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[Senshuken]

The arrival at Blackhold

While many of the younger orcs do not know the full extent of it, our people as a whole are in a truly bad position. The wars that ended less that twenty years before I was born left horrific scars and wounds that marked our whole race. The “reservations” that our people were forced into along with all the minor enemies that crave out a living in such cursed place has prevented us from being able to properly heal the wounds that our people have suffered, resulting in almost a century of being bled out. My whole life I have watched as the slow death took our people with every siege and every engagement that claimed the lives of one of ours. The only thing worse than seeing a brother in arms fall to vermin that should have been burned out long ago is to see the bodies of dead orcs due to the infighting within our own holds!

I have spent my life trying to fend off our enemies within and without from ending us once and for all and I have a strong mate and four pups to our union to show for it. Many in my position would retire to live in their chosen hold, spending their twilight years performing other, less dangerous tasks than being part of an active military. However, before my body is laid to rest in the realm of Uduump I still have work to do. Quite recently, I heard of the newest hold of Thashumghoshakh that was being created outside of the reservations. What little I have heard of it so far is good. Perhaps this is a sign from Gashuurz that she is still trying to help her chosen children even after all this time. If this is the case, I shall use my last few decades in this life to ensure that Gashuurz's attempts to give our people the chance to heal from the wars fought so long succeed!

Shortly after my arrival I was given a club. When I asked to be given a firearm, I was 'persuaded' quite expertly into using it. A brief look around and some conversations afterwards reveled that we don't have the ability to produce firearms here at this point in time. I have mentioned to our warchief that after we've secured enough supplies to last double our number three months and set up at least some basic defenses, we need to start producing weapons of all kinds. Our enemies are many and they will do everything in their power to ensure that our people remain at a disadvantage because they rightly fear what we can do in an even fight!

There is only one way to deal with an enemy for We Are Orcs! By steel or stone or magic or with our fists and teeth we will crush them where they stand!         

[Monitor Lisard]

The following passage is clearly written by a "less-then-dabbling" writer. The pages are covered with stains and clumsy drawings. The paper is of sub-mediocre quality and inks seem to be mixed with dirt.

"Fom ze diary of Gradbul ze Snak Eater:

Hello diar diary! I herd that the words abov are needed wenever you rite ze entry... Anyvay thing are goin great sinse new pals arrived! One of them give me book to help me wit grammer and... How do I call zis? Speling yeh! And tis guy iz an uruk, names Sensu... Senshu... Dont remember aktually. Hes a good ork, I think. The boss told me to threaten him wit my club. I hope he wuz not offended.

Let me chek it firts...

Alright, tis was helpful! At least, now I know what "Spellin" is! And yeah, I also had many other things to hit wit my big club! Big spiny things! But Grudbul is not scared of anything, with friends like that! Bolugd and I make a pretty gud team! I was also told to dig the rooms. Now I know wat it feels to be a dwarf. Tis is a strange thought, cuz dwarfs are small, and Grudbul is big. There arent many shiny stones here..."

[Senshuken]

Senshuken is one of the Uruk's. I don't believe he is a Dreamwalker... I'm pretty sure he isn't anyway.

[Monitor Lisard]

Senshuken is one of the Uruk's. I don't believe he is a Dreamwalker... I'm pretty sure he isn't anyway.

Oops, my bad. Thanks, I'll rewrite that part a bit.

[Senshuken]

It's fine.

Hopefully Sen will live long enough for us to start making firearms. As ironic and fun and beating elves to death with a piece of wood would be, I would rather just put the tree huggers down with a minimum of fuss so we can get ready for the real threats.

[Shadow Of Fate]

This looks rather interesting. Sign me up for a battleaxe wielding woodcutter/soldier called Gorlshk. Male Uruk or Ork if possible. This way I can contribute to the wood supply to the building project and at the same time also fight as a soldier.

[Nidor]

Dang, guess I wasn't watching close enough, missed the topic lol. If we get another Male Olog I'd like to claim one, though they are a bit rare.

[Splint]

This looks rather interesting. Sign me up for a battleaxe wielding woodcutter/soldier called Gorlshk. Male Uruk or Ork if possible. This way I can contribute to the wood supply to the building project and at the same time also fight as a soldier.

Dang, guess I wasn't watching close enough, missed the topic lol. If we get another Male Olog I'd like to claim one, though they are a bit rare.

Gotcha both on the waiting list. Contributions updated, and an update is coming via the journal of Corsair Krimbur!

