Blight: Lore & Fiction

Know that feeling, been on forums where there was simply no one reacting to my stories, and probably not reading it either.

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TBH I just enjoy writing for the sake of it, if somebody reads it i’m glad if not well
I got hero coins outta it :slight_smile:

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Sooo
Orc encyclopedia?
Yeah :slight_smile:

Encyclopaedia Alundria

The Orcish Hordes and the clans that make them. A short overview of the Warriors of the sun.
By Brother Toth of the Gray Council.

There are many names that have surfaced ever since the first Orc raid attacked a settlement.
Greenskins, savages, monsters, slavers, barbarians
noble?
Ever since the Blight first appeared, the greenskinned warriors have discarded their (mostly) violent ways and are one of the mightiest fighters that have faced down a Immortal herd.
Orcs think little of the other races, save the trolls with whom they share a strange kinsmenship, and do not suffer insults lightly.
Orcish culture is very secretive and most of the information gathered here was gained from Orcish Outcasts, goblin merchants and the one open minded orc who was willing to share her tale. In this short excerpt I will shed a light on the Orcish people, both for good
and ill.

Genesis.

According to legend, the Orcs believe themselves to be descendants from the sun. When the world was created it was a big ball of fire that eventually cooled down. When it cooled it became like ice. The sun took pity on the earth and send down it’s children to warm it. Dragons.
The dragons warmed the earth with their hot breath and thus life began. Trees, water, rocks and the other races came from the frozen ice and were given a place.
However the orcs themselves are not made out of Alundrian soil. Rather they believe that they were made from scales shed by the dragons and made mortal when it touched the ground, thus descended from the sun.
Hence most orcs life in the desert close to dragon nests.
Most scholars at the Citadel believe this is not possible and Orcs are actually a strange offshoot of troll who adapted to the desert habitat. However some do believe the connection to the sun is very probable since of all the races on Alundria only Orcs can access fire magic.

The first recordings of Orcs was a century after the First Troll wars, although it was plausible earlier encounters were possible as to the outsider Orcs could have been seen as shorter trolls and some distant desert human tribes did have trade or conflict with the orcish people but both sides mostly kept their distance.

Untill what would be called the Second Troll war, the Orc clans were mostly fighting either each other or themselves for fertile lands and domination for the desert breeds a hardy and violent people. It wasn’t until one Orc was strong, smart and brave enough to slam the chieftains heads together and pointed to the more lush and fertile lands south. That Orc to this day is loved by the greenskins and despised by descendants of those who survived his onslaught.
Under the Warchief Gorvar the Dragonrider, the Orc clans of the isle of Oasis sailed to the main continent and began raiding the northern lands. Many human castles, dwarven strongholds and elven forests burned as the Orcs took gold, slaves and anything else of value for their own. Soon enough other orc clans native to Alundria joined left their own deserts and joined the Horde.

Unlike the more slow musclebound trolls, the orcs were smarter, faster and struck wherever they could. It is estimated that ten percent of Alundria’s population died during this Second Troll war.
Gorvar was a skilled tactician who learned from his mistakes and took advice from his Troll allies who had more experience fighting the forces of Order. Prince Shrah, a Trollok (The hybrid of a orc and troll union) who led the largest troll tribe at the time, became Gorvar’s confidant and second hand man during this time.
Were it not for Thane Brunhilde of the dwarves, Queen Morganna of Gryphon’s Crown and Sea King Morgan of the Pirate Armadda, the Orc Horde would’ve conquered half the continent. But Thane Brunhilde who slew the Warchief in a aerial battle at Ravenspire and thus broke the Orcs’ morale.

With the death of Warchief Gorvar, the Horde scattered into different clans all across the continent and many sailed back to Oasis with many Chieftains fighting each other to grasp what little remained of Gorvar’s Empire.
In the years that followed they got close to rallying some of the clans and did call themselves Warchief but none of them got as close as to conquering Alundria as Gorvar did.

The Orcish clans

There are many orc clans and to many to count. Each clan has its own customs and rites. Some clans fully focus on one aspect of orcish life such as raiding or worshipping the sun or rearing lifestock while others do all of the above. Most orcs burn their dead while others offer their dead bodies to the local dragon to feast upon. Some even allow non-orcs to join the clan such as Trolls, Goblins and Trolloks. One legend even speaks of Thorgal the pinkskin, a human barbarian who once assumed the chieftaincy of one orc clan and took a orcish female to wife and was the scorn to the nearby human lords who had wronged him.

The Orcs who raid mostly use the native wolves as their mounts, much like how humans use horses. They produce the Wolf Riders and Wolf Chariots that perform devastating charges against their foes. Orc children are raised along with wolf pups, creating a bound between orc and wolf. Their shaman tend to the wolves and speak to the Wolf spirit to guide the Pack.
These Wolf Packs are constantly on the move, going from settlement to settlement. Either the settlement pays up food and riches to buy off the pack or face the consequences.

