Open Chronicles A Trek Through the Blight

[Kol]

Northern Blightlands

It was unsurprisingly hot within the blasted lands of the Blight, sweat beading on Kol's brow as he took another step through the broken and craggy canyon. Two dozen warriors still followed behind him, most of them with stern expressions.

Some of their number had already abandoned this mission, though as soon as they'd turned their back Kol had ensured none would make it far. The sands claimed their corpses, and the Dark Gods had ensured none of their screams reached people who could hear them. This quest was too important for that. He could not allow anyone to give them away.

The shard of the Elemental he and Ormr had captured hung around his neck on a leather strap, the cool gem touching his breast bone even as they walked through the desiccated Blightlands.

It had come in handy more than once already, it's magic allowing Kol to craft pools of water for them to camp around during the night. This was how the company of Northerners had made it through nearly half of the Blightlands, moving through the dangerous territory through a manner that no one had ever imagined they could.

Other dangerous faced them of course, but those could not be predicted. "That plateau up there."

Kol pointed to a nearby ridgeline.

"A good view point, I think." He commented to the Half-Giant besides him.

 

[Ormr]

The Blightlands were unforgiving, the heat was unkind to the Half-Giant. Whereas the nights were more tolerable the day picked away at him, distracting him and playing at his mind as much as his physique. It was better than the deep desert of Amol-Kalit or the depths of the Ixchel Wilds but Ormr would have preferred a cooler climate.

The Nordwirr didn't only have to worry about Kol, the Sorcerer may have ensured that those abandoning the mission were lost in the sands but Ormr patience grew even thinner due to the heat. He had killed at least two of the Raiders he felt weren't staying loyal to their goals or so he claimed. Whether he had just imagined their wrong doing or he'd crushed them to sate his own bloodlust was unknown.

Most would have considered it fortunate they hadn't run afoul any serious threats thus far but the Half-Giant was not most.

As the group slowed and Kol pointed out the ridge line, the plateau Ormr would have have tilted his head to look in that direction. Raising a hand to cover his brow, the sweat that had started to form in beads there was evident and the Half-Giant seemed a tad, slower....

"Does it?"

...the Half-Giants eyes had narrowed, his voice still a rumble but labored to some extent. He lowered his hand, turning his head towards Kol where his eyes briefly seemed to fixate on the strange Blue Shard that he wore/ Something unintelligible was grumbled then he would have said...

"We should climb it then. Perhaps we'll see something to kill down below."

...the large steps of the Half-Giant would begin to take him up towards the plateau then. The large sword he wielded still sheathed over his back, its hilt extending up over his shoulder. He should have been happy they hadn't run afoul another town or group of Blight Orcs but the urge to slay helped keep Ormr going, nevermind the idea that someone may have learned about the raid of Lerek by now.

 

[Kol]

The Sorcerer lingered behind for a moment, glancing at the Half-Giant.

Kol was not entirely sure, but Ormr seemed somewhat...unhinged as of late, as if something in his head was not quite right. He wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining it or if it was actually happening. A frown touched his lips, but he quickly followed after Ormr.

The other Raiders fell into line behind him, those most loyal sticking as close as they could to the Sorcerer himself. Before long they managed to crest the ridge, reaching the top of the empty plateau to be graced with the sight of the far away Blightlands.

There a picturesque sight was painted for them.

Bleak and dry lands meeting graceful slops and a long river in the distance to the South. Then to their left, a shambled fortress. "There."

He pointed to the west towards the old Stone Keep.

"Is there any movement?" He asked, cupping a hand over his eyes as he tried to see.

 

[Ormr]

The Sorcerer wasn't wrong. There were elements of their journey that had played on his mind, they made the Half-Giant more irritable among other things as Kol had already witnessed.

As he came to the crest of the plateau Ormr would have taken a knee, resting an arm across his thigh while he looked out across the bleak yet picturesque landscape until Kol joined him. When the Sorcerer turned his attention towards the crumbling fortress Ormr's attention seemed to ignite, switching on after a fashion.

The Half-Giant saw nothing at first, grunting out only an audible...

"No."

