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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 3335430" data-attributes="member: 5203">As the sun rose, the scene became clearer.&nbsp; The moving dunes were actually a massive horde of orcs, tens of thousands strong.&nbsp; Keth’s war banner was the most prominent within the horde, and several other clan banners had Clan Hulg’s symbol incorporated into their own design.&nbsp; To the south, the rapidly approaching ships were finally identified – as gnomish warships of the Pecish Navy*.&nbsp; The fleet, which already numbered several dozen vessels, was growing larger by the second as new ships would suddenly pop into sight, the telltale shimmer of dissipating illusion magic revealing their presence.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “So that’s where the gnomes went!” Arrie and Tolly exclaimed in unison.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Eventually, two small rowboats approached the Armadillo; one carrying a gnomish officer, the other an orcish warrior.&nbsp; Once on board, they were formally introduced, and then presented to the party.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “This is Warchief Ghraz of Clan Lorr, sub-chieftain to High Warchief Heth,” Talia said.&nbsp; “And this is Vice Admiral Nabbidosh of the Provincial National Navy.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Do you have a conference room where we could meet?” Admiral Nabbidosh asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “We can convert the galley,” Autumn offered, even as Kyle was ordering his elvish crew to make the arrangements.&nbsp; A few minutes later, everyone was gathered around two long galley tables that had been pushed together.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “A few months ago, during the diplomatic conference held in Tlaxan,” Talia began, “there were a number of… less public meetings held, among them a meeting between the governments of what we now call the Alliance and representatives of then-Warchief Keth, as to how best to bring the orcs of the Haran into the conflict.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Good,” Tolly said.&nbsp; “I was hoping that something was actually getting done at that conference.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Keth had agreed to rally as many tribes as he could under his banner,” Talia continued, “which, given his already considerable influence in the region, was a large amount.&nbsp; The main problem was transporting them to the front.&nbsp; Targeth would not consent to allowing several legions of orcs passage through their shield barrier, and the mountains of the Dwarven Confederates are all but impassable from the Haran, especially in winter.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “And so,” Admiral Nabbidosh interjected, “Overgovernor Garlen agreed to put the Pecish Navy at their disposal.&nbsp; Our fleet set sail under the guise of mounting a direct offensive against the approaching Tauric fleet, and then feigned our ‘disappearance’ with the use of illusion magic and counter-scrying.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “So you sailed south around the continent to come here,” Kyle said.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Exactly.&nbsp; We are here to pick up the orc legions, and then attack the Taurics in a surprise flanking maneuver.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Fantastic!” Osborn exclaimed.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “So how do we come into play?” Autumn asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “You were sent to act as the rendezvous point for the operation,” Warchief Ghraz said, “and to act as a flagship for the fleet.&nbsp; Your vessel is one of only five heavy ships of war in Affon, and so it was thought that you stood the best chance of surviving the voyage through enemy waters to arrive her.&nbsp; Now,your presence will be a rallying point for both the gnomes and the orcs.&nbsp; Besides, with your cannon you will be able to neutralize ships from a great distance, which will prevent the Taurics from spotting our armada and going to warn their superiors.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn leaned over to Kyle.&nbsp; “What exactly is the range on that thing, anyway?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “About two miles.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “There has been considerable effort made to time this rendezvous precisely,” Nabbidosh said, “and we have a tight schedule to keep.&nbsp; We will need to have the entire orc army boarded within two days.&nbsp; Naturally, we are hoping that you can provide some logistical support.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Of course,” Tolly said.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “We would like to meet with High Warchief Keth,” Arrie interjected.&nbsp; “We have an important subject to discuss with him before we set sail.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “A ceremony, actually,” Autumn added.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “The High Warchief was expecting you,” Ghraz said.&nbsp; “Is this ceremony something that he will have to prepare for?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Very likely,” Autumn said.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Then we should go to see him soon.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Excuse me,” Admiral Nabbidosh said, “but is this something that my people should be preparing for as well?