Open Chronicles Fire from the spine, smoke darkens the sky

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Mabess

Mother, Clanswoman, Chieftain of the Stormcallers
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The Spine, north-east of the inner valley. Early fall.

Columns of smoke rose above the red-crowned forest and into the blue sky, enveloping it in white and grey smoke. There was no wind, and the smoke only lingered in the air, even after the fires had long gone out.

The clashing of iron tools, the grunts of workers and burdens of beasts, the felling of trees all muffled the life of the woodlands; No birdsong, screeching of mountain eagles, howls or grouse calls could be heard.
The sound of labour reached far and wide.

Mabess could not yet smile. Her feet would take her along the newly made clearing. Tender ash underneath Mabess' feet would depress under her weight. The pungent smell of burnt wood filled her nostrils as she inhaled deeply. Mabess stood still like an oak, eyes closed and arms crossed.
Seeming as if she were in a meditative trance.
Yes, she said to herself, feeling the ash in the air. Death; It was a fertile goddess that brought forth the birth of a new settlement. And like any child reared into the world, the village too will be named once done. As chieftain of the ashlanders, this honour was her's.
Mashkaroth. That sounds right. She pondered in her mind. But this was enough idling from her today, she snapped and hollered at her men: »Rein the barghests and haul the debris away!« Mabess clapped to encourage her tribesmen to work. »I want the clearing flat and clean before sundown!«

--

The work would continue throughout the day under the passive guidance of the village elders. It was true that Mabess was chieftain of the tribe, but the elders made the brunt of the consulting, especially with the spirits and gods on all daily matters, including hunting routes and the constructing of new settlements.
The firepits have been dug out, and now the first two feet of the houses were being lined with packed dirt walls.


Mabess for a moment stepped back, admiring her growing settlement. Her ears were deaf for all but the buzzing of her workers.
 
Inodeirr shifted impatiently as Scabhair sighted the small cwm below for the third time. “Thoc, tu leabh mabhr.” She rubbed her sides for good measure, but the beast yet growled her inconsolable displeasure.

“Ontagh.”

Scabhair slid off her back with a sigh and landed in the chips of chopped timber. Rowan and pine stumps ahead provided little cover, and so the pair had hung back in the woods woven of dark conifer branches.

The lioness made a satisfied noise as she flopped down on the soft blanket of fallen leaves and needles. There was a particular smugness about the way she licked her chops, but the half-orc was too busy appraising the situation at the bottom of the valley to pay any attention to the beast.

With the recent increase in preying on the southern passes over the Spine, Duarde had asked her to find a safer path further north.

Problem was, further north meant more snow, higher mountains, and steeper slopes. No doubt the ranger knew that too, but the Merchant Council was probably breathing down his neck about the drop in profit. The captain was as solid as humans came, and Scabhair felt sorry enough for the guy to press on longer than she normally would.

After several weeks’ ride along the alpine treeline, a low dip in the frosted peaks finally showed some promise. She’d scaled the side in long, winding arcs, setting up camp in whatever nooks and crannies she could find as shelter from the whipping winds.

And now she was here, and clearly this was inhabited. By whom, she couldn’t yet say. The swarming dots were too far even for her keen eyes to distinguish. Maybe if she was downwind, Inodeirr could tell her more with a swipe of her tongue through the air.

“Feghir chig, raicleach lesceil.” A futile directive, but Scabhair was a persistent woman. Drawing her patchwork coat tight, the orc began a slow approach towards the nascent settlement. If those were bandits setting up camp for the winter, they had a problem.
 
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As one would approach, the sounds of labour were soon intermingled with the playful yips and shrieks of children. From the youngest till the oldest, all seeming to find excitement in this new location.
---

Weary elders had begun to pick some of the ashes off the ground. They had been busy preparing for a ritual now. Certain items were still lacking, notably a carcass of a forest beast and some native moss. So for now, the elders would wait and pray to appease the local spirits, in part for forgiveness for the claimed land and in part to ask some of them to protect their settlement. Their answer will only be known later.

Mabess took charge of all the rest. » Have Ubabe and Hyorhal gone hunting already or are they still hiding around?« She'd lowly mutter at a companion orc that was setting up the curved, wooden house frames with Mab.
»They've already left. Hadn't you noticed?«
»With my hands busy and only a single pair of eyes...« She chuckled.
 
Weeks. It had been weeks since Weylin had begun to look for any settlement. The wilds around the Spine did not bother him much, it was his home after all, but he had no expected the emptiness of it all. Sure his father and mother had both talked about how isolated and lost the now gone settlements of his were out here, but he hadn't expected it to be this lonesome. A lifetime being only a few days from other people at any time left him now understanding just how valuable a road or even a simple path was.

