DM Notation: I am starting this up, to get caught up with the current story in the Broken Lands. I do not have recent game session outlines, and no quotes to go with them. I am far enough behind that restarting writing is becoming a problem. I’m hoping that starting from a current point in time will renew my desire to finish the back story, and fill them in.
I hope you enjoy,
GW
The Orcs in the Wyvern Warband are:
Gorga, a young Orc who has been training with the scouts and hunters of the tribe. His wilderness knowledge and skills mark him well as a future leader within the tribe, if he can survive the rivalries he will engender in the tribe.
Gaak half brother to Iirkh, is a full-blooded Ogre who actually has the intelligence and wisdom to be a force to reckon with in the tribe. He has been training hard as a fighter with a specific goal in mind.
Tuukar tracker and hunter with the Vile Runes tribe, set out to join up with the Wyverns to increase his standing and glory in the horde.
NPC's
Nachip was an initiate shaman in the Vile Runes tribe. The Wyverns recruited him, on a stop at the tribe, and he has called upon the spirits to the benefits of the Wyverns.
Grall is a Gnoll from east of the kobold lands, he offered service, after hearing tales of power and conquest at the knee of the Battle Drummer Drigka
Haggrekk is a Bugbear hired on by the warband, after watching him fight in the pits at the Sacred Caverns. He won, barely, but with a certain viciousness that was appreciated by the warband
The warband has decided to travel into Troll lands, to retrieve the sword called “OgreBreaker”. Gaak does not want such a weapon of legendary name to fall into the hands of anyone who might come hunting for him. Better to keep such a weapon close than have it come hunting from afar. Gorga still leads this warband, but with the members of the warband proving to be powerful in their own ways, the warband acts more as a Council of elders at times, with Gorga as the ChairOrc heading it. The warband is comprised of: Gorga, Gaak, Tuukar, Darkhunt, Nachip, Grall, and Haggrekk. There are also 5 Hobgoblins pressed into service through the convincing of Tuukar, and about 20 Obsidian Orcs from the lands of Orcus Rex led by Gorga, are met here. Others have come and gone from the warband, but these few continue toward the goal of one day ruling the Broken Lands, and with that power, lands beyond.
Troll Stomping Fun, Oh Yeah – 28-Apr-2006
The Wyvern’s are traveling North by Northwest along an old caravan road, linking the lands of Darokin to the South, and the Principalities of Glantri to the North. The caravan route is often the site of humanoid ambushes, and only the bravest and best defended caravans attempt to traverse the Broken Lands in search of profit. The route skirts the Eastern edge of a large swampy valley in the heart of Troll territory. Surrounding the valley are mountains and rolling hills, which give it more of a festering wound appearance from a birds-eye view. In the Mountains South of the valley, the Wyverns make their way cautiously along the dirty and rocky path. Near the time of High sun, the warband hears the sounds of battle over a hill near the caravan route. Looking for a chance at combat, they move quickly and silently to investigate. Peering through the scrub trees and bushes, Gorga and Darkhunt see a Huge Chimera that is having trouble with his lunch. It is trying to eat 3 trolls, and while eating one, another gets up to attack, and continue the fight. Gorga gathers the warband, and the group of Hobgoblin fighters led by Tuukar.
Using skills honed in the crucible of battle, Gorga directs the warband to best place them, in the outcome that both sides in the battle will need to be fought. Gaak and Haggrekk will sneak around to the North of the Chimera. The hobgoblins, Tuukar, Grall and Nachip will wait at the SE edge of the clearing, all except Nachip waiting to fill either combatant with arrows. Gorga and Darkhunt will approach the fight for parley, to see which side would like help in the battle. Things almost unfold in their intended manner. The goat head sees Gaak and Haggrekk and the Dragon head bites and holds a troll, while watching as Gorga and Darkhunt approach. The troll is not quite dead, and is fighting to be released from the dragon maw. Grall is anxious to attack, and Gorga waves him off for a bit. Gaak gets to the North of the Chimera, and cuts up one of the trolls that was trying to crawl away. A cave is down a short path beyond the Chimera, but it looks too small to have been a home to this huge creature.
Calling out in Draconic, Gorga puts some humility in his voice
“Oh great Dragon, may we assist you in your fight with the nasty trolls, and help you to heal? I see the fight has gone long and you are injured.”
