Warcraft: The Rise of the Mag'har

[torroar]

Note: Yes. Another Torroar Quest. Watch as I burn. ​

Warcraft: The Others The Rise of the Mag'har​

There are many mighty Kingdoms and Empires that grace the land of Azeroth. Your world has seen tides of blood, shed from every possible vein, again and again. From the wild trolls of the Amani Empire who once threatened the entire of existence of Quel'Thalas as well as that of humanity, to the vicious Orcish Horde. More recently, the devastatingly powerful Scourge ravaged many of the Seven Kingdoms of Man that spawned from the mighty Arathor, progenitor nation of all humanity on Azeroth. There were villains, there were heroes, and at their hands titanic and perhaps eternal changes to the landscape both physical and otherwise have been enacted.

You didn't have a single hand in any of those things.

Maybe you were a part of that group, but didn't partake. Maybe you weren't around at all. The point is simple: there are many powerful entities in the universe, and you aren't any of them.

But this is your story, so who knows what might happen?

MAP OF OUTLAND HERE, however note that perhaps not all locations will be named as they were in canon, considering everything.

Bonus Rule: Heroic Intervention allows for Dranosh to personally act in single military action in a given turn, boosting its chances of Success by 10% and adding a 10 to its roll. Much in this universe is done at the hands of a single powerful individual rather than whole armies. Dranosh is one of those individuals. Can enact bonus same turn as unlocked.

Omake List
[Canon] Grogal of the Aldor - Pathos
[Noncanon] Interrupt - LokiTheDarkGod
[Canon] The Four Shamans - Pathos
[Canon] In Zangarmarsh - Massgamer
[Semicanon] Dranosh and the Laughing Skulls - Pathos
[Noncanon] A Shieldmaster? - Lost Star
[Noncanon] On Blademasters - Avalon

Spoiler: Choices Not Chosen

Choose Faction​

The 'Kingdom' of Alterac: The previous King of Alterac, a Perenolde, doomed your people with his cowardice and fear. He allied himself with the Horde during the Second War, which resulted in the rest of the Alliance turning against your people with incredible fury. The small amount of lands you possessed was further annexed thanks to your rivals in the Kingdom of Stromgarde. After that, bloody Deathwing tried to take control of your lands! Why do you know that? Because you aren't a Perenolde, you were a simple commoner in their service. No longer, however, especially now that your former lords have turned to terrible criminal actions and dishonorable actions to try and regain their Kingdom. But you still love your lands, and you did swear to protect its peoples. Fate has thrust upon you a chance to forge Alterac anew. Will you rise up? Or will you be swept under by the tide?

- Start as a former Knight of Alterac, a former Mage of Alterac, or a former Priest of Alterac. Each carries its own advantages, backstory, and disadvantages, to be revealed if this option is selected.

Advantages:
1) The Rare Bug Beneath The Boot: The idea of an Alterac anew is a stunning one, as your lands have essentially become abandoned ruins following the Second War. No one expected anyone to try and rebuild it. So long as you are careful, it will take a while for you to get onto anyone's radar. (No one knows you're there…for now)
2) Natural Defenses: The Alterac Mountains are a hardy place to live. The air is freezing and fresh, and the land itself rocky and hard to traverse if you are not native to it. During the winters, it's the coldest place in the northern half of the continent. Good natural defenses to have. (Large Defense Bonus)
3) Still There: The capital, Alterac City, is remarkably not a complete ruined wreck. It will be much easier to rebuild it than it would be to construct a new home. (Reduced Cost of Repairing Capital City)
Disadvantages:
1) Angry Nobility: So, the Perenolde's don't really like the idea of anyone other than them ruling Alterac. But they were cowards and relatively terrible, and now have formed a full blown criminal organization known as the Syndicate. You cannot, in good conscience, follow them. Unfortunately, this means that you have a group of rogues and assassins who really don't like you. (Start With An Enemy)
2) You're That Guy: Everyone remembers how Alterac allied with the Horde back in the day. Everyone. Not the greatest thing to be remembered for. You're people were first thought of as weak, now you are thought of as traitors, and even to both sides! You gave up the Alliance, and then you ran out of the grasp of the Horde. (Penalties to Diplomacy)
3) Slim Wallet: You were known as the weakest Kingdom for many reasons, but the one that really matters to you at the moment is the fact that your coffers were never the fattest. Doesn't mean that can't change, but still, a bit of a problem for a fledgling nation. (Reduced Income At Start Of Game)

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The Skarnjar Clan: Your people were once mighty. A vast and prosperous nation that ruled all of Northrend. But, one day, under the leadership of Ymiron, your King, your people retreated. Into solitude, and for many, into complete and utterly sleep that was magically induced. But your people, the Skarnjar, have always had a bit of a rebellious streak, against both him and even the general rest of the Vrykul race. Ymiron did not build his nation with kind words, but with bloody fists and your own broken bones. But he's gone now. Most Vrykul slumber now, meaning that their lands are open. Ymiron slumbers, and so he cannot control you any longer. Led by you, your people are poking their heads out of the snow and caves for the first time in millennia. No one can tell you what to do. Or how to do it. There's a word for this: Perfect.

- Begin as a Vrykul Clan, disloyal to King Ymiron. Northrend awaits…

Advantages:
1) Early Bird Gets The Worm: The rest of the Vrykul race have retreated into slumber at the orders of King Ymiron so long ago. Others have hidden away into the darkest and deepest holds. You, on the other hand, have not. Your peers are not awake or present. That means that a lot of land is yours for the taking. Be cautious however, as Ymiron is not incapable of noticing and waking if you should do too much too quickly. (Can do much, so long as you don't wake up Ymiron who could crush you with the rest of the Vrykul race under his command.)
2) Large And In Charge: Your people tower over the majority of Northrends inhabitants. Your physical power is undeniable. Each individual Vrykul is more than a match for entire handfuls of the tiny races of the world. (Naturally stronger, combat bonuses. Manual labor bonuses)
3) Divergent: The Skarnjar are atypical Vrykul. You were one of the very last independent clans, and even then Ymiron could not stamp out your culture and beliefs. For instance – the idea that manual labor is beneath you, a concept spread that Ymiron and his constant barrages about Vrykul superiority, is in the general Skarnjar opinion – stupid. Everyone works for the community, Ymira-idiot. (Do not have traditional Vrykul values)
Disadvantages:
1) Unfavored: You were one of the loudest opponents of Ymiron. You also…lost. Unlike most other loyalist clans, you were not given clutches of Proto-Dragons to raise and use, or any of the better metals and equipment. But no matter, with no one else around, you can get your own, so there! (Start with less fun Vrykul stuff)
2) Large and Scary: The Vyrkul are big, scary, and notable in the history of Northrend for being pretty brutal and mean. Even if you don't really care about other groups, that doesn't mean that they don't care -negatively- about you. (Reduction to Diplomacy with other Northrend Groups)
3) From Scratch: When your people up and abandoned everything on Ymirons order…you really abandoned it. (Start with zero infrastructure)

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The Wildhammer Clan: Unsuccessful in wrestling control of Ironforge from the Bronzebeard and Dark Iron clans, Wildhammer warriors traveled north through the barrier gates of Dun Algaz and tried to settle in Grim Batol. Unfortunately for you those bastard Dark Irons attacked you in your new home, and though you were able to slaughter them all including the Modgud, the wife of the Dark Irons leader Thaurissan. So you traveled again, and have settled in the Hinterlands. You have many new neighbors in Lorderon, Stromgarde, Quel'Thalas, as well as the many forest trolls inhabiting your new home. It should be interesting, if anything else.
- Be the Wildhammer, just as they settle Aerie Peak.