As Weylin tried to get his barrings straightened, Snow pushed her head into his hip. The mountain dogs were tall, bulky, and resembled more the cross between a wolf and a bear than what people in flatter and cooler places would expect of a dog. Idly he scratched behind her ear. She was hungry and this was her way of telling him. He was too. His eyes drifted down to his quiver hanging loosely from his hip. The strips holding it to his belt were nearly worn away. Good thing he only had two arrows left.... He only had two arrows left. That wasn't good odds for them finding a meal right now.

The deer had migrated further south and the streams were either too shallow or too violent for any fish, aside from those tricky trouts. He didn't have the properly pole and bait to catch one of them though, so it wasn't worth thinking about despite how fat and juicy their delicious meat would be this time of year....

Weylin had to lightly slap his own face. His demanding stomach was trying to take over his head. Berries and nuts might work for him, although he would have to take awhile collecting enough to be filling, but they wouldn't for Snow. He needed a kill to feed her. Hares, squirrels, and birds were difficult to shoot though and he wasn't sure if he could afford to stop and set up snares. Every shadow still seemed to contain one of those raiders waiting for him to let his guard down. He knew they weren't, but his eyes and ears just wouldn't believe it. He could even still smell the scent of fire and blood at times....

Wait, he was smelling fire right now. Weylin came out of his thoughts and began to sniff the air. It was faint but the scent of smoke was there. He patted Snow as he searched the sky for any signs of where it was coming from. There. He smiled cautiously. Where there was smoke there was people, usually. "Food Snow. Come on." He said in a hushed voice to her. How little had he spoken over these past few weeks? It did not matter. There was smoke and a chance for food waiting ahead.

Mabess Scabhair
 
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Higher on the slopes of the nearby Spine, a lone fire gave off only smoke as the lone figure seated before it finished heating the meal of mountain goat he was going to eat. The same had been dinner the night before, but that wasn't so unusual for those on the hunt than it was for softer folk in the cities. His mount was chomping on some oats from the store he kept in the saddle pack, which Rhaef had traded for in the last village they had passed through a few days earlier.

All morning, he had watched smoke rise from a clearing in the valley below him, though not from a wildfire. This smoke was methodical, and came with the felling of trees to widen the clearing more and more. To his eyes, it appeared to be someone setting up a camp or settlement of some type.

The Tribes of the Taiga made no claims to the land, those that settled and those that roamed understood the teachings of Yaelos, all things were impermanent, creation, life, destruction, all was cyclical.

Still, Rhaef had undertaken his journey away from the Tribes in order to see more of the world than he had. His curiosity was drawing him to see what was going on in the valley.

Once his goat meat was cooked enough for him, he doused the fire with earth and scattered the rock circle he had made around the fire. You could still tell this had been a camping site, but it was closer to what it had been before this way. Meat in hand, and his mount walking beside him, Rhaef made his way down the valley wall towards the clearing and it's burgeoning settlement. He had no ill intent, and so made no move to make a discreet approach. The form of him and his horse were likely visible from the clearing as they walked down the slope if they had any watchers about.

 
Hath had wanted to see the mountains again. He had not necessarily wanted to climb them again. Scabhair and Inoheirr were more agile than he was over the steep, uneven stretches of track. The lion in particular seemed to pad across the landscape and every obstacle as if it wasn't a few hundred kilograms of muscle. At least he'd been good for chopping wood. He only used one axe for that, the same one he fought with. Hath didn't know what magic had been bestowed upon its keen edge, but at the very least he never had to sharpen it.

It was good to have firewood. Especially with the cold becoming more biting as they moved higher above the steppes. He wasn't used to the cold. Back at home the nights rarely got cold on the savannah and in winter they retreated to their tribe settlement on the edges of Falwood. He found he kept having to draw his fur lined coat right around his neck.

Coming up behind Scabhair he grunted and pointed to the far side of the valley. The outline of a rider was a dark shape making its way down towards the camp. Hath thought it might be a sensible time to string his bow. Just in case it was a camp with guards who might, for any reason, take umbridge with a pair of orcs taking a closer look.
 
There were a few appreciable benefits to scouting with a fellow orc as opposed to… well, anyone else. The chief among them was the silence. CitiesElbion, Alliria, Guancano, Fal’Addas – plenty of differences on the surface, but in essence they were all the same.

Loud. Obscenely so. Merchants and citizens and travellers, all of them pushing and shoving in their own direction, yelling to sell, yelling to buy, yelling just because.

