"Mighty Thoku. First we should explore this town ourselves. We must know the exact location to search in the town itself no guessing. Else the attack of our hordes may end before we have a chance to secure this tomb. The pink skins remember nothing as they have too many words to pass down stories, their short memories means they write their legends down. I will find this place where they write the legends down and exploit this weakness to gain knowledge lost by them!"
Choot taps his tattoo and takes on the appearance of one of the half-breeds. "You see, I will go in and back out without raising suspicions. When the location is found, then will our mighty people strike! Perhaps you should come with me Warlord so that you can find where their defenses are most weak!"
Thoku speaks so only choot can hear him
"their chief is weak to afraid to enter as the main for and just sends spies in his place. We should take his tribe and add the strong to our arm"
Looking at the Kneeling One "tell me you have lived as a serf in this city all you life and now you with to raise out of your station and use the power of your orc blood to dominate the soft ones. But you have never heard of story's, hinting at were this tomb could be"
looking at choot
"doom speaker tell me are his words filled with smoke and lies.."
Sense Motive
"I concur Choot..."
The kneeling Orc quivers beneath fearsome Thoku's terrible claws. His water staid his leathers and pools upon the stones at his knees. Chief, we are the strongest in the town. We're hunters and guards for merchants. We feed the town! And yet, we are mistrusted! We must explain our whereabouts at every turn, and are forbidden from entering the inner city where the oldest records are kept without human escort. There are few humans who will ally with us, those who do, are mercenaries Screed has bought from Freedom Town. We receive less gold and and praise for our efforts compared to a a the humans, even though we do the same, or more, work! We have heard that the Hordes honor the strength of a man's arm and his skills more than the nature of his birth. Why should I serve a coward just because his ancestors built a town or killed a bunch of enemies, when the coward has done naught but wet himself in battle? Or, hid his under his gold?
Several of the other half breeds nod and snarl in agreement. None of them have any love for Trunau.
Chief, Daktani speaks up, stil holding himself deferentially towards Thoku. What Sharn says is true. The humans keep their histories locked in their oldest buildings... The church of their weak goddess Imoedae. The church is in the oldest part of Trunau, if there is any record of the Tomb, it'd be there. The humans have short memories. They do not know their own history! The tribes of these lands tell stories of the mighty Hero Chief Uskoth, and his great Horde that drove the humans south of the Conquered Lands. They tell how he died, although not clearly where,. Skreed's shamans and wyrd -speakers have said that the tomb lays beneath Trunau. We accept this as true, for they are wise in the words of the Chiefs in Fire and Blood, and their tongues are filled with smoke and the paths of stars. You may leant much if you go to the Old Town, but we are forbidden from going.
"Then to the temple of Iomedae we must find our way. Forbidden or not, we will find what needs finding."
Choot taps his tattoo again and his face takes on a Human guise, "Then alone I shall go into this den of filth and read the books of these pinkskins!" Choot cackles with delight.
"Tell me Sharn, tell me of the dress of these pinkskins and the names they commonly use. I shall use guile where force will not do to plume the secrets they have so foolishly written down..."
Thoku's skin ripples as he takes the visage of a human
"as much as i hate to hide my form, i will join you in this the rest of you do what you must to look passable in this hated place. Sharn when are you expected back and will anyone notice if you joined be a few more..."
"I wish not to be tainted by the weakness of the human town. But if the tribe wish it, so mote it be. I can hide beneath my mask, but it may not be a fitting facade for yon church..."
As long as there is a human with you, you may enter the Old Town.. Sharn stands and begins to clean himself off of his soiled clothes. We must return soon. A new group will not go unnoticed, but it will go unremarked if you appear to be simple merchants or travelers. Those come got the town frequently enough. Merchants are the lifeblood of the town. They will not ask hard questions, for fear of turning you away. The humans always love their yellow metal.. Sharn sneers and spits to lay the town.
Choot retains his Human visage but lowers his head in prayer, "The Destroyer guide our path that we may see the end of these pinkskins and their feeble ways allowing for the restoring of glory to our people!"
"Then I shall also travel into the town with you, being half-orc should let me into the town with you. There may be things to learn of the weaker race, or knowledge glean or to steal." Kraq finishes with a smile.
