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Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1793824" data-attributes="member: 143">Since I'm not currently in a "live" game, I'm no longer buying new d20 stuff (I actually only have the 3.5 PH, and I use the SRD for everything else).  But if I see it at a store I'll make some notes in my PDA.  Or maybe one of my helpful readers can point out the gist of it...* * * * * Chapter 235Kavorek had been enjoying a pair of wenches when the scout returned.  Every warrior in the tribe knew that interrupting his interludes was a risky prospect, so he knew immediately that the matter was urgent.  He let the scout get off with a cuff that broke a few teeth, then tossed the wenches out and grabbed his breastplate and axe before stepping out into his antechamber to receive the report.  It was brief and to the point.  Kavorek might have suspected exaggeration, but he accurately read the fear in the survivors of the clash, and he was far too canny to make the mistake of underestimating travelers that would brave the northern Alamirs, even in summer. Well, no matter.  Now that the intrusion had been made, and his warriors killed, a response was necessary.  And even if these flatlanders were tough; well, his troops needed a bit of a blooding, before the raiding season began. And just maybe, these travelers might have a bit of loot themselves, to make it worthwhile. “The fists have assembled, Great One,” his second, Av’chek, said with a bow.  The action was a bit above himself, Kavorek thought; the assembly was his to call, not the province of a subordinate.  But he let it go, already feeling his blood begin to surge at the approach of the hunt.  Taking up his axe, he left the cave to stand upon the ledge at the end of the canyon. Before him the canyon stretched like a dagger thrust into the mountains.  The mouths of a hundred caves were visible, some screened by tacked furs, here or there the faded colors of woven cloth stolen from some flatland merchant or farmer.  But the war-leader’s attention was focused on the gathered warriors that filled the canyon.  Not a great host, but all one hundred and seventy seven orcs were fierce, skilled hunters.  As he appeared, they lifted their weapons in salute; morningstars, war axes, clubs, swords, spears, bows.  And at the forefront, the hammer of his army: six huge ogres, clad in breastplates of dull black metal, their visages masked by great black helms fashioned in the shape of a tusked skull.  They were tough even for their kind, barbarians he’d recruited from the Omlarandins to the north. Kavorek shifted his attention briefly to the shamans gathered to his left.  The leader of them was a scarred old witchdoctor named Uk’bek, who nodded deferentially, dipping his sacred totem staff.  Kavorek knew that the shamans resented his leadership over them, but he also knew that they feared his power, and the sheer might of his ogres. The huge orog stepped forward to the very lip of the edge.  “Enemies have entered our lands, brothers!” he cried, his booming voice filling the canyon and reverberating off its walls.  “It is time for the hunt!” As the orcs and ogres uttered a cry that shook the stones of the canyon, Kavorek lifted his huge axe above his head.  The blade caught the sunlight and blazed brightly, and suddenly erupted into actual flames, their ruddy light forming an unholy nimbus around the figure of the armored orog, driving his warriors into an even greater frenzy that promised death and blood to come.</blockquote>

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