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “We’ll leave the final decision up to Keth,” Arrie said, “but I’m sure that you will be invited to attend as honored guests.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I was going to suggest that all of the command staff from both forces be invited to breakfast with us tomorrow morning,” Autumn said.&nbsp; “Perhaps we could discuss the details then.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Very well.”&nbsp; Everyone stood up.&nbsp; “I will return to shore and wait to escort you to the High Warchief,” Ghraz said.&nbsp; With that, everyone returned to the main deck and began boarding their ships; Talia went over to the navy with Nabbidosh to speak with the other admirals.&nbsp; Soon the Legacy was left standing alone on deck.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Now, just to make sure,” Kyle said, “everyone’s okay with giving Keth the crown?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Arrie looked over at the teeming mass of orcs on the beach.&nbsp; “At this point, it’s not exactly like it’s going to change things much.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “The amount of goodwill that will be created by giving the Crown of the Orcish King to Keth more than outweighs any risks of uniting the orcs under a single leader,” Tolly said.&nbsp; “Besides, Keth is a lawful being, and it will be good to see the firm hand of Law brought to these lands.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “And if there are any clans that aren’t supporting Keth now,” Osborn added, “they will once he’s crowned.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Just wanted everyone to have a chance to voice any dissent,” Kyle said.&nbsp; “We have been carrying that thing around for a long time because we were afraid of the consequences of giving it away.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; They agreed to have Autumn and Osborn go meet Keth, though for safety the portable hole with the Crown (and other items of interest) was left on the Armadillo.&nbsp; They met up with Warchief Ghraz, and were quickly led straight through the orcish legions to Keth’s command tent.&nbsp; The tent was huge, and well guarded, and when Autumn and Osborn passed through the entrance, they noticed that the beaded curtain across the opening was made from lead beads, most likely meant to interfere with scrying without being too unwieldy to transport through the desert.&nbsp; Most likely strands of similar beads had been sewn into the entire tent.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Keth himself was sitting on a large wooden throne in the middle of the tent, flanked by his wives, guards, and advisors.&nbsp; By orcish standards, the throne was highly ornate, though still solidly built, looking like it had been carved from a large slab of volcanic rock.&nbsp; It was a sure sign of Keth’s power that a seat such as this was being hauled all over the desert.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “It is good to see you again, clan-brother,” Keth said to Osborn as he and Autumn approached and bowed.&nbsp; “And you as well, sentinel.”&nbsp; He glanced at Autumn’s wings.&nbsp; “I see your status among your kind has grown.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “As has yours, High Warchief,” Autumn replied.&nbsp; “And it is for exactly that reason that we have come.”&nbsp; Keth’s eyebrow arched.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “We have come across an item in our travels,” Osborn said.&nbsp; “An artifact of great importance to you.&nbsp; We wish to bestow this item on you with a proper ceremony.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “What is this artifact?”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn approached Keth’s throne, pausing only a moment as Keth waved away the suddenly tense guards in the tent.&nbsp; Autumn leaned in close to whisper the information in Keth’s ear.&nbsp; Osborn heard one of Keth’s advisors mutter a crude joke about how the artifact must be ‘the silken tongue of an aasimar’ and some suggestions on how best to use it, which made him glad that Kyle hadn’t come with them.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “You can understand why we would want to make this a public affair when it’s presented,” Autumn said as she stepped back.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Indeed,” Keth said, his mind whirling.&nbsp; “For this to come to me now, during Grabâkh’s holy days… it is a great omen.&nbsp; I will have to speak with the gnomish commander.&nbsp; This may change our plans.”&nbsp; He stood up suddenly.&nbsp; “We will do it tonight, amidst the sacred fires.&nbsp; I must give instructions to my high priests.”&nbsp; He began to walk out of the tent, but then turned and grabbed the ears of the two guards closest to him, yanking their heads close.&nbsp; “If you heard something, you heard nothing!&nbsp; Clear?”&nbsp; The two guards nodded as best they could.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Releasing the guards, Keth strode outside, followed by Autumn and Osborn.&nbsp; Once out of the tent, he waved over an orcish lieutenant, who came running up with a chest-crushing salute.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Inform my advisor Kashok that his warchief wishes for him to visit the pleasure tents this evening.&nbsp; Escort him there yourself.