[Horde] Session Four
HORDE: TALK HARD, FIGHT HARD
Dentarg walks out of the tent that night and vanishes into the night. Dranosh says that any decisions would be best left until the morning, and Arthak agrees.
The evening is winding down outside of their tent. The party turns in, though Remnii is once again unable to sleep.
Spinyl seems spooked, given her encounter with Dranosh. Dranosh checks up on her, he tells her that having her life threatened is usual with Orcs. His new nickname is “My Hero.” He drunkenly toddles off to sleep.
The next day everyone wakes up and it’s an early morning after a big party. Some of the people are beginning to chunk off and handle their own clan business. The first envoys are taking out. There may or may not be a celebratory week or so after all of this with contests, drinking and fighting x5.
As the group exits their tents they see a few peons wandering around and picking up garbage. A lot of people are still passed out drunk. However, Arthak is summoned along with anyone he chooses to bring to meet with his uncle for a brief meeting. Arthak asks Sorak to come with him, and Sorak agrees.
Arthak asks Azgadaan to keep an eye on the draenei while he is gone. Arthak also says he will see about acquiring food for Remnii and Yrel as was agreed.
Sorak and Arthak get to the Blackrock encampment and Varok is once again at the war table and is accompanied with by Dranosh.
Varok and Arthak greet each other and Arthak asks what Varok needs.
Varok: “Well it’s concerning your upcoming sojourn.”
Arthak: “I see.”
Varok: “The warchief was insistent that you be granted a stipend to help cover your costs to assist you along the way.”
Arthak: “The warchief is generous.”
Varok: “The warchief is many things, Arthak.”
Arthak: “Still. Respect is to be shown.”
Varok: “Indeed.” Varok lifts a small satchel and inside is a collection of small gemstones and items good for trading. It is worth about 500 gp in conventional currency.
Varok: “There is another matter of which I must inform you.”
Dranosh shrugs: “Unfortunately I won’t be able to join you on this one, brother.”
Arthak says that he expected as much as Dranosh had other duties and babysitting his cousin wasn’t among them.
Dranosh: “I barely would say you have to be babysat anymore, Arthak. Especially after you put on that show yesterday. My head is still feeling it.”
Arthak thanks Dranosh for accompanying them for what he did, and Dranosh says he looks forward to meeting up with the group again when Arthak has done even more.
Arthak: “I hope so, brother. I sincerely hope so. Well. Is that all then, uncle? There is quite a bit to be done.”
Varok: “Of course. I do wish to issue a warning that need not be said. Unfortunately your display yesterday, as impressive as it was, it garnered attention.”
Arthak: “That was… in many ways the idea, though I knew going in that not all the attention would be good.”
Varok: “Then I trust you’ll keep your teeth sharpened and your swords sharper.”
Arthak: “I’ve always had to.”
Varok: “Good.”
Varok says he will be around for a bit, but he had been summoned back to the Blackrock Foundry.
Varok: “If you require anything before you leave I will do my best to aid you.”
Arthak grunts: “Thank you, uncle. If I do need anything I will inform you. Thank you.”
Varok: “Lok’tar ogar, my nephew.”
Arthak: “Lok’tar ogar.”
Arthak and Sorak then leave.
Arthak asks Sorak if he could see about getting supplies for the expedition, and Sorak says he would. Arthak also glances at Sorak’s hammer, which is basically a rock on a stick, and he asks him to get supplies to make a new hammer. Arthak would take care of it himself.
Sorak: “What, don’t like my beat-stick?”
Arthak says he could make a better “beat-stick”. He also said he would put together a list of things he would need in addition to supplies for the journey. Arthak and Sorak part ways.
~beat-stick~-----------
The group reconvenes to discuss what should actually be purchased for the trip beyond materials to modify weapons and uncorrupted food for the draenei, in addition to where exactly they should head first.
Sorak was able to provide some information about Ner’zhul and the Shadowmoon Clan, particularly that he had not left his clan in about ten years.
Yrel asks if anyone thinks that the ogre, Dentag, was lying about Samaara, and Sorak provided that he did not think he was trustworthy. However, Yrel says that if there was a chance to save her sister she wanted to go.
Sorak: “You could find your sister, or he could just obtain both of you.”
Arthak also offered that it may have been a ruse to lure the group into whatever was going on between Shadowmoon and Gul’dan. He also said that it would get in the way of the “more important matter” of getting to the Naaru, which Yrel got a bit upset about. However, Arthak offered that going to Shadowmoon would put the two draenei in danger.
Remnii: “Have you ever walked with a god, Arthak?”
Arthak: “No I have not.”
Remnii: “I can assure you. All of you. None of you are capable, myself included, or ready for what a Naaru actually is.”
Arthak: “And you think a journey down to Shadowmoon will make a difference?”
Azgadaan provided that it was said Ner’zhul had answers, and Remnii also said that Samaara was older and stronger than them and may be able to help.
Arthak returned that going to Ner’zhul meant going to the center of his stronghold, putting them afoul of Gul’dan even more, and would get them entwined with Shadowmoon’s plots.
