Open Chronicles Breaking A Spine

[Jason Chronicles]

A dark elf emerged, but Khurash did little more than throw her a glance. If she wished to join their fire than she was welcome. Tonight they might share a horn of mead. Tomorrow he might slit her throat on a raid. Such was the way of all things.

He turned back to the she-orc, shaven brows lowering over deepset eyes, that roved up and down her comely form.

"Yes," Khurash nodded in approval, the broad grin still splitting thick lips in a terrifying smile, "I wander beneath the moons, elf. I move from band to band. Seven scalps and four torcs I've taken since the last waning. But no skulls worth having."

He tugged at the braids hanging on his belt.

The warrior led his warg toward the grassy area Zeri had indicated and they reached it in short time.

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Yes," she grunted, though it was more the pitch that was affirmative than any actual articulation. Her gaze moved back to the orc, looking at him a bit closer. "My mother has spoken of you before."

Hath gave a small nod when she confirmed it. He sat down and looked back down the slope. The smaller orc was heading this way too, along with the dark elf.

He did not think they were often seen on the surface, but Hath knew survival in the savanna far more than the behaviours of elven species.

"And who is your mother?" he asked. He tried to feign disinterest in who might have spoken of him. He did a bad job of it.

 

[Zeri Rekani]

They walked along, off of the road and toward the hill from which Zeri had come and the small grassy area she had seen and traversed earlier. She shifted the weight of her pack a little as she walked, the size of the pack almost disproportionate compared to her short and slim frame. She'd been on long hunts with her Pa before, trekked for miles and miles through flat plains and unruly wilderness, even worked to condition herself to carrying around a heavy pack when she had the time, but she'd be lying if she didn't admit that it always felt good to take the cumbersome load off of her shoulders.

As they walked, Khurash answered the dark elf--Zathria--first. And Zeri brought a hand bashfully up to her chin and shyly looked down and off to one side, quietly enamored with his response. A wandering warrior! Here! And Zeri had met him! Yes, there were of course plenty of warriors both local and from afar in Bhathairk. Some were old, and many told of battles whose happening was well removed from the telling. But Khurash had (ohgosh) been in battle as recently as the moon's last waning!

And here, of course, Zeri once again on a subconscious level divorced the storybook glory and cleanness of a battle told in tale to one seen or participated in for real. This, despite only a matter of moments ago being shocked at the mild violence witnessed on the mountain road.

Then Zeri answered Zathria herself: "I had come to the Spine to collect a special flower for the Council of Elders in Bhathairk. An Edelweiss, it's called in Common. I, um...w-well I should be going back home now that I have one. But I just--I just!--I really wanted to stay! Just stay for another couple of days or so in the beauty of the Spine. It can't hurt, right? It can't hurt. Of course it can't. No way, ha ha...ha...please don't tell my Ma and Pa."

She scratched at the back of her neck and her eyes shifted nervously and then she pointed out the obvious to change the subject.

"Hey, there! There's a good spot. Some open flat ground."

Zeri went to it and dropped her big pack from off of her back and gave a relived sigh. Always felt good. She cast a curious glance off to Hath and Bula, wondering if the other two orcs would join them eventually, then she went about collecting some rocks. Cradled her collection in her arms and brought it to center of the small clearing and arranged them to make the beginnings of a fire pit.

She thought about asking Khurash if she could...maybe...possibly...see those four torcs he'd spoken of. But her nervousness got the better of her, and she instead looked to Zathria. Asked as she continued to place the rocks in a loose circle for the fire pit.

"Are you a long way from home, Zathria? I-I don't mean to be rude! I'm just...just curious. My Pa is an elf. He came quite a long way from Falwood to Bhathairk, so...yeah, I'm curious."

And her hair was gorgeous! Who styled it for her? Did she do it herself? Did dark elves have hair artisans or something? Maybe she'd let Zeri touch it if the question was posed nicely enough.

Khurash Zathria At'Arel Hath Charosh Bula

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

They began to walk and Zathria followed the lead of the female orc. She hadn't broken her own camp long ago, so her pack didn't seem to weigh heavily on her shoulders yet for which she was thankful. She watched the group interact with one another, noting the interesting tensions between surfacers. She didn't fail to notice the leering gaze of one of the males at the woman, and found herself once again baffled that surfacers females allowed that.

