[3.5E] Heretic's Bane - Beyond the Dale

[Grodech]

Grathalmor turns his head to the right as if something else had caught his attention when Amathyst blows the kiss. Was that a tinge of red underneath the blue glow of his tattoo?

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak chuckles at Amethyst's comments. At his cousin's expression of boyish sheepishness, though, his chuckle turns to a full laugh. "Careful, cuz," Nalrak jokes, "that one's a high-caliber pistol. If you're looking to handle her, be prepared for the kick."

[mshady]

Getting Ready for the Party

Kal-resh waits in his room (or was it a cell?) outwardly in quiet, but internally in turmoil. Knowing that his comrades were coming to rescue him made solidified his feeling somewhat, and certainly keeping him cooped up here was not helping the orc’s case. Considering it had been at least 3 days like this, it was feeling a lot more like jail. Still, they brought him some very interesting food including some excellent roasted meat and vegetables, breads and most of it had seasoning he had never had before. He had hot food before, but some of it was so spicy it made him wince and left his tongue burning. The orc that mostly brought him the food was a younger orc woman who kept asking him if he wanted anything else after each meal. She was friendly enough and easy on the eyes. Kal was usually full from his meals, because while he was bored but well fed, and always said he was fine which frustrated the woman a bit. Apparently they were really trying to keep him well fed. The orc ales and wines he was occasionally brought were nowhere near dwarf quality, but they were extremely strong and hearty drinks, even if they tasted just slightly better than vinegar. The spirits they brought him were the worst of all, yet the small amounts gave him that warm, comfortable feeling followed by dizziness. Unlike the ales and wines, if he drank half a bottle of the spirits, it had a serious impact on him.

In the early evening of the third day, Kal-resh knew things were going on as they were getting ready. The normal camp smells were suddenly elevated, a frenzy of cooking and baking along with quite a bit of activity. Around the time for early dinner, there was a knock at the door and it opened to reveal the serving orc girl with the cute nose who always seemed so helpful. She presented a tray with a smaller portion of bread and other food, but also clay jars of paint and dragged in a bucket of water this time after dragging out the waste bucket. Just as she left, Prince Thronebreaker walked in. He was wearing polished mail and a stunning amount of rings and other jewelry this time, along a belt that appeared to be made from the vertebrae of some large creature. Even that looked stunning, as it was inlaid with gold. The fierce Prince smiled at Kal-resh as he walked in and actually embraced Kal before saying anything.

“I hope you’ve been able to bear your accommodations. It is with regret and need that I had to confine such a wild soul. We’ve treated you like a chicken in a coop instead of the great warrior that you are, Kal-Resh. Please, accept my apologies” he said, drew a knife and cut the palm of his hand enough so there was a thin line of blood from the wound. He shook Kal’s hand and looked him square in the eyes, leaving Kal’s own hand blood stained.

“If you had been raised an orc, you’d understand the sincerity of that gesture. Someone willing to shed blood for you is a gesture of atonement, of apology for a slight. Refusal to accept that apology means greater blood is demanded from the injured party, so you know. That’s usually to the death.

It is our way of things. It keeps everyone respectful of those who are stronger than them, and ultimately weeds out the weak and the rude. So never offend someone unless you can defend the offense” the Prince smiles, barring his teeth as he does, which is really just an amused smile.

“Which explains the delay in your joining of our Tribe. A few were very resistant to the idea and said things about it. I did not accept their apology. They’ll not be joining us for the feast” he pauses and looks at Kal, evaluating his reaction to the Prince claiming he just killed several other orcs on his behalf.

“Now that matter is settled, wash and apply the war paint in the way you wish to be known. I’ll return for you in an hour’s time at dusk, and the festivities shall begin. We can bring your armor and weapons to you before the feast. It is, after all, not a true celebration unless someone dies before the end and it’s awkward if it’s the honored guest!” he says, laughing heartily at that. “Any questions or boons you would like of me, ask me now and I will see to them while I am away”

[mshady]

A week trekking across the countryside at a forced march was exhausting in all the ways she hated. It was a wearying, constant drain that fatigued the leg muscles and back without any benefit of proper conditioning. The lack of relief from sweat, dirt and bugs was an annoyance as well. Coming across the ogres had almost been a nice distraction.

Back in civilization – or as close as musty, sooty dwarf halls get, always with the subtle hint of weapon oil and strong spirits – she’s free to exercise and practice her forms as she feels best. And she does with gusto, using in the same vast practice hall as Grathalmor and Magnum. But whereas her companions are weighed down with armor and weapons, delivering a steady and prolonged punishment against each other and focused particularly on a remarkably durable shield, Sabine’s workout is all about movement.

Wearing her light skirt and loose tunic, she whirls and twists, near effortlessly launches off the floor from one foot, spins twice midair and lands perfectly balanced on her other foot. A blunt iron rod stands in for a sword, and it instantly passes from one hand to the other, jabbing out to thump directly into the neck of a straw-filled dummy. She breathes evenly and reverses course, leaping into one-handed back handsprings, the rod moving to the other hand at the top of each arc. It never touches the ground. This was her sixth attack, and now that she’s warmed up she’s ready for more of a challenge.

Standing nearby are a pair of dwarf soldiers, waiting patiently but frowning into their beards. She’d dragooned them into helping her when they finished their own exercises. They had wanted to get on with their duties, but she tossed the name “Baron Thordrek” around until they were overcome by their dwarven honor. She nods to them and begins her next attack. The first soldier reluctantly begins chucking knives at her as the other moves into place to bar her path to the dummy with a heavy spear.