Scabhair had come from the solitary quietude of the Taagi Baara, where people still knew how to keep their mouth shut and their eyes open.

So she merely nodded as Hath pointed out the rider, and tipped her own chin in the direction of another silhouette a ways lower down the slope, almost at the mouth of the little valley. A lot of traffic for what appeared to be a settlement still under construction.

Probably scouts.

She ran a comforting hand over the fletching at her side, counting at the back of her mind as she continued their descent at a more gradual pace. It would give them time to see what the new arrivals were up to – and how the villagers might respond.

Hath Charosh | Weylin Kyrel | Rhaef | Mabess
 
As busy as the settlement was when the house ceilings were finally erected, some of the members held a more patient gaze upon the surrounding area. And It was quick for some to spot distant figures approaching the camp.

Rhaef Weylin Kyrel

Eventually it was pointed out to Mabess, who gazed her eyes first upon the one with a horse. Seemed peaceful enough. And if anyone came with ill intent, The Ashlandes had numbers on their side..
The Chieftain would switch her tongue to the most common human one of the region before hollering at the strangers.
"Greetings travelers, this is the Ashlander tribe."


A small child that played among the timber at the very edges of the camp.
It must be Ubabe and Hyorhal... But as the child ran to the two, he soon noticed their facade was unlike the two that went hunting. They were Scabhair and Hath Charosh. But ofcouse to the child they were only strangers.
 
Scabhair Mabess

Hath dropped to his haunches, but kept a hand on the handle of his axe. Just because these were children did not mean that there were not fully grown orcs who would treat them as hostile. Back home when food was scarce raiding other tribes became a regular activity.

Hath grinned. A terrifying prospect to a human. It had been a long time since he had seen young ones at play. The tiny ones fighting over the scraps during his tribe's stay at their winter settlement always amused him.

"Any fully blooded from your tribe nearby, young one?" he said quietly. He tried to be as friendly as possible. If good was plentiful there was a chance of a good meal and stories around a fire. If it was a scarce there was a much greater chance of himself and Scabhair running away back up the valley very shortly.
 
"Fair weather, Ashlander tribe." Rhaef returned the greeting. One hand held the reins of his horse, and the other hung by his side, away from any of his weapons. These were strangers to him, and he was outnumbered if it came to a battle. The best course was to ensure no battle ensued. "I am Rhaef of the Taiga Tribes. I'm walking the world for a turn or three, and just happened by this valley." Rhaef continued, he kept his eyes on Mabess, unsure whether he'd be welcome or not. There were Orcs among the Tribes of the Taiga, but outsiders sometimes had stricter views on community purity. He didn't want to seem like he was scouting the place.

 
It seemed like years since she'd started traveling but it had been less than a month since she first left Alliria. She was accompanied by a young mare, a satchel full of rations and a change of underwear, and her own weapons. Water wasn't scarce but Taurus felt like she should trust the water sources here, they could be poisoned. She heard that orc tribes dwelled in these parts and she wasn't sure if they'd like her kind.

But now she was thirsty and when she held her canteen to her lips, she only felt the tiniest drop of moisture grace her chapped lips and she sighed in exasperation. The horse had found streams and ponds to gulp from but still she didn't trust them.

Taurus continued on for quite some while before she heard some noises ahead. Silently slipping of the horse, she snuck up the small hill and lay in the grass, observing the scene before her. It seemed like a man was speaking to an orc tribe. She frowned; why didn't they just kill him?
 
"Many, There are many!" The child replied, pointing at the clearing ahead. "I'm Mwakara, and you are big!"

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"Chieftain of the Ashlanders, Mabess."
The she-orc explained, opening up her arms as a welcoming gesture. "The great steppe of the west? You are far away from home, Rhaef," her voice rumbled lowly, yet warmly. She was a lady in the ending years of her prime, but still held youthful gleam in her eyes and brown hair. "If you are a well intentioned man, you are welcome within the camp perimeters,"
 
"Mabess, it is an honor to meet you." He replied, "nay, I am from the plains to the north, and have yet to see the Steppe of the west. I do plan to make it there, and elsewhere, though." He continued, his smile genuine as he nodded to her welcoming gesture.

"I am, indeed, well intentioned. I have nothing to trade, but I can aid your hunters and laborers if you need." He truly didn't have any need nor reason to stay, except for the company of people. His horse was a fine beast, but he did not have the facility to understand them as some of the Tribes did, and so the beast made a horrible conversation partner. He intended to walk the world for a while, and it made perfect sense to him to gain friendships in that time.
 
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