Yrel pointed out that Samaara would know the safest route to Tempest Keep, and Arthak said that was only if she was alive and not compromised. There may have also been people that wished to get to Tempest Keep first, and it may be as much of a race to get to the Naaru as it would be to get to Ner’zhul - especially given he had not been able to find Garrosh after the other orc attacked Spinyl.
Remnii asks the rest of the group, and Spinyl says she is just a follower and would go with the group. Azgadaan says gathering as much information as possible would be beneficial before going go Tempest Keep, but Arthak said they had neither a reasonable price nor a reasonable time frame.
Sorak: “If we go to the Naaru, we have little chance of success. If we go to Shadowmoon Valley, we have little chance of success. However, unfortunately for your friend-”
Yrel: “My sister!”
Sorak”... your sister. She has little chance of being mentally sound.”
Yrel asks if Sorak just wants her to abandon Samaara, and Sorak says that her getting captured would not help her in the least.
Arthak asked what Sorak wanted to do, and Sorak said he needed time to think on it and he left (totally not to divine the best choice).
The draenei continue to try and talk to Arthak and Yrel offers that using Ner’zhul against Gul’dan may be beneficial, but Arthak said they do not have allies at the moment. Arthak also pointed out that the fact the draenei still remained with him was entirely contingent on the deal they made - if they antagonized Gul’dan too much there was a good chance the draenei would fall into Gul’dan’s hands and Arthak himself would be dead. Then everything would be completely lost.
Yrel said that if Arthak tried to approach the Naaru with force he would not accomplish anything, and ultimately he needed the draenei - Samaara included.
Remnii pointed out that the Naaru knows Samaara, and Yrel said they could potentially speak to it.
However, Arthak once again emphasized that if they died or someone else beat them to Tempest Keep, there would be no point. Ultimately, the few steps in a plan, the less chance of it going wrong and the more room to improvise. After all, he only made an oath to Remnii and Yrel - not Samaara.
Yrel, to Azgadaan: “But you did.”
Arthak asked Azgadaan if that was true, and Azgadaan said he did make an oath to Samaara, but what it entailed was none of Arthak’s business. However, he did not intend on falling through on it.
Arthak, however, had no desire to budge as he said the journey to Shadowmoon Valley would just be “another complication in an already overly complicated situation.”
Yrel, to Arthak: ”I will gladly watch you die and smile the whole way if you are so willing to resign my sister to death because it is inconvenient to your plans.”
She also said she pitied any member of the warband that would become an inconvenience to Arthak’s plans, however, Arthak said that Samaara was never a member of his warband and he had, in fact, laid his life on the line for Yrel and Remnii.
Yrel was not satisfied and stated that he was continuing to just follow the path of least resistance to his goals. “I have learned a lot about you today, Arthak Saurfang.”
Meanwhile, in Sorak’s tent he was going through the process of a divination ritual for ‘’augury’’.
He asked: “How would us going to Tempest Keep affect our warband’s party unity for the duration”
The result was definitively “Woe.”
He also asked a question of the winds:
“Have there been any plots against Arthak spoke of in the area”
Yes
Sorak came out and Arthak asks if he came to a decision, which the not-shaman snorts about. “I suppose at this point the question is how poorly do you want this to affect us as a whole?”
Arthak stares at Sorak for a moment and then asks again where he stands.
Sorak: “There are points to both. There are problems to both. If we go to Shadowmoon Valley we may be walking to our deaths or we may walk out with Yrel’s sister. It won’t harm our unity as a group. Whereas going to Tempest Keep will put as at odds, which could get us killed.”
Again, Arthak asks Sorak where he votes.
Sorak: “I’m fine with going to Shadowmoon to save your sister. However, if things are not good, if she seems off, we are leaving. There will be no saving her.”
It is decided that they will go to Shadowmoon, and Yrel lets out a sigh of relief and ultimately thanks the group.
Further plans are made about gathering supplies before they leave, and Arthak reassures Remnii that she will be free of the manacles once they leave. As Sorak and Arthak walk away, Sorak quietly lets him know that people were plotting against him.
Arthak also mentioned to Sorak that he viewed him as his second in command, which is why he kept pressing him for a solid answer.
Meanwhile, in the tent Spinyl is showing Remnii how to play Hearthstone. She is witness to several species she had never seen before - except for descriptions that she had heard of from her father’s vision.
Spinyl revealed she had gotten the cards from a world called Azeroth.
During the game, Remnii unintentionally managed to beat Spinyl. Yrel stated true combat was much more complex.
The second time Remnii also won, and Yrel asked Spinyl if she was letting Remnii win. She denied she was, but she may have gotten rusty.
Yrel also wanted to try, but Spinyl handily beat her.
There is some playful banter, and Yrel ultimately apologized to Spinyl for pointing her weapon at her.
Dranosh comes through the tent door after a while. There’s another Maghar with him-- he’s wearing a long black and violet robe. His hair is braided. He has an eyepatch. It’s Jorin Deadeye.
Spinyl greets him right away and they talk about Hearthstone for a moment. It cute.