The Chimera stares with two baleful eyes at Gorga. The goat head is carefully watching the progress of Gaak and Haggrekk, while the lion head peers cautiously around for any other intrusions. With no response from the Chimera, Gorga decides to attack. What Gorga failed to recognize, was that the Chimera was playing with his food. The Chimera was waiting, and disgorges his flaming breath, charring the troll in his mouth. Gorga and Darkhunt are able to avoid most of the fire, but are both burned as they charge. Darkhunt bites deeply, but is unable to trip the huge creature, and Gorga slashes with his Bastard sword as they ride by. Deepening the injuries already suffered at the hands of the trolls. (1)
Not sure who is the real enemy, Grall shoots a troll in the back of the head with his new composite longbow, presented courtesy of Tuukar. The hobgoblins all miss, and Tuukar hits the Chimera with a few arrows. “No Grall, shoot the big dragon.”
Feeling sufficiently injured, the Chimera attempts to leap into flight, to flee the new battle. Gorga and Darkhunt charge back through injuring the creature yet again, laughing and whooping at the death they can both smell. A few sweeps of his powerful wings, and the creature is airborne, only to be brought down shortly by the arrows of Tuukar, and the final arrow of Grall, who claims the kill as his own. In his simple mind his arrow killed the creature. The Trolls are dispatched and burned as their bodies attempt to regrow lost body parts, and the troll cave found. No Troll cave is complete, without everything being dung-covered.
The warband finds some baskets and bags full of:
Banded Mail (sized medium)
dagger (sized small), given to Nachip
15 rings of varying values
2l copper, 3444 silver, 400 gold.
A wand
A rod
A couple rings, the armor, dagger, wand, and rod, all are magical according to Nachip and his spirit-given magic detection spell.
Easy pickings it turned out. None were identified before curing the Chimera meat, collecting spell components for sale, and moving on.
After another Boar (2) on the caravan route, with Tuukar scouting ahead, he hears the cries of battle. Some 200 knucks (3) ahead, a large number, nearly 100 dead orcs surround a couple of dead horses, and a Human wizard at the side of his fallen comrade. Arrows bounce off of some form of magic field around him. Tuukar mentions back to Gorga.
“Gorga, hold, wizard battle ahead.”
Tuukar sneaks, and hides quite handily around the battle, counting nearly 20 Orcs left alive in the conflict. The wizard calls out for healing magic, or he will lay waste to the rest of the Orcs. He gets the expected response, when arrows bounce off his magical barrier. He seems to talk with something nearby, and Tuukar can tell there is some form of invisible creature with the wizard as well. While Tuukar is sneaking behind the Wizard, a couple fireballs go off, and he changes wands to a lightning wand, injuring more of the Orcs. Then another call for magical healing, and the wizard takes out a scroll, reads it, while touching his fallen friend, and promptly disappears.
Tuukar calls up Gorga and the warband. They meet up with some Orcs from Orcus Rex, a land up North, their leader has been killed. They have heard of the Wyverns, and agree to follow them. As fame and treasure seem to surely follow any who join the Wyverns.
The bodies of the nearly 5 score Orcs are brought to the West side of the road, past an embankment, and left for the scavengers. Their bodies are looted by the remaining Orcs of the small tribe. Camp is made, and 4 injured Orcs healed, and healed more through the night by Nachip. The highest ranking remaining Orc tells of a visit to the Troll Temple, and some of the security measures around it.
Using the most powerful title he thinks is possible, the Orc begins.
“War leader Gorga. Our old tribe leader got a message from the Trolls. It was a scroll closed with a black wax seal with a picture of some chicken-headed thing. He saw no harm in opening it. It was written by trolls, but in Orcish. I read it to Dramger.
“Come to the Temple of Afnar and have no fear, you will not be attacked. Bring as many of your Orcs as you like, but come soon. As a token of our good will, please accept this gift.”
There was a map showing the caravan route South, and the road into the swamp to the Temple. Dramger thought about it for a few days, and decided to take a chance. There was bunches of trolls heading South, and they was glad to help us find our way. We walked right up to this temple. Quite a big thing of earth and stone. Dramger went in, and when he come out, we all left, quick, but we turned South instead of North, and met them wizards.” (4)
Gorga formulates a plan to attack the temple in the swamp, with poor avenues of attack, the main path up to it, is decided upon. The Orc and hobgoblin archers will follow up and target an area for anything in it. (5) The warband will approach while Gorga attempts to feign a parley to see the temple. Storm clouds can be seen gathering overhead, filled with flickers of lightning, and a swirling that seems to be centered over the temple.