...but then, his hand raising to press across his brow as he surveyed the Stone Keep from a distance he'd have seen something which caused him to state...

"Wait."

...before he leaned closer, as if that would make a difference and then squinted his eyes trying to make out the figures he saw from afar. Outstretching his hand from his brow he'd have reached as though trying to touch the minute forms he saw or direct Kol's attention towards them...

"Blight Orcs, maybe. Something large in any event."

...he couldn't be certain...

"Maybe a garrison, maybe something less than that."

...this Stone Keep was an obstacle between them and the River in the south that they sought as Ormr saw it however he wasn't sure what Kol intended. It might be that the Sorcerer preferred to go around considering an assault would surely entail some losses on their part, even an underwhelming garrison of Blight Orcs would could create savage resistance. Of course the Half-Giant had no cares, as he withdrew his large hand he'd have curled it into a massive fist which when squeezed together seemed to pulse with subdued rage.

 

[Kol]

Kol frowned for a brief moment, mulling over the news of what lay before them. As far as he knew there should be no Blight Orcs here.

There was no nothing of value to be found for miles. The fortress itself was all but a shamble, hardly more defensible than a shack. Most of the walls had tumbled to the ground, and it appeared that it's central spire was in the process of falling over.

What where they here for?

Slowly Kol glanced towards the left, watching one of the odd chesire grins that floated around him. It said nothing, only taunting him with it's silence. "Varick."

He called to one of the Raiders.

"I need you and three others." Kol spoke quietly. "It's time."

The Raider simply gave a grim nod, motioning towards three others as The Sorcerer looked towards Ormr. "I want to see what they're here for."

He told the giant.

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant glanced towards the Raiders that the Sorcerer addressed. Varick was a skilled fighter from what he'd witnessed. It may have been worthwhile to crush him under other circumstances however Ormr's attention shifted back to Kol when he spoke.

He would shrug his shoulders then he state...

"Does it matter? Their path crosses ours. We should destroy them and move on to the river."

...the rumble in his voice indicated that the Half-Giant would have preferred to rush down the slope of the plateau and attack, putting the Blight Orcs on the defensive from the beginning in their pitiful excuse for a keep. Narrowing his eyes he looked between Kol and the other Nordwirr as though he were putting something together...

"You don't plan on going down there to parlay with them do you?"

...the very notion seemed to disgust the Half-Giant who rose from his kneeling position to stand to his full height. An intimidating sight considering the musculature of him which flexed, tensing unconsciously as he observed the Sorcerer as well as the men under his command.

The Walls as they were, little more than rubble and the central spire all but ready to collapse itself Ormr had visions of charging down into the fray and slaughtering anything that crossed his path. Kol had managed to persuade him in the past though, leading him in the direction that benefited the Sorcerer. Maybe he would do it again.

 

[Kol]

"No." He said softly, peering down at the Keep as he spoke.

Kol had no doubt that they could kill the Blight Orcs down there, but the losses they would take would mean the rest of the journey was even more dangerous. They would have to take another measure.

"Tell me." He asked Ormr. "Do your people know anything of the SkinWolves?"

The sorcerer did not know if Half-Giant's spoke of such things, if they even held the legends. The man must have at least heard of the Nordenfiir, and this magic was similar.

Though far more cruel."[/color]

 

[Fain]

Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled, their blood curdling cries reaching up into the sky like prayers to forgotten gods.

And deeper, joining the howls, came the beating of drums, a slow and growing tattoo, like approaching thunder.

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant at least seemed appeased to learn that Kol hadn't intended to treat with the Blight Orcs.

When the Sorcerer asked him if he knew anything of Skinwolves Ormr would shrug his shoulders, his gaze once again setting upon Kol as he replied...

"Another kind of shifter, I assume."

...the Half-Giant knew many legends. He knew of Lycanthropes, Vampires, the Undead, Dragons and other sub species of such. The Nordenfiir were also known to him, well known considering his own lineage. Frost Giants and their bastard Half-Giant offspring had lived among the Eretejva Tundra as long as any of the Norden, probably longer. As for Skinwolves he merely assumed it was another form of shapeshifter though, a niche that he likely had encountered and killed at some point but never bothered to learn the name of.

