8. Hostile intentions

T.M.O.L.: Campaign Notes: Chapter 9

The morning dawns with a bustle of activity in the Stormwolf camp and already it is mostly deserted. Foxtouch approaches Krolmar and says, "Something has come up, and Prag the Stalker has already gone. I am to stay here with my part-pack to -- to make sure that the killers have been finished. We am ready to investigate the ruins whenever the Or'mik Jrikko is ready."

The others wake up to see almost all of the orks leaving while Foxtouch and half a dozen others stay behind. Sarn feels groggy and discovers to his dismay that his right arm is too numb to move. Brashak drinks a potion to wash down some dry rations and feels a better as a result.

While they make preparations the orkish lady asks Krolmar, "So what are you doing here anyway?"

"We are looking for an ancient book and necklace. Supposedly it is in amongst these ruins. If you don't mind looking out for something like that when we pick through them I would be most grateful."

Krolmar gathers his equipment together and speaks to his companions. "I am going with Foxtouch's pack to fix the problem of a few killers," explains the ork, "something you all were mistaken for. You are welcome to join us but I wouldn't recomend it looking at your condition. Sole, I think we can give trigger boy here his bolts and arrows. Let's hope he thinks first before he fires next time. It'll save us a lot of hassle maybe."

"What do you mean? Should I wait getting slaughtered by a bunch of wild orks?" Sarn responds outraged.

"Look at me. Am I not an ork? Have I not spoken to ork clans in this area before?" starts Krolmar. "Sometimes there is such a thing as diplomacy."

Sarn shrugs. "Diplomacy? I'm no more a diplomat if I'm approached that way as they did. But now it has happened so forget about it. The next time if any orks approach us, regardless the way they do it, I'll wait for you to deal with them." Sarn declines with a nod.

Sole smiles slightly as Krolmar starts preeching about diplomacy, "If there is one person who can't . . ." Sole thinks. "I guess we will be here then. Have fun," Sole says to the Warrior.

"If not," Sarn adds, "you may collect our remains and bury them properly. I really don't know what's crawling around here, but I don't want to meet it. Go ahead and enjoy yourself, I think we can deal with our wounds alone and lick them."

Krolmar stands equipped and sword drawn, looking at Foxtouch. "I am ready".

The party of orks slinks through the ruins with weapons drawn. As they near the tower one of the orks points out a rope dangling from a broken window. "Someone is still alive," hisses Foxtouch.

"We sure are, no thanks to you!" calls out a voice. As one the orks spin to face the killers. A t'skrang with a fancy sword stands in front of two dwarves and an elf. One of the dwarves points a levelled crossbow at the orks and the other needs nothing but his robes to show his potential. The elf carries an axe in one hand and a sword in the other.

"An oversight soon to be remedied," replies Foxtouch softly.

"What did we ever do to you?"

"You killed our wolf brothers."

"They attacked us first! What were we supposed to do?"

"The wolf brothers only defend against aggressors. You must pay." The orks start to advance purposefully.

From between two rubbled stone buildings a female voice calls out. "Stop right there!" Both the orks and their intended targets turn to face the sound. A group of Namegivers emerge, consisting of a human lady, two dwarven women, a troll, and an ork. All of them are heavily armed and armoured except the human lady who wears thin white robes. Krolmar recognizes her as Alana, the Illusionist who caused trouble in New Lebensraum and Ekranar a few months ago.

Alana smiles sweetly at everyone. "Now all we want is the ork Krolmar and his pesky friends. Do you intend to resist?"

Krolmar looks at Foxtouch and speaks briefly in orkish. "I don't think Krolmar would have intention to give into her. She has the ways of not the sword, but magic of trickery. What of the others accused of killing the brothers, maybe we can pass deal and judgement on them in one swipe."

"Our priority is the murderers."

One of the other orks whispers, "There are almost two part-packs of them and only one of us."

Foxtouch thinks quickly, watching the other two groups. Both groups seem to be discussing the situation just like the orks. "Krolmar, how did you get your scar?" The Warrior is taken off guard by the strange question and the orkish lady repeats it earnestly. "How did you get your scar?"

"Fighting a Horror, though I hardly see that as relavent," replies Krolmar quite bemused at the question. "Why do you ask?"

"What did it look like?" Foxtouch seems to think that it is very important.

Still confused, Krolmar answers, "Like a huge wolf as high as a troll at the shoulder, and black in colour. You still have not answerd my question, why do you ask?"

The orkish lady shakes her head but looks at Krolmar in a new light. "There's no time to explain now. Or'mik Jrikko, what do you suggest we do?"