"Same here. I can blend with the humans when need be. I doubt my companion will be able to come with us, however."
The humans are afraid of the great beasts of the wastes! Even their earth-speakers shun the mighty animals of our wastes! But, even the humans have learned to tame fierce predators as they stalk the conquered lands! Your pets will draw eyes, yes, but they are not unheard of.
Daktani nods with his spies. Our chief has spoken. Return to the village and find the Tomb.. The spies pound fist to chest and stalk out behind Thoku and Choot.
"Well then, good." Kern pats Grell on the head, glad to be able to take her along.
The Tribe of the Bleeding Storm trickle from the ruined temple like blood leaking from a wound. First, Daktani's spies leave in ones and twos, from all corners of the ruined walls. Some move to the eastern ridge line, others go north towards the plains of the Conquered Lands. A few go south towards the soft lands of the slaves. Sharn stays to guide the tribe along the unseen paths that will take them the gates of Trunau.
Chief, we are unable to meet within the walls of the humans. They watch all who have orc blood within them, and keep us from gathering in large numbers. Sharn smirks and flexes his muscles. They rightly fear the strength of the orc! In three days, we spies will return to make our reports to Daktani and receive new orders from Skreed. It may be wise to return then. He pounds his fist to his chest and then steps out into the dawn.
Skreed is a capable scout, and leads the Tribe through rocky outcroppings and around ridges that are never fully in site of the towers. He's clearly experienced in hiding, and Kern is quite confident that they have gone unnoticed by the humans. The southerly path turns west and, finally, north a bit, and he points to dusty, rutted path leading south and north. Follow this path north, Chief. It is a trade-path from the slave lands to Trunau. Our kind are common in the area, and many humans hire use for our strength and prowess. They will not suspect two human merchants and their half-orc guards. Before the gates are flat rocks that the humans use as a market when they buy and sell their strength. Sharn spits on the ground. Cowards! I must go. They will grow suspicious if I do not return with meat this day. He turns and heads into the ridgeline, practically melting into the stones and disappearing.
Tents and stalls have been assembled about a pile of flat stones just outside the gates of Trunau. Humans, elves, dwarves, even half-orcs call out their wares for village dwellers. Several rough-looking humans in chain shirts, with swords strapped to their backs stand watch over the market, keeping the peace. They seem more concerned with the half-orcs selling the strength of their arms for a day's labor, or the meat of their kills, than they do with the two cutpurses darting through the crowds. A human in rough-spun clothes hands a small bag of coins to one of the half orcs. The worker shrugs and gestures to two of his companions (a heavily tattooed female and a male with an overly large tusk) and the three clamber into the human's cart and roll off towards the farm plots of the west.
A man in bells and colorful clothes does tricks and leaps through the crowd. Children laugh and scream in delight. Somewhere, people are playing the harp and drums. A man in clean armor and fine clothes walks through the throng. Occasionally, he pats the arms of a sobbing female. He, himself, do not look happy.
Trunau is clean and orderly village built on three tiers. The first is the foot of the hill, surrounded by the wooden walls and the gate. Here, the town is filled with fruit trees and the commotion of moving people. The roads are dusty, and the houses are small, although bigger than the tents of most Chiefs. A large pool of water sits at the base of a small cliff, fed by a waterfall descending from higher up the hill. The smoke and clang of a forge can be heard above the din of traffic. This town has everything it needs to withstand a prolonged raid. Skreed was wise to first use the teachings of Verex to find the tomb. Only the Rat God could easily penetrate the humans' defenses.
At the shores of the pool, the hill begins to rise to the second tier, formed by cliffs bisecting the hill into pieces. A stout wall of stone with guard towers separates the first and second tiers. A third guard wall separates the second tier from the largest tier at the top of the hill. Lone half-breeds are suspiciously patted down as they enter into the second tier, but those accompanied by humans get nothing more than a cursory glance. The peaks of two small temples rise above the rooftops. One from the roofs of the first tier, and one high atop the hill in the third tier.
A half-breed female with dark tattoos and thick muscles stalks towards the forge from the second tier.