Meanwhile, Jorin Deadeye is looking straight at Remnii. “Your name was Remnii, correct? If it’s not too much trouble can I speak with you alone? My name is Jorin Deadeye. It will only be a second, I promise.”
Remnii purses her lips, takes a deep breath, but agrees to go. Jorin reassures her that she will not be in any danger, and asks her to act casually, though he mentioned they had met before a long time ago.
Jorin: “I wasn’t sure if it was you at first, but I remember the name.”
Remnii: “Where do you come from?”
Jorin: “I was born in Zethgore. But I didn’t stay very long. There was a terrible affliction ravaging the young and infirm. I was sent to an encampment in Nagrand. I imagine the name Garadar sounds familiar.”
Remnii: “It’s good to see you healthy.”
Jorin: “It’s good to be healthy. Not omiting blood is a nice change of pace. I saw it. Before my father sent me off, it is tradition for the leaders of our clan to remove one of our eyes to see our death. I knew I wouldn’t die as a child. I have you to thank for that, at least partially, but there is a man who needs to thank you more than I. When were were children, during your visits, as I recall he was one of the worst. Dranosh could barely open his eyes. I dare say you may have remembered him, though he would have been a lot thinner back then. We all were.”
Remnii: “I remember a small boy. So thin he shouldn’t have survived the night, but he did. I got into so much trouble sneaking out to help you. It is good to see that something good came out of it.”
Jorin: “This is a warning as much as anything else though. There are not many of us left, but the Red Pox inoculated us The few of us that survived are immune to the fel taint. I’m a warlock, yet… any brown-skinned orc you see, especially those not with the Frostwolves, any of them may be one of the children there and may remember you. Any. Of them. No matter their allegiance. Even so, Dranosh is a good friend of mine and you are traveling with his cousin. The least I can do is offer advice.”
Remnii nods.
Jorin: “Just know my father isn’t the only one keeping an eye on all of you.”
Remnii: “Thank you for the warning, and thank you for telling me.”
Jorin: “Consider it a debt repaid for saving my life and the life of my friend. Shadowmoon Valley is a long way away, after all.”
Remnii again nods as they loop back around and stops in front of the tent.
Remnii offers “safe journeys” in Draenic before she ducks into the tent and Dranosh came out at the same time.
Dranosh explained that he had been called away on another mission, but he said it was nice to see Remnii again. He also asked her to ensure his cousin didn’t get himself killed.
Remnii expressed that was a tall order, but said it was good to meet him as he is now. Dranosh also thanked her for a long time ago, despite it being fairly late.
Previously, while Dranosh had been keeping Spinyl and Yrel company, he asked if he could finish the hand Remnii left.
Spinyl easily beats him. “I beat all three of you at once!”
Dranosh, however, blames it on Yrel, though she said that it wasn’t her fault.
There is some more banter between Spinyl and Dranosh where she teasingly says that a good warrior can come out of any bind.
Dranosh, however, reveals he was called on another mission and he wouldn’t be able to accompany the warband.
Spinyl sighs: “Might be good news for you, but I’ll miss you. It was fun having you around - someone that doesn’t want to kill me for once.”
Dranosh: “Killing someone in the warband is generally looked down upon.”
Dranosh pointedly looks at Yrel and she said she already apologized.
Dranosh: “Will you be alright?”
Spinyl: “I’ll make some way to make do.”
Dranosh: “Well… uh… I dunno if this will help but I got you something. I thought it would… help… with uh… everything… here.” He pulls out a small strand of rope with three thorns across it. “These were uh, I plucked these from those thrashers you took out. I thought it may be something to remember. I know it’s not exactly a substitute but… uh… here.”
Yrel rolls her eyes and stands up
Spinyl: “It’s amazing!” She jumps to hug Dranosh immediately.
D: “I’m glad you like it.” He laughs. Spinyl: “I’ll just wear it until I see you again!”
D: “If you end up, well, if you find something else interesting… well, why don’t you add it to the necklace? Show it to me when you get back.”
Spinyl: “Strong and smart! Can do, will do. I’ll give you the rundown of everything that happens as long as you do the same for me!”
“Well, I guess I should get gojing. Jorin will be back soon. He hates it when we’re late.
Spinyl: “Yeah I get bosses like that too. I won’t keep you.”
Dranosh: I won’t keep you...
Spinyl: “One more for the road?”
They hug really rightly with his big, giant orc arms. The whole time, he doesn’t quite know why he’s doing it, but he doesn’t stop.
The hug goes on. Yrel coughs awkwardly. The couple breaks off when Jorin returns and Spinyl wishes him safe travels and vice versa.
Dranosh heads to the tent entrance and he looks back more than a few times as he leaves.
Yrel: “...I don’t know what you did to that boy.”
Spinyl: “I can tell you 100% I did absolutely nothing. Unless existing is something?”
Yrel rolls her eyes, “That is certainly something isn’t it?”
Remnii spies the lovesick Dranosh and announces that he’s got it bad. Hot damn.
As the two orcs walk away, Jorin says: “So… the succubus?”
Dranosh: “What!?”
~beat-stick~-------------------
To get to Shadowmoon Valley there is one way by land. Three ways by sea.