It works mostly, but the Troll guards, become suspicious of the small army of Orcs approaching up the road. After a shouting match between a Troll guard, and Gorga, who will not halt his warriors, Gorga, mounted on Darkhunt, charges into battle. Between the two of them, the Troll is badly injured, and tripped to the ground, by the large Worg as she charges past. Nachip sees the potential for trouble, and calls upon his spirits for a spell to enlarge Gaak, allowing him to grow to a huge size. The slaughter commences. Tuukar snipes his arrows in from a distance, dealing heavy damage. Gaak Cleaves through Trolls with his Huge flaming greataxe, Darkhunt mauls and trips up trolls, as Gorga slashes with his Magic flaming Scimitar trophy from the Druid. The Orcs and Hobgoblins do some damage with a rain of arrows. Only one Troll out of 8 escapes into the temple, and Gorga calls for the Orcs and Hobgoblins to rush forward to stoke up the fires left in the guard houses. Gaak looks around at the chopped up hunks of troll, trying to regenerate, and says. "Burn the Trash"
Notes
(1) I made 2 mistakes here. The first of which was allowing the charge to happen as it did. Looked up the rules on ride-by-attack. The second was allowing Gorga/Darkhunt to get the first attack, before the Chimera moved. He had a readied action that went off before Gorga/Darkhunt were able to complete their charge. That put him just ahead in the initiative order. Not as if he wouldn't have been brought down, but he had a greater chance of escaping at least, or finding better targets for his attacks closer to the edge of the clearing.) Mounted Combat Links on Wizards
(2) Boar – Measure of time it takes to skin a boar, about one hour. Spits are also used as a measure of time. A boar on a spit is turned over a fire 6 times in about a minute. So a spit is ten seconds.
(3) Knucks are equivalent to feet, Ogre Knuckles as a unit of measure
(4) Paraphrased from the Temple of the Troll God, by Fast Forward Entertainment.
(5) The Orcs and Hobgoblins are using a rule from the Hero’s of Battle book from Wizards. They target a 5 foot square and do a certain amount of damage, minus a reflex save. This kept us from rolling d20 for each of the Orcs and Hobgoblins
Next Up: Wakey, Wakey, Trolls and Bakey – 12 and 26-May-2006
With all the Troll guards dead and being burned by the Orcs, or having fled to raise the alarm, the warband is able to walk right up to the huge solid rock and earth structure. It looks as if it was carved from a small mountainous outcropping of rock here in the swamp. Up higher on the Temple, large arrow slits can be seen. None seem to be manned, or trolled for that matter. The main doors are fashioned from enormous planks cut from a twisted swamp oak, all banded together with thick iron straps. Enormous branches still grow from the wood here and there, as the wood refuses to die. (1) The doors are nearly 8 knucks wide and 15 knucks tall each. (2)
Gaak, using his enchanted greataxe, chops his way through the steel-banded swamp oaks, in little more than 2 spits. (3) The greataxe was purchased at great expense from a greasy little orc at the Sacred Caverns. But what is the price of chopping your enemies open with the added ease of an enchanted axe blade?
The warband is met at the door by 2 guards, and a large temple full of trolls, black candles flickering in candleholders around the grand hall give the room a disturbing array of shadows. Most of the Trolls are in a trance, rocking back and forth, and praying to their god. The priests are in a trance of some sort as well, leading the prayer to the image of their god, dug into the North wall of the room. In addition to the chanting of the trolls, drums can be heard, and much shouting, and fighting coming from nearby rooms.
Tuukar signals Saar to fly around and scout the area. The great eagle leaves perch on a nearby tree to follow the commands.
Grall steps up and injures a troll guard, with a crushing pair of blows from his heavy flail, and is quickly slashed by both guards for his trouble. Gaak levels a troll, chopping through him into the next troll guard. Tuukar manages to shoot a few arrows into a troll for significant damage.
Quickly Gorga determines that with Gaak fighting in the doorway, and Troll bodies falling to block entry that someone needs to start dragging the bodies out to be burned on the bonfire. The Orc and Hobgoblin troops have started up a large fire between the guard posts. At the direction of Gorga and Tuukar, their followers have begun dismantling the guard posts for fueling the fire. . Gorga gives orders to Grall and Haggrekk to keep trolls from getting back up to reengage the warband.
