With a heavy sigh… you lift the sword up, gripping it with both hands.  Grolik doesn't even blink as you bring it down.  But you step slightly to the side, slicing clean through the arm of the orc to your left who handed you the sword.  He screams in pain as he falls over, and you run the second through the chest.

As you pull it out, you turn around just in time to deflect an attack from Galik.  As you circle him and parry his blows, Grolik tackles the third orc, turning his own dagger towards him.

"You've made the wrong choice, old friend," Galik says.  "I'm sorry."

You don't respond but, instead, block his swift attack.  Galik fights with ferocity, but you match this with skill.

As you hook your blade onto his hilt, you turn and twist, Galik flies forward.  He drops his sword for a moment but rolls and picks it back up.  Behind him, Grolik and the other orc still struggle, the dagger on the ground and both of them in a deadly grapple.

Galik twirls his sword as you circle each other.

"Drop the sword, Galik," you say.  "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Oh but it does.  Remember, you chose this!"

The last couple of words are emphasized by Galik swinging his sword down at you.  You easily dodge this and take a wide swipe, nicking his arm.  Galik hisses and swings at your head, which you duck as you plunge the tip of the sword into his calf.

Galik cries out in pain and staggers back.  You raise the sword before pausing, instead, taking a step back.

"You truly have gotten soft, Nolazir," he says.  "What happened to the ruthless orc I used to hear stories about?"

"Do you really think I want to kill you?" you say.  "You're the child of my dear friend Greusim.  He was like a father to me, why would I want to kill any of his children?"

"You're just a weakling and a pathetic leader, Nolazir," Galik says.  "My father would be disappointed in you."

With these words still in the air, Galik charges you, first swinging high but then veering low.  With a cry you barely manage to escape, the tip of the blade slicing into your thigh.  Gritting your teeth you slash his chest.

Not once, but twice and then three times; you swing the sword in a perfect arc of fury.  Galik's face twists as he staggers back, clutching his chest.  He raises his sword and stumbles forward, you easily deflect the strike and slam your foot into his knee.

Galik cries out and falls back, rolling to get away from what he thought would be a killing blow.  As he looks up, you see the seething hatred in his eyes.  His sword lays behind you, which he had dropped when you knocked him over.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Nolazir?"

You take a step forward, raising the sword.  As you do so, you remember the first day that Greusim showed Galik to you; when he was but an infant wrapped inside a blanket.  You remember the days of taking him out as a young lad, teaching him how to fish and about the plants and animals.  You remember the closeness you used to share, before Greusim fell, and this wrath took him over.
> You spare Galik
He may have lost his way, overtaken with wrath, but surely there must be another way to handle this.  You stop, and glancing around you see many orcs have gathered.  They seem to be expecting you to finish Galik off.

Despite your brutal nature, you cannot bring yourself to do it.  There is another way to handle this… he is just lost-

Something slams into you, forcing the wind from your chest, and as you fall your arms twist and you roll.

Stopping, you see Galik stepping towards you… twirling the sword, a smirk on his face.

You crawl back, lifting your arms up defensively as Galik raises the sword.

You cringe a bit as his arm twitches… but not for the reason you would expect.  Another arm shoots under it and grabs his wrist, twisting it back and to his side.  You pull yourself up, hands out just in case.

Galik snarls as he begins to struggle, but this is replaced by a gasp; his brow twitches and he drops the sword.  He staggers forward and reaches his arms out, and as he falls you catch him.  His face buries into your chest as he falls at an awkward angle.

Bewildered you look up to see Grolik, standing, a dagger slicked in blood in his hand.  His brow furrowed, he looks up from Galik and nods at you.

Upon Galik's back you see a stretch of blood dripping down his back.  The dagger wound placed expertly in his spinal column.  Rolling Galik over and kneeling, you hold him off the ground somewhat.  His eyes are blank and his mouth slightly agape, he did not suffer for very long.

"Damn it Galik," you say.  "It didn't have to be like this."

A few orcs walk forward, nodding at you.

"Chief," one says, "we will take care of him for you."

"No," you say.  "I'll handle it, let's untie the other orcs first though."

You walk with Grolik over to the orcs tied to the posts, the whippers having long since left.  Grunting, you begin the work of cutting their bonds, several orcs coming over to help.

"Can't say we'll miss him too much," one says.  "I know you were close to him, but he was a damn tyrant."

You sigh and continue your work.  After finishing up, you hoist your former friend over your shoulders and go to find somewhere to bury him…


It has been six months since you left to unite the tribes.  It has not been easy, but it has been largely successful.  There were a few that gave you trouble, refusing to join in the fight.  Even then, some of their members disobeyed and walked right out with you.  The rest will come around eventually.

Lately, the Council has sent several couriers with messages urging you to hold off in the fight against the Empire.  You always send them back with a "no."

It appears that the humans have really been pushing within the last month, and Galik seems to have taken charge over things since you have left.  Maybe he has finally matured and is ready to take over for you.

You wouldn't mind not having to worry about all of this; except for the fighting really.  It would be just like the war with the Wister Elves, someone points and you attack, broken up with random bursts of initiative and leadership.

At the same time, your axe itches to go into the fray.  That spark Gigalak ignited into all orcs has not gone out yet.  You begin to wonder where this course of action will take you when it begins to rain.

"It's raining again."

As you make your way back to your camp, you see that it has grown tremendously.  Many orcs shout and greet you as you enter.  While you have been pretty well liked by most of them, you didn't expect such an enthusiastic welcome.

"The chieftain has returned!"

"Hail Nolazir!"

"Our leader returns to us!"

You smirk a bit, it will be a letdown for some if they find out you're thinking of resigning over to Galik.

As you enter the main area of the camp where many of the orcish leaders live, you notice something is different.  Several posts have been erected, with orcs tied to them, while their comrades grimly whip them.

As you turn, looking between your old tent and some of the others, there upon the ground are three slain orcs.  Above them stands Galik, a fiery rage in his eyes.  Near them, stands Grolik, severely beaten and held back by three orcs.

"Galik!" you cry.

Galik breathes heavily and looks up from the corpses to meet your eye.

"Nolazir," he says prowling forward, "stand down!"

"What is going on?"

"These fools disobeyed me.  They were here to sabotage our efforts."

"What in Grikalia are you talking about?"

"These traitors spent weeks scheming and planning," Galik said, "but it was not that alone that caused this? Do you want to know what it was?"

You glare at him, lowering your chin a bit.  Your hands curl at your side as you prepare for anything.

"There are some in the Council who think we should give the humans quarter," Galik says, "parley with them, make an agreement.  These fools pushed this idea, even saying we should compromise with them."

Galik furiously spits on one of the corpses.

"This one thought that we should concede some land to be annexed with the Empire.  Fools."

While you can see the logic in his anger, something seems off.

"And the rest?" you ask.

"Not so keen on the idea of conceding land yet," Galik says, "but it was only a matter of time before the traitor would get them to turn over.  I know this."

"That's only one of three," you say, "and you think you can justify their executions with assumptions?"

"Nolazir, they were traitors.  I could see it!  It would not have been too long!"

"And what say you for Grolik?" you ask.  "What has he done?"

Grolik slowly looks up at the two of you, a dark look in his eyes.

"When I was… purging these traitors, he tried to intervene," Galik says, "using much the same words as you have.  Actually, he is lucky I haven't gutted him yet, seeing as he has been a pain these last couple of months."

Galik twirls his sword a bit before pointing it at the whipping post.

"I thought a nice whipping would get him to change his mind," he says, "but he sure is stubborn.  I have only spared his life because he spoke against these traitors, but then he ridiculed me for sending them to Grikalia early."

"So what do you intend to do?" you ask.

"I'm going to kill him," Galik says with a smirk.

"Or more like…" he grins, "you're going to kill him.  Prove your loyalty to your new chief, Nolazir"

Galik takes a few steps back, gesturing you to step forward.  As you do, the other three orcs raise Grolik.

As you stand in front of him, one of the orcs hands you a shortsword.  As you grip the simple weapon, the texture of the leather grip feels odd to you right now.

Grolik looks at you, shaking his head a bit.

"Don't do it Nolazir," he says.  "I think we know who the real traitor is."

You look at the blade, surely Galik has seen madness, but could you really kill the child of your dear friend Greusim?  The young orc who had often sat on your lap when you went to visit your now dead friend… all those years ago.

Who is Grolik?  You've known him for a few years, but he is just a lawless orc.  Still, he has shown great promise, and hasn't let you down yet.  Other than your first altercation, he has been a true friend.

