Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Dec 29, 2015 1:26:31 GMT -5
The inside of the chieftain’s lodge was much warmer than the rapidly cooling air outside, thanks to the large, round fire pit in the center of the main room, and was a welcome refuge to be sure, as thunder began to rumble close by once more. A female orc was tending what appeared to be a deer carcase roasting over the fire pit, brushing it with some kind of sauce. Compared to the large lower jaws of the male orcs, those of the females were closer in size to those of humans and presented much smaller tusks.
She and Chieftain Koresh exchanged nods as he walked past the fire pit, heading towards the back of the lodge. The inside of the lodge seemed to hold a similar circular profile to the outside, with curved log walls, and animal skin or fur draperies over the entrances to most rooms. Various types of animal heads adorned the walls of the main room. Different types of deer, a large boar, several sabre cats, a bear, and the chieftain’s throne like seat, opposite the main entrance, was made of a collection of troll bones, the massive skull of a common troll resting top center of the backrest. Furs covered the seat and armrests. Behind the massive seat of bones was a heavy, log door leading to the Chieftain’s war room, where official business would be conducted.
As Koresh approached the door to the war room one of the fur draperies over another door to the right flung open, and a young orc boy, of a light brown complexion similar to him, came running over carrying a small black warg pup. He looked to only be about five or six years old, with thin, black hair atop his head, and barely visible tusks protruding from his mouth.
“Romkath!” he said with a smile as he took Triest’s hand.
She squeezed his hand lightly and smiled. “It’s good to see you Koroth, but we’re about to talk business with your father. Run along, and I’ll see you in a bit before bed.”
“Alright!” he exclaimed with a wide grin, before hurrying back into the room he had come out of, past the fur drapery.
Koresh chuckled lightly as he opened the heavy log door leading into his war room and led the way inside. He took a torch from the wall just inside, and lit two others around the room. There was a large table in the center of the room, the top a cross section cut of some massive sized tree. The legs of the table appeared to be troll bones much like some of the larger ones that made up parts of the chieftain’s seat out in the main room.
Triest closed the door behind them and then walked up to the table, and began glancing over the animal skin map that lay stretched out across it.
“So, where does this important quest take you?” Koresh asked, in his gruff, yet wise voice.
“Ruins to the east of here, an ancient Quixarian city called Exgamare,” Triest responded. “I’m aware of its general location map wise, but I’ve never actually been there before.”
“The ancient slaver city?” he asked, sounding surprised. “What could you possibly want in that accursed place?”
“Well, it’s the only ruin from that era that we’re aware of that is still intact. We’re hoping to find clues, anything that might lead us to the Lost Archives of Zark.”
“Ah, yes,” the Chieftain said with a slight chuckle. “The mythical archives of the Quixarian Empire, where all of their history and dark, magical secrets were supposedly kept. No one knows for certain if that place even exists. You’re chasing after myths and legends.”
“Agrius believes otherwise. The sheer lack of historical information about the valley from that era alone suggests that they must have kept it all somewhere, someplace that they went to great lengths to hide.”
“Perhaps,” Koresh responded simply. “I don’t know what you expect to find about such a well hidden place, if it exists, amongst the ruins of an old slaver city.” He moved to a wooden chest in the corner, the old metal hinges squeaking harshly as he opened it. The Chieftain returned to the table with an old, worn book that looked like a simple journal, likely kept by some adventurer. “If you’re going in there you’ll need a guide,” he said as he placed the old journal on the table in front of Triest. “Unfortunately I know of few who have ventured there and returned, and of those that have, still fewer will likely be willing to go back. All that I can offer you is this exploratory guide. In the morning I will have Gorak and some of his men escort you to where you can see the ruined city, but beyond that,” he shook his head. “I fear you will be on your own.”
“Thank you,” Triest offered, as they exchanged another forearm shake.
“Now, we eat!” the Chieftain exclaimed, as he headed out the door in a much lighter mood, Triest following him closely. She slid the worn journal into her satchel, hidden beneath her cloak, for safe keeping before she and Celevire entered back into the main room. As Chieftain Koresh took a seat upon his throne of troll bones, Triest sat at the small table between him and the fire pit. Meanwhile, the female orc at the fire pit was serving up some kind of deer stew into wooden bowls.
