Vanguar
Current Leader/Government: High Chief Skar Bloodwroth
Settlements Owned: 4
Provinces Owned: 1
Population: 100 000
Standing Army:
- <The Vanguard>/<900 Orcs>/<Fighting in Amplesh>/<Morale 60%>
- <Grimmhold Levy>/<1, 500 Orcs>/<Fighting in Amplesh>/<Morale 50%>
Population Happiness: 45%
Imports:
Exports: Iron, Spice
Wealth: Poor
Alliances: None
Trade Pacts: None
Cease Fires: None
The Band
Goi'Orka raises an army in rebellionThe band chamber within the spire of Grimmhold was a small intimate chamber compared to the grand throne room. Large open windows gave a breathtaking view of the surrounding fortress and spike like rocks that seemed to stab toward the man made castle threateningly. At the center of the room was a smooth slab of stone set with baskets of meats and roots, skins of grog and pots of water. Stryke sat cross legged at the table, joined by Haskeer and Calypso. The general sneered toward the door, drumming his large fingers atop the stone slab.
"Where the Gods is Jup?" Questioned Stryke. Haskeer shrugged and Calypso gave an empty stare. "Damn him. Let us begin. The scouts have reported back and the worst has befallen us. Wycke and Mordun are indeed in rebellion. Goi'Orka has raised their banners and mobilize an army to strike at Grimmhold. Dunland follows suit, striking an alliance with the Wycke fools. I do not know the nature of their agreement but I know their goal; taking the rule of Vanguar for their own."
"Curse the scum!" Spat Haskeer. "We must call on our own to fight these rebels."
"It will not be enough," warned Calypso. "We are gravely outnumbered." The elderly Orc looked toward the closed door. "We will need the aid of Mordun to weather this storm."
"What about the High Chief?" Questioned Haskeer. "Surely he will return with his army to bring order back to the clans."
"No," Stryke said quickly. "Keeping order is my charge, I will not sulk to my father like a hatchling fresh off the teat."
Calypso's maw quivered. "We must look to the Mordun then, it is the only way."
Stryke sighed, turning to Haskeer. "Go at once to Bloodwroth and call the banners. Assemble the Shale Ones and lead a defense against Dunland. Haskeer, do not allow the Dunland whelps to merge with the Goi'Orka. We must keep them apart as long as possible, wear them down and send them running back to their dunes. Go now." Haskeer stood up from the slab, bringing his fist hard to his chest in salute, spinning on his heels and out the door.
Calypso gave a weary look to Stryke. "I certainly hope Haskeer is up to the challenge."
"So do I, old one." Stryke stood up and started to the door. "My father has left Grimmhold vulnerable... We need allies to hold these walls." The general disappeared out the door.
* * * * * Stryke walked out of the spire, his blood fuming at the absence of Jup, the cur from Mordun. He found the whelp in the courtyard, sitting high up in a dead oak tree, the last remnant of the garden once tended by the humans. "You think clinging to dead wood will save you, Jup!" He snarled.
Jup let his legs dangle lazily from the branch, smiling down at Stryke. "You are far too serious, General. What ever ails you?"
"Your absence at the band meeting!" Stryke barked, slamming his fists hard into the trunk of the tree, causing the whole oak to tremble.
Jup laughed heartily, unmoved by the generals aggression. "And tell me why I should attend when I already know what was said and decided? The Shale Ones must be raised, but you are bound to Grimmhold, no doubt you sent Haskeer to lead this force, but it is not enough, no? So you have come seeking the aid of Mordun." Jup pulled a pile of powder from his pouch, inhaling it with his nose in a loud snort. "Is that about right, General?"
The fact that Jup was so casual with the coming rebellion, and that he had already concluded the events of the meeting, made the generals blood boil. He gripped the trunk of the tree with his large claws, shaking the tree violently. "Damn your hide, Jup! I will tear you apart, I swear it!"
The slender Orc laughed. "You would have to catch me first, General. Are you through? I find the manner of your request for allies to be a curious one. Har!" Stryke slumped his forehead against the rough bark of the tree. "You know I envy you, General. Circumstances have thrust you into power, but alas, none such can be said for me. My father leads strongly and my brother is poised to rule after him, and I, well I have nothing."
Stryke looked up the trunk with keen eyes. "Speak plainly, cur!"
"My father will join the rebellion, you know this. Your family is weakened and all will fight for the scraps offered at your table."
"I will kill you if Harrow dares raise sword and axe against me!" Stryke seethed through a clenched maw.
Jup laughed. "Kill me? Go ahead, General, but it will not stay my father's hand. I am his second son and hold no place in the thoughts of that chief. He sent me knowing full well he sends a hostage to this court, and did not give it a second thought." Jup suddenly dropped down from the tree, standing before the general, his amber eyes set hard upon Stryke's. "Give me the blessing of Grimmhold, send me back to Mordun and I shall return to you a Chief, with an army at my back."
Stryke bulked. "You think I would give aid to your lust for power?!"
"You have little choice, Stryke. You need friends." The lips of Jup curled in a smile. "I could be a good friend to you."
Stryke's eyes narrowed, thoughts of running the cur through flashed in his mind, but hate it as he might, Jup was right. He clenched his jaw. "See Calypso for blessings and bring me a mighty army."
"I will not fail you, General."
Jup started toward the spire. Stryke called after him. "Don't you dare fuck me, Jup. Don't you dare."
The amber eyes of Jup glinted. "Why General, we just met."
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