Grolik looks into your eyes, there is no fear.  There is a quiet rage, and even a hint of sadness in his eyes.
> You kill Grolik
You level the sword, the placing the tip on Grolik's chest.  Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, Galik may be wild but you should be able to keep him in check.

"Really Nolazir?" Grolik says, "is this really what you're doing?"

Grolik's stare pierces you, his glare hard enough to cut steel and his voice unwavering.

"If this is really what you're doing," Grolik says, "Gigalak help me you better make sure I'm dead because if I make it out of this I'm coming for you bo-"

You grab his shoulder as hard as you can, thrusting the sword into his chest and through his heart.  Grolik's face scrunches up in pain, but only for a moment.  His eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls to the side.

Holding the sword, you stare at the bloody blade.  The weight of what you have done not quite hitting you, and this weapon of death seeming foreign for a moment.

As you lower the sword to your side, a hand slams into your shoulder.

"Hahaha!" Galik says, "good job Nolazir!  Guess he wasn't so tough after all, let's see him come back to get us from this one!"

Forcing yourself to laugh, you walk off with Galik, who starts to talk about some strategies.
> You conflict
In the following days, chaos has erupted throughout the camp.  The Red Handed and their allies dispersed themselves throughout the camp, then without warning began to butcher as many of your orcs as they could.

Trapped by a cliff behind you and the bulk of the late Grolik's forces ahead of you, the only viable cover is the rocks and wagons you hide behind.  They have a pretty good grip on the main camp area.  Once they finish fighting the rest of the camp, they will surely overwhelm you at any moment.

Arrow after arrow thuds into the wagon.  You fire an arrow back under one of the wheels, unsure of where the hell it landed.  In front of you the tents burn and the sounds of fighting ring throughout.  You didn't know there were so damn many of them until last night.

The minor nicks, scratches, and bruises you've received from fighting your way out pulsate through your body.  Galik sits next to you, nursing a grievous injury in his side.

As you, Galik, and the rest of the orcs fought your way through, some orc chucked a javelin into Galik's side.  It went through pretty deeply and you are surprised that he is still alive, although he won't be if you do not get him treatment soon.  Even then his chances are probably slim.

You witnessed Hidius walking out of his tent to see the commotion, and immediately was stabbed in the chest before you could help.  Silak fought valiantly to defend his dying chief, but was ultimately overwhelmed.

Gro'tesk might be dead by now, you didn't see what became of him.  You're not too sure about Rolomag either for that matter.  You had not seen him since late yesterday, and as far as you know he wanted to speak with Gro'tesk.  So they're either standing together or already dead.

Gasping and panting, Galik stands up and directs some of the orcs around you.

"You, crawl that way," he says, "and you, keep shooting damn it!"

He kneels and grips another orc by the shoulder.

"Finish this up, damn it!"

A team of orcs furiously work on a contraption similar to the siege breakers you constructed during the war with the Wister Elves.  Actually, you recognize a lot of the orcs around you from those days.

Galik slumps against the wagon, gritting his teeth.

"Nolazir," he says, "we're going to try to break through.  We'll have archers at the sides covering you, follow us, and when we get close enough break out and rush them."

While the path you have to go is pretty narrow, you're sure this will only lead to your doom.  Well, so would sitting here eventually.
> You follow Galik's Lead
"Yes Chief," you say, "bring one of these shields."

Luckily, one of the wagons happened to have a bunch of weapon and shield supplies in it.  Galik hands the shield back to you.

"Gigalak will shield me," he says, "besides, I don't know how much longer this dressing will hold without my hand."

"I'll see this through to the end with you," you say.

As the orcs finish up the siege breaker, you all get into position.  A few orcs begin the slow push, as Galik stands in the middle of it barking orders and taking cover.  Raising your shield you get into the column, a couple of arrows already hitting and bouncing off your shield.

You all make a sort of wall with the shields, but many orcs are still struck down.  Some of yours fire arrows over the shields and the siege breaker, a few even managing to kill or wound some of your foes.

As you get closer, you see the Red Handed preparing to charge.  You brace yourself for their attack.
> You use your bow
You hand an orc your shield, as his is riddled with arrows.  Getting behind him, you notch an arrow to your bow.  Taking aim as the orcs ahead cry out and begin their charge.  Even as you aim, an arrow glances off your cheekbone, but it does not sway you.  You release your first arrow, the receiving orc stumbling and falling still.

The gleam of bloodlust in your eyes, you fire arrow after arrow.  Mostly killing and wounding offending orcs.  When your quiver runs out, you start ripping arrows out of the shield on the ground next to you, using the projectiles that haven't broken.

The Red Handed push into your line, many of your orcs rushing forward to take them on.  They actually hold them off pretty well for a good while.  But as they exhaust and succumb to their injuries, you see there is no way you will win this.

You push forward with the orc in front of you as they start to surround Galik, making a desperate attempt to get to him.  The orc in front of you drops you his quiver and heroically dashes into the fray, almost immediately he is beat down and killed by your enemies.

You move forward with the other archers, roaring as you make your way to your leader.  As the Red Handed flood around him, he has no choice but to climb atop the siege breaker.  Orc after orc is cut down trying to get to him.

You charge forward, deflecting a sword with your bow.  The orc's face crunches as you smash the bow into his face, the heavy wooden weapon turning his face into red mush.  You throw it at the next, which doesn't do much but give you an opportunity to axe him in the neck.

Before you can do anything, Galik takes a spear jab in the back.  Two orcs climb up and one grabs him, the other using his dagger to stab the shit out of him.

You hook the axe shoulder behind the knee of one of those lawless scum, arcing it back around and slamming it into his face.  As the orc sputters and cries out, you try to pull the axe out, but it won't budge.  The bastard even grips the top part of the handle, pushing it deeper into his face.

You struggle with him until you feel a heavy pain in your chest.

"Argh!"

Above you, a Red Handed quickly retracts his spear.  You roar as you charge up, but the dying orc below grabs your leg, causing you to fall.  The orc with the spear begins to stab you in the back, as other orcs stab you and beat you down with clubs.

You cry out in pain and anger, but you are too weak to do anything else.  In moments you are left to die, broken, bloody, and bleeding out….


"Yes Chief," you say, "bring one of these shields."

Luckily, one of the wagons happened to have a bunch of weapon and shield supplies in it.  Galik hands the shield back to you.

"Gigalak will shield me," he says, "besides, I don't know how much longer this dressing will hold without my hand."

"I'll see this through to the end with you," you say.

As the orcs finish up the siege breaker, you all get into position.  A few orcs begin the slow push, as Galik stands in the middle of it barking orders and taking cover.  Raising your shield you get into the column, a couple of arrows already hitting and bouncing off your shield.

You all make a sort of wall with the shields, but many orcs are still struck down.  Some of yours fire arrows over the shields and the siege breaker, a few even managing to kill or wound some of your foes.

As you get closer, you see the Red Handed preparing to charge.  You brace yourself for their attack.
> You charge
You draw your sword, preparing it as you raise your shield.  With a roar you go forth to meet them, arrows from the archers flying to the sides of you and taking down some of your foes.

This barely slows them down, and they meet yours.  The orcs slow down the Red Handed, but as you duck, parry, deflect, and attack….the exhaustion is clearly written on your orcs.  Almost a straight twenty four hours of combat and sustaining injuries seems to be taking it's toll.

You slowly and steadily retreat as your allies fall one by one.  Ahead, Galik and the rest of the orcs at the siege breaker are being flooded by the Red Handed.  Galik climbs atop the contraption as he makes his stand, cutting down any foe brave enough to try to face him.

Roaring, you and a few other orcs break your line to fight your way towards Galik.  Most of the other orcs rally to you and help you to push forward.

Dodging a blow, you slice through an orc's face.  He shouts out but before he can do much else you've already slashed his neck.  As you lunge forward you parry a blow, slamming your blade straight through the offenders chest.

His arms flail in front of him, and as you wedge the blade to get it out his blood spouts from it.  Another orc swings, his sword glancing off your cheek bone.  Roaring in fury, you slash through his knee and he falls gripping his stub.

Galik slams his sword into an orc's skull, but it is in too deep for him to wrench it out.  The orc falls and the sword slips from his grip.

"Galik!" you shout as you throw him your sword, and in one motion he catches it and slices through an orc's chest in mid climb.

Brandishing your axe you charge forward, cutting down several orcs in a fury, but not without sustaining some injuries yourself.

Panting and heaving, you climb onto the top of the siege breaker.  The both of you stand back to back fighting off orcs, as the rest of your allies are swallowed up.  As your weapon clashes with others, and blood is shed, you hear a gasp behind you.