You, Grall and Haggrekk, drag bodies and parts back to the fire to be burned, we will keep hacking them down.
Some of the bodies are still struggling to grow back together. With them out of the way, Gorga sees that the majority of the trolls are in a trance and take no notice of the chopped-in doors, and warband outside. One of the priests begins to come out of his self-induced fog, and sees the invasion to the temple. He begins to exhort the followers to rise up and defend the Grand Hall of Afnar.
Gorga, the only Worg Champion of the Blood Orcs lands, rides his Worg companion in to attack one of the guards, further in the main hall. Nachip calls upon a spirit of predators to instill Gaak with the grace of a cat. Gaak wades into the crowd of Trolls, swinging his axe like a scythe at the Trolls who seem aware of what is going on. A random hit on one that is still entranced, helps bring it around, and into the fight. Darkhunt and Gorga team up to badly injure a troll petitioner, and trip it to the ground. When it tries to get up, Gaak still enlarged and graceful is able to send it back to the ground in pieces. While back at the tribe he gained some training in making attacks when the opportunity arises in combat, and is reaping a payoff in trolls.
Throughout the battle trolls come out of their trance to engage the warband, who have evolved into efficient killing machines. Gorga and Darkhunt team up to injure trolls, and take them to the ground, while Gaak cleaves through troll after troll, as they attempt to move up to engage him. The few, who make it through, do not stand long against the huge flaming greataxe swung by the Ogre. Grall and Haggrekk carry bodies and parts out to the waiting Orcs and Hobgoblins, and their growing bonfire. Trolls parts are burned thoroughly to ensure the inability to regenerate. Nachip, unable to take part directly in battle, spends time healing Gaak of his most painful wounds.
Late in the battle, a priest escapes out one of the archways to the right side. It brings reinforcements in the form of 3 more priests, but most are soon killed, even after casting Doom, and holding Gorga motionless with the fell power of their god. Gorga is able to shake it off, and the same spell cast by the other priests is unable to overcome his will. The remaining priest flees out the far end of the room.
In a room off of the main hall, a group of quarreling trolls break off the fight to join their brethren in battle. These few do not stand long against the combined might of the Wyverns. Soon the warband drags out the rest of the bodies, and begins searching the grand hall, and the nearby chambers.
In a few short minutes, the room is cleared of all troll pieces, and the bonfire gives off the stench of cooking troll meat. The sounds of drums and shouting can be heard from a room farther on into the temple. Shrinking down to normal size, Gaak can feel the magical enhancements slowly fading after the battle. The warband and some of the Obsidian Orcs begin searching and securing the Grand Hall. Another victory for the Wyverns can now be counted. All totaled: 15 Trolls, 4 Troll priests, 5 Troll guards.
The main hall is quite large, nearly 60 knucks, by 130 knucks in size. Four archways lead to other areas of the main floor. Candles still flicker and burn around the room, and the image of Afnar carved into the North wall, stares balefully at everyone in the room. Investigating the sounds of Drumming and shouting coming from the Northwest archway, an Obsidian Orc sees eight trolls, and some kind of large winged-troll. A couple of them are pounding on drums made of skulls, bones, and skin. The rest seem to be playing some kind of game. Stepping quietly back, he rushes to tell Gorga of his discovery.
Notes
(1) Paraphrased from the Temple of the Troll God, by Fast Forward Entertainment.
(2) Knucks are equivalent to feet, Ogre Knuckles as a unit of measure
(3) Spit –Spits are used as a measure of time. A boar on a spit is turned over a fire 6 times in about a minute. So a spit is ten seconds.
Next Up: On the Life of Grr - courtesy of fitz
I do not remember what my kind call me any longer, but I do remember the day of my passage to manhood. Eight of us stood there waiting for our chief and his advisor to ascend and tell us our task. Slowly the chief's headdress could be seen rising from the valley towards the bonfire, spiritual advisor at his side.
Excellent, I see all the younglings are ready, let the festivities begin. shouts the chieftain.
With that, food and liquor are consumed in mass quantities. As the first stars begin to twinkle in the sky the shaman suddenly turns ice cold for many moments.
It is time! shouts the shaman and he begins to dancing around the fire throwing in herbs of all sorts and chanting very loudly.