&nbsp; When you arrive, you may inform him that he is there to serve his clan, have him stripped and bound, and allow those with the inclination to use him as they wish.&nbsp; Perhaps then he will learn to mind his tongue when speaking about our honored guests.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The lieutenant saluted again and went into the command tent, as Keth strode off toward the shore.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “What was that all about?” Autumn asked.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “You probably don’t want the details,” Osborn said, “let’s just say that Keth's hearing is good, and he is definitely not lax in the discipline department.”*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The sun had set hours ago, and so the barren desert should have been freezing.&nbsp; But the hundreds of huge bonfires that burned brightly throughout the orc encampment made the night feel like a sweltering summer day.&nbsp; The orcs had gathered around a large dune, pressing as close as they could to see the events before them.&nbsp; Near the top of the dune, a small contingent of gnomes in formal uniforms stood nervously witnessing the proceedings, clearly ill at ease being surrounded by so many orcs at the height of the Time of Burning.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Just as the clamoring of the horde was about to reach a fevered pitch, everyone suddenly fell silent as if on some unseen cue.&nbsp; Then the drums began.&nbsp; It was a frenetic, erratic beat that at first seemed to have no rhythm or meter at all.&nbsp; But then the orcs began to join in; some beat swords against shields, others stamped heavy boots into the sand, and others began to shout guttural chants.&nbsp; At first it seemed like a cacophony of noise, no one performer matching his neighbor.&nbsp; But those trained to listen would hear that the drums beat in unison with the drums, the shields were struck with the same rhythm, each boot stomp and shout was perfectly synchronized.&nbsp; The warsong took on an almost hypnotic quality for those within the horde; for the thousands of gnomish sailors, listening to the ceremony from afar, it sounded as though the desert itself had suddenly burst into flames and was being consumed.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; As suddenly as it had started, it stopped.&nbsp; Then the voices of the priests rang out across the gathering, with the answering cries shouted at a deafening roar.“Kas grazil duro’rashik!” (“The fires of our Lord consume us!”)Mojh rashan Grabâkh! (Praise to Grabâkh the destroyer!)“Kas grazil duro’pashai!” (“The fires of our Lord purify us!”)Mojh pashan Grabâkh! (Praise to Grabâkh the purifier!)“Duro’jahakar du kas grazil!” (“We are reborn from the fires of our Lord!”)Nas dur Grabanar, vor grazos Grabhül!&nbsp; (His Eye sees all, his Wrath shall burn forever!)&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; The chant continued, nonstop, even as the crowds began to part to let a single figure through to the top of the dune.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Autumn walked slowly up the hill, looking regal in gleaming plate armor, her wings pulled up behind her like a cloak of white feathers.&nbsp; In her hands she held a heavy crown fashioned of solid adamantium, with irregular crests styled like leaping flames.&nbsp; The crown was adorned with enormous rubies, fire opals, and garnets.&nbsp; An inscription in Orcish ran around the brow, carved deep into the metal.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; When she arrived at the top of the hill, she knelt and presented the crown to the head priest, who took it in his mail gauntlets and, shouting an invocation to Grabâkh, thrust the crown into a glowing brazier.&nbsp; Slowly, as the crown began to glow red, the chanting faded and then stopped, and the entire army stood in silent expectation as a new figure approached the crest of the hill.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Keth was clad in a suit of half-plate, the metal tinged red.&nbsp; He carried a massive barbed spear in one hand, and on his other arm was a large shield shaped to look like Grabâkh’s flaming Eye.&nbsp; The High Warchief gave his spear to the high priest, and then approached the smoking brazier.&nbsp; Without a moment’s hesitation, he thrust his hands into the coals, picked up the crown, and set it on top of his head.&nbsp; Wisps of black smoke curled up as the hot metal burned hair and seared flesh, but Keth stood stoically, his eyes burning with reflected firelight as the crown cooled.&nbsp; Then, with a sudden motion, Keth grabbed his spear from the high priest, thrust it overhead, and let out an ear-splitting shout of triumph.&nbsp; The cry was soon picked up by the other orcs, and by Autumn and the rest of the Legacy, who had been present through the entire ceremony.&nbsp; Even the gnomes couldn’t help but be overwhelmed as the cacophony slowly shaped itself into another rhythmic chant.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Long live King Keth!”*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; A day later, the Pecish Navy set sail and began the long journey north, their small, maneuverable ships sitting low in the water under the weight of thousands of orcish passengers.&nbsp; The armada numbered in the hundreds of ships, all moving at a slow, steady crawl through the ocean due to the extra weight.&nbsp; This was perhaps a good thing, as it allowed the fleet to keep pace with their flagship, the ponderous Armadillo.