~Shatroful Onreinn~ Mission to Vesper (open)

[Gauls]

Brightening 10, Cycle 1, in the Month of Junctior, in the Season of Autumn,
Era II of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XIV Post Fractum

It was not until mid morning of the 10th brightening that the trade caravan had left Ire on a route that would take about three brightenings both ways to and from Vesper. The weather was cooperating luckily and with the relative small size of the caravan, it was much easier and faster to travel than with a larger string of wagons. This caravan only had two wagons, a dozen snaga rakul (wheel slaves mostly goblins), and about ten rog (guards all orc). They were first headed toward Narim and would have to camp once before reaching that destination. Next, they had planned to ride into Narim on the second day to rest before making the third day's journey from Narim to Vesper. It was there that the Bolg Rakul (wheel master) would negotiate for the trade of the supplies on their wagons for food and water for the Hordes.

Much depended upon the success of this trade mission and only time will tell if the supplies they do gain will be of any help to the orc forces in the field.

[Grik Doomhammer]

The suns of Telath were moving higher into the sky, a good day for traveling. And also for Grik to get accustomed to riding the horse. The creature seemed to be easy going, and allowed Grik to ride. Only once had he slipped, but caught himself before he fell. He glared at the Rogs behind him who chuckled and called a few disparaging remarks. He would prove to them his prowess once they ran across some humans, or elves, or if they were luck a few ugly dwarves. Not that he wished for an interuption, but once he cracked a skull or two with his axe they would see.

As he was riding near the bolg rakul, he was able to hear the outline of the journey. They should be back at Orckon within the of the next brightening. A few camps along the way and a stop in a city called Narim, before heading to the destination, Vesper. This was good news, for they would be back intime for Grik to begin the next phase of his training. A few more training classes and he would no longer be called a lughorn. But hold the status of an actual member of the Horde.

It looked as if these orcs had everything sorted out. Plenty of supplies, plenty of stupid goblins to work, and enough guards to cover them all. The horde was much more organized than his home mob was. But here the results and the rewards were much greater. For the horde was attempting to secure its place in area, to survive despite the pestering weaklings interfering. Grik was starting as a Rog, and as a Lughorn, but soon he would boost himself up. It was a good brightening alright, a good one fore the green recruit.

[Gauls]

Several candlemarks had passed since the caravan left Ire and it was now approaching mid-brightening. The bolg rakul had been trying to stick to open areas where possible and this was in direct opposition to how they normally travel. Usually orcs would stay in woods or other concealment to stay out of sight of potential way-lay. The bolg was confident though that since the orcs were in control of all the lands in this area, especially so close to Ire that there was nothing to worry about.

The wagons had yet to traverse a road. It wouldn't be until sometime the next brightening that they would finally reach the Narim trade route. When they finally did reach it, that was where they planned to camp. The heat of the day though was bearing down upon the greenskins though. Within Ire they were under the veil of the thick smoke from the forges that helped to screen out the sun rays during the highest points of the sun but out here in the open, they had no respite.

"Halt!" the bolg rakul yelled.

All of the wagons came to a stop and the rog upon their horses pulled back, left, and right on their reigns and kicked their animals gently with their heels on one flank of the horse or the other to get the animal to turn in the direction that they wanted them to go. The rog that had been on caravan before placed their horses at evenly spaced
positions around the wagons for protection.

The bolg wheeled his horse around and pointed at the lead wagon. "Ju git da water barrels set out. We drink and rest here!"

Two goblins on the first wagon jumped back into the bed of the wagon and hefted a water barrel to the edge of the back end of the wagon. There, they pulled off the top and dipped a mug into the water. The goblins lined up first to take drinks from the barrel while the rog stood watch.

"Drink up din relax a bit. We start again soon!" the bolg shouted.

The goblins after drinking would flop down inside the wagon and shut their eyes and when it was the rog's turn to drink they would chug down a mug then dismount and sit upon the ground next to their animals. Another barrel was placed open upon the ground to allow any horses that were thirsty to be brought over to drink.

