The Brotherhood of Orcbloods - RP thread

[stevebarracuda]

Just north of the town of Beregost, a faction of Gray Orcs and half-breeds from the Brotherhood of Orcbloods stand high on the ledge overlooking the valley, idle yet open-nostril'd towards the surrounding lands, observing the many who travel the Tradeway either north or south, as well as east toward the shore of the Sea of Swords. In their way, they keep a watchful eye on the goblin horde which also inhabits this stretch of the Tradeway, culling their numbers down when required, for the Orcbloods keep a tight grip on the land they have claimed as their own.

The Orcbloods gather their orc-blooded kin from far and near, for prejudice of their kind exists in untold amounts amongst the weaker races. The Orcbloods stand together in oath-bound strength, coupled with hard-earned wisdom...and with the power of their gods behind them.

Those that traverse this region on a regular basis become aware, over time, that a tenuous balance between the Orcbloods and the greater residents of the Sword Coast exists...a story currently being spoken, sung and scribed....in this year of Faerûn, 1348.


///This is an attempt to grow the faction. Orcblood encounters that want to be further RP'd can be done via this thread. Try not to metagame.

[stevebarracuda]

Rumor grows amongst the Grays who inhabit the neighboring hills and valleys of the Baldur's Gate region, that a tension rises between some Grays, between one Gray that gives all to his kin and Brotherhood, and another that sides with elves, dwarfs and humans over it's own kind.

Tis a tension not about evil or good, but over allegiance. A threat on the Hand's life has been made by the other...the outcome is yet unwritten....

//edited for clarity

[Lampir]

A full blooded female gray orc has been seen entering Balder's Gate relatively unaccosted to attend the Duchal Gala in effort to rebuild the palace district. Said orc apparently was there earlier during the fires themselves, helping rescue nobles trapped by the blaze. Though there was an attempted assassination during the gala (in which she was not at all involved), the orcess still left unharmed and smiling happily.

If she has weighter thoughts on her mind, they don't seem apparent. Instead, the druidess Kaltyra Greyfang simply continues her projects of recruiting druids to help regrow the war-torn forests and creating a safe way for orcs to live in the lands around Balder's Gate without being accosted. Something she has been known to be working on for well over a year and is clearly getting some headway with her permission to enter Balder's Gate unmasked and unhidden.

[tooley1chris]

Ugluk shares a grim tale at the table in the orcblood tribal den.
He spins the story in his native guteral orc speech.
"Ugluk was returning from delivering the head of the weak orc tribe chief to the corrupt fist leaders of the Palace district when he spotted three figures in the road dressed questionable in hoods and cloak with weapons drawn. Ugluk sees them talkin to two uder travelers in a threatening way. All pointin an shoutin. Me gets closer ta see what's what and one a dem demands da coin I get from fist captain ta pass safely by. Ugluk be a laughin at dis and looks fer a guard but ders none ta be had. Ugluk pulls his own sword and tells dem thugs ta get gone or der be trouble dey don't be a wantin.
Ya know dem ruffians come at me full fury but dey fall quick nuff under Ugluks sword arm. Den a guard shows up all nervous and shoutin about my sword and da dead would be bandits.
Well da two travelers quickly relay how Ugluk saves dem from da baddies and da guard asks Ugluk ta take his mask off so as ta see who da hero is. I says Ugluk no hero, Ugluk just leavin. He insists dat I takes me mask off anyways. All da time da travelers are sayin how I saves dem. I is innocent. Well, dat guard pulls his own sword and demands Ugluk comply wit his orders. Well, Ugluk done nuttin wrong so I finally takes da mask off and da guard gets all scared an such. "Yer no half orc!" says he, sword all shakin.
"No" says me. And before I can says anuder word he is all shoutin fer da guards.
Well I knows better den take that kinda trouble so Ugluk runs down the street and duckin in an alley. But dem guards come a runnin and dey finding me in short time. Ugluk shouts his case but dey all run in wit swords a swingin.
Ugluk be a wakin up in da farm outside da gate all beat up but lucky ta be alive, me thinks. And robbed. Dem guards had der way wit me purse as well! *spits*
Der is fear in da city, dat is fer true. But fear is overcome by der numbers.
We livin in a dangerous place when we can do der dirty work and get beaten, robbed, and left ta rot as reward. What say you Krasc?"

[stevebarracuda]

Krasc sits in the Orcblood's den, listening intently to the words of Ugluck. He sits amongst Grays from the Elder's Circle, wise counselors within the Orcblood tribe.

