Grim Views

Manus' Tale

Enheilras - November 6, 2005

Part 1:

“In the beginning, there was nothing, a void of darkness; of cold
eternity. When the perfect void was corrupted by light, a great
reeling was heard, and all the brethren fled in terror.”

--The Satyr Lord, Darkness

I remember being told that most of the original races grew from a
combination of the elements. As we all know, elemental forces are
inherently chaotic, and to put two of the four greatest chaotic
energies together to somehow create life is simply an amazing
event. However, to expect beings that have been twisted and given
breathe due to a random assortment of entropy to act with any
sort of true civility or inner order is ridiculous. To make
things worse, since elements are drastically polar in nature,
each is trying to destroy the other, perhaps not actively, but
the sheer presence of one inhibits the growth and prosperity of
the other. This could help explain why the driving force of every
race has ever been complete domination over the others, even
passively. By helping one’s people gather strength, you then take
it away from other people, as there is always the same amount of
energy existent in this universe.

The powers of Fire, Earth, Water, and Air have said to be at the
core of every living sentient race. The simplest only need one,
and are called Elementals. They are the base beings, and infused
with the raw power and chaos that are exhibited in the great
Elemental Planes, like miniature fragments of the great Elemental
Intelligences. The most dominant in the age are said to be a
random combination of two elementals. Great Demons and
Supernatural Creatures and Beings of Magic contain the essence of
three Elementals; Divine Entities and Demi-Gods are said to hold
power over all the Elements.

The human race is made of Earth and Air, which could explain
their lack of endurance and fleshy build, much how arrogating the
soil makes the dirt soft. The humans are quick builders and
surprisingly fast to evolve, like how fresh top soil encourages
the growth of nature. The Elves are told to be the convergence of
Air and Water, two of the most serene and stable elements. They
are slow flowing, much like the two, and are said to be
interbreeding in their inner species, like bubbles in the pond.
Their powers directly stream from the waters of the world, and
much like how every animal must depend on water or air just for
life, the elves have a strong regard for all life, as long as
they consider it sentient. The Gnomes, an odd race indeed, are
like Fire and Water, two elements that, most notably, cancel each
other out. They are full of eccentricities and are whimsical to
the core. They are self-destructive in their great plights in
industrialization of their people. The stout dwarves are carved
of Earth and Water. The water fuels their forges, and the great
rock fuels their blood. This elemental bond links them both to
the elves and the humans, which strengthens the reasoning for the
well-being of the Alliance that is formally built between the
Elves, Humans, and Dwarves.

But Orcs, my people, have always been the offspring of Earth and
Fire. We have been grown from the grounds of the planet for eons,
and the fire of conquest has run through the veins of my people
since the very first snort of our tusked snouts. We rise from the
bowels of the deepest, darkest pits, and have always been the
first to leave to see the sun, and take what is ours to have,
rightfully and justly. Every Orc, no matter the race or species,
knows that war is not only the way of life; it’s the way to
freedom. Our people simply knew no other way to obtain it than to
earn it from others. It’s power, the epitome of power, in taking
what is yours without meaningful repercussions. Be we War-Hungry
or War-torn, or it’s so imbedded in our heritage that we no
longer know any better, we’re bred to fight for our lives every
single day in every single way. As such, we’re known to be savage
creatures, and any traces of civility are merely a passing of
clarity in our nature of brutality. However, it’s not always like
this. It never even used to be like this… or wasn’t it?

Throughout the realms, the Orcs have been the most common of the
‘sub-human’ races. We’ve had the reputation as being dull-witted,
muscle-bound brutes with a wicked disposition, given to us by the
most dominant of races, the humans, because of their base
interactions with out kind, normally at the end of a blade. We’ve
been regarded as stupid, greedy creatures with delicate egos that
make us somewhat vulnerable to all manners of deception and
trickery, yet that would only scar the weakest of wills. My
people have proved to be almost outrageously haughty and brazen
fighters, especially when in numbers under the control of a
strong leader. Our anger is infamous, and knows no bounds. When
truly outraged, a single Orc will leap into the fray of a dozen
opponents, be they fleshy humans of the greatest demons of the
void. We do not fear death, and are born predators and merciless
warriors who, as a matter of fact, genuinely enjoy combat.

On the other hand, my people are fiercely loyal, heroic, and
courageous as any of the noblest warriors to ever live. An
overwhelming majority of Orcs will never betray his people, his
friends, or his alliances. A racial flaw in our society is due to
the tendency of a “herd mentality,” that scars us emotionally,
that is to say that we follow the crowd. Thus, if a majority of
Orcs are scared and retreat, then the Orcs involved with them
will run away too. However, this can be tempered into a powerful
weapon, allowing my people the courage to face down Gods and
Demon Lords with the rest of his group if they show no signs of
fear. My people have lacked powerful leaders, and often times
look to those strong, charismatic and powerful warriors in their
enclave from whom they take their lead; respecting physical
strength, agility, and combat skills above all else. Orcs have a
right to fear magic and supernatural powers because it’s quite
difficult to understand them and what is represented by them. The
problem for Non-Orcs is that utilizing Orcs in an army or any
large group is that there are too many distractions and people to
look at for their cues in the fight. Large groups tend to be
unorganized, unfocused, and easily confused. A small group of
half a dozen to twenty with a strong leader can be devastating,
something truly feared across the battlefield.