1 by sea: Fang’rila is a hunting around used by the Bleeding Hollow Clan. They hunt dangerous game there and then they also fight each other in the arenas there. Rafts are here.
2 by sea: Going towards the encampments at the Dark Portal. They’ve been revamped and are owned by the Storm Reaver clan. They have better boats, buT GUL’DAN.
3 by sea: The port at Ironhold. It’s a Blackrock Encampment. It was used to ship a lot of things including Hellfire Citadel. It has the safest ships, but they have to pass between Gul’Dan’s lands.
1 by land: Travel through the Jungle and find ruined Draenic settlements. It’s the longest route, but they could find things to get the Crystal Chronicle up and running for Azgadaan and Yrel.
It is decided that the best route may be to go through the Bleeding Hollow Clan. Ideally, they would then go straight from Shadowmoon to the Naaru.
There’s no good way to secure passage, but the party can negotiate when they arrive at Fang’rila.
Sorak got a fishing rod.
~beat-stick~---------
Arthak sets out to find Garrosh. He fails.
Instead, he goes to find Grom. People recognize him as he makes his way through the Citadel. People clap in on the shoulder and calls him is REAL name. It’s not hard for him to find the largest “tent”-- they’re actually using spiked-off areas in. The one with the most trophies is Grom’s.
He stops at the gate and waits for Grom to call him in. Grom is currently eating lunch with a massive bone with giant MEAT. He nods and waves Arthak in with his free hand. He’s sitting on a tri-pod chair. Arthak takes a seat and thanks him.
“Not a problem.” He snaps his finger. “Boy! Have you eaten yet?”
Arthak: “Not yet today.”
One of the Warsong comes up with another lightly-roasted trukey leg for Arthak. Arthak eats that shit. They slurp is down. Greasily.
Arthak takes it all in, eating Lunch with Grom Hellscream was not in the plan. Feels good man.
Grom pitches his bone to his warpuppers.
“What can I help you with, Arthak?” Grom asks.
Arthak, meanwhile, is consuming the marrow, and then throws the bone to the kennel. “There were two things, Warlord. One I’ve been trying to find your son. I’ve not had any success. I was wondering if you’ve seen him.”
“Hmph! I didn’t know that it was my job to keep track of my son like a suckling babe. I don’t know where he’s gone.”
Arthak: “Very well. I was hoping to speak with him before we left.”
“Heh, did you want to rub your success in his face as well?”
Arthak: “No. I… was hoping, given the circumstances, we may bury the axe. Not come away from it friends, but there are more important things and places to spend our time than petty squabbles from when we were boys.”
Grom reaches up and picks the meat chunks from his teeth. “It’s quite the axe to bury.”
Arthak: “Hrrrgh….”
“If you ask me you should challenge my son to a Mok’rogon (SP) and be done with it.”
Arthak: “Hmph. That would also be a satisfactory resolution.”
“Far be it from me to get in the way of squabbles of young warriors like yourselves. Do what you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
Arthak: “Mostly I just want to make sure I don’t need to worry about… I’d rather take an axe to my front than my back.”
“Ha! Well said.” Grom chuckles.
Arthak: “And speaking of, there is the other matter. I’ll speak plainly. You saw everything that happened the other day, and you also know there are many that would see me dead.”
“Speak plainly. What do you mean to be after?” Grom questions.
Arthak: “Before I go any further with what I’m doing with my warband, I would like to know who intends to take my head, who is indifferent, and who is inclined to see me live to the next dawn. If possible I would like to get those who are indifferent on my side, but at the very least I want to know where I stand with the warlords - anyone that has the strength to determine what happens to me or my warband after this. So, speaking plainly, indifferent, an ally or potential ally, or should I be concerned for the Warsong regarding my own fate?”
“You know boy, I’ve never had a mind for politics, for the posturing and power plays of my fellow chieftains and Warlords. Lemme give you a piece of advice, if you want to survive in the Horde, you need to spend less time looking over your shoulder. “
Grom rises.
“The more time you spend looking over your shoulder, it’s less time you spend looking forward: where your enemies are. If you’re so concerned about the men to your back, I have one simple pieces for advice for you.”
He rips Gorehowl out of the table and tests it. He swings it through the air, he swings around back, it cleaves the 3 wooden spikes behind him. They splinter and go everywhere. “Swing wide.”
Grom hefts the axe over his shoulder.
Arthak: “Hm. Alright. Thank you for the advice.”
“Hehh. Not a problem.”
Arthak stands. “Well then, unless there is anything you felt the need to talk to me about, I have other things I need to take care of before I leave.”
Grom shakes his head and swings Gorehowl back and leans it against the table. “Good luck with your God hunt, Arthak. If you’re looking for glory, heh, well, that’s a good way to find it.”
Arthak: “Hmph. That is exactly what I’m looking for. Lok’tar, warlord.”
Arthak bows. Grom nods and returns the Lok’tar. Arthak walks away smiling. How many times has Garrosh had lunch with his father?
After that, Arthak goes to see Jorin Deadeye.
The Bleeding Hollow area is just gonna go the fuck home. Dranosh is there!
