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WEST OF THE SOUTHERN TIP OF THE SPINE
Hath tried to breathe slow and deep as the shaman wove the thick thread through his chest. The barbed naga blade had left a ragged wound. It was better than most had come awat with. Gurresh's body was slowly sinking into the mud just a few metres away.
The naga had attacked at first light with a hail of poison tipped arrows. Those had come from geckan. Small, goblin sized lizards who typically lived in caves but seemed to have been pressed into service by the naga.
Hath had stuck a few of them in return before the naga had charged. The snake people had crossed the soft ground quicker than a man could run. The largest had drawn themselves up to nearly eight feet in height and they had worn crudely made armour. That had been discussed at length. Apparently none of the surviving orcs had seen them wearing armour before.
The naga were strange creatures. They had only recently been seen in these lands. They made no attempt to trade or communicate, nor did they send large forces to invade. They raided, stealing people and wares and taking them back towards the Ixchel wilds. At least none of this group had allowed themselves to be captured alive.
"There," the shaman said, tying off the thread. "The others are gathering to decide what to do next. On your feet."
With a grunt he stood tall, mentally pushed the pain and exhaustion aside. Many of those leading the group were already dead, but he knew what they would be discussing. They had one choice to make.
They either continued to Ulru'zkahld and admitted to the elders of Bhathairk and a dozen other tribes that they had lost the Staff of Uroghosh or they followed a naga raiding party through the southern pass into the wilds. A group they had no chance of defeating in a straight fight. He suspected they would unanimously choose the latter.
No one even knew if the staff was real. Certainly it was a very old item, imbued with shamanistic magic to make it last for a very long time. Orcs were very rarely concerned with artefacts, but it had become traditions to take it from Bhathairk to Ulru'zkahld every eight years. One for each of Uroghosh's children. Many tribes came together peacefully to honour the oldest stories. Even his own, from far to the west had attented several times. The staff itself was afforded an honour guard from across the tribes for the journey. And now it was lost.
OOC:
Open to all orcs. Might be a multi-parter.
Picking ourselves up and heading on a journey east of the spine into dangerous lands to retrieve the artefact.
Hath tried to breathe slow and deep as the shaman wove the thick thread through his chest. The barbed naga blade had left a ragged wound. It was better than most had come awat with. Gurresh's body was slowly sinking into the mud just a few metres away.The naga had attacked at first light with a hail of poison tipped arrows. Those had come from geckan. Small, goblin sized lizards who typically lived in caves but seemed to have been pressed into service by the naga.
Hath had stuck a few of them in return before the naga had charged. The snake people had crossed the soft ground quicker than a man could run. The largest had drawn themselves up to nearly eight feet in height and they had worn crudely made armour. That had been discussed at length. Apparently none of the surviving orcs had seen them wearing armour before.
The naga were strange creatures. They had only recently been seen in these lands. They made no attempt to trade or communicate, nor did they send large forces to invade. They raided, stealing people and wares and taking them back towards the Ixchel wilds. At least none of this group had allowed themselves to be captured alive.
"There," the shaman said, tying off the thread. "The others are gathering to decide what to do next. On your feet."
With a grunt he stood tall, mentally pushed the pain and exhaustion aside. Many of those leading the group were already dead, but he knew what they would be discussing. They had one choice to make.
They either continued to Ulru'zkahld and admitted to the elders of Bhathairk and a dozen other tribes that they had lost the Staff of Uroghosh or they followed a naga raiding party through the southern pass into the wilds. A group they had no chance of defeating in a straight fight. He suspected they would unanimously choose the latter.
No one even knew if the staff was real. Certainly it was a very old item, imbued with shamanistic magic to make it last for a very long time. Orcs were very rarely concerned with artefacts, but it had become traditions to take it from Bhathairk to Ulru'zkahld every eight years. One for each of Uroghosh's children. Many tribes came together peacefully to honour the oldest stories. Even his own, from far to the west had attented several times. The staff itself was afforded an honour guard from across the tribes for the journey. And now it was lost.
OOC:
Open to all orcs. Might be a multi-parter.
Picking ourselves up and heading on a journey east of the spine into dangerous lands to retrieve the artefact.
