Open Chronicles Trouble Brewing

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Durzub

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The Spine | Somewhere in a forest

Greenery was everywhere as spring had just started, the trees full of small little growths of new life. Birds were singing a calling song, along with a courus of other birds singing different but similar songs.

Several footsteps however ruined the natural silence of heavy armor and grunting breaths

Move it! Keep up pace!

An intimidating figure was standing infront of the pack of orcs, leading them towards a unmarked path along the woods.
One of the orcs move besides the intimidating figure.

Durzub, we have walked since dawn, the men are tired, perhaps we should rest

Rest?, hmmm

The orc grumbles under his breath as he looks around his terrain

Fine! Find us a good spot to camp, we will rest for a while.

The other orcs become relived and start sitting down after walking for so long, putting down their weapons and opening their bags for a snack. Several who are wounded from a previous engagement are tending to their wounds while the more agile take up positions in the trees surrounding where the orcs are gathered. Finally even the black plated one sits down and starts drinking from his water-skin.
 
Zilge Wothag, the previous orc sits next towards Durzub, facing his captain.

So were are we headed?

There is a village nearby

Owned by orcs?

Durzub wipes his face after drinking from his water-skin

Should be, last time I checked. Should't be difficult convincing some the tribe to join us.

And after that? Back to raiding?

Raiding? No I think not untill we have a stronger force before, and probaly not dwarves for a while.

We could have had more with us if you didn't kill our last leader.

A leader that dishonored tradition, attacking and stealing whenever, from whoever. Including his own kind! I would have not followed such a leader! I do not regret killing him, even though it was in the middle of a battle. Even though his death caused many to desert on sight, let them rot for all I care! No orc should steal from the sacred places, not our sacred places.

Zilge becomes silent as his eyes go to watch something else, he dosnt seam to have the same cool he had a moment ago.The forest is calm as the orcs discuss with each-other, recoup, and have drinks of water and blood-wine. Above the agile orcs have positioned themselves with their bows, in case there is any disturbances approaching the temporally camp.
 
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Rysa officially declared herself a fool. She had gone to the spine in search of sulfur because she did not know of another place to begin looking for the substance. She wondered if Jonathan was even still waiting for her return. Yet here she stood. Behind a tree. Hoping she was unseen by the legion of orcs that just discussed the murder of another as if it were a typical conversation.

"Why do I always find myself in these situations?" she murmured to herself.

Carefully, very carefully, she glanced over the side of the tree to get a better view of the orcs. She can't remember the last time she saw an orc or if she ever did. Rysa thanked her amnesia for that.

The elf found herself looking over a camp. A camp of all places to stumble upon. She spotted the orc that seemed to be the leader of them all. He was ridiculously tall, but Rysa assumed all orcs were. The man was menacing and she thought he definitely fit the appearance of an orcish leader.

She chuckled to herself, readjusting her position against the tree when she felt a twig snap under her boot. The sound ricocheted through the silence.

"Dammit!" she whispered, snapping her back against the tree. She was sure that made a sound as well, but all the elf could think of was how she hoped she was out of sight.
 
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The sound twitched with the archers as arrows were fired from the trees, the ones in the trees had spotted where the snap came from. One of them shouted

Elf!

Several orcs looked up to see where the supposed elf was, some even were sniffing thinking elves had a unnatural smell around them. Took a while till they finally spotted her on the ground.

Hmm, what do you think?

Elves? Up in the spine? Who knows, perhaps part of a band of adventurers, merchants, or even a military troop.

Durzub turned to his fellow orcs

Someone has been found spying, find it! Make sure to bring it back alive!

Several orcs ran shouting, some with a ferocious sprint as they attempted to capture this intruder to their camp.
 
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She didn't particularly like orcs. Didn't really like humans, elves, or dwarves for that matter. She despised the orcs only because they're were so many of them. The green skins bred like rabbits and ran hither and tither across her domain. Some even had the gaul to claim that it was their territory. They knew her well enough. Called her the 'red demon' or something like that. She didn't really know. They always said it in their language when they saw her.

She was lounging upon a large flat rock and letting the sun warm the dull red scales of her back. It felt good. Then she rolled on her back and let the sun warm her belly. She wasn't cold blooded but the warmth invigorated her nonetheless. She loved the heat and thought about slipping off to a nearby pool she knew that was warmed to boil by thermal vents.

She had been watching them, this particular group of orcs for some time from across the valley. She couldn't hear them. The distance was just too far but she could easily see them even across the miles the separated them from her. A deep thrumming noise escaped her throat and she rolled back over. Now they were chasing an elf girl. 'What poor luck that elf has,' she thought and her stomach growled. She was hungry. Maybe the orcs would be so kind as to part with some of their beasts of burden. Maybe she could snag the elf girl before they got to her. Given the distance she thought that last part highly unlikely.

