In which Frelik achieves a personal goal... after being a whiny bitch
and nearly ending up a Reytard
The rest of the night was spent tending to the wounded,
including Frelik - who had to be none too gently shaken back to
consciousness. With two dead and easily
a half-dozen or more wounded, the rest of the night carried on under a more
subdued tone; the weight of yet more senseless death hanging heavily over the
tribe.
Once Frelik and Magpie had had their fill of eating gremlin
carcasses, the remaining pile of little bodies as well as the big, hairy body
of their leader were dragged outside the borders of the encampment and burned
to prevent further bad luck or worse, the spread of disease.
The morning of the twelfth day of the party’s trip - the
seventeenth day of Pharast - found the tribe returning to business as usual,
proving that tragedy was only par for the course out here. Severto and Chief Mancio sought the party out
early to give their thanks for the group’s assistance with their little problem,
offering one higher level tattoo for one member of the party in thanks.
Adamon, for his part, emerged from his tent an hour after
sunrise in his human form, looking sheepish or humiliated. He’d obviously been told about the disgrace
of his attack the night before. In
thanks for the party’s kindness in not killing him he offered up the beautiful,
cold-iron longsword he’d been swinging the night before by way of thanks. Magpie took it gratefully, leaving his own,
broken cold-iron longsword with the man in exchange.
The tribe spent the rest of the day smoking their abundance
of Aurochs meat, out of which they offered each member of the party two days’
rations. The group, meanwhile, spent the
rest of the day resting and relaxing as Severto toiled in tattooing Davros’
hands with something that was promised to make his sight better.
Near late afternoon Reytard, who had been conspicuously
absent from the rest of the group all day, approached them, “It seems this
tribe is under-manned… ” he chuckled at his own jest and banged his chest, “I, Reytard,
will help see them to safety. Whether
they choose to repopulate or merge, I will help them.”
“But weren’t you supposed to be guiding us?” Frelik asked.
“Ah, I have foreseen for this.” Reytard replied, laughing
lustily as he withdrew the map. With a
flourish he tossed it to Yuri, who caught it subconsciously.
Yuri laid the map out on the back of his caravan and Reytard
obliged by explaining, pointing to parts of the map as he spoke, “Your best
route will be to follow the Sunwall into Ustalav, using the series of old,
abandoned forts which were initially built to keep the orcs contained - until
they were overrun by the orcs. You can
seek shelter there. You will no doubt
encounter some orcs, but it is the
route of least orcy-resistance.”
A few of the Sklar-Qua trackers leaned over Reytard’s
shoulder, studying the route he suggested and agreeing that, as far as routes
through Blekzen went, it wasn’t a bad choice.
As the group rolled out of the campsite early the next
morning, the eighteenth day of Pharast, Reytard raised his lance in salute,
calling out, “Perhaps, if the stars align and the gods are kind, we will see
each other again! Farewell and good
luck!”
As the party travelled across the desert, they kept The
Sleeper to their southern side. The pile
of rock was arranged in a surprisingly lifelike silhouette of a sleeping dragon
which constantly emitted a thin stream of smoke.
“Is that really made of rock?” Valeria asked the group at large.
Davros, who’d grown up in the area, nodded, “Yes.”
Magpie squinted at it, “Huh.
I’m not so sure about that.”
Without any more warning he began drifting sideways, slowly
peeling away from the party towards the Sleeper.
“Where are you going?”
Valeria demanded, eyes narrowing.
“That way?” Magpie replied, pointing at the Sleeper.
“That’s really out of our way…” Valeria began.
“No, it’s fine.”
Magpie countered.
“That’s like two hours by lizard-back out of our way each way.” Valeria pointed out.
“That’s fine, I’ll find you guys.” Magpie insisted, raising his beak.
“We’ll be gone.” Frelik stated.
“Look, we were totally planning to come here on the way back.” Valeria offered.
“I don’t believe you.”
Magpier returned.
“I swear we will.”
Valeria said, trying to sound persuasive.
“Um, it’s you, so I’m pretty sure you’re lying.” Magpie shot back.
Frelik turned to Magpie, growling through gritted teeth,
“We’ll. Come. Here.
On. The. Way.
Back.”
The expression on his face left no doubt that he would do
Magpie a serious injury if he disagreed.
“Fine.” The bird-man
sighed, “But we’d better actually come here on the way back.”
They carried on their way, managing to get past the tip of
the Mindspin Mountains before resting that night.
The fourteenth day took the group within spitting distance
of the Seraphis Ladder, which was reputed to reverse the effects of aging for
one night on the winter solstice. Of
course, anyone who ventured up there would have their age return full force
upon descending - sometimes with dreadful consequences. The general story went that old orcs would go
up there on that night to relive the glory of their youth for one night before
leaping to their deaths.
The third day into the hold of Belkzen the party came across
a pile of ruins which looked like an excellent potential shelter – except that
there was already smoke rising from them.
Not wanting to travel much past the ruins that day as it was already
late afternoon they decided to see what was going on.
