[center][i]8th of Sun’s Height, 4E 205 The Honor of Osinium[/i] King Burkash gro-Nagorm, Orsinium[/center] --- Burkash looked over the assembled warriors, members of tribes from the Dragontails, the Wrothgarians, even the Jeralls. He knew that their predicament was one that was…quite delicate and one of Orcish pride, but he hadn’t expected this much of a turn-out, particularly from the Wrothgarian and Dragontail tribes, considering the fact that those conglomerations of tribes were surrounded by enemies on all sides, even more so than the ones that were in, say, Skyrim. Burkash furrowed his brow, inspecting them in detail. The vast majority of the tribals were berserkers, though there were those amongst them that were heavily armored troops. Good for slightly longer engagements. Burkash looked to Lagash, and took his place on a wooden platform, overlooking the disparate tribals, as well as the forces of Orsinium. War was coming to Orsinium…and he was going to usher it in with a thunderous roar. “Brothers! We have been slighted! Orsinium’s largest smithy has been violated by outlanders, most likely Redguards. I have sent messengers out to your strongholds, to gather forces for retribution. The Code of Malacath demands blood in order to honor this transgression, and we seek to get all of it! Every last drop of blood will be repaid! One way or another!” Burkash looked like the slobbering psychopath that the typically depicted Orc looked like. The tribals looked more than a little impressed, the fact that the King of Orsinium was more than a little upset about the mere idea of someone violating the walls of Orsinium, as well as the sanctity of their forges, was more than a tad impressive. Burkash let out a warcry like a savage animal, and the warriors reciprocated. The Orcs were ready. Now, they lay in wait to prepare. --- [center][i]9th of Sun’s Height, 4E 205 The Favor of Malacath, Part IV[/i] Gurzuk gro-Golmur, The Rift, near Largashbur[/center] --- Gurzuk and his Orcs slogged it into Falkreath Hold, exhausted and worn from a long trip across the forests of Falkreath, as well as into the land of the Rift proper. The band of warriors rested in a small camp away from the road. They knew it was dangerous. They had figured that one out when they were accosted by the bandits in the Falkreath wilderness. “Remember, keep up a constant watch. I don’t want another attack in the night.” The other Orcs nodded, going about their business as they began to set up camp. Skyrim was dangerous, and the Rift didn’t seem to be much different, all things considered. The lot of them sat around their camp fire at night, mulling over the recent stories of the past week or so, in-between the grumbling about the longer-than-expected travel time. One of the less-experienced Orcs piped up, “Did you all hear of the Akaviri invasion while we were on the road? Rumor has it they sacked Windhelm.” The Orcs mulled this over amongst themselves, Gurzuk snorting, “About damned time that someone else becomes the whipping boy of Tamriel, be it from other men or from foreigners…I believe the Narzulbur tribe is in Eastmarch. Hopefully they do not see any issue from the invaders. Only time will tell, however.” The Orcs nodded in agreement, continuing to talk amongst themselves, preparing to make the final push to Largashbur in the morning. --- [center][i]9th of Sun’s Height, 4E 205 Here, in Falkreath[/i] Svari Ice-Heart, Falkreath Hold [/center] --- Svari spat on the dirt of Falkreath, looking out on the forest and her new army, barely trained and out of the cradle of the Orcs. The lot of them were prepped and ready to liberate their homeland, no matter the cost. At the end of the day, it hung over all of them. Svari and Jartod, Divines be willing, would fight. Ultimately, one shall stand, and one shall fall. Svari looked around their camp as it formed, noticing the amount of grouping that came together. She noticed clear divisions amongst the rebel army, with the various bandit clans and factions forming their own smaller camps, and the former anti-Jartod force forming a singular large camp. Svari piped up then and there, shouting out into the camp, “I want Hruldur, Galren, Thranlem, Garanor, and Gulmush at my tent, now!” She then proceeded into her tent, taking a seat at the table inside of it. It was then that the leaders of the various bandits and rogues came in. It was like a potpourri of Tamriel, two Nords, a Bosmer, an Altmer, and, hilariously