From the thrower’s lack of expertise she figures there’s little real danger of her being hit by a knife, but nevertheless desires the distracting attacks as she bobs and waves forward, ducking and dodging as she closes in. She bats one knife from the air and on the backswing her bar knocks a spear thrust into the stone floor. She twirls low under the follow-up and, stopping directly behind the soldier, corkscrews down to the ground, somehow balancing on the balls of her feet as the dwarf turns and halts another blow when he sees it would hit the dummy. In a heartbeat Sabine spins and rises, her free hand flashes out and guides the spear toward the dummy’s face while she tilts – one leg behind her into he dwarf’s face while her arm and sword extend directly into the dummy’s nonexistent heart.

She rises and nods, her breathing hardly changing as she turns smiles at her assistants. “Thank you, mates. A nice little workout. I wish we had more time, but there are castles to storm and all that.”

She returns to the small room she’d “requisitioned.” Not knowing how long this trip will take, she finds some hot water and enjoys a last quick bath. She combs and ties back her hair, then gazes into her small mirror and applies a bit of makeup subtly but strategically. Her concessions to vanity have grown since her visit to Waterdeep, and why shouldn't she look nice? She's no barbarian - or orc. She dons her enchanted armor and gear, fastens her heavy sword belt and rechecks everything piece by piece as she packs.

Satisfied, Sabine makes her way toward her companions, but hopes she has time for a private moment to speak with Valina before they leave.

Spoiler: Stuff?

Show

Aside – I was never given an answer about restocking potions and scrolls.

The two dwarfs looks at each other and grumble, annoyed at being so easily handled by the human woman.

"Ye have some fancy moves, don't none if ye can't beat the steel" one dwarf grumbles.
"Aye. Lets try this one again sometime, eh? With throwing axes or crossbows" he joins the grumble.

They both look at each, share a laugh and go off to find some ale.

[mshady]

OOC: The main group’s time is presently in sync with Kal-resh’s time, in case anyone was wondering. That probably won’t continue for too long, but it is right now.

Moving Out

The group gathers outside the Brightblade Halls, ready to head off to attack the fort. They each have a pony to ride towards the enemy stronghold. They were a far cry from riding griffons to swoop out of the sky, but they would at least get them there.

The exception to that was when Morna showed up, riding atop a monstrous, four legged reptile covered in thick scales and massive jaws that resembled a dragon more than anything else. The creature was barded with metal plates and it had a massive bone crest on top of its head. The helm it wore was shaped like a massive axe, a massive wedge of metal that would be ideal for charging enemy troops or, perhaps, breaking through enemy barricades or gates. The thing was 15 feet long and must have weighed thousands of pounds. It swung its massive head left and right, surveying the group and focused on Wyatt before taking a step in his direction. Morna yanked the reins on it, reins made of adamantine chain, and deterred the creature.

“By Moradin… she, that, how? That’s a bulette!” Buna exclaims, shocked by what she was seeing. The extremely aggressive creatures had jaws that snap an ingot of iron and burrowed through the ground, making them an enemy of many a dwarf. They were known to attack gnome and Halfling burrows though.

“Aye, it is. I heard there was some big, nasty orc so figured I’d bring a friend. Don’t worry Buna, they don’t eat dwarfs or elves often. Gnomes and Halfling though, he thinks are delicious” she says and looks over at Wyatt with an amused smile.

A few moments later, the Golden Company arrived. About twenty of them were riding barded war hoses and had the look of true knights. The other eighty or so were riding in wagons drawn by four teams of draft horses that belonged to some dwarf drovers.

A few minutes later, Valina and Johannes rode up on their own ponies. Valina exchanged a wave with Morna, but seemed unphased by the monster she was riding.
“Well I think that’s everyone. We have some engineering teams ready to come up behind us with a garrison to take over the place. It’s a day’s ride from here, aye? Let’s get moving” Morna tells everyone, before smiling at Thordrek. “On your order, of course”

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Not overly pleased about riding a pony, the gruff dwarven priest struggles to settle himself once he's finally seated. His gear, and indeed his outlook on life itself, are ill-suited for such transportation. But he prides himself on being able to adapt to any situation when needed, he just never bothers concealing his disgruntlement.

Upon seeing Morna arrive on a bulette, Magnum rolls his eyes slightly. Though he's grudgingly glad to have it along, as it could indeed assist in a few tasks they would doubtless need to perform, he also thinks it unnecessary. It would probably attract enough enemy attention to sate his distaste for it, and the growing disdain he holds for the rider. When it takes a step toward Wyatt, Magnum nudges his pony closer to the halfling and chuckles as he chides, "I fought a few of those during my decade in the caverns of Earthfast, though not alone. Tough they are, yeah, but not so horrible as fighting a Dragon, and not as challenging as taking on an Umber Hulk or a Cloud Giant champion alone!"

A deep belly laugh issues from the Sum Alaghor, which tapers off as he waves at the knights of the Golden Company in acknowledgement of their presence. He smiles and waves at Valina and Johannes when they arrive, mostly at Valina. He nods at her words and turns to look at Thordrek, a battle song on his lips ready to burst out of him, eager as he is to get this battle started.

[mshady]

Sabine

One of the riders keeps advancing from Golden Company's riders. His entire equipment looks to be the same as anyone else in the group, with no symbol of rank. Not that any of them had that. The rider heads right towards Sabine's horse and he pulls up alongside. The man lifts off his helmet with one hand, revealing a long mane of blonde hair and a handsome face, save a nose that is slightly askew.

"Fancy meeting you here, sister! As if I had any doubt" he says laughs. It is an easy, carefree laugh and he reaches out to pat Sabine on the leg. "So we're off to storm a castle or something, yes? We'll talk later, but who's in charge here? The ugly dwarf man on the.. whatever that is?" he says and points to Morna, who was not a man at all but it was hard to tell under all the armor.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Having decided to "fight" Norma by ignoring her barbs and taking her at face value, Thordrek simply nodded when his heart rate (and axe) came down a bit after the shock of seeing the bulette.

