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Current Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
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The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 5]


There were lesser ways to return home than to the sound and shaking of the ground beneath you as the fury of the land itself vented unleashed its fiery, toxic rage into the distant sky; Thankfully, it seemed to be far enough away that while it was something to note and maybe try to locate sometime down the road it wasn't an imminent threat to Riverforge.

After handing some of the spoils of the hunt over to the leather workers in order to properly treat the skin to forge a banner from, placing the two collections of 'children' bones somewhere safe for later use and offering Morog's remains to to claimed by whomever gave enough of a damn, Rukdug took his time in checking up on the statues of the fortress and the improvements that had been made in his absence.

While the boar pens were of interest (and the suggestion of gathering some goats as well was quickly given the go ahead), it was the mining efforts that had caught the Hunter's interest... the presence of the 'firestones' most of all. Back in the old country, the discovery of such a find would have resulted in immediate attempts at weaponize regardless of the cost... but witnessing the connection to the volcano as well as the remains of the wolves in the caves, Rukdug decided to air on the side of caution. Since the firestones were clearly magical in nature, he sent in the shamans to investigate them properly to get a better grasp on them...

For a moment he considered experimenting with one of the Firestones, attempting to infuse it with one of the smelters to see they could be used to enhance the heat of the smelters and thus help with melting down stronger ores, but the charred bones of the wolves and the howls of the orc who had touched one of them had caused him to...lean on the side of caution. Let the crazy magic men poke and prod the things first before trying to do anything with them...

Besides, his attention was going to be elsewhere. Melting down ore was going to be important in the days to come: With the ability to produce copper, brass and bronze at hand it was time to get mining operations started! Granted it wasn't as good as iron or steel, but industry was industry and bronze was better then nothing.


The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 4]


It had truly been a worthy hunt.

Even if it had almost resulted in his own death, Rukdug couldn't help but feel admiration for the deadly cat that they had brought down after the brief but deadly fight. Looking over the amount of kills it had made over its life here and witnessing not just its stealth first hand, but the speed and strength it wielded to tear down foes whom managed to either avoid or somehow survive its deadly first strike... Even the fact that even as it was dying it refused to go quietly, fighting until he stabbed it though the heart and it couldn't cling to life anymore.

This was even considering that since it was in its lair during the day and the time that it had attacked Morog, it seemed like it was normally a nocturnal hunter; He suspected it had been awoken earlier then normal by their arrival and forced into a fight on unfavorable terms... and despite the number disadvantage, had it been going up against something weaker or less trained than orcs he wasn't sure who would have won.

However his plans for the skin of the great cat was going to have to wait; there were a few other concerns that needed to be addressed.

Morog's bones weren't difficult to gather up, through the remaining flesh and meat had to be stripped away and left behind; Nothing like rotting meat to not only attract predators, but annoyances like insects as well. Plus on a hot day it just smelt awful and ever kilo of meat that was left behind was a kilo they didn't have to carry back. Normally he would have just left the body as was for whatever scavenger could find it, but that was the old ways talking. He didn't know if there was anyone back at Riverforge that gave enough of a damn about Morog to do something with his bones, but at least the chance was provided. At any rate, he had plans for his skull... As well as that of the dead bear nearby.

The child like bodies caused him to pause; There before him was evidence that they were not the only people in this new land. As he stared at the tiny bones, ideas born of pragmatism that would likely have never been considered by an orc before presented themselves to him to be considered... and after a few moments he gathered them up, placing them in separate packs to be carried back as well. They might prove useful later on... after he sent out scouts to locate the people that they originally came from.

With the beast skinned, it's meat properly collected and the various collections of bones gathered up, the trek back to Riverforge could begin. As they walked through, Rukdug glanced towards Glomp... and offered the orc a rare smile. "Congratulations Glomp... when we get back home, you've earned yourself a promotion as my bodyguard."

..................................................................

The discovery of Copper (alongside some gems of questionable value) wasn't exactly earth shattering, but it was a start. Nyorgha easily gave the orcs who had done the prospecting permission to clear out the rubble blocking the entrance of one of the caves, but her personal attention had to be focused elsewhere. Namely, towards the boars.

The boars they had captured proved to be surprising easy to feed because they ate just about anything they gave them; Roots, leaves, bark, bones or meat.... Didn't matter what you offered to 'em they ate it happily. However, if she wanted them to prove a stable food source in the long run then as a people they needed to understand the animals better. Thus she had gathered some of the very hunters that had gone out and captured the boars in the first place to go out again... though this time with a different goal in mind.