Turning, you see there is a dagger wedged into Galik's knee joint.  He falls and you reach out to catch him, but miss by a hair.  Galik is dragged into the crowd of orcs, you slash, beat, stab, and jab at him.

You roar and slam your axe into the nearest orc.  Before you can fall another, a flail flies forward, wrapping around your leg.

The orc pulls with a grunt, and steps back, dragging you off the glorified wagon.  You howl in pain and rage as the surrounding orcs begin to stab you and beat your with their clubs and fists.

You meet much the same fate as Galik….


In the following days, chaos has erupted throughout the camp.  The Red Handed and their allies dispersed themselves throughout the camp, then without warning began to butcher as many of your orcs as they could.

Trapped by a cliff behind you and the bulk of the late Grolik's forces ahead of you, the only viable cover is the rocks and wagons you hide behind.  They have a pretty good grip on the main camp area.  Once they finish fighting the rest of the camp, they will surely overwhelm you at any moment.

Arrow after arrow thuds into the wagon.  You fire an arrow back under one of the wheels, unsure of where the hell it landed.  In front of you the tents burn and the sounds of fighting ring throughout.  You didn't know there were so damn many of them until last night.

The minor nicks, scratches, and bruises you've received from fighting your way out pulsate through your body.  Galik sits next to you, nursing a grievous injury in his side.

As you, Galik, and the rest of the orcs fought your way through, some orc chucked a javelin into Galik's side.  It went through pretty deeply and you are surprised that he is still alive, although he won't be if you do not get him treatment soon.  Even then his chances are probably slim.

You witnessed Hidius walking out of his tent to see the commotion, and immediately was stabbed in the chest before you could help.  Silak fought valiantly to defend his dying chief, but was ultimately overwhelmed.

Gro'tesk might be dead by now, you didn't see what became of him.  You're not too sure about Rolomag either for that matter.  You had not seen him since late yesterday, and as far as you know he wanted to speak with Gro'tesk.  So they're either standing together or already dead.

Gasping and panting, Galik stands up and directs some of the orcs around you.

"You, crawl that way," he says, "and you, keep shooting damn it!"

He kneels and grips another orc by the shoulder.

"Finish this up, damn it!"

A team of orcs furiously work on a contraption similar to the siege breakers you constructed during the war with the Wister Elves.  Actually, you recognize a lot of the orcs around you from those days.

Galik slumps against the wagon, gritting his teeth.

"Nolazir," he says, "we're going to try to break through.  We'll have archers at the sides covering you, follow us, and when we get close enough break out and rush them."

While the path you have to go is pretty narrow, you're sure this will only lead to your doom.  Well, so would sitting here eventually.
> You stay here and cover Galik
"Galik" you say, "let's hold out here."

"We need everyone to push through."

"No, if we stay here we can shoot them when they inevitably charge us," you say, "we will probably die anyway, but we can whittle down their numbers a bit."

Galik nods and prepares his bow.  You pass along the order for everyone to stand their ground and wait for the time to fire….

But it never seems to come.

Two days later, the fighting has calmed down in the camp, many of your orcs apparently having managed to escape if they weren't killed.

Now most of the Red Handed are focused on launching volley after volley of arrows at you.  Many of you manage to shoot back, sometimes killing and wounding theirs.  But they have you beat down pretty well.

As you stand to fire an arrow, a sharp pain shoots through your chest.  Gritting your teeth you kneel down, gripping the arrow lodged in your chest.  You snap the shaft in half, knowing that pulling it out would only really cause you to bleed out faster.

Still, this isn't the first time you have been shot with an arrow.  You sit down against the wagon next to Galik.  He is not doing so well, having developed a fever, and his wound becoming red and filled with pus.

An orc bends as low as he can as he dashes over to you.  Right before he can yell his message an arrow tears into his forehead.  He looks up at it, almost going cross eyed.  The orcs mouth moves but no sound comes out, and he collapses.

Looking around, your orcs seem dispirited.  Many nursing wounds that will eventually be the death of them anyway.  One tired looking orc crawls his way over to you.

"Nolazir," he says, "I was with you during our fight with the Wister Elves.  I will remain with you until the bitter end."

"The bitter end is already here, my friend," you respond.

Galik wheezes and grabs your shoulder.

It's time," he says while bearing his sword.

"They've already got us beat," he says, "we mind as well go out on our feet."

You and the other orc help Galik up as he struggles to stand.  He manages to get his own balance though.

"Friends, warriors," he says, "the end is here.  I say we honor our fallen comrades, and go out on our feet as Gigalak intended it to be."

Galik's voice is raspy and weak.  The remaining orcs all nod and prepare to charge.

"Forward!" Galik cries.

As you and your young friend storm forward, you do not hear the rest of the orcs going.

"What is the this?" Galik says, as you both see the other orc dead on the ground, an axe in his skull.

One of the orcs gestures to the dead orc with the arrow in his head.

"The Red Handed gave us an ultimatum while you were busy talking about how best to get us all killed," he says.

"What are you-" you say.

"Shut up," he says, "this fool was going to tell you."

"Tell us what?" you ask.

Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the trust in your fellows.  But under normal circumstances you should have seen this coming.

"It's better if we show you."

About a dozen orcs notch their bows, you reel back in surprise, inhaling deeply.

"I order you to-" Galik is cut off as several arrows hit him, he immediately drops.

You only get a moment to roar in rage as several more arrows pierce your chest.  You stagger back, blood starting to ooze out of your body.

"Argh! I'll fucking kill you!"

Before you can muster anything else your old friends have restrung their bows.

"By Gigalak's blood I'll-"

Arrows whistle through the air and slam into your body, gritting your teeth and writhing in pain as the deadly projectiles tear through your flesh and organs.

You go down, yelling an unintelligible garble, as you fall into a rage filled heap.  Twitching you lay there, all of your senses stopping as a haze slowly envelops your vision.


You've traveled far the past three months total, gaining the support from large and small tribes alike.  It has been tough convincing some, but others are far more agreeable.  From the reports you've heard, it's put much less pressure on your army, for now.

On the downside, Galik and Grolik have managed to engage the Mannate Empire in some larger skirmishes than you would have liked.  Rolomag and the other more reliable orcs haven't been able to keep them in check as well as you had hoped.

As you ride on, one of the coastal villages comes into view.  The sun bearing down upon you, in the distance you see a number of orcs.  Some seem to be fishing with nets and spears, and some seem to be enjoying the sun.  A few unsurprisingly wrestle in circles made of seashells.

Several wooden boats float lazily among the waves.  One orc saunters over to you, his skin a much darker shade of green due to generations of living out here.  Yours is a much lighter shade of green.  The orc stops several feet away from you.

"Who are you?"

"Nolazir."

His eyebrows arch and his eyes widen a bit.  A small grin spreads across his face.

"I have heard of you, fighting off the humans.  Making your rounds to many of the villages and tribes.  That is why you are here?"

"Yes."

The orc chuckles as he leads you toward the village.

"I don't think we'll be able to help you, friend," he says.

"All of us are at stake," you say.  "We need all the people we can get."

"We're having our own issues.  We can't save everyone else when we can't even save ourselves."

You grunt, scanning the area.  Nothing seems to be happening.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Silak," he says, "I just do the fishing around here.  The chief is inside."

He gestures into a small wooden hut.  You nod to him in thanks and step inside, the old wood steps creaking a bit.

Half of the hut is dark, the rest illuminated by the sunlight entering between the wooden beams above.  Some tarp seems to be covering the rest of it.

You stop short as a figure steps out of the shadows, an orc with several wrinkles on his face.  His raven dark hair contrasted by a multitude of grey hairs throughout.  His face turns up into a weary smile.  His dark green skin hiding him well, until he steps into the rays of light.

"Welcome, friend," he says.  "I am Chief Hidius."

"I am Nolazir."

It is just then that you notice the severe burn marks covering Hidius' body.  His face, from what you can see, is even a bit distorted.

"I know why you are here."

"Will you join me?" you ask.

"No."

"But-"

"Walk with me."

The chief puts his hand on your shoulder, slowly leading you outside.  As you step into the sunlight, you realize Hidius injuries are more severe than you thought.  It appears as though his nose has been smelted off of his face.  You're surprised that his hair is still growing though, which should not be possible.

"How... is your hair still growing?"

"A rude question to ask of my deformities."

"I'm sorr-"

"No.  It's alright, no one has asked in a long time, some around here know the story.  Others think it's crazed nonsense."

Hidius waves a hand to change the subject.  He stops and gestures to the village and the waters ahead.

"Gigalak gave us these lands and these waters so that we could live wild and free.  The Mannate Empire wants to take that from us."

"So help us stop them."

