Escape from Bloodtusk - Sweet Revenge

[bimble]

As spring came to the lands and holdings of the people of
Waterdeep so did a new fear, or so Evika hoped.

Sitting high upon a black rock just out of sight of the Road
that travelers in this region called the Black Griffon. The
names human gave thier creations never ceased to amaze Evika,
"What in the fooking nine hells fer dogs is a black damn ol
Griffon?" she asked herself. "Wait till the Orcs of Bloodtusk
raid these lands, and then we shall change this name!" For a
moment she pondered that outcome, for the Orcs had already
sent scouting parties in this direction. She had terroized
this region for months now. Picking her quarry carefully,
taking the weak, the sick and all the merchants who passed
by and murdering them in the night. Leaving each with a
bloody red spine trailing thier bloated bodies. All in hopes
of stirring up Red-Tails passion - and taunting him out of
the City of Waterdeep.

A cool breeze swept the rock for a moment, leaving the promise
of spring on the air.

Red-Tail had not yet appeared, but many of his cohorts had
trailed and hunted her. At first they were just hired guards
bloated with weapons and bellies full of liqour. It didnt
take long for Evika to learn to kill one in the middle of the
night and the rest fled back to safer environs. It helped to
take thier eyes, or scalps. The thought of scalps made Evika
snicker. A month of this and finer sorts started to appear.
Not as protectors of merchants and travelers but as bounty
hunters. Young Rangers, Dwarven warriors even a druid led
small groups to find "The cruel Orcs." It was harder to deter
these hunters, so Evika simply led them in circles and often
holed up with the Red Boulder tribe of Ogres that lived hidden
along the road. "Each enemy teaches its own lesson, listen to
thier words - stay close, watch, smell, listen learn." Were
words that her father had told many young male Orc raiders.

The oft felt breeze blowing from the south brought the smell
of bacon fat and waxed leather, shaking Evika from her
thoughts as surely as the words she heard following the wind
down the Black road, "Geez Ramas, the Tel'Quessir already
caught that damn killer Orc! No more than an hour down the
road." "Why are we still following this old trail? Lets get
us back down the road and stack a bit of that claim."

Evika slid down the rock and curled around its base like a
mottled green snake, a dark hateful sword drawn like a
flickering tongue as she moved. "Turns out there was really
five of those ugly ass Orcs, so the reward will be great and
the Tel'Quessir will need help getting them into the city
fer questioning." said the loud oblivious tracker. "Right ya
are laddy. Course I doubt the Tel'Quessir had anything to do
with this days works, they dont deign to deal in matters like
these. Aloof and snooty they are!" "Course a chance at good
coin is a chance missed by my liver ta-night at the Inn."

Evika let her breath release slowly as the pair of trackers
doubled back on thier own trail in hopes of finding thier
goal in the hands of others like themselves. "Five other Orcs"
she whispered to herself. The scouting parties were becoming
more frequent and now they were being given credit for her
hard work!

And then it struck her.

Something was wrong. Five Orcs captured? This could not be, to
capture five Orcs, hundreds must have particpated in the raid
and it was too early for that. Something was wrong and Evika's
interest was piqued. Removing her winter boots for the first
time in months she padded quietly behind the trackers - too
far back to hear more of thier conversation, but close enough
to see them as they disappeared around the turns, gullies and
byways of the Black Griffon Road. It had been days since she
last saw wolf, no need for his help when ambushing helpless
travelers - but now. Evika willed the wolf to her with warm
thoughts of friendship, of the hunt and the run. After 40 or
more minutes of shadowing the bounty hunters wolf appeared
almost supernaturally at her side. Running a boney hand down
his neck and flank, Evika could feel the tenseness in the
Dire Wolf. Enemies were near. More enemies than the pair that
she had followed thus far. As Wolf dropped low, stepping into
a small raving, Evika slid onto his muscular back and wrapped
her legs around his shoulders. Spurring him hard to higher
ground to survey the racous noises ahead.

