not be chaotic stupid. Useful because successful and non-asshole-ish places like this get rewarded with a few more slaves, and other such things as better food and shin crap, for being so. Because this is nice land for farming and expanding it would be good even on the small scale.

On another note the wildlife has started to get more aggressive now that winter has ended, but little food remains. We've had a few wolves spotted up in the hills, along with more unnatural things such as sightings of an owlbear, so had Lua send some of her murder-hobos go bravely into yonder hills to hunt them down and return for a reward. Saves me changing the patrols at least, and between them, the watchtowers, and the murder-hobos, I believe any lower level threats can be dealt with. All I can hope is there aren't any bigger ones lurking, but if there are then at least somebody should see them and give us warning.

We've send some gnolls, well the ones that arrived as mercenary-adventurers, back to their clan of the Redjaws to try recruit more of their number. For my shinies basically, though to be serious the goal is to recruit what we can from our new 'kingdom' be they orc or not, and by whatever means necessary. Moonblades said their pulling in some hobgoblins mercenaries, and any of the non-orc mountain holds brought under Ilusk's domain will become vassals and send something if they've any sense of self-preservation. They are not like our villages here, nor will their militia, but it'll hold down rebellions as I stressed to Phargk afore he left. Or stressed very fucking politely at least because...

Time to go, Doctor Ned comes with Harpells bearing news it seems. Work, work, work, it seems.

--

[Roland 07]

Outskirts of the village of Longsaddle

"Warl, throw anything that's salvageable into your cart and then throw'em up beside'em. See anything else Gunnar?" Roland announced with an unhappy sigh as he pushed back up to a standing position. Looked like there was more work for him to do as Sherriff he figured glancing down at the body. Bloody adventurers killing each other again and causing him hassle he resisted grumbling as the dwarf shook his head while Warl removed whatever the killer(s) hadn't taken from the body. At least that'd probably make it easier to sort out who'd done the deed with whoever it was wearing or trying to sell the gear.

'At least once I find out from his mates what this fella was wearin' last' he mused he grabbed the feet and helped Warl heave the corpse up into the cart. Roland was fairly sure this was one of the lot that had drifted in over the winter from the east...and also that the skinny dead man had been suspected of more than one vanishing of coin and gems. Honestly if who ever had killed this moron had done it for that, well, all Roland wondered was hadn't they dumped the body further away so he, as village Sherriff, wouldn't have to bloody well deal with the damned thing.

"Though ah'll say Sherriff, whoever kilt dis idjit were pretty tall an' strong bash 'is head in like dat..." the hill dwarf muttered coming back over towards them after his little scout around. Or, more truthfully put, his little gaunt to get away from Eldyrn and his constant nattering "...gotta say it be as tall as a human least. Mace ah think?"

Roland nodded "Aye, looks like that to me as well. I'd reckon it be one of the *brave adventurers* who came into the village when we came back from dem damned orcs. I think this fella were a sneak thief of some sort and probably nicked something from one of the other groups and this be revenge for it..." he rubbed at the back of his head feeling tired as his mind started to work through the mess "...so first we need to figure out who did, and then find his mates and stop them trying to take revenge for him"

'And here's me thinkin' we'd gotten rid of the worst troublemakers when that lot of orcs over in the mountains recruited a good bunch of them and we sent that big caravan off to Mirabar afore the snows set it' he mused as ordered Warl to pull the cart, Gunnar to help him, and for Eldyrn to stop making light of the matter. Course more of the landless wandering lunatics had turned up, to join those that had opted to ride out the winter in the village, so he should have known better he reminded himself with annoyance. What was worse they'd picked right before the mad wizards wanted to start organising this trip to visit the crazy, lunatic, foppish sounding orcs to make his life difficult.

'Bloody adventurers and their bloody idiocy, don't they know this is Longsaddle where the Harpell's live and to stay away and leave he and the other village folk to our...almost...quiet lives in their shadow!' he groused silently as the cart creaked its way towards the Temple for Priestess Vartha to deal with. Or, at the least, the burial part of it so that the village didn't end up with an undead problem because one of the madmen and madwomen up in Ivy Mansion decided to test the ban on necromancy again.

