Musings of an Orc 001 - From the Middle

I feel it is perhaps time I started to chronicle both the unfolding events and some of my past. My feet are on the path that will lead to the founding of House Grey, and it is only right that future generations know of their lineage.

After years of wandering the frontiers of civilisation, I have inadvertently ended up in the employ of a Lord. He has hired himself a group of sell swords and is purging barbarism from the area surrounding his castle, with the ultimate goal of crushing Rappan Athuk. I decided to apply myself to this worthy task and only found out later that he was nobility. Happy coincidence indeed. While he is weak and needs rescuing from the most innocuous situations, he doesn't let that deter him. He does not ask anything of us that he is unwilling to do himself. I respect that. It should also be mentioned that he is a Tengu - in my idle moments I find myself wondering how much he tastes like chicken. Despite my curiosity, I should keep him alive. He might be the means by which I fulfill my promise.

Also of note is the Halforc. He has embraced the ways of our ancestral enemy which is unusual enough, and he carries himself with an air that reminds me of my mother - may Telophus and Vanitthu nourish and protect her soul. I do not yet know of his role in my destiny, perhaps he serves to remind me that all are equal in the eyes of the law. Or perhaps he is nothing more but a reminder of my past. Either way, I am glad to have met him.

The remainder are a rag-tag bunch of humanoids. I do not much care for them. They squabble and argue and babble about truth and justice and goodness. Then a light breeze comes, they fall over and start to bleed out. May the Gods grant me the patience to see this through to the end.

My journey with the Company thus far has been somewhat uneventful. We have killed a couple of groups of bandits and ventured into the Mouth of Doom. Strangely enough, the dungeon itself is more of a hazard than its inhabitants. The place is rife with traps and, judging by the frequency of the cave-ins, made by dwarves. Or kobolds. Or kobolds riding dwarves. Nothing would surprise me any more. The monsters found so far could serve as a bestiary check list. Jellies and oozes and blood suckers. All deserving of death, but hardly something one celebrates about after a victory.

Next time I shall pen something about my years of wandering. It was not a grand time, but one I would do well not to forget either.

Kruin 1 - notes on killing druids

The folk a my village always wanted to be one of them nature witches.  They said that the great cyclone raging when I was born left summin in me, that’s why ma eyes turned out the colour o the sky, and that it was the will of ole’ mighty Jah that I should learn to bend nature to serve ma people.  What a load a backwash.

I picked up the lightnin thing pretty fast, that was always good for snagging passing fish and such, and some other lil’ jank tricks came along, but eventually the ole grandmamma of my village said she’d had enough a tryin to teach me, I was too angry or flighty or some bull.  Kinda rich complaining I was flighty when they were so keen on making me control air an all.  Stupid people.

Anyway, other day I actually met one a these nature witch folk.  Was out hunting cause the folk I’ve been trawling them ruins with all managed to get themselves poisoned, or drained a blood, or set afire by stuff down in the undergrounds and they needed someone to feed them like a bunch of little babies only just getting used to life away from their mumma’s tit.

Anyway, I found a couple o beasties that soon ran off, I never ben keen on bows, but I probbly shoulda bought one with me huntin, ma lightning just don’t stretch far enough to nab most critters.  But then I found a nice little patch o mulberry trees, figured that’d feed the sick little babes good enough.  Got a full good harvest a them and took em back to that castle they all holed up in.

They mostly still were lyeing around complaining about poison in their blood the next day too, so I went back over near them trees see what more stuff I could find.  Bunch a wolves there this time, actin kind of funny looking my way, not like normal beasties ten ta act.  Then some nature witch actually appeared and told me these were her trees.  Since when do those type a folk lay claim to patches o land? Shades reckons he owns all the land around that castle, not sure if anyone else cares for that claim, but whatever the case, this dirty woman don’t own it.

I shouted at her a bit and she started pulling lightnin on me.  Just cause you can shoot the stuff out, don’t mean you’re safe from it, and her and her puppies didn’t seem like a good fight to have by myself, so I shouted at her an left.  Now I need to head back.

I figure best way to get this dirty witch be to burn down her trees, maybe if Jah is smilin on me she’ll be in one, lyeing with a wolf or summin, when they burn.  If not maybe I need to have a chat to the big ole crow that lives in the tower (the flyin one, not Shades) and tell him where he can find some tastey tame wolves to chew on. 

Or I could use some o the slime we found yesterday to eat her trees, her wolves an her all up.  I found you can use the stuff to cure poison, dropped some on the face o that fella Jax after he got hit with a dart.  Folk kept telling me not ta but for all their spirit magic in the dwarf and that orc with the tattoos they didn’t do any good. Eventually I put the slime on him anyway, and he got better, but then the other orc blew the room up, and poor fella ended up dieing despite ma help.  May he meet Jah light.  Maybe if they hadn’t gotten in ma way slime coulda saved him in time.  Anyway, the slimes eat plants and animals and spreads like the sea breaching a harbour, so maybe it’ll eat that witch’s trees.  That elf with all the bottles (who got him self all hurt trying to save me from a big ole snake, nice fella) kept some, so maybe there’s a night time run over to them trees on the cards soon...