"We can't… I can't," Hidius says.  "I am dying and so is my village."

"What do you mean?"

"We've been cursed, you see, as made apparent by my condition."

"That's nonsense," you say.  "Taking heavy burn wounds isn't going to damn the rest of the village.  Besides, they look fine to me."

Hidius chuckles.

"It won't be today, or tomorrow, or even a decade from now, but we're all doomed.  I've seen it."

Hidius closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Whether or not we stop the Mannate Empire… something far worse is waiting to take us into a grip of fire."

"Stop this," you say, "and tell me what you mean."

"Nothing we really do this day matters anymore, I have seen it."

You take a deep breath and try to stop yourself from shaking the older orc in frustration.

"No matter what is going to happen, you can't just lay down and die."

You gently put a hand on his shoulder and turn him around to face you.

"We're orcs damn it, and we fight everything that gets in our way.  Living, dead, hell, Empire, whatever it may be.  We don't just lay down and die."

The chief smiles slowly.

"While that may be true of you and yours, I am old and tired of fighting.  I've seen enough horrors to last one thousand lifetimes.  Our time is useless."
> You say "Stop Moping"
"Listen, Hidius," you say.  "You need to stop moping around and do something.  The only thing that is going to doom you and your tribe to extinction is this attitude of yours."

Hidius' eyes widen in surprise at your words.

"Even though you've been through much, they all look up to you.  You need to be their guiding hand, show them how to live a life by example, show them how to defend it too."

"I can't- there's no way we'll ever stop the oncoming darkness-"

"Enough of that talk, it's spreading to everyone here.  The second thing that came out of Silak's mouth was this doom and gloom shit."

Hidius looks down for a moment.

"Perhaps my suffering has made me weak, when it should make me stronger."

"Yes, look.  They all need you.  We all need you," you say.

"Fine."  Hidius clenches his fists. "I will gather my forces and take them to meet your army."

"Be quick.  The Mannate Empire is becoming a faster and larger beast every day."

Hidius nods and calls over a group of orcs.  You can't hear what he says but they all split up to gather more orcs, so you can only imagine that he is keeping his word.

As you ride off into the burning rays of the sun, you hope that your words actually got through to Hidius.

You ride on, to where you think the next tribe should be.  Perhaps you will find somewhere to hide from the sun for a bit first…


Lifting your knee, you hop forward and act as though you are about to kick Gro'tesk's shin.  He brings one hand down to push your leg away, and in this moment you slam your foot into the ground, lurching forward.

In the same movement, you reel your fist back and then bolt forward.  Your knuckles hit him straight in the forehead, this is followed by another swift hit right under his eye.

Gro'tesk grunts and staggers back.  With a mighty roar he charges you, slamming one punch into your chest.

"Oof!"

The blow knocks the wind out of you, throwing you to the ground.  Chief Gro'tesk savagely lands a quick kick to your face.  Reeling to the side you land face first in the dirt, the heavy pounding of his feet stopping as he lifts his foot again.
> You knock Out
Rolling to the side, his foot smashes into the ground inches away from your head.  Pulling your foot back, you shout as you slam it into Gro'tesk's knee.  As his knee pushes in, he cries out and falls forward, catching himself with his hands.

You push yourself up into a crouch as you run forward, reeling your fist back.  But you lose your balance and skid forward.  Fortunately, you use the momentum to plant your fist into the side of his head.  He grunts as the full force of your attack hits him, his head snapping to the side and his body twisting.

He lays still, and you crawl backward, just in case….

But he just lays on the ground.  All of the onlookers gasp, never having seen their mighty chief get knocked out cold.  You stand up and dust yourself off, and just right after the chief rolls over onto his back.

Rubbing his face and sitting up he looks at you, still dazed.

"I win.",

He stares at you blankly for a moment.

"Fine!"

With the help of a couple of onlookers, he stands up and stumbles his way over to his hut, rubbing his head as he tries to figure out how he could have lost.

You smirk and follow him in to give him your terms.


Fists raised, you step to the side, constantly circling your foe.  Gro'tesk does likewise, a sadistic grin spread across his face.

With a huff you step forward, your fist twisting as the arm propels it forward.  Gro'tesk's cheek ripples and his head turns as he moves with the punch.  At the same time his fist flies, you manage to knock it away.

Ducking under, you slam your left fist into his ribs and come back up slamming into his jaw.

Gro'tesk staggers back, bewildered at your speed.  Although you are quite a large orc, he is bigger than you.

He throws a backhand, which hits your defending arm.  As he brings it back, he sends his other fist forward, which you manage to parry.  But, in your rush, you accidentally lower your right arm a bit too far…

As it connects a quick flash of dark splits through your vision, but only for a brief moment.  As you stagger back, a pain shoots through your jaw.  Managing to duck another blow, you push your opponent back, a move he was not expecting.

As you try to regain your ground, you feel a fuzziness spreading throughout your head.  Getting punched sucks.

As you step forward, you consider your next move…
> You swift Punch
Keeping your elbows tucked in, you send out several punches.  The first three land well, hitting Gro'tesk's face.  The next two don’t go so well.  As your foe dodges the next, you lose form and go wide with your fifth punch, and he easily sees it coming.

He actually manages to catch your fist, twisting your arm to the side with one hand.  As you bring your left arm up to defend your face, his large fist slips in under it.  Your head kicks back as you feel the pain ripple through your mouth, the lip busting open.

Gro'tesk lets go of your arm as you stumble back, and he lands another fist into the side of your head.  A throbbing pain emanates from the side of your head.

Your opponent grins as you stagger in a daze, he prepares the finishing blow…
> You catch his Wrist
Shuffling to the side a bit, you stare at your foe, your hands at your side.  He snarls and lunges forward for the last strike.  You lean back, then step to the side as you grab his wrist with your outermost hand.  You pull it down with as much force as you can, and with your arm closest to him you run your elbow along his straightened arm for a moment.

Your elbow collides, hitting him right between the eyes.  His face scrunches up, and, as you let go, you step right in front of him; reeling your fist back you snarl as you ram it into his nose.  His head jerks back and his feet slip out from under him, landing with a heavy thud.

Panting, you step back and watch him as he lays still.

With a groan he shuffles, rubbing his face with his hands.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I won the fight."

"Aww, come on!" he complains.  "I wanted to win!"

"No, I won fair and square."

"Fine!" Gro'tesk groans.

As he pulls himself up, he mumbles under his breath.  He signals to you to follow him into his hut.  The crowd stares in awe, as they have never seen anyone beat their leader down before.


Fists raised, you step to the side, constantly circling your foe.  Gro'tesk does likewise, a sadistic grin spread across his face.

With a huff you step forward, your fist twisting as the arm propels it forward.  Gro'tesk's cheek ripples and his head turns as he moves with the punch.  At the same time his fist flies, you manage to knock it away.

Ducking under, you slam your left fist into his ribs and come back up slamming into his jaw.

Gro'tesk staggers back, bewildered at your speed.  Although you are quite a large orc, he is bigger than you.

He throws a backhand, which hits your defending arm.  As he brings it back, he sends his other fist forward, which you manage to parry.  But, in your rush, you accidentally lower your right arm a bit too far…

As it connects a quick flash of dark splits through your vision, but only for a brief moment.  As you stagger back, a pain shoots through your jaw.  Managing to duck another blow, you push your opponent back, a move he was not expecting.

As you try to regain your ground, you feel a fuzziness spreading throughout your head.  Getting punched sucks.

As you step forward, you consider your next move…
> You grapple
You shuffle forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm.  He grunts in surprise as you pull, while simultaneously planting a fist or two into his ribs.

Ducking under a swing, you grab his wrist with your other hand and slide the first up his arm and lock it around his elbow.  With all your might, you yank is arm forward and pull down.  Gro'tesk stumbles and falls, and, as you are about to twist his arm, you feel a savage kick land on the back of your knee.

Buckling and letting go of his arm, the foe pushes himself up.  Hearing him coming up right behind, you throw an elbow back with a savage snarl.  He catches it and wraps his hand around the back of your neck.

With a heavy grunt, he pushes you forward, using his control and momentum to keep you moving.  You cry out as he tosses you over a water trough and into a wooden rack with animal skins hanging from it.

You only half-catch yourself, and, before you can fully turn, Gro'tesk is right there.  With a sick grin, his boot flies into the water trough which slams into your stomach.  The wind is taken out of you, and you even manage to get a grip on it.  You cannot stop the force of the kick and the trough still goes down, pinning you to the ground from your waist.

The cold water spills out, pouring up over your belly and chest.  You feel like something sucks up into your chest as the cold makes you gasp.