Smoke begins to fill the sky such that both the setting suns and rising stars are completely blocked from view. The shaman continues to chant for what feels like an eternity, the reality of what is coming beginning to settle in, soon we would be men.
The old grizzly! shouts out the shaman.
The roar of the crowd is intense, everyone knows what this means, when we return we would be revered within the tribe, the females of our choice. The spirits this day had truly blessed us. Quickly we all grabbed our spears and morningstars, packed our bags, and finished up any last details.
That night we set out, our singular purpose driving all of us to our goal; the Grizzly. As we got further from the camp and deeper into the forest, the creatures of the forest began announcing to each other our presence as we crashed through the dense foliage. As the adrenaline of our trials began to creep out of our systems, the need for sleep became more pressing.
Let us make camp in this small clearing; we'll setup guards of 2 in 2 hour shifts, said one whom I do not remember.
The night passed uneventfully, the next morning we continued our search for the old grizzly. It would take several days before we would finally find that old bear, what followed was a slaughter, that old bear fought as if the spirits of the forest fueled her on, One by one we began to drop, but with each one that dropped the wounds in her side became more and more grievous.
The battle raged on until the only two surviving where myself and the old grizzly, exhaustion was settling into every one of my bones and I could barely keep my weapons up to defend myself if she were to attack, but as I looked across the field to my opponent I could see the pain of the wounds she had taken were also beginning to take it’s toll. If I could just muster enough strength for one last charge I would bring her down and be a men of men in my tribe.
Slowly I drew in every ounce of strength I had left, I looked up at my opponent again preparing to charge in and smash its skull. As I gazed at the grizzly bear and watched her preparing to defend herself one last time I raised my morningstar let out a scream and ...
WHAM, out of nowhere she leapt, slamming me to the ground and knocking the last breath of life out of me.
Slowly the darkness left my head, I could feel the cold stone against my fast, but how could this be? I had seen her leap and kill me, but there was no denying the stone either. As I opened first one then another eye I could see the black and white outlines of two bear cubs licking their wounded mother. But something was very different with my surrounding, I could see shadows of creatures and plants and everything else imaginable shifting in and out of my vision and creepier still, they appeared to be talking. What was this, who were all these silhouettes, panic was setting in, fear overwhelming everything I knew.
Greetings hobgoblin, I am Baknir and what you are seeing is the spirit world.
The spirit world, that was a place only shamans dared venture, and I was no shaman.
Why can I see you, why am I alive, where am I? I furiously screamed, trying to make sense of it.
You have been awakened, probably the trauma of your last fight. said Baknir.
Finally I was beginning to get some focus, and I began to realize Baknir was a spirit that seemed tied to the old grizzly.
I will be your guide and mentor as you learn the ways of spirits, but it comes with a cost, the old mother has taken many grievous wounds and her cubs will need tending to and care, you must help them or this forest will have to endure a change in it’s balance as these are the last of their kind here.
So you grace me with this ‘gift’ in exchange for slavery? I challenged.
I offer you no ‘gift’ as you would call it, but without guidance the spirits will devour you and leave you nothing but a shell. If you wish not my help, then I will ask none of you.
With that the spirit turned and went away from me. As I watched, I could see the spirits moving in my direction, but then all of them vanished, all I could feel was my body being assaulted, all of my senses collapsing around me.
Fine! I screamed, I will help in exchange for your help.
Nothing, everything was going black again, I couldn’t even feel my nose.
More time passed, how much I will never know, but when I awoke the sun was barely lighting the cave entrance and the cubs where both curled up against their now dead mother.
Remember this young one, spirits are not forgiving nor do they have the same sense of morals that you and your kind might or might not have. I agree to help you and you agree to help me, let it be well understood.
I understand was my only response.
Many seasons passed, I kept my end of the bargain and in return I was taught how to deal with the duality of existence between my world and Baknir’s. During this time I would gain the attention of a few spirits including the spirit of my grandmother. Through her I would learn some basic healing gifts that would help to keep the cubs and myself healthy against the perils of life.
Another spirit that I would capture the attention of was that of a treant who was cut down in his prime. Knuck as he called himself was very prideful and often hard to negotiate with, but through him I was granted strength beyond any measure. He would often demand in return that I would attack those who would harm the forest, but I never really had a problem with this.