As they get to the rocks thoku speaks to choot
"well we should set up a place to hide our purpose here...no mater the place pink ones like. Think to bury the dead..we have a coffin we can make it look as of we are under takers offering our services. Choot you could keep the face of a servant to one of these week gods and enter the church in the vain of study I will learn what I can here in the square, for in all legends and story one can find long forgotten truths."
Once set up I will walk up to the sobbing woman with the guard and offer my services..
The well dressed human walks up gives a small bow to the two and if the woman offers her hand he kisses it.
"good sir and lovely lady I greet you on this day, but it seems as you are burdened with a heavy hart. Loss someone close...I can see well my lady I am thaddeus grim a undertaker by trade...as darker profession but one cannot leave our loved ones to the elements with out consecrated ground...I do keep a man of the cloth in my employ so that all your needs may be met. Tell me how may I be of service to you on this day." the words flow from with with a velvety smooth flavor for a moment even thoku thinks what he is saying is true....he stands with a soft smile waiting for a reply
Kern nods at Thoku's words, looking as much as possible like his bodyguard/employee.
"We also have fine crafted caskets of whatever exotic material you can bring us, we travel the world assisting others with next life transitions!" Do his best sales voice.
Choot nods and agrees he turns to one of the half-orcs, "What Temple shall I start with? I will needs to change my appearance to wear their accursed garments, at leas for a little while..."
"Let's start with their weak goddess Iomedae."
"We also have fine crafted caskets of whatever exotic material you can bring us, we travel the world assisting others with next life transitions!" Do his best sales voice.
The well dressed human walks up gives a small bow to the two and if the woman offers her hand he kisses it.
"good sir and lovely lady I greet you on this day, but it seems as you are burdened with a heavy heart. Loss someone close...I can see well my lady I am thaddeus grim a undertaker by trade...as darker profession but one cannot leave our loved ones to the elements with out consecrated ground...I do keep a man of the cloth in my employ so that all your needs may be met. Tell me how may I be of service to you on this day.
The words flow from with with a velvety smooth flavor for a moment even thoku thinks what he is saying is true....he stands with a soft smile waiting for a reply.
The honeyed words of Verex flow across Thoku’s tongue, as though the Rat God himself speaks with the Bloodied One’s voice. Such is the weakness of the human’s spines that they fall prey to the soft words of the Chief of the Bleeding Storm. They smile, but do not honor the strength of the Tribe by showing their teeth in challenge. Thank you, kind Sir. Our son Roderick died two days ago in An attack by raiders.. The man’s woman collapses into shameful weepin. She does not demand blood feud for her son’s slayer. Nor does the father curse his son’s weakness or take arms to slay his foe! Such is the weakness of humans!
Forgive my wife. Roderick was very precious to us. He was a skilled poet and warrior, the favored of the town. He was to be married soon, and it wa a going to be a feast for everyone.. The man sighs with regret. That will be over, now. Perhaps… We haven't made arrangements, but, perhaps…. Yes, please, show us your wares.
The Wyrd-woman walks about the bazaar, gazing at the shoppers through the eyes of her dreadmasque. The humans all avert their gaze from the hexcrafter. Even among the soft humans, the Sezelrian’s power is known! Several of the half-breeds regard her curiously and with slightly less fear than the humans. Others though, nod to the witch and bare their small tusks and necks as a sign of respect. Perhaps they have not completely lost their tusks to the humans.
As she (and anyone staying with her) receive many dark looks from the humans walking around the bazaar, she notices several of the hybrids flex their muscles and and glare daggers at the humans.
Choot, hiding his true face beneath the false skin of a weakling, has no trouble entering the town. The guards peer suspiciously at Kern, but since the brave hunter is in the company of a human, he enters with nothing more than a cursory glance and a warning to behave. Choot receives a similar admonition to make sure “his half-breed minds his manners.”
Inside, the town is a den of weakness. Children run and play instead of being taught purposeful skills and warcraft. Free men and women toil instead of alaves. In fact, there are no slaves in this town. How can the humans demonstrate their strength and dominance of they do not enslave their enemies and the weak? They weaken their people when they do not cull it!