He shakes his head at the news, then responds in sharp Orc tongue:

"Young brother, your life has no value to those that follow the path of the mercenary. It is a lesson learned."

Krasc thinks a bit longer, looking deep into the troubled face of Ugluck.

"Brother, the less affairs you have with the weaker races, the better. When the time comes, we will gather our kin along the Coast and relocate to advantageous lands. But for now, we must gain respect from these humans...a show of strength might be required..."

Krasc begins to speak with the counselors of the Elder Circle, consulting both their wisdom and sending prayers to the Orc gods, seeking their direction.

///moving conversation to private Orcblood forums.

[stevebarracuda]

The Coastal winds turn, and a stream of knowledge carried upon them tickles the nostrils of Grays in the tribe of Orcbloods.

These winds bring knowledge of a willing, new brother, born half-breed but nonetheless strong beyond most.

And, of a new, smaller tribe of Grays that have wandered into the region of the Gate. Blood beats stronger through the veins of the Orcbloods at this knowing—how and when these two tribes will meet, is not yet told in any tale.

[stevebarracuda]

As snow fell ankle deep near the southern gates of Nashkel, three adventures idly conversed when beset upon by a large hooded figure. Puffs of warm air issued from behind the mostly covered face, but the two burning eyes did pierce forward.

A query was given to the large figure by the three: shall you hunt the giants beyond these gates with us?

The hooded figure answered with a snorted reply in the common tongue: "I do not aid your kind." And then the figure moved off into the lands of the giants...

Rumor flies on the cold wind that the Orcblood tribe slowly converges upon the Sword Coast once more.

[stevebarracuda]

North of the town of Beregost, a hulking figure stands perched over the valley, over the stream and overlooking the Tradeway as it winds its way southward.

A wind blows strong from the east, and upon this wind, the scent of Orc is subtly communicated...but only to those that have the innate knowledge for such things. The smell arrives quick and brings the lone hulking figure around from his perch to face the East.

In a low, phlegm coated growl, the figure speaks aloud: "It is true then...the black bloods of Gray Orc marches closer..."

This lone figure, this one, known to few as the Hand of the Orclboods, reacts in a controlled calmness. Any new Orc scent is always cause for alarm, cause for a tighter grip upon his staff...

But the smell is faint, yet, close enough to be aware...very aware.

The hulking figure looks down to the valley floor, towards the cave that is home to the nomadic Brotherhood, providing amble security to the tribe when it arrives again, and again, on the Sword Coast.

Again his speaks: "These Orc will soon smell Orcbloods...sooner when wind change. The Brotherhood has survived well against the weaker races...but this tribe has growing strength in smell...they WILL challenge."

With untold speed not apparent in his hulking figure, the Hand moves with haste down the ravine and towards the Orcblood lair...it is clear the Hand will converse with his counselors and brothers...

Is it time for the weaker races to see the might that Gruumsh has bestowed upon his children?!?

[stevebarracuda]

OOC: Come join the Orcbloods. It's a challenge, a rewarding challenge! Be tougher than most, have fun, and make the weaker races humble themselves in your presence.

If you're curious how to do this, come talk to me. You don't have to be goodly orc elf lover. There are alternatives, and I can help you with perspective on that.

Don't let it come to this...:

PS- I actually think elves are great race (elven mage/fighter/rogue was my favorite D&D PC to play)...why I don't play one here, is still a mystery to me...well, maybe not.

[stevebarracuda]

On this day, in the year 1348, the Brotherhood of Orcbloods began to lay claim to the lands north of the town called Beregost. Fueled by an scent of Orc blood moving closer into the lands surrounding the Sharpteeth Woods—and power in pheromones that can't be denied those true to their race—some Orcbloods demand acknowledgement of their superiority, from those that travel through their current home...

...and those that do not respect the Brotherhood, and beg passage, they are beaten in battle (OOC//a choice most players/toons make themselves, mind you....) ...their bloodied, half-lifeless bodies sent down the river as warning to others...

This day, a young sun elf, brave and a shining example to his race, challenged the Orcbloods to their mandate. And, the young sun elf fell, hard. His half-lifeless body dumped into the river...so that he would remember the lesson learned.

And, this day, a halfling of small stature but very skilled in her blades, did offer a challenge of 10 bags of coin from the Orcblood, or he would die...foolish halfling...they paid the price, and were cut down like so many others...their purse taken, the halflings body was sent down stream as well...maybe learning that to challenge the Orcbloods, is to challenge death.