They would -not- hunt the boars or try to capture them. Instead, the task she wanted them to perform was that of scouting and observation; She wanted them to spy on the wild boars and discover as much about how they functioned in the wild as both an individual animal and as a species so that they could refine not just their domestication efforts, but also alter their pens to make them more comfortable and thus easier to both manage and breed when the time came. What they ate, how they interacted with each other, where they tended to live and what their lairs were like alongside any other details that might prove important.

Granted if they saw a chance to capture or kill other animals to help them keep Riverforge fed they were more then welcome to do so, but they needed to understand the boars better.




The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 3]




If the hunt for Morog's corpse had proven anything, it was that Luza and Glomp were likely innocent of his death... at least as far as killing him was concerned. Some softer race might have taken the view that because they allowed him to wander off on his own made them somewhat responsible for his death, but Rukdug wasn't going to punish anyone because someone else did something stupid that got themselves killed.

However, this didn't mean the hunt was over. There was something living out here that was either stealthy enough or strong enough (possibly both) to take an orc on and win... something they didn't know the identity of. Hunting it down was partly to discover what it was and possibly learn a bit more about the local predators in the process, but it was also his duty as Warchief to see it die; It had claimed the life of one of his orcs and while a part of his was disgusted to admit it, Morog's disappearance had caused a level of unease among his followers that needed to be dealt with. Mounting its head above the gate of their home would more then solve that little problem.

Of course, they would first have to find it. Chasing after a predator that had proven itself at least somewhat strong or clever they knew nothing about in the dark on its own turf would have been a foolish idea, so camp would be struck for the night to prepare for the chase to continue at dawn. With seven in their group, having at least three people on watch at a given time while taking shifts would ensure that the whole group got some rest without fear of being attacked in their sleep.

.........................................

With the food situation at least looking somewhat promising, Nyorgha decided to turn her attention towards something that was important to do but they had been forced to delay due to more pressing matters; She organized a team of miners to investigate the mountain and caves that they had decided to settle their first fort in this strange new land in order to find what metals and resources that it could offer them. Any other discoveries they made would simply been a boon.

The possibility of getting some forges built and getting some proper industry going again made her smile to herself as she went about her tasks as regent.
Just posting here to let people know this isn't dead.
The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 2]




"For farks sake! I didn't think gathering everyone here to have this talk was needed because it was basic common sense, but clearly I was wrong because... what was his name?" Rukdug's angry rant was briefly put on hold as the name of the exact target of his ire had briefly escaped him. Shortly after one of the hunters had gone missing and the two 'survivors' of the group returned, the Warchief had taken the time to gather everyone who was currently in camp in order to have a little chat...

Even as the crowd had been gathered it was clear that there was some degree of concern in the air; Not fear, but between an idiot wandering off on his own and disappearing and the dwindling food stores, the possibility of a bad future was drifting into view like a dark storm cloud. Action had to be taken and taken now, before the situation had the chance to spiral out of control.

Shaking his head and making a dismissive gesture big enough to be seen by most of the crowd, Rukdug swung back into irritated leader mode before anyone else in the crowd had a chance to actually call out Morog's stupid name. "Bah! Doesn't matter what his name was, if he's still alive when I find him his name is going to be changed to shithole digger; His punishment for stupidly going into unknown and hostile terrain alone will be to dig and clean out cesspits until the day he farking dies!"

Even as the beginnings of a murmur started to raise in the crowd, Rukdug brought his hands together in a thunderous clap to silence his listeners and keep the focus on him and what he was saying. "We're going to be going back to basics here people! The very stuff that was beaten into your skulls since the day you were able to crawl. Until further notice, the following is to be considered law until we are in a position where we can change them."

Taking a deep breath, he began. "Rule number one: At all times, all orcs able to wield a weapon is to have one close at hand, if not on their body at all times. Simple enough, most of you do it anyway already. It's just common sense."

"Rule number two: Until we have a better lay of the land and knowledge of what lives here, all hunting parties heading out into the wilderness are to be made up of no less then five hunters. Forming a hunting party larger then five requires my personal blessing with a reasonably valid reason for the extra bodies. Now before any of you start whining, I did the math; There is little in this world that could survive five orc hunters working together to bring it down and five hunters is the perfect mix of safety in numbers while still being quick and stealthy enough to actually catch something. You're not coddled humans or prissy elves, you're orcs so act like it!"

For the first time since his commanding rant had started, Rukdug actually paused long enough to let the crowd absorb what he was saying. Taking the chance to catch his breath fully, when he started shouting again it lacked the angry bite that it had while he was explaining the rules of common sense. "Now that's out of the way... Luza, Glomp, get your asses out here front and center!"

