Session Preface:
The frigid air swirls around you, wrapping around your form like a snake ensnaring its prey. Kneeling behind a moss-laden boulder, you observe the imposing, jagged mountains rising before you. Gazing out over an outcropping of hastily constructed stone structures encircling their base, you watch as morning light pours through the eastern peaks, casting sharp angular shadows across the valley.
Among the surrounding structures, signs of life catch your eye as small patrols of orcs march in formation. A handful of armor-clad figures spar while a group gathers to watch the bout, their distant cheers and grunts drowned out by the winds roaring through the mountain pass. Observing the forces in total, you count roughly a hundred, give or take a dozen, orcs roaming the stronghold's exterior.
Beyond the circles of camps and still smoldering pit fires, a massive cavern mouth looms over an exposed narrow ice-covered road winding back and forth across the near vertical mountainside. The entrance, even from this distance, clearly depicts a monstrous face, with a pair of rough, razor-edged boulders aside the entryway placed opposite one another, depicting the curved tusks of a colossal orc while a single menacing eye carved into the mountainside glares over the pathway before it. A deep and foreboding darkness pours from the cavern mouth, as if eager to swallow whole any who dares venture within.
Four days of hard travel, pushing yourself through a relentless snowstorm have brought you here. Four nights around campfires spent creating battle plans, considering contingencies, drawing up deployment formations, and sharing stories from the assault of Avraathe to better learn the enemy's patterns and prepare for surprises. And even with the thorough preparations and diligence, seeing the mountain's ominous opening and the small army between your companions and the stronghold itself casts a momentary shadow of doubt over your mind. Steeling your nerves, you take a deep breath of frozen air, hold it tight within your chest, and slowly release the tension as behind you ice crackles as metal boots dig into the snow with measured steps.
Captain Hezlau stands behind you, her freshly sharpened halberd at her side as her platinum armor blends in against the snowy hills rolling behind her.
"What are our orders, then, Commander?"
Session Summary:
Scouting the Stronghold
The morning starts with Endriel and two of the Platinum Order members most proficient in stealth operations moving closer to the orc's stronghold to scout out the number and movements of the orcs stationed outside the cave system. Over the series of his watch, Endriel observes a central pocket of orcs who seem to be a mix of fighters training and builders repairing ballista and catapults. In addition, five rotating patrols consisting of four orcs and an orog pace the pathways along the cave mouth, the only ways in and out, as well as a path that drops down into a ravine out of vision.
Returning with this intel, the party discusses their options, arguing between exploring the caves or trying to find a second, perhaps less defended, entrance through the guarded ravine. Captain Irudru reminds the party of an earlier plan to capture an orc and interrogate them for details about the stronghold. A subset of the strike force soon after finds itself in position to intercept and silence one of the patrols. As Tezthen, Torurak, and Endriel fell the four orcs, Vorothruun uses his eldritch energy to break the knees of the Orog as Parathrax grapples and binds the hindered orc. Irudru then spends several moments exchanging with it in orcish, using force as an additional measure when needed.
When Endriel, serving as lookout, realizes the next patrol is rotating to their position, the team drags the bodies back out of sight and returns to their camp to discuss what they've learned.
Captain Irudru shares the Orog's information, namely that the King is expecting the party and that leadership has been commanded to allow them passage into his chamber, though admittedly some of the rank and file members might not be aware that they are the expected guests, so it is still best to proceed with tentative caution. Irudru also notes the party's suspicions of a means to enter the cave through the ravine to be true, though the Orog did not know precisely where the tunnel opened.
Taking advantage of the gap in patrols, the party makes careful, methodical progress around the far side of the exterior orc camps, staying in the blind spot of the missing patrol. When the party finally reaches an open air space between the camp and the drop off into the ravine, Tezthen takes off running and slides down the decline to stay out of sight and speed up his descent, a trick the rest of the party then soon copies on their way past the orc's line of sight. With only moments before the next patrol arrives, the strike force spreads out and searches for the cavern opening before eventually finding it buried in the snow.
Endriel leads the way into the narrow caverns in which the members are forced to stand single file and in profile through sections. With so many trained soldiers, the party make quick, efficient work of a pair of arguging Orog guards before their presence is dedicated by a slender orc mounted on a giant bat. The orc survives a pair of arrows from the Platinum Order members before flying into the chamber the party occupies, barking at them in orcish, and then leading them toward another chamber. This new guide leads the party through a massive cavernous opening and towards another bottleneck, commanding them in orcish to proceed forward. As Parathrax, Vorothruun, and Endriel step forward, the giant bat extends its wings and shrieks, cutting off the Platinum Order members as well as Captain Irudru and Beldan as more orcs gather around the surround them. With no alternative but to proceed forward, the party moves into the central chamber lit with a blazing fire and furs spread across the stone floor.
King Waruk's Invitation
As you approach the central chamber, a colossal orc, nearly your height while seated on a stone throne, eyes you closely with an entirely neutral expression across his face, giving away nothing of his intent nor emotion. In one hand, the orc holds a war helmet of bronze with six tusks still stained red with blood protruding forward from the temple. In similar fashion, the figure wears shoulder pauldrons and bracers of dark leather, furs, and tusks extending in all directions. Even his boots feature the same bloody tusks as well as a pair of small skulls on each. Resting against the throne is a great axe, its razor edge gleaming in the low light cast from torches around the chamber.