Still, Choot has little time to waste trying to understand humans. He has a divine purpose. The Chiefs in Fire and Blood demand sacrifice! He and Kern talk deeper into the town, passing through the gates to the middle city. Here, the buildings are of stone, and the streets are cleaner. The gates are thick masonry, and well-formed. The walls of Trunau are strong indeed.
The road passes north and he follows it, higher up the hill through a third hate. A look up reveals an iron portcullis waiting to descend, just like the previous stone wall.
Beyond these gates, Trunau is clean and almost a wilderness. Grass and trees are everywhere, and there are large houses covered in flowers. Their perfume curdles Choot’s stomach withy their sweetness. A longhouse sits to the north, and to the east, a small stone temple to the goddess with open doors and colored glass windows. An elderly man in the white and gold robes of Iomedae sweeps the front steps.
Kern follows Choot's lead, letting him speak in all cases, and ready to defend him if necessary.
"Greetings Brother. I travel from far and wide and seek to enter this holy place to revere the Goddess. Could I perhaps trouble you for a tour of this wretch... fetching building?" Choot smiles beamingly at the old one.
Shakraal receives her respect with cool moderation, neglecting to even acknowledge most of those showing proper deference. Under cover of mastery, she realises there are simmering feuds and feels the discontent and anxiety as a palpable wave of chaos. Breathing it in, the wyrdwarrior keeps her battletalons* at the ready and warfang held in hand in case of sudden relations of a less-than-civil kind.
* spiked gauntlet; also commonly daggers and other small cruel sharp instruments usually found in an interrogator's kit...
Poet warrior? Eh... No wonder we shall retake this land, absoloutly pathetic... I mean I am no warrior but at the very least I am capable in battle and will one day with the grace of Rull shall become a power wizard.
Looking to Thoku and miming his facial expressions as well as he can, staying silent.
Oh my gosh! Take as much time as you need
If the woman's mount catches Choot's slip, he doesn't notice. Instead, the ancient one smiles, and waves the Voice of Zagresh and Kern with a welcoming arm. Blessings be upon you, travelers! May the Swordmaiden shine her warm light of mercy and benediction over your shoulders! He opens the door to the temple and ushers the two inside.
Inside the pungent reek of burning powders fills the air with a sickly-sweet musk. It is nothing like the strong burning smokes of the braziers and and pyres, nor the sweet mouth-watering aromas of burned flesh offered to the Chiefs in Fire and Blood. Rows of backed wooden benches front an altar and giant sword suspended from the ceiling. It is such a waste of metal, the steel that went into that symbol could have made a hundred swords! The walls are white stone, strongly built, and easy to defend against attack. The Swordmaiden is a warrior, after all. But, her house is easily seen from the battlefield, a target and rallying point on which an army can converge. Tapestries of gold and white cloth drape the walls. Somewhere, a three children sing.
I am Stalwart Dresden. How may I be of service to you, Stalwart?
As Shakraal works, she catches the edge of a conversation.
It has to be tonight?
Yes, idiot! If we do it in the day someone will see!
Some laughing children obscure the conversation for a moment.
I dunno. I don't like this... It's wrong killing them...
The Swordmaiden will understand. And, we're not kiling them, just scaring them. Just enough to get people antsy about the greenskins!
Filthy greenskins!
The pair walk over to the coffins the Bleeding Storm brought with them. They make a great show of examining the boxes, discussing the wood and craftsmanship, and what "poor Roderick would have wanted." What idiots! Fawning over the dead. The dead are food: the mighty are honored by giving their flesh to the greatest of the tribe, strengthening their warriors and ensuring the tribe's dominance and mastery. The weak are fed to everyone, for the tribe must eat, and it is the way of things that the strong prey upon the weak. The remains should be burned as Sezelrian's smoke brings their souls to Zagresh's hoard, to become his slaves and warriors.
Yes.. thank you.. this will do nicely. We will take one.
Fellow Stalwart, I has been told that many books are in this most holy of places. Deeds of a bygone time, I should like very much to read these books, for wisdom of course. Could you direct myself and my bodyguard to these books?" asks Choot gesturing to Kern.
Kraq will finish the transaction with the couple,
"An excellent selection of the finest mahogany, this casket is fit for the Finest warrior indeed."