Arthak greets him, and Dranosh returns the greeting. Jorin also greets Arthak, and Arthak returns it. They exchange pleasantries. Arthak doesn’t sleep.
Jorin: “I suppose that’s one good thing about witnessing your death. If you know you aren’t going to be murdered in your sleep it makes the nights more restful.”
“That, I imagine, would be a comfort. If you have the time, uh, I’d like to speak with both of you privately, if I could.”
Jorin nods and sends Dranosh on his way. Arthak, too, nods.
“Hmmph, How fares your father, may I ask? Hmmph.”
Jorin: “He is… stubborn as ever. Over 100 years in this world and he’s still kicking. I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw him for another decades. I won’t be surprised if his death is alone in a bed… he won’t tell me.”
“I hope for his sake that his death is in battle, and not for many years. There’s something to be admired about living that long and not losing one’s edge.”
Jorin: “You can say that, though if there’s anything the Deadeyes are losing are our distant relatives. If my cousins would stop challenging him for leadership, I’d have more cousins to speak of.”
Hmmph. AT least you have a friend in my cousin, and it seems the wisdom to not challenge your father.
Jorin: “I am many things, Arthak, but a fool is not one of them.”
I assumed as much, Dranosh, despite how he plays, is not one to enjoy the company of fools… or at least it’s what I’d like to think.
Jorin: “I would like to think so as well. You came here for a reason?”
“I did. While I wanted to hear how your father was, I have another thing. I will be straightforward with you. Before I leave I need to know who I can… trust to be my enemy, trust to be neutral, and trust to be my ally amongst the great clans.”
Jorin laughs. “Well if there’s anything that you can trust my father to be, it’s only as committed as he needs to be. In his age the last thing he cares about is the squabbles of those outside his own clan. He will be where he needs to be, and the clan will follow, as it always has been.”
Hmmph. If only more of the other Warlords were of a like mind.
Jorin: “Unfortunately not many warlords live quite so long.”
“True. Hnyyn. Still, I’m glad to not have an additional enemy to worry about. Hmmph.”
Jorin: “That being said it goes without saying that Tanaan is still his jungle. Though I know that it is not your intention, to make any challenge on the Bleeding Hollow clan would be risky. He would know about it.”
Arthak hums multiple times through Jorin’s words. “I had no intention of doing so, your clan and your father and yourself, you’re Orcs worthy of respect. I would not insult you and I would honor that.”
Jorin: “Yes, but you must remember I am not your typical Bleeding Hollow representative. A slight could be as minor as stepping on the wrong twig. Tread lightly.”
“Understood.” Arthak considers, “Speaking of… there’s one more reason I wanted to speak to you. Can I trust you to keep this between yourself, I, Dranosh and your father. I know you wouldn’t keep secrets from your father.”
Jorin: “Of course.”
For various reasons we’re not heading straight for Tempest Keep. We have business elsewhere, business that will take us through your lands. We’ll need passage from Fang’rila.”
Jorin: “I see. Well. As you know Fang’rila is a proving ground for our young warriors, and sometimes for our elder warriors as well. It’s a bit of a sport. Ever since the saberon?? Were defeated. Passage through it could prove difficult. As much influence as I have, I cannot get you to the shore safely.”
“Very well.”
J: “You may need to play my father’s game. You may need to abide and play his game.”
Arthak: “I would rather do that than skulk through your lands like a coward.”
J: To skulk through the lands of the Bleeding Hollow is much to blunder through any one else’s.
Arthak: “I’d be much the fool for trying.”
Jorin: “The way I see it, if you go to the edge of Fang’rila and make enough noise someone will meet you. Ideally it will be with their weapons sheathed. Then you can-”
Arthak: “... Negotiate as I need to.”
J: “Aptly put.”
“Thank you. Hhhrrg, I wish to do what I need to do without, hrrg, getting involved in any irrelevant schemes.” He sighs.
Jorin: “If you’re looking to earn the trust of anyone, especially my father, doing as the Bleeding Hollow does is not a bad direction to start. I would travel with you, but duty calls Dranosh and I west for the time being.”
Arthak: “I appreciate the sentiment regardless, it would be a privilege to travel with you, as it was to have Dranosh. There’s much work to be done.
Jorin: “Indeed.”
I guess I should let you return to that very work.
J: And I you
The two bid each other farewell. Arthak heads to Dranosh.
Dranosh gestures to him and says he will be going back to say goodbye to the rest of the warband in a bit, though if he misses anyone to give them his regards.
The two discuss meeting back up after everything is over, one way or another. Arthak thanks Dranosh for everything that he did/done. Dranosh is all humble, everything is on Arthak on the last mission-- Dranosh calls himself the handsome one.
Arthak says that someone in the family has to be pretty, which Dranosh returns that it is certainly not Arthak. There is a bit more banter between the two of them.
“You got the face. I got the brains.” Arthak nervously jokes. What’s a humor?
It’s a type of bone I can break, right?
AHAHAHA.
Arthak says he owes his uncle and Dranosh. Dranosh rebuffs it. Though, Arthak seems to feel the pressure of what he’s decided to do.