Landshark eh? I've never actually seen one of those, impressive beast. Can it burrow with you on it's back or are you thinking of using it to batter the gate down?

[Gorgon_Heap]

The mounted soldier approaches without hesitation, and a flicker of suspicion arose in Sabine’s chest until he showed his face. You can never be too careful, she reminds herself. But Grathem chuckles easily and points at Morna, and Sabine’s eyes widen as she strains to suppress a childlike giggle. She recovers and levels an unconvincing scolding glare at him.

“The situation here is complicated. Lots of dwarves with lots of ideas about the best approach for … all their goings-on. That there on the beast is Morna. She’s stepped aside but is so old and influential it doesn’t appear to matter much. And she’s riding a giant beast because nobody’s going to tell her not to.” She shifts her gaze to a very frustrated figure. “That fellow there, whose axe keeps shooting sparks and looks like he’s about to yank off his own beard? That’s Thordrek. He’s leading our little band in particular. He’s smart and cautious. Once we’re in the thick of it and there’s no time for all these schemers to undermine him, he’ll be calling the shots. In theory.”

[BelGareth]

Kal got caught up with the emotion of the event, he couldn't tell if the prince was jesting or serious, and whether or not he should be concerned, that the prince had killed for him...or for himself? He couldn't tell, but either way, orcs had died because of him. Inside, somewhere in his former self, he urged to reconcile and be sorrowful for those who had died. But the animal within growled that version further into the darkness.

He accepted the offered bleeding hand with trepidation, wondering how such a ritual had come about, but it seemed....honorable in a way, very dwarfish almost. How odd.

"Was the delay to wound me before I am offered, or to kill those who opposed you?" he says without thinking, wincing slightly as he heard the words come out.

He made a mental note, not to disagree with the prince yet, although, he was certain he could main the orc...but he was a tough one.

He looked at the warpaint and smiled, this he knew, and he knew well, it had been a time since he had painted his face...He picked up the paint and found the black and white paints, dipping his fingers in the white pot he slathered his face with white paint until it was covered, then took the black and made a very careful black line at his nose horizontally, then covered the entire of his face below the mark he had made, giving him a half white and black face.

He felt happy with it, it symbolized to him, his mixed emotions, the dichotomy of being accepted but having friends who didn't know him come rescue, his torn spirit. To the others, it would resemble a simple symbol of mixed blood. He continued, and made black lines in his white face carefully, only covering his right eye, so he had a solid one quarter white, one quarter black and white lines, and below his nose was pitch black, spare his ivory teeth that jutted out, which he now displayed eagerly, not wanting to hide them for fear of making people nervous.

He continued the paint down his arms and legs, one quarter white, one quarter white and black stripes, and his legs he kept unpainted. And just to accentuate things, he takes a moment to grow two large curved horns on his head, making him look like a bull

He them meditated for a moment, knowing, understanding, that either way he chose, either way he went through this, he would have a fight.

Spoiler: Maneuvers chosen

Show

Active stance: Hunters Sense (scent special ability)

Readied maneuvers:
[1] Burning Blade
[2] Claw at the Moon
[2] Cloak of Deception
[3] Soaring Raptor Strike
[3] Flesh Ripper
[4] Death From Above
[5] Dancing Mongoose

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt frowns, taking a step back with his shield raised and getting ready to bolt from the bulette, before it's reined back in. He shakes his head, looking at Morna and the bullete. "Great. One more thing to watch out for. On my OWN side, no less. Just keep 'dat thing away from me." He flicks his hand dismissively past his shoulder, moving on.

He mutters to himself, after moving far enough away from the bulette and its rider, "I wouldn't want to eat you either, anyway, lady." He shrugs at Magnum, as if he hadn't said anything at all. "I've already been a chewtoy once, I don't plan on it happenin' twice. 'dat dirtcrawler'll have to work a little harder for it. If she gets separated from 'dat thing, 'dough, and it comes after me, no promises I won't kill the godsdamn thing."

[mshady]

Kal-resh

“Careful, Kal” he warns with sudden seriousness. “Wound you before you’re offered.. what? A place by my side as part of the Thronebreaker Clan, but by my side as a ruler of one of our kingdoms, perhaps? I hardly need you as cause to kill those who oppose me. I was not aware any did!” he says with a laugh. “No, they were some drunken fools who knew those who died in my war party and opposed you, I warned them but disrespecting you disrespected your sponsor and we cannot allow that. What do you think keeps orcs, as a people, in line? It’s fear, or who the biggest or most brutal is. It’s respect. Respect for those above you in life, and respect must be earned, demanded and defended or we are all just a… a horde” he says disdainfully.

“I’m not sure you… grasp what this means. Making you part of the Thronebreaker Clan means that I am adopting you into it, as a brother not just in arms, but name and blood. You are a skilled warrior, a unique talent, intelligent and while you are of us, you have lived apart from us so a different perspective can help us grow. Truly though, you’re a great warrior.

While I defeated you, I wished to offer you this because you are orc but have never even met one of us. How could you truly be our enemy when your head was filled with hate and ignorance towards your own people. Seeing you makes me hate what these other races do to us. They take an orc and make him a mockery. They never accept him, your green skin makes you unclean yet you try so hard to earn respect and acceptance from them that will never come because they’ll never give it. You’re just a jest, a curiosity, someone who hates your orcish heritage so much you’ll fight your own kind to win their acceptance. You’ll never earn that acceptance, but they like to see you chase it like a dog after its tail. It’s the sickest joke of all, Kal-resh.

You’re an orc. A people that live in every corner of the world, above and below. A people who every other race has tried to wipe out, yet has toppled the greatest empires of history. We’re a strong people, who have survived everything. We’ve laws, art, community, farms, smiths yet we are treated like the vermin of this world. No. We’re the competition. The only difference between us and these humans that spread like rabbits is they took the best parts of the world, killed off everyone around them and have the luxury of peace bought with the blood of everyone else around them. So I want you to see that, be part of that and I want to see you see that. That’s what I want. That and see our people flourish from the bones of the empire of those butchering damned dwarfs that hated our ancestors so much they would chose to let us freeze to death in their mountains than to simply let us pass. ” the Prince concludes, clearly worked up in a passion about the subject.