Those who follow the path of flame are called a Dragon clan. They live near their namesake and it is from them that the Orcs know how to cast fire magic. The Dragon Brigade are Orcs who offer the dragon wolf meat and survive it’s hot breath in a bizarre ritual that unlocks the fire within. Not many survive this ritual but those who do are the strongest firebenders Alundria has ever seen, being able to set a Immortal herd ablaze by themselves.
From these few only another few are able to commune with the dragons and ride them.
A orc on a dragon can lay waste to a entire army singlehandedly, the need to burn everything in sight being the same thought both rider and dragon share.

Another type of clan is the clan of the boar. The closest we can describe them as are farmers. They rear lifestock, such as pigs, and tend to food as a way to pay off other clans or feed other clans during a Horde march.
They also tend to stay in fertile areas and grow barley for ale. They are considered the ‘weakest’ of the clans but even they have battle hardened warriors who can fight off a raid of human knights.

The last type of clan is not really considered one by the other orc clans. These are often led by Outcast Warchiefs and live outside of the desert and settle in swamps or forests, rather in-orc like places. Each of these chieftains and their clans have removed themselves from orc lands for different reasons ranging from exile, having found food elsewhere to befriending the other races, especially those who befriended those of the races of Order.

Government

A orc clan works on the same system as the humans do with slaves at the bottom, followed by free orcs to warriors who protect them to Shaman who lead the spiritual things to Chieftains who run the clan and then Warchiefs who lead entire Hordes.
Despite appearances the Orcs are quite democratic and once every fortnight, or when there is a emergency, the clan gathers in the main tent and any free orc may raise their voice to any concern.
Any free orc can also challenge a chieftain to become the next chieftain however for the sake of avoiding chaos it can only happen once a year. However these battles tend to be one to the death and most Chieftains have earned that place for a reason. Chieftains and Warchiefs can be of either gender.
This concerns some clans although others do tend to have a hereditary line of succession going on much like most nobility found in more civilised lands.

The slaves are a very delicate subject since according to the rules of the Grand Alliance slavery is banned and every Alundrian from human to elf to dwarf to goblin to troll to orc has to follow it. However since it is hard to follow up on all cases and most orc slavers and goblin pirates have become crafty enough to avoid inspection, slavery still exists though not as much as it used to be back before the Blights.
Slaves range from all sentient species found in Alundria and are often used as domestic servants, builders or warriors and unlike free orcs do not have a vote during a meeting. However the visage of a slave wrapped in chains and being tormented by orcish masters is a thing of the past. Although the person in question has lost his/her freedom, a master looks after his/her slave like a valued possession. If you do not take care of your possession you do not take care of yourself and that could be seen as dishonourable.
For a slave there is also a chance for promotion as some are named overseers for their hard work and become free orcs (even if they are not orcs).

Shaman rule over the spiritual side of orcish life and commune either with the spirit of the wolf, the dragon or the sun directly. They tend to stare at the sun for long period of time and the most ancient of orc shaman tend to be blind as a result (though they tend to see it as a badge of honour).
They preside over every orc birth and death and make sure the soul of the orc returns to the sun or finds it’s way do the child. The shaman also often serve as advisors to the Chieftains with sometimes the two becoming a mated pair or share a bound in friendship or blood.

Diet

Orcs tend to eat most food find in deserts, which is very little. They eat scorpion, locusts, grain, oasis fruits and of course boars that they raise themselves.
Because of their friendship to goblin pirates they often trade coin or other valuables found in the desert to eat exotic food such as bananas, pineapples and the dodo bird.

Religion

Orcs believe in reincarnation, as such that the soul first came from the sun along with the dragons, finds its home in a orc child and returns to the sun upon death.
Some orcs who do extraordinary things such as epic battles, uniting orc clans, befriending a dragon, finding a fast amount of drinkable water and so on are called Paragons of the sun and are seen as the finest in orckind.

Unlike most species, Orcs tend to not have set festivals or feasts and they tend to happen when something special happens to the clan or a person within a clan.
A orc marriage between two clans is one such a occasion where feasts, songs, fights and orgies tend to happen. A clan marriage such as this is considered a dull affair unless at least five orcs lay dead.
A orc funeral tends to happen on the same day when the orc dies, for bodies tend to not last long in the desert. Every night the clan does gather around a bonfire and tell stories.

The orcs revere the dragons and see them as the chosen children of the sun where they believe the dragons came from. They believe their kind was born when the first dragon scales landed on the earth and created the first orcs. Elder shamans believe that it is a orc’s duty to burn as bright in life so that the earth remains warm like the sun and dragons are doing.
Only those chosen by the sun are seen as worthy to ride on the beasts.