Arthak extends an arm, Dranosh matches him. “Lok’tar Ogar, brother.”
Arthak asks Dranosh to take care of their uncle, too, almost hesitantly.
Dranosh requests that he watch the Draenei. Arthak huffs at both Draenei being called “the feisty ones.” One may yet still try to kill him, they joke.
~~~~~~~~
Arthak then walks around the camp, getting supplies and the like, he’s approached by someone. A voice cuts through the crowd.
‘Rend and Maim.”
Arthak turns. It’s an orc woman, kind of. She’s a half-orc in the service of Gul’dan named Garona Halforcen. Her eyes glow a faint purple.
“Those are your master’s choices?”
Garona nods, “Armor and weapons. Their nameday celebration is in one month.”
Arthak: “Very well. I will see that they are provided with black iron steel weapons and armor - the best I can make. What weapons? Axe I’m presuming?”
Garona pauses. “There was no instructions, so creator’s choice.”
Arthak grunts, as per usual. “Is there any other considerations I should make while crafting? If your master intends to enchant them, perhaps.”
Garona shrugs, “I was given no other orders than that. If there’s more I don’t know.”
“Very well. Tell your master it will be done as I promised.”
Garona nods and goes to turn away. She walks away and another one passes… and she vanishes. He notes her weapons.
~~~~~~
Arthak heads to speak to Kargath Bladefist’s. They’ve made strides in 50 years. They have all sorts of fun hands; swords, axes, a giant fork, a harpoon.
As Arthak enters, he gets any variety of names as he arrives. He takes it in stride. He keeps getting distracted by their clever collection of hands.
One of the orcs grabs A. by the shoulder. He’s got a trident for a hand. “Ey, coward spawn. Which of the two things do you think is better?”
He shows Arthak two separate prong-hands. He sees that both of them are ifly made. He determines that he could improve upon both of them. That being said, he points to the 5=-pointed one,. As it’s less likely to get the points caught in something. The other one would be more pront to getting stuck.
The two Orcs that were bickering enter a friendly brawl. They trade blows and, yes, the other one gets stuck. They get fucking tangled. Arthak smiles because they’re all insane in a loveable way. He reminds them that he was serious about giving them better steel.
He heads towards Kargath’s tent. HE GOES DEEPER. He comes across the pale green chief. He’s barking orders at Clan members. When he sees Arthak, he smiles wide. “HAh! Athak Saurfang! The man of the hour! What can old Kargath Bladefuist do for you today?”
Arthak requests an audience. He inquires the same thing that he has. He asks if he could have Allies in the Shattered Hand if he comes back with the Naaru.
Kargath’s smile fades at that. “Do you really think that’s how things work in the Horde, boy? Break bread with the Chieftains and everything is hunky dory?”
Arthak explains that he wants to know what to expect when he returns with the Naaru.
‘Words are like wind, everyone's got em and everyone can blow it out their ass. I can make whatever promises today, I can promise to marry your first child or fuck your dead mother. I won’t. You have to make your own way, make your own path.
Don’t listen to anyone. It’s how the Horde Works, it’s how the Legion works.
I wouldn't listen to them, they;ll stick an axe in your back when it’s convenient. I know you’d do the same, as do I.”
Arthak was listening to the Warlord. He explains that he knows. He explains that he wants the people he kills to be awake,
“You’re a dying breed, Arthak Saurfang. I’ll give you one guess as to why you’re a dying breed.” He raises his bladed his hands, “Not everyone you face will have a blade in hand, some of your biggest threats won't. I’d remember that, otherwise your breed may become extinct.”
Arthak says we’ll see. Kargath says he can’t wait to see how it goes, “The warlord will shit their pants.”
Arthak thanks him for Kargath’s advice, and the fact that he was upfront. ‘Words are wind.”
Arthak says he’ll swing wide. Kargath guesses it’s Grom. They agree he shouldn’t listen to the advice.
The two part ways, he goes to seek Azuka Bladefury next. gODSPEED.
He walks into the Burning Blade camp. He’s surrounded by Fel Orcs immediately. As soon as he gets close, they stop what they’re doing. They stare hard.
One of the orcs goes to scruff Arthak, he manages to shove the Orc back. The other start to make a circle around him. They’re not armed, but they are big, gross, and barricading.
“Hmmph.” Arthak considers. “I want to speak with your Warlord.”
A fel orc snarls at him and swings at him as he says “You’re not gonna talk to anything but the ground I put you in!”
Arthak ducks and ducks again. They swing and miss.
“Who do you think, cowardspawn, walking into our camp like this? I’LL GUT YOU WHERE YOU STAND!”
Arthak looks at the orc, “Hmmph. If you want to… come and give it a shot.”
The fel orc does in fact charge him, but he misses. Another one also misses.
Arthak punches the fuck out of an orc. The Orc snarls.
“I wanna talk to your Warlord. If you want to draw blood, take it to the arena so everyone can enjoy it.”
The fel orc’s eyes burn red and he goes to swing again, but his arm doesn’t go anywhere. He pulls for a second and then turns to look at who’s behind him, but then a black blade with red runes just drives through his chest. He falls, and Azuka Bladefury kicks him off her blade.