“Get ready, Kal-resh. Get ready to become one of us. You’re either with us or against us though. It is as it has always been” he says, looks at Kal and nods, than walks out.

Whatever just happened, Kal-resh had touched a real nerve just there. This Prince was no mere warrior, but a leader and an educated one at that. It seemed hard to say he was wrong on any it exactly, but that knowledge fed a specific, deep, pit of hate.

[mshady]

Thordrek

Having decided to "fight" Norma by ignoring her barbs and taking her at face value, Thordrek simply nodded when his heart rate (and axe) came down a bit after the shock of seeing the bulette.

Landshark eh? I've never actually seen one of those, impressive beast. Can it burrow with you on it's back or are you thinking of using it to batter the gate down?

Morna laughs at what Throdrek called her mount.

"Landshark? What be a shark? No, this is a bulette. We're just now breeding them, and in a few years we may have dozens, if not hundreds. We call them Land Hammers. Aye, it can burrow with me on it's back but I'm plann'n to use it to take a run right at the gate and knock it down. If it doesn't knock down that gate, it'll tear it down or dig it up to let the mercenaries and yer people in. We'll stay back until ye can cover us and knock down whatever gate or wall ye want. No time to make a siege battering ram, so I brought my own. After that, I take him back somewhere safe for him and ye and I'll join whatever ye leave behind for me. He's an impressive beast and tough as hell, but I'll not risk him more than needed. Sound fair?" she smiles at Thordrek from atop the monstrous bulette.

"Don't worry, I just fed it a cow. Yer little ponies are safe. So are we going or not?" she says with amusement.

[BelGareth]

Kal recoils as his badly aimed bard reaches a sore spot and he sees the reaction from the prince, but it was not all bad. He watched and listened, learning that this orc was smart, intelligent even, far beyond Kal, and had a firm belief in what he was doing. He saw that the prince was reacting emotionally, that he was involved and wanted to affect a change.

The whole thing took him by surprise.

He opened his mouth slightly, but closed them as he realized, pushing a stoic face of regrettable understanding, nodding as the Prince moved through his diatribe, and feeling himself being stirred, the prince was not only a smart orc, but he was a demagogue, he was turning Kal with mere words, stirring his spirit, and stoking the fires within him, that he barely knew of, but were present in every half orc, everywhere.

When he was done, Kal was excited, he was going to be accepted as a brother, a member of their tribe....a leader.

The implications were astounding, and he smiled in anticipation, but felt bad at jibing the prince.

He said nothing in response, but nodded sternly, understanding most of it, feeling the rest of it. He steeled himself, and looked to the prince. "I am with you then." he said sternly and with resolve, "let us go then"

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

We don't have Bulette around Mirabar, so I first heard of these from a Luskan trader and that's what he called them. Sharks are apparently solitary predators with lots of teeth that live in saltwater, look like big fish, might be fish for all I know, hence, landshark... Guess the nickname just stuck with me. Anyway, seems like a good plan.

He raised his voice to be heard by everyone around

#Alright everybody, move out!

Once on the road, he noticed the Golden Company commander talking to Sabine and rode up to them.

Hello there, I'm Thordrek Torrun, I take it you're the one in charge of the Golden Company?

[mshady]

Morna looks down at Thordrek from atop her bulette and tips her head in his direction, followed by a salute that was familiar to him but different. She had touched two fingers to her breast twice and held them out in a salute, almost casual. He had no idea of the significance of the gesture.

"I'm glad ye like my contribution to yer plan, Baron" she says with an easy smile before commanding the bulette to move away. The massive "land shark" swings its massive, block like head in Thordrek's direction and snaps its mouth in his direction, the thing's hungry eye looking over Thordrek's pony with interest.

Thordrek than rides over to Sabine and the soldier talking to her, introducing himself politely to the man. He is taller with a medium build, handsome looks and long blonde hair. He was probably in his early 30s and oozed charisma, with confidence best defined as effortless swagger.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Golden Terremeir and yes, I'm in command of this Company. In charge though? We're democratic. The men elect their sergeants, the sergeants elect the officers, the officers elect the commander and we all vote on things like contracts. Someone has to be in command though, if only to keep up appearances, and I was the best looking" he says with an easy smile. "Also, my father sort of bank rolled the Company as a start up, which means you sort of did after a fashion. Long story that one! Still elected fairly though, and I joined as a squire. More than you wanted to know? Good! Since Buehler hired us, he told us to report directly to you or Magnum, whatever the arrangement is presently. You're lucky to have a warrior as distinguished as Morna with you. She's a fine dining companion, does hold a bit of a grudge over that imprisonment thing though!" he laughs, nearly titters with amusement. "I see my sister is taking good care of you and you her, judging by the still living part" he winks and takes a pull from a wine skin before offering it to Thordrek.

"Well, this should be glorious! Rest assured, we're quite the improvement over Black's Company. There is no one more trustworthy to have by your side in dire conflict than a mercenary company that's already been paid" he laughs again, jibing Thordrek over their reliability. He probably wasn't serious.

"If you want to go over anything, come and see me or we can discuss at camp tonight. In case we're doing the planning thing, although sometimes you never know how to win a fight until you start one and see how it goes. If you know what I mean" he says and winks at Thordrek before heading off, assuming there was nothing else Thordrek really wanted to add.

[Gryndel]

Wyatt

Wyatt frowns, taking a step back with his shield raised and getting ready to bolt from the bulette, before it's reined back in. He shakes his head, looking at Morna and the bullete. "Great. One more thing to watch out for. On my OWN side, no less. Just keep 'dat thing away from me." He flicks his hand dismissively past his shoulder, moving on.