Benefits
1) Bravery: Armed with their fabled stormhammers Wildhammer warriors are utterly fearless in battle against any and all odds. (Bonus to army and martial actions, has a chance to lead to recklessness though)
2) Nature: Unlike their other brethren, the Wildhammers favor of nature magic of all kinds, particularly Shamanism. This has also spared them from the strange archeological fascination that has taken their other brethren. (Access to shamanism, possibly druidism, less likely to poke at ancient deadly ruins that should be left alone)
3) Bonding: With their affinity for nature all Wildhammer mounts have a tendency to become ferociously loyal to their masters, often growing in intelligence as their bond grows and deepens. (Large bonuses to cavalry actions and breeding)
Detriments
1) Distant: As stalwart as they are in the defense of their allies, Wildhammers are distant and hesitant to trust other races. They like to keep to themselves, their mounts, and nature spirits. (Minus to diplomacy actions, nearly everyone views you as kind of feral)
2) Technological Disdain: Being more in tuned with nature does have its consequences. While their craftsmanship is nothing to scoff at, the Wildhammers are uncomfortable around or building high-tech gadgets and the like.
3) Free-spirited: Many Wildhammers tend to follow their own paths in life. Often taken by bouts of wanderlust these dwarfs leave home in search of adventure, many of them young. This inevitably leaves the population waning at times. (Unstable population, but has a chance bring in riches, prestige, and potential heroes if they return or are called back)

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Mag'har: Years before Kil'jaeden's deception of Ner'zhul, a virulent plague known as the red pox spread among the orcish clans. A quarantine village was established in beautiful Nagrand by Greatmother Geyah, called Garadar. None were allowed to come close. This…is all that saved your people. From corruption. From destruction. The old clan allegiances fell away as you all struggled together. This only continued as you watched your former clans turn into bloodthirsty beasts with no concept of honor, humility, or mercy. Greatmother Geyah, mother of Durotan, has recently fallen ill, weakened after the many years of the red pox. The Mag'har are alone now, on this shattered world. But you are, before anything else, orcs. You will survive. No matter the cost…you will survive.

- Play as Garrosh Hellscream, Dranosh Saurfang, or Jorin Deadeye.

Advantages:
1) Shamanism: Though the demons of the Burning Legion tricked the Shadowmoon and pretty much everyone else, they didn't care to do so with the sickly dying orcs of Garadar. Your people still have the rituals and ability to beseech the elements for assistance. The elements may be weakened, along with the rest of the floating continent, but they are still mighty. (As long as you don't piss them off, the spirits can provide great assistance)
2) Blood of Heroes: The children of the many orcish clans were given to Garadar to keep them safe from the Red Pox. Among those children are the descendants of some of the mightiest orcish Chieftains in history. History and strength in spades flows through their veins. (Individual orcs are quite good)
3) Grand Old Nagrand: Nagrand is one of the very few places left on Draenor to be so beautiful and bountiful. Many natural resources abound here, if only you can get at the damn things. (Many natural resources to be gained)
Disadvantages:
1) Savage: Your people make their weapons out of stone, and don't wear much in the ways of armor. This is both a cultural and knowledge based restriction. Perhaps, with time, your people can advance beyond it? (Very low tech)
2) On The Brink: The Mag'har are strong, all orcs are, but you can rarely afford many losses. Your numbers are very few. It will take many generations to reach a truly appreciable size. (Low numbers)
3) Foes on All Sides: You're nearly hostile with the nearby Draenei. Those are your warmest relations. You are directly hostile with all the other corrupted orcs, ogres, spiders, ghosts, and other sundry creatures on Draenor. You have no friends at the moment. (Many enemies at start.)
Neat:
1) The Spirits Are With Us: Though the demons of the Burning Legion tricked the Shadowmoon and pretty much everyone else, they didn't care to do so with the sickly dying orcs of Garadar. As such, your people still have the rituals and ability to speak to your ancestors for guidance. (Old spirits can complain at you.)

 

[torroar]

Mag'har Nation​

The Mag'har Nation is largely concentrated across fortified settlements and some smaller outposts, though isolated farms and hamlets do exist. The nomadic ancestral lifestyle of the Mag'har ensures a large amount of travel all over the ancient orcish homeland of Nagrand as well as a lack of much sedentary inclinations for many. Instead, bands of orcs can be found travelling and hunting across the land, forming temporary camps of hide and bone tents, and then moving on. Trade caravans and martial patrols are also a regular occurrence. The Mag'har are not simply those who were left untainted by the Legion and the Horde's fel excesses, nor is the nation made up of wholly individual clans any longer. It was the Horde which was designed to emphasis clan differences, to strive for prestige and glory against one another in a fractured mass. Instead, the name 'Mag'har' which translated literally means 'Uncorrupted' has extended to mean something new, though yet not fully defined. It is a new identity, for an new people, who are all Mag'har, not Frostwolf or Blackrock or otherwise, in the new world that is Draenor.

Contents Guide:
Settlement Section = [1]
Peoples Section = [2]

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[1] Notable Settlements [Nagrand]:​

• Garadar, The Capital: Formerly the only Mag'har settlement in existence, it began as a place to dump all those afflicted by the deadly Red Pox. From all clans, across the Horde and beyond, were orcs placed here so that they could die away from everyone else. Virulent and contagious symptoms required that Nagrand be largely abandoned or at the very least avoided by the evil demonically empowered Horde. Bodies were piled atop bodies, and left to die while the Horde went on to attempt to conquer the world of Azeroth. It is now much larger than before, and has been re-organized as a proper city rather than the quarantine village of before. It possesses the best defenses out of all Mag'har holdings, a dedicated guard force, and is the seat of power in Nagrand. Towers and walls guard it in dual layers, and the housing and production facilities have been expanded heavily. It is here that the shamans of the Mag'har train, and are instructed. Here they commune with the spirits and nearby Throne of Elements, beseeching the elements for their aid.
• Sunspring: What began as a small village to send those who recovered from the Red Pox by order of Warchief Saurfang has grown far beyond its original purpose. Fishing, farming, hunting, this has become one of the major food production locations for the Mag'har Nation. Contrary to past orcish tradition, again at the behest of the Warchief orcs have been encouraged to regularly walk and trade across Nagrand rather than staying and providing only for their own personal living location. It has gained plenty of defenses of its own, along with all Nagrand settlements. It is the closest to where the former Twilight Gate stood, and is near the draenei settlement of Halaa. The two trade regularly, a good sign for orc-draenei relations in the future.
• Dranosh'ar: Dranosh'ar began as an unnamed settlement by the still Horde-compliant Mogor the Ogre, who had forcibly taken control of the Laughing Skull clan in the past for his master Gul'dan and the Shadow Council. Freed in a duel by Warchief Saurfang, it is now populated by the green skinned yet still free Mag'har of the Laughing Skull clan. Despite, and perhaps even because of their coloring and past forced loyalties, the Laughing Skulls have become the most dedicated orcs to the Warchief even beating out the Blackrock Clan. Anything that the Warchief says, they do without question, even naming their home after their liberator. Large walls, multiple watch towers, and stake barriers mark their settlement. They guard the northwestern road out of Nagrand and keep a wary eye on the ogres in the hills to the west. Additionally, the Ring of Blood, a gladiatorial arena on the outskirts, has been refurbished and is now a place for settling disagreements, sharpening the edges of your warriors, and blunting the foolishness of youth in a controlled environment.
• Hallvalor: The home of the now defunct Burning Blade Clan has been reclaimed for the purposes of the Mag'har Nation. It's cave systems are used for storage of food, medicines, and weapons, while its walls have been rebuilt. The housing has been repaired and repopulated, and has become the third most populated settlement in Nagrand proper due to its size. In memory of how the Burning Blade used to be before they went insane with demonic blood lust, Hallvalor has become the place where many warriors go to train, keeping up the martial traditions which have been sunk into the village's bones for generations. Where Dranosh'ar is where the rogues and scouts of the Mag'har are trained, and Sunspring its hunters, Hallvalor is where the warriors of the Mag'har are trained to a razor sharp edge. They provide eyes for the eastern approach and north eastern approach into Nagrand, in equal measure.
• Northwatch: Blocking off the whole of the northeastern passage into Nagrand into and from Zangarmarsh is a massive and lengthy wall, manned and patrolled by Mag'har forces. It also has watchtowers protecting it, and a small amount of barracks and other such militarized structures on the Nagrand-side of the wall, to ensure the protection of the land itself from any threats that might come in that direction.