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; The Legacy had decided not to take on any additional troops, as Keth had requested to sail in their vessel, and he and his staff would take up what room was available.&nbsp; Initially, however, the party had the ship to themselves; Keth had ridden off into the desert with a small retinue the morning after the ceremony.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “As High Warchief, there were some clans even I could not persuade to join us,” he explained.&nbsp; “They will join their King.&nbsp; I will meet the fleet on the coast in five days time.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Despite not having to entertain the newly crowned orc king, the party kept busy.&nbsp; As had been expected, having two such diametrically opposed races sharing the same small space made things tense, and conflicts broke out on almost every ship.&nbsp; The party soon found themselves acting as the fleet’s mediators, using their abilities to move rapidly from ship to ship.&nbsp; They applied Lanara’s gentle, persuasive touch where they could, and Arrie and Autumn’s less gentle approach when needed.&nbsp; Osborn worked to spot potential problems before they even flared up, and Tolly helped to settle things back to normal afterward.&nbsp; Kyle mostly remained on the Armadillo, coordinating everyone’s efforts through telepathic bond spells and divinations, only involving himself directly when large-scale interventions were required.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Surprisingly, the majority of the conflicts did not occur between the orcs and gnomes, but between the orcs and the battalions of Sargian pikemen that the navy had picked up on their way to meet with the orcs.&nbsp; Not that the conflicts themselves were surprising; Sargia had no great love for the marauding orcs.&nbsp; What was surprising was that the pikemen were there at all.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I thought Sargia had chosen to remain out of the fight for now,” Tolly asked the Tlaxan advisor Talia one day.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Things change,” she replied.&nbsp; “Officially the country is still not involved.&nbsp; But we have had private negotiations with the heads of the Cromanus Family, who controls Sargia’s Military Greatguild.&nbsp; They are the ones sending the pikemen, not the Sargian government.” She shrugged.&nbsp; “And it wasn’t even known for sure until the last moment whether the Cromanus Family would agree to it.&nbsp; Apparently our offer was going to be rejected, until the Shadow General made some sort of offer that swayed them to join our cause.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I hope one day we learn who this Shadow General is,” Tolly said.&nbsp; “From all I’ve heard about his work for the Alliance, he has earned my respect and deserves the gratitude of us all.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Nearby, Osborn just smiled.&nbsp; Though he hadn’t known about the gnomish fleet, he was aware of the negotiations between the Cromanuses and the Alliance, and had helped sweeten the deal by providing them with some crucial information about some of the other Great Families of Sargia.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Things settled into a routine, more or less.&nbsp; Keth rejoined the armada as promised, another two thousand orcs or so following behind him.&nbsp; The fights continued but seemed to grow less frequent or intense at the days went on.&nbsp; Occasionally the armada would encounter Tauric ships; lone scout ships were blasted by the Armadillo’s cannon before they could come about to flee, and larger fleets were quickly dealt with by the fast gnomish ships.&nbsp; Despite their differences, the Sargians and orcs fought well together, and there was only the occasional accidental orc piking, or Sargian skull being split by an errant thrown axe.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; As the days turned into weeks, Tolly grew increasingly irritable.&nbsp; He was seen walking around below decks for hours, poking through every nook and cranny, and the skin around his eyes was tinged dark yellow from repeated use of the saffron eye paste required for the true seeing spell.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “What on earth is he looking for down there?” Lanara asked one day, after seeing Tolly storm through the galley.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “He’s looking for whatever it is that fixed the ship,” Kyle said.&nbsp; Autumn, resting in Kyle’s arms, smiled.&nbsp; He’d let her in on the secret a few nights ago, and they’d discovered that both Osborn and Arrie were aware of the situation as well.&nbsp; Only Tolly and Lanara were left out; though they all figured they would let the bard in on the secret at some point, for now they were holding off; it was nice for once to have something that they knew before she did.&nbsp; It was probably only Lanara’s consternation at having been on board a ship for so long that had kept her from discovering the cover-up and prying it out of one of them already.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “I thought we agreed to let it go,” Lanara said, exasperated.&nbsp; “I thought we agreed that Kyle had his reasons for trying to cover things up, and we should trust you.”&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Oh, I think Tolly trusts that Kyle’s telling the truth,” Arrie said, “he just doesn’t trust whoever or whatever it is was telling the truth to Kyle.&nbsp; There’s a reason that Ardara’s creed isn’t ‘Let It Be’, you know.”