Relations with other races.

Humans: Humanity was the first to suffer from the Orcish raids. As such they hate the orcs with a burning passion, something the Grand Alliance does not take away even as the Blight looms ahead. The northern kingdoms distrust and openly despise the orcs, remembering the destruction Warchief Gorvar left behind during the Second Troll War. Gryphon’s Crown was the most adamant in opposing the entry of the Orcs in the Grand Alliance and even when Sanctuary was nearly overrun by the Blight they refused Orcish aid from Queen’s Crown. It is only recently in some kingdoms and duchies in the northern hemisphere of Alundria that orcish travellers were allowed inside the kingdom but even so many suspicious eyes fall upon them.
The southern kingdoms seem more open minded and end up hiring Orcish warriors as bodyguards or martial instructors.
One such example is Frekkia the shamaness who trained Lord Harold of House Barnsworth.

Elves: The elves on the continent of Alundria share a similar dislike for the Orcs but in their long years they have learned to forgive such hatred. The elves on the isle of Oasis however have a different relationship with the orcs there. Since the rise of Warchief Gorvar who sacked many elven holds, and spawned the Second Troll wars on the mainland, the princes there feel it is their obligation to keep a vigilant eye on the clans there and made sure via covert means that no such threat like a Third Troll War would ever happen again.

Dwarves; The hatred the dwarves share with the humans for the orcs is deep and many orc names and deeds are scribbled down in a lot of Mountain King’s book of grudges.
However some more open minded dwarven kings, such as King Thror of the Iron Crown province, has a friendship with the female Warchief Grella of the Laughing Axes although rumours claim both helped each other rise In their respective ladders by illicit means including robbery, arson and murder.

Trolls; If there is one true friend in Alundria to the Orcs, it is the Trolls of the swamp.
Like the Orcs they share the same skin colour, the swamps being they live in being as deadly as the scorched desert. And before the Blight shared the same enemy.
After the First Troll war, which forced the trolls to retreat back to their swamps, the guardians of the dead had few friends and were the victim of frequent attacks by all sides. It was around that time that the first Outcast Warchiefs came to the swamp and met the trolls. A friendship, forged in common hatred of the forces of Order and warlike culture, was struck and soon enough Troll and Orc warbands roamed the countryside, sacking human villages.
It is during this time the first Trolloks began to appear, a mix of orcish cunning with troll brute strength.
Prince Shrah was one of these creatures and when he first heard of a massive Horde forming in Oasis, he sailed over to ask the Warchief for help and make their enemies pay for past crimes. Even at the end of the Second Troll War, these two races have remained steadfast allies.

Goblins; The goblins have no true friends since their love of coin makes them neutral to any side in any conflict. However several goblin pirates enjoy trading with Orcish slavers and do continue business with them offering special discounts. Ambitious orcs who no longer enjoy desert life sometimes join pirate crews and sate their bloodlust on trade ships the pirates prey on.
Some orc clans however share a almost business relationship with the goblins. The goblins have a rivalry with the dwarves in the mountains and often fight them in the underground tunnels, far away from the accords of the Grand Alliance, for the riches and ores the mountain has to offer and often hire Orcs to fight alongside them.

Famous Orcs

Warchief Gorvar: Also named Gorvar the Dragonrider, is the first Orc Warchief to gather many orc clans and create a Horde. According to legend, Gorvar was born in a Boar Clan and lived a simple life with his wife and children. It was a hard life but a honest and good one. The deserts in Oasis were lawless and every clan was out for themselves and the particular year when his quest began was the driest ever recorded in Orc history. One day on a warm summer’s day during a drought, a Wolf Pack attacked the clan and slaughtered most of the boar clan and took their food.

Gorvar and a few others who were off herding their boars away from the clan were the sole survivors of this clan, his wife and pups did not survive. Despite being lowly Boar clansmen, their rage made them true orcs and thus the small warband went off on their quest for vengeance. However rage could only help so much and after a few skirmishes Gorvar knew more was needed to defeat the Wolf Pack.
They made their way to a dragon nest and demanded justice. If she was truly a child of the sun she would not lay by and let orc kill orc. The dragon Serpentera, a old wyrm, found the orcs amusing and their souls burning with righteous fire and performed the ritual on them. All of them became what one day be called the Dragon Brigade. With their newfound powers, Gorvar and his clan killed and set aflame to those who murdered his family and kin. After his bloodlust was sated, a revelation came to mind and offered the survivors a choice. Join him or die. The surviving Wolf Pack joined and became the first members of Gorvar’s Horde.