“…and as the dusk of the war approached, when the sky was ablaze
with fire and the rivers had been run red, a new warrior strode
forth onto the battlefield. They bore the features of the rugged
Orcs, yet weren’t touched by the Orcish hideousness, but instead
the grace of the Elves. When the trumpets sounded, these warriors
flew into battle with rage and skill to match the gods. But their
page in the book of history would soon be crumpled, as fate had
allotted that their time would be short…”

--History of Strange Races

My life on Draenor is and has always been a lie. My name is Manus
Trebelium, and I am what was known on my homeworld, Palladium, as
a High Orc. In my world, in its very early stages, the two major
powers – the elves and dwarves – had built empires in the world
after the Age of Darkness had ended. The Dragons and Angels had
left the world when the defeat and chaining of the Old Ones had
been completed, and the clash of the two penultimate mortal races
had erupted into a 2,000 year long war that consumed tens of
millions on each side. The dwarves, armed with dark Magicks of
Bio-wizardry and established pacts with demons and devils of two
planes of Hell, ferociously battled against the haughty elves who
had instigated the conflict with their elitism and brash
attitudes towards all other mortal races. Yet, due battle against
overwhelming odds, the Elves enlisted, or some say enslaved, the
monster races of Orcs, Ogres, and Goblins to fight for them. Yet,
unless the elf is a very powerful mage, the monster races will
not respect them, because elves simply are not powerful or
strong. To that extant, we appeared. No one can really say where
the High Orcs came from, whether we were created for the purpose
of the elves, or merely out of pity from the gods to set the
people free to fight a war that was not theirs; it was on the
battlefield that our presence came to be felt. There are even
foolish accounts that the High Orcs are a hybrid race of the
elves and orcs that served them in the war! Whatever the reason,
we had arrived, and dutifully served the Elves are their military
leaders and soldiers in their army against the dwarves. We were
the natural leaders and fighters, and the enslaved monster races
listened to us, respected us, and coordinated with us, as we
respected them, not as slaved, but as equals. The ‘lesser races’
flocked to us, and followed our lead unquestionably, and the
Elves were suited rather well with our success. We were deployed
as their elite warriors, and faced the dwarves and their demons
on several fronts, above and below ground, on mounts and through
magic. It was a true travesty that we arrived too late in the
war, and the tide had already favored an Elfish victory. We
served several centuries under Elven slavery, and did not rise
against them due to the great battles we looked forward to.

My DanRas, Ignex Max of the Jagged Crown, was the last EnheilRas
of the 13 Clans. We had developed clans almost instinctually, as
there were thirteen ‘generals’ – even though they weren’t given
the status of true generals by the elves – who were the primary
leaders. Each had his own strengths and primary duty, and the
orcs that flocked to them tended to follow in the generals’
footsteps, adopting and pursuing their aptitudes. They mutated,
due to the strong genetic adaptability and quickened evolution of
our species, in specializing in what their clans did. During the
war, these thirteen factions operated co-dependently. The
coordination of abilities is, in part, just what made us so
deadly. Before our introduction into the world, the strategy most
applied by orcs is simply throwing themselves at their foes in
mass numbers. We used strategy to pit the Orcs against the enemy
to the best of their individual abilities. We made superb use of
siege weaponry, ranged suppression, cavalry tactics, and skilled
weaponry. Orcs are hard workers who do not flinch from heavy,
difficult or repugnant labor. We High Orcs know this, and know
best how to manipulate it into making them excellent craftsman,
devout farmers, and diggers.

When the war was over, the recuperating Elves quickly rejected
us, and our people, and sent us on our way. Yet the many
centuries had stifled any sense of humility my people would have
had, and we High Orcs were more than indignant about being forced
to serve other races. We developed racial pride, and it is now
inbred in us. When we were being used as soldiers, this was fine,
but when the war was over, my people wanted nothing more than to
continue warring. This was the last thing on the minds of
everyone else, who had finished an Age of conflict and so few
were left of what was in the beginning, so the Orcs were exiled
into the newly born wastelands of the major battlefields to fend
for ourselves. Had those foolhardy elves been weak enough, then
the EnheilRas would have simply ordered a slave revolt against
them and taken the Elven Empire right there and then. However,
their depleted army was still a force to be reckoned with, so we
left, and took a sizeable force of the ‘lesser orcs’ with us into
the wastelands. Life is harsh there, twice as bad as the area
called Kargath in the Eastern Kingdoms region known as the
Badlands, but we managed well. Under the guidance of the young
and unimpressionable EnheilRas Ignex Max, my people were led
bravely, and after only a few centuries, we had developed a small
kingdom that was flourishing rapidly. Yet, it was only a biding
of time, as our people did not want to sit peacefully minding our
crops. We desired conquest. The Elven nation had used us and
rejected us, and soon they and everyone else would regret that
they’d ever heard the word “Orc” before in their lives. After
building up our resources, we set to conquering the Old Kingdom.

“Gihæl Orka æ ChumRas Orka!”