[Eyvind Redbeard]

The Second Domanus of the First Centuri of the First Cohorti of the Second Daos had arrived in Vesper a few Brightenings ago. They commander, Sword Daekin Torun had ordered the Legionnaires to be always ready to march as they were here to perform a simple mission, gather whatever recruits for the Provincial Army they could and bring them to the Training Fields outside of Taralon. At first the people of Vesper had refused to join up the cause, only a handful of adolescents offering themselves to serve in the Army, but as the Brightenings passed more started to understand the need to help in the war effort.

They weren't many but all men counted and with some luck men from nearby villages would come to join as well. Until then the Legionnaires were guarding Vesper from whatever intrusion there could be. They were too close to Narim and Orc territory, too close for Torun's liking.

"Shield Daekin Litoran."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Have the men ready for whatever may happen. The wind smells to greenskins since we arrived, Narim is not far and our presence may call the Orc's attention. We must also defend Vesper from all raiding parties there may be, and there are many I am sure of that."

The Shield Daekin nodded and walked away barking orders to a handful of Legionnaires who were sitting nearby drinking water and eating their rations.

"On your feet rats! We are not tourists! I want a man in the town's highest rooftop, right away!"

With their iron discipline backing them the Black Shields promptly stood up and took positions in the town's square while one climbed up to the a rooftop with the help of his companions.

[Grik Doomhammer]

Grik was uncomfortable, and that made him an irritable creature indeed. The riding on horseback seemed to shake every bone in his body, and his muscles grew tight from the exercise. Add onto that the heat from traveling in the open during the brightening, when his kind usually traveled under more cover and closer towards dusk. But this was the life of a Rog, the life of a grunt in the Horde. An honour that Grik held in high regard.

Once the Bolg yelled halt, Grik followed the lead of the other Rogs, and slowed and turned his new mount. Being wary of the open he kept his eyes open and towards the horizon, in search of any approaching threat. They were still in territory firmly held by orcs, the young orc wanted to prove his ability to serve as a guard.

After he circled the caravan once, the goblins had finished thier drinks and rested. Grik moved over and slide off his mount and took a few huge gulps of the tepid water. And as the other did so he led his mount to drink while he streched his legs and back from the ride. He took full advantage of the small break, for he wanted to stay as fresh as he could. Even his attitude brightened abit with the chance to walk about, and to quince his thirst.

[Gauls]

The Camp

Eyvind

With all of the commotion in the little village of Vesper, it was no wonder there were looks of concern and curious looks of worry upon the faces of the residents that stayed in the village after the fall of Narim. They had survived it all once and now it was revisiting them. All they wanted to do was live in peace. Most of the younger families that could move away did over the past era. Those that were too poor or too old were the ones that stayed behind trying to defend what little they had in this world.

The soldiers were now trying to stir up the fears of the citizenry to come join their cause. The results of joining were still very fresh in the minds of the families here. Almost every family left in the village had lost at least one relative in the Narim fight. There were still those young ones that were too young the era before to be in the fight at Narim and were itching to prove themselves now that they were old enough. Still most of the handful of volunteers that heeded Eyvind's call to arms were those willing to die to defend their homes and their wives.

The soldiers took up locations on the highest roofs they could find though the largest structure was a thatched one-story grand hall in the center of the village by the local well. The other homes were thatched roofs also but too weak to hold a person sitting upon them. There was a watch tower near the grand hall with a bell in it. That was where one soldier took up watch. The watch tower shook as the soldier climbed the flimsy wood ladder leading up into the raised platform.

The rest of the village was made up of thatch homes that were barely bigger than one room. It was a simple fishing village just like any other without any real establishments of trade or entertainment. The people here lived with the natural surroundings to entertain them. With such few structures, keeping watch over the whole area was easy as well as the approaches to the village were well visible from the watch tower.