Usually that sort of stuff, and all the rumours of it, would serve to keep most of the trouble away - and his own life much, much, easier than it was currently. Whole world was going crazy and determined seemingly to ruin Sherriff Roland's simple desires of eating his wife's lovely pies, drink some ale, and of course getting around to finally having children.

Thankfully it was early yet, the sun just rising for the dawn, and almost nobody was on the streets beyond those who'd found the body as they were heading off to work in the fields. With all the trouble outside the village most any family with any sense had moved into town with relatives, or forted up together in the bigger farmsteads, since the last harvest.

Most of the merchants, caravan guards and adventurers wouldn't be up and about for another hour, or two, he expected so if he was lucky he'd have time to get up to Ivy Mansion and inform Mage-Lord Ardanac of what had happen. Well, tell him of what happened and then get back down to said camp of troublemakers with a few of his armsmen and ensure a brawl didn't break out. Because brawls between idiots with swords and magic was just what he wanted to deal with this early in the morning...

"SHERRIFF RO-RO! HELLLLOOO!!!" an ear-piercingly sweet female voice came to his ears as he winced ever so faintly as usual from it. Almost bouncing towards him in the light of dawn was Keli, her own golden hair shimmering in the sunlight alongside her gold trimmed white robes. Valiantly, as a good sheriff should, he resisted groaning outright as the cheerful acolyte came towards them and his desire to be back in bed and away from all the crazy threatened to rise up. For a moment he thought about maybe his dear old Ma was right about being a decent hardworking hunter and living far away from other folk...

'Heavens above it's too early in the morning for all of this'

"Good day to ye Acolyte Keli, your looking...cheerful...as always. Sad to say been a bit of bad business over the night. Looks like some of them adventurer sorts got into a fight up on the path towards the fields, and we've got a body to be prepared for burial sad to say" greeted her with a sigh and rubbing at the back of his head. Couldn't have been Loshiri, or even the grumpy Priestess herself, now could it?

"Why the poor fellow!" she exclaimed gaily, dancing past Roland over to the cart and looking at the contents "...and left in the nip as well! Well, I'm sure between my and Loshiri we can get him all neat and tidy and clean for a proper burial! Isn't that right Mister Bloody Faced Corpse! Can't have you rising from the grave looking like that now, all that mud, and dirt, and half your face missing like that! Why that would be ever so awful now wouldn't it?"

'Are you asking us...or are you asking the corpse?' he was tempted to ask in reply as she gazed over the side of the cart and almost hummed as she spoke. Despite that thought he forced himself to nod, after a quick glare at the rest of his companions to shut the fuck up and not rile the girl anymore than usual, and reply to her with a smile "Yes indeed it would Keli, may I ask is the Priestess around ? I'd prefer tell her of events before I head up to the Ivy Mansion to make Lord Ardanac aware of the trouble stalking the village"

"Hmmmm? Oh, yes...the Priestess is just inside! Silly me..." she made a motion as if to punch herself in the head while giving a giggle "...oh course! Bodies, Murder, and that means a busy Sherriff! Hehe! I'll go get her immediately brave militia of Longsaddle!"

'Oh thank the gods' he thought nodding to her as she turned to leave and telling her one last thing "I'll shall wait here. The others here will just bring the body and the cart to the back of the Temple Keli, don't want everybody passing by and seeing it, and then gossiping like fishwifes about it!"

The blonde haired woman half-turned her head as she strode back towards the entrance to the temple "Okay Sherriff! Not a word from little old me! Not. A. Word! Hehe...wait till I tell Loshiri about this..."

Roland sighed as the girl moved out of sight "Oh Gods above, she's a lovely girl but...ugh..."

Gunnar and Elydrn grunted in agreement while Warl shrugged "Eh, she's got good hips, an' fine lookin' breasts too. She be fine wife I reckons"

Roland just stared at the idiot a moment like the other two did, before shaking his head "Warl...Warl, aye, her tits are about half as perky as that smile of hers, but...well...she'd kill puppies with that cheerfulness of hers, back me up here fellas"

"Aye, big sack of cats where a brain should be with er' Warl, an' don't forget half da village beat ya black'an'blue if'en ye screws it up an' makes her cry. Nary a one of us gonna stop ye chargin down that particular owl-bear, but best be havin' those eyes of yers open wide before ye do so..." Roland heard the hill dwarf grumble back quietly before the three disappeared from view behind the Temple along with the creaking wheel turn of the corpse-cart. He shook his head in mild exasperation; this was just great now wasn't it? This just seemed to be the day to keep on giving without it even having begun.