Frelik and Akura, able to be stealthy darted ahead to
investigate as the rest of the party hung back, just out of sight.
By Frelik’s estimation, the orcish tribe inhabiting the
ruins was small; likely numbering under one hundred strong. They seemed to be mostly nomadic, likely
moving up and down along this range and taking refuge in the ruins where they
could. There seemed to be a very
respectable number of warriors. He saw
enough weapons in the camp that Frelik would be hesitant to attack the group
openly.
The barbarian also mentioned that he noticed banners strewn
about bearing a symbol of a flaming sword; the symbol of the orcish capital,
Urgir. Because they had the ties to the
capital, they were more likely to be peaceful and open to trade.
The group was hesitant to approach the orcs, given their
reputation for killing and eating humans, but it still seemed wiser to make
themselves known to the creatures than to run the risk of trying to hide from
them.
Valeria shot Magpie a look, “Don’t fuck this up, bird
man. You’ve got a proven track record of
getting us in trouble. How about this, if
you promise to behave I will give you grasshoppers.”
Magpie brightened.
“Fine.” Valeria
sighed, venturing out into the fading light, only to return moments later with
heaps of grasshoppers, “Here, here’s four pints of grasshoppers. Stay by the cart and don’t cause trouble.”
“They come in pints?!?”
Frelik marvelled, turning to Davros, “Is there anything we can do to
approach them that will make us appear more friendly?”
“Yes, don’t draw your weapons and wave them around... They might view that as a challenge.” Davros replied drily.
As the group entered the camp they were met with the
incessant rolling of drums underlining the flow of a tale being told in orcish.
The group was almost instantly intercepted by a pair of
spear-wielding orc sentries. They glanced
at each other uncertainly before turning to Davros, “What are you doing
here?” They demanded in orc.
Davros drew himself up and replied, “We are travellers
looking to offer our respects to your tribe and share information... and perhaps
your campsite.”
“Hold on.” One of the
orcs said, disappearing back into the encampment.
A moment later the sounds of storytelling died down and the
orc sentry returned, “Come with me.” He
intoned, waving at Yuri and the caravan to stay put.
He led Davros and the Magpie into the huge campfire
circle. They were brought before a huge
chieftain with his polearm laid across his lap, to his left sat a venerable
aged orc and on his right, in the place of honour was the lead warrior.
The huge orc slammed a fist to his chest, “Haddrick
Ironbrand.” He said, almost as though he
didn’t expect anyone to understand.
“I am Davros Plaguescarred, shaman apprentice, on a quest
for my shaman and travelling through your lands.” Davros replied in fluent orcish, “I wanted to
offer my respects to you and your Shaman and trade with your tribe if we are
welcome.”
The chief scaned his tribe before letting his suspicious
gaze come to rest on the cart, “Your tribe, they are not orcs.”
“Not who I’m currently travelling with, no.” Davros replied,
not giving an inch.
“Will they betray us?” The chief demanded without preamble.
“No. They will
not.” Davros replied without hesitation,
“these humans are my brothers in arms.
We are travelling to Mendelev together; it is where my quest takes me.”
“I have heard of the trials of the plaguescarred tribe.” The chief replied pensively, “You may stay
with us, but in exchange you must assist us on the hunt tomorrow.” He turned to the rest of the group declaring,
“Let the humans feel welcome.”
The group was welcomed into the tribe with open arms, the
orcs sharing their meats and drink with anyone who would like some.
The shaman, the wizened old orc with a staff covered in
chattering skulls, stood and proclaimed, “Eat!
Drink! Enjoy!”
Davros explained to the party that they were welcome for the
night as long as they agreed to hunt with them in the morning. The group agreed easily; it seemed like a
perfectly reasonable trade.
Valeria and Frelik imbibed a little too much of the Orc grog
and found themselves sharing a bed the next morning with a rather muscular
orcish lady, all three completely naked.
Bright and early the next morning the party was awoken and
invited to join the hunt. Valeria woke
still drunk and spent most of the morning crawling about groaning and asking
anyone who would listen to tell her what she’d done the night before. She was obviously washed with shame over her
actions.
Frelik just walked around wearing a stupid grin.
They were taken to an enormous orc who grunted once,
summoning a dozen of his own warriors with the single noise. With a careless wave he sent nine off into
one hunting party. “You lot come with
us.” He growled, indicating his two
remaining warriors, one of whom was the swarthy orc female who’d shared Frelik
and Valeria’s bed.
Their hunting party set out, walking the land as though they
weren’t expecting to find anything.
About an hour into the hunt the leader dropped to the ground, gesturing
into the distance. “Ankegs.” He said, “Taste great boiled. We’re taking that.”
Davros and Magpie hesitated.
Ankegs were acid biting beetles
after all, and it looked like what he was pointing at was a nest.
“Nest?” Davros asked.
“Eh, can’t be that big of a nest.” The huge orc replied with a shrug.