--Orcish Warcry

Before the time of my people, the Orcs didn’t really have too
strict a code of beliefs. Natural followers, they spent so much
time enslaved that they had simply adopted the beliefs of their
masters. When we High Orcs arrived, a general philosophy was
adopted by the Orcs. Some of the general attitudes had already
been there, but it took our masterful intelligence and ingenuity
to awaken these inner instincts. Despite our passing in the
world, some of the attitudes are still held onto what remains of
my people in Palladium. These bi-laws were collected into the
first major document my people ever scripted, and are known as
The Orcish Doctrine:

Might makes Right – The Law of Chuma Tuncha.

The weak exist only to serve the Strong.

There is no good or evil; there is only the will of those strong
enough to rule.

Orcs are among the noblest of races, such as the Elves and the
great Titans.

No Orc shall ever bow his head before any other, save another
Orc.

There is no honor in cowardice and weakness.

The will of all Orcs shall be the will of every Orc.

The leaders of the clans shall speak the word of the clans, and
their word shall be law.

Peace and harmony are weakness; conquest is the only true
existence.

Much like the Draenei Orcs, our society was developed by Clans.
Though I cannot be certain as to why the Draenei Orcs developed
clans, ours was due to specialization in how an army must act.
Coincidently, both the High Orcs, led by the 13 Orcish Lords, and
the Horde, developed the same number of clans, that being
thirteen. It concerns me that the fate is so similar and I am
quipped over the number 13 and how it has had some manner of fate
when dealing with my people. The horde of Draenei was composed of
the Blackrock, Stormreaver, Twilight’s Hammer, Black Tooth Grin,
Bleeding Hallow, Dragonmaw, Burning Blade, Shadow Moon, Warsong,
Shattered Hand, Thunderlord, Laughing Skull, and Bonechewer
Clans, with the Frostwolf Clan long being exiled out of the horde
and no longer being a political body within the Horde. The
leadership of the clans was to the loyalty of a single one. At
first, it was to a spiritual clan, the Shadow Moon Clan, then it
became the Blackrock during the Horde’s war, and then back to the
Shadow Moon. Now it is the Frostwolf. However, my people always
were lead by a single clan; leadership was not fluid, it was
absolute. Our clans went as followed:

The High Fist Clan: The greatest strategists, and primary
military leaders.

The Dorn Riders Clan: Specialization in the master of the Dorn
mounts, and was, for the most part, made of cavalry units.

The Blazing Hammer Clan: Craftsman of the High Orcs. Their
weapons exceeding those of kobold build and easily rivaled
dwarven work.

The Clan of the Dark Circle: Mysterious Clan, lead by Dorin the
Darkweaver, composed of magic users. 70% were mages, and 30% were
warlocks; all were High Orcs (‘lesser’ Orcs could only serve as
assistants). It was the smallest clan, but one of the most
powerful.

The Clan of the Red Blade: A clan made up of priests, Paladins,
Knights, and Holy Crusaders of the God Lopnel, lead by High
Inquisitor Riga. The majority of Orcs in our clans claimed
allegiance to Lopnel, and this clan served as our spiritual
leaders.

The Dripping Fang Clan: An odd clan that was second smallest, and
served a wide variety of purposes, that were united by their
worship to the Spider Goddess Tark. Tark symbolized treachery,
but these Orcs were very loyal and centered on their disdain for
other races. They glorified themselves as the poison that would
destroy the world.

The Clan of the Jagged Crown: These Orcs were of the noblest and
oldest blood of the Clans history. Led by the previous EnheilRas,
Ignex Max of the High Fist, they were the traditional and
hierarchical leaders of the clans.

The Blue Hair Clan: A clan of fierce, yet madly inventive
warriors. They were known for many unexpected victories whenever
in tight situations. Their namesake came from a tradition of all
members dying their hair a deep azure blue.

The Clan of Tunnel Crawlers: The members of this clan lived
primarily underground, and they inherited many of the attributed
of the other subterranean races. In the war against the dwarves,
they were a prime asset, and were neigh unstoppable against the
bearded enemy.

The High Step Clan: This clan gains its namesake for living in
the higher, hillier regions of the High Orcs’ occupied territory.
This clan was responsible for civil duties and agriculture.

The Clan of the Flaming Skull: This clan was very small and
featured the most elite of Orcish warriors. All were maniacs, and
all were unstoppable in battle. Lead by the Soulpyre Gulen, these
Blade magi worshipped an ethereal plume deep in the cave of the
Flaming Pit.

The Clan of the Golden Sky: The members of this strange clan were
primarily Druids, with a few Beastmasters and Warlocks mixed in.
Despite their reverence for nature, these were known as one of
the most vicious clans in battle.

The Raging Bear Clan: This huge clan revered physical strength
more than any other clans. Their most open attitude towards clan
membership allowed for the most non-Orcs to gain entry into clan
status of the Orcish society.