"What of it?"

...he'd have eventually asked Kol, presuming the Sorcerer had something to tell or show him otherwise he would not have brought it up. The Half-Giant did recall that during their raid on Lerek one of the Raiders had transformed when the walls of the manor were breached.

The howl of Wolves caught his attention then as did the distant beating of drums.

 

[Kol]

"In a way." Kol conceded, turning his head towards the sounds of the distant howls. " a long time ago my people were not much different from the Nordenfiir."

In fact, many whispered that the two had once been the same.

Thousands of years ago the differences would not even have been noticed by themselves, that was of course until the pact was made. Deep in the Lost Isles, shrouded in forgotten mists and an impossible reality Kols ancestors had forged a deal.

"What separated us was a pact, one made with the dark gods." Howls and shrieks of agonizing pain echoed out from just behind them, each of the three raiders he had chosen beginning their slow and painful transformations.

"We receive a boon, each one of us. This is where my sorcery comes from." Kol explained. "As for them…"

He trailed off as he glanced back. The three raiders had shifted. Bones broken, flesh stretched, jaws shifted. They were now something wholly different, abominations made flesh. Bear, wolf, and man twisted with the reckless abandon of the dark gods. They stood nearly at Ormr's height, each one with rotten flesh and tainted claws. They were branded, a symbol on each of their chests.

All three stood panting heavily, rage and hatred in their eyes as they waited.

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant seemed mildly distracted by the sound of distant drums, perhaps they had been tracked from Lerek by a Warband or one of the Sons of Molthal. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the landscape stretching out away from them but as Kol spoke it seemed as though he had reserved a portion of his attention for the Sorcerer.

It seemed to Ormr that the Nordwirr and Nordenfiir may not have been so unlike the Giants. There were Fire Giants, Frost Giants, Stone Giants, Hill Giants and the list went on but they all shared similarities, they were all cousins in a generic sense of the word that diverged from a singular origin. None of them were extremely different.

As the howls and shrieks filled his ears the Half-Giants expression had turned dark until his eyes, pale white had set upon the abominations that the three Raiders had become...

"It appears their gift is not without its cost. If your Gods demand such a sacrifice of their bodies then what do they demand of you for your sorcery?"

...even Eogorath demanded a tithe from the boons he had bestowed upon Ormr and the Half-Giant knew this well. The Aspect of the God he served would take from the Half-Giant what he did not receive and could revoke his blessings if certain tenets went unfulfilled.

Now that the Nordwiir stood before him in their twisted amalgamation that almost reached his towering height Ormr was slightly impressed, surely one of those beastmen might at least proving sporting but that could wait until another time. He looked at the blazing symbol in the chest of one of the abominations then back to Kol...

"Now what?"

...his voice, still a deep rumble was equal parts impatience and curiosity. The Half-Giant was prepared to charge down the plateau and storm the crumbling Keep however the distant drums still nagged at him as well.

 

[Kol]

Kol did not not answer Ormr's question, he only gazed up at the Giant and offered a smile.

The boon of blood. The gift of their oath. That was what the Nordwiir referred to it as. The Skinwolves had their gifts, a might greater than their cousins, a strength that came at the cost of madness and rage and unbridled slaughter.

His price?

Kol glanced towards the cheshire grin that sat within the air to his right, then the one that floated just left of the Giant's head. His eyes lingered there for a brief moment, watching the grin as it slowly split the air.

Unease filled his gullet. "We take the Keep."

The Sorcerer dragged his thoughts forward.

"Then slaughter whatever else comes our way." Determination filled his voice, and almost as though his words were a command, the three transformed men suddenly darted forward in a sprint down the plateau.

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant couldn't see the grin, he had no inclination that anything was or ever had been floating close to one side of his head. If he had known it hardly would have mattered.

The Skinwolves, as the Sorcerer had called them had rushed towards the Keep. Ormr had already forgotten his interest in their gift or what the price Kol paid for his sorcery was. Swinging around he'd have looked down the plateau as the trio darted away...

"At last."

