When: 1357 Dale Reckoning, Year of the Prince apparently, Late-Winter/Early-Spring
Where: Shaman's Tower, Stronghold of Sparta
Amazing what a difference what a few solid days of good weather can make, even if winter isn't truly gone as yet, and the ground is no longer a muddy morass. With that in hand the process of mobilizing our clan's, and vassals, strength has begun once again and messengers, both magical or just runners, about arranging a meeting of the Illuskan clans in the coming weeks. Because it's not going to be here, not this time around, and in many ways it'd be best to have our forces in the field during the meeting; it'd go a ways towards encouraging the others to move as we wish. Tribal and feudal armies in the field, orcish ones especially, tend to want to do things because armies in the field are costly things to most such societies – funny how I'm coming forward with someone willing to pay us to go off and burn, fight, kill, eh?
Or at least that's the hope anyway, if I can keep that old bastard Darth Phargk onside, and our Moonblade allies too of course, then it shouldn't be an insurmountable strategy to get implemented. We've still got planting season to get through as well, so I suppose it's not our full strength we're taking as next year. Well, next year will be a divinely eventful one if factors and event hold to the 'should be 'category, basically; so one cannot afford a shortfall in this year's harvest in case next year's as bad as to be expected. To deal with that it'll be the usual 'tour' of the valley, using the forces available to fix and fortify what needs fixing and fortifying, and leave only the planting and other matters to be handled by the remaining people in the villages. Rose and Granny, plus under-training acolytes, are a big help in that and I need to make use of their blessings to prepare the land for said planting before Rose comes with me on campaign.
Anyway, my main efforts then have been investigating as much time in my training, both magical and combat wise, when I'm not wandering around the town checking we've supplies to move and fight. Equipping an army takes alot of effort basically, from food all the way down to having enough gambesons to ensure everyone has some level of armour. Oh, and helping my dear adopted daughter train up her own minions while she helps me do said checking; it's actually rather 'nice' to have a staff of some sort after over a half-decade here. Even down Tsuruhoki my naked librarian, and Lua running the Adventurers Guild. Speaking of the Guild; they are useful, even if just for keeping idiots doing things in the hills fighting monsters/bandits/wildlife/other-idiots rather than milling around in the stronghold.
Still a weird bunch, definitely eclectic, but they have hunted down some wolves and bears and brought pelts and some meat for salting in the outer settlements. They also serve as an informal 'postal service' for less important messages between the villages, and potentially as caravan guards while our forces are depleted over the spring-summer-autumn. I'm 'encouraging' the setup as I'd much, much, rather an organised bunch of murder hobos with some 'rules' and constraints that a bunch of idiots with powers wrecking everything around them – at the low cost of initial gear and general support. At the very least it gives them the experience and normalcy of working with the 'rightful authorities' of the land; it's not much, but it's a start I suppose. I prefer order, and more importantly structures that don't require me to be constantly focusing on them to function, because time is often limited.
Sadly must go, work to be done. Slán leat.
--
When: 1357DR, Spring, Time of nice sunny, if cold, spring weather.
Where: North Bridge, Valley of Sparta
On the move, again, and down at the riverbank, writing, out in the dusk air. Hardly ideal, but it's a break and I've been busy these past few days and nights, so I'm sitting on a rock using my lap as a desk and magic quill making it all possible. Thank you magic quill, you make things so much easier than lugging ink around everywhere and were a fantastic investment of time and effort. So, we're on the road to Shiny Iron village and the lovely little egomaniacs that run it. It's the best place to start in my view, and we'll work our way back west and then south till we finish in Zybelin's Drift and the watchtowers beyond.
Northbridge here needs some work, repairs after winter floods, so we've stopped here a time and repairing what needs to be repaired, as well as improving the fortifications where needed. This and Southbridge are choke-points to some degree, and we've given them over to older veteran warriors and their households to run. Slaves included, but I've done my best to warn them they won't be getting more if they screw this up. At least this way we don't require leaving large garrisons at the places and instead use small groups in better fortifications and response forces nearby to reinforce. Hells, we're even using stonework in this round of construction and repair.
Now Qilue Veladorn has come with my large 'escort' for the tour/inspection/farm blessing, as much to get out of the town and castle than anything else I expect but it could also just be to spy on me. I'm fine with that, better than leaving her behind with Zah in charge and me worrying about some blow up between stupidly powerful nudist and my best friend who has an army at his beck and call. So myself, Ghorza, and Rose have travelled with her, talking on various religious matters and what her people will do when they establish their village after all this messiness is finished. Assuming we survive of course; the best laid plans of mice and men can easily be undone as history of this world and another shows.
Missy's back in the stronghold with others, only Rose and Ghorza with me for now it seems and Oggy is more focused on home than touring up to the kobolds and goblins. She has agreed that we'll bring the children down to Zahgorim's Conquest and Zybelin's Drift once we've gathered up the northern valley levies and return back through the stronghold proper. I miss the kids already honestly. Focusing on my duty and work takes the mind off it, but it's going to be a long period away from them once again so best get used to it I suppose. That and ensuring I've enough supporters in place to ensure their safety should I die and some attempt 'regime change' within the clan. Nasty business, having to plan a set of murders if one should bite it, but needs to be done; family safety first, and as best as one can in this cruel world.
Anywho;- gotta go, shouting indicates I'm to bash some heads together and get a wall built.
--
When: Spring of the Year of the Prince
Where: Verthicha-Di-Shiny-Uk, or Mountain of Shiny Iron; because kobolds can be literal.
Okay, kobolds are both great and annoying. Annoying in that they yap and yap about great they are, while planning to murder each other, but also great subjects to have because they are industrious little egomaniacs when they aren't plotting. Because they've expanded their 'surface village' after clearing away the trees around the mine entrances and moving up rock and iron up from the mines below; seems their getting into alcohol production at the behest of our own egomaniac kobold tavern owner. That and basic tool-working, of a better standard than before, with small wagons under construction for planned trade with the human villages to the south.
That's actually forward planning on their part, since we've sorta conscripted their wagons already and these ones are ideal for creatures their size versus ones our size. I've no issue with this, we'd been planning on leaving a number of wagons around to keep the nascent inter-valley trade going anyway, and better they be producing things like tools and wagons than plotting a rebellion. Not that they aren't plotting against us in some manner, but I rather it be cutthroat business plotting against each other than raising rebel armies to rise against the orc tyrants plotting basically. To encourage that it's been a matter of raising their levies to fight with us, and gifting 'rewards' out to them to encourage trade...and plotting against each other. I may not be charismatic enough, but find out what they want and give it to them while you get what you in exchange works as well.
For now the kobold auxlia are training up against the Janissary auxlia and members of the female auxlia; want to see what level they're at after the winter. Plan is to take one or two of the stronger members of the clan with us, and their warriors, and that should dampen any issues against us with them having a chance to win 'glory' in battle along with loot, and ensure they don't wipe out their weaker internal enemies within the kobold village. It's taken a bit to figure out who's what, but getting there slowly but surely. Group power dynamics and individual desires are critical to any ruler as rules for rulers once said; or keys to power as it was put...or something like that anyway. Zah's the strong warlord ruler and I'm supposed to be the background organiser, planner, ensuring his rule so a good skill to have I guess.
Whatever the case times up, off to talk to the height impaired kings of their own little hill and see when our cavalry will be ready to head out and scout the northern passage somewhat. It's more for their training, few new recruits amongst their ranks and winter's end, but I do prefer regular scout missions and reports to ensure others aren't becoming active with the upsurge in the good weather. Bye for now.
--
[Maekrix'edar'nesh Kirask'Iden'nabal 06]
Rulers Cavern, Verthicha-di-shiny-uk
Fueryon was a hit as always he could tell as she gyrated energetically, golden bracelets on wrists and ankles clinking in rhythm like he'd had her breeder Vaerier train her as silk streamers flowed around the slave's body over the rumble of drums reverberating within the caverns. His contribution to the clan's great feast along with several barrels of ale from the human village he'd had brought with him; a small price to pay to ensure a steady supply of goods and customers into the next year.
That idiot female Eshkta was trying to build her own power in the clan after all, but he, the Mightiest and Smart of Future Dragons, had outwitted her yet again and ensured a supply of better spears from the south of the valley for lesser coin thanks to dealings with the Shaman and his orcs. And of course it was he, Maekrix'edar'nesh Kirask'Iden'nabal the Wise, who had brought word to his sire Tucker that the orcs would need many warriors to range north against their foes.
Time that allowed him to ensure many of his enemies, or just the dum-dums, in the clan to be sent off to war under proper commando leaders in the hopes they'd be useful; maybe stop a spear with their face if they didn't become his allies in the meantime. It was always a balancing act between sending allies and enemies off to war when much, much, loot was on the line alongside the chances of them getting killed; or challenging for power should then remain in the caverns. That or return empowered and then challenging his preferred clan leaders like Tucker.
'Plans for that are always hard though; just see what happens and adjusting plan then' he mused listening, watching, for the ever stupid threats that could come dum-dums and schemers when everyone was together like this and plotting was prevalent. Ipmip was still the suck-up tail sniffer to whoever was in the strongest position; which remained Priest-King Tucker, but the useless little sycophant was always a good one to watch for who was up and coming like young Nurhusht. One who was best sent off to gain experience as a Commando Leader he thought himself, something that would hopefully bring the more martially inclined dragon-blooded kobold into his, and Tucker's, orbit.
"Hears youse usings Tikde and Snakda hunts things yes-yes?"
He nodded back in response to Ipmip "Yes-yes, is dum-dums, but works hards dum-dums. Snakda happies bosses rounds Tikde, gobbies and humie, and Menkins happys bosses thems arounds to makes Menkins more shinnies. Makes whole clans more shinnies thanks to Menkins!"
"Hmph, theys dum-dums yes-yes, leavings dens and not even setups up new dens likes Menkins evens!" Eshkta hissed between drinks of the mushroom brandy "...wantings runs around beings adventurers theys says! Trusting gobbies nots be dum-dums they says! Is mads Iz says, mads!"
"Eh, mads dum-dums Menkins agrees, but do works goods; killings nasty fox things that try eat eggs they dids after Menkins payings thems hmm-hmmm! Menkin sayings best make uses of mad-bad adventurers to hunt down bad things, and other mad-bad adventurers who try takes all our shinnies!" he told her, dumbing it down for the idiot, rather than give her ideas for making better use of the adventurers guild. Once he had a better association with the new group that'd be fine, but for now it was best to keep things for matters that benefitted him. All agreed with the comment though, nods and hisses of agreement following over the increasingly frantic beat of the drums and his Fueryon's equally energetic frenzy of movement to match.