He mutters to himself, after moving far enough away from the bulette and its rider, "I wouldn't want to eat you either, anyway, lady." He shrugs at Magnum, as if he hadn't said anything at all. "I've already been a chewtoy once, I don't plan on it happenin' twice. 'dat dirtcrawler'll have to work a little harder for it. If she gets separated from 'dat thing, 'dough, and it comes after me, no promises I won't kill the godsdamn thing."

Magnum chuckles slightly and nods, then in a serious tone he replies, "I can never thank ye enough for keeping that dragon's jaws occupied for so long. I know it wasn't your first choice of tactics, nor should it be, but it kept the beastie's mouth busy long enough for the rest of us to get in close and kill it. And, after all, you're tough enough to survive such abuse, and ye did get some new clothes out of the deal."

He winks at the last part and claps the Halfling gently on the shoulder, "Now, lets see what beasties they have for us to fight in this battle, eh?"

At the signal from Thordrek, the Sum Alaghor spurs his pony into motion and bellows out a popular dwarven marching tune from near the front of the column. In an impromptu fashion he alters the words slightly to include the brave ponies who bear the weight of armored dwarves.

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Yeah your sister pulled my beard out of the fire a time or two, I'm glad she's back with us. Talk with you in the evening

Thordrek kept riding next to Sabine

Speaking of fighting Sabine, from what you saw of our princely foe does any of us have a shot one on one or should we gang up on him?

[Gorgon_Heap]

For a heartbeat Sabine considers just what the dwarf means, but decides to just roll with it. "From what I hear, Magnum just killed some giant chief by himself, and the prince ran despite having some tactical advantages over me. So sure, I think there's a chance of taking him one-on-one. I was rather hoping I'd be the one, frankly.

"But if you're asking if it would be a good idea to just call him out and make it some honor duel ... well, I guess that's your call. He's smart, he's unnaturally tough, and he's got resources. I wouldn't do it unless I know I've got some advantage he isn't aware of already. But then I'm not a dwarf."

She grows serious. "And neither is he. Whatever honor is between dwarves and orcs, Tymora forgive me if I'm naive enough to trust in it completely."

[mshady]

Festival

The Prince of the Thronebreakers leaves Kal-resh to his thoughts and his ritual painting for a couple of hours before there is a rap on his door. Several orc warriors stand at the door to greet him, although they say nothing. A heavily muscled older orc stands in the center of the group, and Kal recognizes him as one of the surviving members of the Hunter’s guards with the boar spears.

“Come with us, Kal-resh. Come and join us. The Prince is waiting for you, and we will escort you to him” he informs Kal. Beyond the escort, he can see a small crowd looking at the hut, curious to see what will come out. They are mainly children and younger

Presumably Kal follows the escort out into the dusk along a torch lit trail. They walk out of the hut near the wooden palisades. The log walls have platforms behind them for archers to stand on, and there are several wooden towers that are have a minimal presence. There are barrels of arrows around the wall and he can see ballistas in each of the wooden towers. Larger catapults sit on the inside of the wall, with one per section providing coverage around the perimeter but they are currently unmanned. The rest of the buildings inside the fortress are wooden cabins to full sized buildings, but there are three points that look like open shafts to underground sections as well. Atop the hill that overlooks the settlement is a small fortress of wood and stone atop a steep plateau with only one path up it that is flanked with logs to limit the approach to the fort with a gate on both ends protected by towers of stone. That structure is surrounded by a second wall and small towers. Overall, the place was no castle but for a throw-together fort it was put together.

The torch lit path does not take them there though; it takes them to the path leading up to the fortress and a large clearing filled with tables and surrounded by cook fires. What looks to be two hundred orcs are gathered, about half of who are warriors. There is a large bon fire is the center of the gathering and several younger orcs, male and female, are dancing around the fire in some sort of ritual. Not the evil magic kind, at all. Instead the male and female orcs are dancing with a partner around the fire for a few frentic revolutions around the fire before swapping dance partners when a horn blows. When the horn blows, there are cheers if one of the dancing couples exit the dance, having found someone.

Kal does not even realize he had stopped in his tracks and was watching that scene before the older orc spoke to him.

“It’s a pairing dance” he informs Kal. “Mostly we call it the “goose dance” because it is time for the unattached members of the tribe to pick a mate for the season now that they’re adult. Or widowed. It’s like geese? It’s the turn of the season and time for such a thing, and your adoption was cause to make it an even greater party. Your serving girl is at that dance you know” the older orc chuckles slightly before giving Kal-resh a nudge. “Let’s move along”.

So Kal walked the last distance to the party and was guided a bench in the front row before an altar. Food was brought to him, as well as drink, and the benches filled up slowly over the next half hour or so. The Prince was not around, as far as Kal could tell, but all of the orcs seemed to have a good time until a fight broke out near the fire. There were shouts and hollars, but the gathered crowd blocked Kal’s view of the fight. It did not last long, whatever happened, but the music and dancing resumed. Kal could feel the eyes of many of the onlookers as he ate with his honor guard / actual guards and the group’s leader noted that Kal was noticing this too. When he finished gnawing on a large beef rib, he mentioned just that to Kal.

“For most of them, this is the first time they’ve saw a half-orc. Mostly you’re a wonder and a curiosity to them. You’re… interesting. The tales of you changing shapes, that kind of thing is the stuff of legends among our people. Actual legends. There’s still some resentment about you from the families of the men ye killed though, but the Prince convinced them ye were an alright fellow, that ye were taught to hate yer own kind and didn’t know no better. For a legend, they were willing to allow it but it took the Prince some convicing. That one’s good with words. When you got here, they all wanted to kill you. Now they want to give you their daughters. Ye can’t have mine though!” he says with a roaring laugh that the others join in. That seemed an occasion for everyone to down some orcish wheat beer before they returned to their meal.