...came the rumbles from the Half-Giant who craved this battle, hungered for this encounter. He did not care if they took the Keep or not only that his cravings would now be sated. As though all fatigue and discomfort brought on by the heat of the Blightlands were forgotten Ormr cracked his neck slowly, rolling his shoulders backwards in the process the launched himself off one foot.

There was no way he would permit a slaughter of any kind that he could not be involved in.

Running down the slope of the plateau, his footfalls sounding like thunder in the distance Ormr rushed towards the Keep on the coat tails of the Skinwolves. Hunching low as he moved the Half-Giant appeared more monstrous, more bestial for all of a moment before his massive hands reached back in unison and pulled the enormous sheathed on his back free.

The Drums in the distance were forgotten. As Kol had indicated, they would kill whatever came their way.

 

[Kol]

The Skinwolves rushed in great loping strides, moving across the open plains before the Keep in a thundering charge.

Horns called from within the Keep, and from his perch atop the Plateau Kol caught sight of an archer upon one of the still standing towers. An arrow loosed, striking the dirt just to the left of one of the abomination wolves. A roar echoed from the twisted Raider, and then he suddenly jumped.

Great muscles propelled the beast through the air, his claws catching on the stone of the tower as his brothers jumped over the wall and among a cadre of Blight Orcs.

That was when the slaughter began.

Panic set into the Blight Orcs, some of them drawing their weapons while others simply began to flee. The Skinwolf that had launched himself at the tower quickly crawled upward, his claws ripping into the stone as he practically jumped up to level of the archer. An arrow buried itself in his shoulder, but before a third could be loosed the Archer found tooth and claw buried in his flesh, gore and viscera flying as he was rent into pieces.

"Go around." He told the the Raiders still with him. "Cut off any escape."

His men quickly nodded, rushing down the slope of the plateau and into battle.

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant trailed behind the Skinwolves, their bodies and the way they moved ensuring they were faster then him as he rushed the Keep at their heels.

Ormr saw when one of the Skinwolves launched itself up the crumbling wall towards the Archer whereas the closer he came to the battle the easier it was to hear the cries of panic mixed with those of outrage. Apparently many of the Blight Orcs would have rather fled than deal with this new threat.

As he stormed the Keep, finding a section of the stone wall that had crumbled so that it was little more than a hill of rock that he could climb over Ormr saw the Skinwolves in the midst of their grisly work. Impressive was a word that would come to mind.

A Blight Orc, seeing the Half-Giant lumber over the crumbled section of wall would charge him with a crazed battle cry. It alerted Ormr who turned to see the Orc thrusting a pike at him savagely. The Sword in his hands swung to deflect the blow and the recovery saw the Half-Giant almost cleave the Orc in half from shoulder to hip. Another Orc would receive a similar fate as Ormr gutted him with the enormous blade.

The Battle was not to be long lived it seemed. Between facing the Skinwolves and the Half-Giant the Blight Orcs seemed at an extreme disadvantage.

An arrow fired by another Archer attempting to stand and fight hammered into Ormr above his left breast causing the Half-Giant to take a step backwards as the barbed tip penetrated his skin. The Half-Giant was stunned momentarily then as his senses recovered he roared, moving further into the midst of the battle.

He couldn't find the Archer who'd shot him but his sword cleaved at least two more Orcs, ripping through flesh and bone in the process of delivering death. The remainder of Orcs were fleeing now, running away to live another day or so they thought...

 

[Kol]

The Blight Orcs fled, broken and afraid of what lay before them.

Perhaps it was the swathing blade of the giant or the rage of the Skinwolves, but the beasts broke and began to flee just as Kol's raiders swept around the Keep. Those that attempted to break away found themselves cut into with axe and sword.

Kol himself moved into the melee, grasping at one of the Blight Orcs and wrenching him to the ground with a hard yank.

The Blight Orc fell to the ground with a hard thud, and as his fellows fell into bloody pulps around The Sorcerer Kol kept a keen eye on the creature he felled. Within mere minutes the once grand fortress fell into the sight of a massacre.

None of it's former occupants survived, the thirty or so Blight Orcs being rent into little more than corpses.