Notable Settlements [Talador]:​

• Gul'rok: Beyond Nagrand proper lies the home of the Bleeding Hollow Clan, led by their leader Jorin Deadeye. It is here that the secrets of the arcane are pored over by orcish eyes and orcish hands, and that the Bleeding Hollow stand ready to follow their fearless leader in whatever he does. They do not fear death, the Bleeding Hollow, and this relentless dedication to study and death in equal measures has made them a prime force to defend the eastern approach into Nagrand. Of course, should any actually push past Gul'rok they would be forced to contend with Hallvalor. Regardless, a place of study, it has grown self-sustaining, and possesses numerous defenses of its own. After losing it to the ogres once the orcs of this clan are determined not to lose their home again. Gul'rok is the last Mag'har holding before one must trek through the warped forests of Talador to reach Shattrath, for that is the only place to go in these times for orcs.​
• Stonebreaker Outpost: A forward operating base to help track down as well as prep troops in the ongoing fight against the demons and Horde forces which stream out of Shadowmoon Valley. At the moment a small outpost, but easily expandable in the future. It is located near the Alliance base known as the Allerian Stronghold.

Notable Settlements [Zangarmarsh]:​

• Zang'rok: A new settlement, primarily concerned with containing the Zangamarsh Gate, they have meager yet efficient fishing facilities. Populated by a strong garrison force, whatever Zang'rok may later become is a secondary concern to the now. They are focused entirely on killing demons, and preventing them from contaminating the rest of the land or providing the Burning Legion with more soldiers onto the land.

Notable Settlements [Hellfire Peninsula]:​

• Kaz'ar Post: A small settlement located high in the hills of northwestern Hellfire Peninsula which is a short distance away from the Velenic-controlled Temple of Telhamat. It provides a good observation area, and a potential defensive position against Legion assaults. Or anyone else. The high altitude makes it a potential place to train aerial troops.

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[2]The Mag'har Peoples:​

• Orcish Peoples of the Mag'har: Through the efforts of its leadership, the Mag'har Nation has striven to blur and remove the lines between the clans which the Horde favored. In the Horde, different clans would betray, steal, and lie to each other in order to strive for individual glory which often lead to a needless waste of orcish lives for no purpose but the enjoyment of their demonic masters in the Legion and the Shadow Council. The orcs which make up the Mag'har are the cast-offs, the elderly, the too-young, and those who fell victim to the Red Pox and were 'disgraced' in the eyes of the Horde for their 'weakness' against disease. Now, however, the Red Pox has passed, and the numbers of the Mag'har grow with each year, while many perfectly good warriors who were once struck low stand tall and proud. Some Mag'har still retain an individualistic interpretation of orcish society and their clans, the vast majority of the Mag'har recognize that they are of the same blood, no matter the origin and previous history, and are now effectively one family together. In the Mag'har, traditions are joined together, skills and stories shared, and the Nation is stronger for it.​
  • For historical comprehensiveness, the following known clans were part of the founding of the Mag'har Nation or joined shortly afterwards: Frostwolf, Blackrock, Bleeding Hollow, Warsong, Shadowmoon, Laughing Skulls.

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[torroar]

A Legend Begins​

The world itself had shattered, everything you had ever known had fallen apart in a mass of explosions and death. The skies were ripped asunder, to be replaced with a harsh and disturbing current of twisting oceans of dark energies that hurt to stare at too long. Draenor, your home, had been utterly torn to shreds for reasons you could only hope to understand. Some said that the spirits had finally grown as furious as to try and end the orcish race as a whole because of the actions of your former clans, of the monstrous corrupted. Others said that it was the actions of the strange ones from beyond the Dark Portal who had been driven to try and destroy the corrupted for their actions on some distant plains. Still others whispered that it was the mad Ner'zhul, mirroring the actions of his protégé Gul'dan in the Shadowmoon Valley save for on a far grander scale.

You do not know.

Right now, however, it matters little. For Garadar, and Nagrand in general, had managed to survive the storm. The farthest outriders report that the world simple…ends…after a fair distance, but only to the point from where the oceans once reached. So really, it is as if the entire continent had left your world behind only now to drift on these disturbing new currents like a piece of massive flotsam. You do not know, personally, how to take this. But you do know this: you will endure. It is the orcish way, not to surrender even in the face of such terrible adversity.

Garadar has just barely managed to get itself together, organized once more under the venerable and greatly respected hands of Greatmother Geyah who had saved you all by organizing the construction. It had been a strange thing, such a static settlement that did not belong to any one single clan, but the fact that so many children of the greater clans had been sent here for protection was not lost on anyone. But then, then you were forced to watch as your people descended into…monsters. Honor, respect for the elements, all cast to the wayside. You watch as the verdant lands of the rest of the world fell to ruin and taint, as the noble brown skin of those who for some were literally fathers turned a disgusting unnatural green.

One of the fathers, the Chieftains, has come again.

You wished that he hadn't.

"Give me your warriors you pathetic old bitch! I must retake Hellfire Citadel!" bellowed the bloodied and greatly wounded orc. Behind him, his dozens of warriors in similar conditions added their own cries.

He had brought over a hundred snarling orcs with him, this bloodied green beast of rage. For the past hour you have watched the two debate, leader to leader.

Many of the Mag'har stepped back, fearful that perhaps the green taint of corruption carried on these…others…flesh could somehow be spread through the air. For all you know, it could be.

Greatmother Geyah stood tall, her back straight, despite the wasting of her body from the red pox. Her hands are held tight at her sides, and her voice which quavers so often is sharper than any blade at this very moment in time.

"I deny you, Kargath Bladefist. Too many of us suffer still from the red pox. I will not have you throw our sickly and frail against the blades of this 'Alliance' which you foolish younglings brought to Draenor!"

It is true. Far too many of those in Garadar lay in the shadows, barely able to drink, much less eat, even less so fight. Everyone who can still hold any weapon of any type is desperately needed to preserve the small city that the village developed into as more and more were quarantined. The 'Alliance' a race of never before seen creatures stormed through the Dark Portal, and beat back the vaunted Horde that so many of Garadar's mothers and fathers were a part of. A Horde shattered it seems. Mere hours ago, Kargath Bladefist, Chieftain of the Shattered Hand, stormed up to Garadar, demanding an audience. With less warriors than even half of his battered and weary band, there was little you could do to stop him.