"Sherriff..." a voice greeted him after a few minutes of enjoying the spring morning in peace. Turning his head he nodded at the Priestess as she strode into view clad in her clerical robes with some light armour underneath from what he could see "...it seems you have encountered a spot of difficulty this fair morn"

He nodded "Indeed Priestess, we found the body up by the old willow tree on the path to the fields. Nasty business, and seems we are to be burdened with dealing with such things at an unfortunate hour"

Priestess Vartha snorted and folded her arms across her chest "Beneath the Light of the Dawn Lord...sigh...Roland, but you have poor timing. I must meet with the Mage-Lord in short so that he can broker some temporary peace between one who serves as I do, and those mad orcs he was to have us visit in short. Not an easy task even without such matters as this"

He smiled faintly "I fear it's the adventurers rather than I who is at fault here Vartha. And surely it can't be too difficult to speak words of peace to ones such as your own brothers and sisters in the faith?"

Something that sounded suspiciously like 'You'd think that?' was muttered by the Priestess before she looked over Roland's shoulder, then nodding in that direction "Is that not young Devon rushing towards us in quite the hurry?"

Roland groaned as he turned, and yes there dashing towards them was his youngest town guard looking in quite the tizzy "What now? Don't tell me they already started fighting in the camp? Because they shouldn't even know about their buddy yet since his friends are passed out drunk last I were told!"

Devon shook his head, gasping for breath as he came to a stop, resting hands on knees as he did so "No, ah...Sherriff...ha...ha...ha, there's a bunch ah...ah...fuggin them black elves...ha...de white air' standin' waitin' near da...ha..ha...da horn an' hoof lookin ta talk to someone important. Or summin' liuk dat. Days talkin' all fancy liuk theys is!"

--

When: Spring 1356 Dale Reckoning

Where: Kobold village of Verticha-di-shiny-usk

Negotiations with the Mirabarans, and hopefully through them with their Uthgardt mercenaries, has continued apace and we're at the stage of being ready to have an actual face-to-face meeting. This 'friendly meeting' will be not here in the valley because they don't trust us; or near places like Mirabar where they might ambush me and my escort and kill us all. Because I don't trust them; especially not to try and murder off some orcs for convenience sake as 'civilized' human folk are won't to those they don't care for.

So after alot of jawing the 'neutral ground' of sorts will be Longsaddle, perhaps unsurprisingly really. In a few ways it's ideal to us; they'll be due to send us a caravan in short from what the currently resident Harpell dynamic duo have told me. Long distance communications via wizards is rather useful let me tell you, even when out here in the wilds of the Crags. Dangerous too but I'm at the stage of being forced into having a more 'open' diplomacy setting mixed with more aggressive expansion policy for the likes of army size and fields to feed them.

My plans, such as they are right now, are to travel unto the Harpell settlement as soon as Krowluc's cavalry returns from scouting up north. Once I've got a decent sized escort we'll swing by and collect a few 'assisants' from the Moonblades, Red Axes, and Darth Phargk's lot so that everyone is on the same page if we agree a temporary truce of some sorts. At least with the Harpells playing neutral party I'm reasonably confident I'll make out alive; because if they wanted us dead then we'd be dead before we'd have much a chance of doing anything I expect.

I've sent word back to the stronghold about all of this, I'd like Missy to come with us if she wishes too since we'll be trading as well I expect. Two way caravan I'd expect with us 'escorting' the Longsaddle ones back here if we manage to discuss things with our foes. Rose wants to come with me; something I'm unsure of as its a bit dangerous, and I figured she'd want to see and stay at her home village during the blessings of the crops. But, No, she wants to come with so I'll have a thing about and place one of smarter clan-orcs in charge of the little wander about with the army. Zah and Breyza if he'll get up and do it by.

Now I must go, meetings with the scaly little ego-manics of this kobold vassal ahead for the night.