All save for the one Kol still held pinned.

 

[Ormr]

The Battle seemed over before it had even begun. The Half-Giant had cleaved into at least one more Blight Orc but now that things were calming he looked around. He was unsure if the Blight Orcs had even managed to kill any in the minor skirmish noting that the Nordwiir numbers didn't appear diminished.

When Ormr saw the Sorcerer kneeling over a survivor he approached, his stride carrying him easily across the courtyard of the old and crumbling Keep.

As he came closer Ormr would have reached with his right arm, bring it over to his left so that he could grip the arrow still stuck in him by the shaft before pulling it out in a swift jerk of the arm which caused him to grunt in discomfort...

"What's this?"

...he'd have asked Kol as he came closer, eying the prisoner Kol had taken before tossing the arrow bloodied with dark ichor onto the ground indifferently.

The Half-Giant came to stand closer to Kol and the Orc he'd captured, narrowing his eyes as he examined the creature while towering over him. The Sword he'd wielded was still gripped in his left hand, the blade dirty with the blood of the Orcs comrades. He'd turn the blade in his hold and plant it into the ground near the Orc...

"If this was the best that Molthal can muster I doubt we have much to worry about."

...though his voice showed no indication of it perhaps that was Ormr's attempt at levity, rare and fleeting as they were before his attention had once again divided between the Orc and Kol. Now that he'd tasted battle, even fleeting Ormr appeared more stable than he had been...

"What do you think this wretch can tell you? He probably doesn't even know why he was here."

 

[Kol]

"You are probably right in that." Kol admitted to the Giant as he peered down towards the Blight Orc.

The captive was now squirming against his foot, overcoming his fear of the Sorcerer through the sheer terror of what might come next. A whistle echoed through the Keep, and one of the skinwolves slowly trotted over towards Kol.

Without any hesitation it grabbed the orc, piercing his flesh with it's claws and dragging him to his feet. A pained howl escaped from the man, but Kol ignored it.

"But he need not speak." The Sorcerer said as he stepped up to the Orc and placed his knife against his eye. "Only have witnessed."

With three quick swiped of the Rune Blade Kol carved out the Orcs eye, peeling it from the socket and dropping it into his palm. Instantly he raised it, setting the eye in front of his own.

A flash of memories flooded through his sight, and out of the corner of his gaze he spotted another grin on the air.

Within seconds he spoke again. "These are an advanced party."

Kol muttered.

"It seems molthal is moving east." More defenses? Had Menalus seen him coming?

 

[Ormr]

The Half-Giant only watched as the Skinwolf seized the Orc, who was soon howling in pain while Kol stepped closer to him.

When the eye was cut out and the Sorcerer used his magic to see what the Orc had seen Ormr watched silently his expression changing to one which appeared mildly disapproving. It was not the first time he had looked at Kol in such a fashion. Likely the Half-Giant just did not understand the Dark Magic of his companion, amongst the Frost Giants he had seen others divine things using the runes and other methods but they seemed less---involved.

As the Sorcerer explained the flash of memories that he had witness Ormr shifted his stance. Outstretching his arm he'd pull his sword from the ground and swing it back over his shoulder so that he could sheath it across his back again...

"Then we shall send a message to Molthal."

...the rumble of his voice became a dull roar then as he declared his thoughts...

"They've no idea we've taken this Keep and slaughtered their advanced party. When they arrive the ground could run red with the blood of the Sons of Molthal."

...after all Kol had said they could take the Keep and then slaughter whatever else came their way. That said the Half-Giant was a hunter and not without his cunning on occasion. Narrowing his eyes he regarded the Sorcerer then stated as another thought came to mind....

"Unless---"

....he rumbled, his voice becoming incoherent momentarily...

"Unless we could make it to the banks of the Drawa River with them at our heels. Perhaps you could finally put that shard of yours to good use and open the new path into the Blightlands that you've promised, using it to swallow those at our backs in the process."

...magic or not surely such a deed would be worthy of legend and Eogorath would be pleased.

 

[Fain]

The drumbeat struck up again, far closer this time. Shapes appeared moving through the blight, growing larger as they neared the Keep.