"I think there is a little time right now," says Krolmar as he looks over his shoulder at the other two opposing groups. "As for what to do now. I am interested in why Alana, the one in the robes, in interested in me. It intrigues me why she has spent so much effort to track us down." Foxtouch shrugs in response.

"If they choose to confront us then I ask you for your help, as I have no intention to just give myself up to her without good reason. As for the killers of your brothers we should see what happens there also. It may be best to choose our battles at a more appropriate time."

Krolmar turns to Alana and her companions. "What do you wish of us, Alana?"

The Illusionist assumes a noble manner. "It is time to settle this."

"Die, you murdering swine!" yells one of the orks.

The other group of Adepts immediately tenses into a guarded position and Alana takes advantage of the situation, saying, "Come friends, join us and together we will end the threat of these orks. If you escape they will simply hunt you down again."

"Just try it and see how you do!" yells an ork. Krolmar realizes that he cannot pinpoint exactly which of the orks is yelling.

The t'skrang nods in response to a comment by the elf and holds his sword aloft. "We accept," he calls. The dwarven crossbowman fires.

"Nice trick Alana. You will need more than that though!" yells Krolmar as he joins Foxtouch and her pack in the fray.

Back in the almost deserted ork camp Brashak tries works on the link of his chainmail to get them into a semblance of order. "What do you think about Krolmar and his newfound orkish friends? And what about those other people there? If the orks weren't intent on killing them we could ask them to help us. I suppose we'll never even find out why they were here in the first place."

"Perhaps looking for a necklace and a book? I don't know, but I don't believe in coincidences," Sarn replies. "I won't mind if the orks finish them off, on the other hand, as you've said it would be good to question them." He shrugs. "But I don't think this will happen."

Sole leans back against a rock to ease the pressure on his wounded leg. "I'm not sure what I think. One one hand I'm glad he wasn't knocked unconscious like the rest of us, but then he didn't seem to care to much that we were. He didn't even try to warn us about the orks." Sole shakes his head. "I certainly don't understand him, and I'm starting to wonder if my trust is misplaced. He hasn't been the most stable companion."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at here, Sole," says Brashak. "It didn't look like he knew about the orks any more than we did until they charged at us. I considered that he might be able to reason with them but I didn't think they would listen. Obviously an ork knows orks better than I do."

"But he didn't even try to stop Sarn from firing," Sole adds, "or warn any of us that there was likely to be a whole tribe of orks. He just stood there with a stupid grin on his face. I'm sure orks know orks best but Krolmar seems stranger than most some of the time."

"Sarn was pretty quick with that bow of his, maybe he didn't have time to stop him," Brashak says. "And I don't think he knew about the orks any more than we did. Had I recognized them as Stormwolves I probably would have waited for Krolmar to do something."

"I don't know much about Krolmar. And either I don't know much about orks. In my opinion they go a bit crazy sometimes." Sarn shakes his head. "I can't understand how they can charge at any living being just being around. That hasn't risen my opinion about orks! But don't tell Krolmar, better he doesn't know." Sarn sighs. "I feel much more comfortable with you two, as you did something I won't forget -- without asking for any security!"

Towards Brashak Sarn says, "As we have time now, can you give me some more lessons in trollish? I don't think we can do another thing -- and with my arm I won't prepare any bolts. I hope it'll heal soon."

"I expect that Krolmar will be back soon, but we can continue until then if you like."

"That's fine. But even I don't know when he'll be back. I hope soon, but don't expect it. Who knows whatever can happen around here." Then he leans forward, listening to Brashak as he teaches him some new trollish words. Since the last lesson was quite some time ago it takes a little while for him until he gets into it. Soon he reaches his old standard and he continues learning more of the language.

In the warm sunrays Sarn concentrates on the cleansing power of fire and the blood around his wounds starts to bubble and boil. When the wisps of red tinged smoke clear his open cuts are almost all closed but the deeper pain and damage remains. The Archer still has trouble using his arm but he makes a sling for his arm to ease the pain and keep it still.

Sole watches Sarn as his blood seems to boil. "I've seen you do that before Sarn. What talent is that?"

"That talent? It is the fireblood talent. And, yes, it is really useful! Fast healing and it is better then a nights rest!"

"Do you think you could teach it to me sometime? It looks to be very useful."

Sarn shrugs. "Why not? It could help you to stay longer conscious and longer alive."

The peacefulness of the morning is broken by a dozen battlecries. The first ork falls with a bolt through the neck before he can even take a step. Krolmar dashes forward and reaches the dwarven Archer first to hack him down with a flurry of acrobatic strikes. As he turns to face Alana he catches a glowing green bolt in the center of the chest and is thrown backwards from the impact.