A small, poorly planned encampment was layed out a short run
ahead. Dirty, dark leather clad humans were gathered near
several Orcs that were tied and bound to heavy oak logs in
the center of the camp. A small fire of coals burned like a
blossoming red flower as a small bellows sent sparks and
debris floating up into the air. After a few strokes of the
bellows a fat human pulled a metal rod from the coals and
approached an Orc - placing the rod to its bare feet resulted
in a chorus of shrieks and screams from all the Orcs. Evika
grimaced as she saw that most were near death. Fingers were
missing, cheeks slashed and eyes gouged out. Her people were
had been suffering this torture for days. Fresher tents and
cleaner adventurers had gathered around the center of the
small camp - including the pair she had followed to this
place. The show was attracting a audience from far away it
seemed. The Orc raiders had been holding onto life for many
days it seemed.

The trick was as old as The One Who Could Not Be Named! There
was a larger raiding party close by, waiting for the screams
of the five captives to attract enough viewers or maybe just
once good warrior before the swooped in on wolfback and slew
the whole encampment. Evika settled in for the coming battle.
It would have to be soon, for her Orcish comrades were near
death. They could only have a full day of life left in them.
Evika whispered a small prayer to Ilvenal - and slowly faded
from visibility.

The screams from the Orc with burning feet, for the torturer
had soon foregone the metal rod and just drug his victim's
feet into the fire, hit a high crescendo as the gaudy red and
yellow wagon entered the camp. A portly man in his late years
proceeded to help a woman that looked like she was wearing
the same paint from her wagon as clothing - into the camp.
Once the pair realized the scene in full, the garish woman
fell to the ground, raising snickers from the crowd of wicked
men and peals of silent laughter from Evika. Seconds later a
tall man with broad shoulders and a weather tanned face walked
into the camp after the wagon. He practically sprinted to the
woman, rescuing her from her dirty bed on the ground and with
a word returning her to the covered traveling wagon. The low
snickers from the crowd of onlookers turned to whispers, then
into loud calls for the man to reappear, "Necasio, Necasio!
come out and see our captives for we are Heroes this day."
The portly driver of the garish wagon, broke from his surprise
and mounted the wagon - reigns in hands he waited till the
tall ranger emerged, slapping the horses hard and sending the
wagon speeding down the Griffon Road.

With whipcord clarity the human named Necasio removed the
slender elven long bow from his shoulder and threw dozens of
black fletched arrows point first into the soft earth around
his feet. The crowd gasped at his angry, hard words, "Heroes
naught this day fine fellows - but dead men!" Moving with
simple grace he closed the distance to captive Orcs while
drawing a long delicate blade. The bladed shined forth like
a ray of light after a long hard rain and swept the head from
the Orc with burning feet - and before the onlookers could
voice a second gasp the blade sang through the air with much
grace and precision, ending the lives of all the Orcs. Evika
was instantly enthralled, only the Dark One could move this
way with fluidity and grace - but this Necasio creature did so
in the light. Returning to his small fortress of arrows he
centered himself among the angry crowd. "You stole our reward"
they began to yell. Un-rebuffed the Ranger said in retort,
"Fools you have played into a greater trap! Listen for the Orcs
surround you at this moment with greater numbers than you can
count!" As if to add power to his speach he reached to his
green foresters hood and pulled it down to reveal, in Evika's
view a ugly human face without snout or intriguing feature,
with the exception of long dark hair pulled back into a long
tail. A long dark tail, tipped in crimson... RED! Red-Tail,
the name screamed through her mind and sent her heart racing
with abandon. RED-TAIL, NECASIO RED-TAIL the name burned in
her mind like the hot coals of the fire a short distance below.

Evika saw nothing of the others in the camp, no creature, no
noise, no commotion could break the focus she had on the killer
of her father. She mounted Wolf in and bounding leap and kicked
him into a pell mell charge down the small hill. She nearly
bounced off the great Dire Wolf as she let go his mighty neck
to draw the twin longswords of seething hateful shadow at her
sides. The sang in hungry anticipation as they hit the spring
air. Evika planned no defense, no strategy - only revenge as
she charged. She did not even grimace as the dread Ranger
brought his bow up and began to fire arrow after arrow in all
directions. RED-TAIL! Evika screamed as challenge, and Wolf
answered with a accompanying baleful hunting howl.

