Lorkan had nothing better to do, so he dug. He could hear a mumak fighting outside, but he couldn't help the poor beast. At least for now he had drink, and the earth provides: Cave fungus!
He was sure there was something going on topside. Frantic building, fighting... it didn't matter for him though. He needed to focus on surviving.
The sounds of the demons seemed distant, and he admitted to himself he had an idea: Perhaps he could kill the monsters on his own? He had marble, he could make lures... Draw them in... And crush them under a pile of orcish engineering!
In the meantime, he was certain he heard a rumbling somewhere above him. Whatever it was, he was certain it'd run afoul of the horrors down here eventually. But meanwhile, above him, a terrible battle was underway. In a prepared (sort of,) arena, filled with trolls to soak up incoming fire or webs, orchestrated by a dreamwalker named Gradbul. If he'd been up there, he'd know it hadn't gone off flawlessly...
And he finally hit the switch, unsure if the demons were even in his trap.
After the noise had settled, he realized he didn't hear the noise anymore... It... It was over! He frantically pulled open the hatch and ran through, but found no demon remains... He ran back into his hideout and locked the hatch, and rolled the boulder that had kept him alive.
And he broke down crying at what he saw.
“Lorkan?!” One of the soldiers blurted out. “What're you doin' down here??”
The sobbing snaga looked up at the surprised warriors and answered “g-gettin my shield... Got trapped... Can't... Can't believe you're here!”
“So doz dis mean that boom an hour ago was him?” Gradbul asked, turning to Bolugd, who just shrugged.
“Gotta give you credit Snaga, figured we'd be finding your corpse. All we found of your squadmates were charred bones.” The Chief said. They all jumped when Ugluk yelped. They turned, and Grabul stood there, open flask in hand.
“Wot? His cloak caught fire again.”
+++
Migrants came not long after the dead had been buried and way to the underdark sealed. They'd find the madman responsible in due time, but for now, the new arrivals needed tending to. Among them was a foolhearty snaga, who demanded the right to bear arms amongst the uruks. His sheer audacity gained him this request.
That and three orcs having been killed by the demons.
Before long, life had, well, returned to normal. Preparations were being made to build a number of additional barracks, production of armor resumed for the militia (as it was sorely lacking much that it could make use of,) and the orcs made merry as was normal at the end of each month.
Gradbul had grown to love his ridiculously long hammer in time, and even named it, “Cardinalplanks, The Dangerous Grove.” Following this, an artisan is possessed by a spirit! The end result, an ashland glass spear, leads most to assume he was channeling the spirit of the slain warrior Ughorb, who was kicked to death by a Nightmare in the last stages of the anti-abomination mission.
The badgermen attacked sometime into summer, and the warriors went into battle. In the wake of the pile of carcasses, Ugluk was granted the right to wield a proper orcish katana in battle, as it was found he'd fought against not just the demons, but many other using only his masterful wooden shield.
And two months later, they were unveiled. Using stone salvaged from the underdark, three katanas, two exceptional, one superior made, forged from sacred adamantine. Bolugd, Talata, and Ugluk were given the weapons, Bolugd as the ultimate sign of his skill, Talata for surviving being lit on fire four times, and Ugluk in recognition of his bravery, facing badgermen and demons alike with only a lamellar helmet and wooden shield.
And in celebration, it was declared a raid would be launched on an ancient orcish fortress. Their hopes weren't high, but they'd had the map for several years according to the dreamwalkers, and this seemed a good cause to use it. As the preparations began, several weeks pass, and Ugluk proves to be a swift learner of the ways of the sword, and is declared a swordmaster. In celebration, a spear receives its name! In wake of this, little happens. Months pass uneventfully, besides the new training spaces being built. But then they see them. The Skiffs have returned!
And they've brought loot! It was eagerly cracked open, and amid several simple trinkets and obsidian weapons, were four bars of orichalcum and a set of Deep Bronze Greaves! It was with this, that a chamber was dug in the quarry, one whose walls would be spared the pick once finished. Bolugd took the greaves for himself, leaving the other items to the discretion of the populous.
Within a few days however, there were signs of aggression from the woodlands: Two arrows flew over the walls, narrowly missing a pet condor. Elven warriors were somewhere outside the wall! Bolugd's squad moved to investigate and exterminate, while Gorlshk's squad moved to protect the gate, and keep any further intruders away.
As they advanced, they stumbled into a group of strange elf-spirits; Senshuken had seen their ilk before, patrolling with human archers in a town he'd once passed through with a caravan. They were easy enough to destroy, but their webs proved a hindrance to getting to the archers. Once they wre dead, the warriors assaulted the mounted archers.