The other orcs back the fuck out.
Standing before Arthak is Azuka. The brings her katana around. She whips the weapon aside, flicking fel orc blood to the ground. “YOu wanted to talk right.” SHe holds out a hand, “I’m all ears, cowardspawn.”
Arthak grunts, then sighs. “You want me dead. Hmph. And I can’t say I blame you between, hmph, my ancestry and what I’ve done to your warriors in the arena. You’re also not alone in wanting me dead.”
“I’m certain that I’m not. You’re right. I’ve been known to be a jealous type. I don’t want anyone else to claim that right, do I?” She rockets towards him and attacks him.
However, Arthak managed to block the first blow. She runs another attack by him, feinting around. The blade crackles with flame, but he is able to block again.
Arthak does not want to feel the Bazooka.
Azuka has a look on her face. Arthak isn’t sure, but she’s probably trying to see how he’s going to reacting. She seems to be holding back.
Arthak dodges. He explains that he’s here to talk.
“Let your blade do the talking, Arthak. That’s how the Horde works!”
‘So people keep telling me.” He charges, attacking this time. He knows she’s holding back, but he’s gonna play it out. He hits.
She smiles as he lands the blow. A fleck of her blood flicks onto his cheek and it stings.
She immediately follows up with another strike and hits him hard. He’s hardly standing but still going.
Teetering, Arthak hits her once more. She then counters and she cackles. She flips backwards, throwing her weapon up, roundhouse kicking Arthak, catches her blade, and goes to stab his face. The sword goes in the dirt, his foot goes on his throat. Instead, Azuka’s throat lands on his throat and she leans forward. “Let this be a lesson, Arthak. You’re not half as invincible as you thought you were. I’m in a good mood, so I’m letting you walk out with your tail between your legs. Next time, though, next time we’ll see. Maybe I’ll send you to an early family reunion. That sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?”
Arthak spits. “:Or maybe I’ll send you to one of your own.” Arthak smiles, cause fuck it.
Azuka laughs and then gets up off of Arthak’s throat. She steps back.
The other fel orcs chuckle. Azuka orders them not to touch Arthak, as he has wounds to lick. She threatens them all.
Arthak picks himself up, spits out some blood, and simply says, “Good talk, Bladefury.”
SO THAT HAPPENS.
He hobbles back to camp, bleeding, bruised, a little fucked up. He’s strangely smiley though. It’s a rare grin.
The party questions what happened to him. Arthak explains that he got in an altercation. He had “fun.” Arthak seems invigorated by a wholesome fight.
Arthak asks Remnii to help him with his injures, and she agrees, though she made note of the twinkle in Arthak’s eye. Sorak suggests she leave it, and Yrel commented on the fact orc diplomacy results in coming back sliced to pieces.
While she is doing that, Remnii also took his pulse before she took a step back. “Be careful if you want to keep your head about you. But you are all better.”
Arthak reassured her that he would not fight every time, it was just wise to show where the lines are drawn without lies, schemes, and disguises.
They continue to talk for a bit, and Remnii states she is glad Arthak isn’t dad. He admitted that Azuka wanted to make a point to him as well, though she did not need to make it. Remnii nods, but then moves to disengage from the conversation.
Arthak stated that the Horde doesn’t show any more mercy to its own than it does to the draenei, but they also fight alongside each other.
A little bit later, Remnii makes her way out of the tent - still looking tired - and was not surprised to find Arthak still awake. He also had trouble sleeping given the excitement of the day. She said that it may seem out of sorts to ask, but she had a question for him about where he decided to go. She began to wonder why Arthak even considered the thought of going where prisoners wanted to go.
Arthak looks at Remnii with a bit of surprise and confusion. He says that Remnii and Yrel are part of the warband, so of course he was willing to hear their side of things and their votes did count in the decisions that were made.
Remnii stated that he answered her question and apologized for the sudden approach. She admitted she expected to be taken away in chains, but she said she didn’t need to ask anymore questions as a lot was riding on Arthak.
Arthak sighs and starts to speak, but then shut his mouth for a moment. Then he offered to explain how Go’el and himself became friends. Remnii said she would love to hear it.
Arthak explained that when he was a boy he had a good friend who he could empathize with. He told the friend things he wouldn’t share with bloodkin. Eventually Arthak reached a point where he felt he need to prove something and he made some poor decisions, and the person he thought was his friend turned and became his tormentor. Ultimately that only encouraged the poor decisions, and eventually Arthak was sent to the Frostwolves where he met Go’el.
Go’el took pains to become Arthak’s friend, and his parents also were kind. However, Go’el’s parents were murdered and Arthak was the primary suspect. Ogrimm Doomhammer called him back to Hellfire Citadel, and Go’el came with Arthak and spoke on his behalf in order to persuade Doomhammer of his innocence. However, in the process Go’el sacrificed a lot - he ultimately had to taste the demon blood, as had many people in his clan. Also as a result, Doomhammer had been killed.
Ultimately, Arthak learned a valuable lesson. “There is only one way to measure trust, and that is in sacrifice.”
Arthak then fell silent, lit another cigarette, and continued sharpening his blade.