Unused to fighting in such close quarters the t'skrang Swordmaster is no match for Foxtouch and he collapses with blood pouring from numerous jagged clawmarks. By the time Krolmar gets to his feet every one of the wolf-slayers is dead or dying and the orks have turned their savage attacks onto Alana's companions. The Illusionist picks off the orks one by one with her magic bolts even as her companions fall back around her.

Krolmar springs forward towards Alana but before he reaches her she sends another bolt flying his way. Just before it hits him Foxtouch dives across in front and takes the blow for him square in the chest.

Alana's orkish companion jumps forward to confront Krolmar but is swept away by a powerful backhand swipe before he can even steady himself. Krolmar advances rapidly even as the enemy turns to flee. The troll gets in Krolmar's way and receives Might's pommel in the small of his back. By the time the troll hits the ground Alana is nowhere in sight.

In less than a minute the peaceful ruins have been turned into carnage. Only half the orks are still standing and even one of those sways precariously as the adrenalin fades. Their enemies fared much worse. Many of them are clearly dead already and most of the others are bleeding badly. The only one unaccounted for is Alana. Krolmar curses quietly under his breath, as he knows she will only return to exact her revenge on both Krolmar and any companions he happens to have with him at the time.

One of the orks bends over Foxtouch and tries to stir her. Her eyes flicker open for a moment and she tries to say something. The ork gets up and hurries over to Krolmar. "She wants to say something to you. You had better hurry -- I know nothing of how to help that magical wound. She worsens rapidly." A pained look clouds the ork's face as he admits his inability to help her. Krolmar stands a little groggily and makes his way over to Foxtouch at her request.

The orkish lady's strength is obviously failing rapidly. "Ask Prag about. . ." She tries to concentrate but starts rambling. "When the tribes splinter, and their enemies press in. . . You are the one. . . With one hand he carries a raised sword, and with the other the blessing of the Passions. . . He is known by his sign, the sign of the wolf." Foxtouch closes her eyes with a peaceful smile on her face.

Krolmar dips his head in silence and respect for Foxtouch and her fallen companions. With the remaining orks Krolmar gathers the fallen and prepares them for the eternal rest. Speaking to Foxtouch's final messenger Krolmar asks, "What was Foxtouch talking about?"

"Sorry, I didn't hear."

"Where did Prag go?"

The ork looks around and finally turns to one of the others. "Rashmar?"

Rashmar realizes that he is now in charge of the part-pack of Stormwolves. He is the oldest of the four, five or ten years older than Krolmar. "Um, it's clan business," he says uncertainly.

Krolmar sits on a broken piece of wall, pulling out his inkpot and notebook he scrawls a message to Prag.

'Prag, Foxtouch mentioned a prophecy. . . What did she mean?
Krolmar
-- Or'mik Jrikko'

Folding the note and sealing it with his own blood Krolmar passes it to Rashmar. "Hand this to Prag."

"I will." After a hesitant start Rashmar tries to take up the leader's role. "Right, get Trekkar and Kash on their feet if you can. Um, what about. . . and. . ."

The ork who examined Foxtouch earlier shakes his head sadly. "Two valiant warriors fell in battle this day."

"We'll, um, we'll take the fallen back to the camp and rest. Tomorrow we rejoin the clan. Leave the unjnorts where they lay. If they die they get all they deserved. If they live they will spread the word that orks are not to be trifled with."

The scarred ork looks at his fellows, "You all fight like true orks. I feel today was a great victory despite our sad loss. Let it be known that Foxtouch died saving myself, for then surely she will not be forgotten. I am afraid that I can not join you, but it appears that the clan has some pressing business, so I bid you farewell, and well fought. You do you pack, clan, and tribe proud." With that Krolmar starts to head towards the encampment of his unjnort companions.

At the sounds of battle Sarn takes his crossbow and loads it with much difficulty. His wounded arm is too weak to pull back the string.

Sole eyes the Archer. "Make sure you don't shoot any orks with that thing. I don't think we could survive another episode like the last."

Sarn sighs. "I know, you mustn't remind me. But perhaps something other than a wild crying ork horde will come around. . ."

"If anything but orks come around it probably means all the orks are dead and then I don't think we would stand much of a chance," Brashak comments.

Several minutes later the orks come back but they are a long way from being a wild ork horde. Five of the orks limp along carrying two bodies between them. They veer away from the camp and Krolmar leaves them to return to his companions.