Kraq doing his best to hide his disdain and sarcasm from the couple.
Shakraal stops beside a stall selling melons and leans against the stall, attempting to look casual and disinterested in the goings on around her. But despite her best efforts, the witch woman cannot convince the soft locals that she is that interested in the ripeness of the farmer's watermelon. Many people simply gawk at the large masked half-orc. Several children point and laugh at the hexcrafter.
She cares not for the fear of the humans around her. She has faced worse scrutiny and mockery from the warriors of her own tribe! Instead, she turns her senses towards the voices coming from beyond the stalls.
Remember the sign. We do it then. A gravelly voice commands. He has the rough voice of a warrior, and the hushed tones one of one who works in the dark of night.
And no priests are to be killed? Another voice, softer and weaker than the first, although just as hushed. It's bad luck killing priests.
Yes, no true friend of Trunau dies. We just want to make it look like a tusker did it. . Another voice sounded, . From the frustration Shakraal heard, it was quite obvious he's said this before.
Bloody half-breeds, too! Someone spat. Its going to be a rough funeral for ok' Roderick tonight!
The voices were coming from the east, towards the cliffs of Trunau..
Stalwart Dresden gives a small smile that doesn't show his teeth, as Choot speaks. Have no fear, Stalwart Ben, I do not hold my parishioners' prejudices. I have sought to teach them that all creatures deserve respect and understanding, and you must treat everyone according to their actions, not those of their neighbors. Your bodyguard is welcome within these walls. He lights another wand of incense and waves the stick in the air, filling the room with more of its horrid stench. We house several books in our library that deal with the history of Trunau and the wars with the orcs. Please come this way. He leads Choot and Kern through a small door behind a curtain and down a short flight of stairs to a small room filled with books.
Thank you! Please have it ready by tonight! We bury him tonight at midnight.
Kern follows through the door, wary for an ambush.
thoku's eyes twitch as the humans speak in his mind he pictures ripping the male apart and gifting the female with his seed, as he is covered in blood...
"do tell good sir, is there a significance to his internment taking place in the dead of night? and is there any specific words you would like my employ to give to your cower...brave son. and will he be placed by the statue at the center of the cemetery? i need to know this as i must set these half-breed to dig the plot"
Hope I am not included in that... task... far beneath me to use a shovel!
Thoku's eyes twitch as the humans speak in his mind he pictures ripping the male apart and gifting the female with his seed, as he is covered in blood...
"do tell good sir, is there a significance to his internment taking place in the dead of night? and is there any specific words you would like my employ to give to your cower...brave son. and will he be placed by the statue at the center of the cemetery? i need to know this as i must set these half-breed to dig the plot"
The male sniffs at Kraq, and the woman shields her eyes. Yes... well.. I suppose they're good for that... He sighs and hugs his weeping woman. Midnight is the hour of passing. It is the fullness of night, but nearing towards day. We light torches and say prayers to Iomedae in defiance of the barbaric savages that surround us. We show our courage and bravery and refuse to bend knee or neck to their wickedness! He will be buried at the statue of the Sword Maiden in the center of the cemetery.
Choot's eyes go wide at the books. He turns and bows to the Stalwart, "May I stay here a while and look through these volumes? So many to read..."
The Stalwart nods and smiles. Of course! Of course! It is so rare for even one of our metal to thirst so for knowledge! Please! Read! I will Johor bring you and your guard food and drink while you read!
"Yes Stalwart, those fools ignore our histories to their peril!"
Choot will sit down and read through the volumes taking his time to look for the specific references to the stories of the mighty Hero Chief Uskoth.
He will look to Kern every once in a while, "Foolish pink skins, so much written word, rambling rambling. Not keeping the tale to what truly matters..."
thoku turns to his tribe "well then now have an excuse to have all of you in the cemetery digging up the area, this will need to be done now go get Shakraal we must make use of the time we have. One of us must stay here so they can bring Choot and kern when they return."
Barbarians, seriously... What a terrible pile of pink refuse these creatures are!
Kraq remains silent and smiling while the whining humans complain about their weakling spawn.
Kern continues to act like Choot's bodyguard, not speaking for fear of giving away his contempt for the long-worded humans.