Almost immediately she was accompanied by the calls of, "Blood
and Hate!" and "ShatterBone!" Wolf's pounding feet where also
being answered by the thumping run of a hundred other Dire
Wolves charging down the hills, up though gulleys and out of
the nearby woodlands.

Before Evika could close with her most hated ememy he was
nearly struck by a passing wolf and its rider. So close that
the Ranger had to end his rain of black fletched death and
roll to the ground, coming up with fists full of steel. That
steel danced among the chaos and stuck with swiftness ending
the lives of a host of mountless Orcs, seemingly like the
touch of his sword brought a final word in its passing. Evika
passed the ranger at full gallop and lashed out with all the
skill her father had lent her. And was rebuffed by a blocking
blade as if she wasnt there. Her momentum forced her through
the dirty, now bloody camp before she could wheel around for
another run at the besieged Ranger. And for the first time she
grasped the nature of the situation. The ShatterBone tribe
had come hunting this day and was out in partial force raiding
along the Black Griffon Road. Many were lying dead yards from
the melee, black shafted arrows in eyes, throats and chests
each wound fatal none with more than a single arrow. The poor
human hunted lay also maimed and screaming around the perimeter
of the encampment. The survivors had retreated around the tall
ranger as if he was a battlement wall.

Evika slowed Wolf on the farside of the camp, and seethed at
the ranger. Dozens of ShatterBone bodies lay around the small
group of humans. And dozens more would soon join them! The
ranger was a match for any Orc or number of Orcs that rushed
to him. Red-Tails blades sang the song of death taught by He
Who Can Not Be Named, cleansing the ShatterBones of thier
weak and poorly trained. Evika stopped short of another charge
as the Ranger gave up his life to the blades, his breathing
changed, his eyes seemed to dance with new life as if he was
listening to the sound of his blades whistling through the
brisk air, ringing stinging home into the bodies of his foes.
The tide of the battle changed in the song of his blades and
the fluid graceful dance of artistry. And Evika knew without
a doubt.

No single living Orc could defeat Necasio Red-Tail.

It would take a horde of Orcs, or strong allies. Evika had
dishonored the Orcs.

Evika reigned in her hate and attempted to push her revenge
back deep into her mind. To get revenge she would need to
master the skills of Red-Tail and find the allies to teach
and help her.

Evika fled the field of battle, sobbing "Out Matched and
Broken, Revenge lost my Father." as she disappeared into the
forest. "Artikerus, Nilan where are you!" came a wail from
the deep shadows.

[Clan Blindhammer]

"..Aye our pockets are gettin bigger..
And growin upon our beards...
Drinkin' up all the liquors..
And Drinkin' up all the beers..
Aye, ye can't be knowin' the clamor,
But ye be knowin' who he is..
Aye ye be knowin Clan Blindhammer,
And their patron Ar-tik-er-us."

Artikerus sang the song over and over aloud as he slowly made his way down the moonlit path. He didn't worry about anyone finding him, few dared travel these woods with the threats of marauding orcs around. Artikerus had seen many of the patrols lately, but of course, being a surly dark dwarf, paid them no heed. He had even walked into a clearing on purpose and stared one patrol down, trying to egg the evil humanoids into a fight. Wisely, they had backed down.

Artikerus unconsciously fingered a small ring that was fitted onto a leather cord around his neck as he made his way down the path. He could hear his clansmen working up ahead, hammers and singing reverberating through the forest air. He had told his clan to keep it down, and indeed, they were..he couldn't hear them more than a mile away any more. But building a settlement on the surface wouldn't be easy, even without prying eyes of other surface folk. It was a gamble being out en masse right now, but Artikerus knew the cost.

Artikerus Blindhammer always knew the costs.

He stopped before leaving the forest and peered out into the clearing. The foundation had been laid and the walls had begun on his new home. The trees had been cleared and the gravel laid for the pathway to the forest. The mountains nearby promised rich ore for the duergar of Clan Blindhammer, and with the wild woods on nearly all sides, secrecy and privacy were almost insured to the duergar by all but the unwary and unlucky.

Strange, thought Artikerus, how at home a Duergar could actually feel back on the surface..

------------------
King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
---------------
Kiaransalee responds to your petition with 'I have no opinion, keeps me out of trouble.'