Crackle, the last of my current spirit companions, showed just as the last embers of a campfire set by some foolish humans was burning out. The humans made for an excellent dinner that night, and despite his fiery temper Crackle has made for a constant companion since then.
Eventually the bears grew to full size, and I had completed my obligation to Baknir, but in the time we had been together our relationship had shifted from an agreement to a true friendship. So even after they left to go out and continue the circle of life, Baknir, Crackle, Ma’In’Gor, Knuck and myself continued to work to keep the forest safe from intruders.
One night all of us could sense something very dangerous and powerful had entered the forest. As we set out to investigate, even the spirits seems to be uneasy at what was out there. Before I even knew what happened all was dark again.
Grr! Wake up! screamed Baknir.
The pounding in my head was horrible, and Baknir’s screaming wasn’t helping. I could again feel cold stone pressed against my cheek. As I worked to regain some consciousness I opened my eyes just a crack and could several feet, the bodies attached seemed to be trolls of some sort. Screams of pain could be heard occasionally as well.
The spirits of this place are tainted Baknir whispered,
I sense a powerful and ancient influence is somehow involved.
What would you have me do? I asked somewhat rhetorically as I could also feel the shackles around both my arms and legs.
Wait for now, there is another nearby who commands much attention from the spirits as well, I sense he will be here shortly.
And so for now, we wait.
Next Up: Trolls with a Vacuum? – June-ish-2006
Wingz could hardly believe it; he was having fun with the troll game, Gummy. It is a contest where you see how many swamp maggots you can hold in your mouth without swallowing. Grinning and chewing his tasty losses Wingz considered his fate. The son of a temple priestess, and something else, he was afforded special treatment from the time of his birth. It was often difficult to fit in with the Trolls and guards, the former scared of him, and the latter resistant to his orders. In the next few years, Wingz would fully explore his “other” powers and take a more forceful role in the running of the temple. His reverie is disturbed when 3 arrows come flying in through the main hall archway, injuring a troll, causing it to spit out maggots in a yelp of pain.
Acting quickly, if not instinctively, Wingz calls upon his ability to summon an area of magical darkness, placing it between the attacker and his trolls. Immediately he gives orders to the other trolls.
“You, you, and you, that way, go around behind the hall and attack from that side.”
The trolls hurry in the direction indicated, and Wingz moves on to the next three. The Half-Fiend points to three more trolls, and then up the hallway “You, you, and you, that way, up the hall, attack from there.”
To the last two guards he orders, “You and you, stay with me, we attack from here.”
Moving to the edge of the darkness, Wingz smacks the winner of Gummy, and points into the darkness, “You go through and kill them.” The troll grins through a mouthful of maggots and heads straight through the darkness.
As Wingz suspected, the wet sounds of Axes chopping into troll flesh is heard from beyond in the great hall. The doorway here is too narrow, and a troll would be an easy target for the well-disciplined soldiers on the other side. Yes Wingz could tell, when the arrows came through, meant to draw the trolls into filing through that doorway, he knew instinctively. Thank the fiendish father. Moving to take care of the problem, Wingz enters the darkness, and easily finds the doorway.
With his fiendishly enhanced strength, reaching out and ripping part of the wall away, is a small matter. He can only imagine the reaction to his massive arms reaching out of the darkness to rip away part of the archway. He chuckles to himself, and continues his work.
With trolls on the way to flank the enemy, and the archway opened up to allow passage, Wingz sends the remaining troll through to draw any attacks that might be waiting, and quickly follows through the archway.
As he suspected, his Troll decoy did not last long under the chopping blade of a large flaming greataxe, a flaming scimitar, muscle and sinew-powered arrows, and the snapping jaws of a large Worg.
A quick survey of the room brings several images to mind. The first and closest, is the Ogre. It is about ten knucks (1) high, with a large greataxe glistening with the fluids of fallen enemies, and flames licking the edges, wearing a chain shirt, and bristling with other weapons. The next is a combination, a rather large Worg, nearly six knucks at the shoulder, with red eyes, and Black coat, dusted with Grey; and an Orc with a commanding presence. The Orc is from the Blood Orcs lands, red-haired and wild-looking, wielding a scimitar with flames licking the edges, and a chain shirt as well. If the Ogre was bristling with weapons, the Orc was fairly bursting with them, although the majestic-looking cloak covered some of it, easily a longbow, two quivers, a bastard sword, a halberd, Flail, Glaive, not to mention the backpack, and large sack strapped to the Worg. Further on, the Half-fiend can see an Orc who appears born to the bow and the hunt, with strapping arms, and a bow that looks as if only he could bend it to his will. A large Gnoll, and Bugbear are waiting at the archway that two of the Trolls were sent to, and Orcs and Hobgoblins watching the others. As the smell of burning troll reaches his nose, the realization hits that these are not ordinary Orcs.