[Splint]

-This is a marble bound journal, with the name “Krimbur” in dwarven runes, and “Corsair of Blackhold” in human letters. It's a very weighty book, and it's clear the owner spent much time among members of the dwarven legion or humans as a mercenary or brigand.-

20th Malachite, 122

My meat's been tasting off for the last few days. Someone's mixing dirt or worse into it and I think I know who.

21st Malachite, 122

Confronted Bolugd and got punched for my trouble. Never a good idea to confront a drunken uruk. The others laughed, my husband offered to make an unflattering statue, his novice skill to make it more insulting.

Declined. Told much of the meat would be legally his in the old times as he struck down the game.



One of the commons has surprising skill with masonry. Quick to carve stone to blocks. Plans for a barracks are laid by the warchief. I ask why one wall isn't solid, and he tells me he wants windows. I asked what for, and he says because he saw them in a human town, bandit controlled one. Can see the reasoning. Windows are some of the nicer things invented by man and dwarf, and better clear windows require trees be murdered. Usually, anyway.

25th Malachite, 122

Saw many dead frogs and newts. Got an idea, and told husband to make a grate. Asked why, and said to build a means to make ash. Bolugd expressed concern that a stone club, while more than sufficient for the olog with his great strength, would not be in the hands of an uruk or even common orc. The solution is to craft new blades for them both.



Palu has the knowledge, but requires fuel and ingredients. They will both be provided.

14th Galena, 122



The elder council's promised supply caravan has come. As I can tell, there is too little for us to trade. Palu went to change this with the ample bone we possess.

A pack of dire wolves made their presence known to the caravan's fletchette gunner. Not orcish, but still mighty pack hunters. Also among the animals lead here for sale to us, is a breeding pair of mighty mumaks!



Bolugd tasked the olog with striking down the dire wolves. And this evening the olog returned angry, saying the caravan took the kills that should have been his. He killed one, the caravan axeorcs slaying the other two, saying they “wanted to help” an orc who needed none. Bolugd has not stopped glaring at them with scorn since.

17th Galena, 122

Morbai takes the role of speaker for the clan. Some protested and said I should do so, but I pointed out she has greater skills as a speaker and negotiator than I.

-

The caravan brought aluminum, steel, and platinum. No hope to purchase the mumaks. Too expensive. Would have to sacrifice armor for our own warriors to pay for even one. Morbai ettled for more varied drink and the metals, as well as a sabercat.

1st Limestone, 122

Monthly celebration begins, and Senshuken challenges Bolugd and Gradbul to a drinking contest. Senshuken bests both, as Bolugd vomits from brew-induced disorientation and Gradbul lifts a barrel too far and the soaked barrel slips in his hands, getting it stuck on his upper body.

I am challenged to a dart competition by the caravan fletchette gunner and our snaga, except for my husband. I best them all, and walk away with a hefty sack of shillings! The fools should know not to compete with a Corsair in skills with guns and darts.


Tada! Another shorty. So, this quick little update which covered the rest of summer, we got a barracks and crematorium mostly built, depot up, did some trade, got a replacement suit of armor made for the incomplete one we sold to the caravaneers, and we began gathering the means to make some ironbone Macuahuitl for Bolugd and Senshuken. Gradbul doesn't really need a new weapon, that maul's been doing just fine on the local wildlife and most of that is bigger than a strangler or elf. I'd go for bloodsteel, but we're painfully short on barrels to hold blood and a lot of that wood's been going to making lamellar leather for armor and weapons.

We scored some crafting metals, some ashland glass, a bar of steel, copper, and bronze. Palu and that uruk are gonna be busy for a time. Kinda bummed we couldn't buy the mumaks, but considering their sheer size and apparently generally grumpy demeanor I can understand why they cost so much.

Anyways, I'm super eager for our first real fight though! Can't wait to see our little trio wade through the enemy. It'll probably be in winter the way things are going, and my money's on either stranglers or beak wolves, and I'm happy for it. Normally those two races are least likely to survive and I know for a fact our civ obliterated a strangler one. They'll be a nice warm up for the clan.

[Senshuken]

Never try to out drink an old orc...

My father once told me 'Never get into a drinking contest with an old orc. The only thing that has seen enough of the world to match them in trying to forget most of it by drinking are elder dwarfs.' And boy did I prove him right! Those young brutes can't hold their booze!

While he might not be the sharpest spear in the elf, Gradbul does seem to have a spark of intelligence about him. If given the chance, I suspect he might surprise a great many people... I'm attempting to teach him how to write and what I've seen so far is very promising. He hasn't attempted to eat the paper or drink the ink and what he writes is at least understandable. Good signs all of them. 