*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; One night, about four and a half weeks after the coronation of Keth, as the Pecish fleet began to round the northwestern corner of Affon, the Legacy had a dream.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; They found themselves standing outside a familiar seaside cliff, looking at a familiar two-story house.&nbsp; But there the familiarity ended.&nbsp; For one, they noticed that they had all of their armaments and equipment with them; even their horses were there, as were Rupert and Violet.&nbsp; Another oddity was that the house was in flames.&nbsp; Autumn immediately began running toward the house, the others right on their heels, Tolly and Kyle both feverishly casting defensive spells as they ran.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; They saw movement at the balcony, and saw Aran emerge, blood caked on his head and the side of his face.&nbsp; He was streaked with grime and soot, and held an ordinary looking short sword in one hand.&nbsp; “Come through the side entrance!” he shouted down to them, waving his arms.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; They bolted to the right as soon as they passed the outer gates.&nbsp; Soon they found the side entrance; a large double door, big enough for a man to ride through mounted.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; “Kyle!&nbsp; Door!” Autumn shouted.&nbsp; Moments later, the wooden portal was shattered by a lightning bolt.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Weapons drawn, the party ran forward… into darkness.&nbsp; As the light vanished and the Legacy lost consciousness, the only thing they were aware of was a low, mocking laughter.-------------------------* True story: our DM had named the gnomish nation the Peca Provinces, but it became clear that he hadn't really thought it through.&nbsp; The first time we interacted with a citizen of the country, he realized that they would be referred to as... Pecans.&nbsp; <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile&nbsp; &nbsp; :)"&nbsp; data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /></blockquote>

[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 3335430, member: 5203"] As the sun rose, the scene became clearer. The moving dunes were actually a massive horde of orcs, tens of thousands strong. Keth’s war banner was the most prominent within the horde, and several other clan banners had Clan Hulg’s symbol incorporated into their own design. To the south, the rapidly approaching ships were finally identified – as gnomish warships of the Pecish Navy*. The fleet, which already numbered several dozen vessels, was growing larger by the second as new ships would suddenly pop into sight, the telltale shimmer of dissipating illusion magic revealing their presence. “So that’s where the gnomes went!” Arrie and Tolly exclaimed in unison. Eventually, two small rowboats approached the [I]Armadillo[/I]; one carrying a gnomish officer, the other an orcish warrior. Once on board, they were formally introduced, and then presented to the party. “This is Warchief Ghraz of Clan Lorr, sub-chieftain to High Warchief Heth,” Talia said. “And this is Vice Admiral Nabbidosh of the Provincial National Navy.” “Do you have a conference room where we could meet?” Admiral Nabbidosh asked. “We can convert the galley,” Autumn offered, even as Kyle was ordering his elvish crew to make the arrangements. A few minutes later, everyone was gathered around two long galley tables that had been pushed together. “A few months ago, during the diplomatic conference held in Tlaxan,” Talia began, “there were a number of… less public meetings held, among them a meeting between the governments of what we now call the Alliance and representatives of then-Warchief Keth, as to how best to bring the orcs of the Haran into the conflict.” “Good,” Tolly said. “I was hoping that something was actually getting done at that conference.” “Keth had agreed to rally as many tribes as he could under his banner,” Talia continued, “which, given his already considerable influence in the region, was a large amount. The main problem was transporting them to the front. Targeth would not consent to allowing several legions of orcs passage through their shield barrier, and the mountains of the Dwarven Confederates are all but impassable from the Haran, especially in winter.” “And so,” Admiral Nabbidosh interjected, “Overgovernor Garlen agreed to put the Pecish Navy at their disposal. Our fleet set sail under the guise of mounting a direct offensive against the approaching Tauric fleet, and then feigned our ‘disappearance’ with the use of illusion magic and counter-scrying.” “So you sailed south around the continent to come here,” Kyle said. “Exactly. We are here to pick up the orc legions, and then attack the Taurics in a surprise flanking maneuver.” “Fantastic!” Osborn exclaimed. “So how do we come into play?” Autumn asked. “You were sent to act as the rendezvous point for the operation,” Warchief Ghraz said, “and to act as a flagship for the fleet. Your vessel is one of only five heavy ships of war in Affon, and so it was thought that you stood the best chance of surviving the voyage through enemy waters to arrive her. Now,your presence will be a rallying point for both the gnomes and the orcs. Besides, with your cannon you will be able to neutralize ships from a great distance, which will prevent