All High Orcs follow a strange sort of honor, whereby strength
and all things Orcish are respected above all else. Although we
were divided into clans, our society was truly a communal one.
Clan membership is based on an individual’s strengths and
aptitudes, and membership was fluid, so one could switch clans if
necessary. This divided everyone up properly and put them to use
to the best of their abilities, making the Orcish nation powerful
and dynamic as a whole. Women served as equals to the men in clan
status. Though they seldom served in leadership positions (this
was political more than sexist), they could do just about
anything else. They could become soldiers, even the elite Orcish
Knights, and were at the front lines charging alongside the men
in most battles. Despite our racial pride, we held a certain
degree of tolerance for other strong races, such as trolls,
ogres, and giants, and monster races such as goblins.

As barbaric as my people may seem, what is usually overlooked is
that male and female orcs are surprisingly caring nurturing
parents and very protective of our young. Orc parents will fight
to the death to defend their mate and their children. Raiders who
slay or kidnap an Orc child will be hunted down by the parents,
and sometimes the family members and friends, or entire tribes or
clans, and brutally slain. My people have been known to spend
years, if necessary, to avenge the slaughter of their offspring.
For this reason, many slavers and plunderers will leave orc
children behind and untouched, even if they are reasonably
certain all the adults have been captured or killed. Most
surviving adults will stay with the orphaned children to protect
and raise them, even if their mate has been killed. Even orcs not
related to the abandoned child will usually take it in as if it
were their own. Each orc child is taken care of by a network of
their extended family and tribe, with each member donating some
small portion of their labor towards their care and education.
Those who excel with weapons will lead the instruction of young
warriors, trackers will take them on hunting excursions, and the
priest will teach them the lore of the tribe while looking them
over for apprentices. Young orc-women are kept at home, learning
the tasks of a woman from all the females in the tribe, with
their oldest direct female relative taking the lead in all
things. Most orcs can recite their parentage back three of four
generations beyond their oldest living relative, and will show
respect to those with well-known or regarded ancestors. It is a
well-known fact amongst slavers or raiders that, no matter what
else one does, one never harms the orc children in any way,
because to do so is to make an enemy of every orc who hears of
the deed.

The Orcish Knights were among the fiercest warriors to ever stalk
the Palladium world. The training to Knighthood was only
available to my people, the High Orcs, and denied to all others,
even our ‘lesser’ orc brothers. The raw fighting ability of the
High Orc was tremendous enough to begin with, but when tempered
with the proper training, it became something to truly be afraid
of. During the Elf-Dwarf War, my people developed a rigid system
of combat, which utilized a special style that exploited all of
our strengths, and compensated for any of our so-called
weaknesses. It revolved around the master of a single weapon,
called a Skell, a sort of buckler-lance hybrid weapon that has
yet to be invented on Draenor or Azeroth, and the master of
mounted combat atop a beast known as a Dorn, which is somewhat
related to the wolves or worgs of this planet. Though termed
‘Knights,’ by our people, they did not act as true Knights in the
conventional human sense. There was no special code of conduct to
which only the Orcish Knights adhered. Instead, the Orcish
Knights were the ultimate enforcers of the Orcish Philosophy. In
particular, our two primary doctrines were Might (Chuma) and
Conquest (Ras), both of which we pursued hungrily. All other Orcs
looked up to the Brotherhood of the Orcish Knights as the noblest
and most courageous members of our race. The Knights were used
extensively by the elves as their Special Forces fighters during
the end of the Elf-Dwarf war, and it was their strength and grace
that won my people so many battles.

When the dawn to arise the ChumRas Orka came, the mighty
EnheilRas Ignex Max of the High Fist had reached the twilight of
his life, and a conclave of the 13 Chieftains met, and named
myself, Manus Trebelium of the High Fist to be the new EnheilRas.
As leader of the High Fist Clan and Warmaster of the dozen others
before me, I elected my council to achieve the ChumRas Orka. For
lead tactician, I chose the most brilliant Orc I had ever known,
the Fire Warlock Trabian Riil of the Golden Sky. My best friend
and superior Teel Ikorum as the Honorary Father of the Knights to
lead the High Fist’s Orcish Knights into battle was selected, and
the Pointblade Belca Bristleback, the most daring ‘lesser orc’
that the realms had ever seen was given title to join the Clan of
the Flaming Skull. The Leader of the Clan of the Red Blade, the
High Inquisitor named Riga, had become a brash and arrogant
Crusader, a warrior priest of the Red God of Conquest Lopnel, and
had befriended me quite swiftly. Riga had gone into deep
meditation with the rest of his clan in this new era of Orcish
prosperity and divined that my rise to EnheilRas was a mandate
from Lopnel that I was chosen to be the one to bring ChumRas Orka
at hand. The entire world of Palladium was to be ours. We had
tens of thousands of High Orcs and armies numbering in the tens
of thousands all across the Barren Wastes of the Old Kingdom.
They were mobilized and ready, having trained for decades for
this very moment, and it was my duty to bring it to them.

“I am the warrior’s Fate.
I raise him above his brethren.
I amplify his deeds.
He becomes scornful, where once he had respect.
He becomes a giant, where once he was a man.
Yet I lack proper honor – raise me up in glory.
Through the chronicles of my deeds, pride shall be honored.
Through the passing of knowledge, my sword shall display its
glory.
Then you shall know that I am pleased.”