Pele got to her feet, leaned back on her hind quarters, and heaved herself into the air. With ferocious wing beats she gained altitude until she was in the open air, framed in blue with few puffy lines of cloud behind her.
 
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The orcs had undoubtedly heard her. Mentally cursing herself, Rysa decided to step out in the open. She feared that if she ran they would think she's guilty. And she wasn't spying. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A shiver ran down Rysa's spine and her ears flattened against her head. She planted her feet on the ground beside the tree, wrapping her cloak around her.

"I do not mean to intrude. I have no intention of spying," she began. "I was simply looking for a place which would supply me with sulfur. I was a fool in thinking I would find any here. I mean no harm to you or your camp."

The words were directed at the leader. She hoped she was loud enough to heard overtop of the orcish battle cry. Rysa found some humor in how ferocious they were in the act of capturing a simple elf. She chuckled at it and put her hands up, signalling resignation. Her hands, however, were close enough to her bow in the event that the army did not hesitate to rip her apart.

A glimmer of what she thought was a dragon flew above her head, but she didn't dare to look.
 
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An scruffy orc was about to grab the potential scout, until a quick shadow flew across the forest floor. Several eyes went up as terror overcame their face's, while Durzub awaited the return of a prisoner he instead heard the terrifying shout.

Dragon!

Scatter!

Several orcs ran for cover while some just ran and grew tired, not having fully
recovered.


Boss, what should we do?

Durzub looked a the dragon, seeing it was unexpected and quickly changed the situation for him.

Courage! I would like to see some here! SO spread out and hope our archers can hit it!

The rest of hope that it dons't see you

He then looked over where the elf was and grunted, leaving her gaze as he moved in position.
 
The breath of leathery wingbeats like snapping sails shook the tops of the pines.


Beneath the coniferous canopy and the shadow of the flying serpent, a figure dashed through the snow. He looked an orc, though his skin shone a mottled blue beneath his lamellar pauldrons, boiled hide armor, and kaffiyah. He carried a stout recurved bow in his hand, his other clutching a fistful of arrows, shafts of a grim thickness, with heads tipped for piercing mail and leather. Or scales.


Upon his back bounced a mighty sword, made to kill horses, while scabbarded at his waist and the small of his back were a curved scimitar and a wickedly bent dagger.


Despite his armament and size, the orc sprinted spryly through the needle-covered floor of the forest. For at this altitude undergrowth was sparse and the tree trunks thin.


The mountains of the Spine were taller than the peaks of his homeland in Seret, but the brisk mountain air felt familiar on his face.


Breathing hard through the nose, braided hair dancing about beneath his hood, Grozkalla the Ogre of Seret drew up short on the verge of a clearing. Ahead, he could see the shapes of panicked orcs milling about, one monstrously armored figure at their center. Above, the dragon’s wings battered the air and its shadow fell upon them all.


Knocking an arrow to his bow, Grozkalla waited for an opening.
 
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A challenging roar cascaded through the pines sending a spray of sticky needles to the forest floor by itself. It sounded like a withering jet of flame, the shock of a bolt of lightning, the whipping wind of a hurricane, and the deep rumble of an earthquake all smashed together. It rattled teeth in skulls as the living siege engine blotted out the sky. The dull red of her forty-five foot wingspan cast all below in shadow. Arrows and bolts flew, many clattering harmlessly off scales harder than steel and some others puncturing the thin membrane of the dragon's wings to continue on in their flight. Bee-stings these were. They would do no lasting harm.

There were plenty of openings as the massive creature came in and many orcs took advantage to loose their missiles but many broke and clattered back to the ground and those that did damage were only a minor nuisance. It is so easy to imagine hitting such a creature in a vital such as their eye. In reality it is nearly impossible when the creature is moving, especially when one realizes that its body was made to thwart that very attempt.

A long gout of liquid flame spewed across the treeline, ripping through an area containing three orcish archers. Like jellied oil the substance stuck to skin and fabric. Deadly heat erupted below her path. The line of fire easily caught the dry needles, deadwood, cones, and sticky bark of the pines ablaze cutting off retreat or reinforcement on one side near a depression and some part of any would be escape back into the clearing that Grozkalla had just charged in from. The dragon beat its wings after breathing flame and sailed through before she performed a wing-over. She was coming back around.

Grozkalla | Durzub | Oliver Rose
 
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AGGGHHH!

The burning orcs fell from their tree top lookouts, as several orcs that might have become brave become panicked once again.