Luza and Glomp, the two orcs from the hunting trip that Morog was lost on, scrambled out of their spots at the front of the crowd and stood ridgy at attention; A hold over from Warchief Pash the Glutten, whom was prone to arbitrarily killing those who didn't show enough respect when he had deemed fit to give them an audience. The two were sweating, nerves eating them from the inside out as Rukdug looked from one to the other.

Then he smiled. They started to sweat more. "Luza, Glomp... I'm going to give you something that would never have happened across the sea. I'm going to give you the chance to prove yourselves innocent." The crowd went deathly quiet, staring at history in the making before them as Luza and Glomp stood there, stunned before Rukdug explained what was going to happen. "The two of you, myself and four hunters and trackers of my choice are going to find the spot were Morog parted ways from your group to go off on his own and then follow his trail to discover his fate. If your story checks out you will be found innocent; If we cannot find Morog or enough evidence to rule out foul play on your parts... well, the rest of your short lives are going to be frightfully interesting..."

Watching as the two 'hunters' gulped in fear, Rukdug turned his attention away from them for one final announcement. "Until my return, Captain Nyorgha is in charge. Nyorgha, I would speak with you before my departure. Everyone else, you're dismissed. We've all got work to do."

.......................................................

Once it was just Rukdug and Nyorgha, the Warchief felt himself relax a little. There were few orcs in his life before they crossing that he trusted and Nyorgha the Liberator was one of them. She had just been a grunt when he had first met her and took her on as one of his squad. Through at times she annoyed the hell out of him, she had proven herself time and time again to be competent and loyal; attributes that had helped her rise to be the youngest captain in the known history of Nomar during the removal of of that fat fool Pash.

Attributes that would serve him well still.

"What do you need me to do Rukdug?" She asked, getting straight to the point for once due to the seriousness of the situation.

"I need you to find and secure some kind of stable food source... or at least stable enough that we can get some farms going. Send out hunting parties, gather and pen animals, forage for fruits and roots... hell, if you can somehow manage it make some nets that we can stick in the river to catch fish. I don't care what you get or how you get it, just make it happen."

Nyorgha smirked at the request. "That all? Consider it done."
The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 1]




The decision of where to set up their home was a challenging one and it was one that bothered Rukdug during his journey down Hardship's Respite. After his scouts had made their reports, he had briefly considered selecting the place where the two forks met in order to secure both resources that the forks offered before casting it aside. Some many have called it paranoia, but the possibility of the Dark One taking enough of an interest in them to actually send an attack to punish them...

One didn't raise up the ranks to Warchief by being naive. Paranoia was healthy when the shadows often held knives waiting for a moment to strike. There was only one answer that he could give as Warchief that would allow him some measure of rest at night.

His decision made, he quickly delegated tasks out to subordinates to spread the news and prepare them for the final stage of the trek. They were going to follow the eastern fork towards the mountains and make full use of its defensive position and the ease in which stone could be gathered to build themselves a secure power base.

Rukdug took pride in the fact that he was the leader of some of the best and brightest wall breakers the world had to offer and it didn't take much thought to consider that the same know how that could bring down enemy walls could be used to build walls that were much more challenging to breach, but he wasn't expecting the greatest fortress the world had ever seen. That would take time and planning that could be done later on. Right now, he needed somewhere safe and secure that his people could call their own.



The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 0]


When the first ship had managed to beach itself against the sandy shore, a great cheer had gone up from not just those on board, but also from other ships that were following behind that could see the promise of a new land before them. The ships themselves were ugly and battered things; They appeared to have been made in haste with limited resources by people who might have had a basic understanding of how to make boats but had clearly never had to contend with the trails of traveling across the open sea before. More then one ship in the ram-shackled fleet that was coming ashore had sunken on the journey, taking many of the souls on board with them despite the efforts of some of the other ships to fish their fellow orcs from the icy ocean waters.

Despite the losses and the hardship through, the orcs themselves were in high spirits. They had done what many had believed to be impossible. The Dark One had long ago segregated his slave and worshiper races into specialized rolls in order to prevent any one race from being able to rebel effectively against him; While orcs could create fishing boats and make shift transports in order to gather food and ferry troops across minor bodies of water like rivers or moats respectively, actual sea faring naval craft and their production was kept in the hands of his branded human cultists. No one believed that an orc could make a ship that could survive three days out in open waters, let alone make an ocean crossing. With the impossible achieved, it was with great pride that the orcs celebrated their arrival in a new land.