Warg riders, at least several dozen.

 

[Kol]

Kol considered the giants words.

The tactics of it were ingenious, but it meant that they would be moving with an army at their heels. From what he'd seen in the Orcs vision, their number were many times that of Kol's own raiders. Would they be able to hold out?

Repairing the Keep might help, but even then The Sorcerer doubted they would be a match. Ormr and the Skin Wolves might kill many times their number, but against hundreds that would mean little. "Yes."

Kol agreed with a smile.

"We will have to move fast." He told the giant. "Faster than before."

Slowly he gazed towards the west. "But we will drown them, and slaughter those who do not."

Then his head turned as a whistle echoed in the distance, his lips thinning for a brief moment as he spotted the Wolves on the Horizon. "We may need to kill them first."

Another portion of the army? Or something else?

 

[Ormr]

The threat of an overwhelming force did not make him shirk. Death was a constant companion. If they were faced with the forces of Molthal the Half-Giant would fight as his lust for battle demanded though that did not mean he would throw his life away, especially not for the Nordwiir.

A malevolent smile touched the corners of his mouth when the Sorcerer agreed with his plan. It was a plan that demanded some concessions on his part, Ormr was not one to use sorcery but his rage would sate itself on those that were not drown.

"It may mean leaving some of your raiders behind."

...the Half-Giant stated clearly, the strong would survive but the rest would be left in the dust and likely consumed by the Orcs that pursued them.

The Drums, closer than they had been the first time drew his attention again and a heavy stride would carry the Half-Giant to a section of the crumbling wall where he could see shapes moving across the Blight, growing larger as they drew closer...

"We will kill them."

...he assured Kol, the Warg Riders appeared to number at least as many as the Raiders that remained so that battle would be fierce. Many of them would die, the others would be bloodied.

 

[Fain]

The warg riders drew up before the keep, their mounts snarling, smelling the freshly spilled blood. One among their number urged his warg forward. The burly orc wore only hide pants and shoes, his chest bare and painted. Bone piercings protruded from his nose and ears. In his right hand he carried a small and well-weighted axe, in the left a long knife. He held these out to either side and bellowed up at the keep’s crumbled stone.

“Come out and face me, jotunn. I have seen your shape against the sky. Now I will put you in the earth.”

 

[Kol]

Kol considered the words for a brief moment, glancing at the Skin Wolves and then to Ormr.

It appeared that whomever lead the wargs wanted a personal challenge. A frown touched the Sorcerer's lips. Did he want to leave the Frost Giant behind? The idea was slightly appealing, but in the back of his head a voice whispered.

Why throw away such an asset. "You will want to fight."

It was not a question. He had come to understand the Half-Giant over the last weeks, and he doubted the man would ever deny such a challenge.

A frown touched Kol's lips.

"Do as you most." He told Ormr.

The raiders would have time to get away, but Kol would not abandon what he knew would be helpful. No. He would take the Skinwolves and circle the plateau. Strike the wargs when they were consumed with their duel.

Honorable? No.

But Kol had never claimed to be so.

 

[Ormr]

Ormr's only response to the Sorcerer was to turn his head so that Kol could see his eyes, narrowed and white it seemed as though he was regarding his companion for a moment then he stepped forward, moving over the crumbling section of the wall that surrounded the Keep without hesitation.

Whatever the Nordwiir did at this point was their business.

As he moved over the crumbling wall, out onto the Blight towards the assembled Warg Riders the Half-Giant would lift his right hand, passing it back over his shoulder until he clutched the hilt of the enormous sword that rested there and drew it easily. Another creature would have called such a weapon a two-handed sword but to Ormr managed the weight in one hand effortlessly.

He came to a point where he could meet the leader of the Warg Riders across a divide, eyes still narrowed and white hair catching across his features as it hung down over him...

"Your blood will feed the land, Orc."

...fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as he flexed them, furred gauntlets with finger holes stitched together from animal hide and worked with several distinct bones over the knuckles rode up to his forearms. Once he'd made his reply he merely started walking towards the Orc, seated on his Warg or not.