--The Annals of Pride

When we marched forward into the Old Kingdom, just centuries
after the end of the two millennia war, we were unstoppable. My
forces, the great army of the High Orcs, trampled all who would
resist the rule of the Orcs, the great calling of ChumRas Orka.
The conquest of the world of Palladium went very smoothly. I
personally lead the forces of the High Fist into the fray every
time, as I insisted, as EnheilRas, that I be the first into the
battle, and the last to leave. However, the first to charge was
the Pointblade, Belca Bristleback, a ‘lesser Orc’ that is the
mightiest orc I have ever seen in battle. He lead Dorn charges
into the front lines of the enemy in every battle, and never once
was he harmed. With Dorin the Darkweaver overlooking magical
support and the unmatched cavalry of the Dorn Riders, the main
lines of my people’s army conquered a large portion of the Old
Kingdom, and within only a year, it was completely under the
Orcish Flag. The ‘higher’ races, such as the elves and dwarves,
simply fled or hid from us, leaving those that depended on them
to our war. Their deserters stood little chance, as their
superiors were too busy rebuilding their fallen empires to even
consider trying to fight the massive army of the Orcs that they
had enslaved and thrown aside like toys.

The long-ears and the stubble-faced ones were in permanent
retreat, and the largest part of Palladium was soon ours. There
was simply no resistance, not serious resistance anyway. With
that that we had, that I had lead my people to gain from nothing
in just two hundred years, we hungered for more. The humanoid
races were conquered, but there was more than just the continent
of the Old Kingdom. There were the Giants of Baalgor. They were
monstrous humanoid creatures 12-20 feet tall, and from basic
reconnaissance and espionage reports that for the past half
millennia or more, they had be trying to do the same as my
people, but clearly lacked the organization and manpower to see
it happen as swiftly as I lead the Orcish Lords to attain. Much
like the elves before us, the Giants had enslaved many monster
races, including Orcs among the trolls, ogres, goblins and so on,
themselves and were prepared to give a stiff defense against my
Orcs to steal ‘their’ empire. Nevertheless, Riga issued forth the
call of Lopnel, and into the Wastelands of Baalgor the Orcish
Armies went, feeling quite miniscule against the Giants three to
five times our size and strength.

The war got quite nasty. Thousands were lost on both sides. The
Giants held a large and formidable force, but underestimate my
people due to our size and the fact that we lacked numerical
superiority due to the overwhelming number of enslaved soldiers
the Giant Empire had. My Tactician, Trabian Riil, and the best
strategists of the High Fist were able to keep the invasion of
Baalgor at a stalemate despite such disadvantages. Even more,
with the Darkweaver’s enchantments and masterful use of magic, we
were able to edge a slight favor against the Giants’ armies and
shatter through their Bulwarks. The Giant front lines buckled and
they ordered a full retreat to their capital city: Balraga. All
13 Clans, every single High Orc, feeling this moment of truth
that the Mighty Giants and Titans would fall before us in such a
small stature, came to fight and siege the great monument that
would topple the Giant Empire, and give us the world of Palladium
for ChumRas Orka. Trabian assured me this: With the combined
power of the 13 Clans, my people would certainly win the day, as
the Giants were beaten back in their hasty fallback.

Our lines marched to Balraga, and there the Giants used their
greatest fortification, marching out in massive bolts of enslaved
attacks. Using the Soulpyre’s Flaming Skull Clan and the Blue
Hairs to slay anything coming out of the great Fortress, the
Darkweaver’s Dark Circle Clan and the Golden Sky’s Warlocks
enraged the elements and send massive arcane attacks flail
against them, and enchanting the mighty ballistae of the Raging
Bear to crumple the walls of the Fortress. From the torn castle
walls came thousands of the Giants from there city, every citizen
being inscripted into the fight. I called for every clan that the
time to storm the city of Balraga, and we all pushed forward… all
except for the Raging Bear, which fled when the offensive of the
Giants issued from their castle. I saw the Troll, Xersus, calling
for a full retreat from the fray, and carrying a chieftain’s
banner. The cowardly troll had somehow gained clan leadership.
Without the effort and numbers of the largest clan of fighters,
the Giants found themselves lustful and frenzied with chance.
Chaos had erupted from the sight of the Raging Bears fleeing,
with the horrified gaze of absolute terror filling in the eyes of
their non-orc leader. I had no choice but to sound the retreat,
with Riga and Trabian on my side issuing the call for the other
leaders. But the other Clans had already fought too deeply inside
Balraga that they could not hear the trumpets of defeat. The
giants had trapped my people inside their city, and there was no
hope for them.

A large contingent force had left to track down the Raging Bear.
For all intensive purposes, every High Orc was killed that day,
with Xersus being the only true casualty. We found him as we were
retreating, with hundreds of Giants on our tail, and Teel Ikorum,
the Father of the Knights, personally skewered the Troll, and
flayed his flesh off, skinning him, and Trabian set it flame
after turning it into a flag. His innards were left in a piling
heap of dung for his crime. However, there were too many generals
left un-accounted for. We didn’t really know who was left. In
fact, I could see no survivors from any of the 12 other clans,
just my High Fist Clan. We re-deployed to our Command Station,
only 300 of the 10,000 High Orcs with me, and found our reserve
force of 1000 or so. We knew that the retaliatory force the
Baalgor Giants had sent would be here to raze our Stronghold
within a day, so I commanded that we seek out a new area to
re-plan the invasion. There was no sign of Dorin the Darkweaver,
or the Druids or Warlocks of the Golden Sky to send us any
messages. Dorin was right near us when I sounded the call, so I
was unaware that he had separated.