In time, the Orc Clans formed a Horde with Gorvar as Warchief, the first to do so orc history. Under him, no orc attacked another orc and all clans aided each other in food and war. He took several wives from prominent clans and sired a new line of chieftains in this golden age of heroes. In admiration, Serpentera offered her youngest son as a mount to Gorvar, her son’s need for violence being in sync with Gorvar’s need to expand his territory.
It was in this time the Trollok Prince Shrah travelled to Oasis to see of the tales of this Warchief were true. When the two met, it was on the field of battle as Shrah and his trolls aided In sacking the last of the elven strongholds that opposed Gorvar’s entry to the sea. This bound forged in battle made Shrah sure that Gorvar was the hero the trolls needed to take revenge for the crimes committed on them after the First Troll War.

Now named the Dragonrider, Gorvar was told by Shrah of the fertile Alundria to the south and rallied his forces. After a few practice attacks on native human villages and elven forrest homes, Gorvar led the Horde across the ocean and began a war which would be called the Second Troll War. In ten years time, nearly half of Alundria was embroiled in this war with the Dragonrider, a war he was winning.
Thankfully he died during the battle of Ravenspire when he was thrown off his dragon by Thane Brunhilde and her Gryphon riders and his Horde fractured. No orc was able to get close to amassing a Horde as large as Gorvar’s.

Ushnotz: A member of the Dragon Brigade and a veteran of many battles in the Second Blight.
As a young orc he along with a fellow orc in his village were chosen by his chieftain to go to the dragon Belron to commence in the Dragon ritual. Although he was the child of two members of the Brigade, he did not expect to survive the ritual. Not only did he survive the ritual, he became one of the strongest members of the Brigade and gained glory and valour in many battles against the Blight across Alundria. He became a hero to the orcish people and even was named a paragon of the sun, siring many orclings across the kingdoms.
After many years, he retired and became a slaver in Oasis until one day he disappeared and was replaced by another slaver called Gorvar during a slave uprising.

Warchief Grella; Chieftain of the Laughing Axes and Warchief of the Orcish Horde in the Iron Crown Province.
Born as a Desert Maiden, Grella was a warrior who in her early career came upon a dwarven convoy carrying a prisoner. Being hired by the locals goblins, Grella attacked the convoy and ended up freeing the prisoner. That dwarf was a noble called Thror who repaid Grella with a favour, a list of locations with easy targets from a rival dwarf clan. Grella’s warband became very rich and powerful and her rise to Chieftain and then Warchief was only a matter of time.

Ciara; A small orcling girl from Shadows Barren also known as the little desert jewel. Ciara followed a orc warband who were send to Fog’s Fen to clear the Immortals who had taken over from the native trolls. She brought in many wolf pups, looked after the wounded and the wolves and inspired the orcs to fight even harder against the Blight, for if a orc pup would stand up against a big monster, surely a orc warrior would do as well. During the battle when she was in danger, the warband rallied around her like a banner and slew the Trailblazer and his trolls down to the undead man. The warband had her as a mascot ever since.

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That was great! I love the Genesis!

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Thanks man!
I wanted to give the Orcs some backstory, they needed it. Glad you liked it :slight_smile:
I referenced the works of @mammon and @Diaphanous as well cuz they helped a lot with characterizing them.

@Aran and @Valhallan also got a reference in :slight_smile:

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Nice history, Gorvar!

I’ve been trying to get myself to write something as well, specifically a multi-chapter orc saga of the Dust to Dust map that would essentially be an overarcing war from the first blight appearance to the eventual victory, expanding upon the tribes and individuals. Fortunately the only thing I need to change in my story to accomodate to Gorvar’s history is explaining why Trallal the warchief isn’t following the general democratic system of the orcs and instead enforces a monarch system. Actually works well with why the other tribes don’t like him much.

However, I can’t. Get it. to work. AT ALL. The exposition is so clunky and I can’t get into the writing flow once I start writing like with other stories. So I’m not sure if I’ll manage to finish it.

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Well give it a try sir. I would love to see what you’ve written.
I’m a big orc and dwarf fan so anything more on them would be AWESOME!
And dont worry about my encyclopedia entries. First off unless @IHG-BlightedPea or Jay mention it as canon you can write whatever you like and not bother with the continuity of others. Second my history bits are written by a Grey who has his own bias towards things and what was written may or may not be true. So go nuts my friend :slight_smile:

Man I wish I had more time to read these, some are pretty great. I may try my own take on the Priestess of the Pool. :grin:

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And I would love to read it sir. :slight_smile: thanks!

Foreman/Gold/Crystal Miners next?
Or more Vampire stuff?

BOTH!
Plus a tie-in to Buccaneers, Bounty and Boom!

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Master Foreman

Canon fire erupted from the side of the Siren’s wail as it’s armaments bombarded the coastal town. The town itself returned fire with its own canon but it was obvious they were outmanned and outgunned. Captain Lunatice guessed the town had three cannons while the Siren’s Wail and her escort, the Sailor Mooned and the Sad Serpent, had a combined armament of fifteen. It was only a matter of time before the town would surrender.

