HHE5: Interlude - Sat 01/08/15 21:15 UTC
Somewhere south-east of Axis...
The crescent moon stood out against the night like a luminous sickle with dark blue patterning.
In the clearing below, iridescent energy rose from the ground, wavering and curling, uncurling, like soft fronds in an undersea current. Its light was at once purplish-blue, shifting into scintillating white as it moved.
Raw magic energy, rising around a circle of fallen, rough-hewn stone megaliths, overgrown with verdure. A power node, a ruin from a far earlier age where ley lines intersected.
The Iron Skull stood in the centre of the circle, the magic energy snaking up its armoured legs, slipping into the joints and coursing through its body.
Around the clearing loafed its orcs. They were brutish looking creatures, tall humanoids with ape-like faces, similar to Heilbutt's. But whereas the half-orc's skin was smooth and his hair soft and tawny, these orcs had wrinkled, leathery faces, red raw and peeling from sunburn, and thick, coarse black hair, growing in manes around their heads and shoulders. They were a filthy, dishevelled bunch, most wearing loin clothes and overlapping, leather armoured sleeves on their dominant arms.
They grunted, bellowed and yammered at each other in a crude pidgin language. Some argued and wrestled, some swigged from skins or tore at handfuls of dried food. Some squatted and relieved themselves, one throwing his own turd at a comrade, starting a scuffle that rapidly spread with howls of either rage or delight. Yet it was curbed violence, no eyes gouged, genitals bitten off or heads smashed in, and no shivving.
Orcs came in many earthy colours, with many different features. Some people believed the mark of an orc's misdeeds was written on its face, and so varied were the crimes of orcs that no two looked alike. It was said that orcs could sprout from the ground in places of terrible calamity. But it was also said that settlements of humans and elves, descended into depravity, had mutated into orcs in past times.
All could be true, for two things were certain. All orcs were ugly as sin, and all of them were wicked.
Walking by, the wickedest of the Iron Skull's orcs kicked one of the wrestlers in the arse, sending him sprawling back into the fray.
None of the other orcs would challenge their wickedest. He had a large fleshy sac around his throat, that inflated when he bawled, and bristling grey side whiskers. His yellowy teeth were chipped, some glinting with gold. Like the rest of his ilk, his eyes were whiteless but not as dark, being an amber hue light enough to see the pupils. What distinguished him the most though was the crossed twin axes, scarred deep into his face, from forehead to cheekbones. The Axes of Impurity, the sign of the Orc Lord's favour, one of his chieftains.
Although he was fearsome enough to impose himself over the orcs, the chieftain still hesitated before entering the stone circle, bearing his teeth in frustration at his own fear.
"Your orcs grow restless, O Hunter-Killer." He growled, "Have you scried our quarry? What do the streams of magic tell?"
"She lives," said the Iron Skull, its voice hollow and metallic, "saved by a passing ship. Yes. The Fey cloud the magic here with their madness, but it is clear she lives..."
Punching one of the nearby stones, the chieftain rumbled in excitement, his throat sac ballooning.
The Iron Skull continued, "She made new friends on the ship and chose to stay with them. The ship is bound... for Santa Cora."
The orc chieftain gasped, "Then she is lost!!"
The forgeborn turned its eyeless, skeletal face to the chieftain. How did it see when it had no eyes, no eye sockets? It looked upon the chieftain either way, and the orc lowered his gaze.
"I said 'she lives'. She is not lost. I will lead this band westward to the road and from there south to Horizon. If her ship does not call in that city, we will find a ship of our own.
"You Lermoriach, will take a scouting party, scour the coast. If Seyja jumps ship, you will track her down and report back to me."
Lermoriach nodded, bearing his teeth again. "And slaughter any that stand in our way."
The crescent moon stood out against the night like a luminous sickle with dark blue patterning.
In the clearing below, iridescent energy rose from the ground, wavering and curling, uncurling, like soft fronds in an undersea current. Its light was at once purplish-blue, shifting into scintillating white as it moved.
Raw magic energy, rising around a circle of fallen, rough-hewn stone megaliths, overgrown with verdure. A power node, a ruin from a far earlier age where ley lines intersected.
The Iron Skull stood in the centre of the circle, the magic energy snaking up its armoured legs, slipping into the joints and coursing through its body.
Around the clearing loafed its orcs. They were brutish looking creatures, tall humanoids with ape-like faces, similar to Heilbutt's. But whereas the half-orc's skin was smooth and his hair soft and tawny, these orcs had wrinkled, leathery faces, red raw and peeling from sunburn, and thick, coarse black hair, growing in manes around their heads and shoulders. They were a filthy, dishevelled bunch, most wearing loin clothes and overlapping, leather armoured sleeves on their dominant arms.
They grunted, bellowed and yammered at each other in a crude pidgin language. Some argued and wrestled, some swigged from skins or tore at handfuls of dried food. Some squatted and relieved themselves, one throwing his own turd at a comrade, starting a scuffle that rapidly spread with howls of either rage or delight. Yet it was curbed violence, no eyes gouged, genitals bitten off or heads smashed in, and no shivving.
Orcs came in many earthy colours, with many different features. Some people believed the mark of an orc's misdeeds was written on its face, and so varied were the crimes of orcs that no two looked alike. It was said that orcs could sprout from the ground in places of terrible calamity. But it was also said that settlements of humans and elves, descended into depravity, had mutated into orcs in past times.
All could be true, for two things were certain. All orcs were ugly as sin, and all of them were wicked.
Walking by, the wickedest of the Iron Skull's orcs kicked one of the wrestlers in the arse, sending him sprawling back into the fray.
None of the other orcs would challenge their wickedest. He had a large fleshy sac around his throat, that inflated when he bawled, and bristling grey side whiskers. His yellowy teeth were chipped, some glinting with gold. Like the rest of his ilk, his eyes were whiteless but not as dark, being an amber hue light enough to see the pupils. What distinguished him the most though was the crossed twin axes, scarred deep into his face, from forehead to cheekbones. The Axes of Impurity, the sign of the Orc Lord's favour, one of his chieftains.
Although he was fearsome enough to impose himself over the orcs, the chieftain still hesitated before entering the stone circle, bearing his teeth in frustration at his own fear.
"Your orcs grow restless, O Hunter-Killer." He growled, "Have you scried our quarry? What do the streams of magic tell?"
"She lives," said the Iron Skull, its voice hollow and metallic, "saved by a passing ship. Yes. The Fey cloud the magic here with their madness, but it is clear she lives..."
Punching one of the nearby stones, the chieftain rumbled in excitement, his throat sac ballooning.
The Iron Skull continued, "She made new friends on the ship and chose to stay with them. The ship is bound... for Santa Cora."
The orc chieftain gasped, "Then she is lost!!"
The forgeborn turned its eyeless, skeletal face to the chieftain. How did it see when it had no eyes, no eye sockets? It looked upon the chieftain either way, and the orc lowered his gaze.
"I said 'she lives'. She is not lost. I will lead this band westward to the road and from there south to Horizon. If her ship does not call in that city, we will find a ship of our own.
"You Lermoriach, will take a scouting party, scour the coast. If Seyja jumps ship, you will track her down and report back to me."
Lermoriach nodded, bearing his teeth again. "And slaughter any that stand in our way."