Open Chronicles Trouble on the Steppes

[Infernal]

Blood and carnage follow wherever they go...

They know of savagery even greater than most others...

Those who stand against them are swept up in the tide of violence...

Murder, cannibalism, devastation, gluttony, they are all too aware of these things...

Many know them as the Flesh-Rend tribe, and their hunger will never be sated until they have swallowed up the world...

It was a peaceful day on the Taagi Baara Steppes. Centaurs conversed in a friendly manner, whole packs on the move where the game are headed. They live much like the orcs do, in harmony with nature, respecting it so that everyone may benefit. If only they knew that their entire world was about to be thrown into chaos.

"Looks like there are some travellers up ahead. We should greet them." A centaur, named Lomar, commented to his brother. "It looks like they've been travelling for some time."

"You're right, brother." The brother, Yunis, confirmed. "Let us see where they come from and if they are lost." Trotting towards the group, they felt a shift in the air, and began to sniff out the new scents. "Do you smell that?"

"I'm sure it's nothing. Come on, now, we can't waste time." Approaching the group, the olive skinned creatures smiled and waved in greeting. "Hello there! Are you new to these parts? I am Lomar and this is my brother, Yunis. Where do you hail from?"

 

[Tëryn]

Tëryn had been tracking the band for some time. Newcomers. He met them on the road and decided to keep his distance for the moment. He wasn’t opposed to spending time with caravans and the like, but such groups were better off without him in their midst. For an Elf, he was still considered a young strapling, and perhaps he was a bit reckless at times. But such were the needs of the Steppes. When no one else would follow an errant Ogre or other monstrosity, he made it his business.

But lately, things had been quiet. No major movements by the roaming monster types. Tëryn had been secretly hoping that it was indicative of a quiet season on the Steppes. Soon winter would come, and with it the slower movements of the tribes. This is good. An off season would be nice...

And then the wind shifted and he smelled it: something foul. Distant yet, but unique.

 

[Infernal]

They talk for a while, sharing good will to each other, but as time goes on, the smell only starts to get worse. "What is that stench?" Lomar asks.

"It smells like...death." Yunis stated.

First came a rumble, then came the sound of far off shouting. The two brothers and travelers went up to the top of a hill. It was there that they saw it, the rushing mass of purple, that which knew only death and hunger.

"I've never seen purple orcs before." One of the travelers said. "Are they...are they coming for us?"

They ran, with such powerful legs they ran, never seeming to stop, whooping and hollering, as if in a craze. Yunis watched and knew instantly what this meant. "Go and warn the clan, brother, quickly! We must make haste before they reach us."

"Yes brother." He begins to gallop, and Lomar is soon lost in the distance. "You, travelers, we must hurry. Hop on my back, and I will take you to safety!"

 

[Tëryn]

Tëryn found himself following the travelers to the hillside, and like most there, the sight was horrific enough to startle him. He pulled his horse to turn away, and saw what the centaurs were doing to help the others and felt a pang of guilt. He had meant to leave those who could not flee themselves. But memories from the Allir Reach breached the surface.

The smoke from the fires offended his nostrils, the stench of flesh burnt mixed with pine. The captain stood on the ravine overlooking the cabins that stood in the inferno’s path. “We will move on. There is nothing left for us to do here.”

“But captain...” Tëryn Steppes forward from the line of Rangers.

“NO!”

The flash of memory faded as the stench of the purple tide hit him again. Not this time, this time I fight. He steered his horse back to the group of travelers. When he arrived at the gathering, he called out, “Who cannot run?” He dismounted and waited for a response. “Two to my horse, the rest with me! Come!” He threw two onto its back and began his flight on foot.

 

[Ledhros Caur]

On open plains, no orc could chase down a healthy adult centaur. All too often, though, that truism led to miscalculation. A bloodcrazed horde might catch up to the weak, the old, the young - or lay a good trap, with enough foresight.

The deep, fast river two miles ahead made for just such a trap. From Ledhros' vantage point on a low hill, he could see a few clusters of centaurs and bipeds being swept toward the curve of that river. He'd be one of them, all too soon. The purple orcs moved quickly.

A thrown spear thudded into the steppe near Ledhros' front hooves. He reared despite himself and sent an arrow back that way, but he could empty three quivers and the horde would keep coming.

A simple choice, then: cast his lot with the potential future victims, or get out past the horde's edge and save his own hide.

He chose the first option. His hooves tore up cold ground and dusty clods of grass as he twisted to fire back over his own body. Orc after orc dropped. It wouldn't be enough.

 

[Infernal]

It was supposed to be simple...

My brother always had a plan...

But how...how did they know?

Yunis carried the travelers, accompanying the strange newcomer that was with them, a protector, he looked like, as they made their way towards the river. It was the best place they could go to mount a proper evacuation, once they met up with the rest, they could go along the river and go to the town which made its home there. With their walls and archers, the orcs wouldn't stand an chance.

"Brother!" Lomar looked distressed, and Yunis knew why in an instant. "They're already here, just beyond the river, they're coming, brother!"