"Hmm-hhmm, yes Menkin says rights Tucker agreeing" the Eye of Kurtulmak who'd sired him agreed "...is best use them clearings outs mountains to norths and easts whiles clan makes farms and more buildings to make things to trades aboves grounds"
'Ah, good he listened to what has been said to him' he thought to himself as the plans to expand the clan holdings above and below ground were laid out. Much as they wished to move against the wicked, not-serving-Menkin, Bloody-Grobbolith-Shripomn clan on the other side of the valley the orcs would never allow them to do so. So...they would fight them by trade and words and occasional assassination instead to prove who were the most deserving dragon blooded of the species within the valley!
"Eshkta agreeing yes-yes..." the female voiced her agreement on the subject, one of the few things he and she both supported in unison "...clearing side tunnel and put tracks to haul makes things fasters, froms haul things to makings more rooms frees for bestest members of clans"
Tucker hissed in agreement "Hmm-hmm, yes, Tucker has seeing..." motioning at both of them with his hands "...and yes-yes, sees that buyings four big ugly and hairy slaves and using all thats shinnies gets proper tracks was best idea from alls"
"Not workings thems to deaths Menkins hopes? Iz not grows on trees Menkins knows, and orkies bosses gets mads whens dum-dums wastes slaves whose coulds be trained and do many many things..." he interjected, though more for the idiots than anything else as the clan had always struggled with actually having slaves till now due to constant raids and size issues "...and whats haves should bes enoughs for nows yes-yes!"
The old mining tunnels, once the tracks had been fixed, though was ideal for their sizes and it allowed the clan to setup a 'regular service' of hauling ore, or hatchlings to and from location to location within the mine. He should know as Tucker had him inspect the four creatures, and all had been in good health albeit gone very pale from being underground most of the time for months. More muscled too, and being fed properly; resulting in a rather pleasant, and more importantly swift, journey down the mine shaft to the lower caverns with his gear without the need to carry it all, or entrust a number of others to carry it.
"Yes-yes, Tucker have dum-dums who damaging thems hurts even worse than the beasts hurts!" came back and a motion of the arm to indicate them all "...no dum-dums here afters all!"
'Oh there are plenty here, but that should shame those that are into not being idiots' he thought to himself as the drums came to a rapid-fire crescendo before stopping to hissing cheers of the clan members present. Fueryon doing the same, frantic movements before the drums stopped and she dropped to her knees immediately, arching her body backwards, head looking up towards the ceiling and arms outstretched. He nodded fractionally, though delighted inside as the lights flashed out from her hands and danced over sweat soaked flesh in a coordinated manner. Everyone was very impressed at his skill at training her he found as they voiced and motioned their delight at brief flash of what looked like dragon that appeared above Fueryon's stomach and chest.
'Good, good, knew sending her to the wizards to learn would pay off' he mused to himself as he clicked his claws and call for her to return to him. Thankfully the smell of animal sweat was minimal despite her exertions, unlike the last time he's learned to use strong perfumes and oil before the event to ensure she stayed pleasant while in company. She grinned at him happily as she bounded over, seeing his signal of approval, before dropping back to her knees before him, hands and forehead coming down to rest unto the ground breathing heavily. Idly he patted her head, moving the bangles in her ponytail so they didn't jangle while they returned to talking.
"That is goods to hears, though caves will have less-less heres with great raiding to come; many shinnies to be gotten"
"Hmmm-hmmm, Nurhusht youse are leadings..." Priest-King Tucker hissed contentedly while chewing on some roast badger "...buts be wary as orkies always breakings up clan to try make works with wicked ones froms mushrooms place! So tries works with thems and not pissing off orkies, want any troubles comes from mushroom dum-dums nots ours dum-dums!"
"Yes, yes, Nurhusht knowings this, workings with orkies and gobbies whens big orc chief takes over humie village and brings back valleys. Follows orders, makes others village looks bads, grab shinnies and slaves, Nurhusht knowings"
"Nots from humies or elfies or dwarves in city course" the commado leader clarified and the others nodded in agreement "...just froms bandits or Luskan humies or big dumb Utties"
"Nots bigs warriors no-no-noes" Eshkta clarified waving her hand, drink splashing indicating faint drunkenness already "...Iz not wantings repeats last times have ones whens goings berserks and killings many, many, in camps when Iz hatchling"
He resisted rolling his eyes at the whining, as if they could be that able in the field and not risk losing clan-members to do it. Sure she was right, but no Commando was stupid enough to believe otherwise and would swiftly pass the warriors, or soon to be warriors, over to the orcs or sell them one before they became a problem of that level. Thankfully he himself wouldn't have to risk such dangers in the field, but it'd be useful to pick up a few spoils while he made coin off the lesser business that would continue in the valley despite so many warriors being away at war where they weren't his paying customers. He took a drink of his brandy; wars were such irritating affairs for a fine business dragon such as he, and while he'd made a nice tidy profit on getting the army equipped it'd still be less than if they'd all been drinking his booze and eating his food.
"Wells, best decidings what wants soons as big shaman's leavings for gobbies town withs the moon tomorrows and then warriors bes gone and hards sends orders too..." he reminded them taking another drink and then chewing on some lovely fried grubs "...but Menkins sayings best sends young sorcerers withs thems, or trainings with Adventurers Guilds if wants Menkins sponsors thems, as much magics being used. Humie village gives priestess make more crops goes, Menkin thinkngs we needs have Might Dragon Magics show them ours magic is strongs and wants using as well"
Conveniently enough that would also get them away from easy power-base building, some King Tucker offered agreement with "Hmm-hmm, nots bads ideas thats, as more magic goods when snots enough healers for us against whats humies and gobbies sending with orkies"
"We sendings many potions, not needs many healers others than mightiest of healers that is King Tucker..." Ipmip stated "...but mighty is rights; sendings many sorcerers means bad ones die-die and only best ones come backs clans, yes-yes!"
"Potions only goings so far Ipmip, and costs many, many, coins makings..." he groused back because it was true "...and that's with Menkins havings human Petra and my Fueryons helpings mes makings thems. Is why has adventurers staying heres and hunting down animals and herbs. Nows we talks whose wants sends wheres, to wars or to Menkins so he talks to crazy drow female hmm?"
--
[Karguk 71]
Goblin Town, Valley of Sparta
Cold misty rain was falling, though thankfully the heavy cloak over my head and body kept me fairly warm and dry as I strode through the streets of the military camp turned large goblin village. My own fault for being out in it of course, but I wanted to ensure the place wasn't just one big fire hazard waiting to happen and to see how long Rose would take to bless the fields tomorrow. So far, so good, I'd found as my clan-orc's small garrison had maintained some degree of order and the place was slowly evolving into so facsimile of a town. Helped, I think, by the fact there was obvious trade into the goblin settlement from the kobolds, the humans, and ourselves for the salt in the mines below.
Doubtful they were naturally created though, or maybe they had been dating back to the time of Buried City beneath the stronghold and magic had been used to help main the place. Whatever the case it was definitely true that the goblins had started working what were old mines; one of the reasons they'd moved here when we started forcibly 'organising' the valley a few years ago. Some of them were smart little feckers really, bit of halfling blood in them apparently judging from the looks in one or two cases, but it seemed killing off the worst of the stupid had revealed a few 'diamonds in the rough' in terms of potential full blooded goblin leaders. I glanced at Rose walking along beside me.
"Enjoy negotiating on behalf of your village with the goblins?"
She made a face "Ugh"
I laughed softly, patting her armour clad shoulder "I know, fun times, they're not as stupid as they let on when it comes to getting their shinies, same as the kobolds are. You did a good job I think actually, shouting and threats included, so give that look. You did right by your village, and as good, or better, than your Gran would have got"
"Maybe, but that might be just because you were there"
"Only a little I expect, I was a bit distracted if you'll recall; demanding more foot soldiers for the campaign and to not start killing each other when we depart the valley" I replied, our armoured feet, and those of the orcs nearby, thudding off the crude road leading into the fortified palisade of our vassal village. It was a bit weird seeing goblins farming, but here it was all around us, and largely slave free...or at least non-goblin slave free as there were quite a few of those from defeated bands and clans that had resisted our conquest of the valley.
Still, it was an improvement, or at least the veneer of civilization being thrust upon a bunch who'd been scavengers, raiders, and hunter-gatherers till now. The issue with the goblins was in many ways not the numbers we were levying, they had little issue with giving more overall than I wanted after all. But in the allocation amongst the powerbases forming within the large village thanks to hammering dozens of little bands and villages into one 'town' around the mines.
Take more...from my rivals was the best description of the goblins view of the subject and it was going to a struggle to make sure I didn't favour too strongly. Or at least show favour to ones who'd betray us, or were simply ambitious but not willing to work with other species and bow the head to us; that and make those towing the line overly ambitious if they consolidated enough to feel the winds had changed. All while trying to encourage inter-valley trade, largely so that there was an incentive of sorts to following the rules with mutual self-interest maybe?
"Do you think Mirabar will hold till we arrive?" she asked as after a few moments silence as we walked along together. An important question really, and one on my mind to some degree now that the time to move was drawing near and I found myself with a sense of urgency in completing tasks now that the winter was seemingly ended "Do sieges last long Papa?"
Still it was one I didn't have a firm answer on, because we could only move so fast in gathering our strength safely, and then there would be a significant delay once we'd done that in negotiating the horde and then our...allies amongst the 'civilized' races. So I settled for a sigh, breath steaming on the misty drizzle, and a nod of the head "It should...has to really cuz we can't move any quicker and there's several ten-days of negotiation and arguments ahead in gathering out forces and moving on the city. Long as they don't take it by storm or magic I reckon, it's held off manys a horde before after all...but can't be sure in truth. Which is why we move at our own pace to ensure our people are protected first and foremost Rose, in the end we're just mercs to them and the lot of them could turn on us in a heartbeat. Like last year when they ganged up on us with Luskan"
"Oh, that's fine Papa, I'm just worried if we'll have enough time to bless the planting is all..." she replied matter of factly "...the weather isn't very good yet, the ground is still hard, and it might take longer than we'd talked about in the stronghold"
"Yeah, I was afraid of that being the case. Don't worry, other things are slowing us down as well, so you and your Gran will get a bit of extra time I expect without much difficulty..." I admitted, it was an issue and just the nature of travelling the valley, parleying and raising levies for a major war so soon after the end of a harsh winter "...but nothing to be done about. We've already sent runners and riders to the other clans, and I won't risk a bad planting, or weakening our defences, just to rush off and march into the mountains..."
