Urzag the Vile sent out the call for as many tribes of orcs and monsterous humanoids to gather to bring death and destruction to the weak people of the civilized lands. Although many answered, it was with the knowledge that Urzag must prove his worth before he could garner the true support of each tribe. In the shadows of the Ironspire Mountains, deep in the valley's that run through that range, that Urzag the Vile based his war camp. Tunnels that led to the depths of the underdark, remote mountain trails, and a single run of bare earth were all paths to his call.

You each find yourselves having answered the Warlords call, though what you hope to gain from it is your own perogative. One the night of the ritual challenges, a great bonefire is lit in the middle of the camp, surrounded by the chieftains and mercenaries that have answered his call. This is where you find yourself, waiting to hear what Urzag the Vile has to say.

"Yo Bell wadya tink da Urza wants?  Me tinks its betta not be peace less it be a piece of battle.  Watcha youze think?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:03, Sun 06 Sept 2020.

 Rorak moves from fire to fire as the gathering sprawls over the slopes of the valley, trading a story with a tribal skald here or a string of blood-curdling insults with an enemy there - enjoying the almost-peace of the gathering as an opportunity to refresh old grudges and friendships alike, since there's far greater joy to be had in choking the life out of someone you can build up a proper head of hate for and no story worth telling in cutting down a foe whose name is not known and whose worth is not attested to.

 In accordance to his calling, he learns the deeds of those he would kill as well as those he would fight alongside and celebrates them equally before coming at last to the great ritual fire, a look of elemental satisfaction on his features in anticipation of the blood yet to be spilled.

In reply to Gora (msg # 2):

"Gruumsh Gore?  Makes you think about peace?  Of course it's not peace.  We haven't fought the war yet.  War first, then peace then more war.  That's the way it works sis."  Bellatrix shrugged, intent on finding out what Urzag did want in this case.  She wasn't hoping for peace either but she was curious to know what kind of war and how it would be fought (and how they would win).

Kozryaka stood skin hot and dry from tending one of the cooking fire. She had a large cauldron of a rude sort of stew of mysterious gamey but surprisingly plentiful meat with just enough wild herbs and vegatable to claim it was stew instead of simply boiled meat. She stirred the lightly bubbling concoction with a long stick. It wasn't going to win any cooking competitions but for orcish war camp food it was remarkably good, almost home cooked orcish food good, though certainly not we stole the entire roast boar from the winter solstice feast good. She had a barrel of water that she was letting people drink from but also refilling the stew from. The later you ate the less meat you'd get.

She kept relatively quiet watching the warriors like a mountain lion on the prowl, but whatever she was hunting it wasn't the typical warriors she was feeding stew to.

 All Gnolls consider themselves hunters, but Rorak's long expanded that definition beyond merely running around the woods and hills with a pointy stick, looking for something that can't run fast enough to get away to include a more general ability to find the things he wants or needs at fairly short notice...

 ...which is why it's still fairly early in the evening when he comes up to Kozryaka's fire and offers her a fierce, winning sort of grin before holding a loaf of thick-crusted travel bread which he breaks in half to offer her one part of while keeping the other to himself to use as a bowl while he growls - in fluent orcish "Smells good." - and then goes on to demonstrate a degree of perceptiveness beyond the average by adding "Looking for something?"

Kozryaka politely took the bread with a grunt. Staring at the gnoll haughtily as she dunked the bread into the meaty broth, she lifted the bread to her mouth tearing off a mouthful never breaking eye contact. This seemed to qualify as high courtesy among orcs. "Stew." She kicked a log deeper into her fire adding a new log to keep up the heat. "As a woman I cook for the warriors. That is the proper way of the world. A woman should stay in the caves, but I am a witch so I am here. Because I am here I will try to find warriors of merit before some tame cow sinks her claws into them. I am a woman." She sized up Rorak who was a generous hand's width taller than her despite her towering size and massive frame. "Eat. If someone claims you take more than your share, they are welcome to try to take it from you." Her tone is congenial if a tad sadistic. She seemed to think a bit of a scrape over who gets to eat what was perfectly acceptable entertainment. It was one might realize a clever test the witch was using. Warriors would see who took how much this was the first test, how strong did one think they were. Then there was the question of would anyone try to take it from them which told her how strong the war band thought they were. Which left only who would win the fight if one ensued. However things went she'd be a step closer to identify which warriors were of interest to her.

 Rorak stares evenly back, no more inclined to break eye contact than Kozryaka - and perhaps slightly better equipped to savagely tear into his meal than she is (although only slightly, given how fearsome a figure the orc woman represents). At her words, he can't help but snort though, grinning viciously as he observes "If I told a Gnoll woman that, she'd try to rip my balls off for a purse." before cheerfully emphasising "Try." with something in the way of good humour about the whole idea - whatever else the burly savage has going on in his head, an appreciation for a good challenge is definitely front and centre in his mind.

