The blue shade approached slower now, listening to the questions and comments.
"Gharakuh, we just battled undead minions .. do you know their source?"
"Me haps Angus would like to ask of spells. I meant rather to say that I and Anug wondered if the unyielding one had any knowledge of cache of spellbooks?"
"This is unexpected. I suppose we ought to have asked about Exidamarall before."
Gharakuh's stare was impassive, merely responding to each question with enough attention to acknowledge the speaker, although it lingered with Aila for just a moment longer. But then returned to the face the orcs.
He stepped past Petar and Oswyn, and into the middle of the group. There he addressed the leader of the orc warband. The words you hear in your ears are clearly orcish, although there is a quality about them that is 'off' from what you feel you've heard before.
But the words you hear in your mind are clearly [western common/forest elven/rock dwarven]. The meaning is clear as he speaks.
"I was known as Gharakuh The Unyielding. My life ended centuries ago, in a war brought about by greed and hate, by men who only wanted to satisfy their own ambitions, all others be damned. I was Chief of Chiefs, War Chief, Arbiter, and Speaker. I was charged with guarding the offspring, and safekeeping the old. I did well for years, for my time, with the warriors I had, but in the end, I was caught, ambushed, unprepared, and lost. So here I am, never having fulfilled my oath. An oath I cannot now ever keep.
Are you the chief warrior here?"
The orc leader paused, speechless and in awe, before this apparition. Finally, he recovered and gathered himself. Planting the haft of his spear firmly on the ground, he stood stoically upright, facing the being before him.
[Language unknown: "I ca eveovecom n we are. P e undnotain Poatlo. Ou urstr e thi hatpl ectdayhasich nt on the. Ol taeslafi een ha houredhat, ishepl ecsan paisad le tioareher ll lo somonsoun wilnc ngbeie. Le ugh iseiri ioueenthe iv siti, Seaiutun to Strardprehatant, was E aiacusnt der usinme beieie thi titriv. U ncstlichtr virichdin un ughthaone al ard, ritholta ar ofweom toprle, arecla llesos ie areanypro, steiei olany ol urestrtin o res patoai thng entace niprar. Ch ulinis ter lltoca hasst acpl terwasenc ulthmetost.
Ndro pl ss traol ous? Ugh set his ticsonica ek arkor ich? Ti not hou rea lonaetfi i beonmi?"]
Gharakuh turned to Petar, then to Aila.
"I am here because I was awakened."
His attention wandered around those present, meeting the eyes of the original group that stepped into his grave. His expression was one of evaluation, measuring the qualities of each soul present here with him. It was hard to tell what he was expecting, or thinking for that matter.
"I am here now because ... I need to find ... "
The shade hesitated. It seemed it was struggling to find words. Or perhaps remembrances.
It walked further onwards, towards the second fire, the party's camp. Mysh and Lland both tensed at his approach, raising their weapons and shields. But he passed by them. Olagh stood rooted to his spot. You could not tell if he was scared to death or utterly captivated by this visitor.
"I see you still travel with these two? Have you not learned anything yet?"
Sowen turned to meet Olagh's eyes. Olagh only shook his head. They both stepped back from the shade.
"What do you want? You have no power here. This group is under my protection, and the protection of Chiress."
Camille's voice broke through the night with a stern warning. She had brought up her mace and was holding her shield defensively before her.
Gharakuh paused for a moment as he examined the shattered remains of the skeletons who had just a few moments ago accosted the party. He looked in Camille's direction, but his gaze seemed to almost pass through her, as though he could barely perceive her at all.
Then he returned his attention to the broken bones before him. Then, without warning, he rushed ahead to the spot of the greater conflict, passing everyone around him, and picked a skull off the ground. He held it high before him, turning it around with his hands.
"After all this time..."
He turned around without hesitation, and strode back to the party's campfire. There he gestured everyone to him.
"See this mark? This is the sign of the necromancers. This... is the sigil of Exidamarall."
He turned the skull around for everyone to see.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:26, Mon 08 Feb 2021.