[Deshana]

another great tale Evika, I can't wait for the rest.
*g* take a closer look at Necasio though.. his ears are pointy.
*g* maybe you can round them a little.. *stare*

Deshie

[bimble]

I've been asked lots of questions about how I view orcs and why Evika does the things she does lately. So here goes a bit of the behind the scenes stuff:

Orcs arent very smart, even if they have a 95 int, I think they are not as bright as other races. Alone they are almost always lesser beings than the other races, at least they think so. Not until they are grouped with hundreds or thousands of thier kind do they feel the power of thier kind. Lots of that is due to Gruumsh (sp?) who pretty much keeps them in a breeding program to fuel his wars with other gods. Life expectancy for a orc is much less than given on Sojourn3, Evika is 40 yrs old - getting old I would bet. For the most part they are tolerant of other evil races - for they tend to be thier minions, and very xenophobic of the good races to the point they almost ignore any differences between them. Females more so than males since thier lives are solely for the use of males. Females have no value in Orcish society other than reproduction, and thats how the males and Orc gods want it. They see less, are more with drawn and fearful and usually fear almost everything - thier best hope is to die in early childbirth. Revenge however is a staple of males/females and the entire race so is treachery among themselves and others.

Evika is not afaid to fight, but picks them to win. Things like honor and code have little to do with her - fleeing and survival are more valuable. She tends to gloss over the details of things and stick to the simple fundamentals she knows. Like the smells of things, the tastes, the value - whether it can be turned to her advantage or for that matter ruined for others. At the same time she might view a beautiful crafted wagon as a garish gypsy monster, or a beautiful high bred woman from waterdeep as a painted clown. Just because she doesnt look at those details very smartly. Food, shelter and revenge are the prime things to view with clarity.

Whats the worst race in the orc view? Humans, they breed competitively like orcs - direct competition.

Deshie! thanks for the comment. I looked ol'Necasio over pretty good to find that Red-Tail connection. He treats the ladies pretty good when he RP's also! (my first character was a goodie and he treated me like a queen!) I'll think about giving his pointy ears back! LOL At least I did give him the contrast of light against Nilans dark. Maybe I should take Nilans ears also! *snicker*

Evika

[Clan Blindhammer]

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by bimble:
<B>I've been asked lots of questions about how I view orcs and why Evika does the things she does lately. So here goes a bit of the behind the scenes stuff:
------
Maybe I should take Nilans ears also! *snicker*

Evika</B></font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

I often wonder about yer posts as well, ye underfed gnoll. Ye attribute a lot o keen wits to a wee beastie such as yeself, and I'm not fer believin' fer one bit that an orc could e'er best any o'er race in single combat.
-----------
That said, I think you do very well Evika, your style is good for the character. I do wonder sometimes where your inspiration comes for using some people. I haven't even spoken to Necasio in several years..since I played an elf myself (gasp, duergar, gasp!)
----------
And that fer bein' sed, the dark elf's more of a painted gnome than ye think. Mayhaps ye should be enlargin' the foolheaded orcbrained surfacelovin' elfs nose afore ye be usin' 'em in yer next story.
-----------

-tackle Nilan- You know you're still my hero

------------------
King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
---------------
Kiaransalee responds to your petition with 'I have no opinion, keeps me out of trouble.'

[Deshana]

Och, havnae ye done enough tae t'puir mons nose? Breaking it and all, leave 'im be Arti, afore I come for ye, and not in the way ye be thinkin.

The winds of change are blowing, Nose to the wind and ear to the ground, be watchin yon tender backs, all o ye. What has been may no longer be.

'Shana, Silver Walker.

[Clan Blindhammer]

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by Deshana:
<B>Och, havnae ye done enough tae t'puir mons nose? Breaking it and all, leave 'im be Arti, afore I come for ye, and not in the way ye be thinkin.

The winds of change are blowing, Nose to the wind and ear to the ground, be watchin yon tender backs, all o ye. What has been may no longer be.

'Shana, Silver Walker.</B></font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Deshana, Pirate Druid of Waterdeep?!?

------------------
King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
---------------
Kiaransalee responds to your petition with 'I have no opinion, keeps me out of trouble.'