Perhaps, in another world, Kargath would have simply taken the denial and left in a rage. He might have accepted the Greatmother's words for the truth that they were. Perhaps. But here, a single sword strike from a 'human' footman had lanced its way near his heart, and so his temper ran just a single hair higher. This hulking green brute, here, and now, did something that would not be accepted.

Raising his trademark 'Bladefist' high, Kargath roared, swinging it downwards to strike the Greatmother where she stood!

However.

Many of the young were sick with the Red Pox, or had only recently made it through and were still too weak. Of the sons of the major orcish Chieftains in the camp, only three had recently recovered to what could charitably be called 'full health'.

All three had stood nearby, a brotherhood of convenience brought together by those sons unrelated by naught by race.

One was closer. Close enough stop it.

You.

Of course, you are a complete and utter youngling compared to Kargath who has decades of experience and skill over you. A bit foolhardy perhaps, but you refused to let the woman who had nursed you when none others could, who had quite literally saved your life from the pox, be struck down by this green piece of corrupted shit.

With a roar, you charge forward, for you are

Choose Character:​

Garrosh Hellscream: Your father, Grommash Hellscream, is one of the most famous orcish Chieftains on Draenor. His power and skill were undeniable! When Kargath arrived, you had hoped to fight with him! To prove yourself! To fight for the Horde! You begged Bladefist for tales of your father, to tell you of the great and powerful warrior that is the Chieftain of the Warsong, but you cannot, will not abide him striking Greatmother Geyah. If he does not wish to tell you of your father, then perhaps she will. Maybe even she shall tell you of the tales that few know, as gratitude? But that is a thought for later, first you need to stop Kargath!

Dranosh Saurfang: Unlike that excitable Garrosh, you know exactly what your father was like. You know the tales of the mighty Varok, and of your uncle the honorable and courageous Broxigar. The blood of the Saurfang runs through your veins, the blood of a warrior! You were hidden away as less than a babe by your father as a promise to your now dead mother whose spirit perhaps even now lays in Oshu'gun. Out of the Three Sons of the Chieftains, you are the youngest, and are considered by many to be a whelp. But no matter, your strength is in your ancestors. The might of the Saurfang has been passed down for generations, as has your honor! No orc of honor would allow the Greatmother to be struck for protecting her charges! LOK'TAR!

Jorin Deadeye: Pah. Naiveté. Arrogance. You have none of these things. Out of the Three Sons, you know your death. A secret between you and the ritual where you gave up your eye, but a secret you know. This is not where you die. You are the Chieftain of what remains of the Bleeding Hollow, having led them here after the ogres to the south took your home. You have the experience and the knowledge, but though you may be considered to be a cold sort by the rest of the Mag'har, you will not let this arrogant and corrupted beast hurt the Greatmother. She does not deserve that.

Mystery Character

 

[torroar]

Note: Last one of these, I promise. Then we can get into actual traditional turns. ​

Auspicious Beginnings​

With a roar and a strange tingling throughout your body, your vision practically tunnels as your feet carry you forward. Your vision hazes over with a thin red film, even as your chest sucks down what feels like a worlds worth of air in order to power your next few movements. Even as you begin to move you feel Garrosh take a single step forward, only to falter at the sight of your blurring brown form. As you cross the distance in a short spring of blinding speed which you are quite certain you had never possessed before, a small part of your awareness is able to catch the astonished breath of Jorin even as his bow raised upwards with an arrow nocked.

Unbidden, you feel your lips peel back into a snarling grin, but then….then you are upon him.

The Bladefist flashes down, glinting in the afternoon light of the twisting purple sky, but you care not for how deadly it is. Hellscream was always fumbling about with different weapons, not even certain of which one was favored by his father, while Jorin honed his abilities with a bow and skulked about in the shadows with the rest of the Bleeding Hollow Mag'har. But you knew precisely what weapon was favored by the Saurfang family, and though you did not possess the axe and armor that had been passed down for generations, you did possess the inborn strength of your warriors line.

Your arm twists back around to your back, where a double bladed axe is secured, and with a wrench of effort you rip it free of its bindings. In any other circumstance the destruction of the bindings and holdings which served as the effective 'scabbard' of the weapon would be a big problem, but here speed takes precedence.

In the time it has taken you to cross the distance from the recovery hut which Garrosh is still only four steps out of, in the time it has taken you to rip your axe free while simultaneously winding it back for a strike, in the time for these things and many others to happen…the Bladefist has fallen perhaps at most a third of the required distance to strike Greatmother Geyah.

It will not get any farther.

With a thundering roar that your much smaller frame should not have been able to create, you startle Kargath into looking your way, as do many others at the sight of a boy charging Chieftain. He opens his mouth, perhaps to say something, perhaps to laugh, but he does not get the chance. Your shoulder lowers like a wild Elekks, and you slam your hard muscle against the hardened leather and steel that Kargath wears.

Injured though he is, Kargath is decades your senior, and has survived far more combat than you. His own body twists even as you just barely manage to force him a hair off balance, the Bladefist redirecting much faster than it had been before against the Greatmother. It seemed that the time for dramatics was over. Any other time you would feel a harsh streak of pride at getting such a reaction from such a decorated and skilled fighter, but here, your only thought is concern for the Greatmother and rage at Kargath.

Your axe flashes forwards, and a loud note rings out as metal shatters.

The world seems to have grown silent, even the wildlife of Nagrand quieting down.

Kargath stares, incredulously, at the shattered remains of his trademark 'Bladefist', not even paying attention to the very sharp axe edge pressed against his throat.

Internally you are torn between exulting and retreating at the growing expression of fury on the elders face. You were barely a whelp! He could pop your head like a ripe melon!

But then Bladefist begins to chuckle, at first quietly, then soon he is roaring with laughter. It is not very comforting laughter, but at least he steps away with his remaining hand to cover up his face. So hard does he laugh that his whole body seems to shake and rumble as he nearly falls backwards.

You are not the only one who is confused by this but for you content yourself with turning, only barely, to Greatmother Geyah in order to ask after her. Unfortunately before you can open your mouth she merely shakes her head and with a single hand turns you around to face Kargath again.

"I thought, you said you had no serviceable warriors with you Geyah!" the mad green one bellows with laughter.

Abruptly, he cuts himself off, and the humor drains from his face. By the spirits, he truly is insane. You can see it now, the glint in his eye. That was the fate of so many of the corrupted, to be driven into such mad beasts, but you know that if he wanted to Kargath could order his warriors forward to slaughter the meagre defenders of Garadar and force you onto battle lines if he so wished.

"I would know your name whelp," he growls while glaring at you.

You are a Saurfang. You know no fear.

"Dranosh, Dranosh Saurfang."

His eyes widen in recognition. Of course they do. Your father was a famous warrior before the horrifying campaign against the Draenei had even begun.

"Hmph. No wonder. WARRIORS! We LEAVE!" Kargath roars abruptly, turning to face his motley band of greenskins as he goes.

What? You and the rest of the Mag'har stare as the Shattered Hand, what little remains of them anyhow, turn away.

"You have proven yourself to be better than the rest of these soft sickly weaklings, Saurfang, but know this: for defying me on these day you have won two things," Kargath says softly with a dark smile.

He marches forward, fast enough to make your grip on your axe turn knuckles to white, but only when he stands chest to chest to you does he speak once more.

"The first….I shall leave you disease ridden weaklings to die on your own. And when they do, you shall receive your second prize…"

He leans down until his tusks are practically touching yours.

"I shall kill you."