“Mister Gock.” Lunatice turned to the goblin to his side.
“Aye cap’n?” Gock turned. Unlike Lunatice who was dressed and groomed like a proper captain, Gock looked more like a savage who would fight under the Bigwig Folly. He was bare-chested and had white and red face paint going in two vertical lines down his face. However despite his savage look, Gock was quite eloquent and had proven his skills as a Sieger (or Sapper as he preferred to call himself) in previous raids.
The previous captain whom he had served clearly did not appreciate him enough.
“How long do you reckon that town will stand?” Lunatice asked.
Gock took out his spyglass and gazed over the smoking buildings and collapsed walls." I guess one more round will do, cap’n!"

“Very well, make it so.” Lunatice looked up to the crow’s nest as Gock signalled the gun crews." Styles, signal the Sailor and the Serpent for one more round!“
The elderly goblin with a blue hat and spectacles replied with a thumbs up before he signalled the other two vessels with a series of flag movements. As he did Lunatice took one of the powder monkeys by his side.” Get Folly on deck with her crew. We’re going ashore" the young goblin lad nodded and ran down below. For a idle moment as he saw the young boy run, Lunatice recalled how to he was much like him when he first started his career in piracy. He wondered if he would survive that long.

One more round of canon fire from the three ships later, the returning fire from the town seized.
A female goblin who held a massive mallet over her shoulder, followed by a small group of goblin savages and orcs.
“The Rat Pack is ready.” Folly grinned." Do we kill all of them or leave some breathing?“
Lunatice considered for a moment.” Leave at least a few alive, we need the workers and intel on this island.“
She gave a mocking salute.” Aye, aye!" she proceeded to bow before she moved to the dinghies the monkeys prepared for her.

A hour later, Captain Lunatice arrived himself on the blood soaked shores of what once was Freebooter’s Folly.
The last remnants of resistance, other goblins, were cut down mercilessly by Folly’s men as the Captain made his way to the centre structure, the main bulkhead which was once a ship much like the Siren. In his mind Lunatice began calculating the costs that would go into rebuilding this place and how to properly fortify it from other pirate crews. The news of black ships bearing a black sun did not innerve him, scary tales told by sailors in taverns was something he was used to but it paid to be cautious.
“Captain!” a gruff voice made Lunatice turn his head. A pale dwarf with black bearded tattoos, a actual black beard and red eyes, walked over to him. He wiped his axe clean of gobo blood on the tattered remnant of a white flag and tossed it away, the blood soaked cloth dropped on the sand before it flew away with the wind. .
“Mister Dwarfkiller.” Lunatice tipped his hat." I thought you would remain on the Serpent?"
“I got bored and I wanted to kill something.” Balgof the dwarfkiller replied as he motioned to one of the dead goblin defenders." Besides I heard from one of these lot that a dwarven mining crew has begun mining in the mountain over there. Stopped them from mining more metal."

He pointed to the nearby mountain, passed the jungle trees. Lunatice rubbed his chin thoughtfully, it explained why this place had so few cannons defending it. With enough marvellous metal not only could he defend this newly gained town but it would also do wonders for his armada’s coffers. With a nod he motioned the albino dwarf to follow as both made their way to the centre of the settlement.

On a platform in front of it, which served as a podium to address the town’s people, Folly had the mayor kneeled on front of the surviving citizens. Two of her men forced his head down on a block as she raised her hammer. Lunatice held up his hand, signalling her to stop. With a pout Folly placed her hammer down.
“Whom do I have the honour of speaking to?” Lunatice asked the bound goblin mayor.
The mayor, a fat and bruised type, spat blood out of his mouth as some drippled over his triple chin." Sod off!"
Folly kicked the mayor in the back of his leg, which made a satisfying snapping sound as he cried out in pain.
“My name is Captain Lunatice of the Siren’s wail, I am now in command of your settlement and
” he knelt down to the crying fat mess of a man. “I heard that you have a issue with dwarves?”

The next day, Lunatice, Folly and Dwarfkiller along with a big group of goblins and orcs made their ways into the bowels of the mountain. The signs outside saying ‘stay out’ in a dwarven and goblin text were ignored. For when a goblin wanted something, he would get it. One way or another.
“It’s a large group of dwarves!” the fat mayor screamed the day before." Really big. Sixty or so gold miners, ten crystal miners led by a bear of a Master Foreman!“
Lunatice took out some snuff from his pouch and placed it on his hand. “How did they get here?” he snorted it.” Our ballooner didn’t spot any dwarf ships." But the mayor was to far gone in his mewling and pleading for mercy to reply properly.
“The tunnels.” Dwarfkiller said." They must’ve made a tunnel from mainland Alundria to here."
" That means we’ll have to close it down with explosives unless we want a dwarven infestation on our island." Folly added." And I’m not saying that because I want to blow stuff up."
“But you are.” Dwarfkiller replied to which he got w wicked grin from her as a reply.
After dispatching the mayor with a hammer to the head from Folly, clearing off the skull and brain tissue from their person and setting the populace to work, Lunatice set off to rid the isle off dwarves.