The male seemed to have done well for himself killing, and that was something she could understand. The dark elves did similar raids at times for many reasons. He worked from band to band rather than for a single group, though.

A mercenary, then? she asked. Some drow - particularly popular among the males - found employment as mercenaries fighting from house to house. It wasn't a foreign concept to her.

She listened as Zeri explained what she was doing out here as well and quirked an eyebrow. A long journey for a flower? Was it part of some potent potion or a component of a spell? If so, Zathria would like to know where to find such a plant.

And what does an Edelweiss do? she asked inquisitively. She'd never even heard of the plant before, let alone knew what purpose they could serve.

She began to help in building the fire, collecting dead branches to place within the confines of the stones. Zathria considered bringing up the topic of hunting extra meat for their dinner, but said nothing yet.

I'm from a city near Bhathairk, she said. My people have not been to Falwood... she paused. The dark elves and Falwood were not on the best of terms. Or at least they hadn't been when they parted in war a very, very long time ago.

...in recent memory, she added before deciding this may not have been the topic she wanted to remain on.

What brought your father to Bhathairk? she asked instead, gently steering the conversation away from the elven kingdom in question.

Zeri Rekani Khurash Hath Charosh Bula

 

[Bula]

Bula didn't expect conversation. She didn't have much of a desire for it either, and yet here it was in the form of another orc. An oddly thin one, but one nonetheless. The crunch of road beneath the foot of the others as they ascended the hill brought her attention back to the road, just off of which she'd settled upon the hill. Her gaze remained on them as she answered Hath simply:

"Mabess."

The shaman's gaze moved back toward him, single eye watching for his reaction. She suspected it might be information he was already privy to, but without him saying as much there was little the she-orc could do.

 

[Hath Charosh]

Bula

"Ah," replied Hath. "I had thought I had met all of the daughters."

Mabess seemed to keep a harem of husbands. He had met several daughters. His attention had been taken up by the schism. Mabess had lost her full authority across the various tribes.

And then they had all been pulled into pandemonium. He had been through hell itself, possessed by a demon and travelled across half the continents to have it removed. Even now the dark marks where it had pierced his should still marred his skin.

"That was some time ago," he said. He then turned to silently checking through his arrows. Occasionally watching the treeline for danger. He was an orc and frequently a lone scout. He didn't need to fill the silence with words to pass the time like a human.

 

[Bula]

“Thought is given too much credit,” Bula said, her words somehow gentle despite the guttural nature of their native tongue. Her accented words only served to support her claim. Though she spoke little, there was no doubt that she came from Mabess’s clan.

“When?” the shaman asked simply, wondering if he measured his time in months or years. Not that it mattered; Bula was more akin to what the humans called a wallflower, albeit a very ugly one by the standards of most human men. It was possible that they had met in passing; anything was possible, considering how many of her memories had become a murky mess during her pilgrimage.

Hath Charosh

 

[Crows Call]

The warrior-poet and Heinrich discussed long on how to get assistance from the local orcs, as they would never fallow a man for honors sake, nor out of fear. Perhaps out of greed? They considered the possibility of going with a trading caravan to one of the orc villages and opening a mercenary contract with them. After all, the blooded orcs head camp had quite a bit to plunder for those who sought it.

It was settled, the ranger and the specter (clinging to his sword in miasmic from) joined with a band of roaming traders heading for an orc tribe not associated with the clans that the ranger and the specter had committed more than a few transgressions towards. Hopefully by day break the caravan would reach these orcs...

 

[Crows Call]

It was nightfall, Hienrich and the caravan of sixty-some merchants now approached an orc camp. Expecting a violent reaction given the theft and act of weakness shown by one the traders, the caravan stopped in front of the wooded barricades that served as walls for the camp.

The head trader hailed the orc gate Guard that stood on a wooded platform and asked for Bula, as he had gifted her a quiver of master work arrows a couple of months ago, which had gotten them a trade agreement with these orcs in the first place. The head merchant had hoped that if there was now bad blood between the orcs and the merchants he could lean on his good deed to re-open the trade agreement.