“Koroth! Dinner is about to be served!” Koresh called out to his son, who immediately came in from the other room, and plopped down at the table next to Triest, a big smile on his face.
Triest motioned for Celevire to sit across the table from her just as the front doors to the lodge opened, Gorak having returned, followed by a young female orc that looked to be in her early teens. Gorak immediately walked across the room and to the side of the chieftain’s seat and brought his fist to his heart once more. “Chieftain.”
“Nothing more tonight Gorak, won’t you and your daughter join us for dinner?” Koresh asked.
“Certainly!” Gorak responded heartily before proceeding to the table and heavily plopping down on the bench to the right of Celevire. “Smells delicious!” he exclaimed, prompting a smile from the female orc at the fire pit, who was nearly finished serving up the stew.
The female orc in her teens sat to the right of Triest, and they shared a forearm shake and nods of recognition. “Good to see you again Romkath.” Her voice had a slightly raspy contour to it.
“And you, Mekesh,” Triest responded warmly.
“Can I show you the axe and warg pup father gave me after dinner Romkath?” Koroth suddenly asked.
“If your father doesn’t mind, then certainly,” Triest responded with a smile, ruffling the hair on his head lightly and rousing a giggle from the boy.
Just minutes later the female orc left the fire pit with a large bowl of stew and handed it to the Chieftain in his seat, and he responded with a gracious nod. She then placed a smaller bowl of stew in front of everyone at the table. It was common custom for the Chieftain to be presented with a larger portion of food than his guests, but the smaller portions were far from meager. The stew was hot, and presented an inviting, meaty aroma, contrasting the common misconception, primarily amongst humans, that orcs ate slop like farm animals do. Once everyone was served, the orcs all bowed their heads slightly, eyes closed, and recited some kind of orcish prayer involving the name Mog. The name was likely unknown to Celevire, but Triest knew of the ancient orc leader that led the Ukresh orcs to the shores of the valley from somewhere across the sea. It was a legend several thousand years old, but still of vital importance to Ukresh culture. Triest joined in and recited the entire piece with them, which was allowed since she was an honorary blood sister. She was well versed in their language and culture and knew she was likely one of very few humans to be honored with such knowledge.
When the prayer was finished there were a few seconds of silence before everyone began eating, using hefty wooden spoons that had been placed in each bowl.
She and Chieftain Koresh exchanged nods as he walked past the fire pit, heading towards the back of the lodge. The inside of the lodge seemed to hold a similar circular profile to the outside, with curved log walls, and animal skin or fur draperies over the entrances to most rooms. Various types of animal heads adorned the walls of the main room. Different types of deer, a large boar, several sabre cats, a bear, and the chieftain’s throne like seat, opposite the main entrance, was made of a collection of troll bones, the massive skull of a common troll resting top center of the backrest. Furs covered the seat and armrests. Behind the massive seat of bones was a heavy, log door leading to the Chieftain’s war room, where official business would be conducted.
As Koresh approached the door to the war room one of the fur draperies over another door to the right flung open, and a young orc boy, of a light brown complexion similar to him, came running over carrying a small black warg pup. He looked to only be about five or six years old, with thin, black hair atop his head, and barely visible tusks protruding from his mouth.
“Romkath!” he said with a smile as he took Triest’s hand.
She squeezed his hand lightly and smiled. “It’s good to see you Koroth, but we’re about to talk business with your father. Run along, and I’ll see you in a bit before bed.”
“Alright!” he exclaimed with a wide grin, before hurrying back into the room he had come out of, past the fur drapery.
Koresh chuckled lightly as he opened the heavy log door leading into his war room and led the way inside. He took a torch from the wall just inside, and lit two others around the room. There was a large table in the center of the room, the top a cross section cut of some massive sized tree. The legs of the table appeared to be troll bones much like some of the larger ones that made up parts of the chieftain’s seat out in the main room.
Triest closed the door behind them and then walked up to the table, and began glancing over the animal skin map that lay stretched out across it.
“So, where does this important quest take you?” Koresh asked, in his gruff, yet wise voice.
“Ruins to the east of here, an ancient Quixarian city called Exgamare,” Triest responded. “I’m aware of its general location map wise, but I’ve never actually been there before.”