Grik

The bolg rakul yelled for all to mount up and within moments, the water barrels were stowed and the rog had taken their places back on the flanks of the wagons. With a jerk, they were all back in motion. The day grew dark and instead of slowing down, the bolg rakul pushed the orcs onward to make good time while the darkness cloaked their movements. All in the caravan were worn, covered with dust, and hungry.

What seemed like a never-ending journey finally wore into the next brightening. The
speed of the caravan had slowed drastically but the bolg rakul's cruel pace paid off. Off in the distance, there came a call from one of the rog in the front of the column.

"Road!" he yelled.

Others in the wagons stood to look out at the horizon. Sure enough, the Narim trade route was now in sight. This was their camp site. The bolg turned to Grik and one other rog and motioned for them to ride up beside him. Once they were up, the bolg would give instructions.

"Ride up der an' check out da road. Make sure der nothin' der ta worry 'bout."

The rog beside Grik thumped his chest in salute and spurred his horse forward toward the road. The bolg continued leading the caravan toward the road slowly until Grik and the other reg reported back the condition of the road.

[Grik Doomhammer]

There was a knot in Grik's belly, with the situation at hand that was not to be unexpected with someone of his status. A few jitters should be expected, but it was not any jitter due working as a Rog for a caravan. It was a knot of hunger, he was able to grab a few bits of hard tack from his small travel sack. That did little for the orc as they traveled on into the darkening and further towards first light.

The travel got slightly better for the orc, other than the hunger he was beginning to understand the commands for the beast he rode. It was fairly simple and he was practicing turning the horse left and right as he was called forth by the Bolg. He shouted out instructions for both Grik and another orc to go check the road ahead.

A few seconds behind the other orc, Grik smacked his chest with a closed fist and uttered a grunt in reply then rode off. The caravan seemed to be set to camp, so they needed to secure the area. Other orcs watched the surrounding area as Grik and the other surveyed the area to the road. The two raced ahead, but Grik was slightly behind scanning around him. He wanted to be thorough so he paid attention to the detail of the woods, and once they neared the road to see if any traffic was approaching or leaving. With his battle axe upon his back he was prepared for an attack.

As he sat astride his mount he looked down to the road, and to the area right off the road. This was to be cautious of any other group passed through recently, or if any moved off the road to take cover in the bush by the road. It was a tactic that his mob had used in the past and for the unprepared it was great suprise.

[Gauls]

Grik

The caravan trudged on toward the road and since the rog did not signal whether there was trouble outright. After a few moments the first rog t the road returned to give the coast was clear. The wagons pulled right up to the roadside and circled until the bolg rakul yelled for them to halt. Quickly all of the goblins, who had been resting comfortably upon the wagons, lept off and began to set up camp.

The cool morning breeze blew as the goblins piled upon one another to sleep under the shade of their wagons. The rog and even the bolg slept upon the ground under the shade of their horses with rog taking turns guarding every two candlemarks. Those that were more hungry than sleepy had stoked a small fire to char the salted pork that was pulled from the back of one of the wagons. The Shatroful Onreinn pulled out all the stops to supply their people.

Finally after about five or six uneventful candlemarks, the caravan had risen again and were packed and on the road toward Narim. It was already well into the afternoon when they got underway so it would only get darker as they went on and the pace seemed to quicken the darker it got. The orcs were not so hindered once the sunlight had diminished.

It was early into the next brightening when the bone waery travelers spotted the fortified defensive works of the horde surrounding Narim. Why were they sleeping out in trenches outside of the city instead of within the ruined city? It was yet to be seen.

[Grik Doomhammer]

Astride his horse Grik continued to scan the road as the caravan moved foreward. No sign of trouble was a good sign, for the caravan should make it to the destination on time. He wiped his brow and cursed the glaring of the rising suns, awaiting the fall of dusk again.

As they rested and ate Grik thought of practicing. To loosen up the tight muscles of travel, and to further prepare him for his role in the Horde. He would wait till after his watch and slept in the shade till he was called on. Then following the standard procedure of the other Rogs, he circled rest of the caravan watching the perimeter of thier camp. When time came for the next watch he moved to a clearing to work out that over head chop that his mob chief had taught him.