[BelGareth]

Kal exited the hut with a little trepidation, like a dog peering out the underbrush in the forest, not sure of what was going to happen, or if it was safe.

He was being escorted, so there was that, but he felt strong, powerful even, the Princes words ringing in his ears. He was a powerful warrior, he was.

Following and showing no resistance to his guides, he looked at everything in awe, he had never even heard of orcs coming together like this, let alone living in harmony, and...thriving, as they were. His mouth dropped open a little at the site, and its defenses, it was not a dwarven redoubt, for sure. But it had a marked taste in functionality, and Kal was no engineer, or battle master, more a wild beast, but he could tell when something was meant to hurt, and he had seen the layout of a few Dwarven fortresses. This was intended to protect those inside.

And now he could see them at last, young children, women, elderly, those that could not survive. His mind instantly went to what the Dwarves might do to all these people, and he found himself frowning, becoming angry. Would they butcher them? Presenting future evil incarnations from harassing and killing dwarves and other goodly creatures? He balled his fist at the thought, but that all stopped as Kal stopped and saw the dance.

It was mesmerizing, and couldn't keep his eyes of them, so intriguing, and something inside him longed for...he couldn't tell what, he had no experience with the opposite sex of his race, let alone the mating rituals or even mating itself. He felt something, but he had no idea how to express it or what to do about it. when the older orc spoke up, he almost blushed, but managed to change the color of his cheeks to a darker color. Such was the perks of being a shapechanger.

He sat where he was designated and ate thankfully the food and drink that was given to him, all the while being stared at by others.

It was discerning, especially to such a private person as Kal, at times he had almost shifted and flew away, it would have been so much easier. But the Prince would catch him again no doubt, and he wanted to see him again, forcing through his personal issues, he managed to stay, albeit a little fidgety, which was lost on them as a fight broke out. The Prince had said it wasn't a party until someone hadn't died, so maybe that was a good omen?

He wasn't sure, but he seemed to be getting caught in everything, and sat in rapid awe and anticipation of what was going to happen next, his stomach full of delicious meat, a little more cooked than he preferred, but the sauce was thick and hearty, the ale tasted strange, but he was used to dwarven mead, something that only the stout folk like, but wither way, it did little to him as he was immune to the stuff.

As he listened to the older guard speak, he frowned as he did, these people were the families of those he had killed?

He had never thought about it that way, people, even animals, had families, and when he killed them, he orphaned the children of a father, removed the protection of that wife, and exposed that family. He could see the pain in some of their faces, but as the guard kept talking, he also matched several faces of awe and wonderment. Was he such a legend to them? To shift skins like he did? It wasn't something out of the normal for him, he was taught and his master had done it, and so he had done it. simple.

He thought for a moment, and then stood suddenly.

He shifted into that of a large wolf and then put his forelegs on the log and howled to the sky as loud as he could. Then baring his toothy grin at his orc escort, shifted back and grabbed another plate of ribs that was close by.

[OMG PONIES]

Nalrak Ironfist

Nalrak shakes his head. "No honor duels, please," he says with raised hands. "They're a terrible beast to patch you up from. Surprised Mag's bones healed up as nicely as they did after that giant. Healing's on the menu as always, but mostly mundane stuff. I'm trying to keep the heavy hitters for more of a tactical advantage."

It was no surprise. Nalrak had spent the past few nights in ceaseless prayer, much to the chagrin of his knees and those who were sleeping near him. He had spent countless hours murmuring his requests to the Watcher, and it was anyone's guess what he had heard back.

Spoiler: @DM

Show

Since I'm usually rubbish with spell selections, would I be able to burn a couple days' worth of divinations to see if the gods recommend I prepare any spells that might be particularly useful?

[mshady]

OOC: I'm not even sure myself on what the fight is going to look like. There is the potential for Planar enemies and you might want to be prepared to deal with ranged atacks (arrows, etc). About all I can think of.

Would Nalrak have a simple shield perhaps, since he has the basic mace? Something he could use a AC enhancement on, perhaps?

[King Tius]

Late to the party as usual, Amethyst is one of the last to arrive outside of Brightblade Hall, though she doesn't come alone. She sits perched on top of the shoulder of her newly-created clay golem, much in the same way her ariblaster homonculi sit on her own two shoulders. The golem is particularly stocky and square of chest, given almost dwarf-like dimensions. His hands are also impeccably crafted. Recalling Ammy's work on them earlier, they no longer seem so ridiculous when attached to the hulking automaton. Seeing Morna on her bulette, Amethyst blushes and realizes that she's potentially upstaging the higher-ups.

"Claymore, down please."

Wordlessly and with no effort at all, the golem scoops Amethyst up in its hands and deposits her on the ground. She brushes out her clothes, mutters something about him getting handsy, and shuffles off to find a mount. She returns a few minutes later, leading a pony with a braided mane. As she rides past her golem, she reaches up and smacks it derisively on the rear end. The slapping sound is much louder than she expected and she giggles as she looks around nervously. She stands next to her newest henchman and riffles though her packs and pouches, checking and double checking that she's got everything she needs.

[mshady]

While Kal-resh waits with the other orcs and enjoys the meal and observes the dancing under the torch light, he appears to enjoy the feast. Certainly the astonishment and cheers elicited by his sudden shape changing was one of the more interesting events of the evening. Now a crowd seems to be watching his every move, waiting to see what he would do next.