Moving in to confront the Ogre, a battle cry flies from his maggot-crusted lips “I will kill…” and the rest of his words are chopped from his throat, as the Ogre’s greataxe bites deep. Grinning, Wingz is able to scrape at the Ogre with one claw, but does not have enough time to really tear into him. Then the Ogre unleashes two powerful chopping blows that nearly cleave him in two, the Worg steps up, and bites through his lower leg, while the Scimitar wielding Orc unleashes two slashes from his flaming sword. None burn his otherworldly skin, but the Worg backs off with part of his foot, slashing and rending at the Ogre does little good, the Ogre can withstand more punishment that he can dish out.
He cries out plaintively in his head, “Father, Fiends, anyone, help me, I will not survive this battle.” He unexpectedly gets a response, as the Orcs methodically hack his body into many small pieces. “Fool!! You should have prepared for battle, rather than playing silly Troll games. You are not my son.!” Laughter echoes in what passes for his mind after the ill treatment by the Orcs. His body freakishly tries pulling back together, dropping overly damaged parts, and trying to grow new ones. He can’t hear what the Orcs are saying, but he knows they are having trouble killing him and overcoming his fiendish resistance to fire. Then, they allow part of him to re-grow, the head, mouth, and upper body. He tries to speak, but a large mouthful of mud is shoved in, then more, and more. His body is dragged out to a large pit being dug. He can hear now.
“We can bury him deep enough, he may suffocate, or at least will not be able to dig out while we are here.”
The Worg riding Orc walks, up and nods.
“Bury it then.”
Wingz begins to struggle, and calls out in his mind again.
“Father, help me, I will do anything.” There is no answer. As his body is tossed into the hole, and more mud and dirt filled in on top, limbs are scattered about, and buried as well. Totally encased in packed earth, Wingz body slowly grows back together, but will he be able to dig out before he suffocates?(3)
“Father! Anyone!...Anything!”
Something, not his father, awakens in his mind, and he can somehow feel a malign grin directed at him.
“Did you mean it? Anything?”
--------------------
Tuukar walks away from the living burial, and reports to Gorga.
“If that does not kill it, at least we can be done here and gone by the time it is out.”
Gorga nods and directs the Orcs to continue burning Troll parts, and to guard the area from attacks out of the swamp.
The warband moves back into the main hall, and finishes searching here and the Troll game room. Without much more than candles and the Troll drums to find, the warband quickly searches the priests now-empty areas. Extra purple robes and candles are found, some tables with bowls carved into them, and a red granite table in a room filled with burning candles. Images of the Troll’s foul god are painted and engraved all around.
A torture chamber of sorts is found, and Gaak takes an interest. Cruel metal razors and spikes hang by rusty chains along all the walls. The floor and walls are stained dark with blood. Manacles and other chains lie on the floor. An image of Afnar is carved into the ceiling, “watching” the room, and whatever tortures the trolls can devise. A nearby room reeks of rotting meat, with piles of bones and skulls in various stages of decay. (2) Nachip can feel some of the echoes of tortured spirits here.
Tuukar scouts ahead, and finds an area, where strange bales of hay cover the north wall, stacked from floor to ceiling. Vats of dark liquid are nearby, and racks on the stone block wall hold hundreds of drying black candles, each pair still connected at the wick and hanging over a thin bone dowel. (2) The two trolls here spinning the bales of humanoid hair into wicks, are quickly dismembered, and carried out to the Orcs for burning.
Tuukar’s next discovery nearly has him retching on the spot. His intestinal fortitude has taken a downturn since Gaak has taken to feeding him entrails. A large area behind the main hall is filled with the gruesome work of four Troll priests. Hundreds of black candles illuminate a bizarre butcher’s nightmare. Troll priests fashion a sculpture of their god Afnar, with his rooster’s head and body and snake legs, using hunks of still-bloody flesh drawn out of slop buckets. With needle and thread, they stitch the new hunks in place over the older, rotting pieces. (2) The trolls are so intent upon their work that they do not take notice of the warband, as it moves into the room, and quickly kills them all. Their grisly work will not be completed this day, and never by these trolls. Grall and Haggrekk transport the troll remains out to the Orcs for burning. None are willing to touch the inert pile of flesh the trolls were working on.