With an unnatural nimbleness, Gro'tesk hops over the fallen trough.  He lifts his foot and brings it down.  Luckily you manage to catch his foot in time.  With both hands, you push as he does; both of your faces twisting with effort.
> You twist his leg
Crying out, you twist his ankle; Gro'tesk almost falls but catches himself on the skin rack.  With one hand you pull his ankle forward.  Your goes tries to stop himself from falling forward, his other leg straightening up.  You shout out, sending your other fist into his straightened knee.

A sickening crack resounds as your opponent's face twists up in pain.  He falls as he cries out, rolling into the skin rack as he nurses his injured knee.

Pushing the water trough off of you, now easier as it's empty, you hobble over to Gro'tesk.  He looks at you, a fiery rage in his eyes.

"You ruined my leg!" he screams.

"That was called winning."

He roars, almost springing up and grabbing you, but his leg buckles and he falls.

"Hey, it was your knee of my skull."

"Fine! You win fair and square!"

You stand to the side as several orcs help him limp into his hut.  The rest of the orcs from the village just stare at you in awe.


You shuffle forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm.  He grunts in surprise as you pull, while simultaneously planting a fist or two into his ribs.

Ducking under a swing, you grab his wrist with your other hand and slide the first up his arm and lock it around his elbow.  With all your might, you yank is arm forward and pull down.  Gro'tesk stumbles and falls, and, as you are about to twist his arm, you feel a savage kick land on the back of your knee.

Buckling and letting go of his arm, the foe pushes himself up.  Hearing him coming up right behind, you throw an elbow back with a savage snarl.  He catches it and wraps his hand around the back of your neck.

With a heavy grunt, he pushes you forward, using his control and momentum to keep you moving.  You cry out as he tosses you over a water trough and into a wooden rack with animal skins hanging from it.

You only half-catch yourself, and, before you can fully turn, Gro'tesk is right there.  With a sick grin, his boot flies into the water trough which slams into your stomach.  The wind is taken out of you, and you even manage to get a grip on it.  You cannot stop the force of the kick and the trough still goes down, pinning you to the ground from your waist.

The cold water spills out, pouring up over your belly and chest.  You feel like something sucks up into your chest as the cold makes you gasp.

With an unnatural nimbleness, Gro'tesk hops over the fallen trough.  He lifts his foot and brings it down.  Luckily you manage to catch his foot in time.  With both hands, you push as he does; both of your faces twisting with effort.
> You go for a cheap shot
Gritting your teeth as his foot gets closer and closer to your face, you're only left with one option.  He tries to pull his leg away, but you hold on tight.  Your wrap your hand over the top of his foot, pulling it so his heel skids across your chest.  Your other hand shoots upward, Gro'tesk's face twists in pain as he stumbles back and falls.  He rolls howling in pain, nursing his injured genitals.

With the water trough empty and no one trying to crush your skull, you have a much easier time pushing it off of you.

"No fair!" Gro'tesk cries, "that's cheating!"

"So is trying to stomp in my skull," you say, "but I did win."

"Fair is fair…and unfair is unfair!" Gro'tesk screams.

"Well, now you've learned that there are consequences to trying to stomp heads in."

Gro'tesk rolls to the side and pouts.

"Fine, you win," he says, "but I owe you a punch!"

Gro'tesk pulls himself up in a huff, and hobbles over to his hut.  Most of the orcs stare at you in awe as you follow, others give you disapproving looks for your chosen victory route.

Although you don't really care either way, you've won.


One Month Later…

The large wooden gates of the village creak open, the surrounding orcs casting suspicious glances your way.  A few even have their hands on some weapons nearby, and you do not blame them.

Riding in through the mist which veils dawn's light, you appear almost as a specter of death.  Lifting the hood, you give your brethren a weary nod.

A few of their eyes widen as they recognize you, some stand unsure of who you are, and some just shrug and go back to their business.

One orc approaches you.

"Who are you?"

"I am Nolazir, surrogate chief of the River Tribe in place of Chief Greusim."

The orc's eyes widen.

"It's been four years, and you have not found a replacement? Does he have any sons?"

You nod.

"One, but he is young and impatient.  I will stand in until he has learned how to do his duty with patience and wisdom."

The orc scoffs at the unthinkable act of leaving a tribe largely chief less.

"What is it that you seek?"

"I want to speak with your chief," you say.

The orc shrugs and gives you directions to the chief's hut.  That was a bit easier than you thought.

As you ride forward, the large hut comes into view.  You are impressed to see that it actually has two stories to it.  Most orcs chose to build one floor but with a wider house, although you are aware the council has at least three floors.

Pushing this useless information out of your mind, you hop off your horse.  Your legs are stiff from the long ride, and you take a moment to stretch them.

Muffled yelling comes out from within the doors of the chief's hut.  Splinters of wood fly as the door bursts open.  A hapless orc youth falls out and tumbles down the stairs.

A large, broad orc steps out.  His dark mane falling past his shoulders, two sharp teeth protrude from his bottom lip.  His right eye looks like it is perpetually swollen halfway shut, a series of scars emanating from the side of his eye and going all the way to his ear.  On his head rests a helmet with two bullhorns attached to it.

His tribal necklaces jingle as he bounds down the steps, his boot landing in the young orc's face.

"Fool, how could you be so incomprenent?" he says, not realizing he butchered the word.

The youth prepares to defend himself, but the chief is too fast.  He twists the orcs arm and lands several fists into his ribs.  As he continues to beat the orc, you wonder if he will kill him.

While you have the strong urge to step in, you also don't want to get into another tribe's affairs.  They could easily kill you for interfering, although it wouldn't be the first time you have pissed off an orc chief.
> You stay out of it
The chief just continues to wail on the youngster, his nose battered and turned wrong.  Blood oozes out of his nostrils and his left eye seems to be swollen shut.  He tries to talk but it just comes out as garble.

"What!? I can't hear you," the chief screams, "you'll have to speak louder than that!"

The youth's mouth begins to move, and as he does so, the chief's hand lifts and curls into a fist.  The larger orc raises an eyebrow, daring the smaller to try to speak again.  Realizing he is being given a chance, the younger sighs and remains quiet.

"Coward!" the chief yells and drops the other orc onto the ground.

He just lays there, silently soaking in the pain inflicted upon him.  The chief turns to you, satisfaction in his eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" he asks.

"My name is Nolazir, of the River Tribe…as some call it."

"Hah! Foolish name!" he says, "I am Chief Gro'tesk, and you are…..ah, Nolazir."

He grins.

"I've heard of you, fighting the humans….but you let your warriors argue with you," he says, "you have gone soft!  You should pummel them into the ground whenever they so much as look at you the wrong way."

"Maybe I'm not so harsh to my own," you say, "but I don't give that same kindness to strangers."

Gro'tesk's eyes narrow, and he snarls.

"Are you threatening me?" he asks.

"No, I'm challenging you," you say, "if I win, you and your allies join me."

"If I win….you screw off!" Gro'tesk growls.

By now, a large group of orcs has gathered around.  All of them cheering on Gro'tesk as he removes his tribal necklaces.  They make a circle around you as you prepare to fight…


The Imperials try to hold out, managing to down a few orcs, but, in the end, they are overwhelmed.  You stand, stabbing an Imperial with one of their own spears repeatedly.  His friend, clutching an injury, swipes his blade at you.  You step back to dodge and ram the spear into his throat.  Gurgling as he goes down he swings once more; his blade scratches your hand but not too deep.

Twisting and pulling the spear, you yank it from his corpse.  You run forward, seeing the orcs beating down a group of Imperials.  The last few men seem terrified, and one not older than seventeen trembles.  If you could hear over the sound of the fighting, you would be able to hear his knees causing his hauberk to clink together.

Before you can reach them, the rest of the orcs have stabbed and battered them into oblivion.  Some orcs ride into the forest to find the fleeing soldiers.

You pant, watching the massacre taking place all around.  Wounded men cry out, and some lay there dying quietly.

An orc approaches you, the frenzy of blood-shed just starting to wear off.

"What shall we do with the wounded?" he asks.

You sit there and think for a moment.  Orcs have never really taken prisoners, and you don't have the supplies to care for their wounded.  You are worried about having enough medical supplies for your own as it is.

Although it might help to take some of them ransom, there is not too much that you would need, so maybe just leaving them to die would be better.
> You leave them
"Leave the wounded," you say.  "Gigalak will decide their fate!"

Most of the orcs obey, although many still loot the corpses.  Some of the more savage orcs cut the scalps from the still living and squirming men despite your order.