Then he is marching back to his followers all the while laughing in that strange manner of the insane, a curious and disturbing mixture of joy, rage, and hatred. At that moment you swear to yourself that if you never become something like that then you can perhaps die content.

Greatmother Geyah places a hand onto your pauldron, concern in her eyes. You turn to her, and suck down your own misgivings into your heart where they are crushed to powder.

"Are you well Dranosh?" her voice, so startlingly feeble, reaches your ears.

Not wanting her to strain herself further, you simply nod.

"I am, Greatmother. Please, we must return you to the tents, you are still so weakened from the Pox…"

The old woman in front of you smiles softly before allowing herself to be escorted back to her home. It is only after she leaves that you notice something. Everyone else is still here, gazing at you out of the shadows, in broad daylight, from everywhere. In some of the older orcs eyes, you see respect. Grudging, perhaps, but it is there nonetheless. Yet from others, younger eyes, you see gazes of jealousy.

Only youth, really, because who would be jealous of nearly getting killed by Kargath Bladefist but them?

"…what do we do now, Saurfang?" comes a voice from behind you.

You turn to find Jorin Deadeye, your acquaintance though not quite friend with his arms crossed behind him. The attention of the orcs around you seems to somehow become more intense as they…wait for you to speak. A whelp, nothing more to many of them before now, your identity largely quieted down on request of your father.

The pressure of what he isn't saying but really is, of what everyone is asking with their silence and gazes is…incredible. It is as if a massive gronn has stepped onto your chest, and you feel your breathing grow harsh without your bidding.

But only for a moment. You are Saurfang! Nothing will break you. Nothing.

Then your vision is clearing and you are raising your voice with breath you didn't know you had.

"We will survive, as we always have done! We shall protect ourselves, and no matter how mad the world grows, we will survive! Would you have us lay down and die now that the Portal has closed?!?:

You say, slightly turning so that your voice reaches others. Jorin's face displays nothing even as he prompts you along the same lines despite the impossibility of you having somehow been able to rehears this beforehand.

"Who would lead us in this? The Greatmother is so terribly weakened. Would you lead us, Dranosh Saurfang?" Jorin says with his arms crossed.

Though he does not raise his voice, it somehow manages to carry just as far.

Here it is. A test. For yourself and by the rest of the Mag'har.

You nod.

"If you would have me."

Almost before you are done speaking he is walking forward, to stand behind your right shoulder. The position of seconds for duels. An interesting position for him to put himself in. He is literally the only Chieftain to be amongst the Mag'har, having taken up the reins of the Bleeding Hollow. With the Dark Portal closed…he is technically the Chieftain of all Bleeding Hollow on Draenor.

What remains of it anyway.

"The Bleeding Hollow will follow Dranosh Saurfang! Who will join me!?" his voice rings out, somehow still carrying the same half-dead monotone is always has.

The Blackrock who were given to the Mag'har are perfectly willing to stand with the son of Saurfang, up until this point there had been no major leader amongst them. But that has changed with you standing up and proving yourself despite your incredible youth. They step forward.

The Frostwolves who remain with the Mag'har do nothing until one of Greatmother Geyah's attendants return. As the eldest of the Frostwolves and the spiritual and really only leader of the Mag'har, her words carry much weight. The attendant whispers to the Frostwolves, who immediately nod and step forward.

With that, you have suddenly come into control of three fourths of the major 'groups' amongst the Mag'har. The last…

With a slow shuffle, Garrosh Hellscream steps forward. He seemed so eager, before this very moment, but a faint lethargy marks his actions. Lethargy, and if your sharp eyes are anything to go by…a hint of jealousy? For not being as fast as you? You don't know at the moment. Still, despite that he raises his voice as well.

"Warsong stands with Saurfang!" he yells out.

The Warsong let out those disturbing ululating cries for which so many of them have become known, even as they too step forward.

As they do so other orcs from lesser clans begin to step forward, all crying out. They stand with Saurfang.

They stand with you.

-------------------
​

Under your leadership, several things have become apparent in the past few days. Draenor has been wrecked, but Nagrand is surprisingly pristine. It has now been a full year since the Dark Portal closed, and the animals of Nagrand have surprisingly adapted quite quickly. Garadar was largely untouched from the calamity which brought about the apocalypse. Luckily, every month a few more Mag'har stand up, the red pox having finally run its course. Good. And yet, Kargath's parting promise brings dark thoughts to your mind…

But that is not the only problem.

The spirits are utterly silent. You have no shamans amongst you who can speak to them. Only now, years later, has the true horror of Gul'dans actions become apparent. With no warlocks to essentially replace the shamans, and no shamans at all, there is no one to speak to the spirits. No one to heal your people. No one to do…well, anything that the shamans were responsible for.

With the red pox finally fading, ironically only after the rest of the Horde is either dead or trapped on a foreign world, you have run into some serious problems.

Feeding and housing sick people in quarantine is much less difficult than housing and feeding healthy orcs. They need more, and want more than just broth. They cannot be stacked in bunks and lay on floors no matter how refreshing the soil of Nagrand is. Garadar is not big enough to handle all of its citizens at the moment. And it is not as if people can return to their ancestral holdings anymore, considering that according to preliminary scouting reports many of those places might not even exist anymore.

Hmm. Many issues abound, but those two are the most pressing. Luckily, you do not face your problems without any assistance whatsoever.

You Have More Of A Certain Clan Than You Otherwise Would, Giving You Additional (Choose 2): ​

Warsong Hunting Parties: The Warsong are some of the greatest Nagrand hunters in existence. With Garrosh leading them, they can provide much of the materials your people will need to survive. Meat, for sure, but the bones and hides can be used to help create housing at a rapid pace. Your food concerns may press you mentally, but in the real world with the assistance of the Warsong you can match them easily. They also provide some meagre housing assistance. (Begin with Hunting Income, Minor Stewardship Bonuses)

Blackrock Crafters: Your clan, the Blackrock, were numerous and mighty. They were also the main crafters of the Horde. Smiths and builders, that is what your people were experts at. Muscles gained from slamming out weapons at the forge or shoving stone back and forth to build houses are often easily trained to be combat-worthy. With a lot of your clan returning to health, constructing new houses, new structures, and perhaps even entire villages will be far easier and cheaper than you had initially feared. (Large Stewardship Bonuses, Minor Military Bonuses)

Bleeding Hollow Scouts: Fearless, completely and utterly, they will follow Jorin's directives to the letter without any hint of self-perseverance. They are the sneakiest and wildest fighters one could ask for, trained for years, many since birth, to survive in the deadly jungles of Draenor. Their skill in the darkness is undeniable, as are their eyes and ears. Fantastic scouts and warriors, they are valuable indeed. (Large Intrigue Bonuses, Scouting Bonuses, Minor Military Bonuses)

Shamans Determined To Restore Their Connection To The Spirits: Frostwolf, Blackrock, Warsong, Bleeding Hollow, even the few scraps of the Shadowmoon consumed by red pox instead of Ner'zhul's madness, all of these have come together. Though Gul'dan may have severed the connection to the elements, these brave men and women are determined to restore the connection. They believe that so long as you give them the proper support i.e. protection and reagents, that they could at least get the spirits to talk to you once more. (Connection to spirits restored earlier, shamans regain powers earlier, requires additional upkeep cost)

 

[torroar]

Content Search Guide:
[1] = Character Sheets (Note: The Era Designator AA refers to After Apocalypse, when Draenor was nearly destroyed by Ner'zhul and the Horde)
[2] = Military Section
[3] = Economy Section
[4] = Relations Section
​