“The ancient slaver city?” he asked, sounding surprised. “What could you possibly want in that accursed place?”
“Well, it’s the only ruin from that era that we’re aware of that is still intact. We’re hoping to find clues, anything that might lead us to the Lost Archives of Zark.”
“Ah, yes,” the Chieftain said with a slight chuckle. “The mythical archives of the Quixarian Empire, where all of their history and dark, magical secrets were supposedly kept. No one knows for certain if that place even exists. You’re chasing after myths and legends.”
“Agrius believes otherwise. The sheer lack of historical information about the valley from that era alone suggests that they must have kept it all somewhere, someplace that they went to great lengths to hide.”
“Perhaps,” Koresh responded simply. “I don’t know what you expect to find about such a well hidden place, if it exists, amongst the ruins of an old slaver city.” He moved to a wooden chest in the corner, the old metal hinges squeaking harshly as he opened it. The Chieftain returned to the table with an old, worn book that looked like a simple journal, likely kept by some adventurer. “If you’re going in there you’ll need a guide,” he said as he placed the old journal on the table in front of Triest. “Unfortunately I know of few who have ventured there and returned, and of those that have, still fewer will likely be willing to go back. All that I can offer you is this exploratory guide. In the morning I will have Gorak and some of his men escort you to where you can see the ruined city, but beyond that,” he shook his head. “I fear you will be on your own.”
“Thank you,” Triest offered, as they exchanged another forearm shake.
“Now, we eat!” the Chieftain exclaimed, as he headed out the door in a much lighter mood, Triest following him closely. She slid the worn journal into her satchel, hidden beneath her cloak, for safe keeping before she and Celevire entered back into the main room. As Chieftain Koresh took a seat upon his throne of troll bones, Triest sat at the small table between him and the fire pit. Meanwhile, the female orc at the fire pit was serving up some kind of deer stew into wooden bowls.
“Koroth! Dinner is about to be served!” Koresh called out to his son, who immediately came in from the other room, and plopped down at the table next to Triest, a big smile on his face.
Triest motioned for Celevire to sit across the table from her just as the front doors to the lodge opened, Gorak having returned, followed by a young female orc that looked to be in her early teens. Gorak immediately walked across the room and to the side of the chieftain’s seat and brought his fist to his heart once more. “Chieftain.”
“Nothing more tonight Gorak, won’t you and your daughter join us for dinner?” Koresh asked.
“Certainly!” Gorak responded heartily before proceeding to the table and heavily plopping down on the bench to the right of Celevire. “Smells delicious!” he exclaimed, prompting a smile from the female orc at the fire pit, who was nearly finished serving up the stew.
The female orc in her teens sat to the right of Triest, and they shared a forearm shake and nods of recognition. “Good to see you again Romkath.” Her voice had a slightly raspy contour to it.
“And you, Mekesh,” Triest responded warmly.
“Can I show you the axe and warg pup father gave me after dinner Romkath?” Koroth suddenly asked.
“If your father doesn’t mind, then certainly,” Triest responded with a smile, ruffling the hair on his head lightly and rousing a giggle from the boy.
Just minutes later the female orc left the fire pit with a large bowl of stew and handed it to the Chieftain in his seat, and he responded with a gracious nod. She then placed a smaller bowl of stew in front of everyone at the table. It was common custom for the Chieftain to be presented with a larger portion of food than his guests, but the smaller portions were far from meager. The stew was hot, and presented an inviting, meaty aroma, contrasting the common misconception, primarily amongst humans, that orcs ate slop like farm animals do. Once everyone was served, the orcs all bowed their heads slightly, eyes closed, and recited some kind of orcish prayer involving the name Mog. The name was likely unknown to Celevire, but Triest knew of the ancient orc leader that led the Ukresh orcs to the shores of the valley from somewhere across the sea. It was a legend several thousand years old, but still of vital importance to Ukresh culture. Triest joined in and recited the entire piece with them, which was allowed since she was an honorary blood sister. She was well versed in their language and culture and knew she was likely one of very few humans to be honored with such knowledge.
When the prayer was finished there were a few seconds of silence before everyone began eating, using hefty wooden spoons that had been placed in each bowl.