Turdas, 12th of Evening star5E 3 9:00 AM, The Red Wolf, Orsinium
In the Council Room, everyone was going to their seats. Newly arrived, Shastta represented the New Yokudan Kingdom, now sharing the same banner with the Bloody Fang. Wrukaog was tired, he had to wake up early to greet his guest. Both the matters of military, public order and administration were too much for him. The clan was growing and so were his burdens. He raised his hand, without speaking. That gesture gave freedom of speech to the members of the council, whoever was to talk would have placed a matter on the table. And the first was Raymond, stepping forword in an orderly manner, as he took a scroll from his pocket.
“Chief, I am sad to announce that winter has done us no good. This year, all the snowflakes could do was to settle down our crop production. As our navy increases in strength with the unification of the Yokudan Fleet, our fishermen harvested the cheapest only free source of food there is. The people are displeased by the way things turned out, there have been many semi-rebellions happening in the north, but Nakgu seems to take good care of the bretons. Lastly, our treasury is running low, you chose to use up most of our gold onto training more bretons and hiring mercenaries. I have to say...that is not the best choice of action.”
Wrukaog sighed, then raised from his throne to explain himself. “We need more able soliders. The orcs alone cannot win wars against people that count their men by tens of thousands. The yokudans offer us eight hundred men, and five times as much if Hamerfell is no longer contested. The orcs are increasing by little, but the bretons from the north accepted to be abducted into our armies. At the moment, there is an equal number of bretons and orcs that fight for the Bloody Fang - and that troubles me greatly.”
Raymond chuckled slightly, then spoke once more “Chief, the bretons aren’t stupid enough to undertake us. We should be focused on external matters” he tilted his head towards Luciena, who walked up, giving Raymond a playful wink. “Our spies report the Masterwings have fully conquered the Ashmiths, which brings them closer to our borders than ever before. They started hiring weaponmakers from all over the regions, and their men get hard training with each passing day.”
Wrukaog grunted “That can’t be good…” he turned to a courier next to him “Send a letter to the Masterwings, tell them that we do not want to fight them, and send them merchants have to offer if they agree.” Luciena continued “To the East, the Hawkfields are getting butchered by the Forsworn. We can either help them, or watch them perish - for there is no way they will win.” Wrukaog shook his head in disagreement.
Lasly, Shastta stepped forward, her arms crossed as a gust of wind entered the room, blowing away her long, black hair. “The Empire still stands, and it’s ruler sits there, with only the sands to separate us. When are we going to take action?”. Wrukaog walked up to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. “We are still trade partners and allies to the empire, and I’d rather avoid a war with them for as long as possible. Their men outnumber ours, but we can win if we use cunning.” She nodded, somewhat dissapointed.
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It was a warm morning in the orcish stronghold of Dushnikh Yal. There, former warchief Nakgu is waiting to meet his accomplices. The strongholds in Skyrim is where Nakgu hailed from, he was known as the best orc warrior in Skyrim. He never accepted that Malacath worship was thrown aside, as he grew up with it. He planned to change that, once he would became ruler over the Bloody Fang clan. The orcs from Dushnikh Yal sympathised Nakgu, although most orcs now saw him as week, a traitor, for not listening to Wrukaog. Nakgu no longer had his orcish-ebony plate armor, the armor that was bestowed upon the Warchief. He now wore a simple steel armor, with only the shoulders, gauntlets and boots, made from orichulum metal. He wore no helmet, his bald head was shining in the sun, and his long, black, thick beard trembled as the gust of wind flew upon the mountains of the Reach.
“It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Nakgu.” said the chief of the stronghold. “Indeed it has. But I’m not here to stay, Grommash, I have duties as commander over the defences of the clan”
Grommash raised an eyebrow “Then why do you come here? A small visit, to show you have not forgotten us, to show that you haven’t forgotten Malacath?" Nakgu frowned and tilted his head down “That also…” he made a brief pause “But I’m here for business, I must meet a dunmer, from Solstheim, regarding an alliance.” Grommash smiled and placed his hand upon Nakgu’s shoulder “Malacath guide you, Nakgu. Know that whatever happens, we will always be on your side!”
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Mirvyn’s feet were utterly numb from the great trek from their landing place in a small village outside of Solitude. Him and his guards had travelled through the thick, damp marshes of Hjaalmarch, as well as the treacherous cliffs and mountains of the Reach, and now, after two days of travelling, his boots were more or less destroyed, he moaned at each step, as did his archer escort the captain had granted him. But the giant Stalhrim-clad warrior had not spoken a single word since they had left Raven Rock, he showed no expression of fatigue or exhaustion, this was his element, this was where he belonged, out in the field, marching, killing any that came too close to the small escort.
The odd convoy finally climbed the small hill, with a final effort, and the great Longhouse of the settlement could be seen in front of them. The vision glimmering, both from the heat emanating from the rocks, as well as from Mirvyn’s own exhaustion.
“Azur’...” He stopped, and remembered their new patron, the change was difficult for some, still.
“Thank Hermaeus, there it is! Hurry up, I cannot stand another second in these forsaken hills!” Thirlin’s Stalhrim warrior grunted amusedly at this, but other than that, naught could be heard, but the sound of birdsong and the wind, echoing through the hillside. Mirvyn imagined the comfort in resting his feet in a pool of water, once they reached the settlement.
