The battle is lost and won and now we'll be moving into an extended interlude where each turn will occupy a far smaller space of time than the normal 6 week turns. There'll be a few dramatic choices for Grok'mash to make at the end of the arc and I'm currently trying to decide whether to give you the players the choice on these by votes or whether to write them out as narrative. I'm inclined toward the former currently, but I do feel the later is more true to the purpose of the quest. Comments welcome.
The March of Forneus 1
[x] South
The dead or the living?
That's the question that faces you.
Could any others have survived as Scorn had? Either rushing away before Forneus had crushed the defensive position, or perhaps still alive under the rubble? Anyone you didn't save now would surely be dead soon enough, whether to terror in the darkness, slowly suffocating or simply starving while trapped under rocks, or torn apart by the savage beasts of the Barrens while cowering at the nearby oases.
The dead or the living?
Meanwhile Forneus was striding toward Orgrimmar. The Elemental would be slow, ignorant of terrain and perhaps constrained by it, or so you hoped... Could the duke travel over rough ground or did his size prevent him? On the other hand, such a powerful lord would have command over the earth, would this speed his travel? He was heading east, and the only location of note there was Orgrimmar, the capital of the centaurs' enemy, your own people. If he reached the city many would die. You didn't doubt he'd be defeated by the combined power of the Horde's shaman, no doubt led by the Warchief, but the damage Forneus might do before they brought him down…
The dead or the living?
If you stayed here you might dig a few of your warriors out of the rubble, you might rally any survivors. But you also knew you'd be condemning more to die when Forneus broke through the gates of Orgrimmar without warning.
It must be the living.
"We go south. We warn Orgrimmar of what's coming."
Scorn and Kartha accept your order without a word and even before dawn you'd set out.
It was a week's march to the Crossroads, or so you reckoned it. That was too long.
"We march through the night." you order, "Scavenge what you can."
You navigate by the stars, walking through hills that weren't here a week ago, boots sticky with some black, tarlike stuff leaking up from the ground, the stench of smoke in your nostrils, once more subsisting on those unnamed meats from the wreckage of the mountain, supplemented by what little Kartha could forage on your way.
The Elements were silent to you, as if you were a void in the world. You felt neither wind nor sun, food was like ash in your mouth as you trudged onward.
You'd never seen a volcano before the battle but now you'd seen many, new eruptions to your right along the western mountains. The days were dark, but the nights darker, clouds of soot billowing across Azeroth as if to signal the whole world the depths of your weakness, the severity of your defeat.
You meet few travellers on the road, though on one occasion you shelter atop a series of boulders to shelter from a herd of kodos, maddened by the elements' upheaval. Of all the things you see during the journey, from the corpses of ash-choked animals to great rifts you had to navigate around which split the land, these kodo best exemplified the chaos that now walked the land, a noble and stoic creature turned to frenzy.
Eventually the Crossroads came into sight, but you find what used to be a bustling settlement has been thrown into just as great a confusion as the rest of the region. Not a single building of the settlement is undamaged. One watchtower has fallen across the town into the road and a dozen orcs are straining at the pillars to move them from the thoroughfare, while many of the walls are wrecked and leaning, unlikely to resist any assault. Many buildings seem to be fire-damaged.
"If you're wounded, go to the healers, if you have news, report to Mankrik by the Burning Blade's banner." a guard announces tiredly, barely examining you after verifying that the three of you are orcs.
While the buildings have fallen, your people are resilient and already tents have gone up, hides stretched across the ruins to house the town's people.
You find the town commanded by one of your own clan, Mankrik the Blademaster, one of the ones who'd come up during your research months ago into the wanderers, though the banner draped behind him over a large stone looks as bedraggled and worn as you feel, but not only is he there, there are two more you recognise.
The first has skin the colour of fresh blood, and as he turns to you his eyes flash like your father's. Small horns are clear on his head and spurs of bone protrude from his elbows and shoulders, his vestments tattered and stained.
The other has brown skin, one of the first with such colouring you've ever seen, notwithstanding Rexxar and Angrais. He wears a sort of white paint in many whorls and spirals across his chest, runes running down his arms.
Sesk and Ishi, two of the renegade blademasters of your clan.
The scene between the three is tense, Mankrik unsupported, only a long knife at his belt, the other two well armed with the swords of their tradition. You arrival breaks the tension and you walk forward, the sigil of the Burning Blade on your chest proud despite the battle damage.
As you look at the three all the frustration of these last few months seems to well up inside you, Mankrik had gone off to start a family and left your clan to dishonour, while the other two had supposedly been wandering the Barrens for their own amusement. What could these three have done in the battle? Akinos had single handily thrown back the Kolkar again and again, what more could you have done with three more like him?