The seated orc, who you guess to be eight feel tall at least, is joined by two lieutenants to either side of him. On his left, a muscular female orc reminiscent of the one defeated in the courtyard eyes each of you while she absentmindedly drags her claws against one another, creating an unnerving screeching sound like an elongated droning note ringing just within earshot. Opposite her, a small, robe-clad orc with shaved down tusks and a bald head watches anxiously, fiddling with notches in his wooden staff, his eyes leaping between the orcs and yourselves back and forth.
Between you and the throne is a simple wooden table with a long bench running the length of it with room for each of you. The delightful scent of warm, fresh bread fills your nostrils, coming from a loaf resting on stone slab and covered with a cloth. Pitchers of ale sit between empty tankards and several plates are set out across the table.
The seated orc speaks.
"I am, of course, Waruk, King of the White Tusk Nation, Chosen of Gruumsh. I have been expecting you, heroes of Avraathe. I hope your journey to Baraskur was one of little trouble. Before we begin, I offer you refreshments in the way of sustenance and ale. We don't have anything of particular note, but is it not tradition to share beer and bread with one's guests? Torug, would you please fill our guest's tankards for them and once they are served, bring me a plate and cup as well. We have much to discuss."
Conversing with the King
Denying Waruk's initial invitation to sit, Parathrax expresses his cynicism towards the orc's gesture considering the recent assault on Avraathe and the thousands of lives lost on both sides. As both sides measure one another, the King expresses his seemingly sincere remorse over those who died as a result of the attack, but stands firm in the necessity and natural order of his actions both in Velqwen and Avraathe, saying "As orcs, it is our nature and birthright to fight and take that which is grasped in weak hands incapable of holding it. Do not make the mistake of taking the assault personally, but simply as an evaluation of Avraathe's strength. Since you are clearly capable and stalwart in your defenses, it would be in the best interest of all people represented here for us to work towards peace and mutual understanding."
Throughout the conversation, Vorothruun challenges and tests King Waruk's self-described status as the Chosen of Gruumsh asking of his worthiness, his sacrifices, and then observes his responses through telepathic communication and his newfound ability of True Sight. Detecting no deception, Vorothruun extends an offer to the King, telepathically expressing,
"Do not mistake my brother's goals with mine - I see your divine place in the company of Gruumsh. I respect it. But your efforts are misguided, your effort put to waste with such small aims. I serve a great being, the oldest and most revered. My Queen is to Gruumsh is what we are to ants.... you sit at might at my table as much as I do yours. We could do so much more."
Upon receiving this message, the King interupts Parathrax's discussion of Avraathe's leaders and turns to Vorothruun, chastising him for trying to sway Waruk to focus on more than his kingdom and more importantly, the well being of his people, considering Vorothruun's god to be a distant and dispassionate one whom Waruk will not honor. Following the tense exchange which leaves Vorothruun with a wily smirk.
Returning to the matters at hand, Waruk shares his insight of war as the natural way of the world and peace being the temporary status brought about through the hard work of a select few individuals, suggesting those gathered to be the start of that process. King Waruk goes on to explain his desire for peace and establishing a kingdom for orcs to be more than the monsters they are considered, but such a vision requires more land and sufficient food and resources, which sparked the initial assault on Velqwen, which he saw as a necessity but a lower stakes one than other alternatives.
Waruk then suggests that if Avraathe were to allow the orcs to maintain control of Velqwen, he would uphold his end of the bargain and stop all attacks and raids on their roadways as well as provide proof of his sincerity and crucial insights regarding Avraathe's leaders.
While Parathrax is willing to hear the logic and wisdom in Waruk's words, he expresses his hesitancy at such a plan working since Avraathe's leaders will not be so reasonable. The King acknowledges the three present as the strongest of Avraathe and thus in Orc culture, the defacto leaders and thus capable of handling these negotiations. During this conversation, Endriel challenges the longevity and practicality of Waruk's plan, suggesting orcs cannot be kept in line and Waruk's legacy will be shortlived. The King takes these comments in stride, but suggests that such lasting peace thrived in the far north between the Kingdom of Many-Arrows and their neighbors and shares his hope to die of an unnaturally blessed old age, just as the last Chosen of Gruumsh, King Obould I did previously.
Once King Waruk has solidified the party's agreement in at least working alongside him to bring the mutually desired peace to the region with the information he has shared with them thus far, the massive orc approaches the table and places a small, unassuming leather bound journal before them, explaining it to be proof of his sincerity as well as his intel on a leader in Avraathe who is not as they appear and is to blame in part for the assault on Avraathe. King Waruk wishes the party to take this copy of his recorded thoughts and reveal the priest who attempted to make a puppet of the King and his followers.
With this initial agreement and lines of communication set in place, the King bids farewell to the party and awaits to hear of their discoveries upon returning to Avraathe. The party reconnects with the rest of their strike force and depart the orc stronghold of Baraskur and begin the four day journey west back home.
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