The gate guard scoffed, but reluctantly agreed. It appears the actions of that miscreant merchant had left a fairly bad impression on the orcs in this camp, hopefully this 'Bula' could get them in to begin the trades, and may happenstance, some soldiers of fortune...

Bula Hath Charosh Zathria At'Arel Zeri Rekani Khurash

 

[Hath Charosh]

“When?”

"Before the demons came," he grunted. It was an anchor far more fixed in the timeline than the passage of the moons.

Mabess had lost much of her sway within the wider tribes just before the crimson mists spread around the base of the mountains.

"You were there then?" he asked plainly. In a mixed group, Hath decided that the member of a friendly tribe was the closest thing to an ally.

 

[Bula]

"I was not," Bula answered, but she showed no intention of divulging where she might have been. The she-orc wasn't there when Hath assisted with the gnoll invasion, either. Of all Mabess's children, Bula was the least known among strangers. She was often gone from their home, communing with their ancestors. The very same that called out to her now.

Distance within the veil wasn't the same as it was among the living. Night was falling, and Bula knew that she wouldn't make it home tonight. The shaman glanced over her shoulder, beyond Zeri and Zathria to where the other orcs stood. A frown weighed her lips around the ivory of her tusks.

"I will not remain to break bread with these strangers," Bula announced. She sounded distracted. "If your words are true, then you are welcome to join me."

The Camp

The guard returned and called down to the caravan, "You may set up outside our camp tonight. But you will wait until morning to meet with her."

What he didn't relay was that Bula wasn't there. They would have to wait for her to return.

 

[Crows Call]

The response of the guard wiped the false smile off the caravan masters face. He turned back to his caravan and ordered them to start setting up camp for the night.

The ranger and the specter grew uneasy at this, for this could easily go from waiting to having their necks slit in the night, but as they were in essence masquerading as a merchant they couldn't exactly do much else but wait less they blow their cover. However it did give Hienrich a chance to relax in relative safety and the Warrior-Poet the rare joy of being in the presence of the living as they roamed, talked, ate, and slept. It was a certain calm before the storm...

Bula Hath Charosh Zathria At'Arel Zeri Rekani Khurash

 

[Hath Charosh]

"I will not remain to break bread with these strangers," Bula announced. She sounded distracted. "If your words are true, then you are welcome to join me.

Hath turned his gaze to the mixed brigade that had met on the path. He tried to be more tolerant of outsiders, but his trust did not extend very far when it came to the dark elves.

"Very well," Hath replied. "Though you should probably tell me where you are going...when we are beyond earshot."

He tried half a smile at that, just to see if she would reciprocate. For one of Mabess' family she seemed to take herself very seriously.

 

[Bula]

"Very well," Hath replied. "Though you should probably tell me where you are going...when we are beyond earshot."

A smile didn't belong on Bula's scarred face, and when Hath managed the half-smile, the one-eyed she-orc appeared perplexed. Nonetheless, her lips twitched in a poor attempt at smiling back. It was too human an emotion to express by the shaman's standards. When they were out of earshot, she glanced sideways at Hath.

"To our camp," Bula answered. She didn't feel the need to explain any further than that. Night fell as they walked. In the distance, the campfires licked the night sky. She could see shapes that made up the caravan. Her brow furrowed slightly and she glanced back at Hath. The shaman appeared uneasy. "Guests."

 

[Zeri Rekani]

((OOC: I think Zathria and Khurash may have exited, stage left. So Zeri's kinda flapping in the wind ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ))

 

[Hath Charosh]

"Guests?" he asked, but the scout soon caught sight of them.

There was the orc camp itself. Basic and fairly spread out, but with some protection. They didn't build like the humans did. Hath was glad of the fact that they didn't tear the world apart and mold it to their whims like the humans did.

The wagons beyond the orc camp were not theirs. Fires were being lit there as well. Hath dropped to his front slowly and watched carefully.

"You were not expecting this?" he asked.

Bula Crows Call