"A deep question." Halgra says, sipping a small glass of wine, her own food barely touched. "I think the answer is, is there ever really peace? Does the world ever truly rest in such a state where a warrior is not needed? That it is not merely the eye of a storm? Here in Turnau, peace is merely waiting till the next raid,t he next attack, which may be the final one." She pauses and adds, "We enjoy the life inbetween the storms yes, and greatly, but they are just moments between moments, yes?"
"True words. As I have heard.." Noche'Wa doesn't get to here it as the door bursts open. For a moment, the Shoanti's old reflexes stir. Is this violence? Is this battle?
But no. It is merely a portly old merchant, with gray beard and balding head. His thick face is beet red though and he points a finger at Halgra.
"You sit here, eating? I said we needed to organize a expedition!"
Halgra shakes her head and motions to the empty seat at her right. 'Master Elgrim. Please, sit at my table." The man grits his teeth but does so.
Even as he sits though he speaks, tone still hot, "My daughter is out in the wild, probably taken by orcs and you expect me to eat chicken?"
Halgra sighs, "The Council voted no for an expedition." her voice is quiet and sad.
'What?!" Elgrim explodes, standing back up again.
"I said, the Council voted no. It was deemed too risky, and likely a waste of time. They are likely already dead."
'So we do nothing?" The merchant says, his brightly colored robes swirling in his anger.
"I cannot send men and women without agreement, Elgrim. You know that. I am sorry, I really am, but what else would I do?" Halgra says, and then, she looks at Noche'Wa, eyebrow rasied.
Elgrim turns to Noche'Wa noticing the Shoanti warrior for the first time.
"She is a Pathfinder. She was exploring some old ruins at the old Hordeline, just north of here."
Halgra breaks in, voice stern, 'She went with only one guard, against my wishes. She felt that stealth was better then strength." The old female leader turns to Noche'Wa, 'The White Skulls are a new tribe int he area. Rough, unused to the strained peace. They have even attacked other orcs nearby. I would guess they found her."
The merchant adds, "She could still be alive. We need to send someone to see. I know exactly where in the ruins she was." he pulls out a rough map and clutches it, as if it is a direct line to his daughter.
Halgra looks pleased and knowing, and warmly hands Noche'Wa a tall tankard of ale. 'For the road." She says smiling and says, 'They stay at the Barterstones. They have a few huts and tents there."
The merchant Elgrim looks back and forth, trying to figure it out. "I can pay you, sir. But who are you exactly?"
'Sir, I am in your debt." Elgrim says, hurrying to keep up to Noche'Wa's quick pace. 'IS there anything else I can do?" He hands Noche'Wa the battered map showing the rough location of his daughter's site.
Noche'Wa finds his gear and is stopped at the gate. A little explanation however and it is, very carefully opened, revealing a night as dark as any dwarf mine. Only a few fires burn to show where the Barterstone rest. The guards seem very edgy about opening the gate.
Noche'wa enters the dimly lit encampment alone. The merchant would never leave the safety of Turanu at night. The Shoanti walks it unafraid, heading down the road.
The orc encampment is quiet enough, most of them asleep, a few eating or dicing around the fires. he sees a few small scuffles break out, but no blades. As he enters the area of tents and small tumbledown shacks a harsh voice calls out in Orc.
"What are you doing here, pinkskin?"
The orc spits and growls and Noche' Wa worries he'll have to prove hismelf but then a harsh voice says, "I am Korz." The orc Noche'Wa met and drank with comes into the circle of firelight. With a curse the other orc turns back to his food.
Korz eyes Noche'Wa carefully, 'What brings you out of Manhome at night, Shoanti warrior? Do you wish to test yourself against true warriors?' he smiles, showing filed teeth. It is meant as a joke, but Noche'Wa does see the orc is armed with knife and sword.
Korz grins wider, the teeth a white outline of pain and threat in the dark. 'Yes, I am, pinkskin." he says the slur without rancor,a sign of friendship. "Some of your kind are good fighters, or so I have heard. I would like to put you to the test. Who do we fight and why?"
Already he turns to gather up a few of his things, but not much. Orcs travel light, doubly so when heading toward battle. 'What tribe do we challenge, or do they challenge us? What prize do we contend for?"
When Noche'Wa mentions the White Skulls the orc growls deep in his throat. He mutters some quick orc slang to his brother, who tosses him a short spear. The head is dark,cruelly tipped. Orc make certainly.
"The White Skulls have challenged us on the road. We will kill them all, you and I." A pause then, 'The woman will be mine, by right of combat. I hear human woman can be interesting, if soft."
The Orc laughs, a deep, throaty sound that echoes in the quiet night.
"You feel this way? You turn your back on Korz of the Strongarm?" The Orc throws his head back and laughs more.
'You, pinkskin warrior. You feel this way? Fight me for her. If you win, you may do as you choose. If I win, I will have the joy of seeing you run into Manhome, tail between your legs."
He draws a long sword, too fine to be of orc make, and holds it rock steady in a huge, gnarled fist. 'We will not even fight to the death, like my people would. Only until you give up." The orc grins in the darkness, teeth glittering.
The orc howls with delight and power and in the dim light Noche'Wa can see the rage enter the orc's eyes. His muscles swell, skin tighten, the howl grow in power and might. A few other orcs poke their heads out to see the contest, cheering Korz as their champion.
Waving his sword he grins at Noche'Wa and heaves the wicked spear with great force.
The orc laughs as some of Noche'Wa's blood spills onto the road. 'You mark easily, pinkskin!" korz says, leaning low over his blade, which dances back and forth.
Korz growls a roar of challenge at the trio of Noche'Was. if he is concerned that two Shoanti warrior appeared out of nothing, he doesn't look concerned. If anything he seems pleased at the sudden odds.
