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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Greppa of Tartwater" data-source="post: 983175" data-attributes="member: 10191">The Season PremiereHaving moved from the artistic respectability of PBS. L. A. T. D. premieres in its new slot on the WB right after "Smallville."  Series themesong (for this week at least) is "Frozen" by MadonnaI hate orcs. I don't think it's a racist thing to say. We have orcs in Theralis and they are very good people, good citizens. But when you take people out of the boundaries of good civilized life, all sorts of aberrations and oddities crop up. For example, the irritatingly exasperating habit of appearing out of the middle of nowhere. Shortly after crossing into Broken Knuckle territory, a scouting band materialized out of the forest. We had no idea they were there or how long they were watching. They were hideous, their skins daubed in black mud and decorated with leaves and bark. The leader advanced with his spear, tipped with a giant armor cat claw, leveled."Why are you here?" The scout group leader demanded in Eastern orcish.I found my voice and replied in my most urbane orc, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."He didn't miss a beat and said in Western orc, "Why are you here?"Great. He's bilingual."We're here to witness the greatness of the Broken Knuckle Clan, and partake of the wisdom of your ancestors by climbing Uggrahd to speak with them," I replied.Several beats passed and then he said "Come with us."It would have been a bad form to do a victory dance, so I nodded and we followed. The next few hours were very painful. No torture was involved, but we had to run at an orcish pace from where we entered their territory to where their warband was camped.Instead of being immediately bound like slaves, we were ushered into a tent and told to wait there. Merideth finally spoke after we were left alone, "This is going well so far."Bellos eyed her doubtfully, "How so. We're stuck here."She tapped her nose absently while she spoke, "Well, we're waiting in a tent to speak with someone. Greppa and I have been slaves before and they aren't treated anything like this. It usually involves lots of rope, tears, and gnashing of teeth.""We only have the teeth gnashing now," I said clutching my cramping side.Merideth laughed, Bellos didn't. "So what is the plan," Bellos asked.The smiles vanished, wiped by that rag of thought. "Appeal to their pride," I started. "There will undoubtedly be tests of some sort. We have to be as honest in our intentions as we possibly can.""And our intentions are?" Bellos asked.Despite our earlier talk, I still didn't trust him. He was a foreigner whose city had not met the wave of Clan Breaking Cat or the Tattered Tribes. He was thrust on us by a Goddess whose motives are questionable. He doesn't understand that I will do what I must to preserve Theralis. So I kept it simple. "Our intention is to get to the mountain. Nothing more nothing less. The answers we need are there."Merideth nodded. Bellos nodded and I turned my attention to not losing my breakfast because of our run.Several hours later, we were escorted from the tent and brought before a tall, powerful woman. Surprisingly, she was given the deference reserved for a warband leader. It was the first time we'd ever seen a woman commanding a warband.She was seven-and-a-half feet tall and loaded with muscle. Which meant she was tremendously attractive for an orc. Her face was brutishly handsome and her black hair was pulled back severely from her face, caught up in intricate braiding. She regarded us carefully, watching us for several minutes before addressing us."My scout leader said that you want to climb the mountain," she began.I nodded, "yes.""Why?"I tried to think of some thing to say, but nothing came up, breakfast's effort not withstanding. So I temporized and said to her what I said to the scout leader,"Word of the strength and wisdom of the ancestors of the Broken Knuckle Clan has spread wide and we seek to meet that wisdom."She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she was thoughtful and did not ask more questions. "Stay here and rest," she said. "A shaman will come to speak with you."She left and we heard the drums begin. We didn't know what the rhythms meant, but in a candlemark or so, a young man clad in the trappings of a shaman stepped into our tent, accompanied by the warband leader. Suspicion and arrogance clung about his face, clearly he thought he had more important things to do.He said sat down and said "So you want to climb our mountain?"We all nodded."You will probably die."We shrugged."Horribly."We shrugged."What do you have to trade?" Merideth glanced at me, nodding her head firmly. We had only one thing to offer outside of Merideth's healing which she firmly believed in concealing. Shamanic healing seemed to be painful and not always welcome. Merideth wanted to keep it that way.I said to the young shaman, "I can increase the durability and strength of a hunting party for a day."He looked skeptical, but the warband leader said, "Can you demonstrate this ability?"I nodded firmly.We left the tent and walked to a clear area in the camp. With about 10 spears pressed against various sensitive spots on my body, and I cast Earth's Skin and Earth's Strength into the warband leader.Her face went slack with pleasure as she felt the power surge through her. She picked up the closest orc and pressed him above her head. She looked fierce and exultant. He looked like he wanted to get married.Emboldened, she told several tribe members to throw daggers at her. They complied and marveled (as did she) as the vicious little things bounced off or embedded shallowly in her skin.She grinned, showing fierce white teeth. She gathered herself with astonishing speed and looked meaningfully at the shaman, who looked as if someone had peed in his beer and expected him to drink it."I think that we can arrange something for such a trade," The warband leader said.The young shaman nodded curtly and walked away a bit. He chanted loudly and raised his staff to the air. Then he was