In the ensuing chaos of the usual melee, Gradbul wound up blocking a unicorn's charge with his hand, getting his hand speared for the trouble. In retaliation, he killed his attack and two other unicorns in rapid succession, spiking his first enemy and bashing in the skulls of the other two, sending their riders tumbling to the ground. He flexed his hand and thankfully could still move it; nothing permanent was damaged.
Meanwhile, mounted pike-elves attacked the gate, requiring Gorlshk's squad to get their hands dirty, slaughtering the bulk of them before turning their attention to a small pack of dire wolves, which fell with little effort.
Just as Gorlshk declared the gate clear, Bolugd's squad found themselves outnumbered horribly, and yet the chief tried to order Gradbul to fall back and get his hand patched, insisting they could handle the horde of elves.
Gradbul would have none of that. Swinging his polehammer about one-handed, what he lacked in landing fatal blows he made up for in shattering bones left, right, and center. Such was his and his comrades' bloodlust that even with the elves dead or fleeing into the deeper woods, several giant louse weren't even spared before the red mist cleared from their vision.
They'd made quite the mess.
They returned to the gate, Senshuken heading in to refill his billion flask while Gradbul had his hand tended to. A passing crafts orc who was recovering a breastplate much too big even for an Olog to wear then told them several groups of human soldiers were in the area, state troops by the looks of them. Bolugd went into the settlement to consult Lugbok on positions, since he was always the one spending time on the temple or mead hall, and generally the one to see them.
He returned with Senshuken, wearing the plate of the old tales on his body. He Directed Gorlshk's squad to a group of archers on the far side of the hold, and told the gathered fighters: “The ancient Centurions walk with us my brothers!” Referring to his armor. A cheer came from them, and once Gorlshk and his orcs returned, they went back inside, celebrating with their fellows.
As winter came, drow assassins were found dead in the traps. Morbai was livid, and ordered the raiders to launch an attack on the drow while the river would still allow them to go assemble their men. But Bolugd told her to relax, after all, thanks to their dreamwalkers' past efforts that had gone largely forgotten, the mightiest legacy of the Orcish people was rekindled.
HELLOOOOOO MY ORCS!
I won't summarize some of it. Speaks for itself. But I will fess up to: Slayracing three spirits of fire (due to combat log spam when they tried to kill a stone elemental fruitlessly, and the human siege's horses (prompting most of them to flee.)
We killed a shitload of elves and unicorns, Gradbul was injured (sigh, again,) the bulk of the militia has training spaces, had an artifact spear made, and one of the best? A successful raid on our ancestor's old holds! And better than that?
Years ago after I got the Treesinger Pagoda and Runesmith, I left the dreamwalkers to just walk the ancient dreamlands till they ran out of dreamwalk talismans. I was looking through some bins, just to see what sorts of garbage we had exactly, and lo and behold... An Ancient Foundry blueprint was mixed in there! Along with an assault plan, which is what prompted the siege; I attacked a crusader abbey with it and the humans took exception to that. Anyway, that foundry's been decorated to look like a real nice forge with platinum doors, ruby candelabras, ruby fireplaces (standing in for forges,) platinum braiziers, and marble racks, stands, chests (tool boxes basically,) and tables to display fine weaponry for our heroes to peruse.
Among our warriors, two boworcs and a spearorc were killed, and several wound up with the fat melted off them, among them Beirus and one or two of his soldiers, showing once again Beirus is the unluckiest squad leader.
Now, this will probably be the last update to my 34.11 forts for a while (save a tour of Blackhold sometime this week,) but I have a plan for Blackhold. Are there any takers for either providing semi-regular updates, or turning this big boy into a succession? I'll still keep a save as it is now for my own use, either if there's no takers or if things go sour in an unentertaining way to resume as normal.
Basic and many advanced industires run just fine on their own or with very little overhead, and most recurring threats can be dealt with by parking the elites by the gate and waiting for the enemy to commit suicide. That leaves only some kind of challenges or monuments to do.
Anyways, here's another fairly short one! Enjoy guys. Time to begin preparations for Operation: Bludgeonskulls.
Oh, and before I forget, here's your orc Quartz_Mace. He's a badass. Survived fighting Spirits of fire and badgermen with just a wooden shield as a weapon and he picked up sword skill disturbingly quickly. Within a couple months he became a swordmaster under the other swordsmasters' tutelage.
Sorry this one was so short guys, enjoy!
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Topic: ☼"Blackhold," A Masterwork Orc Fortress☼ - Under new management! (Read 58333 times)