Noche'Wa does here a murmur of approval from the watching orcs, who are growing in number. More torches are brought out, fires stoked, to shed more light on the impromptu battle. A few even start up a orcish battle chant.
Korz, waves his sword then charges, at full speed at the Wild Mouse. Dirt flies beneath his iron shod feet, churned by his momentum.
The mighty blow misses Noche'Wa but it does destroy one of the fake bards.
Noche'Wa's move sends the orc sprawling into the dust. With a roar Korz hits the ground, tumbling to a prone position.
Even on the ground, the sword lashes out at the Mirror Images. The mighty blow misses Noche'Wa but it does destroy one of the fake bards.
Korz thrashes a bit on the ground, dry grit in his eyes. The bellow exposes his large white teeth, almost like tusks. Finally, the orc rolls to his feet, weapon in hand.
The other orcs are shouting now, some banging sword on shield, some simply beating their chests. To his surprise, some of the orcs are rooting for him.
Carefully, Korz stays out of range of the spear, sword hung low. "Come fight me!" The orc roars, still blinking out the grit,a nd rubbing at it with his hands.
Noche'Wa is impressed. Even blind and prone, the orc is tough to hit. The Shonati nails him both times, but the first time it is close. Even now, standing, blood streaming down his chest the orc looks ready for more.
It is obvious though even the orc is running out of reserves of strength and stamina. His limbs sag, his head droops, his roars become more muted, drowned out by the stamping and clatter of the watchers.
He finally rubs the grit out of his eyes, and stares, bloodshot at Noche'Wa. For a moment Noche'Wa thinks the orc will stop, perhaps admit defeat but instead he sets his head down and charges forward.
[spoilers=Korz Rolls]
[/spoilers]
Again Korz hits the dirt, hard, throwing up clods of the stuff. Roaring in frustration, he lashes out at Noche'Wa.
The mighty blow misses, shreds another image, but not the orc is beat. Heaving great gasps, bleeding from multiple wounds, battered from two heavy landings and Noche'Wa over him...It is too much.
Slowly the orc exhales, and the Shoanti can see the muscles relaxing, shrinking, the magical rage receding. When Korz looks up, his eyes are clear andnormal.
"You fight well, pinkskin. You win." the word are quiet but every observer hears them. Some laugh, some cry in despair, most cheer Noche'Wa as a rightful victor.
The orc spits on the ground and rolls to his feet. "When do we leave?"
Korz grunts and his brother throws him a flask. As he unstoppers the rough leather pouch the orc says, 'This is not much." he waves a hand over his bleeding and bruised upper body. "But yes, not fit for traveling."
He swigs the flask and Noche'Wa can see his flesh heal magically, as blood stops flowing, muscles repair and skin knits itself back to the usual green-gray smoothness. Even his varied tattoos reform correctly.
With a satisfied grunt, the orc tosses the flask aside and re-gathers his supplies. "Shall we kill some White Skulls?"
The other orcs slowly go back to their fires and food.
"What of you?" The orc says, confused then grins. "Ah, your wounds? I barely scratched you."
But without complaint he goes to a nearbye tent. After awhile he returns with a wand. "I have bought this with my own. It is a sign of your victory. Enjoy it, pinkskin. You fought well."
Korz hands Noche'Wa a wand of Cure Moderate Wounds. It has 15 charges.
The Orc steps a fast pace, eating up the miles even as the sun rises to the east, throwing the land into bright sunlight. It is fairly green here, with stands of trees, meadows, and a few springs. They scare out a few rabbits and deer but they ignore them.
"I know little." Korz admits. "They are a new tribe, like so many in the Conquered Lands." he waves an arm at the land around him. "It is a soft land, an easy land. Many tribes and clans start here, before venturing north."
He pauses then goes on, "The White Skulls have attacked many of my clan lately, more to gain honor then any great skill. Event he Empty Hand has limits and few of my people are here, making them easy to outnumber and overwhelm."
He grunts, "I know they fight hard, reckless." That coming from Korz was more then a bit worrying. "They do not have any great champions that I know of."
As for the last question, "They fear defeat, they fear being branded cowards, as all orcs do. At least all orcs with honor."
Then he stops, boots sinking into the rich earth and points. There, by a smudge of trees, is a thin line of smoke snaking upward. It was only noon, too soon to be the Hordeline.
'Perhaps our prey?" Korz says, doubtfully.
'Afraid?" The orc offers but agrees, nonetheless.
Togetehr they sneak up on the smoke, threading through light woods and empty fields.
They make a good bit of noise though, and Noche'Wa is sure they'll be noticed. But nothing happens. Soon he sees why, peeking around a pile of dead brush.
The smoke is from a campfire. A tent, and two bodies (orcs?) lay besides it. They are obviously dead, not sleeping. The fire is dying, probably from the night before.
It is hard to see more while hiding.
Korz stares at Noche'wa oddly but stays silent.
To Noche'Wa the scene becomes clear. The little campfire is smoldering out. The tent is ripped and damaged. Orc corpses lay by the fire, heads smashed in. Around the disfigured necks lie necklaces of small white skulls. The other gear is trampled but not stolen or destroyed on purpose.
There are tracks but too confused for the Shoanti to read. The attack was hours ago, probably early last night.
The pair head into the meadow. Noche'Wa inspects the fallen corpses carefully. While he does so Korz circles the camp, looking closely at the ground.
"I don't recognize the tracks." The orc says, 'I can see their and something...else. Something heavy." he bends down for a closer look at some disturbed grass.
As he does so there is a wild yell from the woods nearbye. Whirling, Noche'Wa can see a young, stringy looking orc charging him, spear held high! Covered with warpaint, he can just make out a single Skull hung around his neck.