Riga announced that, although our people had been nearly
genocidally massacred within the near 4-month long siege of
Balraga, now was not the end, and ChumRas Orka was still at hand.
Lopnel had not forsaken his chosen, the Orcs, to achieve the Red
God’s Conquest. We all believed Riga. The High Inquisitor looked
to me to lead our fledging survivors to safety back to the Old
Kingdom, where we could recuperate and re-plan the invasion
against the Giants. I remember it being the deepest night, and
the stars of the Palladium Sky were absent in our defeat that
day. It had to be night, because the brightest of lights flashed
in front us of and a creature, a sphinx, appeared, decorated
ostentatiously, with braided tassels and covered in strange
tribal designs. It eyed the rest of my army and spoke to us words
I can never forget:

“The cord of your fate has been cut. Time has deemed an end to
the noble race of High Orcs and the ChumRas Orka. Your battle has
been lost, your war come to an end. Beyond these woods lies your
doom.”

The Sphinx motioned with its jeweled paw to the damp forest
behind him, and before my eyes it changed! It became grim and
uninviting, as it foretelling the death that would wait within.
The creature motioned to the path that I was to lead my people
back to the Old Kingdom and sat down to the entrance. He waved
once more, and a large glowing door, a portal to another realm,
appeared. He spoke once more:

“Fate has decided your end, but Fate is a gambler. And where
there are gamblers, there are cheaters. I am Raat, the Riddle
Weaver, and I have come to set you free. Two fates lie before you
--- one that has been cast for you, and one that shall be
determined by yourselves. Choose that which you wish.”

Phrased this way, it wasn’t hard to imagine which path I chose
for the Fate of my people. With Teel, Riga, and Trabian behind
me, we marched fearlessly into the portal.

“And the Red God did bellow his frustration, and tears tan down
from his eyes in torrents. “Are there no more to take up the
challenge? I am wounded and tired, surely you can defeat me.
Come. Come show me your rage. Smite me down for I am your enemy.
Come!” But none came, for there were none left to fight. And when
one of his lieutenants came to console the Red God, the god
cleaved him in two and wept. The tears were not for the senseless
murder of his lieutenant, nor for the multitude that laid dead
and dying before him, but because the battle was ended, and now
was a time for peace.”

--The Tristine Chronicles

It only seemed like a moment, but over 7,000 years had passed in
Palladium. The Age of Elves had come and gone. The wastelands of
the Old Kingdom still lay before us. The surroundings had not
changed, but had become drastically weathered. The forest had
disappeared, and a burnt waste had taken its place, with the rest
of the landscape appearing rocky and barren. We did not know
exactly what had taken place, whether we were still in Palladium
or not, but we could not sit around and think about what had
happened. We wasted no time, and I commanded that we quickly
establish a command post and begin preparing to secure the area.
We had been given another chance to gain ChumRas Orka, to conquer
the world of Palladium and subdue all under the rule of Orcs. We
would take it and be much more careful. Riga mentioned that being
spared from our previous fate can only be a sign that ChumRas
Orka is meant to be.

I had to take the present situation in stride. Although I had
just witnessed my entire army fall in battle, the majority of my
people slaughtered before my eyes, and the fact that I had been
magically whisked away to an unknown place and time without any
rhyme or reason, it was really only a setback. The fact that
nearly ten thousand high orcs, and five times that many ‘lesser’
orcs and other loyal peoples have been slaughtered didn’t really
matter to me. As long as blood pumped into my veins and a single
Orc will follow, I would keep fighting. My one objective was
ChumRas Orka. Until I had accomplished this, I would stop at
nothing, and let absolutely nothing get in my way or hold me
back. It was the task of the EnheilRas, the life goal of my
title, and the right of my people to attain.

I was the first to recognize that I and my troops were in the
same place where we had left by the signs of the sky and the
smell of it, but I knew that things had changed drastically, so
didn’t know exactly what to make of it. I knew protocol suggested
that we establish a firm base of operation, prospect for more
troops, and then establish a solid plan for conquest. With the
right deck of cards and a few good hands, then things should go
very smoothly. We had 322 High Orc survivors, with 200 of those
being trained Orcish Knights. 1,232 ‘lesser’ Orcs were still with
us, and 405 trolls, ogres, and goblins were in reserve from the
portal. So altogether, I had nearly 2,000 men under my initial
command. We all still had our equipment, but needed some time to
rest and recuperate from our wounds. Trabian Riil, the DanRas
Ignex Max, Teel Ikorum, Riga and his Juggernauts, my PunRas
Delgon Trebelium, and Belca Bristleback were still with me, as
well as my concubine Arana. I needed to know if any survivors
still lived from Balraga, so I sent scouts to all the old Orcish
camps: the Shrine of Lopnel, the Dark Circle, the Golden Grove,
the Hall of Blazing Hammers, The Blue Cave, the Cave of the
Flaming Pit, the Dorn Forest, and our Capital, Orca itself.