The river wasn't deep enough to keep them from crossing. They'd splash right through and start attacking. It didn't look like the entire Clan was here, a thought Yunis pushed away before it turned dark. "Let us hurry, before the ones behind us catch up."

The trap was so obvious, he should have seen it sooner. Even with their people firing arrow after arrow, the sheer number of orcs and their supernatural toughness made their attempts at defeating them useless. What's more, he soon realized the full force of the horde was bearing down on them, in three directions. Behind them, to the west, and now bearing down on them from the south, Yunis realized they had been corralled, and weren't even aware of it.

"Scatter! Don't let them get too close!" A few of his brethren, some of the strongest centaurs he knew, opted to charge right through the monsters. Plowing through the first few lines, all that could be heard were shrieks of pain and agony, before the orcs had overtaken them.

"This way, brother, hurry!" The travelers on his back shook with fear, and he wanted nothing more than to calm them, but there was nothing that could be done now. Orcs were upon them, and they had to do everything they could to survive this ordeal, or face a fate worse than mere death.

 

[Infernal]

Lomar awoke sometime later, groaning in pain, his hands bound together. Everything was a blur of chaos and bloodshed, he had no idea what was going on, and soon would see the true terror of the Flesh Rend tribe.

"Brother? Where...where's my brother?" They weren't in the Plains anymore, that much was true. From what it looked like, they were inside a stronghold, one filled to the brim with purple orcs. "Brother?"

"Be quiet!" One of the brutes shouted. The centaur cringed, noting the distinct smell of death on him.

Looking about, there were other centaurs, some humans, even other orcs all bound and kept in pens throughout the stronghold. There was no sign of Yunis, and he feared what that meant about his siblings fate. For now all he could do was sit and wait, hoping that somehow, somewhere, he was okay.

 

[Infernal]

In the night, something began to happen. The orcs were moving about, preparing something, something Lomar couldn't understand exactly. Strangers in black cloaks were moving about, muttering and directing the orcs. They looked so thin and scrawny, yet were able to command the orcs with such authority, they had to be some kind of religious figure.

Occasionally the cloaked figures would point at someone, and they would get dragged out of the pens. Most were too tired to fight, out of a combination of malnutrition and dehydration most likely. Those who did were quickly beaten into compliance, making Lomar believe he wasn't likely to be chosen just yet.

"Hey, you." Someone whispered, Lomar tried to twist his head to see them, but they told him to stop. "If they think we're talking to each other, they'll kill us. What's your name?"

"Lomar." He said. "What about you?"

"Joel. I was just trying to make my way to the nearest city when these bastards grabbed me." He sounded sincere, and so Lomar felt he could trust him.

"What do we do, Joel? I don't want to die here."

"Don't worry friend, I'll figure out a way for us to get us out of here, I promise."

 

[Infernal]

"What are they doing?" Lomar asked, seeing the appointed prisoners being taken up to a stone dais. It was hard to see the surface of it, but it looked as if there were strange, esoteric symbols etched into it.

"Dunno, but it can't be good. Everyone has their weapons ready, like they're about to get in a fight." He was right, nearly every orc had their own weapon out and ready to fight. Why fight when the prisoners being brought forward were so emaciated and hopeless?

One of the cloaked figures came up towards the dais, and Lomar got a glimpse of true horror.

He spoke in a thick guttural tone, the words tumbling out of his mouth like sludge out of a pipe. With grand gestures and pointing towards different orcs, he finally brought his hands up towards the dais, speaking in an altogether different language, that caused many people to sob and plug their ears with their fingers. Dark red energy flowed into the dais, illuminating the night in an eerie glow of evil.

Screams began to flow freely from the stone pedestal, first from the prisoners, then joined with Lomar's as he witnessed the horror that came forward.

 

[Infernal]

Lomar had never seen a demon before. He had heard rumors, listened to tales, but would never in his life imagine that it could be so terrible as it was today.

Three of them in all, a wretched culmination of arms, tentacles, spines and teeth. Natural creatures could not possibly live in such a form, only the chaotic, random madness lurking in the great beyond which could birth such monsters. Why was this going on, he thought to himself in despair, watching as the demons feasted upon the bodies who had died upon the pedestal.

"They're lower demons, really. It's in their nature to feed, so they can't help it when it's offered to them. Most others wouldn't bother, not after seeing what happens when you take the bait."

Understanding didn't come to Lomar, not until he saw the first spear pierce into the hide of the first demon. It screeched something terrible, and then the rest of the tribe descended upon them, killing and tearing into the large monsters, devouring their flesh in a frenzy. Lomar looked backwards, confused and frightened beyond belief.

"How...how did you know that?"

"Because, my doomed friend." He said, his eyes burning red with malice, grinning that evil way he had about him. "I've got big plans for these pawns, and they need all the meat they can get to grow big and strong."

Lomar screamed again, this time it was joined by the hideous laughter of the devil tormenting him in this his greatest hour of peril.