[Splint]

Another update's coming soon, and Shadow of Fate is it alright if your orc uses a spear instead? Can't make any axes without an anvil and we already have the spear made.

[Splint]

A month passes without incident in Blackhold. Early autumn comes and goes. The orcs used the time as a month of rest, and are surprised to see shapes on the hill: Clanorcs come from the north. Survivors of a terrible war with the badger clans. 10 in all. Mostly snaga and commons.

Horrible stories came with them.

Only 35 of their old clan remain along the shore of the smouldering blueness, waiting for the badgermen to finish them off and having vowed to slay as many as they could. They were sustained in their travels by their leader, Gorlshk, who had found all manner of edible plants and was considered a great herbalist, one able to match any man or elf in the skill.

Morbai, seeing these new faces, decided the small cots would no longer be sufficent. She took the two unskilled members of the band, a snaga and common orc, and told them to start helping carve rock. Lugbok was ordered to clear trees for space. A large building was to be made, one to house the clan.



Work began on it, using whatever blocks were at hand, when one of the new arrivals, Krat Narakkrat, began to stare at one of the bundles of shale bricks. He then dropped the sack, and took off at a dead run, bowling over someone's dire wolf pup, swatted a condor chick out of his path and bolted down the mineshaft.



Gnarled roots, hard as rock. Two whole shale boulders. A handful of  uncut rose quartz. And two days later, he emerged.

This is a gnarled roots statue of Gazga Masterlying.  All craftsorcship is of the highest quality. 

The item is a masterfully designed  image of Gazga Masterlying the dreamwalker and orcs in gnarled roots by Krat Narakkrat.  Gazga Masterlying is  surrounded by the orcs. 
The artwork relates to the ascension of the dreamwalker Gazga Masterlying to the position of great clanmother of The Rusty Evils in 102. 

It is encrusted with rectangular shale cabochons and octagon cut rose quartzes. 
On the item is an  image of a loaf of bread in gnarled roots. 
On the item is an  image of two oaks in shale. 
 

A statue of quality even the finest dwarven masons could barely hope to match. The great clanmother who had allowed Blackhold to even be founded was who it depicted, and there was much rejoicing.

-

Timber comes, and with it blades of ironbone set in wood. Bolugd and Senshuken are pleased, and raise many praises in the following days for Palu, the one who made them. In recognition of his role as a leader of a wounded clan, the recent arrival Gorlshk is given the role of leader of more warriors.



Coyote roam, and so the warriors set out to hunt them. The uruks are eager to test their new blades, while Gradbul happily desires only to follow his friend into battle. They set out, and the uruks slay two each. The olog none, due to his sluggishness but he seems unbothered by it.

Stone runs out in this month, and the miners set to work getting more. The main hall cannot be finished without it. Plans are made and a drydock is desired, two of them. The brook though shallow, provides enough water to move the boats to the shore, and from there passing raiders can be convinced to head for the remains of The Scorpions of Incinerating and other ruined deep holds, merchant shipping, and elsewhere for Blackhold.

Longnight comes, and giant kiwis roam the region. The steppe aurochs herd grows slowly but surely. The main hall's lower floor is fully enclosed, and totems rise, on platforms of raw wood.





The temple's construction begins with this, but the souls of elves, and a goblin who knows the ways of the sawmill are still needed. Morbai is filled with bride as the totems are raised, and infuriated when the waterways and ponds freeze over. But it said that it could be far worse. The air carries a chill, but no snow falls.

As Gemstone comes, so do languars. Hateful, excrement flinging creatures, little better than the stranglers that befoul the swamps and woods of the reservations. Even a decade of constant bloodshed with those foul monsters failed to clear them all, and these cretins reminded them too much of their pest-like foe.



Languar heads are crushed with stone and bodies severed with ironbone, the bodies quickly taken in to be sheared of flesh to feed the clan, and the clan celebrates the prevented thefts they would have done to their armories.

Meals are prepared, primarily of meat fried or stewed in tallow. Another Uruk joins the warband, taking up a toothed spear made by the now praised Palu. All are eager for battle, though one of the five warriors demands he be given an axe. With no other weapons available however, they issue him a shale club. He is irritated, but understands the necessity: A good orc warrior is always armed, even if it is a weapon he doesn't like.

Morbai holds a vote, and the warriors receive the first private rooms, built into the main hall.