Soon enough Grik and the rest of the Rog were called to mount up and get into position. The remaining two suns were diping lower into the sky, of that he was happy. Also happy that one of the bright orbs had disapeared, he did not know why, but for some reason it seemed to make Telath slightly easier place to live during the Brightenings.

The darkening passed uneventfully, and soon the dawn of a new brightening was emerging. Weary from the road and travel plus the coming bright light affect Grik. He paid attention to his job, as any loyal grunt would do. But he was amoung the first to see the fort of Narim, and it brought forth a spring to his canter. A murmer went amount the Rog as they closed and saw the fellow Horde mates sleeping in trenches. They should have hovels built within the city.

Grik was now at attention, though still weary, he reached to loosen his axe. To be ready for conflict if that came. Grik was more a creature of action than patience, one thing that he woul have to work on as he wished to grow within the ranks of the Horde. Keeping pace with the caravan, he watch the coming fortifications, along with possible ambush points to thier rear.

[Gauls]

Grik

The caravan rode closer to the trench works built by the 5th Ushtar. Looking both left and right it seemed like the works went on for miles completely surrounding the ruined city of Narim. The caravan orcs would also note that the orcs in the trenches were not completely without comforts. There were odd groups of furniture, bedding, shiny silver and brass things, and even some clothes. All of this was arranged around the rear of the trenches making small outdoor living rooms all along the line. The orcs had stripped anything of value from Narim and used it to spruce up the positions they held. Some orcs were lying asleep on plush chairs while others in groups huddled around some pretty nice tables that look like they came out of a royal person's home playing cards.

The bolg rakul gave a quick order to one of the rog then rode ahead alone into the fortified line to find the commander no doubt and announce their arrival. The rog that was given the order bellowed out , "Circle wagons! Make camp!"

The wagons went into motion circling then came to a stop. All jumped off and were milling about when the bolg came back out of the trenches.

"Ju, come here!" pointing to Grik and the orc next to him. Pointing to his right side near the edge of the trench where a pile of crates were stacked, he ordered the rog, "Take two crates here an' put on back of wagon. Pick up one more din gib to da fellas!"

Upon completing this task and opening the third crate, Grik and the other rog would see a welcome surprise. The crate was full of angrybrew!

[Grik Doomhammer]

It would have been a strange site to the other races of Telath. For the orcs it was just common sense, they took what they needed and put it where they needed it. No respect for the dainty type orginization of most shara homes. And they thought orcs were not as intelligent, sure, and they coudl go on thinking the same thing.

The command for camp brought Grik back to his own two feet. He tied his mount to a wagon and streched out his once more tight thighs and back. He was swinging he torso back and forth when he was called forth by the bolg. When the commands were given, Grik grunted in approval, then moved off.

Once they moved the crates, and broke off the top Grik look down in happines. He grabbed mugg and filled it to overflowing, not knowing he was that thirsty. The two rogs looked at each other's face with a grin behind the turned up muggs. With the foam on thier upper lips they called out, 'Da Brew fer us!!!' Grik refilled his mugg before backing away from the crate.

Grunting in satisfaction he moved around the camp that the snaga were setting up. He watched observing the tasks they went to with out direction, these were good things for the orc to know for when he found himself in the leadership role. When he saw the bolg moving about, he raised his mugg and shouted, 'Tanks Boss!!'

[Gauls]

Grik

Luckily they only had one case to drink of angrybrew for it disappeared rather quickly. The bolg and the rest of the caravan filled their wagons with supplies that the bolg was able to trade with Narim garrison. The rest of the camp relaxed and before long the call to continue the final leg of the trip to Vesper was made.

With the bolg's command, the camp was broke and the wagons set upon the road ready to move out. The caravan was now heading into enemy territory and so the rog were going to be finally put to the test of defending the wagons. The bolg waved for a couple rog to ride ahead to act as point for the caravan and with a bark, the wagons were back in motion heading south. The lines of the Narim Front disappearing from sight behind them.