"Boss" Hreshgk's voice interrupted my response and I glanced to my side where my bodyguard/acolyte motioned off down the path behind us "...riders inbound. Looks like Captain Krowluc back early from the banner, only a squad though"
I frowned slightly, pausing my walk and turning around to glance down the path to where the small band of horse-orcs came forward at the trot as sentries motioned them to slow. Really they shouldn't be back for another day or two, largely when we'd be heading on, and a few of the horses had riders with someone holding onto the back of them. That indicated there was an issue, potentially lost horses which could mean a fight, so I motioned at Rose and Hreshgk, then to where the horses came to a stop a distance away to talk to the sentries on the outermost picket line.
"Right, change of plan; let's see what's going on"
"Raiders maybe?"
I shrugged slightly in response to Rose's question, the armour doing little to indicate it as I pulled the cloak back around me and resigned myself to the delay in getting to the warmth of a fire and then something to eat "Hard to know, they don't look too worried from here but there back early and Krowluc rarely does that unless there's something of note of report back"
Raiders were always a concern for Rose's village, and she didn't to take a hard line in regards dealing with them in general just like her Grandmother. Not so much of a problem right now, but Rose seemed inclined to hunt down any possible ones wherever possible; pushing the bounds of our order and control as far from her village as possible. Part of the lurking around the valley was in 'discouraging' an outbreak between the vassals after all so that it became an external rather than internal problem for our lands; the 'Adventurers Guild' also offer 'raid somewhere else' if need be as an option too. Hypocritical perhaps, but stealing my cows was bad, while stealing enemy cows was good civ-wise, even Rose would probably disagree.
"Long as Egars not with'em..." Rose muttered "...told Krowluc keep him away so he doesn't cause any trouble for the village"
I snorted in amusement as we walked along "Hmmmm? Is that you were bribing the Captain about back in Shiny Iron?"
She rolled her eyes "One of his riders from my village, he's an idiot and causes trouble. Best keep him away while you had me talk to the goblins with you, case he trips an' sticks his sword in someone's daughter. Krowluc keeps him out of trouble and he gets discounts on healing and potions"
"Uhhh...okay then" I replied not really sure of how to respond to that, the distance to our quarry closing with them having dismounted across the field "...seems your turning into quite the little schemer eh?"
She huffed, mostly in amusement, at that but I frowned as we neared to where the dismounted cavalry squad were talking to the orcs on picket duty; hands raised in greeting towards me. I motioned back with my hand, seemed we had guests judging by the two standing amongst the riders, one taking a drinking of water from a waterskin, and other with their backs to me. She turned, an orcish female and then other who looked similar in...
'Ah...feck, Shandy and Tana...or Spellfire Girl and Runaway Princess; Orc Edition' I thought to myself slamming down on surprise and instead turning my attention on the squad leader. One of Krowluc's lieutenants, the half-elf Bareyaras despite his attempts to look more human, who saluted fist to heart at my approach "Right, what've got? I can guess, but what's the word"
"Hail Shaman, Captain sent us back...ugh, their Questosrs they claim, and Cap'n said you'd warned of such and to send'em to you iffin we found any"
Tanalasta was pushing forward now, Boss above did that woman give off the 'proud warrior' vibe unlike the nervous looking Shandy despite the two looking near identical even as orcs. For all her Princess-ness the now-an-orc Alusair really did appear to be what she was pretending to be; a female orc servant of Ilneval looking to prove her warrior strength and worthiness on a quest. That and the tone as she spoke, boldly coming before me, but not too close, as my escort stared at her coldly "You are the Shaman Karguk of the Crags"
I looked back, hopefully schooling my expression to calm and curious as I starred her down "Yes, you claim you are on a quest?"
She growled, ever so faintly, before going down to one knee after grabbing the shoulder of Shandy who'd come up nervously beside her "Aye, the Gods have sent I, and my sister, on a quest to prove our worth. The Cunning Warrior demanded we seek you out and aid you in war, and I offer you our service and blades in His Name"
I nodded, looking down at them as Rose glanced at them, then me, with a 'huh?' look upon her face "Aye, I had visions of such from the Boss..." I sighed motioning at my guards and riders to relax "...so I accept your service and blades in His Name. Rise now, let us talk and then test your worthiness"
--
When: Early Spring, 1357 Dale Reckoning
Where: Goblin Town, Valley of Sparta
Well, my headaches are growing in their own special little way. Shandril and Alusair have arrived, though in the guise of the orcish questing sisters Shandy and Tanalasta, and I've Qilue Veladorn running about a village of the merry little goblin menaces. Yes I knew it was coming, but that doesn't mean I've got to enjoy the outcome when it does happen and something I'd have preferred more time into the future before it did. But, sadly, that's not to be the case so one lives and deals with the here and now as best one can.
Tanalasta is as good a fighter as I expected, and really it was her that passed the duo's Test of Worthiness as we'll call it; or in practical terms we'd see it as beat the shit outta this guy here, or be tough enough to take a beating. Sufficed to say Alusair beat up the 'tester' with put up against her and passed with flying colours as being worthy of joining the Clan, and Illusk, through it. Shandy is a different case, as she could barely fight her way out of a ring with a recruit, but I'm counting her as 'potential acolyte of the arcane' after I've made an assessment of her 'worthy' over a period of time. Largely so the whole Spell-fire thing don't leak.
Easier said than done as I'm pretty sure 'Shandy' is supposed to be some kind of secret weapon, or fallback option, because the Boss Orc clearly wants both trailing along with our army to war. What exactly I'm going to do with them is still to be decided, and something I'll discuss with them in the coming days as they 'settle in' to the camp like the few other rag-tag elements we've got. What are called 'camp followers' in that eclectic mixture of wannabe traders, whores, and a few adventurers not suited for the Legion ranks, that I'm to have to get a handle on before it bloats on the march as join the other clans.
I like to run a tight ship, even if it's an army not a ship, and we're on land. Bad metaphor perhaps, but something important to handle basically. Largely as Qilue Veladorn and her small retinue would constitute one of those 'odd' hangers on for the march - and it's the part most likely to slow us down, as well as be a weakest link in the army chain. I'm inclined to think it's a probably of success; we didn't have it before, but there's loot to be got and thinking about now the nature of our expedition, well, it'll grow. That and have to be guarded, all while dealing with a potential dwarven one. I'm thinking of putting Doctor Ned in charge of it, crazy as that sounds.
He is coming with us, Luskan vengeance mission apparently getting him out of the Undercity, and it gives him something to do. Plus, more importantly, he's rather powerful and used to dealing with various species in the role of trader; and he's Cruenditha the Murder Dwarf as a bodyguard alongside my buddy Etlin. Between those too I'm sure order of some sort can be organised within that part of the army without causing any problems within the ranks. Because everyone wants to be in charge as the Big Boss of whatever and Ned's a big stick that won't be challenged. Well, challenged and survived basically.
That would allow me to assign Shandril to an actual trained mage while on the road, and have a reason for Alusair to be around while both are on their 'holy quest' from the Gods. It's either that or I find away to make her a squad leader in the Legion, or shuttle her off to Krowluc's cavalry as she's a skilled rider already. A matter for later in the week I expect; the ten-days ahead are rather busy anyway, and I might ask Oggy and Ghorza for advice when we meet up shortly.
It's not like I can take her as my apprentice, not Tanalasta, when I'm meeting Old Phargk and back to being his apprentice while playing war-leader. Yes I know it's reducing our defences in the valley significantly, magic wise, and it has led to discussions of Ghorza staying behind and playing Lord Commander of Zybelin's Drift and general warriors for me. Zah coming with the army is an issue with both of them, and I'd like to firm up internals considering most of family is staying home so to speak.
Truthfully too much of our 'leadership plans' are, outside me and Zah going, are up in the air and jockeying for position amongst the middle ranks going alongside my urge to retain veterans to train here in the valley with the youngsters. It's about constant training, and having replacements for any losses we take in this campaign in that regards; a system that might, maybe, endure a little longer than one big bloody battle. It's a slow evolution, chaotic at that, rather than an orderly planned creation by and large but after more than a half decade it's getting there I like to think.
Whatever the case our army starting to swell into a decent sized fighting force despite only a small orcish 'core' due to the kobold and goblin levies raised. Their drilling now, out beyond the fields, while Rose goes about blessing said fields with her acolytes, and Blood Mushroom village is next on the agenda. That done I'll have all the 'small folk' levies raised and we march downriver and raise the human ones along with the rest of the clan-orcs afterwards under Zah. Slower than I'd like, faster than I'd feared really, so Mirabar better hold out on its own till we could muster I guess. For now I must cease my scribbling and go back to work. Slán.
--
When: Early Spring, 1357 Dale Reckoning
Where: Bloody-Grobbolith-Shripomn
More Kobolds, yay!
Who aren't super friendly with the other kobolds in the valley either; partially my fault, as divide and conquer, but it's irritating as well dealing with both groups in close proximity as well. Or what could be called a game of stop the urge for random violence between little scaly egomaniacs hissing at each other threateningly. Funnily there's less trouble in the warrior ranks, because we force them to work together under our orders, but mostly amongst the merchants, leaders, and various not-lower-ranked kobolds of either side. It's easy see why most of the trade between the two kobold villages is through ourselves, and the goblins and humans, rather than with each other directly.
I've reinforced our garrison here as well; mostly female archer auxlia, but another squad or two of clan-orcs to man the watchtowers looking down into the eastern pass to the valley. Magnificent view by the way, as I'm enjoying it now as I write here thanks to the winds dying down and a spot under a bit of shelter. Less accessible from the east due to the sheer nature of the mountains, and even getting up here was a tiring walk from the western side and kobold town below. Where Shiny goes deep into the earth our friends here built up the hill and into the caves in a shallow manner; given time I'm guessing there'll be little lifts up the slopes judging from what the scaly dudes are up too in a few spots.
Riders in from the Moonblades as well, so news on that front; seems their mobilising as well, and so are the various groups around them that they've subjugated. Imitation is flattery and all that since they, and the Red Axes more gratingly, have taken on a similar model to ourselves from what I can tell. Least I know we seem to have their support for marching on Mirabar, much of what the riders brought was in regards that and I've sent them on to Zah with my own scribbling and clan-messengers as well. That's a help; if we, I, can keep them and Darth Phargk focused on a [Not Totally Evil] Plan then we've a hope of pulling off a successful attack and gaining an anti-Luskan alliance for a little while.