Lastly, a challenge between Gray Orc and Human ended with a surprise...a stone with 3 marks is left to the Orcbloods.

///if any of the participating players are bold enough to have their Toon's names listed, I can place them in this post appropriately (and, the names would be only for OOC reference).

[Lampir]

On hearing of the regular attacks on the main Trade Way, Kaltyra makes it known to those friendly to her she is willing and able to track down the source of these scent messages. A skilled tracker, and well known for her keen nose, she nonetheless seems grim but resolved in helping remove the threat.

"These are not of my tribe. They insist on trying to claim human lands for what? Not hunger as the Blackorc tribe, but sheer greed and pride."

[stevebarracuda]

///OOC Information:

For anyone involved with current or future Orcbloods Roleplay:

I do not recognize, nor will interact with, Lampir and their toon Kaltyra Greyfang. I have attempted twice by PM and once with Tells to request that Lampir remove their post above, but have been completely ignored. I find the lack of response immature.

Based on poor RP between Lampir and myself nearly a year ago, which led to even less inspiring PMs, I have made a concentrated effort to stay far away from them IG. The above post by Lampir puts that position in jeopardy.

This game/PW is supposed to be fun, but my interactions with Lampir and IC between Krasc and Kaltyra have been absolutely NO FUN, therefore, I'm not having it.

As I told Lampir in my ignored PMs, if Kaltyra attempts to interact with the Orcbloods or Krasc, I will straight up ignore them and remove my toon from the situation. And, any IC information presented to Krasc or the Orcbloods either gained or created by Kaltyra, will also be ignored, in regard to storyline development.

Thank you for reading.

[stevebarracuda]

Sitting still in the lair of the Orcbloods, Krasc feels a beat within the earth...a beat not unlike the drum, the war drum to be exact, distinctly in a rhythm that heats the blood of any true Gray Orc.

The drum beat touches him with emotion, a wave of understanding that is awoken from memory fom so very long ago, a memory of childhood, before his tribe was lost, before he was lost...

The drum beat sings to him.

Standing, he raises his hulking form towards the cave entrance, and passing through the enchantments that hold this lair safe, he steps outside into the air north of Beregost, and West of the Sharpteeth Woods.

Outside, his nostrils open up as he breathes deeply, catching something on the wind that only those with such a keen sense could interpret:

A tribe is on the move, the tribe that has remained outside his nomadic circle, yet now, slightly overlaps.

Krasc, the Hand of the Orcbloods, turns East and walks steadily into the woods, quarter staff in hand.

His inner strength prepares him for the unknown...even if that leads to the end of one life, and into another...

[Crimsonchamp]

The scent of the far north of Vaasa comes stumbling near Baldur's Gate. A faint bloody scent, out of place, but definitely orcish.

The young wanderer seeks, clad in strange bloody red thick cloth, those branched off from his homeland as his own was torn from his blood stained hands.

His mask and hood concealing his face, Zargog searches, in hopes of finding any orc-blooded who may have him.

[stevebarracuda]

A large hulking figure sat solemnly upon a small boulder nestled at the base of a rolling hill, in the deep hollows of the Sharpteeth Woods. Hooded, masked, covered in robe-like cloths with firmly wrapped and padded boots, the figure held a large battlestaff in it's hands, circling the edge of the boulder where it touched the earth, scrapping against it with the worn yet hardened end of wicked tooled wood. Amongst the tree-lined backdrop, and from afar, this figure appeared as a lonesome traveler at rest along some journey or another, taking respite in the midday sun, as it shown through trees slowly losing leaves from the seasonal change.

The figure continued to sit there, moving the staff from one edge of the base of the boulder to the next, periodically raising it's head, not to the sky, but as if putting nose to air...then, slowly bringing it's covered face back to an even plane, looking outward into depths of the woods...in a northerly direction...

A fair amount of time did pass, and the hulking figure suddenly stood up from it's resting place on the small boulder, grasping the battlestaff in both hands, but not using it to raise his body to an upright position. For a mere second, the figure lowered it's head in the direction of the boulder, as it taking a final look at something upon it, then, without any warning, the figure bursts into an enhanced run, north, towards another edge of the forest that faces river, and mountain.

The now empty wooded backdrop returns to it's quiet emptiness, the sounds of the wildlife creeping back into the background din, often overshadowed by the wind...and the small boulder, once occupied as seat and space for rest, becomes simply another boulder amongst them all...except for the dark stain of rubbed wood at it's base, the rubbed mark that points in one, obvious, direction...

///Also:

http://bgtscc.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=28876