A week had passed, and the scouts reported that there were no
bodies, remains, or documents left over at any of our camps. The
Orcish Hieroglyphs in the Shrine had aged millennia, and from the
archeology, we were able to gauge the time dilation that the
Sphinx had arranged. All artifacts, in fact, all traces that my
people had ever existed had been wiped out by the giants, and the
existence of our use swept under the proverbial rug by the elves.
However, the Scouts to the Dorn Forest had rustled up 200 of the
animals for arming and training, and the one sent to Orca came
back with a Giant from the south, one that asked to meet with me.
He had the name of Bilrik, and was a Jotan Giant of Gurthasi Tor.
The last thing my people wanted to see was a Giant with their
hearts still heavy with the sorrow of Balraga, but Bilrik was
cunning, and offered allegiance to the High Fist Clan. He offered
his siege engines for our use if we were to agree, and that got
my advisors in quite the pinch. His deal was that I could use his
engines and even gain some troops from his tribe, in turn for
some support for him later on. Our choice was clear, and we
accepted the deal with the Jotan Bilrik.

The Giant informed us of the nearest Kingdom called Aieer to the
Southeast, inhabited by creatures called Humans, which were a
fleshier version of elves with smaller ears and a lot more hair.
They had appeared some 2,000 years ago, and quickly became the
dominant life-form in Palladium, signaling a phasing out of the
Elf and Dwarf population, and driving the Giants, Titans, and
Trolls to a near extinction. The only thing it did not phase in
terms of population were the ‘lesser’ Orcs, which had now become
a standardized slave labor force for most of the world. Without
their true leaders, The High Orcs, to guide them, the Palladium
Orcs fell into depressing disarray, and meandered through their
existence in a pathetic life of slavery, never knowing of their
true heritage of ChumRas Orka.

Aieer was a small Kingdom, with only a single town paying homage
to it. This town, called Eldenhill, was our first target, as it
would severe communication from the land of the South-Winds to
Aieer, ensuring their isolation. Belca and Riga took charge of
this task personally. With Riga’s Juggernauts, an elite faction
of warriors and priests under Lopnel, operating with the
Pointblade, Eldenhill was ripped from the parchment of Palladium
in a single night. The women and children were marched out into
the wastelands and given over to Bilrik’s Kingdom. The buildings
of the town were unscathed, and were a fine resource in managing
our first base camp. From Eldenhill, we managed to move the
Jotan’s siege engines into a few hours from the Castle Walls of
Aieer. We had residential houses for beds, and forges and anvils
to re-temper our skells and shields. With further maps, Bilrik
had informed us that if we were to take Aieer fairly quick, we
could use the Kingdom as a new staging point to direct attacks
and eventually, an invasion, into the Land of South-Winds, an
area that has many magical artifacts as it is ruled by a
mageocracy. With the power of the South-Winds, we could easily
stage a second takeover of the Baalgor Wastelands.

From Eldenhill, the quickness of the High Fist’s raiding parties
was like chain lightning against the countryside of Aieer. Small
towns were driven out over-night, and the citizens of Aieer, and
their bumpkin army, were recalled to Aieer. The onslaughts of my
people were already too much for these human beings. Our first
encounters taught them that, although they thought themselves
rulers of Palladium, they were still weak, and easily rended by
superior skill in combat and battle. The human ruler, King
Aeolius, a regent Lord of Aieer, knew blatantly of our presence,
and we left him no time to gather any sort of forces. With
Bilrik’s siege weaponry in tow, Aieer would quickly fall. The
human was growing desperate, the Bilrik’s infiltration team, a
quartet of changeling rogues called the Black Four, had captured
an Elf Emissary called Morgan from the Lands of the South-Winds.
It seemed that the Warlocks of the Southern Consortium from the
Lands of the South-Winds were using our invasion as a political
entrapment to lure Aieer under a trade agreement that would take
its sovereignty and force its subservience, and under the
circumstances, Aeolius was considering just that. Bilrik kept the
Emissary as a Prisoner of War, as he figured that Aieer would be
pivotal in the incursion of the nation, and such an agreement
would mean little when both lands were under our control.

Under the great flag of the High Fist, I marched with my army of
2500, and another 2000 from Bilrik’s Kingdom, as well as dozens
of Siege Engines and headed to Aieer. For its age and time, it
was quite the sturdy stronghold. Under Orcish supervision, it
would be certainly a fortress of fear. Teel and Riga approached
the great drawbridge of Aieer, and Aeolius’ best troops marched
out for parlay. They drew their weapons, and the Skells of the
High Inquisitor and the Father of Orcish Knighthood flawlessly
slain them in their stance. Their corpses were tossed on
catapults, and thrown above the masts of the city as a warning of
such foolhardy tricks. I was somewhat pleased with the encounter
that was to follow, and just before Dusk hit, the great siege
took place, and true to his word, the Jotan’s engines launched an
assault upon the defenses of Aieer as the walls began to break
way. The High Fist’s best held their shields to fend off the
ranged attacks of Aieer’s bowmen. Aieer’s own King aided his
doomed soldiers with his Earth Elemental Magicks, but even his
own potent abilities with stone could not repair the walls fast
enough as the Giant’s siege weaponry tore them down. It only
bought them time, and when Aeolius’ supply of the arcane ran out,
so did the hope of Aieer. To give the human his due, the siege
lasted two entire days, fully dependant on that Warlock to repair
the walls with his Elementalism, and when the walls fell down,
Belca Bristleback was the first to leap through, launching into
the affray. The humans poured out of their houses and their
barracks, with all manners of blades and farming tools to attempt
to beat the Orcish Knights of the High Fist from the pierced
walls of their Kingdom and were subsequently cut down in reapings
of harvest by the Juggernauts of Lopnel upon their Dorn mounts as
they drove towards the Keep to take the Inner Sanctum of Aieer.
Victory was at hand, it only needed time for them to surrender.
However, the final card in the Deck of Fate had yet to be dealt,
and it was quite the joker.