Remnii starts to chuckle and also cry softly. “You know Arthak, everyone’s come through so much. You can be centuries old, or two decades or less, and yet the same truths are still so evident. Sometime, well first, thank you for sharing… Go’el is a good man and so are you.”
Arthak just grunts in response because Remnii is emotional and he’s not good with emotions.
Remnii also asks Arthak to remind her to tell him a story about sacrifice, and she will tell him how she ended up on Draenor. She sniffles again and says she won’t hold him up anymore and thanks him again. He just shrugs and says she is welcome to stay if she wants. He’s just winding down time until he gets tired.
Remnii, as he seemed done talking, starts to pray.
The next morning they pack everything up and they start to head south toward one of the many holdings that belong to the Bleeding Hollow clan. They go by the south road and take a fork in the road, but as they are going they see something in the middle of the road on their way out.
It’s a familiar cart because last time it was in a pile of sludge.
The wheels are fixed! :D
As the group approaches, they see the faces of a certain peon and a certain wyrmtongue. The wyrmtongue is kicking his feet while the peon checks things in the back. Where there was a shoddy banner of the Twilight’s Hammer, there is now no banner.
As the group sees this, Yrel just says, “Wait. Seriously?”
As the party continues down the road, the wyrmtongue sees them and shouts, “T-T-THERE THEY ARE!” He hops off the cart and the peon joins him. They hail the group down.
Remnii: “Azgadaan. Your friends are back.”
The wyrmtongue hops into the cart, grabs a sack, and the pair rushes over to the group. Azgadaan and Arthak go to great them. Mork says they were hoping they were coming this way, and Mindi explains that Cho’gall wasn’t happy they lost the bag of holding and the pair got chased off. Mork finished that they were now out of a job.
Arthak blinks down at them. He looks to Azgadaan and back to the peons. He explains where they’re going and that they’re Azgadaan’s problem now. He wants to press on.
Azgadaan tells them to come along. They’re hired.
Mindi hefts the sack off of his shoulder. He opens the sac, inside of it is a nice collection of nick-nacks and root veggies that seem to be taken from Nagrand. Most of them are uncorrupted.
NICK NACKS AND SNACK
They brought things they found on their way. Mork also picked flowers. The bad has 300 gp, and some things they can use to trade. There’s 15 days worth of fruits and veggies-- half of which is uncorrupted.
Mindi introduces himself by his full name, but says they can call him Mindi.
Sorak was able to identify a few of the plants as some really important plants for a variety of different reasons - namely for preparing food, making potions, or even making poisons.
Mork gives a pretty blue flower to Remnii. She looks around for a moment and points to herself, and Mork nods because it matches her. She puts the flower in her braided hair.
Yrel blinks because it’s adorable and she doesn’t like it, but she does, but she doesn’t know.
They travel south for about three days. After the third day, they start to get into thicker, hilly jungle areas. They also start to hear the ambient sounds of the jungle. The area ranges from incredibly corrupted to seemingly not corrupted at all.
The group was not trying to be silent, and a fog was obscuring some areas from view. Sorak made note of a flicker of dark green, and there was a bone spike sticking off of a large stick as a group of orcs ran through the fog.
The Bleeding Hollow Clan was watching.
After a time, a number of figures stepped forward. There was an orcen woman with long-black hair, and she asked who the group was.
Arthak introduces himself, Sorak, and his warband.
She sniffs the air and she states they small like Hellfire. Arthak confirmed they had just come from there and he explained that they needed to cross the water and wished to traverse the Bleeding Hollow lands with the clan’s leave.
Her eyes dart to each one of the warbanders. She huffs. “Come.” She turns and pulls forth other orc warriors. They materialize from the woods and then lead the party.
Before the party realizes it, they step through the gates of a settlement. The village is orcish in nature, bone spikes decorate the place. There’s other people around, many hunters and warriors. Non-combatants are carrying jugs of water, some children watch them. There are more tusks in the area, each a foot or so long. There are feline skulls all over the place.
One hut is lined with tusks, feathers, and skulls.
There is also a strange contraption, an Arcane construct. Remnii notes that Okinduin, she saw constructs knows as Vigilants. This thing is slightly different. It’s not unreasonable that they’re made of similar creation. None of its lights are on and it sits slumped in a corner.
?version=6a6f801b1e65d7a8b4b05002cd6aa6d8Azgadaan is able to tell it is some sort of construct that is imbued with arcane life, similar to something the Burning Legion may employ, but it isn’t exactly like what the Burning Legions uses. For one thing, it wasn’t running on fel magic.
The hut’s door flies open. His eye socket is empty and bleeding, he’s fleeing in terror. There’s a whooshing noise with a thunk. An axe comes whistling out and it thunks into the back of his head. He comes to a stop right before the party.
A haggard voice from the hut say.
The orc is OLD with mottled gray skin with a beard. He yells about stupid kids trying to take the Clan from him. And he asks who the party is.
Arthak introduces himself.
Old man asks why he should care.
Arthak requests permission to move through the lands.
The old orc simply said to “Forget about it” and he walked back into the hut.