[Grik Doomhammer]

The mugg of angrybrew eased the tickle in Grik's throat. The dust from the road was something new for the young orc, but something he could get used to. These orcs worked together much better than the mob he had known as a whelp. With the rest and nurishment, he was ready to ride again. No time to dwell on the past, only the future glories of the Horde and of Grik Doomhammer.

It was no time before they were on the road again. The murmers from the other rog kept Grik on his toes. They would soon be entering the lands controled by the shari, which ment the roads may become more dangerous. For Grik that was not something to worry, but to welcome. He was not careless for the humans and elves had powerful fighters, and crafty wizards. They were usually full of suprises, but Grik was ready to prove his mettle. So with the order of the bolg, he signaled he would ride ahead with a fist pounded to his chest and a grunt.

The life of a rog was growing on the olive green orc. He was heading south, riding a point postition for the caravan. Being weary of the road ahead and the forests that lined the sides of the trade route. The opend dangerous road was ahead, and with it Grik's chance to prove himself.

[Grik Doomhammer]

Following the bolg's direction Grik and another orc continued ahead of the caravan. Thier eyes kept open and attentive as they knew they were in a more dangerous area. Though war had yet to break out, it could be any cycle now. As a trade mission they were set to guard against local ruffians and maybe a few Imperials who turned to being highwaymen to make a living. It was a tough life that Grik knew, the last few eras he had spent with the boys of the mob had taught him that.

There were plenty of human highwaymen, for the state of the Empire had given them no option. But of course it was those green of skin who got the blame, the scapegoats for the ails or the human kingdom. Grik did not let those thoughts weigh on his mind, for he shared the job of protecting thier goods of stone and iron. But if he could read minds he would hear the same throughout the more intelligent of the Horde.

The travel went well, the bolg rakul had pushed the pace once they had moved out of thier territory. It was a simple trade mission the bolg thought from his position atop the first wagon. To sell thier wares, and get food and drink for Orckon stocking supplies for the threat of the coming war. With the pace they were at they were right on scehdule, three brightenings there, and three back. The bolg wondered what the town would have to trade. For the orc had spent many eras in this profession, it was a high status job that required experience and skill. To first know the art of trade, then to know how to deal with the humans they were sent to share with.

The winds picked up as the brightening was wearing on, and the scent of the sea bit at the orcs and thier mounts noses. The salty air reminded the bolg of the items that the city should have in great supply, fish. The salted fish, and other treats of the ocean would be a welcome change from the standard hard tact that was being stored in the city. Once they began to near the city Grik fell back slgithly with his partner, but Grik wondered what they could trade with the pitiful excuse of a town. The new rog was voicing a valid concern, but the bolg knew a little more. With that knowledge he would be able to trade and take back all he needed for his mission to be complete.

The two wagon caravan rolled into town, with a few candlemarks left of the brightening. The town seemed empty of women and children, only the remaining men stood as they moved in. Though they had all most probably locked themselves inside the more secure areas of town. The bolg did not look concerned, for after the Narim War the town was left to wither by the Imperials that scavanged the town and areas. The bolg ordered a halt, to which the snaga rakul moaned to get to comply quickly.

The bolg looked up at the tower, knowing they had been seen a distance off. The city had that one stone tower, which worked to thier advantage as the city attempted to regain a semblance of it's former glory.

'Kin ju git da boss here?' He said in a tone he had learned would not scare humans.

'We bring goods ta trade,' His hand swung back at the two wagons. The slaves went about working to secure the lines, and the wagons in general. The more seasoned rog stood amoung thier mounts with calm ease, easy job and easy money for them. It was the younger few, the ones like Grik who were a little mroe cautious and watched the humans of the town with shifting eyes. Looking for the first sign of trouble, so he would not be caught unaware.

To rebuild the town, they would need the stone that the caravan carried. And the local smith could use the iron for nails, and parts for the local economy. The slaves were even for sale if the price was right, cheap labour to assist in the building of Vesper.