Shades 004: Where a Rook Rests (Expedition 0)

Now I ain't a superstitious bird, but I can certainly entertain the odd flight o' fancy should the opportunity strike me. The Castle Calaelen rock has had a fair pile o' deed-holders. Some o' them are long-lived folk who fell upon desperate times and needed the gold in a pinch, or foolhardy hatchwits who pissed their gold away and used it to settle a mean gamblin' debt. Some o' them also gotta be dead, the rock's so old, and if those departed souls bothered to turn from whatever fancy afterlives they got and take a glance at their old keep, well I'd say that maybe they'd be a mite entertained today.

I ain't gonna lie it weren't pretty or glorious or like any elabourate yarn weaved by some king's royal bard. It was a bird and his eight-strong posse clobberin' the ever-lovin' shit outta some muckdwellin' kobolds and gnolls. And that's gotta be more blood-boilin' and excitin' than some deadswill dead-party packed with dead folk reminiscin' on how they died.

On the ride to the castle we spied this dank cave. The half-orc, the dwarf and the catfolk were all over that like it weren't no-one's business. When you're itchin' for a scrap I guess you just gotta scratch it, even when it's stirges. I went to oversee how this adventurous spirit would fly. Sure, the paladin mighta tried to swat the stirge latchin' onto his face with his hammer, and actually succeeded, but ultimately they all made a short bloody job o' the bugs and found a good spot o' coin amongst their litter. All smeared in bugshit o' course but coin is coin.

The next tussle was with them rude nasty gnolls guardin' the entrance o' my rightful castle. The faces on those mangy fur-chewers when they got acquainted with the business end o' my gun were precious. Finally got to see some o' the spell-slingers liftin' their fingers, addin' magic missiles and lightnin' bolts to the barrage. The half-orc got himself in a bit o' a precarious dance near the fine edge o' the bridge, but overall none too shabby. That's the last time any o' those gnolls will have the gizzard to tell a bird to get bent, on account o' them bein' dead.

Somethin' up in the most dilapidated tower screeched somethin' ghastly durin' that fray. Turns out it was a monster o' a crow with demons in its blood. O' course the new recruits took a moment to note the likeness between it and yours truly, but what's a bird to do. Certainly not make rude comments about the thing's devil mother, that's for sure. I know how mine can get.

One by dog-faced one the posse and I either scattered or slaughtered the kobolds holin' up in Calaelen itself. Lead by some delusional yippin' rat bastard by the name o' Jibjack, they got themselves set up in what might've been the original dining room o' the castle. What do you know, kobolds got themselves names now.

The resultin' scrap weren't our best. Agamemnon got himself all tangled in a net almost immediately, cuttin' him right out. Amerasu seemed to have contracted some nasty case o' missin-every-fuckin'-thing-she-aimed-at. Shnookums must've gotten himself all confused now that the enemy weren't on his face anymore- I had to get in there personally and behead Jibjack myself. However the sorcerors well and truly held their own against the kobolds' slings, as did Jax with a dagger in each hand and a backflip in each foot. The little rats were inaccurate with their weapons like you wouldn't believe, but as my keelbone will attest, when they hit, they hit good.

Havin' gone and murdered little Jibjack at that point we quite certain we had run all the unwelcome blighters clean out o' the castle. Had our guards down and our stupids up. A kobold cleric with an angry black mace and some skeletal underlin's in tow got the drop on us whilst Jax was failin' to get the master roost door open. I know I'm payin' Jax for somethin', but it ain't lock-fussin' for almost half an hour and still failin' to get inside without a key. The changelin' sorceror took the brunt o' the ambush, and by brunt I mean the roughest skeleton o' the pack with nasty ol' greatsword right to the face. The fragile thing was knocked out and dyin' instantly. I swear I was that close dockin' that damn river pirate's pay for all this mess, but then he almost literally danced past the undead and took the fight to the mean ol' boss man himself. Well, the mean ol' boss lizard at the very least.

It was lookin' right grim in the middle there, but after takin' out a small skeleton the rest o' them fell, and the big nasty bag o' bones quite nearly exploded on its own once the cleric was taken care of. Agamemnon got in and stabilized the changelin' in time. Jax's fussin' might've gotten us into deep trouble, but I'll gotta hand it to him, his smart tactics dragged the lot o' us out again mostly intact.

Overall, we cleared the flea-bitten varmints out o' the Calaelen rock, and no one done fucked up hard enough to get anyone killed for real. A part o' me hopes that once all the evil shrines, debris, and bodies are cleaned out the castle will start lookin' like a castle, but rest o' me knows that I'm more likely just gonna find more shit under all that shit. At least the smithy's in full workin' order, and I have some semi-reliable recruits to help get this business venture in the air.

An excerpt from the writings of a ranger

We are a highly guarded people. We do not readily share our secrets. We rarely write as we believe words have power that can be easily abused if they fall into the wrong hands. However, I have been promised a reward that may one day save my life for writing this journal entry for the company, so I have decided that this is worth the risk. I will not commit names to paper as that is too great a taboo to break, even for such as myself. Writing is not a skill my people value, I am not even really sure of the proper etiquette required and there are many details that I will omit simply because I was too busy surviving to observe every step the company took.