Dratzh Dratzh!

Durzub just saw his favorite archer die as he burned to death, wasn't much of an encouragement. Doubt began creeping to his mind, perhaps he could't defeat this dragon. Perhaps he should run,find a hiding place, leave the warbarnd.

No

NO!

His second came forward, he was equally terrfied

Boss we have to split, it can't take us all

Durzub seam out of it, until he finally addressed his second's
suggestion


No, wont work, its trying to trap us in, we would need a distraction, something big

He thought for a while thinking what would a draw in a dragon, on the ground where they could at least have a chance
 
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The orcs were falling, their bodies crashing to the ground. Rysa shielded herself from the fire behind a tree until it was hit and the fire caught her cloak. She quickly flung the cloak off of her shoulders and backed away from the tree, her long black hair hitting the small of her back. The elf gripped her bow and took an arrow from her quiver, readying it, but not aiming toward the dragon.

She ran for the leader of the orcs.

"You can't take the dragon! Arrows do nothing to harm it!"

Rysa recalled the last time she had seen a dragon. The creature had been dying, whimpering as blood oozed out from around it. She remembered crying unable to give the dragon a quick death and send it from its misery. It was one of the few memories she had retrieved from before her amnesia. And she was not about to let this dragon die.

"You have to run away," she tried again, "It will kill you and all your men! You don't want that do you?"
 
Fire roared about Grozkalla. Sparks danced from the burning trees at his back. Heat and smoke flooded his senses. Blinking through stinging eyes, Grozkalla stared into the sky above. He drew back the bow, bending the recurve frame until the feathers of the arrow nearly touched his ear.

“Annuak, god of war, hear your servant from across land and sea,” whispered the ogre in supplication. “Guide my arrow true.”

He loosed and the arrow flew forth into sky, speeding toward the place where the dragon’s wing met its shoulder.
 
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Durzub looked at the elf extremely perplexed, she had the gull to talk to the leader that orders her capture. Though the situation had changed and there was a dragon, she was still an elf. He looked confused at first but a after a moment he took a stern look.

Everyone withdraw! he shouted

Move through the brush and live to fight another day!
 
The orcs already panicking needed no encouragement to run. Several had been killed in the flame, though only a few were still recognisable.

Durzub however before he ran released the worgs, hoping that their movements would confuse the dragon, the infamous red demon or Thel'araka as his people called her.

Yip, yip he shouted slapping the world as they ran into the woods.

Boss without the worgs-

We will find new mounts, new archers, and next time be better preaped for situations like this, such beasts

The plated orc then looked at the sky beast, truly infuriated but almost in as of such destructive power

Durzub then ran, with his second Zilge
 
“Annuak, god of war, hear your servant from across land and sea,” whispered the ogre in supplication. “Guide my arrow true.”

'Twang.' Propelled through smoke and fire, the shaft wobbled though the heated air. An arrow shot by any normal bow would have no chance at causing her injury short of putting small holes in her wings or blinding her if one managed to hit her eye. These other arrows were light pokes. She barely felt the impacts against her scales. It was not so with this bow or this arrow. This bow was specially crafted to use every ounce of the assassin's strength.

It was still a nearly impossible shot at long range. She had to maintain a height to clear the tops of the pines and those stretched skywards so the arrow had to fly to meet her moving form. The shot was true enough to hit and like a sledge hammer hitting heavy plate the body of the dragon flinched to one side in her wing-over. The head of the arrow slammed into her left side, between her ribs. She felt that like a strong blow and growled but she was not grounded. The sound fell upon the charred forest floor like rolling thunder and she looked for the one who had dare bruise her and her pride. In her mind these orcs were nothing to a dragon after all. She couldn't pick out exactly where the arrow had come from.

This is when the wargs were released. In reaction she wheeled around in the air again and dived on one of the creatures through a different clearing that was not too far off. There was a yelp, the snap of bones, and then a ripping sound as dragon talons crushed the thing's ribs and then slipped in to puncture organs. It only took one bite to end the warg's life. The red demon or Thel'araka had been distracted. They could easily escape.
 
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After a while, quite some time away, the surviving orcs gathered as they counted their dead and the loot they lost

Several downed their eyes to the ground as everyone moved away from the wall of fire. The orc warband had know defeat before and would now consider their leaders next action. Even though the dragon was out of Durzub's control, he did flee along with ever other survivor. That would have to wait until the warband encountered the settlement nearby and recive the rest they deserved.

/ooc so I'm not sure were to go from here, but probably move this story as the warband moves along the different locations and keep meeting people. Thank you for that encounter but I would like to do some orc rp, no more dragons please
 
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