Character Sheets[1]​

Name: Dranosh Saurfang
Date of Birth: -13 AA
Titles: Warchief of the Mag'har, Chieftain of the Blackrock
Prestige: 1500

Martial: 20+2+2+1+4+2=31
Diplomacy: 18+2+3+2=25
Stewardship: 10+2+1=13
Piety: 18+2+2+3+2+2=29
Intrigue: 14+2+3=19
Learning: 10+2=12

• Trait: Saurfang Scion – The traditions, beliefs, and strength of the Saurfang family have been passed down the Saurfang line for generations! Strength, Honor, Duty! (+2 All Stats)
• Trait: Strong – Even though you are one of the youngest around, your body ripples with muscles. As a result you look far older than you actually are. (+2 Martial)
• Trait: Hatred of Demons - For their corruption of your race, and uncountable further crimes, you despise demons with every fiber of your being. You will never truck with them. Never. (+3 To All Stats against Demons and Demon Followers).
• Trait: Hatred of the Horde – The existence of this blight on the history and honor of the orcish people enrages you unto near blinding fury. You despise the Horde with every fiber of your being. (+3 To All Stats Against Horde)
• Trait: Scarred - Your brown hide carries plenty of scars, letting all know you have been in battle. (+Small Prestige Gain Per Turn).
• Trait: Blessing of Water - The Fury of Water has suffused you with a mote of its power. To unify and soothe pains and anger, to seep between the shadows and flow (+3 Diplomacy, +3 Intrigue, +2 Piety)
• Trait: Blessing of Earth - The Fury of Earth has suffused you with a mote of its power. To remain pure and stand free in thought and body (+1 Martial, +3 Piety, +1 Stewardship)
• Trait: Blessing of Fire - The Fury of Fire has suffused you with a mote of its power. To forge ahead with strength and passion in all things (+4 Martial, +2 Piety)
• Trait: Blessing of Wind - The Fury of Wind has suffused you with a mote of its power. Swiftness in motion, and memories of the past. To be of the Land of the Wind is to be an orc, never forget this. (+2 Martial, +2 Diplomacy, +2 Piety)
• Trait: Blessing of Life - The Fury of Life is the most powerful of all, and granted you less than a mote of its power. That is more than enough. (Vitality increased notably)
• Trait: Wolf-Brother - You have successfully tamed and become partners with a large brown-furred wolf of Draenor. Her name is Dranar. (Wolf companion for riding and to fight alongside you in battle. +1 Diplomacy To Traditionalist Orcs)

Name: Kaz
Date of Birth: -14 AA
Titles: The Shrieker, Chieftain of the Laughing Skull
Prestige: 750

Martial: 22+5+2=29
Diplomacy: 12+4+2=18
Stewardship: 17+2=19
Intrigue: 20+2+3=24
Piety: 15+2=17
Learning: 13+2=15

• Trait: Blademaster - Having trained under an inorcishly harsh regimen with the Burning Blade, Kaz has achieved the vaunted and rare position of Blademaster. (+5 to Martial, +4 Diplomacy With Orcs, +3 Intrigue)
• Trait: Daughter of the Laughing Skulls – The offspring of Kaz the Shrieker has much potential indeed… (+2 All Stats)
• Trait: Blind - Her eyes were destroyed by a treacherous ogre, now dead. However, years of training have reduced the penalties of such things and has enhanced her remaining senses to full compensate. (Previously -3 Martial, -2 Diplomacy. Now Reduces No Stats)
• Trait: Drained Soul - The curse of corrupted orcs is to be either bereft of demonic empowerment and weakened or empowered and monstrous. However, with another source of energy and invigoration, vitality lost could be returned. Empowered By Shamanism (Shamanism removes penalties).
• Trait: Hatred of Demons - For their corruption of your race, and uncountable further crimes, you despise demons with every fiber of your being. You will never truck with them. Never. (+3 To All Stats against Demons and Demon Followers).
• Trait: Pregnant - As of 7 AA, Month 4, Kaz is pregnant. In nine months from that date, she will - if all goes well - give birth to a healthy child.

The Mag'har Nation[2]
​

Orc Population: 150,000~ (Estimated)

Warriors Available: 42,200
Warrior Morale: Good
Warrior Reserves: 15,000

Reserves: The old, the too young, the sickly, anyone who can pick up a weapon and defend Garadar if you are absolutely pressed. Oh, and the peons too. You guess.
15,000 Reserve Fighters (Well, they're still orcs. So that's something. Average Attack, Defense, Morale, and Mobility)

Forces Available:

10,000 Grunts - Armored in and wielding steel and iron. The core of any orcish force. (Good Attack, Good Defense, Good Morale, Average Mobility)

7,000 Orcish Bowmen - Armored more heavily than most other races would equip their ranged troops, yet still retaining mobility and agility. (Good Attack, Good Defense, Good Morale, Good Mobility)

10,000 Orcish Raiders - Armored orcs riding atop massive wolves wielding massive blades. Also possess nets and the strength ground low-flying aerial threats/capture others. (Good Attack, Average Defense, Decent Morale, Great Mobility)

1,000 Arcane Warriors - Warriors who have trained in the magical powers of the Arcane, augmenting their abilities with magical powers and spells. (Good Attack, Good Defense, Good Mobility, Great Morale)

500 Shamans - Spiritual leaders of Mag'har society, wielders and partners of the elements capable of great destruction and good in equal measure. (Great Attack, Good Defense, Good Mobility, Good Morale)

Elite Units
1,000 Mag'har Crushers - Amongst the strongest of the Mag'har, wielding hammers and maces to shatter the foe, whilst heavily armored as well. (Great Attack, Good Defense, Good Morale, Average Mobility)
1,000 Mag'har Shadowskulls - Wielders of short blades, poisons, bows, and stealth. (Great Attack, Average Defense. Unbreakable Morale, Good Mobility)
2,000 Garadar Guard - Grunts given the honor of guarding Garadar itself. (Permanently Stationed at Garadar, Elite Grunts)​

Hero Units
​

Name: Garrosh Hellscream

Martial: 15+2+2+1+2=22
Diplomacy: 8+2+2=12
Stewardship: 10+2=12
Intrigue: 5+2=7
Piety: 13+2+3+4=22
Learning: 12+2=14

Trait: Strong – Even for an orc, Garrosh's body bulges with muscles. His strength is undeniably, even if his actual skill in combat is not the same as others the same age as him.(+2 Martial)
Trait: Hellscream Scion – As a scion of the Hellscream line, he as much potential… (+2 All Stats)
Trait: Trait: Repentant – Dedicated to making up for crimes they feel responsible for. (+1 Martial, +3 Piety)
Trait: Hatred of Demons - For their corruption of your race, and uncountable further crimes, you despise demons with every fiber of your being. You will never truck with them. Never. (+3 To All Stats against Demons and Demon Followers).
Trait: Aldor Priest - A faithful priest of the Aldor, and a wielder of the Light (+4 Piety, +2 Martial, +2 Diplomacy)

-------------------------------------------​

Name: Jorin Deadeye

Martial: 10+2+2+2+1-2=15
Diplomacy: 9+2+2+1-2=12
Stewardship: 10+2+2+1-2=13
Intrigue: 20+2+2+1-2=22
Piety: 16+2+2+1-2=17
Learning: 19+2+2+1-2=22

Trait: Bleeding Hollow Chieftain – Being the leader of the Bleeding Hollow from such an early age has rapidly matured Jorin. (+2 All Stats)
Trait: Fearless – He knows precisely when and how he will die. Anything else is arbitrary. (+2 Martial, Unbreakable Morale)
Trait: Genius – Extremely intelligent. (+2 All Stats)
Trait: First Mage - The first orc to wield the powers of the arcane. (+1 All Stats)
Trait: Hatred of Demons - For their corruption of your race, and uncountable further crimes, you despise demons with every fiber of your being. You will never truck with them. Never. (+3 To All Stats against Demons and Demon Followers).
Trait: Wounded - Not at the top of your form, this will require time to heal.
Trait: Scarred - Your brown hide carries plenty of scars, letting all know you have been in battle. (+Small Prestige Gain Per Turn).
Trait: Badly Wounded - This will take a lot of time to heal. (-2 All Stats Until Healed).