Another hour goes by, or at least it seems that way. The Prince has still not arrived, but he is told that the Prince is in the fort atop the hill and would be making his entrance soon. That entrance is eventually signaled by long notes on two great horns that are blown from the fortress and immediately get everyone’s attention. The stone gate house guarding the fortress open and a procession of spear wielding orcs advance ahead of the Prince, who rides atop a warhorse covered in plate armor. Apparently the one Kal killed was not the Prince’s only horse. The crowd gathers to watch the group of twenty warriors escort their Prince. Behind him rides the shaman that Kal had met before. The head down the hill, following the log-wall corridor down to the crowd below that are celebrating and waiting for his arrival. The elevation is enough to watch them down to the second gates that guard the plateau, but the view is not blocked for long as the gates swing open and the procession continues to the area of the festival. A crowd gathers to watch the approach as he rides his horse right up to the edge of the stage before waving at the crowd and dismounting. A soldier leads the horse away as he again waves to the crowd. Rather than heading right into a speech though, he sits at a table prepared for him and attacks a plate of food and drink for a few minutes as everyone waits, unsure whether to stand and be ready for a speech or return to the festival. When he’s finished, he tosses a beef rib to some waiting dogs and heads to a crude podium as the dogs snarl at each other, to his and the crowd’s amusement. When he raps his knuckles on the podium, the crowd cheers him though and he has to motion them to silence so he can begin.

“I hope you enjoyed the feast and the goose dance, and may you have found all that you desired tonight! I and the other hunters have scoured the land for stags for our feast, our gatherers have found the herbs, the farmers the potatoes, our brewer this drink and our cooks this great meal. Yes it was time for the dance, and yes it was the season, but it is also time to welcome Kal-resh, The Warrior of Many Shapes into our family, into the Thronebreaker Clan and as a Brother in blood and arms!

Yes, I know he is new to us and the adoption of an outsider, even another orc let alone a half-breed is almost unheard of. What will they say? What will they think? What about the tradition? Well, Kal is a great warrior and a worthy addition. He bested some of our best warriors, and nearly bested me. He is strong! What he also is though is an orc! His blood is our blood, but through the accident of birth he never knew his own kind. No, the Men of the world filled him with hate for his own people and he even fell in with the dwarfs of Tethyamar. They taught him to hate the part of him that was strong, the part of him that was us, and turned him loose against his own people for their own ends. No, own amusement! While he fought for acceptance in a world that would never accept him, his plight was our plight. We too fight to survive in a world that would rather us not be here. They forget our peoples are as great as their own! We conquered the greatest dwarf kingdom of them all! Our kin live in every corner of this world, above and below, our lands are vast and our blood is strong! For us not to accept Kal-resh as one of our own would be hypocrisy. We must give him the chance to be one of us and accept him now, just like we would have accepted him as one of our own if found just as forsaken babe in the woods left to die. He too was left for dead by friends who had no more use for him, and that is why I think he has a place amongst us. Because he always should have had a place amongst us! He never could have a place amongst the humans and dwarfs and hated elves of the world who think we have no place. You all know the stories of dwarves using fire and axe to kill every last woman and child of a Clan. There are wars but they made it clear they will not suffer an orc to live. To turn our back to Kal-resh, to kill him rather than accept him would be treating him the same as they treat every other orc, and who are we if we do that?
You are my people and you have my eternal thanks for following me out of the mountains to this place. To a harder life, but a better life! My brothers schemed against me for their own greed and drove us from the Goldhammer Halls, but one day soon we will return there and take back what was all of ours. Soon that time will come and while we wish to shed no blood and take no life of any but my brothers, they’ve already tried to kill us, and killed many of us. We all have much to avenge and with Kal as one of us, we are that much closer to that. As the true heir to my father, when my time comes know I will do right by all of you, but also by all of the Clans living in all of the peaks. That we will throw out the Zhentarim and banish the devils, finally making this a home for orcs to truly be our own masters. When that is done, we will go out and take what surronds us and claim it for our own. Those of you who pick herbs now will have great farms. Those of you who cook will have plenty. Those of you who serve me today will be the great Lords of the tomorrow. That’s my promise to you, and it has always been my promise. A promise of greatness and pride in who we are, and if those around us won’t respect us, they will fear us! Know that and take heart, and accept Kal-resh as one of our own. He always could have been, and if we believe all of the rest, we must accept that he too can belong. Now, go back to your food and dances, enjoy the time and welcome Kal to our Clan!” Prince Thronebreaker concludes, rapping his knuckles against the lectern again to the cheers of the crowd. He waves to the crowd and returns to his table to down a second glass of drink before wading into the crowd, talking to everyone as he works his way through the group. He seems to know almost everyone’s name, their family, and other details as he mingles and greets everyone. Kal had never seen an orc leader like this before, but then again, had he ever seen one before?

[mshady]

Late to the party as usual, Amethyst is one of the last to arrive outside of Brightblade Hall, though she doesn't come alone. She sits perched on top of the shoulder of her newly-created clay golem, much in the same way her ariblaster homonculi sit on her own two shoulders. The golem is particularly stocky and square of chest, given almost dwarf-like dimensions. His hands are also impeccably crafted. Recalling Ammy's work on them earlier, they no longer seem so ridiculous when attached to the hulking automaton. Seeing Morna on her bulette, Amethyst blushes and realizes that she's potentially upstaging the higher-ups.

"Claymore, down please."

Wordlessly and with no effort at all, the golem scoops Amethyst up in its hands and deposits her on the ground. She brushes out her clothes, mutters something about him getting handsy, and shuffles off to find a mount. She returns a few minutes later, leading a pony with a braided mane. As she rides past her golem, she reaches up and smacks it derisively on the rear end. The slapping sound is much louder than she expected and she giggles as she looks around nervously. She stands next to her newest henchman and riffles though her packs and pouches, checking and double checking that she's got everything she needs.

Morna:

"I thought I was mistaken or you claimed title by ambition alone, but you're the golem maker? Well, one of the very few we have" Morna remarks and turns to the rest of the group with a serious look on her face.