silent, listening to something unseen.He returned to where we were waiting. He was mad."Come with me," He snipped.I didn't know orcs could be snippy until that moment. The warband leader nodded respectfully. Her eyes, however, were exultant. She must have achieved some sort of social coup because several of the warband members (especially the one she lifted over her head) watched her with increased admiration.Oblivious to the intricacies of the exchange, we followed the young shaman to a nearby copse of trees. He called out in a dialect of orc we could not follow. It wasn't eastern or western orc.Four wolves, bigger than the horses used to pull freight wagons in Theralis, emerged from the trees. The young shaman started to chant, launching into an intricate dance, tracing sigils and circles in the air.Bellos's eyes narrowed."Is that what I think it is?" He asked.The words had an orcish tint and the circle was facing the sky instead of outward, but the sigils confirmed it. The shaman was casting arcane magic. Arcanist magic.How in the hell did the Broken Knuckle orcs get arcane magic? Maybe Hurath was still alive? I raced along that line of (highly emotional) reasoning thinking, "he could have taught them arcane magic in exchange for freedom. Unless he's under some sort of compulsion. Even then, he would need to be rescued."I turned my attention back to the shaman. After completing the casting, he laid hands on each of the wolves. Winded, he swung onto the back of one of the wolves and beckoned us to do the same.I climbed on, grabbing a handful of fur to hold onto, hoping I wasn't hurting it.In a few moments I didn't care if I ripped out a patch of hair. As a group,the animals loped into the sky. I could feel the wolf trembling as it ran diffidently through the air. It did not like to fly apparently, but it obediently followed the lead wolf ridden by the shaman.Bellos was grinning. He was enjoying himself.Merideth looked troubled. I was with her. The giant wolves were bad enough, but augmented by arcane magic the possibilities were worse.We were now traveling north. I just held on. It was one thing to fly under one's own power but this...this was just unnatural.After about an half an hour of flying, we landed but we didn't stop. The wolves sped up.  No longer hampered by a fear of flying, they ran, pushing our surroundings to a blur. By dusk, we arrived at another warband camp and halted.Apparently rested by our journey, the young shaman hopped off his wolf jerking his head in a direction to follow. I slid painfully from back of my wolf, jumping up and down for several moments to restore feeling to my nether-regions. I could see Merideth cheating. Okay she wasn't cheating but she was using her healing to mitigate the discomfort and bloody Bellos seemed fine. I know it was irrational, but for a moment I really didn't like that man.We were ushered into the presence of an ancient female shaman. Her hair was wild and yellowed with age, and she regarded us distantly as the young shaman related to her the events in the warband camp.The distance faded as he told her about the warleader and what she could do under the influence of my spells."You," she said, locking eyes with me, "My name is Gruhaa." She paused collecting her words, "My warband will be fighting a war against one of the northern tribes soon. These abilities you can bestow would be very useful. Would you be willing to accompany us and use your abilities on as many as you are able?"[[Gruhaa means roughly, "the good now".]]I thought for several moments remembering how long our summer battles usually last, "How long will the campaign last?""It will be a long campaign," she said. "At least two weeks."Huh? I couldn't keep the surprise out of my face, "Who will you be fighting?""One of the northern orc tribes. They are strong and will be troublesome, which is why it will take so long," she replied."So, if I use my spells on your troops, you'll let us climb the mountain?""And give you safe passage to the heart of the Broken Knuckle people,"she finished.Merideth grabbed my hand and started to squeeze the life out of it."Um, I need to discuss this with my companions."She nodded, "Of course," and stepped from the tent taking the young shamanwith her.As soon as they were out of earshot..."I don't want to do this," Merideth said her pale face stony. "I don't wantto help them kill other people.""Bellos," I asked, "how do you feel about this?""I don't," he said. "They're orcs."Merideth looked a little shocked but I spoke before she could launch into a heroic speech, "They aren't our people. They are not Theralis. We don't have to actually fight and we will stay well behind the front lines." I held her shoulders. "I'm sorry Merideth."She started yelling at me. She knew I was going to do it so she decided that I needed all of the guilt she would build up. ***The first shock of making war with the Broken Knuckle Clan was how they utilized their magic. Gruhaa told me to use Earth's Skin and Earth's Strength on the giant wolves. I didn't understand at first. There were far more people in the warband, and they themselves were outnumbered by the tribe they faced. Then she raised her voice to the forest.A roiling thundercloud accompanied the warbands of the Broken Knuckle tribe casting an impressive tableau with the old growth forest. The Shamaness intensified her chanting, ending with a piercing howl.The forest shivered and hundreds of giant wolves streamed from between the trees. From above, it must have looked as if the the forest was hemorrhaging canines. I started augmenting them as they came to me. I don't know how many I did before I felt my grip on consciousness slip.The Shamaness caught me. "That's enough," she said, "Your guard will take you back to the camp to rest. Come back when you are rested."Bellos, not having any obvious magical talents, was content to pass himself off as the physical security for the two physically slight spell casters. It also gave him a certain amount of freedom since he wasn't being pursued by other orcs trying to get a favor from him"You know that language the shaman's speak when they cast their