​

​

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Economy[3]
​

(Gold is the standard currency for nations in Warcraft)

Treasury: 38,500 Gold
Tax: 0 (System Not Present In Orcish Culture)

Warrior Upkeep: 1,000
Nagrand Patrol Upkeep: 1,000
Anti-Arrakoa Work: 500

Mining Income: 500
Farming Income: 5,000
Lumber Income: 0
Fishing Income: 2,000
Hunting Income: 3,500
Trading Income: 1000

Net Income: +9,500 Gold Per Turn

Economic Status of the Mag'har: Stable

Food Situation:
Current - Large Surplus

Types of Food Situations:
Massive Surplus
Huge Surplus
Large Surplus
Surplus
Small Surplus
Stable
Slight Deficit
Deficit
Large Deficit (People Begin Starving)
Huge Deficit (Half of Population is Starving)
Massive Deficit (All of Population is Starving).

----------------------------------------------------------

Relations[4]​

The Mag'har: Exalted
(Ogre) Boulderfist Clan: Hostile
(Ogre) Warmaul Clan: Neutral +
(Draenei) Velenic Draenei: Honored -
(Draenei/Broken) Dreghood Tribe: Neutral
(Sporeling) Sporeggar: Friendly
(Demon) Burning Legion/(Various) Shadow Council/(Orcs) Kargath's Horde: Hated
(Various) Sons of Lothar: Unfriendly
(Dragon) Netherwing Dragonflight: Neutral
(Giant) Fungal Giants of Zangarmarsh: Neutral +

​

 

[torroar]

1 Year After The Destruction of Draenor (Hereafter referred to as AA for After Apocalypse)

Turn 1​

You are quite possible the youngest chieftain in history. You are the Chieftain of the Blackrock, as there aren't really any others left and willing to challenge you for the position. But you are also the leader of so many more. In a possibly twisted manner you have heard them calling you the Warchief, much like the disturbing corrupted named the leader of their bestial Horde. You don't know if you are entirely comfortable with that, but it's simply what you'll have to deal with.

These are your thoughts as you gaze as the small training ring in a tucked away corner of the city you've lived in your whole life.

Garrosh morosely lets himself get hit squarely in the face by his sparring opponent before absentmindedly twisting his foes arm and dropping an elbow onto their throat. Despite all of his martial abilities, a legacy of his father no doubt, the fire within him seems to have gone entirely out. It is quite disconcerting to see, but there is little you can do for it now as you have much more pressing concerns.

Kargath has disappeared from Nagrand, and you despite your age you are not naïve enough to assume that he did you the favor of slaughtering those damned Boulderfist Ogres far to the northwest of here. You are also not naïve enough to assume that the destruction of your world killed them either. They are too big and dumb to probably even realize that the planet exploded.

Anyhow, the most pressing concern is one that is simultaneously one for joy: the red pox is fading!

Indeed, the sickness leaves the frame of at least a dozen orcs a day it seems. The wasted bodies are returning to full health, slackened muscles tightening after new usage. But it is here that the issue appears. You don't have enough food or housing to provide for all of your people. You can stack orcs up on beds and on floors and feed them a few bowls of broth when they are so heavily afflicted.

But twelve orc men and women who are healthy require a lot more meat and water. More exercise. More space. More…everything. You need to take care of this as soon as possible, as you are getting another dozen healthy every day. Soon enough Garadar won't be able to provide for them. After all it was constructed as essentially a giant meditation and healing center, not a full on settlement, not at all.

All of these new responsibilities quail in the overall big picture. You hold the lives of the Mag'har, of the orcs, perhaps even the destiny and future of your whole race, in your hands.

You will not fail them.

You are Dranosh Saurfang. Warchief of the Mag'har. In a world gone mad, you are their leader and protector. Let what may come, come.

You will not fail them.

Military: Garrosh is largely listless these days but he's still an orc first and foremost. Even at his most mopey he is one of your better fighters. In this new world, you'll take what you can get. (Choose 2):

Hunting Parties - Clefthoof: For generations orcs hunted the massive clefthoof for their abundance of meat and hide. With the various clans dead, corrupted, or simply gone, their numbers have exploded. Garrosh wants to send out your warriors to begin hunting these mighty beasts down for the many benefits they provide. Not to mention the general experience that would be gained. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Hunting Income +500 Per turn.

Hunting Parties – Elekk: The powerful horned elekk are not always quite so large as the clefthoof, but they make up for it in their valuable ivory and bones. Not as large as clefthoof bones, elekk materials are much better for precise tasks. Ten out of ten times will your archers desire elekk bone arrowheads over clefthoof bone arrowheads. Not to mention the meat and hides that will provide for your people. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Hunting Income +500 per turn.

Scouting North: The north of Nagrand is your more immediate neighbor, and after the general upheaval of your world you can't trust anything at all about what's been happening or might have already happened. You remember that there were a few settlements in the north of Nagrand, but you have nothing confirmed. Enough orcs are now able to walk instead of hobble and wail under the auspices of the red pox to scout it out. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Northern Nagrand surveyed for stuff.

Scouting South: The south of Nagrand is expansive, considering that you are part of the north. It encapsulates a lot of land that you know little about. Jorin did lead his clan away from far south east, but that was a year ago, so who knows what has changed since? It will take longer for your scouts to fully complete this job, but the information should and will most certainly be worth it. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Southern Nagrand surveyed for stuff.

Diplomacy: If there's anything that Greatmother Geyah has taught you, is that not all things can be conquered by a warriors strength. It was with words that the first shamans parlayed with the Furies, the sentient elementals of Draenor. It will be with words that you accomplish more than just a good axe. (Choose 1):

Rule of Strength: The Mag'har obstentially accept you as their leader, though mostly because Greatmother Geyah approves of you. That won't do, not at all. One of the best ways to truly prove your strength and worthiness is to beat the absolute hell out of those who scoff behind your back at such a whelp trying to lead. You are Saurfang, damn it. You are strength. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Boosts to Mag'har reputation.

Internal Politics: Greatmother Geyah has requested for you to speak to her. Though you are technically Warchief of the Mag'har, you don't really know everyone who makes up those you lead. She has offered to instruct you in these things, so that you can get a better internal survey of your own people. It would be good for knowing such things in the future in case of culture clash, especially now that it seems the blasted red pox is finally letting up. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Internal Survey of Mag'har composition, feeling, beliefs, etc.

Stewardship: Garadar simply cannot hold all of these people. Your supplies strain already, and as more and more orcs grow healthy once more the amount of food and housing required will far eclipse what the small city can hold. This must be attended to, and quickly. (Choose 2):

Sunspring Lake: A rather daring move, but one you think has merit. You have often fished and walked round Sunspring Lake to the south and west of Garadar. It is here that many of the youth afflicted with the red pox were allowed to exercise and play. It has bountiful fish, fresh water, and is in a good place to set up as a location to funnel the energetic and youthful alike as orcs return to health. Why not build a small new settlement, to ease the growing pressures? Cost: 1000. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Sunspring Village set up, population valve for orcs who grow healthy again. +500 Fishing Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies.