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“Sir, the ash-skins are at the gates.” An orc said, before he stepped aside from the entrance to the Longhouse, and the dunmer stepped in.
There were four of them, first was the man seeming in charge, dressed in a typical Dunmer garment, with a dark-green scarf hung around his neck, his back-slicked hair shining with sweat. Next were two archers, black longbows hung upon their backs, along with small quivers of iron arrows, clad in a mixture of leather and chainmail. And at last was the true attention-grabber of the escort, a massive Dunmer, clad in shining armour, looking as if it was the great ice of the North itself he clad him within, his blade and shield hung upon his back, both too made of the unmelting ice.
Once again, the focus returned to the leader of the petty escort, as he reachedout with his arms in salutation to the Warchief.
“Greetings, great Chief...Nakgu! We are honoured to meet your grace, truly.” Mirvyn bowed to the Warchief, and so did the two archers, but not the Stalhrim warrior.
Nakgu raised from his chair upon hearing the news. “There you are Mirvyn! I’ve been expecting you! There’s no need for such formal pleasantries, we orcs are above those. Now, I expect you came up with a way of solving my little problem?”
Mirvyn rose again, and smiled at the orc, they were truly not fit for the politics and such of the other races, a more simple people.
“Yes, indeed I have. But before we can promise you our assistance in this, there are things our kingdom require back as well.” He said slyly, wondering if the news of the war had reached the other kingdoms of Tamriel yet. So far, nothing had occurred to truly catch the attention of the other rulers, but you never knew.
“You are in war with clan War-Blade. My people from the strongholds there tell me, about the nords struggle in your war. They have to deal with your ships raiding the coastal settlements, as well as with the rebels raising in their cities. Your rulers are smart, you couldn’t have chose a better timing to start war. I have a little offer for you, that might help you on your battles, if you’re intrested.” he spoke while circling around the dunmer, confident of the words that came out of his mouth
“And what is this you are offering, my Chief?” Mirvyn asked, curiosity ripe in his voice.
“Two years ago, when the Bloody Fang clan rose to power, I convinced Wrukaog, our High Chief to start building a battleship. the Masterwings and the Parikhan could assault our coastal cities, and we had nothing to defend them. We needed influence on the seas. Now, the famed battleship is almost done, and I tell you, this ship is indestructible - 48 broadside cannons on each side, the largest naval ram you can find, and two ballistas in front. The hull is made from ebony and orichalcum ingots, making it’s defenses almost impenetrable” said Nakgu, his voice full of pride.
“I am sure my King would be impressed, but how does this affect the Silvermoon?” It was hard to not use the words and titles deemed necessary of a politician, but the orcs believed in power more, and so he must comply with the situaiton.
“Well, I have an idea of how this ship might work, but I need to be crowned High Chief for that. This ship will have no flag, and work as a pirate ship. It will raid other commercial ships and the coastal cities of Clan War blade, and whoever we desire, and bring back the loot to us. If you can make me High Chief, I assure you a part of that loot will go to your kingdom, and the nords will be too afraid to sail upon the Sea of Ghosts anymore. The ship will have orcs, bretons, redguards and elves on it, nobody would think, it belongs to The Bloody Fang. What do you say?” Nakgu spoke out. His initial plan was to harass the Pakhirm with the ship, making them more and more vulnerable. And when they were vulnerable enough, the Bloody Fang would have invaded Stros M’kai. But now a new purpose was found for the vessel.
Mirvyn smiled at the proposal, and brought out a large document from the satchel flung over his shoulder. He lowered himself to his knees, and rolled out the parchment upon the floor between the Warchief and himself. Upon the parchment were odd symbols, and crude paintings of vast creatures, consuming trembling men, in the centre was the eye of Mora, his tentacles tempting other men toward the demons.
“For the orcs assistance in the attack upon Sondheim, my King has deemed this a viable solution to your… issue.” Mirvyn smiled at the last part, looking up upon Nakgu.
“What kind of sorcery is this? Those are daedric symbols!” Nakgu said, frightened by what he saw on the parchment.
Mirvyn’s smile broadened. “This is the sort of sorcery that will make you the High Chief of Orsinium.” He gestured with his hand to the scroll.
“This, is a summoning, of our lord Hermaeus Mora’s willing servant, a Lurker.”
He rose, grabbed the scroll, rolled it up and handed it toward Nakgu.
“Read it when the time is right, and it will do your bidding.” Mirvyn felt unnerved around sorcery as this, just as much as the Chief, but the feeling of power from wielding the favour of a Daedric lord upon your kingdom truly was a blessing.
This could be better then I thought. If a deadric creature kills Wrukaog, it will work as a message, that Malacath is angry at our decisions. So I will be able to convert the Bloody Fang to Malacath wroship.
Nakgu thought to himself upon reading the scroll.
“This concludes our deal, Mirvyn . Tell your king that I’m working on the payment.” said Nakgu as he extanded his hand, reading his palm.
Mirvyn smiled as he shook the orc's hand
“Our thanks, High-chief.” He said, putting an ironic tone upon the title. The Orsimer in front of him was to become new ruler of the Orcs, with the thanks of Silvermoon Dunmer, Thirlin would surely appreciate having the Orcs as his friends, if the situation escalated within Skyrim. Nakgu spent the rest of his day at the stronghold, then took to White Haven, the city that stood as a border between the Masterwings and The Bloody Fang. His new post was to defend that city with all costs.