spells?" Bellos said. "It's old orc. They say its the only language the Ancestors truly understand""Old orc?""Yep," he finished. "I think we should get Merideth and come back to the rear of the front. If things go bad before you've recovered I can carry you.""What's on your mind?"His face became thoughtful, "If these are the orc's we'll eventually face, we have a chance to see them fight."Despite the contrary nature my fatigue brought, I couldn't find any holes in his reasoning. Not that I was trying. I wondered what the boogieman of orcdom had to bring to its adversaries.Merideth was already close to the front, having arranged small deals for healing among the infantry. In the process she managed to find out a lot and provided a narration as we watched the battle begin.It wasn't pretty, it was beautiful, in a bone breaking, blood flowing kind of way.The second shock of Broken Knuckle combat hit. The wolves weren't the first line of attack. There were three ranks of orcs in front of them."The first rank is composed of the weakest warriors," Merideth supplied. "They're a sacrificial line used to open up the enemy front." She smiled weakly, "They were the ones who most desperately wanted healing. I told them I'd help if they made it back this far."I nodded and watched, as the first rank met the unknown tribe. Broken Knuckle's opponents were good, not as good as Breaking Cat, but good nonetheless. They met the first two ranks and held fast. However, the third rank was composed of shamen and their guards. The casters unleashed freezing and flaying spirits into the enemy ranks like Breaking Cat's spirit workers did to us not so long ago.Under the two pronged attack, the front rank of the unnamed tribe collapsed. However, the unnamed tribe had a surprise of their own. A giant, boulder in hand, charged forward from the rear of the unnamed orcs lines.Gruhaa's voice rang out, harsh and guttural.The storm cloud answered. It rippled and convulsed, vomiting an immense, coruscating lash of lightning. The battlefield grew a second sun as the column of skyfire enveloped the giant. The glow departed leaving a caramelized corpse frozen in a final plea for mercy.The unknown orc's lines broke. Then the wolves attacked.That was the first day. The entire war took about a week. And then we watched as the survivors were roped into slave lines. Merideth and I's nerve wavered as we relived our earlier capture, but we borrowed Bellos' indifference to the suffering of the unnamed tribe and focused on getting to Uggrahd.***************************************************The slave march took a week to reach the center of Broken Knuckle territory. Two days before we arrived, Gruhaa called us to her tent."Your aid was instrumental in making this a short war. We'd like you to partake of the spoils. You may choose slaves from the captured for yourself."My skin tightened, but Merideth replied first, "I'm sorry, but we can't."The Shamaness looked genuinely surprised, "but why not?"I found my voice, "We have traveled a very long way and slaves would only slow us down. We'd have to watch them and break them and we must move quickly.""Are you sure?" She asked.I nodded. All of a sudden, I felt better. I felt the right worlds come. "This is a great honor," I began, "But we cannot accept. It is thanks enough that we be allowed to scale Uggrahd and meet the ancestors."She looked troubled but she dismissed us.Two days later and we were at the heart of Broken Knuckle territory. There wasn't a sky at the seat of Broken Knuckly power, there was only Uggrahd. The mountain became the horizon and it's presence loomed heavily. In theory it's presence should be comforting, but for me it was gauche. A monument to the strength and egotism of its people. It was another of those irrational feelings. The mountain was truly magnificent.Merideth was speechless. Having missed the sight on the way in, she'd become increasingly introverted as we neared the base of the spire.Bellos looked thoughtful, but he didn't say much.Once we arrived, the slaves were taken to some sort of bazaar where representatives from several warbands who did not participate in the fighting began perusing the new crop. It was strange and it confirmed something that the outlying tribes told us.Slaves weren't concentrated among the bands who captured them. They were scattered among the warbands. Eventually they stopped thinking of themselves as whatever they were when they captured. They were all Broken Knuckle. It was disturbingly similar to what we were planning for Theralis.We were ushered into a pavilion-sized tent. There was a small audience already there. We saw the young shaman who introduced us to the Old Shamaness. He spared us a glance and then ducked out. We settled into our seats and waited to see what would come next.The tent flap parted and Olgah walked into the tent. She was older, and her face was much harsher than we remembered, but she was unbowed by time. The shock didn't have time to register. She locked eyes with us, smiled and retreated behind the flap.At least I knew where they got arcane magic. But I didn't have time to dwell on it because the Chief of the Broken Knuckle orcs entered the room with Olgah at his side. He was over 8 ft. tall and clad metal clothing cobbled together from other suits and jury rigged into a covering for his immense body. His face was huge and expressive, a tableau for his numerous scars and the look of bemused contempt he directed at us. In his hand was a huge spear as long as he was, topped with a two-foot long steel spear head with a metal feather big as the spear head itself jutting away from the where the head met the staff."So these are the ones who wish to climb Uggrahd." He looked over each of us. "It is not an easy task and you will probably die horribly. Are you sure this is what you want?"We nodded firmly."So be it. As our custom, if you wish to climb the mountain you may, but you will have no help from anyone.""We understand," I said. "Thank you."He laughed condescendingly and left the tent. Olgah spared us a glance and followed him.</blockquote>

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