It did not take long to find them, for the constructed railings, ladders, platforms and lights hanging from the ceiling informed them of the dwarves’ presence. Several carts of gold were found and were it not for Folly’s glares the crew would’ve napped a gold bar or two. It was curious the dwarves left gold hanging around so carelessly. Which meant gold was not their priority.
Along the way they noticed flags and banners hanging around bearing a large grey castle on a green background.
“That is no dwarf house or kingdom I know of
” Dwarfkiller muttered.
“Because it isn’t.” Lunatice motioned to one of the men to tear it down." It’s from the Citadel."
“The Citadel?” Folly blinked." What are those guys doing here?!"
“Your guess is as good as mine, Folly.” Lunatice took some more of his snuff." But i’m guessing the Blight must’ve have the Citadel starving for mana supplies. Perhaps they are here looking for more mana crystals or pools."
Dwarfkiller looked up with a grin. “Only one way to find out.”

Lunatice looked puzzled before he followed the albino’s example
and saw a large group of dwarves standing above them, pick axes at the ready along with a angry glare.
“I don’t see a mage with them.” Folly spoke low enough so only Lunatice and Dwarfkiller could hear." Or a Citadel emissary. That means no Grand Alliance restrictions either.“
The albino grinned as he looked forward to the imminent violence to occur, not curious at all where the mage was.” Aye
and look, there is their leader."
Their Foreman was indeed a bear of a dwarf, being nearly as tall as a small human and twice as muscular. His beard was as white as snow, his expression so grim it could turn milk sour and worst of all
Lunatice knew who he was.

“Master Foreman Thorrim.” he took off his hat and bowed." It’s a pleasure meeting you again. Iron Crown, wasn’t it?"
“Lunatice
” the dwarf spoke with hatred in his voice." Of all the places you could be in the six seas in the world you picked this mine to come to."
“It seems fate wants us to meet again.” Lunatice replied before he gave a toothy grin." How is the wife?“
The foreman turned red.” NONE OF YOUR CONCERN, YOU GREENSKINNED SAVAGE!"
“Oh, this is the one that chased you out of Iron Crown
” Folly placed her finger on her chin thoughtfully." I can see why a gnome would pick you over him.“
Lunatice frowned at the Bigwig.” Thank you, Folly
"
“Very chubby to.” Dwarfkiller concurred.
“ENOUGH!” the Foreman picked up his pickaxe." I was going to give you a chance to leave but by the mountain fathers, I WILL SLAY YOU ALL!" He turned to his miners." CHILDREN OF THE STONE, WITH ME!“
The miners joined in with a battle cry and leaped towards the goblins.
Lunatice drew his sword and cried.” FOR THE SEA RATS!"

Dwarven steel met goblin steel deep underground as both sides revelled in their generations old hatred for one another. A goblin’ skull was cleaved in with a pickaxe as a orc sliced a dwarf’s beard and head off in one stroke. Dwarfkiller and Folly cried out in primal joy for bloodshed as they fought the miners as Lunatice and Thorrim duelled. Despite his anger, Thorrim was no fool and fought like a proper veteran of countless subterranean battles.
He knew where to stab when he had no room and blocked when he could. Lunatice was younger however and faster and could easily counter the Foreman’ strikes with his own.
“You are getting a bit slow there, Master Foreman! No wonder why your wife was so eager to join me!”
“Your words cannot hurt me more than my soul has already endured, greenskin filth!” Thorrim replied." I will burry you here in this mountain!"
“And I shall burry you at sea myself!” Lunatice laughed.

The metal could not soak up the shed blood and soon both goblin and dwarf would fall to the ground from the “slipperiness”. If it was a human knight whom fought the goblins, they would’ve waited for them to get up to continue the fight like true gentlemen. But these were not humans nor knights but dwarves who hated the goblins for thousands of years and miners who had no concept of playing fair to any rules.
Many pickaxes pierced through goblin leather armour and in turn goblin daggers pierced through mining helmets with ease. At one point a goblin had a good idea to start blowing out the candles, for goblins could fight in the dark while dwarves needed candles.
This forced the miners to draw back to a more lit area where the chandeliers hung high above them while the goblins remained in the dark.
Goblin arrows flew from the dark and in return dwarven demolition charges were thrown into it.
Eventually the orcs had enough and charged into the light as their bloodrage took over. Some were quickly felled by pickaxes but they were replaced with more eager goblins.