You walk through the dead and wounded, picking out the orcs who plead for your help.  Some you know cannot be saved, and others can while being grievously wounded.  With all the orcs gathered, you and many of the other orcs set to work helping them.

You have saved many lives this day, working over the sound of groaning Imperials dying in the mud just outside.

You see Grolik looking around, putting a spear tip to a wounded human.  With a grunt he pushes, sending the dying man to his fate.  It would seem as though that is not the first or the last he has killed in this manner.  You catch his glimpse for a second, shame written across his face.

While he does not seem the type for emotions like that, putting helpless people out of their misery must take a certain toll on one.

On a rock sits Rolomag, nursing a gash on his face using a rag.  He just watches some of the orcs finishing off the dying Imperials.  Most of them do not seem happy about it, but maybe they believe it right not to prolong their suffering.

You turn your attention back to your work, ending the suffering of friends in a much different manner.  The orc whose deadly injury you have just cleaned and sewn up thanks you as he hobbles away.


The Imperials try to hold out, managing to down a few orcs, but, in the end, they are overwhelmed.  You stand, stabbing an Imperial with one of their own spears repeatedly.  His friend, clutching an injury, swipes his blade at you.  You step back to dodge and ram the spear into his throat.  Gurgling as he goes down he swings once more; his blade scratches your hand but not too deep.

Twisting and pulling the spear, you yank it from his corpse.  You run forward, seeing the orcs beating down a group of Imperials.  The last few men seem terrified, and one not older than seventeen trembles.  If you could hear over the sound of the fighting, you would be able to hear his knees causing his hauberk to clink together.

Before you can reach them, the rest of the orcs have stabbed and battered them into oblivion.  Some orcs ride into the forest to find the fleeing soldiers.

You pant, watching the massacre taking place all around.  Wounded men cry out, and some lay there dying quietly.

An orc approaches you, the frenzy of blood-shed just starting to wear off.

"What shall we do with the wounded?" he asks.

You sit there and think for a moment.  Orcs have never really taken prisoners, and you don't have the supplies to care for their wounded.  You are worried about having enough medical supplies for your own as it is.

Although it might help to take some of them ransom, there is not too much that you would need, so maybe just leaving them to die would be better.
> You take them prisoner
"Take them as prisoners," you shout.  "We will take them as ransom."

You divide your orcs, some of them gathering wounded orcs to aid them with their injuries.  The rest gather up the wounded Imperials worth saving.  Some are too wounded, so are either put out of their misery or left to die.

You grab a dying Imperial soldier, the young human sort of whimpers.  He must believe you are going to kill him, but his eyes widen in surprise as you clamp his wound.  You lift him up and carry him to some of the tents erected for the wounded.  There are many more orcs in here than humans, as most are focusing on the orcs, who they find more worth saving.

The soldier winces and grunts as you pour alcohol into his wound.  Alcohol and blood running from the gash in his side.  He groans in pain as you sew his wounds, then when it seems he is set, you tie his hands and place him under the guard of some other orcs.

You go, helping orc and human alike.  In the group, you are surprised to see Grolik eagerly helping a human.

Strangely, he seems compassionate towards the wounded fellow as he wholeheartedly stitches his wounds up.  You are surprised to see this trait from an orc such as Grolik.  After witnessing him brutally butcher and maim countless enemies, it comes as a bit of a shock that he is not looting or scalping the helpless foes.

While aiding enemy soldiers does not come naturally to you, surely Gigalak would smile upon saving lives as opposed to wanton destruction of life, something only the grimmest of souls would take satisfaction with.


The last few months find you and your army in the forests by the border.  Reports had come of a legion of Imperials slowly making their way to the border.  In the meantime, you have amassed assistance from a few more orc tribes.  All the while, the Imperials wait, and your forces grow stronger and stronger.

You wait, while the rain pelts your face.  Every orc is silent as the ground starts to become muddy at the intensity of the precipitation.

You signal the orcs to move forward, a slow trod through the mud.  The Imperials are moving dozens of soldiers through, but if all goes to plan they'll never make it to the staging ground.  By the time you reach them, you are hoping their supply wagons will be stuck in the mud, and their horses antsy at every trick and sound of the forests.

When the time is right, you will strike, and make them pay.  If the Imperials seek to break their treaty, you will show them the consequences.  You all have your padded leather gambesons over your chainmail, extra leather straps tied around to reduce some of the clinking the chain tends to make.

Riding forward, you catch Grolik's eye, who nods at you.  Rolomag as well, who winks and pats his heart with his palm in a sign of respect.

Coming up to a ridge, you signal your forces to stop.  Creeping low through the foliage, you see the Imperial columns.  As suspected, their wagons seem to mostly be stuck in the mud.  At your signal, your archers start their painstaking crawl over to the ridgeline.

The other third, slowly bring their horses onto both sides of the columns, preparing their charge.  On the other side across from you, some of the lawless orcs should be preparing their attack on the Mannate soldiers.  The cavalry orcs should still be fighting their way through by the time the archers are done, and when that happens they will slide down the slope.  You don't want to run the risk of accidentally shooting your cavalry, so the archers will have to work fast, but by then the Imperials will be surrounded, and you should be able to crush them.

As the rain intensifies a bit, their horses get even antsier.  As the lightning strikes, the soldiers look into the dark forests, fear apparent.  When the thunder claps, their officers bark orders to hurry and move the wagons from the mud.
> You join the Cavalry
On your horse, you go around to join the cavalry.  As you do so, you signal the archers, the lightning briefly illuminating your warriors.  For a moment, the heavens are silent, the wind stops causing the trees to sway, and a single arrow soars through the air.

The Imperial officer lurches back, the arrow slicing through his shoulder.  He falls off his horse with a thud, and the rest of the soldiers try to escape, but it is already too late.

You and your cavalry have them caught in a pincer movement.  As you ride by, you lop an Imperial's head clean off his shoulders.  Before long, some of the humans have mounted horses in a vain attempt to buy their fellows time to escape.

Galloping through the mud, you rush to meet one of these foes.  Before you is a tired looking man, a wild look in his eyes as he gives a mighty battle cry.  His sword clashes against yours, the rain splattering off the twin blades.  You circle back to face him again, a slight burning sensation on your neck.  To your left an Imperial soldier stands, fixing another arrow, the first arrow's head had just lightly grazed your neck.

Ducking, you spur your horse forward, turning back around to face the man who you had clashed with before.  Three orcs are upon him, as one sends his club into the man's gut, the other two hack and slash him with swords.  It takes some time before they pierce the mail he wears, but they are effective.

Charging towards the small group of archers, you throw your axe.  The blade misses, instead the blunt side slamming into the man.  He holds his face, blood dripping from his nose.  A few arrows almost slam into you, but by the hand of Gigalak they are swept aside.  You ram your horse through, trampling two men and cutting another's chest open.

As you circle back around, you grab a spear from a leather pouch at the side of your horse.  Chucking it, the spear impales an Imperial.

By now your archers have joined the battle, and the Imperials are all but surrounded.  As they group up, they seem to realize the futility of their fight, and some even manage to run into the forest to escape.


While some Imperials have been killed, they are quickly whittling down your numbers.  To your left, you see the knight caught out of the line, trying to rally his soldiers.  You watch as an orc chops at his head with an axe, but it bounces off his helmet.  The knight rams his sword blade through the orc's armpit, pushing the dying orc off.

Another orc slashes, the blade harmlessly skidding across the helmet.  Before the orc is cut down, he slams the flat of the axe on the soldier's helm, slightly denting it.

You look to the Imperial with the protruding spear from his silver coat, and the knights dented helmet.  You get an idea…
> You impale the Knight
You pull one of your spears slung onto your back.  With a roar, you charge the knight, he looks in surprise, taking a swing at you.  You knock the sword to the side and ram the spear into his stomach.  The silver coat snaps and crunches, and, as the knight falls, you push the spear further into him.  You watch as crimson red oozes out from inside the coat as you twist and push the spear.  The imperial sputters and coughs from under his helm as he feebly reaches for his sword before going limp.  Ripping the spear out, you see the tip is mostly ruined.  If you hadn't kept pushing the dead man before, you would only have had a minor flesh wound.


As you get closer to him, you arc your sword over your head, aiming for his neck.  The Imperial soldier slams it away with the flat of his blade and, mid-push, brings his blade back down.  The sword cuts through your thick leather armor, biting into your shoulder.

You wince and grunt as he pulls his sword, the both of you passing each other and turning in preparation to charge again.  Behind him, you see that the orcs seem to have pushed the Imperial horsemen back a bit, and the orcs on the hill have wounded several archers in each column.

The battle is going well enough for the orcs.