In other news Shandy is an amusing mixture of competent, excitable, clumsy, and nervous, all while clearly eager to learn whatever she can despite the big terrifying army of the dark races she's just joined. Tanalasta is more taciturn, more orcish really, and when she does it's largely through sparring matches to show her martial prowess and apparently playing Waagh! because it's a board/card/dice game about strategy and gambling. An area she's good at apparently despite only learning the game in the short few days since arriving; an impressive feat really. I've had Rose watching out for them, and watching them, as I felt they'd be less inclined to be wary of a pretty human girl than a big burly orc warrior like Hreshgk.
I don't intend to tarry here long though, there's less fields here as yet and Rose will do her blessing tomorrow and by then the wagons shall be full and we can move on. Where I can thankfully meet up with my family once again for a little while before it's off to war and I shan't see them for many months, if I survive and make it back to them at all. Interestingly the mood of our resident Drow Chosen has improved, though why I'm not fully sure of exactly as it's been goblins and kobolds she and her priestesses have been around since we've left the stronghold. We talked early on their village on the other side of the valley, though I admitted there's not much we can do till Mirabar is dealt with and more of her people arrive to build it, and then live there.
Now, must go, winds picking up and it'll get hard to write. Slán go foil a chardaí.
--
[Roland 11]
Village Centre, Village of Longsaddle
He blew warm breath on his hands to warm them on this chilly spring morning, watching as off in the distance the sun began its slow ascent into the sky. Faint mist clung to the ground, rising from the damp soil and grass as he gave a yawn and threw on his gloves and threw his cloak around his shoulders. Another day, another problem to be solved most likely he expected taking a few moments to enjoy the shimmering, dancing, dawn sunlight on the misty hills and forests distant. Off in the distance where the dwarves and his current headaches lay waiting; adventurers, madmen, and mercenaries who had been drawn to the banners of the Dwarf King to strike out and 'save' the city of Mirabar.
'The sooner their gone the better' he thought to himself striding forward from his house after a last tightening of his sword belt, and a check that he'd brought his coin purse with him. Sure the dwarves brought business to the village, and trade goods when they initially turned up, but having a small, bored, army of dwarves and adventurers lurking near his village was not a fun experience to have as Sherriff. He didn't even have to walk far before the first problem reared its ugly, short, head along with a series of gods-awful snores. Checking first that the troublemakers weapons were out of reach, he gave the drunken dwarf a kick in the leg...then another when the useless idiot hardly noticed it.
"Hey YOU! Wake up and bugger off back to your camp to sleep it off!" he growled, finally getting some flailing motions from the smelly fellow along with blinking of bloodshot eyes and growling noises. Probably meant to be threats, or complaints, Roland figure giving a last kick, one hand on his sword hilt and the other point to where the rest of the bearded menaces lived "...up and at'em! Camp and yet King is thata way! Move it! Move it!"
"Problem Boss?" the tired voice of Warl drifted over on the morning air behind him as he managed to 'help' the good dwarf back to his feet and headed in the general direction of where he should be. Turning his head he saw the burly form of his militiaman, giving a nod of greeting.
"Mornin' Warl, nothing much, just another morning, another drunken dwarf to send on his way"
"Aye, can see, look'em wobble his way home. Tis almost funny ya know"
Roland gave a snort "Gets a lot less funny when ye've got Zook bitchin' to ya that they broke a table, or the women when they call one of fat and ugly, or just throw up outside their hut. Now that yer up, and find him funny, you get the honour of escortin' him and any of his friends up ahead to their camp"
"Ahhh, Boss"
He gave his subordinate a hard look as up ahead the drunk went face down into the ground and began snoring again "Ye find it funny, and would you rather head on up to the Ivy Mansion and talk to his Lordship and the rest of the family?"
"Nah Drunk Dwarf it is, thanks Boss!"
Roland sighed, shaking his head as Warl strode forward with a jaunty wave and moved to pick up the fellow fallen down and now covered in mud. Nobody wanted that part of the job, and he'd been seeing far, far, far, too much of the Harpell family and the Mage-Lord...and a host of other crazy out of town folk from drow, to dwarf-kings, and insane orcs. Longsaddle had swelled in size over the past three winters due to the roads growing increasingly dangerous; a second, temporary, village forming adjacent to the main village before being effectively taken over this winter by the Dwarf King of Mithril Hall and his band.
What was worse the Harpell family had, to the mild horror of himself and most of the villagers, begun to regularly walk the village and grounds nearby. Largely to look at, and poke at, the visiting dwarves and trapped traders while assailing them with questions on the most random. Oh, and most likely causing man-eating taverns to appear nearby and try to eat you most like; despite their claims otherwise Roland his suspicions. It reeked too much of the 'frog-horse' or 'I meant to create that giant hole in the ground!' one heard far too often from the lunatics who were his magical overlords. About the only positive was, while he'd have to ride herd on them potentially to meet the orcs, he wouldn't have to go on a mad adventure northwards.
"Mornin' Krom, busy as ever I see!" he greeted the blacksmith, short muscled arms moving amidst the clang of metal being bent into shape. The beardy and soot stained face of the dwarf didn't immediately look up at him, instead moving to lift up the glowing hot steel...an axe head looked like to Roland...with some thongs and dipped the glowing metal into a water basin with a steaming hiss. Roland held back at the doorframe, watching as the smith finished his task, before turning his attention back to Roland himself, wiping his hands off the apron he wore.
"Mornin' ta ye Roland, hope yer nary come for an order as ah'm goin' be workin' me dwarven arse off for the next few ten-days dealin' with all the demands me kin an' their hangers on have dumped on me"
Roland shook his head "Nay Krom, I've been keepin' me sword clean and well maintained like ya told me manys a time afore. No I'm just checkin' up there haven't been any troubles need sortin' or, more importantly if you anything delivered to the Ivy Mansion since that's me stop for the day"
"Ah, laddie, yer a saint savin' me the trouble, give me a moment would ye" the dwarf rumbled back giving him a friendly nod before walking over to the doorway into the building proper and vanishing from Roland's line of sight. From inside he could hear the voices of Krom's wife Ceryn and children alongside the rumbling of metal and wood being moved; Roland rested easily against the thick wooden pillars frame the smithy, watching the village slowly come alive.
"...here ye are laddie, a dagger an' a steel bound scroll case fer Beautiful Bella. Already paid fer, so just needs deliverin"
Roland chuckled softly to himself "Lucky for you then Krom that I'm travelling in that direction"
"Aye laddie, ah'll owe ye fer it, canna do without that wee madness for ye know" he seemed to hum back handing over the two items in a leather pouch "...an' ye hear word from de south?"
He nodded "Well, had Warl drive one the new arrivals unto the camp, and were talkin' to he and his kin when they arrived into the village. One war maybe over if that King of Shadows fella be finally slain. Even if the roads are supposed be still in chaos, and for plague to stalk the lands"
"Ach, plague always stalk the lands after wars like that...that an' monsters so ah wouldn't be expectin' ta be full ah eager traders fer a time. Not when Neverwinter still havin' fight de Luskan and all dem pirates from dem islands. Nary that ah'll complain laddie, gotta say ah've made more trade over that der winter ta last me and de family out fer the next few years"
"Well for some it seems" Roland replied another chuckle "...though not gonna spend it all on a grand adventure, with drow and orcs and mad wizards"
"Nary a chance laddie, ah'm happily married dwarf these days! Me Ceryn shave off me beard if ah up and left on sum mad notion like that...an' ta be truthfully ah nay wanna be leavin' the forge till me Gunnar an' Bram be a bit older an' can work it as ah do. That Battlehammer fella might be a King in his mind, an' of few others, but ain't me King laddie an' ah don't love dat lot in Mirbar enough to go off an' die fer'em"
"Oh, no argument here Krom my friend, I'll be keeping the peace and escorting to see those orcs, but you won't find me amongst those storming the barricades to slay Utties and ghouls up north of here..." he replied pushing himself back up to stand straight "...now, no other troubles you need help with afore I head onwards"
"Nary a one laddie, thank the Gods. If ye could just deliver that and we'll be grand"
"No worries then Krom, I'll deliver them and if any news comes your way let me know. Have a good day my friend"
"An' ta ye as well laddie"
Roland had found Krom a good man to help keep all the foreign dwarves under control over the cold hard winter season. All they wanted to do was eat, drink, sleep, and fight it seemed to him, and Krom and the other village dwarves had done their best with the Dwarf King and his companions to ensure all that fighting at least stayed out of the village. That and avoiding trouble with the Harpells and their guests; more importantly the two orcs with the ponsy accents playing at wizard under the utterly terrifying Malchor Harpell; it had felt like every ten-day had seen fit to thrown another stranger into the village to told this very forcefully. Not after the Harkle Dwarf-into-Goat spell that had require several hours of seeking out the Mage-Lord and his brother to prevent a confrontation.
Waving at villagers as he passed, along with a few of the trapped traders who'd largely turned into villagers by now, he relaxed a little before heading up to the Manor. Today he'd meet with the Mage-Lord as he made plans with the Dwarves and 'leaders' of the 'brave adventurers' over meeting with the Horde of Mad Orcs who they were allying with. Roland sighed; what was the world coming too? Orcs and Dwarves, technically, on the same side as they went off to fight humans and Uthgardht. Like every day since coming to Longsaddle he reminded himself the Gods had a weird sense of humour...
--
When: Early Spring, 1357 Dale Reckoning
Where: Village of Zahgorim's Conquest
Met up with the whole family, and Zah with his, as we marched southward to the first of the two human villages, and then the meeting area beyond. It's good to see the children again, for a little while at least as I go about final preparations for the march, and spend time with Oggy and the others before heading off to war in the wilderness. Thrusting all responsibilities upon her and the others, and Zah upon Chieftess Breyza, really while we march away; and I'm to take the Six Gods-slaves with us as well, time to make use of our ritual 'helpers' it seems. Lua is whinging about not going, but she wants to play Head of the Adventurers Guild and Lara is best not let within distance of Darth Pharghk without risking the girls barely returned sanity. That would be problematic when I've got Qilue Veladorn and her small band to deal with as my 'guests' [allies?] during the discussions to come.