It seems that Aieer had been built since my time, during the
Elf-Dwarf War, which is why we were coincidently drawn to it at
first. We knew the lay-out, as it had been built for a mad Elf
Warlock, whose sanity had been lost in the years of living alone.
This nameless elf was so dedicated to the effort of the Elves,
spending decades researching to improve his abilities of
summoning greater elementals to do the deeds of the war to help
the fight against the Dwarves. The thing is, that this Elf
actually managed to summon an entire Earth Elemental Intelligence
into the realm – not just the minor fragments that we see
rumbling across the Badlands, or the Princess of Maraudon; more
or less like the Gods that Theradras would worship as her
creator. Unfortunately, the Elemental Intelligences are nowhere
as docile and cooperative as the Shaman fresh out of the Valley
of Trials would say they are. They are horrible, raging beasts,
and as this had lost its ability to return to its home dimension,
the Elemental Plane of Earth, and had been trapped for millennia
after its initial rampage called for entire circles of warlocks
to subdue it. It had been locked deep in the catacombs under the
Castle since that day, and when the war ended, Aieer had been
abandoned and forgotten until Aeolius discovered it and rebuilt a
Kingdom upon it. The Sovereign King of Aieer had known about the
Prisoner all along, and had been in long communication with the
monster and cooperated with it to gain prosperity. However, the
Intelligence’s goal had always been one thing: release. The King
was desperate when we came knocking on the door, bashing rather,
and fled into the Catacombs.

As the Kingdom of Aieer lay burning to rubble, its citizens
rounded up and taken away, we stepped back to watch it burn,
unaware that its last citizen, King Aeolius, was performing the
ritual of release. Dawn was just rising as the earthquake
occurred, and all went silent as the energy spirit of the
Intelligence enveloped the entire Kingdom, and as if from an act
of God, the entire castle rose to 100 feet in the air, its entire
self breaking and molding into an obscure humanoid form. The
Elemental actually ripped the Castle Aieer to pieces and used it
to form its body. We can only assume that Aeolius was crushed in
the process, as I never witnessed him in the battle, or its
aftermath. The Great Elemental roared, and for the first time, we
were somewhat awe-struck at the 300 ton menace before us. It was
once more a raging, illogical monstrosity that would destroy all
in an effort to return home, and it wanted to start with my
people.

Bilrik had fled from the sight of it, but I would not lead my
Clan to a second retreat. I stood against this God, as did my
brothers in War. I raised the banner of the High Fist and echoed
the War cry of my DanRas. The siege catapults turned towards the
new trajectory and the Crusaders of Lopnel rallied the blessings
of the Red God. On that morning, 3000 Orcs fought the God of the
Planet. Rivers of Molten Lava spewed beneath our feet, sinking
hundreds into a fiery death. Volcanoes rose from the mud of war
and exploded around it, dousing our ranks in flaming boulders and
poisonous ash. The very rain was ignited and burnt us with each
drop through our plated armor, and yet, we charged forth.
Soldiers were crisped to cinders in droves, and Riga himself
scaled the very creature after his Dorn had been killed in the
charge. The Earth shook violently, and the wasteland was made as
if quicksand and throngs were swallowed by the ground. Ballistae
and siege cannons fired off non-stop, breaking entire pieces off
the great Elemental. Trabian himself had managed to summon a
Major Fire Elemental to aid in combat, melting the many pieces of
the Castle to burn its body. Brick by brick, piece by piece, the
Orcs of the High Fist put forth their most valiant ability, and
as the last rock crumbled, the Earth Elemental lay broken, in a
weakened spiritual form, having consumed more than two and a half
thousand of the Aieer survivors.

In the aftermath, we had saved the entire planet from its
destruction with our sacrifice. Yet, it would rebuild itself
within six hours if the Intelligence were not completely
destroyed. The Pointblade chose to be the one to do it, and under
Trabian’s instruction, wielded a silver rune weapon and drove it
deeply into the Intelligence’s ethereal form. The entire world
moaned the energy form crushed in on itself, releasing an
explosion of energy that enveloped everything in a 1000 foot
radius, and a second concussion wave that pieced a second 1000
feet beyond that. All I remember was the light, shielding my eyes
with my beloved friends and allies, and then the great fire that
surrounded us, and everything in my life melted away.