The landing site was a beach that stretched into grassland towards the south east as far as the eye could see, next to a river that flowed from the west that had a forest that lay to the north. As the surviving ships arrived one after the other, good natured arguments started to arise over what to name the place. The first orc that had stepped foot on the new land made the argument that since he was the first one to step foot on the new land, he should have the right to name it, while his crew mates suggested that they should name it after their ship for being the first one to land. A few captains and other crews tried to put their own names forward, but they were half hearted attempts at best for the sake of ego; Everyone had seen who had landed first after all.

When Rukdug the Hunter finally landed and the matter was brought to him, he looked around and thought for a moment... before coming to a decision on another matter. While he agreed that the place needed a name worthy of the occasion, it would not be the location of their new home. While camps were set up for the time being, several teams were organized to construct river craft to scout further upriver to see how close to the mountains it would get them. Using parts of the now beached ships and taking advantage of the forest nearby for fresh resources, much better built boats were constructed and sent upriver.

After some time the scouts returned, bringing with them tales of a fork in the river that protected a stretch of land close enough to the mountains for mining, but with plenty of room to grow into a defensive position. It would take time to ferry orcs and supplies there to set up a proper settlement, but it was a perfect place to call home. More boats to travel the river would be required, but it would be a lot quicker and easier then traveling by land.

With the process of moving their people underway, Rukdug finally came to a decision about what to name their landing spot. The river itself would earn the name Hardship's Respite while the landing that would be their first step towards their new home... Survivor's Pride. Even as orcs boarded boats heading upriver, a name for the yet built settlement was already floating around: Riverforge. A place for their tribe to start anew.
The Mustaqilun Tribe

Represented Color: Purple
Race: Orc
Breed: Blackskin Orcs
Capital: Riverforge
Ruler: Warchief Rukdug the Hunter

Type of Government: Tribal Tyranny. Traditionally, the orcish society that the Mustaqilun Tribe broke away from favoured rule by strength; The stronger, cunning and more brutal you were, the higher in society you could potentially rise and expect to survive the promotion.
While the Mustaqilun Tribe could be considered somewhat liberal by the standards of other orcs, they do respect strong, competent leadership and the only alternative government that they have seen in action is monarchy which doesn’t appeal to them; While the leader who founds the kingdom is generally someone to respect by orcish standards, a few generations on and you tend to get poor leaders unworthy of the power they’re ‘born with’.

Religion:
The Mustaquilun Tribe doesn’t have a religion per say; The closest thing to a ‘god’ that the tribe had in the past was their former lord and master, a being of great power that ruled orcish kind through might and fear. While the Dark One had a cult dedicated to him that worshiped him as an almighty being, the Mustaquilun Tribe (and quite a large number of other orcs) viewed him more as the biggest, strongest of bosses rather than as a deity… and considering that they broke all ties with their former master when they took to the seas, their opinion of him is rather low.

They are superstitious through, performing small rituals and offerings in their day to day lives to ‘spirits’; A hunter might make a small offering before going out on a hunt for a good hunt, while a blacksmith might perform small rituals occasionally in order to keep the spirit of his forge in high spirits while wading off misfortune.

History:
The history of the Mustaquilun Tribe started fairly recently. Originally the orcs stationed at the oceanside port fortress of Nomar, the orcs of Nomar spent their days producing weapons and equipment for the seemingly endless armies of their distant master, the Dark One in his campaign against the other races and kingdoms of the land.

The Dark One was a cruel, unforgiving and demanding overlord, uncaring for the pain and suffering of minions and slaves alike as long as his orders were met on time. His requests kept the forges of Nomar burning at all hours of the day and night in order to try and keep up with demand.

It was hard to say exactly when the uprising among the orcs of Nomar began; they all hated the Dark One and the lives that they were being made to live, but their fear of him tended to keep any actual spirit of rebellion quiet… at least, until they no longer had anything to lose.

The forges were sabotaged by slaves from one of the distant nations their master had waged war with, breaking almost all of them down in such a way that it would take months to get production back up to the levels that it had been before, let alone start meeting the Dark One’s quotas again. The Dark One wasn’t known for his patience or his calm temper; in the past when a production site had fallen behind to the same degree as Nomar had just done, he had the fortress purged of its current workforce before repopulating it with a fresh workforce to get it operational again.

The orcs of Nomar were doomed… so they decided to take a gamble.

It began with the death of the former Warchief, Pash the Glutten. His failure to prevent such a devastating slave uprising due to neglecting his duties as Warchief of Nomar was deemed to be the source of the orcs impending doom and thus he was executed by his replacement, Rukdug the Hunter.