Missy I've put in charge of our new 'librarian'/'guest'/'servant' Tsuruhoki, whose remained behind in the tower due her whole inability to wear clothes thing obviously. Though Missy's pregnancy is advancing and I've tried to ensure Oggy doesn't do anything negative to the displaced woman, and keeps an eye on the other that have been dumped here from Dino-Jungleland and Toril's version of East Asia. Though the maztican trio at least have 'jobs' with Lua's Guild, and are 'relearning' to hunt in the hills around the valley with two villagers from this here village apparently. The others, well, the former noblewoman is now the proud, mildly horrified yet relieved judging from looks, second wife of our mercenary Captain Krowluc along with a first [orcish] wife from old Taugh's family. Lot of that, solidifying positions, going on in the ranks over the winter in general I've found.
Zah's off with his household, bedding Holawyn most likely in truth, and he's bringing her and Sylfine with him on campaign. The first isn't a bad choice as she is a healer and will work with Rose towards keeping up moral amongst the levies from her village; Sylfine, well, less so but the half-elven woman seems to have largely decided she's largely stuck as a 'royal concubine' or such thanks to the orcish tattoos on her face and body declaring that. Possibly because Zah likes showing off his wealth and power and has given her some latitude and revelry within that role, especially after giving birth to a child for him thanks to the will of the Gods. Oggy's plastered the half-elf with more sigils in an effort to repeat that I think, as Breyza and Zah are...well, Breyza and Zah so Holaywn got the same treatment. Though I'm fairly sure the elf won't work that way with a full blooded elf female and full blooded orc male.
Anyway, that aside, the main purposes of arriving here have been completed; levies are raised, blessings of the fields completed, and some basic fortification and roadwork has been completed. Getting it down to a decent routine and with the others here the speed and split-effort allowed some time to go through some work with the village blacksmith for the wagons transporting some of Magic Bells. I'm taking two with us, and the others behind, for use in ritual-work or resisting demon/unholy creatures; or disrupting certain higher level magic if feasible. Sure we're the magically weaker party, but that doesn't we don't have some options however bad they might be, or useless at times. Now that we're going all out against a city-state we need everything we scrap together to fight with, short of fatally weakening our stronghold's defences and risking rebellion against our rule in the valley.
So, soon to move unto Zybelin's Drift, too Rose's delight, and then it'll be time to move ever onwards to unite with the Moonblades, and then the Red Axes and Phargk's clan afterwards. In preparation for that, outside the army preparations, has been to ready my own travel bag of tricks to bring with me; I shall call it my magic murder bag. Primarily its spells prepared into scrolls, by Missy for me as their above my level so to speak, for my use along with a number of potions and a few rings, amulets, I've managed to create over the past three or so years. In conjunction with the enchantments on my armour, and weapons; it's the ever present battle to try by magic world Batman and think of having everything one needs for a given situation. I'll be doing the same with Rose in her village, though her gear is already pretty good and should hopefully involve only expanding or upgrading parts of it. Fun time, but now must go.
Slan go foil a chardaí.
--
When: Early Spring, 1357 Dale Reckoning
Where: Village of Zybelin's Drift
Another day, another ritual, another feast; though I won't complain of the last as it was a nice distraction before we get on the road. Keeps the human villagers happy, as it does my own clans warriors and the other levies in all honesty; and it gives my household and Zah's time to look impressive and be visible and all that jazz. Getting a bit feudal now that we have sons and daughters I'll admit; laying the groundwork for a succession that doesn't involve mass bloodshed upon our deaths. Or, really, at the very least selective bloodshed anyway as conflict over succession always happens, orcs being orcs and ambition being ambition. A little selfish as I want my family to live, but stability and continuation of the current system are a pragmatic choice for some level of Good being maintained.
Sorry, I'm just being maudlin as it's been a long tiring day and I'm as yet waiting for the actual feasting to begin as bonfires are being lit by the villagers under Wifne Humbletree. That and we're off after it ends, or more-so in the evening of the day after it ends and we've recovered and rested from it. Then it's fun times in the hills, sleeping out in the rough once again while enemies try to kill me even as I have to watch for being backstabbed by my allies. Though the Six Sisters are very much looking forward to their journey, and inflicted horrible, terrible, deeds upon Luskans apparently;- creepy out their blood-lust when mixed with the happy innocent smiles on their faces. Then again the six can pretty creepy at times anyways so why should I be surprised when it comes to them wanting to gleefully slaughter enemies?
On other creepiness; good form Qilue Veladorn, mixed with her being curious of things. Not directly of matters such as our magic tanks, the Hwacha, and my general Red Branch Knights running enforcement, but of society and questions over magic and plans. Nothing on my two new guests Shandy and Tana thankfully, orc ladies extraordinaire, as they vanished into the general muddle of new recruits; which is one happy positive for me really. No, seems our super-tall Drow Chosen has been curious of the valley's setup, and how her 'new village' will interact with it and our 'slavery problem' as she put it. I'm not sure if that's what's making her happy or is there something waiting down the line when we meet the Harpells. Hey its Drow! She could have gotten news Drizzt will definitely be there and she and her priestesses plan to tie to a bed or something!
Ah, now I must go, Tris has decided she wants my company, or more accurately Lua is off with her High Priestess and Tris is bored, so time to finish my scribbles it seems. Feasting time, so me and drunken writing is best avoided I find...
--
When: Early Spring, 1357 DR
Where: Crumbling watchtower, South-East of Sparta, Crags-North-edge Neverwinter woods
Decent ground here after a few a days march, hilly, wooded, and defensible with a good line of sight from where our water source is. Red Axes are shadowing us, maybe a day behind and have agreed this is a good spot to setup camp. Zah picked it, and it's on the route from Longsaddle to ourselves so it's a useful meeting spot to hold our 'Great Council' or whatever we'll call it.
More importantly it allows us a whole day to fortifying this place before our allies arrive, as the Moonblades are two days distant having waited for Obould and a few minor vassals to arrive, and Old Pharghk is moving even slower. Old age catching up with him I'd say, but really it's the joys of power and making us wait while we prepare a camp 'worthy of his presence' basically. Powerful and dangerous old codgers get that ability I've been told.
Going to consecrate the ground here while the camp is being established and fortified since I've got the Six Sisters and want to keep my acolytes ready and active. Preparation time is always good, and our meeting is some days away at best; there's good game in the area, and a good water supply, so we can afford the delay without having draw much from our home strongholds.
Plus there are plenty of trees to work with, and vines too, so we'll dig and entrench here on what was probably a village a hundred, or maybe few hundreds of, years ago judging by the ruined tower and outlines of buildings long overgrown. On general 'recruitment' we've picked up several hundred 'auxiliaries' in the shape of some gnoll, bugbear, and non-allied goblin 'adventurers' [mercenaries] over the march here.
They've joined the 'allied adventurers' part of the camp, along with the 'camp followers' [whores mostly, but a few wannabe traders kobold, goblin mostly with a human woman as well] so I'm glad I had that group put into some measure of order and discipline. Fights occur of course, but nothing serious and my Red Branch Knights and Acolytes will have a tight rein once the camp is full established. It's just the nature of tribal and feudal level army camps and my clans warriors discipline is leagues above several human ones according to a certain drowish woman.
Right, anyway, have to go; Rituals to perform.
--
When: A cold snowy spring day, 1357 Dale Reckoning
Where: Fortified Campsite, the Crags
Kurnak's arrived, and Moonblades and Sky Pony are mere hours away, and seemingly brought the winter back with them. I jest but it's gone bloody cold again and the snows have come down, thankfully only lightly, on our merry little army's camp. Nature of the Crags and Neverwinter Woods...the North and Savage Frontier in general really...that such weather changes aren't uncommon, so glad we camped here and not back in the valley's of the Crags in case it gets worse.
Back to daily dangers; Kurnak's arrived and is his usual wonderful self. Thankfully though he's all behind the idea of 'saving' Mirabar and then extorting loot out of them and its allies before marching on Luskan;- or at least that's how I've sold it to him and his allies. Now it'll depend on how the Harpells and Grumpy dwarf king manage to sell it themselves to use orcs as a whole, though Kurnak seems unbothered by fighting with dwarves thing beyond not having them near him or his.
My lot are more use to it Crue the Angry Murder Dwarf being a well known fixture of Sparta thanks to Doctor Ned, who is also present and selling 'services' of magical 'fixing' to our erstwhile allies when he's bored. That or he's just looking for more coin or to get certain Red Axe warriors into his debts; which is possible considering the man currently clad as an orc super-wizard. Long as he continues his training of myself, and help with scroll creation, I'm perfectly fine by that as we badly need a powerful wizard like him amongst the ranks basically.
Rose is with me right now, tired after her duties for the day, talking and writing being only possible thanks to you oh magic pen. Best investment and invention ever. Seems few broken bones needed healing, and her apprentices are useless and fast asleep right now back in the their tent. Not surprise, tiring nights and days these have been and it hits you when you stop and rest a moment I find unless you use a potion to extend that crash time out a bit. Seems she likes Tana, Alusair being a drill sergeant of sorts since we've left with the cluster of idiots, while I've been meaning to sit down with Shandy for a little bit and talk about a few things. Notably ritual work and the Gods-slaves; practice now before trying it in a fight basically...
Yeah, gotta go, sleepy here says I'm overdoing things and need to rest. Bye.
--
When: Day 1 of our Council of War [1357 Dale Reckoning]
Where; Fortified Camp, Southern Crags / Edge of the Neverwinter Woods
Seems the majority of our mighty horde has drifted in under our Gloriously Terrifying Emperor and High Priest Phargk and his clan of night hunters. Least all of the important clans of our alliance are here; what's left are stragglers, minor vassals, or just plain adventurous mercenary types that tend to get attracted to nascent orcish hordes seeking plunder. Or non-orcs, like goblins traditionally, press-ganged into service to make up numbers or serve as skirmishers – though not on the level we've hammered into our vassals of course. Cannon fodder is what best describes large chunks of the outermost camp in my opinion, but that's perfectly fine in its own horrible way.
Oh, and more importantly the fights have arrived; big bloody grudge settling our various clans come together and individuals decide to kill/fight/trade with others they haven't seen in ages. It's always hardest as things try to get organised, enclosed spaces and orcs not good let's say, and thankfully we're already pretty well entrenched and discipline in our area. Organised chaos is a good description of the rest of our 'Legion' but it's coming together and myself and the creepy fucker Mirrinock have already begun forming the 'Police Force' to violently murder anyone who steps out of line. In the Emperors name of course, but from my point of view to avoid bigger issues when we have angry Dorfs all around us and we've a city to not-pillage.