The two sides were so engrossed in their struggle they neither side noticed something shambling from one of the tunnel entrances. It took one goblin’s jugular being ripped out by mouldy teeth that anyone noticed.
“BLIGHTERS!” Thorrim shouted, his pickaxes deflected Lunatice’s blade.
"IMMORTALS! Lunatice replied.
The Master Foreman and Goblin Pirate looked each other into the eye and in that moment centuries of hatred and insults were thrown aside. The children of the stone stood shoulder to shoulder with the green skinned opportunists and charged into the decaying horde.

All the while in the darkness, a well dressed nobleman with pale skin observed. His eyes, accustomed to the dark, watched how instantly both mortal enemies sat aside their common hatred and fought a common foe instead.
“Curious
” He said before he sank his teeth into the Enchantress’ neck again, the sweet taste of magic blood slaking his thirst. The mage lay limp less in his arms as he feasted while dozens of his undead soldiers marched forward towards the dwarves and goblins. His necromancer weaved the command spell in the air before she send more undead to their slaughter. The white haired pale woman turned to her vampire master." Shall I send more, my lord?“
He pondered for a moment before he nodded.” Yes please Annesa, I would like these mortals dead or at least out of this mine." He gently placed the unconscious Enchantress to one of the black armoured human soldiers." I will take this prisoner to the Count myself. He must know what the Citadel tried to do here today and a easier way to invade Alundria
"
“As you wish m’lord.” the necromancer bowed before she continued her spell. The vampire and some of his men left her be as they made their return to the surface.

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Poor Gock, at least your previous cap’n kept you alive and breathing. O well, t’is the way of the land, ye should’ve stayed on the waters where ye knew the dangers that roamed it.

Nice story, Gorvar. Dwarves, goblins and vampires combined just as you said.

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Thanks mammon!
Wanted to add some BBB in there to.
Hope you don’t mind your characters making cameos in my tales?

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Not at all. If I would, I would’ve sued you for Ugnotz (or whatever his name was). :wink:

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Any requests for a new instalment?
I was thinking of doing a new chapter kinda based on my current Sanctuary match where a certain poster on this here topic saved my dwarven and elven bacon like Théoden in Return of the King.

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Well, it’s crappy, nothing but exposition, jumping from one subject to the other and probably still not that proper in explaining the map (May add a more direct description chapter like Gorvar did later.), but at least I finally have the dreaded first episode out. (BTW, does anyone have a unit&GUI free image of the Dust to Dust map?)

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Chapter 1: The mysterious scorch
It was a beautiful day, a perfect one even. It was sunny, but it wasn’t scorching hot like the desert could be when there was no wind. And because there was no wind, there was no fine sand getting into every crevice and every pore of every orc walking around here. One didn’t get better desert weather than this. And to top it all off, today was a holiday.

It was the festival of the mysterious scorch, a local holiday to celebrate the uncommon existence of this desert outskirt: a gap between the mountains of Li and Lo gave the wind passage from the endless salt deserts where even the orcs could barely survive into the grasslands that would otherwise be populated by humans. The wind had been blowing though this passage for centuries, taking along sand from the eternal desert and creating a fertile and inhabitable desert Eden for orcs. And just like expected, this arrow-shaped strip of desert was indeed inhabited three orc tribes.

Mysterious scorch was not one of these tribes, rather it was a small village inhabited mostly by shamans and other spiritually gifted orcs, located in the outskirt of the Wilds, the largest tribe. A small hamlet of maybe 30 inhabitants including house slaves most of the time, except for this holiday. For just a few days all the rich and powerful orcs from the area and many pilgrims gathered here, temporarily increasing the population to about 200 orcs.

And this holiday, much like the hamlet, was named after one of the most iconic landmarks of the outskirt: the mysterious scorch. A crater filled with a strange ash that never seemed to get covered in the sands of the eternal salt deserts, no matter how strongly the sandstorms blew. This crater radiated with a mysterious power and was always black as night, as if the gods themselves blasted the hole into the earth and wished it to be like this forevermore.

So it was no wonder that almost all shamans in the area gathered around this holy place. Some of them would never even leave the crater, saying it gave them their power over flames and the burning passion of life that kept them breathing long past the lifespan that a regular orc was granted.

During the festival of mysterious scorch, the rest of the outskirt would gather to appreciate this scorch as the shamans did. For a few days, the shamans would amuse and wow the people with tricks of fire and light while the apprentices would join the traditional contest of New scorch. These novices would exhaust themselves trying to burn sand or soil as intensely as they could in a futile attempt to replicate the ashes from the crater, or try to show off their ingenuity by finding new ways to burn it.