Spring comes soon after, and as always there is much celebration! Darts are thrown, and notes denoting who owes who orcish shillings, Senshuken crushed competition at drink, and Numrakin the Snaga gets a snappy squig latched to her head on a dare.

As the water thaws, a space is cleared: A drydock will be made ready. Though the winters  have shown impossible to send out ships and negotiators, the rest of the year small raiding boats can be deployed once they've the shillings to pay.



On the 9th of Commonrock, of Granite, or March, the young hold sees its first marriage. To the surprise of all, it is the odd Clan leader Morbai and the Warcheif!



As the month ends, Morbai makes it known she wants a place for the dreamwalkers to reside, to commune with the ancestors, command the elements, and if needed, summon the spirits of the dreaded barrows, the fell draugr, to fill their enemies remains and destroy the fools who remain.

Migrants come, not a week into graystone. 22 in all. Many proclaimed skill as axeorcs, even snaga, and most were crushed to hear the hold had no axes. By the month's end, the drydock is nearly complete, only for violent apes to destroy it soon after. The warriors mobilized, and destoryed the sasquatches responsible for hard work lost.



Bolugd slays them all, by sheer virtue of speed. Fortune has the materials not scattered, and it will be a quick reconstruction. Not long after, a child is born, and it crushes the parents. A snaga, born to a powerful Uruk and a dreamwalker. They will care for the pitiful snaga, but it is unclear if they will ever truly love it.

As lavarock approaches and goes on, the drydock is rebuilt, and all is well, and the goblins come to trade.





But then, trouble, as it often does, follows the caravans.





Stranglers, hot on the heels of the merchants' wagon trolls! The warriors arm themselves, and rush to the little cousins' aid. The goblins, though feeble have luck on their side that they face such creatures and not the vicious beakwolves or blendecs. They were outnumbered, but they charged anyway, showing the same resolve in the face of danger as any greenskin should!

However this does not give the clanorcs any sense of joy. The stranglers flee before even harming a goblin, and Gradbul who for once would have been first to the fray, decides local wolves who are too skittish to be a threat are better game and chases them instead of joining the battle.

It takes all their fortitude to not kill the goblins for stealing any sort of glory to be had from the clash, and Morbai felt little inclination to deal fairly with the goblins. Most, in fact, were in  favor of ignoring them and treating them with the scorn they deserved for taking their chance to face something more substantial than wild dogs and oversized birds.


Okay, so we have another update and I was left frankly? Extremely pissed off. First siege ever and we didn't even get to kill anything. Our population also doubled, which is even more aggravating. Sure, some work got done by building things that aren't mostly-pointless monuments makes for a terrible story. We came her for blood and we're getting nothing fun but rocks. Just fucking rocks that can only be fun for so long and killstealing goblin douches.

It's super tempting to kill the lot of them but I'm abstaining. They do it again though and I'm gutting the caravan. Those  were our invaders damn it. We also got a marriage, a rather crappy fortborn snaga, and... Yeah, pretty much it. We did get some shit built too but I'm still bummed about not getting to kill anything in our first seige unless you count a wild wolf Gradbul thought was more important to kill.

Anyways, stuff happened, killstealing goblins, crap baby, more stuff, I somehow got married, more stuff. Enjoy folks.

[Frontestro]

Can I be ork'd? Preferably as an uruk in the army. Name my guy Zunn or Thrak or something of my like that doesn't really matter. I plan to rp it like he notices the other or is getting cool names and cant think of one himself.

[Splint]

I feel a need to question why we got so godsdamned many axeorcs when we can't even make any axes to start with.

Can I be ork'd? Preferably as an uruk in the army. Name my guy Zunn or Thrak or something of my like that doesn't really matter. I plan to rp it like he notices the other or is getting cool names and cant think of one himself.

Sure thing. I need to review the one I recently drafted. Should be a suitable one.

[Senshuken]

All axe and no play...

More orcs came to challenge me for my drinking title, which only made my victory all the greater!

More of our people have come to Blackhold, seeking the promise of strong walls, full bellies for themselves and their children... and the complete and utter carnage of our enemies.

There is much anger at the fact that the members of the goblin caravan managed to drive off the besieging Stranglers without injury and before we could have a crack at them. Personally, I hold that we can't blame the Goblins for their victory. Those Stranglers were useless cowards that turned tail and fled at the first sign of green skin resistance! If anything, offering their broken, bloody bodies to the gods would have angered them for the uselessness of the offering. Let us wait to stain are weapons with the blood of more worthy enemies than vermin.

Besides, maybe the Goblins will have goods to trade as we can finally have some axes. All this whining is starting to piss me off!