“Okay.” Davros
shrugged, turning to the rest of the party, “Looks like we’re going hunting.”
The entire group, orcs included, started down through the
ruins toward the nest, trying to be stealthy.
Frelik, trying to show off for his newest feminine
conquests, blazed forth, stumbling on a rock at the last moment and drawing the
attention of the creature, who hissed and charged, snapping at him with its
dripping mandibles. It grabbed him
around the waist, shaking him in the air like a rag doll.
“Of course!” Valeria shouted, smacking herself on the
forehead, “I knew he was going to die today, that’s why I gave him a shot last night!” She looked around to make sure that someone
had heard her announcement then advanced on the bug, careful not to get too
close.
The orcs, not to be shown up by their guests, charged into
the fray, jabbing their spears into the creature’s side as the leader hung
back, shouting orcy encouragement.
With a cry, Akura vaulted over the low wall of the ruin he’d
been standing in, darting around to the creature’s other side to flank it as
Davros lobbed a sticky bomb at the creature.
Magpie squawked and moved into a free space around the
creature.
Frelik, tired of being treated like a giant bug’s plaything,
whipped out his dagger, bringing the blade down to plant between its eyes. The critter squealed once and collapsed.
Two more burst from the sand, screaming. They wasted no time charging into the hunting
party, mandibles snapping.
One hurled itself as Davros as the other attacked the orc
leader from behind. His two warriors
wasted no time in spinning to defend their leader while Davros leapt back from
the creature and hurled another sticky bomb, entangling the thing.
Frothing at the mouth and yelling his rage Frelik charged
the bug fighting Davros. The creature
shrieked, panicking, and backed off as though the glue from the bomb were
nothing. It spat acid at the group, taking
down one of the orcs.
The remaining orc warrior managed to pin their bug to the
ground with her spear, allowing the leader to falchion its head off. And another one bit the dust.
Davros hurled another bomb at the one they were fighting,
pinning it to the ground once again.
Magpie cawed with glee and whiffed, opening the way for
Frelik to step in with his two blades and cut it in twain.
Obviously enraged the bugs retaliated, one landing a solid
blow on Magpie as the other took down the two orc warriors. Their leader stepped forward, slicing the
front two legs off the ankeg that had taken his friends.
Davros spun from the one Frelik had just killed and hurled a
bomb at the one who was still attacking the orc leader, killing it.
With only one ankeg remaining to kill, Davros glanced over
his shoulder and cried out, “Look out!
Incoming Wyvern!”
The flying creature swooped in, swiping at the barbarian
with its tail. Kocking him to the ground
in a bloody heap.
The remaining ankeg knocked down the Magpie before getting
gutted by the orc party leader. Having
successfully slain the final bug, the orc turned his attention to the wyvern,
tamping down and looking for a window.
Akura whipped a tiny vial out of a pouch and poured it down
the Magpie’s throat. He groaned, “Aah. That hurt!
What the-!?!”
He was looking straight up the orc leader’s battle skirt.
He pecked at the orc’s nuts and yelled at him to move before
getting up. Once on his feet he produced
a wand and tapped it on the orc leader’s shoulder, healing him.
The wyvern screamed and swooped to land in front of Valeria,
snapping at her successfully and looking like it was about to take off with the
gunslinger in its mouth.
Valieria brought her gun up and around, unloading a shot
into the creature’s face.
It shrieked, but seemed otherwise unaffected.
The orc leader roared and charged the winged creature
landing a solid falchion strike across its flank. It cried out and Davros hurled another bomb
at it.
Magpie darted over and saw to the two orc warriors, making
sure they were both stable.
The wyvern shook Valeria in its mouth once and launched back
into the air. Akura and the orc leader
took swings at it, but only the orc succeeded in hitting it.
Once the wyvern was airborne the orc leader hurled a throwing
axe, missing horribly.
With a shout Akura pushed off a half-fallen column and
launched into the air, attempting to grab the creature and missing by inches before
returning nimbly to the earth.
Pulling the last bomb from his belt, Davros kissed it for luck
and tossed. Miraculously, the bomb
struck the creature, a web of shining white strands tangling up the beast’s
wings and dropping it to the ground.
As it hit the ground, Valeria flew from its mouth, landing a
few feet away. With a screech it swung its
tail at Akura, who grabbed it as it lashed out against the orc leader, killing
him.
Magpie darted in and tapped Frelik with the wand. The barbarian rose, swaying and panting, and
took a heroic swing at the creature, missing.
The creature snapped out at Akura, successfully grabbing the
monk in his mouth and rendering him unconscious. The beast began flapping, clearly readying to
lift off again.
Davros dug deep into his pockets and found one last bomb,
which he hurled at the creature, finally destroying it.
The battle was followed by a flurry of first aid as the
Magpie rushed around, seeing to the injured and managing to nurse everyone but
the orc leader back from the brink of death.
Unfortunately the huge man was too far gone to save.
The party built a few litters to haul back the body of the
orc as well as their kills and returned triumphant to the orc camp.