"Take good care of this one. I'm not sure how she got a holiday out of the workshops, but she's more important than almost any Arcanii. The crafting of golems will be very important if the great war ever comes" she advises the group, making sure everyone 'got it' before dismounting to come over and inspect the golem. She looks it over, checking it carefully like an expert farrier reviewing a horse and she nods approvingly several times.

"That's some fine work but a dangerous choice. Pressed for time? Good to have though. Very good!" Morna says, looking up at 'Claymore'. "You do know they can go mad in combat, yes? If it happens, I would hope it would be at a time no one can tell the difference if the elemental inside goes into a rage. Try to keep it out fights it does not need to be in. Never lose control. Words I live by" Morna advises Amethyst privately, than slaps her on the arse in the same manner Amethyst just slapped the golem. It was not a gentle swat, either.

[mshady]

Camp Site

The group heads out towards the orcish fort, riding until nightfall and setting up camp behind a hill to hide their campfires. They are in enemy territory now and some of the Gold Company mercenaries are sent out as guards. Wyatt joins them at dusk, sweeping the perimeter for any sign of orcs and while he finds signs, a tree stand and some blinds from where they can observe the approach, all seem to be empty. They had not exactly been trying to hide their approach, simply because of the impossibility of hiding a column of troops, riders, a bulette and an armored golem with a dwarf riding atop it. Either the orcs were distracted, or they had saw their approach and had long abandoned their position. Either way, a picket was really set to try to limit the chances of an attack on their encampment.

A small group of tents were set up and each of the Gold Company troops set up several wooden spikes and connected them with wire to disrupt an enemy approach or halt a cavalry attack. The mercenaries handled the cooking, doing pork on cast iron or over a fire, serving it by the shank and with a fine amber lager from Baldur’s Gate. One of the cows they brought along was fed right to the bulette, keeping it hungry and sleepy.

Grathem approaches the group as they all share a meal once Wyatt returns and reports on the status of the pickets, stating all was quiet and they were accounted for. They all briefly review the plan, settling on a frontal attack led by the golem. Sabine, Wyatt and Johannes would try to scale a wall and clear a platform to snipe at the enemy from behind with arrows and fire grenades shortly before the main attack arrived in the form of the golem tearing a hole through one wall and Morna destroying the gate with her bulette. The Golden Company would advance would try to suppress enemy archers along the wall with their own archers, but they would be vulnerable on the approach and nearly naked to an enemy mage. Buna and Grathalmor would try to protect them from that. With the walls breached, the Golden Company would attack both breaches and Thordrek’s group would enter the fray. The cavalry would try to screen the main attack from any flankers and then attack, doing whatever they can, wherever they can. After that, it would just be a matter of killing them all, finding Bel-gareth and killing The Hunter.

“One question though?” Grathem asks after they settle on a plan. “It’s not just a fort but maybe a settlement too, yes? The drawing show farms and buildings, not just a wood castle. What are we doing with the prisoners? Particularly the civilians? If there are such a thing with orcs. We’re comfortable with a lot, but we have some lines. If you’re killing everyone in there, you lot can finish that part up on your own. Not a reputation we want” Grathem says with a lot more seriousness than they had heard from the easy going man before.

Morna looks around at the group, acknowledging the situation.

"It's up to Baron Thordrek and Captain Magnum, but any orc that survives today we fight tomorrow. When they took Tethyamar, they killed every single dwarf, man, woman and child. If they were lucky. Sacrifices for devils on our own altars, torture, I hear it was brutal even by their standards. Remember what they did to your half orc? The crucified him in a field just to show him off! We don't need to be cruel about it, but I saw we take no prisoners either. A boy becomes a warrior with a grudge. Every woman welps more warriors and they breed at a fearsome rate. Do we want a dwarf dead tomorrow by the hand of a warrior we could have killed today? War's a nasty business and they do the same to us, same as its been since time began. Orcs only beget more orcs, and we're here to fight orcs. I'm curious if you had the stomach for it" she says before returning to a particularly nasty piece of pork she was gnawing on.

[Gryndel]

Magnum

Listening closely, the war priest says gruffly, "Traditionally orcs are not farmers, though they've been known to enslave others to such a life. While I might wish it was otherwise, and others with more intellect may someday find a way to change this, the ancient wisdom Morna expressed remains correct in my view. As long as enemy warriors insist on using settlements as battlefields, they will risk the lives of everyone present. War is indeed a nasty business, and often demands that unfavorable actions be done to secure victory. So I say no quarter be asked or given, no mercy shown, and no prisoners."

[thorgrim29]

Thordrek

Thordrek looked slightly green at the gills at the talk of massacring prisoners, this was the third time since he had left Barakbar that it was brought up, and he still had the same opinion. He chewed on a piece of pork a bit too long before washing it down with a long pull from a tankard.

I like to think we deserve to win because we're better people, not just because we're shorter and paler than the orcs. Not that taking them prisoner will be much better, no reason to take a prisoner if you're only going to kill him anyway. So, I say any of them who wants to run, we let run, we'll probably take fewer losses that way too, nobody likes to fight an enemy whose back is against the wall. We'll be wading through rivers of blood in the caves soon enough

[Strangie]

Wyatt

Wyatt seemed happy to report there was no trouble afoot in the surrounding area. He was pretty confident in that, too, and in his skills as a scouting agent. If they tried to get the drop on the dwarven party, he'd know about it first.

When the discussion of what to do with prisoners or civilians came up, he shook his head. "I don't really like havin' to kill someone who doesn't want to fight. I don't care what color 'deir skin is or what the shape of 'deir ears are or whatever. I've never been one to discriminate. An old friend taught me better 'dan 'dat. But on the other hand, we're in a war - someone's gonna get hurt. 'dey know 'dat, we know 'dat. All I know is, you gotta do what you have to in order to survive. Whatever 'dat entails... well, we'll just have to wait and see."