"Once I wanted to be like you." you remark, coming to a halt and looking up at them, each having at least head and shoulders on you in height. "Once I wanted to take up the blade and honour my clan's traditions, now my mentor is dead and our traditions broken while you sit at your leisure. Hail cowards, it doesn't surprise me to find those such as you sheltering while others make war."
Three warriors such as stand before you of course can't ignore such an insult, which is exactly as you wanted, you wanted their attention, you needed their swords. However, while Sesk's lips curl over a toothy snarl and Ishi frowns, they keep their discipline.
"We do not sit in leisure, we defend this town." replies Mankrik, and unlike the others he just sounds tired, his face deeply lined with worry.
"Who are you to speak to us thus?" asks Ishi at the same time.
"Grok'mash, son of Neeru."
Ishi gives a short laugh, "The boy who wants to be a blademaster! We've heard of you, where's your weapon, 'blademaster'?"
You'd received similar taunts from your father and others, but this time you ignored it, "Broken by Jubei'thos."
"What?"
"Impossible!"
The accusations fly but you ignore them and speak instead to Mankrik. You hadn't heard he'd taken a command position but perhaps he's merely taken leadership while someone else is wounded. "Jubei'thos is some creature of shadow, occupying a human's body. Akinos recognised him and he didn't deny the name when questioned. He rallied the Kolkar against our folk at Dreadmist and we fought them over a day. The Kolkar are destroyed, so are all our people at Dreadmist. I fought Jubei'thos and Akinos gave his life to save me. The centaur summoned up a great elemental lord which is now heading east, we must take warning to Orgrimmar."
While Mankrik might have failed his duty in your eyes he doesn't balk at the news. "The Kolkar are destroyed completely?"
"We killed at least a thousand on the mountain and I saw no war parties on the plains, they sacrificed themselves to call up the Elemental, I must have a windrider to warn Orgrimmar."
Mankrik regards you coolly. "All my wyverns are occupied." he says simply, "You may be the chief's son, but I command here, any creature of such strength will be found out by scouts from the capital, they'll warn themselves. Meanwhile we've already heard the Bristleback are gathering in their kraals, if there are any with the wit among our enemies to see our position they'll close in and destroy us in our weakness. I need all the fighters here that I can get!" he pauses, looking at the other two blademasters, "Even those I would normally refuse."
Sesk makes a dismissive noise, a sharp upturn of his head in a challenge that Mankrik ignores.
The commander dismisses you, usually an insult to your rank but now you're more concerned by his dismissal of Forneus. He might be right that the Quillboar could overtake the settlement, but at least one wyvern could surely be spared to carry you to Orgrimmar? The Duke of Earth would have reached half-way to the Southfury river by now and could ford it any day and move on through Durotar.
You quickly regroup with the others, telling them what's happened and receiving their news in turn.
"The shaman are down to healing with poultices and potions, they say the Elements are in uproar and no longer hear their prayers." says Scorn.
Could this mean the shaman of Orgrimmar too are unable to defend the city against Forneus? They would have been the first response, if they were weakened how could the city survive?
"The land bleeds fire." Kartha reports, "A dozen streams of it said one troll who'd been on scouting duties, all the bridges over the river have been thrown down and they say Thunder Ridge is underwater."
Could the Southfury have broken its banks somehow? Drained into the canyons of Durotar, those many forked roads where you'd fought the goblin Darkstorm?
What do you do?
Choose 1:
[ ] The city must survive
Orgrimmar cannot fall, the capital cannot go unwarned of what's approaching, regardless of what Mankrik supposed. If he won't give you a wyvern you must take one. Steal a windrider and fly for Orgrimmar as fast as it's wings can carry you and make sure the Warchief knows what's coming.
[ ] The way of caution
Mankrik indicated the Quillboar might be about to attack, and to leave so soon might leave a hole in the town's defences, additionally it's what your current commander has ordered and to disobey in a time like this is will not be looked on well.
[ ] By land instead
Wyverns are rare and there's never enough of them. To take one now might leave the town exposed, but to take a riding wolf instead would be less objectionable. Can you make it across the broken land, flooded by fire and water both before Forneus reaches Orgrimmar?
[Write in] Something else
You come up with another plan...
Write ins are encouraged on this one, if you can think of something then sure, do it. The only way I can think of currently that you'd be able to fight Forneus yourself is overdosing on sapta, but I don't think the character would come up with this, so if you want to do that and ODST yourself into his face then sure write it in.
You're operating on limited information so while I'll answer some questions I won't comment on others.