the Taurics from spotting our armada and going to warn their superiors.” Autumn leaned over to Kyle. “What exactly is the range on that thing, anyway?” “About two miles.” “There has been considerable effort made to time this rendezvous precisely,” Nabbidosh said, “and we have a tight schedule to keep. We will need to have the entire orc army boarded within two days. Naturally, we are hoping that you can provide some logistical support.” “Of course,” Tolly said. “We would like to meet with High Warchief Keth,” Arrie interjected. “We have an important subject to discuss with him before we set sail.” “A ceremony, actually,” Autumn added. “The High Warchief was expecting you,” Ghraz said. “Is this ceremony something that he will have to prepare for?” “Very likely,” Autumn said. “Then we should go to see him soon.” “Excuse me,” Admiral Nabbidosh said, “but is this something that my people should be preparing for as well?” “We’ll leave the final decision up to Keth,” Arrie said, “but I’m sure that you will be invited to attend as honored guests.” “I was going to suggest that all of the command staff from both forces be invited to breakfast with us tomorrow morning,” Autumn said. “Perhaps we could discuss the details then.” “Very well.” Everyone stood up. “I will return to shore and wait to escort you to the High Warchief,” Ghraz said. With that, everyone returned to the main deck and began boarding their ships; Talia went over to the navy with Nabbidosh to speak with the other admirals. Soon the Legacy was left standing alone on deck. “Now, just to make sure,” Kyle said, “everyone’s okay with giving Keth the crown?” Arrie looked over at the teeming mass of orcs on the beach. “At this point, it’s not exactly like it’s going to change things much.” “The amount of goodwill that will be created by giving the Crown of the Orcish King to Keth more than outweighs any risks of uniting the orcs under a single leader,” Tolly said. “Besides, Keth is a lawful being, and it will be good to see the firm hand of Law brought to these lands.” “And if there are any clans that aren’t supporting Keth now,” Osborn added, “they will once he’s crowned.” “Just wanted everyone to have a chance to voice any dissent,” Kyle said. “We have been carrying that thing around for a long time because we were afraid of the consequences of giving it away.” They agreed to have Autumn and Osborn go meet Keth, though for safety the [I]portable hole[/I] with the Crown (and other items of interest) was left on the [I]Armadillo[/I]. They met up with Warchief Ghraz, and were quickly led straight through the orcish legions to Keth’s command tent. The tent was huge, and well guarded, and when Autumn and Osborn passed through the entrance, they noticed that the beaded curtain across the opening was made from lead beads, most likely meant to interfere with scrying without being too unwieldy to transport through the desert. Most likely strands of similar beads had been sewn into the entire tent. Keth himself was sitting on a large wooden throne in the middle of the tent, flanked by his wives, guards, and advisors. By orcish standards, the throne was highly ornate, though still solidly built, looking like it had been carved from a large slab of volcanic rock. It was a sure sign of Keth’s power that a seat such as this was being hauled all over the desert. “It is good to see you again, clan-brother,” Keth said to Osborn as he and Autumn approached and bowed. “And you as well, sentinel.” He glanced at Autumn’s wings. “I see your status among your kind has grown.” “As has yours, High Warchief,” Autumn replied. “And it is for exactly that reason that we have come.” Keth’s eyebrow arched. “We have come across an item in our travels,” Osborn said. “An artifact of great importance to you. We wish to bestow this item on you with a proper ceremony.” “What is this artifact?” Autumn approached Keth’s throne, pausing only a moment as Keth waved away the suddenly tense guards in the tent. Autumn leaned in close to whisper the information in Keth’s ear. Osborn heard one of Keth’s advisors mutter a crude joke about how the artifact must be ‘the silken tongue of an aasimar’ and some suggestions on how best to use it, which made him glad that Kyle hadn’t come with them. “You can understand why we would want to make this a public affair when it’s presented,” Autumn said as she stepped back. “Indeed,” Keth said, his mind whirling. “For this to come to me now, during Grabâkh’s holy days… it is a great omen. I will have to speak with the gnomish commander. This may change our plans.” He stood up suddenly. “We will do it tonight, amidst the sacred fires. I must give instructions to my high priests.” He began to walk out of the tent, but then turned and grabbed the ears of the two guards closest to him, yanking their heads close. “If you heard something, you heard nothing! Clear?” The two guards nodded as best they could. Releasing the guards, Keth strode outside, followed by Autumn and Osborn. Once out of the tent, he waved over an orcish lieutenant, who came running up with a chest-crushing salute. “Inform my advisor Kashok that his warchief wishes for him to visit the pleasure tents this evening. Escort him there yourself. When you arrive, you may inform him that he is there to serve his clan, have him stripped and bound, and allow those with the inclination to use him as they wish. Perhaps then he will learn to mind his tongue when speaking about our honored guests.” The lieutenant saluted again and went into the command tent, as Keth strode off toward the shore. “What was that all about?” Autumn asked. “You probably don’t want the details,” Osborn said, “let’s just say that Keth's hearing is good, and he is definitely not lax in the discipline department.” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] The sun had set hours ago, and so the barren desert should have been freezing. But the hundreds of huge bonfires that burned brightly throughout the orc encampment made the night feel like a sweltering summer day. The orcs had gathered around a large dune, pressing as close as they could to see the events before them. Near the top of the dune, a small contingent of gnomes in formal uniforms stood nervously witnessing the proceedings, clearly ill at ease being surrounded by so many orcs at the height of the Time of Burning. Just as the clamoring of the horde was about to reach a fevered pitch, everyone suddenly fell silent as if on some unseen cue. Then the drums began. It was a frenetic, erratic beat that at first seemed to have no rhythm or meter at all. But then the orcs began to join in; some beat swords against shields, others stamped heavy boots into the sand, and others began to shout guttural chants. At first it seemed like a cacophony of noise, no one performer matching his neighbor. But those trained to listen would hear that the drums beat in unison with the drums, the shields were struck with the same rhythm, each boot stomp and shout was perfectly synchronized. The warsong took on an almost hypnotic quality for those within the horde; for the thousands of gnomish sailors, listening to the ceremony from afar, it sounded as though the desert itself had suddenly burst into flames and was being consumed. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Then the voices of the priests rang out across the gathering, with the answering cries shouted at a deafening roar. “Kas grazil duro’rashik!” (“The fires of our Lord consume us!”) [I]Mojh rashan Grabâkh![/I] (Praise to Grabâkh the destroyer!) “Kas grazil duro’pashai!” (“The fires of our Lord purify us!”) [I]Mojh pashan Grabâkh![/I] (Praise to Grabâkh the purifier!) “Duro’jahakar du kas grazil!” (“We are reborn from the fires of our Lord!”) [I]Nas dur Grabanar, vor grazos Grabhül![/I] (His Eye sees all, his Wrath shall burn forever!) The chant continued, nonstop, even as the crowds began to part to let a single figure through to the top of the dune. Autumn walked slowly up the hill, looking regal in gleaming plate armor, her wings pulled up behind her like a cloak of white feathers. In her hands she held a heavy crown fashioned of solid adamantium, with irregular crests styled like leaping flames. The crown was adorned with enormous rubies, fire opals, and garnets. An inscription in Orcish ran around the brow, carved deep into the metal. When she arrived at the top of the hill, she knelt and presented the crown to the head priest, who took it in his mail gauntlets and, shouting an invocation to Grabâkh, thrust the crown into a glowing brazier. Slowly, as the crown began to glow red, the chanting faded and then stopped, and the entire army stood in silent expectation as a new figure approached the crest of the hill. Keth was clad in a suit of half-plate, the metal tinged red. He carried a massive barbed spear in one hand, and on his other arm was a large shield shaped to look like Grabâkh’s flaming Eye. The High Warchief gave his spear to the high priest, and then approached the smoking brazier. Without a moment’s hesitation, he thrust his hands into the coals, picked up the crown, and set it on top of his head. Wisps of black smoke curled up as the hot metal burned hair and seared flesh, but Keth stood stoically, his eyes burning with reflected firelight as the crown cooled. Then, with a sudden motion, Keth grabbed his spear from the high priest, thrust it overhead, and let out an ear-splitting shout of triumph. The cry was soon picked up by the other orcs, and by Autumn and the rest of the Legacy, who had been present through the entire ceremony. Even the gnomes couldn’t help but be overwhelmed as the cacophony slowly shaped itself into another rhythmic chant. “Long live King Keth!” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] A day later, the Pecish Navy set sail and began the long journey north, their small, maneuverable ships sitting low in the water under the weight of thousands of orcish passengers. The armada numbered in the hundreds of ships, all moving at a slow, steady crawl through the ocean due to the extra weight. This was perhaps a good thing, as it allowed the fleet to keep pace with their flagship, the ponderous [I]Armadillo[/I]. The Legacy had decided not to take on any additional troops, as Keth had requested to sail in their vessel, and he and his staff would take up what room was available. Initially, however, the party had the ship to themselves; Keth had ridden off into the desert with a small retinue the morning after the ceremony. “As High Warchief, there were some clans even I could not persuade to join us,” he explained. “They will join their King. I will meet the fleet on the coast in five days time.” Despite not having to entertain the newly crowned orc king, the party kept busy. As had been expected, having two such diametrically opposed races sharing the same small space made things tense, and conflicts broke out on almost every ship. The party soon found themselves acting as the fleet’s mediators, using their abilities to move rapidly from ship to ship. They applied Lanara’s gentle, persuasive touch where they