enough, an Orc. “What in the name of the Gods do the lot of you think you are doing?” The armor piercing question of the day for Svari. Thranlem, a squirrely little thing of an elf archer, piped up, “What do you mean, Svari? We were setting up camp.” Svari cracked him across the face, giving him a black eye right quick, “First off, that is ‘Sir’ to you. Second, you aren’t setting up a camp. You’re setting up four different camps. Merge your camps together with the other one. I won’t have two factions in [i]my[/i] army. Any of you have an issue come talk with me about it. I’ll be sure to make you look like a child.” With that, Svari dismissed them. She had many decisions for the times ahead, and she needed her rest. --- [center][i]22nd of Midyear, 4E 205 A Meeting of the Minds[/i] Chief Yagurz/Guards, Stormhold[/center] --- The guards plodded in before the Bretons even remotely got close, and they got the message across to Yagurz. These were not your typical Bretons, well, they were, but not of the kind that they had seen at the grander summit. Yagurz took a drink from his ale, shouting to the guards at the door, “Let the Bretons in when they arrive! And the lot of you be ready! I don’t want to have to apologize to Burkash about you all being killed!” Yagurz sat there, in the Orc quarters, sipping his drink, waiting for the Bretons, his back to the door, in a room full of guards. --- [center][i]31st of Midyear, 4E 205 Established[/i] Ilyn Ondrano, Gnisis[/center] --- Ilyn sipped his Canis Root tea, as he was want to do, sitting in the Hlaalu Headquarters looking out on the city of Gnisis like it was his own little playground and, if he had to think about it, Gnisis was his own little playground, even if the Ordinators decided that they wanted to play ball in his court. He smiled, looking out on Gnisis and taking another sip of his tea. He really did see why the Telvanni Magisters enjoyed this particular drink. It was quite the tasty beverage. As he enjoyed his tea, another hireling came in, this time with another letter. “From Sero Arvas, Sedura.” [hider=Letter][i]Ilyn, Brothels and several skooma dens have been established. We also have protection rackets set up in certain areas of the city. Septims will begin to flow in more abundantly soon enough. As requested, we have an assassination team in Seyda Neen awaiting your orders. -A[/i][/hider] Ilyn nodded and paid the courier, burning the letter with destruction magic. Now, all he had to do was plan for Seyda Neen. Soon, he would be in a position to seize power over Gnisis…and soon enough, Hlaalu would be back in the saddle once more. --- [center][i]30th of Midyear, 4E 205 Hlaalu in Bloom[/i] Draren Thiralas and team, Cheydinhal[/center] --- Draren and his team sat in their room at the Newlands Lodge, looking down at the streets in Cheydinhal. He had to admit, he admired the mix of Imperial and Dunmeri architecture on the borderlands of the Empire and Morrowind. Draren took a swig of his ale and spit it out, scrunching his face in disgust, “Bah!” he threw the bottle out into the hallway, a great shatter ringing out, “How can they call that swill alcohol?! Damned n’wahs can’t even make alcohol right. Wish we had some sodding sujamma. At least that would taste decent.” The others in the team looked at Draren like he was insane. Breaking bottles? Spitting ale out onto the ground? He was going to get them caught! “Draren…” began Rela, “Don’t you think we shou--“ He cut her off before she could finish, “Be cautious? Bah. Not here. Sure, the Legion is here, but they aren’t going to do anything at the moment. Infiltrate the criminal syndicates, possibly the upper crust. If we luck out, we can see about getting into the guard, line things up in our favor. Then we can start sending information back home.” The rest of them nodded and sighed in agreement, or exasperation. They couldn’t overrule him, seeing as how he was a Lawman, and thus the senior most member of the expedition. Their plans set, they went about their business, seeking for positions in the city. --- [hider=Actions][list][*]Orc warriors are rallied in Orsinium[/*] [*]Orc Adventurers in the Rift[/*] [*]Rebels are in Falkreath Hold[/*] [*]Yagurz awaits the Bretons[/*] [*]Hlaalu has established a foothold in Gnisis[/*] [*]Assassination team is waiting in Seyda Neen[/*] [*]Hlaalu spies are looking for opportunities amongst the criminals, upper-crust, and guard of Cheydinhal[/*][/list][/hider]