[b]Vanguar[/b] [hider=Nation Status]Current Leader/Government: High Chief Skar Bloodwroth Settlements Owned: 4 Provinces Owned: 1 Population: 100 000 Standing Army: - /<1, 000 Orcs>// - /<3, 000 Orcs>//<100%> Population Happiness: 50% Imports: Exports: Iron, Spice Wealth: Poor Alliances: None Trade Pacts: None Cease Fires: None [/hider] [hider=map][img]http://i.imgur.com/YxSY5Mm.png[/img][/hider] [center][b]Grimmhold[/b][/center] [center][img]http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120414193329/riddick/images/thumb/0/0c/12-04-09.jpg/500px-12-04-09.jpg[/img] [i]The Crag[/i][/center] Stryke took a relaxed grip on the reigns of his warg, leading the beast through the hard rock of the shale as the flat terrain gave way to the razor sharp rocks of the Crag. Stryke's convoy of nearly fifty Orcs passed the somber grey rocks in near silence. As they put the shale behind them, surrounded by the stony teeth of the Crag, they came upon a sudden pit dug deep into the earth. Remains of a buildings foundation crept up from the ground in a grim reminder of what had once been here. Behind Stryke, Haskeer urged his warg forward, stopping beside the captain. "What is this place?" Asked Haskeer. Stryke scowled. "A human mine." "A mine? But it is just a hole in the ground." "The humans dug out the teeth of the crag, cutting and working the stone into great blocks, blocks they then used to build Grimmhold." Haskeer's jaw dropped in wonder. "How? How could they mold the rock here to their will? Magic?" Stryke barked with laughter. "Magic? You fool! Humans wield all sorts of devious tricks to rape and bend land to their own uses. Magic, no, but dark arts nonetheless. Take a good look at this pit. It is the fate of all mankind. All their glory will fall to ruin, to remain as a pit through the march of time." The convoy moved on, forced nearly to single file as the narrow path led them away from the quarry. Stryke fell back down the line, stopping beside Coilla who held their hatchling protectively in her arms. Her eyes narrowed as she espied her husband, clearly still angry at having to leave the Shale. "Such a journey is not fit for a hatchling, wailing from the shell!" Stryke straightened his back rigidly, setting dark eyes upon Coilla. "He will be fine, my seed is strong, and such hardship will serve to strengthen him." "Do you know who you sound like?" "Still your maw, Coilla!" Stryke barked. He took a breath, calming his blood. "I have a duty to Vanguar, as do you. I will hear no more of your moaning." He snapped the reigns and moved back to the front of the column. The convoy snaked around a winding path up a large incline. Crossing the precipice, the land dipped down, revealing a large fortress, with a lone tower stabbing up at the air. A tall wall surrounded the tower, cut from the white bones of the Crag. This was Grimmhold, a great fortress built by the humans to project their power into this country. Now it was the seat of Stryke's father, liberated in the great rebellion that drove the humans out. The lone tower stood mournfully in the distance, an unnatural curiosity in contrast to the landscape. A chill ran down Stryke's spine. Grimmhold; his new home.