I did not attend the company's first outing to the underground caverns for reasons that will never be shared, particularly in written form, however they did all survive that jaunt and manage to return to the Castle seemingly intact. They are a very strange assortment of characters, I will endeavour not to let my personal judgement cloud these writings.

For the company's second expedition return to the caverns, we were lead into danger by our leader. I wonder what secrets he hides to have received lordship over this land so full of monsters and bandits. The company consisted of our brave leader, the sorceresses, the rogue, the scythe carrying behemoth, the paladin and the cleric. The last two did not seem quite like themselves, as if their spirits were off journeying rather than tethered to their physical forms. I wonder if perhaps this is something to do with their racial origins, though this is not for me to speculate on idly. Although I do wish to talk to the cleric about this matter another time.

Rather than travel by horse and risk the hired creatures being taken by one of the many dangers that lurks in this land, the company elected to travel on foot. It is not a long walk and I prefer to be on my feet in case of danger. With my superior vision I managed to spot a reflective surface in the distance, the rogue and I scouted ahead to look for any possible dangers. This is a task I always enjoy. I am in possession of such finely tuned senses, it is always delightful to be able to utilise them. We spotted tracks made by well shod horses but as they did not lead in a direction that was of interest to us, we did not pursue this any further. The rogue spotted a creature flying in the distance, too far even for I to ascertain its identity. A mystery for another day. Once we reached the entrance, we discovered more tracks which vanished leading to the were-pony theory. If something strange is discovered, it oft seems to be attributed to were-beasts. I wonder at the minds of those in this company.

The company chose to explore new areas rather than revisit those previously visited. Our leader was wise to employ the rogue as he is very talented at finding traps, of which there are many in such a dark place as this. In one pit trap bones covered in a mysterious black substance were discovered, the less insane sorceress took one to give to a business associate in the river town who is sure to find a use for such a macabre item. Our extremely large companion did an excessive amount of damage to the first monster we encountered, which was a stirge, which of course meant more stirges were nearby. How ghastly. They do so love to grapple the paladin, perhaps they have heard of his "hammer to the face" technique of fighting. This chamber also contained mysterious pools. The less insane sorceress shares my feelings about water and so we stood back from the company as they flailed fussing about magical water and apparently attempting to drown themselves. I seem to keep strange company at present.

Not long afterwards, we entered what appeared to be part of a catacomb. The walls were lined with skeletons. Bizarre. Though this was quickly surpassed by the oversized iron cobras. They were difficult to destroy, though worth it for the money underneath them. They were designed to spit poison and the money was to buy poison refills. They had been neglected for some time and were no longer serving their function.

There was a room full of dead spiders which was covered in cobwebs. The rogue set fire to the webs to make sure we were not going to be attacked by something sticky. Cobwebs are ever so difficult to clean off ones fur. Though he is sometimes rash, the rogue generally acts for the good of the company. This is unusual for their kind, but I shall not question this as he is always proving his usefulness.

The company continued to quibble over direction, I did not care for this as it was a distraction from the task at hand. It almost seemed as if they were speaking to a force outside of us all, fighting against the will of a larger creature. I oft sense as if there is more than appears to this plane.

We encountered giant centipedes. It is to be expected that many of the creatures we must fight are bugs when we are underground. I just wish they were not all so large. It is unnerving.

Several of the company were rendered unconscious by some kind of poison gas which filled one of the chambers. There were bodies of the fallen dead in the room, we quickly rescued our companions from danger before such a fate befell them. It seemed as if the caverns were desirous of our blood as we were caught in a cave in. Our leader was almost killed by the rubble, twas fortunate for him that our party contains sufficient members whose skills include heavy lifting. As this is not one of my skills, I did my best to stay out of the way of further danger. I am fleet of foot and so managed to survive the catastrophe with little more than bruising and being coated in dust. My fur became an entirely different colour. Charming. Once all the party were clear of the danger, we made a hasty exit. Returning to the Castle was the safest option, recovery was sorely needed by all, especially our stoutest members. The other party members were insistent that the cleric and the paladin were to snuggle up for healing purposes. Perhaps those who share a common heritage can accelerate healing simply because of this. It is of no concern of mine. It is unlikely that those of my heritage will be found in such parts so it is not something I need to consider at this point.

The lightning loving sorceress went off to hunt and came back only with mulberries. The smells she emitted suggested she had done more than collect mulberries. I smelt fear and indecision, I suspect things had not gone quite to her wishes. The rogue and the woman who appears to be working for our leader in a steward's capacity went into the town on the river to sell some of the loot we had uncovered and to find more information, always a handy thing to have. They brought back news of a pilgrimage for dead gods. Is there no limits to the insanity of the common folk? They now revere the gods their ancestors saw as no longer fit for worship, methinks there is a certain perversity to this behaviour. They approached the Castle begging for alms, our lord donated silvers to them and promised to look out for a missing pilgrim. I wonder how this will affect our next set of adventures.