With the former Warchief slain and the promise of a painful death approaching, Rukdug came up with a plan to save himself and his fellow orcs... though it came with a price. In order for his plan to be successful, those under his command that zealously obeyed the will of the Dark One as the word of god had to be purged in order to prevent them from hindering their efforts. The night after Pash's head was mounted on a spike, Rukdug and those loyal to him (or at least to their own survival) slaughtered every last Dark One loyalist they could find, with only a handful fleeing into the night.

Led by Rukdug the Hunter, the orcs used what production abilities they still had access to in order to build ships. They took to the seas, abandoning their homeland completely in favour of escaping their master’s wrath and creating new lives for themselves elsewhere. Breaking all ties with their former master, the orcs of the fortress of Nomar decided to band together in order to form a new tribe; The Mustaquilun tribe.



The Mustaqilun Tribe

Represented Color: Purple
Race: Orc
Breed: Blackskin Orcs
Capital: Riverforge
Ruler: Warchief Rukdug the Hunter

Type of Government: Tribal Tyranny. Traditionally, the orcish society that the Mustaqilun Tribe broke away from favoured rule by strength; The stronger, cunning and more brutal you were, the higher in society you could potentially rise and expect to survive the promotion.
While the Mustaqilun Tribe could be considered somewhat liberal by the standards of other orcs, they do respect strong, competent leadership and the only alternative government that they have seen in action is monarchy which doesn’t appeal to them; While the leader who founds the kingdom is generally someone to respect by orcish standards, a few generations on and you tend to get poor leaders unworthy of the power they’re ‘born with’.

Religion:
The Mustaquilun Tribe doesn’t have a religion per say; The closest thing to a ‘god’ that the tribe had in the past was their former lord and master, a being of great power that ruled orcish kind through might and fear. While the Dark One had a cult dedicated to him that worshiped him as an almighty being, the Mustaquilun Tribe (and quite a large number of other orcs) viewed him more as the biggest, strongest of bosses rather than as a deity… and considering that they broke all ties with their former master when they took to the seas, their opinion of him is rather low.

They are superstitious through, performing small rituals and offerings in their day to day lives to ‘spirits’; A hunter might make a small offering before going out on a hunt for a good hunt, while a blacksmith might perform small rituals occasionally in order to keep the spirit of his forge in high spirits while wading off misfortune.

History:
The history of the Mustaquilun Tribe started fairly recently. Originally the orcs stationed at the oceanside port fortress of Nomar, the orcs of Nomar spent their days producing weapons and equipment for the seemingly endless armies of their distant master, the Dark One in his campaign against the other races and kingdoms of the land.

The Dark One was a cruel, unforgiving and demanding overlord, uncaring for the pain and suffering of minions and slaves alike as long as his orders were met on time. His requests kept the forges of Nomar burning at all hours of the day and night in order to try and keep up with demand.

It was hard to say exactly when the uprising among the orcs of Nomar began; they all hated the Dark One and the lives that they were being made to live, but their fear of him tended to keep any actual spirit of rebellion quiet… at least, until they no longer had anything to lose.

The forges were sabotaged by slaves from one of the distant nations their master had waged war with, breaking almost all of them down in such a way that it would take months to get production back up to the levels that it had been before, let alone start meeting the Dark One’s quotas again. The Dark One wasn’t known for his patience or his calm temper; in the past when a production site had fallen behind to the same degree as Nomar had just done, he had the fortress purged of its current workforce before repopulating it with a fresh workforce to get it operational again.

The orcs of Nomar were doomed… so they decided to take a gamble.

It began with the death of the former Warchief, Pash the Glutten. His failure to prevent such a devastating slave uprising due to neglecting his duties as Warchief of Nomar was deemed to be the source of the orcs impending doom and thus he was executed by his replacement, Rukdug the Hunter.

With the former Warchief slain and the promise of a painful death approaching, Rukdug came up with a plan to save himself and his fellow orcs... though it came with a price. In order for his plan to be successful, those under his command that zealously obeyed the will of the Dark One as the word of god had to be purged in order to prevent them from hindering their efforts. The night after Pash's head was mounted on a spike, Rukdug and those loyal to him (or at least to their own survival) slaughtered every last Dark One loyalist they could find, with only a handful fleeing into the night.

Led by Rukdug the Hunter, the orcs used what production abilities they still had access to in order to build ships. They took to the seas, abandoning their homeland completely in favour of escaping their master’s wrath and creating new lives for themselves elsewhere. Breaking all ties with their former master, the orcs of the fortress of Nomar decided to band together in order to form a new tribe; The Mustaquilun tribe.



Considering that this is an AU universe, you can have the Exodar come down a bit earlier in a different location.
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