 Like her, he returns the inch-by-inch study, measuring her with the sort of eyes that look past muscle and tusk to see her and parse through her thinking with a definite glitter of evil amusement in them as he remarks "I'm no witch, although I've a few gifts my my own. I speak the Word and the Word answers... And right now it's whispering in my ear that you've something in mind." - as he speaks, he stoops to ladel stew into his half-loaf without looking, eating heartily although not - for the moment - greedily.

"Gora be Amazon too. So Gora say any man who try to make me go to do what Gora don't wanna do will get sore head quick. Gora do what Gora wanna do, go where Gora wanna do and be friend wid whom ever wanna be friend wid Gora.

So long as it is not a tax person who wants to take Gora's gold.


Or some little nasty fool who wanna take her stew"
 The Half Orc Maid adds as she looks at the stew in anticipation
This message was last edited by the player at 02:09, Wed 09 Sept 2020.

Bellatrix thought about the gauntlet that had been thrown down.  She had stopped eating long ago but she enjoyed War. She had no intention of being left behind but she and Gora probably wouldn't be in this competition either, not being men.

She began beating her drum and in time with the beats she said this:

"I have eaten my fill of meat and bread.  I have built fires from the bones of the dead.  I have no place in the caves my boys.  For my meat drips with blood and battle's joy.  I am Bellatrix the Stormcrow.  It is your time sister take your turn. Show your place on Glory's road."

She grinned.  "Will I fetch your share dear sister, or will you take your own?"

"Gnoll, and half-humans, little boy and camp follower-"

She paused to collect her thoughts stirring the pot. She was looking at Gora when she said little boy, and Bellatrix was the camp follower. She didn't give them a chance to immediately protest continuing in what might be called a sermon.

"HE WHO WATCHES, instructs the mighty: Gather, Breed, Flourish in number, Rise up in hoards, Seize that which is rightfully yours, Raid, Kill, and Conquer. These are the commandments the mightiest god, gave to his children the mighty. You are not his children even if you're grand-children. You will need to prove you are mighty, not just here and now or to me, always to the rest of the mighty.

This hoard belongs to Urzag the Vile. If he came and ate the entire pot, none would challenge him. But it is enough food to sustain a warrior for a week, and if his hoard doesn't eat, they will be weak in battle. It's is the duty of the greater among the mighty to leave their lessors fed but hungry for that which they don't have knowing the strength they must gain to claim it. So don't shy from a fight, but understand you do this in service of Urzag to make his hoard stronger never weaker. It is the way of all warrior, all men."

She looked to Bellatrix specifically appraising her. Not seeming to be able to discern what she wanted to no but offered a statement clearly only about her and not her sister. "The ways of women are subtler and more cunning. The CAVE MOTHER commands us. But we do not discuss such mysteries in the presence of men. But we also defend that which is ours.

Your sister, if he intends to carry weapons and fight like a warrior, he will take the food he wants for himself with strength and courage or he will know hunger. This you should let him, if he would be thwarted better to be defeated here than during a great battle. He can give you food if he wishes."

Bellatrix nods and takes a share.  It's a small share but a share nonetheless.  "This is my share".  She says.  "I take it for the reasons you have stated.  I will do with it as I wish."  She looks around the assembled warriors and then back to the witch.  "I will fight alongside my sister if Urzag will have me, and SHE will come and take her own share."

Bellatrix knows all that Kozryaka has said but she is no camp follower and Gora is no child.  They intend to prove this in battle.

In reply to Bellatrix (msg # 12):

"Kind sister indeed I will take my share but what think you of the one who sees boys where there are none?  Well none that I can see here about"   Moving over to the pot and taking her share even if she had to rip someones throat out to get it. Glancing with menace at any who would deny her the right to do so.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:22, Wed 09 Sept 2020.

Bellatrix returns to the place she was sitting and lets her food grow cold if it must. She looks over toward Kozryaka and nods then looks around the assembled Orcs.  She sits down.

In reply to Bellatrix (msg # 14):

seeing Bells food getting cold Gora reaches over to snag the portion so she could choose some of the better looking bits and playfully offer them to Bella.  "now eat this Bella and become fit and wise beyond what any other can fathom, for as it has been said strength may fail in later years but the Wise just get Wiser.  The wise assets:)"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Wed 09 Sept 2020.

Bellatrix met her sister's gaze and said quietly.  "Put it back Gore.  It's symbolic and has no nutritional value.  Besides I'm already wise.  Admittedly not VERY wise, but I'm wiser than most half-humans."  She grins.