Long story of day made short; I've concentrated my day on that, after a Long, Long, talk/training session with our army leader, and then with Zah ensuring our defences are set come betrayal/surprise-enemy attacks. Really, he's our Army Commander and I'm the Military Police and Logistics, and that suits me just fine. Most of the trouble is with Obould's lot; ie the Uthgardht we all hate and who are here because he's got their women and children as hostages to ensure they fulfil their oaths. Oh, and a decent sized contingent of heavily armoured orc clan-warriors of his that's part officer-corp and part really large bodyguard. Still, letting a little blood flow till various groups are finished testing each other is what's going to end up happening; it's violence reduction rather than stopping it entirely with the 'dark races' of the world in camp like this.
--
When: Council Day 2 [Evening]
Where; Illuskan War Camp
Oh for fuck sake. It's bad enough trying to control these idiots without the Drow mucking about. Sure I understand why she did it, I do it all the fucking time after all, but that don't make it anymore not-annoying than it is. For a civilized lady Veladorn does know how to play the Game of Threats of Painful Death with some of the dumbasses wandering in.
Phargk thinks it's funny, and it is, sorta, but I'd have rather kept the Drow away from things and in our camp without the Chosen of Two Bloody Goddesses deciding to lay down the law to a bunch of no-name idiots from some no-name puissant clan looking to shag one of her lot. Or something to that effect; but it's pretty clear to me they set that up so one of hers would be in that position, and thereby allow her challenge, so that's that. Fun times.
Other than that – General Consensus, after lots of shouting, drinking, threats, more drinking, and eating is that crushing the Uthgardt around Mirabar, and the Luskans too, is a good thing. Even better if we're getting paid to burn/fight/kill really; the dwarves and Harpells with us, less so - but not so major a problem amongst the clans that matter, ie. Mine, Phargks, Jernaks, and Kurnak's.
Obould is in agreement, though that's more a general plan to grab wives and loot from the other Uthgardt clans well be facing to firm up his position. Scary bastard that, stories are right about him being smarter than your average warlord in managing to pull off what he's pull off over the winter. Sure they're not much of a force, and reliability I'd reckon ain't gonna be great, but they'll fight dominance fights for him here and now in the camp for him.
Scouts and Hunters are deployed in force; good game in the area, as well as food to be foraged despite early spring feck all to eat syndrome. Hence why I encamped my lot atop one of the water supplies, and have the auxlia erecting a wooden watchtower or two on the overlooks in case of angry [large] wildlife, or crazy forest elves out for blood.
--
When: Council Day 4 [Moon is bright in the Sky!]
Where; Illuskan War Camp
Phargk is a monster, and perhaps sadly one I'm learning from as little actual meetings went on the past two days and nights as war-chiefs jostled for dominance and/or fought to get various commanders of warriors to those they want in charge. Or not being in charge in many cases, but that's largely outside our lot and I'm letting Zah fight the good fight there for us while I focus on the religious side.
So, yeah, lessons from the Evil Cleric; including a 'practical one' in regards how to brutalise a rage drunk idiot who pissed off the wrong orc let me tell you. Certainly all the screaming indicated he did, and his buddies, regretted it all very much at the end. Object lessons are sadly a necessity to maintain control, and some idiots have never met me, or the other leaders of Illusk till now...or Phargk in this case. Unlucky for them basically.
So far I've avoided any more Drow or Auxlia incidents at least, so yay that I guess. Rose is doing well too, have her largely running the Auxlia part of the camp for me, and general aide-de-camp stuff. Shandril is also around, but I've had little time to teach, beyond a brief talk now which is why I mention her, and she's not an 'assistant' to Rose because – reasons, and Rose wanted the help. Anyway, gotta go, more magic lessons to learn in my brief free time; this time from Ned.
--
When: Council Day 7
Where; Illuskan War Camp
Boss above but this is a tiring job, bloody too, as there's been a few killings that needed happening to solve disputes between groups. Overall we've got a general consensus that we'll move against the Uthgardters soon, Longsaddle 'delegation' on the way. Notified by the very wise way of sending a familiar and ensuring they damn well knew they were going to be approaching our camp and want to talk. Ain't that grand?
One can thank Qilue Veladorn for that really, she be communicating with them of course. I'd go 'rawwr rawwr spy in camp rawr' bar the fact I'm well aware the camp is full of spies; spies for all our internal enemies within our alliance after all. Zah's out on a ranging; not raiding per se, but there's bandits or whatever nearby that he and Jernak wanted to hunt down, along with hunting for game.
Not that I'm all behind that idea, but he's got a large escort and I'm given him several acolytes who can heal worth a damn just in case anything arises. I blame it on the other chiefs, everyone wants their like hunt or 'scouting in force' to keep busy as we wait on others.
Hasn't even been a bloody ten-day! I blame the being cooped up for winter excuse for it!
Anyway, arrival of some fresh supplies [beer, mostly beer] from our valley and the Moonblades stronghold arrived earlier on, so that's gone down well alongside the whining, not so much after a few days of object lessons mind, about harsh discipline amongst the ranks. In part it's why we camped here so the option was there to keep supplied, and the caravan was also another hundred odd warriors [mix clan, mercenaries, adventurers, and a few auxlia] Ghorza had hammered together and sent on a day or so after we left. Whatever, I'll slot in the line somewhere after I get through another teaching-planning session with Phargk.
--
When: Council Day 11
Where; Illuskan War Camp
Zah's back, whole lotta nothing basically, but they did hunt down a number of boars and rabbits so not exactly a wasted trip I guess. More meetings of our War Council, more shouting and threats; or more so me glaring darkly till idiots shut up or get stabbed for being stupid. I've had two damned fights, and Rose ended up in an impromptu one that resulted in me having to remind certain people to not cause shit with my people. Since their dead now they won't be a problem, the lesson was learned I think and Rose and my minions are fine, so alls well that ends well I guess.
Bright side; training has been underway. Quasi-competitive, but it's there, and problems aside, this place functions like an army camp should however crude that might be in my view. Kind of important when there is a bunch of humans and dwarves and others on the way here to meet with us when they have their own well armed guards and dangerous magic. Doing a big ritual tomorrow though, Blessings of the Horde yadda-yadda, with all the other clan priests under Phargk and making use of the Gods-slaves; so may go now and prep for that big bag of sunshine awaiting me tomorrow night.
That and the Longsaddle delegation/really large and well armed caravan is about two days away according to scouts. Fun times, fun times indeed. Slán.
--
[Interlude 18]
--
[Chief of the Bloody Axe]
Smoking was a relief at times he found, sitting idly on the large rock and considering matters unfolding before his eyes. One useful, of many, things learned by watching and listening to ones foes he'd found as he savoured the smoke before letting it out in a soft ring. Pleasant, and after some experimenting a rather useful way to blind an enemy with only the smallest amount of smoke powder and a simple charm on his amulet to create flame from smoke.
Kurnak smiled softly; that had amused when that big stupid oaf who'd called himself had come for him and been rather...surprised, judging by the look on his corpse, to find his weakling brothers whelp more deadly than expected. He didn't even turn as he heard the boot thumps coming towards him, the familiar sound and glance from his nearby warriors telling him who it was even without looking; better to focus on the current dangers lurking out in front of them right now than one whose removal would do more harm than good. Had to be practical about such things in the end or you could lose more than you tried to gain.
"So?"
"Big force dem short bastards comin' up behind the caravan an' its riders as ye said Chief..." his older brother Vornik rumbled in that eternal half-growl of his he stomped his way beside and into view "...they's settin' up camp past de streams yonder in de thick woods. De old shaman an' his Night Tombs sent word we're te all assemble wift'em ta meet"
Kurnak nodded taking another puff, then releasing the smoke rings in a long slow puff; seemed the games were about to begin at long last "Of course, time to the bearded folks whose city they'll be paying us to save by slaughtering our enemies"
Vornik made a face at that, foolish as ever it seemed "Fuckin' dwarves, should be fuckin' burnin' the place down an' takin it fer our own stronghold!"
His people...most people regardless of race really he'd found...were just so...impractical about such things in the end. Sure, it was possible that such a situation would occur at the end of this, but it best not to openly state such things coming into a negotiation he'd found. Letting hate guide your actions, as his brother oft did along with the other danger to the mind [anger, generally let to less than ideal outcomes for your plans.
For one the dwarf city was likely badly ruined already beyond the deep mines and inner sanctums; already looted by the Uthgardt and humans from Luskan. Why waste effort trying to force those areas full of the useless or fanatical defenders when the camps of the besiegers would already be full of already assembled loot and camp followers to be enslaved with little trouble?
Sometimes the wind blew one way, and now it blew another instead. Best to move with the wind than get blown over in the storm he'd found "Now brother, little use in a stronghold burned and twice, or thrice, fought over when a rich plum is before us. One our foolish foes would help us fight and bleed for, rather than fight and bleed in opposition to us either...best wait till after the deed is done and events are better understood before making sure big decisions. Send a runner back that I am coming, and make sure none of our warriors cause trouble unless ordered to do so"
Perhaps things would change during the fighting after all? Or they could find the city already fallen and its populace enslaved and being carted off elsewhere?
One could not know exactly what the future held till it occurred and choices had to be made. Why start a fight now when these humans and dwarves and other folks could do some dying for them in the meantime, and there was nothing yet to gain?
Vornik grumbled, but did as demanded as usual; a trait that had kept him alive despite his often expressed idiocy over the years. It was always best not to be wasteful of such, and at the very least he was a useful fist smash heads for him when he wanted to keep foes alive, or just killed brutally, compared to his own fighting less direct fighting style. That and help in throwing out a few future warriors, or potential chief or shaman, from the females he bedded; ties of blood were surer than with others within the clan not of his blood. Family at the least could be trusted to united against those not of the family after all. Motioning at the nearby guard, Gornug his cousin, he stood up, tapping the pipe his hand thoughtfully, and walked back towards his tent to prepare for the coming meeting.
Around him the camp was calm, army of potential foes on the horizon causing heightened wariness or not approaching, beyond the usual grumbles and shouts over foolish and petty things amongst his clan members. Beyond he noted the increased guard by the Spartans and Moonblades in their camps within the great horde camp; irritating to have let them seize the high ground, but nothing to do about that now he supposed. Watching and listening how their camps worked and were organised helped as ever though, so there was always lessons to be learned despite that error of lateness.
Pushing aside the tarp of the opening of the large hut he'd established for himself, his second wife, and two slaves, he step inside and strode to where the one he wished to speak to quickly moved to cower as his mate glanced up at him in the smokey gloom of the tent. He motioned at her silently, fingers moving as she bowed to him and left silently, as he moved to 'discuss' the nature of these dwarves and humans with the former would be adventurer. Third time lucky it seemed with this one; the first, a male human, had be largely uncontrollable without killing, while the second, a female halfling, too defiant yet fragile to understand the role.