There are two doors in this area, and Gaak, yanks one open. A torch in the room beyond the door, lights up the area and thousands of nails embedded in the floor, walls, and ceiling. Irregularly fashioned and set into the stone, the nails look almost like steel weeds, jutting this direction and that, all different lengths and thicknesses. After a moment the room begins to vibrate. (2) With a scream of sucking air, Gaak, and Grall are dragged into the room, and pulled across jutting nails. Grall is flung around the room, while Gaak manages to grab the doorway, and pull himself back out. A rope is tossed in for Grall to grab hold of, and he is quickly pulled out of the vacuum. The warband laughs at Grall and Gaak and their misfortune, and both the Gnoll and Ogre leave it to Tuukar to check the next door. “Did they use that for punishment? Or Reward?”
Notes
(1) Knucks are equivalent to feet, Ogre Knuckles as a unit of measure
(2) Paraphrased from the Temple of the Troll God, by Fast Forward Entertainment.
(3) The warband did not have enough acid, or fire to overcome the damage reduction, and energy resistance of a Half-Fiend Troll. They could do enormous amounts of damage to it, but almost all was subdual damage. Normal fire does not do enough, and weapons did not have a high enough fire damage output, to overcome: Resistance to acid 10, cold 10, electricity 10, and fire 10 and Damage reduction: 5/magic (if HD 11 or less) or 10/magic (if HD 12 or more). Tuukar’s player came up with suffocation, which I don’t think counts for Trolls. I allowed them to pulverize the troll, and bury it, without ruling on suffocation for the session. I came up with a way out, because the Warband has a god of sorts angry at them for pillaging one of his temples.
Next Up: Tuukar Scouts ahead, and Curses – 21-Jul-2006
Let me know if you have any questions. I hope you enjoy.
GW
If a moderator or admin sees this, would you please change the title of the thread to "Broken Lands Act II, Orcs on a Mission" So that the updated old date is not there forever?
Thank you,
GW
Ok, normally I would update the Title of the Thread, with the last updated Date. It seems with the new boards, that you can not change your own Thread title.
If a moderator or admin sees this, would you please change the title of the thread to "Broken Lands Act II, Orcs on a Mission" So that the updated old date is not there forever?
Thank you,
GW
unfortunately it might just be easier to start a new thread with the title you want and then point to this existing thread within it maybe ... ?
unfortunately it might just be easier to start a new thread with the title you want and then point to this existing thread within it maybe ... ?
I sent a PM to a moderator I saw listed at the bottom of these forums, WizO_Sith, and had the title updated. I'll just update the thread now, and not change the title, and let the board dates handle that part for me.
Thank you,
GW
I sent a PM to a moderator I saw listed at the bottom of these forums, WizO_Sith, and had the title updated. I'll just update the thread now, and not change the title, and let the board dates handle that part for me.
Thank you,
GW
nice to hear GW
GW
I will be returning slowly over the next few months. After a difficult battle with Cancer my wife passed away on the 24th of December. I miss playing D&D and writing about our sessions, once I settle into single parenthood, and get some babysitters lined up I'll be able to play again. My wife wanted me to, and I'll need the time away. She told me before she died, that she would like me to get my ring engraved with. "Fought the battle with me - Love your Warrior" She told me it could have a double meaning, both that I stood by her, and took care of her through her fight with Cancer, and a reminder of the D&D session that she gave me input into. That one has yet to be written up, but I look forward to it.
GW
Oh no ...
My heart goes out to you, Greywolf. I suffered through the same ordeal, though in my case, my wife made a full recovery (No consolation to you, I know).
Just so that you know, there are people who have been there, and there are people who care. At least you and your wife have had your time together, and I hope that she didn't suffer on her journey.
Blessed be, my friend, blessed be.
I always like to come here to this forum to get me thinking D&D and Mystara again. Thanks to all of you who keep it going here.
GW
I hope you get going again and good luck with the kids. I don't know what I would do in your shoes. I hope I would be as strong as you are to even come here.