The Saga of Krogger Sca'aga

Second Tablet - "The Circle Closes"

I did not sleep well. Dreams came to me. Images of familial darkness and kindred shadows. I was unsure whether these dreams were soothing or haunting.

My companions met up in the common room of the Prancing Pony for breakfast. I looked about for my opponent from yesterday, but he was not here. A good morning brawl was just what I needed. Alas, we spoke with first a gnome merchant that spoke much, but told us little of the doing of the city. He did buy us breakfast, for this I was grateful. We also speak to a elf from a city to the south. Though he speaks of orc goings on, he gave us no concrete information.

The party is in disarray as to a course of action. Without a direct foe to chase down and fight, I have little to offer. The sneaky members of the party decide that we should go to Theodore's warehouse. I don't oppose the plan. I have no good ideas as to getting into a fight. As we are walking we spot a half-orc dressed in very poor clothing writing! A half-orc writing? We stop and watch for a moment and see that he is counting soldiers on the wall and making marks on a parchment. We quickly split into two parties such as to surround the orc that is lurking in a small alley. I lead the second party to head-him-off as Trax and Stib follow him directly. Stib casts a spell - bloody magic types - and the half-orc falls to the ground. We grab him, knock him on the head to ensure he won't come through, and only then plan as to what we're going to do with him. Luckily there is a nearby inn, of the degenerate type, where we carry our captive in - as if drunk - and procure a windowless room near the back. The orc has little with him: charcoal for writing, the parchment with simple lines representing troops on the walls, a dagger, burlap sac tunic, and a few silver and copper pieces.

When he wakes, I begin the interrogation. This brings back memories. I was tied to a chair - just like this kin of mine is now - many times in my youth. My brothers would find as many painful ways of extracting some secret from me without leaving anything more than small cuts or bruises. Looking back with fondness towards the torture I use to endure - how strange?

This orc, who's name was Blood toe, was not immediately cooperative. I am not a patient half-orc. Though Blood toe was not telling us what we wanted to know, he was an honor to his breed, and I took it easy on him. The dagger was placed surgically between the bones of his hand, delivering pain, but little long term damage. A further twist ensured the answers kept coming. We learned that the orcs were lead by Torak Fire-eye. Blood Toe and one other half-orc were scouting the city. Blood Toe asked my council in private. I convinced the rest of the party to leave the room, which they did with some complaint. How little they trust me. Honor is not strong in our band. It is a black mark against us.

Blood Toe had nothing much of interest for me however. He offered me a position in the orc army as leader of 20 orcs. This is below my position in life. For a moment it did interest me to go to a place where at least I could fight and kill. I could be part of the group that attacks the city, kill elves and humans. Not so bad. Better than wondering this city in the rain all day. But I turned Blood Toe's offer down. He then offers me 50 gp to take him to the East Gate. I told him I was going to let him go for free, as long as he recognizes that he and Torak's owe me a favor. I told him to break free of his bindings (as I knew he could have done all along) once we are gone and leave the city.

The party retreated to observe Blood Toe leave the inn. He headed straight for a city gate. I am surprised to see him have an intimate conversation with one of the guards. Why would this spy know one of the guards, and why can they converse so openly. Clearly there is subterfuge going on. The party supposes that the arriving orc force and the human army to the north, are not coincidental. There is plenty of circumstantial evidence point towards a highly organized and sizable plot with the goal of taking the city.

We continue to Theodore's warehouse. The party wants to enter the establishment. Thief's work. I do what I can. None of the party thinks to secure the perimeter, or set up observers to look for inbound passers by. I take up a lone position with a good vantage point looking down the two relevant cross streets. Luckily it is still raining heavily and there are few people about. I have to intercept one unwary group with a deflecting question as the thieves try to enter the building. Stib is not spotted and enters the building. My hand is on my sword under my cloak. I expect to hear a scream from him any moment as he is set upon by those inside the warehouse. But he does well. He is not spotted and later appears on the roof with mitheral rods! I have never seen so much mitheral in all my life. More than my father had in his treasury. And Stib tells us there is much much more. He has only stolen all he could carry. This is the kind of wealth that I could use to retake my throne.

We sneak away in the rain. I try desperately to find someplace to hide the mitheral. My goal is to find an abandoned or vacant shop, or even a lonely patch of ground to hide or burry the rods. Eventually I am convinced to put the rods in a bank. This seems to me like a very bad idea. I don't trust banks, having never used one; and I am certain the deposit of 5 mitheral rods will get out and Theodore will hear of it. I'm sure we'll be arrested when we try to withdraw the rods, and in any case they will have been returned to him. The bank accepts our deposit. I would have been happier to have buried them in a park. Treasure belongs in the ground, where it has always been kept. Preferably in a mountain.

I argue that we should not go back to the same inn as we were spotted near the warehouse by a woman known to us and Theodore. The alarm would surely be out shortly and we would be hunted. Best to go to a different inn. When we return we find a note telling us we're being watched and not to 'interfere'.

That night I would have preferred to go out orc hunting again, but we decide to sleep the night. I am very frustrated. No battle today. No weapon practice on a real foe.

The next day we leave the inn to investigate some of the activities of mage's day. Quickly an elf runs into the city and announces that there is a great orc army - 100,000 strong - just hours from attacking the city. We make our way with the crowd to the gates of the castle/keep. The masses are told that all folk will have to defend the city and mount the walls. Yes! That's more like it. A fight, no not just a fight but a battle! I am so thankful! My step has a new bounce. 'Stupid' yesterday is gone, and tomorrow I will bathe in blood from those that have fallen to my sword!

What is this?! Cowards! My party isn't as enthusiastic as I am for this coming melee? I do suppose some of them are not good at fighting and might die. I suppose for them this is a concern. Stib doesn't even have a weapon.

Bingle is arguing that we go to a weapon shop. Why?! Do they give out free weapons when the city is being attacked? This would be nice but even I can't see shopkeepers being this naive. But I could be wrong. Though my sword is strong, I could use one that holds an edge better, or cleaves through flesh faster, so I'm not against the plan, even though I think no one is likely to give us free high quality weapons.

I am more concerned with getting our mitheral out of the bank. It turns out to be closed. Not surprising I guess. I feel deep inside that we will never see those rods again.

Passers by tell us that the gates will be closed shortly and thereafter no one will be able to leave the city. We discuss our course of action but ultimately decide on staying in the city. It looks like the party has two groups, one that wants to fight on the walls, and another that want to stay in the city. What will those that do not fight do? Loot? Steal? Hide? Bingle mentioned something about going into the sewers of the city and infiltrating the keep. The only way this would be successful is if the battle draws on for a long time and ultimately ends in something of a draw. Otherwise, once we exited the keep with loot, we would either be executed by the victorious city loyalists, or killed by the orcs that would be themselves looting and pillaging. But why burden oneself with such foolish times at a time of such joy!

Let the orcs come! I feel the blood lust grow in me! The movements of the world are starting to slow down. My ever sharpening senses notice all movements, leaves blowing in the wind, birds flying, the way strangers are carrying their hands. I see it all in slow motion. My body is getting ready. When the time comes, I will spring with the speed of the snow tiger. My claws will pierce three foe at one time. I will strike before, behind and above me; all in the blink of an eye. Fear will grip those that are touched by my invisible field of power. Like statues will they be that dare stare into my eyes. Let the battle come - I am hungry!