Krolmar limps back into the camp where his companions lie resting from their wounds. "Well you all missed out on the excitement. Alana tried to kill me, and you too if you where there. If you feel like looting a few bodies then we had best move quickly before we have to deal with more than a few flies," says the Warrior propping himself up with his sword.

"I hope their weapons and armours aren't scattered around anymore," Sarn says. "If the wrong person takes them. . ."

"Alana? Who is that?" Brashak interjects. "And what exactly did you find?"

"Sole, Ash and I were meant to get a flower from the jungle that would of helped save Alana's husband and one of the Aaron's friend's. We retrieved the flower but we got back to late to save either. Alana, seems to think that it is our fault that her husband died. Plus previously when I was adventuring with Ash and Ras'tal we also had a small run in with her as well, but that was more to do with Ash and Ras at that stage."

"She's a pest," Sole adds. "Seems to get her kicks out of making things difficult for Krolmar and I. This wouldn't have been the first time either though I bet all those orks came as a surprise."

"She uses strange magic, some times you are not quite sure it is true magic or just trickery. She also had a few companions, a troll, an ork, and a few dwarves. They were all pretty heavily armoured. Come and have a look. They are dead now. I think Alana underestimated attacking the Stormwolves and myself. We defeated nearly twice our number. Though Alana disappeared I fear that I now truly have an enemy, so any companion of mine will also be in her sights as well. Do you think you can handle that?" asks Krolmar, and quickly continues. "I thought you might. If you all don't mind I would like it if you could also show a little more civility towards the ork clans in this area. Just don't draw your weapons, or show any aggression. Chances are they will be part of the Longtooth tribe which my clan belongs, also the Stormwolves."

"You'll have to deal with any ork we'll meet around here," Sarn responds.

"If orks come charging at me like the last bunch I refuse stand unprepared," Brashak states. "But I'll promise not to strike at any ork unless he strikes at me first."

"That's right!" Sarn agrees.

"Let you be warned then, my first loyalties lie with my tribe and any clan within it," says Krolmar. "Even you must understand that a little Brashak." Brashak shrugs noncommitally.

"Do you have any idea what this Alana was doing here?" Brashak asks.

"Some how Alana found out where Sole, and I were heading and followed us. From what I can tell, to exact her revenge. I feel that is all she had on her mind," replies Krolmar.

Sole thinks for a moment. "I don't think so Krolmar. It is always possible, but I don't think she would have gone to all the effort of getting a group together and traipsing out here just to fight us. She could have done that at almost anytime on the way here. I feel she was after somemthing else, though maybe we were a secondary consideration, if she even knew about us."

"If she was the one who started th rumour that we killed the Stormwolves back at the ruins near the kaer then I wouldn't put it past her," Krolmar replies, though the ork now has some doubts about the fact, thinking back to his recent conversations with Foxtouch and Prag.

"What if she was looking for the same as us?" Sarn considers. "It could be possible. I think we should start to search the tower."

"Yes, let's start searching for the necklace and book. We don't have a lot of time left," suggests the ork. Krolmar pulls out the drawing Hithorn and he drew. Placing them on a flat rock surface he spreads them out. "Remember this is what they look like."

With his arm bandaged Sarn stands up and gathers his stuff together. "Alright, let's move on. I hope we won't get into a serious fight."

Brashak nods in agreement. "No point in waiting any longer. We've all been wounded before and we should be able to deal with it."

The Adepts search the bodies of those killed by the orks. Sarn justifies it to himself by saying that anything left behind might fall into the wrong hands and be used against himself or his companions later. Brashak and Krolmar look for anything useful. Sole simply loots them for everything he can find. They also take all the rations and water which they can find.

Krolmar counts the bodies and realizes that two of them are missing; the troll which he knocked down at the end and one of the dwarven women. There is a wide variety of items on the bodies, everything from weapons and armour to herbs, books, lanterns, and musical instruments. Brashak inspects the t'skrang's sword and finds that it has been forged to improve the blade, while Sarn uses his knowledge of alchemy to identify the herbs and potions. The Vorst breaks everything which nobody wants to take. He smashes the bucklers, tears the armour, and breaks the swords with the axe. Finally he scatters the pieces around in the ruins and buries them under piles of rubble.

Sole finishes searching the bodies after finding nothing imediately useful. "I think we should start searching straight away. The less time we spend here the better."

"Yes. Let's move on," Sarn says after he is finished with the corpses. The last step is to insure they are really dead by slitting their throats. The Vorst are reknowned for their thoroughness in ensuring that their enemies are dead, and Sarn is no exception. He smashes their skulls open with the battleaxe before he is satisfied.

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