As you charge the Imperial knight again, you consider your next move.
> You throw your axe at the horse
The horses gallop forward, the knight's elbow tenses and he leans forward on the horse.  He seems intent on running your through.  As you ride forward you let him think this will be a jousting match….

Like a bolt of lightning, you draw the axe at your side, throwing it at the Imperials horse.  The axe embeds itself in its forehead, and it lets out a pained neigh.  You dip to the side as it lurches forward, the knight being launched off with a cry of dismay.

As he lands a sickening crunch sounds out.  The knight groans and tries to pull himself up, but his arm is twisted and bent horribly.  He buckles and falls onto the ground, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.

"Come on, knave," the knight says, not moving, "what are you waiting for you brute?"

Before you can ride forth to finish him, a loud cry emanates from the forest behind you.
> You for the Emperor!
You turn your horse.  From out of the trees, an enormous group of humans comes rushing out, screaming and yelling.  You notice they are quite different from the knights. While some of them have the silver coats, most of them just have some kind of padding and the Imperial soldier robes.  Their boots, gloves, and helmets don’t look anywhere near as nice as the knights'.

These must be the lowly soldiers of the Empire, but there sure are a lot of them.  You turn again as you see the lawless orcs bring up a cry, charging towards the humans.  You watch as your comrades also charge the humans, so you decide you should as well.

Galloping forward, you prepare your axe.  A battle of strength versus numbers, you decide that Gigalak will decide the winner today.

You trample a couple of humans, their cries ringing out.  The axe bites into another, and as he dies his sword nicks your arm.  You slash, hack, batter, and even punch one.  A dying soldier cries out, digging his dagger into your side.  You gasp and slam your axe handle into his eye, a squishing sound resounds as blood squirts out and onto your leg.  He lets out a blood curdling scream as he flails, soon going limp and falling to the ground.

With the dagger still in your side, you circle back, needing to fight through a few more soldiers to do so.  Panting, you see that the battle is being lost for the orcs.  But some still fight on, despite their injuries and overwhelming odds.

Chief Greusim charges into the middle of it, laying waste to soldier after soldier.  His mighty club denting helmets and cracking skulls, breaking arms and busting jaws.

You watch as he cries out, someone plunging their sword into his side.  Gasping, you ride forward to save him.  But there are too many soldiers to fight through, and before you can reach him the grunts pull Greusim from his horse, stabbing, slashing, punching, and beating.  You see his own club being raised to be used against him.

All the other orcs in your tribe watch as the chief goes down, along with the other orcs he had around him.

There's just too many, you'll never fight through them all.

"Fall back! Fall back!" some orc cries out.

As you all do so, the lawless orcs seem shocked as to why.  Before they can get away, the Imperial troops have swept them up and begin to butcher most of them.  Few escape, and you even swing one onto your horse as you ride away.

You all ride into the forest, lucky to have escaped death on this day.  The same cannot be said for many others.

You exchange glances with Rolomag, who nods and pokes his chin to the valley.  Although you don't like the idea, you all will have to go there to recover and make plans….


As you get closer to him, you arc your sword over your head, aiming for his neck.  The Imperial soldier slams it away with the flat of his blade and, mid-push, brings his blade back down.  The sword cuts through your thick leather armor, biting into your shoulder.

You wince and grunt as he pulls his sword, the both of you passing each other and turning in preparation to charge again.  Behind him, you see that the orcs seem to have pushed the Imperial horsemen back a bit, and the orcs on the hill have wounded several archers in each column.

The battle is going well enough for the orcs.

As you charge the Imperial knight again, you consider your next move.
> You throw your axe at the knight
As you both ride forward, the knight tenses up, preparing to run you through.  Pulling the axe from its loop, you whip it forward.  The axe whirls landing in his shoulder, almost making him fall off his horse.  Despite this injury he manages to hang onto his horse, pulling the axe from his shoulder.

Yet there isn't the familiar sight of blood oozing from the wound, just a ripped robe and silver gleaming in the sunlight.

"You'll have to do better than that, brute," the knight says while twirling the axe.

Glaring at him, you accept his challenge, you spur your horse onward.

The knight does the same, holding both sword and axe in hand.  As he rides forward, you get an idea.
> You stab his neck under his helmet
You lean in as you ride forward, intent on pushing the tip of your sword under his helmet, which should pierce his throat.

As the knight gets closer, you lunge, pushing the blade forward.  He slams his sword into yours, simultaneously pushing it forward and sliding the axe blade along it.

Before you even realize what is happening, the sword blade is biting through your neck.  The axe follows tearing through your flesh, muscle, and severing your neck bone.  You barely feel a thing as your head rolls to the floor, your vision darkening as the knight rides on, and your body falls to join you.


As you both ride forward, the knight tenses up, preparing to run you through.  Pulling the axe from its loop, you whip it forward.  The axe whirls landing in his shoulder, almost making him fall off his horse.  Despite this injury he manages to hang onto his horse, pulling the axe from his shoulder.

Yet there isn't the familiar sight of blood oozing from the wound, just a ripped robe and silver gleaming in the sunlight.

"You'll have to do better than that, brute," the knight says while twirling the axe.

Glaring at him, you accept his challenge, you spur your horse onward.

The knight does the same, holding both sword and axe in hand.  As he rides forward, you get an idea.
> You use bow
Not wanting to get close to this knight, you decide to this would have to do.  Sheathing your sword, you sling your bow from your back, notching an arrow just as fast.

"Huh?" the knight says in surprise.

You release the arrow, and with a twang it soars through the air.  The knight barely has time to react before the arrow lands in between his helmet and silver coat.  It protrudes from his neck as dark blood spills out, a gurgling sound coming from his throat.

The knight struggles to stay up on the horse, falling onto the ground below.  You manage to recover your axe before you hear a loud cry coming out from the forest behind you.


With the strange campsite far behind you, the group seems to be more at ease.  The forest is much more serene and offers some peace and quiet.

A stream trickles by, as your horse steps over it, you hear some sounds up ahead.

Greusim looks over his shoulder at the group behind him, and you nod at him.

You, Greusim, Rolomag, Dekard, and some other orcs all leave your horses to go scout ahead.  The main group waits for your return.

The unmistakable sounds of violence penetrate your ears.  Peering from the foliage, you see two things.  The first must be Imperial soldiers, with their flat top helms and robes over what appears to be some kind of silver coat.

Cowards. The orcs only use some padding from their leather armor and sometimes studs.  Anything more would just weigh a warrior down and keep him from being effective.

From what you can see, they have two separate lines of archers by the trees, and in the clearing between them are soldiers on horseback.  Ahead, on a rocky hill, a group of orcs seems to be holding their ground, trading arrows with the Imperial archers.  Once in a while, an orc taking a shot at one of the horsemen, but always missing.

In between two groups lays a slain Imperial, a spear in his back, and a dead orc with the spear still gripped in his hands.  The orc has several arrows protruding from his back.  Judging by his face paint, it looks like these orcs are one of the lawless bands of orcs.

"We need to help them," Rolomag says as he starts forward.

You grab him by the shoulder, pulling him back.

"Stop. We don't know who started it," you say. "This isn't a proper orc tribe.  They're just some vagabonds."

"Does it matter? They're still orcs," Rolomag says.

"No, Nolazir may be right," Greusim says. "We should let the Imperials know they aren't working on behalf of all of orcin."

"Are you really going to listen to this?" Rolomag asks. "Nolazir, the Empire won't care either way.  They will blame all of us."

"No, we can make peace with them," Greusim says.

Greusim looks at you.

"You believe me, don't you, Nolazir?"

Chief Greusim looks genuinely concerned about whether or not you believe him or not.  You look to Rolomag, he raises an eyebrow, not lifting the scowl on his face for a moment.
> You help the Orcs
You look to Greusim.

"Sorry chief," you say, "Rolomag is right.  We need to work with the orcs, besides, the Imperials encroached on our lands."

You draw your sword.

"And there must be consequences."

You tell Dekard to get the rest of the orcs, in the meantime you wait.

"Nolazir," Greusim says, "I'm disappointed in you.  We're in no position, and we will never be in a position to fight the Empire."

"It's for the good of Orcin," you say, "we'll teach them a lesson."

The rest of the orcs arrive, and you look out towards them.

"Please chief," you say, "help us defend our home."

He looks at the ground for a moment, but returns to answer you.

"If you all think it is best, I will help you."

Making sure to stay in cover, you wonder what the best course of action would be.
> You attack the Horsemen
 Feeling bold, you suggest to go straight for the horsemen first, then fan out to the sides and wipe out the archers.  Some of the orcs have reservations about this plan, as it would place you right into the center of the archers.