Watching the Spartans, and listening to their ramblings, though had given him ideas on how to fix such problems and this one was shaping up after taking her from the less gentle members of the clan. Having her earn the 'right' to kill her first owner had been useful in that, as well as removing another idiot troublemaker, and some minor 'privileges' mixed with harsh discipline by his wives had allowed him to get this one tell all she knew of human clan dealings and enemies alongside her, rather weak admittedly, healing magic...
--
[King beneath the Mountain]
He ignored the smell despite the irritation at dirty damned greenskins actually not smelling as bad as Thimbledorf Pwent did from time to time. All he could hope was the sight, and smell, of less smelly greenskins would cause his comrade and dwarf in charge of the Gutbusters to change his position on the 'deadly dangerous abomination called bathing' and take a more...pleasant option. At least from everyone else's point of view anyway as Pwent didn't seem to care over much since his sense of smell had died a long time ago alongside his sense of fear, and his common sense.
"Lot of them over there ain't there..." his young Catti-Brie grumbled beside him arms followed across her chest as she gazed out over the little 'platform' within the forest and across the more 'open' ground between them and the orc horde distant "...and where's Drizzt?"
Bruenor snorted "Restin' he says, though hidin' be more likely with yon tall, scandalous, an' scary drow lady sniffin' about fer him"
Thimbledorf gave his own snort, probably rolling his eyes as he did so "Elves!"
Bruenor nodded "Aye, Elves, what dwarf canna understand'em"
"Well good for him ah say..." his adopted daughter muttered "...women of his race are mad ah say, wrong in the head, an best he stay away from them"
"Uh-huh" he replied with a sigh, bad enough he had to deal with insane drow females and equally insane orcs pretending to be civilized than his adoptive daughter trying to prove she was the prettiest flower amongst the crazy ladies who though naked dancing and actively chasing a man down was not helping. Oh Wulfgar thought it was fantastic, and hadn't turned down Cavatina's offer of a roll under the furs, but that just made everything so much worse in his group. Best get away from that particular thorn in his foot for the moment.
"...Nay show anger at that tall one, mad er nought, she be powerful an' friendly with dem wizards an' dem there orcs we need ta stop some arrows fer us"
Twas more than that of course, even assembling hundreds of dwarves and a few hundred other humans and other races who'd allied with them there was a whole lot more savages besieging Mirabar; and what was worse he'd need to return with such a force to truly clear, and hold, Mithril Hall. Damned if it felt wrong to be allying, not even just making a truce for a time, with bloody orcs...ones that were shaping up far too organised for his people's liking really. Not only that, but their thralls were reasonably well equipped for once and the orcs were actually willing to fighting in a disciplined manner in a more than a few cases. Soon the Crags would be securely theirs he could tell, and wouldn't that be hard for his brethren in a freed Mirabar to deal with?
'Could be worse ah suppose, could be a bunch of howling savages rather than savages pretendin theys normal folks an where'd we be then?' he mused to himself shoving the helmet unto his help as the mad wizards of Longsaddle approached along with the heads of the two larger clan contingents than arrived and two or three humans, one even from far off Nésme drawn with promises of wealth into giving aid. Bruenor snort tiredly at that; all the vultures were circling it seemed at weakness. Not that he could blame them...he would have words with the Council of Sparkling Stones about men and women of no-obvious background attempting to murder him and his companions as they slept. But that was for the future, and now he had mad wizards, insane orcs, and damned dark elves, to deal with...
--
Prelude to the Deluge: The Forgotten War in the Crags
Authored by Tarfinri Agosil, Scholar of Candlekeep
...and so it was that this great betrayal would bring about the Summer of Blood as the River Mirar and Forgotten War would blend into the bitter and foolish Great Northern War as great hordes of savages would emerge from mountains, seas, and plains against weakened city-states. It is difficult to ascertain, the recollections of many, non-human, participants of these events being suspect in their absolving themselves of guilt for what was to occur in the wake of their actions.
What is known as truthful and accurate is that the War in the Crags had now truly ended, and dread legions of Illusk and their first Holy Emperor had shattered all possible challengers within their savage domain, and now sought to expand like all the other circling carrion birds. From the cold and cruel Northern Mountains of the Spine, from the savage open plains, the moors too, of damned East, and the raging waters of the Western Seas they would come even as Crags disgorged the forces their dark new masters to march alongside dwarves and men who sought to place their own puppets upon the battered northern lands.
Blind to the true danger the city-states of the savage north had ignored the War in the Crags and now the tide would crash down upon them and see the rivers run crimson with spilled blood as savage war, waged by merciless savages one must note, was brought upon civilized lands in the Summer of Blood. Too many historians see this sudden brutal year as a surprise, rather than a continuation of the War occurring side by side with the Great Northern War; a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky that left destruction and carnage in its wake...
--
[Karguk 72]
Edge of the Crags and Neverwinter Woods
It was certainly colourful I had to admit as I strode into the 'meeting circle' crudely outlined by large rocks and cut down trees to form a large open tent, rain pattering off the hide 'roof' above me. Damp banners and flags hung limply from the various 'corners' of the stands and centre, where a large tall tree formed the middle of the tent circle, as beyond two armed camps watched each warily just as we within the tent did of each other. It wasn't surprising really with so many groups who at best disliked each other, or hated each other outright, mixed with both forces being rather loose coalitions as best I could tell. Thankfully we had mutual hatred of somebody else, and greed too of course, to encourage us all to cooperate for mutual benefit; the common way enemies became quasi-allies sadly.
All of us armoured and armed of course; though what constituted that varied due to the Harpell's going for the whole traditional 'Gandalf' wizard look but likely being better armoured by magic than your average heavy troopers. Even our resident Drow and her escort looked properly war-like in their armour, none of the shininess or gauzy additions; this was the Chosen of Two Goddesses standing strong and imposing in battle readiness as if daring a challenge to her power. Even her guard looked small compared to her, though my mind was potion-focused immune to such things unlike uneasy glance from a dwarf and one or two of the orcs present.
It was a good tack to take I found coming to stand just to the right of the Old Bastard who was our new Emperor, careful to keep my eyes moving and ears listening for danger; from any corner, orcs included as I pulled my damp cloak off my head. Other eyes studied my blood red armour a moment, the mashed together suits of elven mail over padded gambeson being...better equipment than one normally saw on orcs out here in the wilds really. Though honestly I'd have preferred to have my helmet and shield with me, but that was too constricting and hardly scream the trust needed to engage in such a 'Council' as this.
Or parley perhaps would be the better term I mused silently as hushed mutterings continued around me without more than cold looks and wariness truly taking place between our groups. Still, I remained silent as the rest of our 'company' arrived and took up their places in a crude semi-circle with our Holy Emperor at the centre; matching the equally rough one formed around Malchor Harpell and the heavy armour covered King of Mithril Hall. Though only technically so at the moment really; sure he'd killed the dragon that had laired there, but actually restoring a ruin and filling it with people would take some time...and he'd have Drow to face soon enough anyway. Reading up on things with the Tome of Wiki helped, even if events were rapidly going off the rails from what I 'thought/knew' was going to happen.
"So, humans, dwarves, to war we march now yes?" our glorious leader eventually rasped, his common was much better than he let on in my experience; that and his various forms of elvish languages and minor regional dialects. That certainly had been a surprise, but it shouldn't have been since medieval and iron-age type societies tended to have big variations in languages...and Darth Phargk had spent many, many, many, years brutally torturing information out of Drow prisoners. Whose language it helped to know if one want more than just torturing them for shits-and-giggles...and our Dark Emperor was at least practical in his Evilness I'd found thankfully enough.
'All BS talk basically, yar, yar, I big scary orc shaman...I powerful wizard better not betray me...dwarf growl' I thought to myself finding my truth magic spell absolutely useless once again in relation to my Dread Master, and with the various other magically inclined folks such as Veladorn and the Harpells too of course. For now job was to remain silent as our dark leader spoke to their coalitions dreadfully powerful, and potentially mad in certain ways as they were negotiating with orcs, leader of theirs. My work had been laid out in the months since this proposal came to light, and the best outcome came from it seeming the idea of others rather than myself; - give them what they want, or at least what I made them think they wanted, and now convince them it was all their own idea from the start.
"...and the city and lands of Luskan will be ours for doing thissss" came out eventually, ending an almost hiss from our leader. Earning a snort, and faint sneer, from good old Bruenor in exchange both hands still resting on the hilt of his battle axe; just a shake of the head, handful of guards ever wary along side our fellow orc clan 'representatives'
"Ye' hafta take it first orc, an' thats after ye face down yon horde an' undead about Mirbar. Ah say fine, if ye canna take it, then ye can have de blasted city...not that' ah much faith in ye managin' to kick out the current lot from there. Bag ah' bones with filthy evil magic that they are"
Well, seemed it was my time to open my mouth, hand remain carefully still atop the hilt of sword as it had so far throughout our little parlay. Darth Phargk sneer back, but remained silent, and it best to head off any chance of disrespect against him that might blow up our merry little meeting "Aye Lord Dwarf, but part of the price for our help here is for the wizards standing beside ye to deal with said evil magic skeletons magic while we orcs trash the pathetic excuses that lot call warriors is what the Emperor means. As it oft seems that such agreements are subject to change when we orcs have fulfilled our side of such bargains as those who hath fought as mercenaries for the so-called civilized races would agree"
"Ai, one agrees..." Chief Jernak of the Moonblades rumbled from beside me as the dwarven lord glared back, and the Harpell's merrily gazed back serenely at us "...words are winds with humans whens we kills those theys wants ands thens time comes payings"
"There shall not be any such issue raised with these human wizards I can promise young Chieftain..." Malchor Harpell stated back calmly, and harshly perhaps, but the man seemed generally harsh and stern in tone in general so it wasn't over much of a surprise really considering the circumstances "...as our goals do align in the first case one might say in dealing with the machinations of the Host Tower..."
'And us orcs being less dangerous as spell-casting pirates and slavers than the Luskanites who are currently helping raid the hells out of the holdings of Neverwinter' I thought maintaining a cold, calm, expression on my face as he continued talking.