--

When: Spring 1356 Dale Reckoning

Where: Goblin-Town

Word's come up that Krowluc's returned with his cavalry to the stronghold, so I'll be heading back in the few days after he's rested them up a bit and I'm sorted this place a little. Bit of landslide over when the ground unfroze, so I'm having it cleared out at the moment and turned into a reinforced wood and mud barrier wall for the garrison. It's also a matter of expanding the fields, and mine entrance, here amongst all the goblins were trying to beat into shape as vassals. As best I can tell the fairly hefty bloodletting that occurred shortly after all the goblins formed up here has ended; makes it easier to watch them than have them spread out all over the valley.

Production in the mine is kinda low, but still Salt is bloody valuable for the clan. Silver too, but the Salt in particular as it's useful for both magical rituals, and of course for preserving foodstuffs. I'm trying really hard to ensure that all the villages have built up stores for the coming years, or to be more accurate the year very, very, rapidly approaching when we won't likely have magic to get in the crops. And if the goblins larders are as low then as they are right the fuck now; then they'll starve quite simply and that means we'll have to put down a rebellion. So expanding fields and making sure they fill those caves nearby with 'farmable' fungus like with Kobolds – least the little egomaniacs are well organised.

Beyond that the word from nearby is matching fairly well to what the visions showed, and what I've got showing up in the Tome of Wiki. Wildlife is badly disturbed as well of course, but that's due to the warfare erupting all around the Crags like when we drove the Bugbears out of the valley and that upset the balance elsewhere. Ironically I'd suspect the fact that the valley here has stabilised, and the other clans have been beaten into some facsimile of order, has made the situation outside of them worse I think. Long story made short orcs drive out nasty beasties, war everywhere all around North, then many nasty hungry beasties now.

Gonna go now, have a barrier wall to sketch out and instruct minions to get built when I leave. Thankfully my lot are getting pretty damned good at building field fortifications, even big ones like this, so it shouldn't take too long to get built however crudely. Slan go foill a charde.

--

When: Spring 1356 Dale Reckoning

Where: Stronghold of Sparta

Zah and his wife have taken charge of the little valley tour so there's that I guess, though that means Ghorza's coming with me towards Longsaddle. That means her; Missy, Rose and Doctor Ned are coming with me, alongside the dynamic Harpell Duo Bella and Harkle, as we travel off with a small caravan of things we want to trade.

Or more accurately bringing with us wagons to fill with stuff we want to buy and given shiny things like our new coinage, animal pelts and the like in exchange for all the things the clan need to keep expanding. Oh and buy cattle, sheep, and any others we can in the process. Chickens too, as chickens make eggs and that gives us another steady supply for food.

In terms of escort I'm leaning heavy on the mobile forces; all our mounted fighters under Krowluc and a couple of dozen more from both the Red Axes and Moonblades to bolster numbers. It limits us a little in terms of crossing the Crags, but it lets us move very fast and especially when we get unto the lowlands near to the Harpell's village. I don't want to get caught out in the open with a small infantry escort when the Uthgardters have heavy cavalry in play under a religious fanatic.

So if we are ambushed at least we can abandon the wagons, and then withdraw pretty fast back into our lands where we hold the superior numbers and negate any enemy cavalry advantages. Not that I'm overly looking forward to this as I'm not a great rider and riding the big dumb draft horses isn't overly comfortable. After all I end up spending a large chunk of the journey on the beasts worrying about fall off and hurting myself. Whatever the case we'll be getting on the move in short so must say goodbye for another day.

--

When: Spring 1356 DR

Where: South-Eastwards Stronghold of Sparta

Lost a rider today unfortunately; mountain lion attack on one of the vanguard being the cause of it. Killed the beast and healed up those injured, but it slowed us for a few hours as we hunted it down and untangled the column. Wagons are a nuisance on the narrower paths and gullies of the mountains let me tell you. That and the rain and fog that's beset us since we've left; had to move by day to get around it and that isn't overly fun even as a Spartan Orc let me tell you.

Other than that there's been little trouble, few goblins sniffing at the edge of the column, and we took a combination of tribute-trade from one of the recently vassalised orc clan's not a few hours ago. No signs of rebellion at least, but not guarantees of course; but they do seem to be doing as desired and readying themselves for the coming battles. I'd expect the whole region will start to come alive shortly after we start our return journey. Assuming this doesn't turn into a giant cluster-fuck of course, which it easily could despite all promises to the contrary. I th...

Must go sadly. Rose's lesson time on our brief break from the saddle.

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