But by Grikalia, you won't let some sharp objects scare you.

"We go in fast, and we go in deadly," you say raising your sword.

Most orcs nod, and some reluctantly agree, including Greusim.  You all get on your horses, waiting for the right moment, although there really isn't one.

On Greusim's command you all charge forward, readying your weapons to meet these humans.  The archers fire at your group, an arrow whirling right by your head.  The cries and thudding of fallen comrades sounds out as the arrows kill several of your comrades.

A low gasp, an arrow sticks out of chief Greusim's chest.  His face scrunches up in pain, but he ignores it and rides on, letting out a war cry of rage and pain.

One of the horsemen comes circling back from near the hill.  Seeing you all on the attack, he draws his sword, arcing it over his head as he rides towards you.

You decide to accept his challenge, arrows whirling around you and the sound of fighting in your ears.


You look to Greusim.

"Sorry chief," you say, "Rolomag is right.  We need to work with the orcs, besides, the Imperials encroached on our lands."

You draw your sword.

"And there must be consequences."

You tell Dekard to get the rest of the orcs, in the meantime you wait.

"Nolazir," Greusim says, "I'm disappointed in you.  We're in no position, and we will never be in a position to fight the Empire."

"It's for the good of Orcin," you say, "we'll teach them a lesson."

The rest of the orcs arrive, and you look out towards them.

"Please chief," you say, "help us defend our home."

He looks at the ground for a moment, but returns to answer you.

"If you all think it is best, I will help you."

Making sure to stay in cover, you wonder what the best course of action would be.
> You wipe out the Archers
Scanning the area, you decide it would be best to take out the archers first.  Your plan is to split the groups into two, each taking out a column of archers, and then catching the knights in a pincer attack.

You and the chief lead one group to the closest archers, and Dekard and another orc lead the others.  They take their group a longer way as their targets are further away.  Although you figure your distraction will let them take the other column even easier.

You slowly pass through the trees, the sounds of fighting slowly dying down until you creep up behind the archers.  The orcs prepare their weapons, waiting for the signal.

As you are about to charge, an Imperial archer steps out from behind a tree, adjusting his belt and sighing contentedly.  Although his hood is up and his mask is pulled up over most of his face, you see the surprise in his eyes when he sees you all.

"Attack!" he cries, and at this point you all gallop forward.

The archers scramble to get ready, and Greusim make a passing swing for the Imperial.  He ducks under, and in the same movement grabs onto Greusim and his horse, pulling himself onto it.

As you ride forward, and Greusim tries to throw the archer off, the Imperial draws a small dagger.  The chief cries out in agony as the Imperial buries the blade into his back.  The chief falls, taking the Imperial with him.

The other orcs are coming up on the archer column, several having been killed by arrows.  Greusim groans and the archer attempts to stab him, but he catches his wrist, and the push and struggle.  Normally Greusim could easily overpower him, but getting thrown off the horse must have done a number on him.
> You continue the Charge
Greusim seems to be doing well enough, so you decide to charge forward.  The orcs have broken through the middle of the column, leaving crushed and mangled corpses strewn about.  You break into the utter chaos, cleaving half of an Imperial's face off.

To the left a group of archers tries to form, and you attempt to go straight through them!

You duck low onto your horse, and as you approach them, you feel a stinging in your side.  You ignore it as your horse slams into some archers, screaming sounding out.  You lop another's arm off as you ride by, circling around and preparing to finish the group off.

One of the archers, helping a wounded friend, drops him and notches an arrow.  As you ride forward he lets it loose, and you grunt as the arrow buries itself into your thigh.  In anger you don't even bother using your axe, you just trample him and his friend with the horse.

Looking out, you see that the orcs have decimated most of the archers.  The other column seems to be in chaos.

Out towards the clearing, you see the lawless orcs have charged the Imperial knights, overwhelming them with sheer numbers.  They hack and beat the knights to pieces.

A hot pain shoots up through your body, and looking down, you realize you have an arrow buried into your side.  Groaning, you steer the horse over to the other orcs as they finish off the archers.

From out of the trees, Greusim stumbles out, panting and covered in wounds.  He has multiple gash marks and three arrows dug into his back, side, and hip.  Looking behind him, you see multiple archers laying broken and bloody on the ground.

The chief hefts his club over his shoulder.

"It'll take some more than some tender-bellies to take me down," he says.

The chief grunts as he pulls himself onto his horse.  As you ride to meet with the rest of the orcs, you break most of the shafts from the arrows on your body.  You leave a portion in so as not to make the injuries worse, and so that you can get them out later.

Your comrades seem to have wiped out the other column, and the lawless orcs you helped start to walk towards you.

Before you can do anything else, a cry rises up from the forest behind you.


Scanning the area, you decide it would be best to take out the archers first.  Your plan is to split the groups into two, each taking out a column of archers, and then catching the knights in a pincer attack.

You and the chief lead one group to the closest archers, and Dekard and another orc lead the others.  They take their group a longer way as their targets are further away.  Although you figure your distraction will let them take the other column even easier.

You slowly pass through the trees, the sounds of fighting slowly dying down until you creep up behind the archers.  The orcs prepare their weapons, waiting for the signal.

As you are about to charge, an Imperial archer steps out from behind a tree, adjusting his belt and sighing contentedly.  Although his hood is up and his mask is pulled up over most of his face, you see the surprise in his eyes when he sees you all.

"Attack!" he cries, and at this point you all gallop forward.

The archers scramble to get ready, and Greusim make a passing swing for the Imperial.  He ducks under, and in the same movement grabs onto Greusim and his horse, pulling himself onto it.

As you ride forward, and Greusim tries to throw the archer off, the Imperial draws a small dagger.  The chief cries out in agony as the Imperial buries the blade into his back.  The chief falls, taking the Imperial with him.

The other orcs are coming up on the archer column, several having been killed by arrows.  Greusim groans and the archer attempts to stab him, but he catches his wrist, and the push and struggle.  Normally Greusim could easily overpower him, but getting thrown off the horse must have done a number on him.
> You help Greusim
You whip the axe, the blade burying into the archer's shoulder blade.  He screams in pain as he stumbles to the side, almost tripping over Greusim.  He tries to pull the axe out, but Greusim gets a hand on it first.

Still on the ground, he wrenches the axe out, swinging it back around and slamming it into the Imperial's stomach.  He doubles over as the chief rips the axe out, and the Imperial falls to his knees clutching the wound.  With a savage cry, Greusim arcs the weapon back around, burying it into the Imperials neck.  He falls twitching and gurgling as his blood seeps out into the earth.

Panting, Greusim pulls the axe out, tossing it to you.

"Thanks," he says, and you nod at him.

The other orcs seem to be wrecking the column pretty well, even though several orcs have been shot down by the deadly volleys.

"Well, let's get to i-" Greusim says, almost stumbling as an arrow rips into his back.

You ride over, looping around the tree and lopping off an archers arm.

Several more materialize from the trees, firing at you.  Ducking you circle back around, hopping off your horse.  Sliding behind a tree, you and Greusim ready your bows.

Stepping out, you don't realize the archers were trying to creep up on you.  You slam your notched bow into his, causing his arrow to hit the dirt, before bringing yours back and shooting him in the throat.  He gurgles as he staggers to the ground.

Before you know it, the archers are charging you.  A couple arrows flying by you as you draw your axe.  To your right, Greusim cracks a couple of skulls with his club.  You deflect a sword, chopping into an Imperial's shoulder.

One jumps onto you, grabbing you and trying to restrain you.  His friend tries to run you through with his sword, but you step to the side.  The soldier's sword plunges into the tree, and as you raise your sword he desperately tries to yank it out.  He screams as you spill his blood onto the grass, specks hitting the tree.

The archer on your back grips your forearm, trying to turn your sword into you.  You chuckle and jab the sword back, the tip stabbing him in the face.  He cries out and you throw him over your shoulder, stomping on his neck to silence him.

You look up, ready to take the next one, but you see them laying crushed and bleeding around Greusim.  He pants as he kneels, deep cuts and gouges all over him.  Three arrows protrude from his back, side, and hip.  The archers must have thought the other two were going to kill you, and decided to all focus on him.

"Chief!" you cry out.

He stands up, waving you off.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he says, "let's go find the rest, Nolazir."

You nod and go with him to find the rest, mounting your horses.  As you ride out you see that both columns of archers have been destroyed.  The lawless orcs on the hill must have swept down and fought the knights, as evidenced by the butchered corpses on the ground.

Greusim climbs onto his horse as you ride forward.  Before you can do anything else, a loud cry rises up from the forest behind you.