"...and in the second, as most folk of the cities are wont to tell us when they bar our family entry through their walls; we are not your average wizard. Our aid will be granted, should the shaman there continue to allow my kin entry to such a city, and his clan's stronghold, as long as we continue to come in peace"
I glanced at Darth Old Bastard, nodding, and then back at his human less-evil equivalent "Of course, hath we done anything to doubt such? Even thine trade caravan hath journeyed on to our valley as we now speak"
The truth was...having the Harpells was hardly a great deal for us, but it was vital to have as many contingencies as possible for facing down our foes at Mirabar, and potentially beyond. It wasn't entirely likely we'd end up marching on Luskan after Mirabar; unlikely even as once we'd taken losses, and received a great quantity of loot and potentially slaves, there would be great pressure to return home and call it a success by the various horde clans. Stopping Undead Liches raining death down upon us if we did move of course vital...even if we were trading having a whole bunch of Megumin's running about our lands in the future into the future; with all the OOPS! EXPLOSION! that followed in their wake...
I resisted a sigh as the discussion continued along that point with 'input' from the other clan leaders, Obould this time and 'his' clan of conquered Uthgardt, and allowing humans amongst them. Or in this case wizard who could train one or two future half-orcs I expect for when the time came for dear Obould to return home and challenge is dear old father. Or even just to ensure he lived a nice long life after he did that much earlier than he planned.
...but such was the nature of things sadly when I'd only influence over things rather than any true means of control. Kurnak was unknowable, Obould was plotting against other far off foes, and most of the minor clans were just in it for the loot opportunity. Or, for the vast majority of the younger warriors, for the opportunity to earn glory through battle...far too many of those really I thought as the negotiations continued around me between our Holy Emperor and the Dwarven King. I glanced over to where the two Drow stood isolated, and surprisingly to my view, silent so far on what exactly she [publicly at least] wanted from our happy little alliance...
--
[Nedorious Illian Kline 12]
Illuskan War-Camp, Edge of the Crags and Neverwinter Woods
'Hmm, something does not seem entirely right about you my dear' Nedorious found himself thinking, tapping his finger off his chin as the orc girl sashayed away alongside her armour clad sister. All rather strange that; seemed he had a natural born sorcerer, or just an idiot savant despite the girl being rather smart, on his hands thanks young Karguk's Deity sending his cleric the duo. Unsurprising really, both had pretty bad Common [another matter to teach!] in the way of most orcs, and young Shandy was...something he couldn't quite put his finger on really; also whatever it was would have to wait till after his debt books with the Host Tower had been balanced.
"Why ye lookin' at dem orc girls arses Boss?" his dear Cruenditha had to interrupt his speculation on magical lineage, and who'd likely bedded who to put an arcane, or some other magic heavy bloodline, into that particular branch of the orcish race "...feelin' lonely are ye? Seems bit young an' dopey ta me, if ah hava say, ta be yer type...ta be honest"
"Oh Crue dear, nothing so base, just something curious about our new trainees bloodline"
"Ya, ya, ya, dis orc way back ended up in de sack with a fey, or ah dragon, or one dem weird one from an'ther dee-men-sion, an' few tusk faced babbies later...magic orc babbie"
Nedorious hummed in thought a moment before turning around with a cheerful smile, clapping both of his currently orcish hands together "Ah, Crue, where would I be without your grand knowledge of the arcane and inter-species mating habits. Now, I do believe we are finished in our role for the evening and from the horns and drums I do believe our dear patron has returned from today's parlaying with the army of your fellow friendly height challenged folk"
"Aye, an' off we go ta save Mirbar an' all da greedy little miners there..." she grumbled as his tired looking slave, turned apprentice, Sydney came out of the tent wiping her hands off the front of her thick, dull, woolen robes. His other 'senior' bodyguard merely glanced at the girl as she passed, giving a nod of respect to each other thanks to a winter hammering the idea of simple etiquette and courtesy in the enslaved wannabe necromancer "...an' shur as shine ah' think we all a bit mad goin' off ta war. Oh, an' bit weird seein' the lot were fightin' beside"
"Price of doing business my dear, just like the old days...hmmm...save better pay off if we win this time I suppose..." he mused softly, almost to himself, before turning his gaze towards Sydney and Etlin "...Etlin my lad, it seems best that I head over to young Karguk and see if he is ready for his studies for a time. Because if not it's time for me to rest, and/or, drink. So I do believe I shall leave you and the two lovely ladies here to guard my things while myself, Crue, and the ever hardworking Sydney here, are absent a time"
"Righto Boss, keep snoopers out, eyes out for trouble" came back from the lean, lightly armoured but well armed former bounty hunter in a respectful tone. He and his two ladies had been resting most of the day while Crue and Sydney were on duty with Nedorious, and now they'd stand guard for the night shift when the camp tended come even more alive in some ways. Misty fog was slowly emerging, visible as night fell through the faint moonlight, and light drizzly rain that had caused Nedorious to pull on the nice feathered hat of his colourfully illuminated robes. Not too far away one of young Karg's ever present shadows followed along behind them as he lead his two employees away from the large tent he'd erected and up the slope out of the 'auxlia' part of the camp.
Thankfully this part of the 'Great Horde Camp' was rather well run, in part thanks to his glorious advice of course;- from the mixed area of humans, kobolds, goblins, and even a few gnolls where they were currently, through to the Spartan clan-warrior areas they walked towards. There were actual latrines for one, which was great, and constant movement of enforcers ensuring 'order' was maintained; as attested by the odd head on a pike or stake along with a wooden board proclaiming their crimes. Idiots from other orc clans, or the end of overly violent brawls, but it were good to see working alongside the standard floggings and bondage in impromptu stocks. Order was an important thing, along with Laws and maintaining them in Nedorious mind; nothing worse than oath-breakers and similar troublemakers in his book. He waved as he walked...
Or rather waved back, with a pleasant tusky smile, as he passed various clumps of soldiery as they played their dice games, cleaned or sharpened their weapons, or were getting put through some hardship these orcs liked to call training. Building up a good reputation amongst the rank and file certainly helped with dealing with minor troubles that it was best not to bother young Karg with considering his rather busy schedule of late. Bigger, sharper claws for the adventurous Miss Farpaw and he'd a steady supply of certain herbs, ground up animal bones, and blood when he had to compete with various orcish priests wanting stuff for rituals, or just to make their blood-beer drink. Not a bad investment as the blessings placed upon seemed to have the faintest magical properties...but still denying him tools of the trade these past few days, so unfortunate.
"Now, now, Sydney, happy smile, graceful in defeat. Don't show the enemy they'd gotten you down" he mused cheerfully to his slave as she glared daggers at a Drow woman standing, chatting to one of her fellows, at the healing tent they'd setup. It seemed lovely bookish Narcella had returned from her little journey to Longsaddle with young Harkle; a good sign perhaps of favourable circumstances, but also irritating to his slave-apprentice of course "...lessons to be learned instead"
"He loved me"
Nedorious gave an amused snort at her tone of complaint "Oh yes indeed, young and dumb and trusting, while also being a powerful wizard in the years to come...assuming he survives himself of course...and you rather effectively burnt that bridge my dear one must say. Now what's the lesson to be learned?"
"Don't...get caught?"
"Hmm...yes, that does help with short terms plans, but sadly less so with long term happy relationships between two equals. Especially with powerful, potentially emotionally unstable, wizards from a long line of arcanists known for 'accidently' creating small lakes via explosions and other such feats"
Cruenditha gave a snort that was almost a grunt, and he could almost feel the eye roll alongside it as her booted feet stomped along at the same pace as both of them, stubby legs and plate armour being no impediment to her usual "Not yer brightest moment' were it now lassie, wha' were thinkin' were gonna happen whens he figured it out"
Sydney hung her head, cheeks burning crimson "I...dunno, it'd be a mighty Mistress of the Host Tower by then, with undead legions? Or...he'd and all the others would just sort of...forget about everything?"
Nedorious nodded motioning at her with his staff as they walked past the impromptu fighting circle where they were setting up another nights round of fights it looked judging "And that's why I have you talk to young Karg, and our fine co-worker Etlin; one needs to teach you the benefits of long term planning, and interpersonal interactions beyond short term exploitation, especially among peers"
"Yes Master"
"Oh don't sound so whiny my dear Sydney, why if we're all successful you might even get to be a big boss amongst the burnt out shell of the Host Tower"
"We're all going to die if we challenge the Host-tower of the Arcane Master"
"Tut-tut! You won't get anywhere without some ambition Sydney, and this one is mine" he chuckled back "...and even not; why I've got this great office, a large client base, and great opportunities to achieve further material wealth...and valuable materials in the wake of a battle. See dear, no need for illegality and other underhanded measures!"
"Aye, Boss be right there. Be lots ah them bodies free an' clear after fightin' be over, fellas even pays us to move'em corpses into their graves" Cruenditha interjected, Nedorious nodding in agreement as they passed by the guards standing watch over the inner camp. Easy to feel too with the faint tingling feel of magic in the air where young Karg and his fellow priestly orcs had performed a consencration of some sort upon the land shortly after arriving. Thankfully he was just as well know amongst these orcs, as the ones down the slope, and soon the three were allowed stand patiently outside the 'chief tents' of the encampment as one of them went ahead and poked a head inside the Shaman's one.
"You are lucky, Chief Zahgorim just left and Shaman Karguk will want to speak to you and others..." the big burly orc in heavy armour began, before being interrupted by the other's head reappearing from the tent, a hand waving them towards it. Dear Cruenditha remained outside with the guards unsurprisingly enough as he ducked under the flap of the tent with Sydney just behind; he lovely murder dwarf issued no complaints, at least once a mug of ale was shoved into her hands anyway.
Young Karg sat cross legged across from the entrance, flame haired Rose beside him, while around him in a circle at the 'corners' of the tent the six creepy God-touched girls sat "Ah, Doctor Ned, good timing I suppose...come, sit, I've some matters to discuss and then we try fit in a lesson for myself and the girls. I'll have some food brought for us to eat, as it has been a rather taxing day all in all"
"Ah, very kind of you Lord Shaman, I trust all has progressed well in your talks with our visitors. I'm sure my dearest Crue would be eager to hear of our marching with her kinsfolk to war against their foes after all"
"Oh, well enough, I've had a long conversation with Emperor Phargk, and Lady Veladorn, and Zah...and others, so it is progressing one finds isn't that right Rose?"
"It seems to be so Papa from what you say" the red haired girl replied as Nedorious sat just across from them, Sydney doing likewise with a contented sigh. Happy to have some time away from work as usual;- and to be allowed study and discuss politics of a sort with the orc shaman slightly willing to indulge her should she be honest and upfront with him. It was useful for honing the edges down on the young necromancer, and her knowledge of the workings of the Host Tower were very useful to the orcs now that conflict was inevitable it seemed. All was going according to plan...
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