And at the end of the contest, three judges would decide which apprentice would win. The first judge Grrsh (Whose name was probably something more sophisticated, but Grrsh was the only one still alive to remember it and he could no longer produce more than this growl.) was a stern judge who would look at the power and devastation per square inch. The second judge was Ushor, the current spiritual leader and most respected shaman in the outskirt, who judged the contestants upon the ingenuity and uniqueness of their burning techniques. And the third judge was Thallal, the tribe chief of the Wild tribe and de-facto leader over all orcs living in the outskirt.

As one would expect from the judge who knew not of the subtleties of fire magic, he judged the contestants purely upon the raw power and devastation of the fire without looking at the actual effect. Something that had led to heated discussions between the judges in previous years, and would no doubt lead to it again this year.

Even though he could see it coming in advance, Thallal didn’t like knowing this. He wasn’t going to prevent it, not when he was clearly in the right about this just like he was always right about everything. But he didn’t like it. Those damn shamans actually considered themselves his equals. The nerve! He was the uncontested leader of the outskirt, the tribe chief who effectively ruled over all orcs around here! Even the Many Dusts and the Nihilists bended to his will.

As was his right by blood. Centuries ago his family claimed the outskirt and turned it into what it is today, an oasis relying on the perfect circumstances for slave breeding. The passage between Li and Lo was the only way out of the eternal salt desert for miles, and because Thallal controlled the passage he effectively created a settlement for slave breeding without the worries of uprisings.

This settlement, which was unnamed because officially it was forbidden to exist, was a large encampment several miles beyond the passageway. Thousands of slaves were trained in this settlement unmarked on every map, and every week caravans carrying supplies would head into the endless salt desert creating a lifeline without which the slavers and slaves of the encampment couldn’t survive.

That wasn’t referring to the entire encampment rather than each and every individual there, not even an experienced nomad could survive longer than a week in there. There wasn’t a single oasis or farm anywhere on that side of the desert, so if the caravans would stop coming the people would simply starve.

And that was why the encampment was the perfect place to breed slaves. Trallal didn’t need to worry about keeping enough soldiers to enforce order, or to hire enough slavers to train the slaves properly. If the slaves would rise up and take over the encampment, the slavers that escaped would head for the Thug’s wall and the slaves would be left alone for some time.

As there were no armed soldiers, there were no swords or bows to be taken by the slaves. Whips and sticks alone couldn’t possibly form an army strong enough to breach the passageway, dooming those slaves to be trapped in an uninhabitable desert. By the time Trallal’s enforcers had gathered and marched through the passageway, the surviving slaves were too weak and too broken to withstand.

The perfect setting for rising slaves.

In fact, allowing the slaves to rise up was one of Thallal’s favourite methods. His slavers need not hold back or follow techniques that required years of study and experience, so the profit to investment ratio was much greater than for other slave masters. The weak slaves had their will broken quickly and made for proper house servants, and those with a stronger will would realise the futility of resistance after an uprising.

Yes, especially in times of war and despair like now, with those immortals rising up in other parts of the world, the latter were in high demand. His battle slaves, whose will had been broken and whose life was deemed worthless by all including themselves, would fight these immortals without fear. They would see a horde close in without dropping morale, as they had no morale and felt no more instincts to save their worthless hide.

They were considered to be the best cost-efficient slave soldiers on the market. And soon enough people would realise that there were superior in absolute terms too, once the ‘superior slave breeding methods’ used by that arrogant prick Gorvar would be revealed for the worthless elitism it was.

Hmpf! Quality
 Slaves were the lowest of the low, how can those be superior to other slaves? As long as they obey and are willing to give up their life for their master


No, clearly Thallal’s methods were far better than that hogwash. In fact, he had already received reports that a new uprising was starting to brew in the encampment. Soon enough he’d have a whole new batch of broken-willed slaves to sell.

Yes, the slaves would rise up, the slavers who’re too slow will die while the ones who know when to run will survive, the slaves’ will shall be broken, they shall be sold and new slaves and slavers shall be gathered. It will be just like the last uprising. And the uprising before that one, and the uprising before that one, and


And what did it matter that some of the slaves were biting the slavers rather than fighting with their fists? They were just desperate slaves, how they rise up is irrelevant. And if they could stay fed a while longer through cannibalism they could be sold as monster slaves instead. No biggie.

Thallal shrugged the strange feeling of uneasiness off as he continued walking to the judging table. Enough worrying about the common issues of his job, he had a stupid ceremonial festival to attend to.

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You say exposition
I say we’re getting into a interesting character’s headspace :slight_smile:
I dig it, Mammon! You worldbuilded very carefully in this, wrote very nice and gave us a peek into our main/mean protagonist. Being a Warchief/King he would have issues with the shaman and how he deals with slave rebellions was just perfect, did you get that from history anywhere? Seems like something a Caesar would do.
I would LOVE to see more, colour me intrigued.

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