could, and Arrie and Autumn’s less gentle approach when needed. Osborn worked to spot potential problems before they even flared up, and Tolly helped to settle things back to normal afterward. Kyle mostly remained on the [I]Armadillo[/I], coordinating everyone’s efforts through telepathic bond spells and divinations, only involving himself directly when large-scale interventions were required. Surprisingly, the majority of the conflicts did not occur between the orcs and gnomes, but between the orcs and the battalions of Sargian pikemen that the navy had picked up on their way to meet with the orcs. Not that the conflicts themselves were surprising; Sargia had no great love for the marauding orcs. What was surprising was that the pikemen were there at all. “I thought Sargia had chosen to remain out of the fight for now,” Tolly asked the Tlaxan advisor Talia one day. “Things change,” she replied. “Officially the country is still not involved. But we have had private negotiations with the heads of the Cromanus Family, who controls Sargia’s Military Greatguild. They are the ones sending the pikemen, not the Sargian government.” She shrugged. “And it wasn’t even known for sure until the last moment whether the Cromanus Family would agree to it. Apparently our offer was going to be rejected, until the Shadow General made some sort of offer that swayed them to join our cause.” “I hope one day we learn who this Shadow General is,” Tolly said. “From all I’ve heard about his work for the Alliance, he has earned my respect and deserves the gratitude of us all.” Nearby, Osborn just smiled. Though he hadn’t known about the gnomish fleet, he was aware of the negotiations between the Cromanuses and the Alliance, and had helped sweeten the deal by providing them with some crucial information about some of the other Great Families of Sargia. Things settled into a routine, more or less. Keth rejoined the armada as promised, another two thousand orcs or so following behind him. The fights continued but seemed to grow less frequent or intense at the days went on. Occasionally the armada would encounter Tauric ships; lone scout ships were blasted by the Armadillo’s cannon before they could come about to flee, and larger fleets were quickly dealt with by the fast gnomish ships. Despite their differences, the Sargians and orcs fought well together, and there was only the occasional accidental orc piking, or Sargian skull being split by an errant thrown axe. As the days turned into weeks, Tolly grew increasingly irritable. He was seen walking around below decks for hours, poking through every nook and cranny, and the skin around his eyes was tinged dark yellow from repeated use of the saffron eye paste required for the[I] true seeing[/I] spell. “What on earth is he looking for down there?” Lanara asked one day, after seeing Tolly storm through the galley. “He’s looking for whatever it is that fixed the ship,” Kyle said. Autumn, resting in Kyle’s arms, smiled. He’d let her in on the secret a few nights ago, and they’d discovered that both Osborn and Arrie were aware of the situation as well. Only Tolly and Lanara were left out; though they all figured they would let the bard in on the secret at some point, for now they were holding off; it was nice for once to have something that they knew before she did. It was probably only Lanara’s consternation at having been on board a ship for so long that had kept her from discovering the cover-up and prying it out of one of them already. “I thought we agreed to let it go,” Lanara said, exasperated. “I thought we agreed that Kyle had his reasons for trying to cover things up, and we should trust you.” “Oh, I think Tolly trusts that Kyle’s telling the truth,” Arrie said, “he just doesn’t trust whoever or whatever it is was telling the truth to Kyle. There’s a reason that Ardara’s creed isn’t ‘Let It Be’, you know.” [CENTER] * * *[/CENTER] One night, about four and a half weeks after the coronation of Keth, as the Pecish fleet began to round the northwestern corner of Affon, the Legacy had a dream. They found themselves standing outside a familiar seaside cliff, looking at a familiar two-story house. But there the familiarity ended. For one, they noticed that they had all of their armaments and equipment with them; even their horses were there, as were Rupert and Violet. Another oddity was that the house was in flames. Autumn immediately began running toward the house, the others right on their heels, Tolly and Kyle both feverishly casting defensive spells as they ran. They saw movement at the balcony, and saw Aran emerge, blood caked on his head and the side of his face. He was streaked with grime and soot, and held an ordinary looking short sword in one hand. “Come through the side entrance!” he shouted down to them, waving his arms. They bolted to the right as soon as they passed the outer gates. Soon they found the side entrance; a large double door, big enough for a man to ride through mounted. “Kyle! Door!” Autumn shouted. Moments later, the wooden portal was shattered by a [I]lightning bolt[/I]. Weapons drawn, the party ran forward… into darkness. As the light vanished and the Legacy lost consciousness, the only thing they were aware of was a low, mocking laughter. ------------------------- * True story: our DM had named the gnomish nation the Peca Provinces, but it became clear that he hadn't really thought it through. The first time we interacted with a citizen of the country, he realized that they would be referred to as... Pecans. :) [/QUOTE]

Verification