Boar Farms: Ah, boar meat. Delicious indeed, and a relatively staple food source for your people. Jorin believes that he and some of his extra fearless Bleeding Hollow could confront the horrendously vicious and brutish beasts and construct some holding pens for them. The boars don't have to like it, but so long as they can provide the bones, hides, and meat for your peoples usage then you have absolutely no problem with it. Cost: 500. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Small Boar Farms set up in Garadar, +500 Farming Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies.

Watch Towers: Kargath. Ogres. Demons. The Shadow Council wherever they may be. You need to build a few towers to keep watch over any approaching foes who may try and come up and attack you. Kargath and his band got disturbingly close before your sickly warriors were able to turn pus filled eyes upon him. Not again if you can help it. You'll have to use up a lot of clay and bones, but it should be worth it for any advanced warnings on Garadar. Cost: 1000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Small defensive watch towers built to guard Garadar. Bonus to defensive rolls. Bonus to seeing enemies on approach.

Learning: Not Unlocked Yet

Piety: The shamans despair. The orcs despair. The spirits of your ancestors do not speak. The Furies rage and roar with enough fury to crack the sinuses of any who attempt to speak with them. Their world has been torn from them, it is no wonder that the Furies are so, well, furious. Though you have so very many concerns, you have ordered that the shamans try and restore the connection that the bastard Gul'dan cut so gleefully in the now ravaged Shadowmoon Valley. Perhaps, in another time, you would be too busy with other concerns to deal with it, but your father left scrolls, and you have spoken to Greatmother Geyah a lot. Both have told you the same things. The orcs simply cannot survive as they should without the guidance of the ancestors, the spirits, and the help of the elements. [Every Turn the Shamans of the Mag'har will attempt to reconnect with the elements, this is what the upkeep is paying for. Beginning Chance of Success starts at 40%. Will go up 10% in chance every unsuccessful turn]

Intrigue: You aren't really sure if all the skulking about of the past is something you should have, but Jorin remains adamant that you need to keep an eye on such things. He seems to have appointed himself to this position. (Choose 1):

Follow That Chieftain: Kargath didn't just leave Garadar. He left Nagrand. Where on earth did he go? What is he up to? Will he turn around and slaughter you now? You cannot know these things, but Jorin has said he will provide some of the Bleeding Hollow to discretely keep track of them, at least for a nominal distance. You'll at least want to know where he left Nagrand to. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Kargath information. Chance of Success: 85%.

Shadow Council Checking: The damned Legion. The damned Shadow Council. You hate them both a good and healthy amount. But what really gets in your craw is how everyone seems to join up with them at some point. As in, there are orcs, Draenei, ogres, hell if those weird little spore things you heard tales of to the far north of here were a part of the Shadow Council you wouldn't be surprised. They are annoyingly good at infiltration and conversion. The world ended, sure, but you wouldn't even be close to amazed if they didn't have a few people slinking around these days…best check, Jorin says. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Information, potential Shadow Council scouts marked down.

Personal Actions: You used to have free time. Now you are responsible for tens of thousands of people's lives. It is an amazingly heavy burden, but your back and legs are pretty strong and you aren't about to give up. But you can still make some time for yourself. (Choose 1):

Wisdom of Saurfang: Your father knew he would probably be dead by the time you grew up. That he might never return from beyond the Dark Portal. But that's ok, because even if he is he inscribed dozens of scrolls for you on fine vellum. His gruff and frank words are still tinged with loving affection and fatherly pride, even though he probably only ever saw your sleeping face as a baby before passing you to the elders of Garadar. He left behind the words that he knew he would probably never get to say. It is a great comfort to you to read them, and often you find a hidden nugget of wisdom in them every time you read them. Time: 1 Year. Reward: +1 to random stat.

Hellscream, Hellsad: Garrosh spoke to Greatmother Geyah earlier, and left her home a broken man. What was said to break the normally energetic and rambunctious young man who is a few years your elder? You know of your own father, and plenty besides, but your precise knowledge of the one known as Grommash Hellscream is not very expansive. You should speak with the Greatmother about this, if only to know if there is anything you can say to your acquaintance. Reward: Knowledge of Grommash Hellscream, other information that might make you sad/mad at your father.

Prove Yourself: In order to prove yourself to your now subordinates, you need to do something impressive. Preferably a whole lot of impressive things. You have your axe, made of good Blackrock steel. You have your wits, and your strength. Go out hunting this year. Provide meat and hide and supplies for your people. Gain experience at hunting and leading, as well as personally assist the sick and the injured. Time: 1 Year. Reward: 500 Gold Income. 75% Chance to gain Trait: Hunter. Boost to Mag'har reputation.

 

[torroar]

if something is wrong on this...well, you know why. I have fever and blegh filling my veins.

1 AA
Turn 1 Results​

Military: Garrosh is largely listless these days but he's still an orc first and foremost. Even at his most mopey he is one of your better fighters. In this new world, you'll take what you can get. (Choose 2):

Hunting Parties - Clefthoof: For generations orcs hunted the massive clefthoof for their abundance of meat and hide. With the various clans dead, corrupted, or simply gone, their numbers have exploded. Garrosh wants to send out your warriors to begin hunting these mighty beasts down for the many benefits they provide. Not to mention the general experience that would be gained. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Hunting Income +500 Per turn.

- Clefthoof are docile for the most part, it is only when the herd is threatened do the multi-ton masses of bone and muscle get riled up. Strong enough to knock down thick stone walls, apparently some few enterprising orcs far back in the past had used them as beasts of war. Not so much these days, and you don't have the manpower, time, or resources to dedicate to that sort of thing. On the other hand, their teeth are big enough to be carved into plates. Your warriors enjoy stretching their legs, hunting the beasts through the grasslands. Your people are thankful for the meat and hide far more. Reward: Hunting Income +500 Per turn.

Scouting North: The north of Nagrand is your more immediate neighbor, and after the general upheaval of your world you can't trust anything at all about what's been happening or might have already happened. You remember that there were a few settlements in the north of Nagrand, but you have nothing confirmed. Enough orcs are now able to walk instead of hobble and wail under the auspices of the red pox to scout it out. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Northern Nagrand surveyed for stuff.

- Your scouts return quite late in the year. Northern Nagrand is where Garadar is, so it is no surprise that they are more familiar with the land. On the other hand, the 'land' as you knew it has suffered a massive upheaval. It is almost as if Nagrand has become…squished…for lack of a better word. Hillocks are now small mountains, cliff faces are now piles of rock, and much of the grasslands farther out have been burnt and scalded by the ruinous effects of the apocalypse. You can only hope that as the years pass on Nagrand will heal itself. But that is not what burns at your heart and soul.

Draenor…is gone.

Your scouts traveled…to the edge of the world. And it is an edge. After a certain point, where Nagrand's shores were meant to kiss the sea, there is simply nothing. A drop off into the Twisting Nether. Your world, your planet…is gone.

The people weep as they hear the words. You weep as well. But that is not all the news they bring. The Laughing Skulls, those strange and somewhat insane orcs who became known to the Horde for their assassins and poisoners, used to possess a settlement around the near edge of the Zangar Sea. But things have changed, it seems.

For one, the Zangar Sea isn't a sea anymore. It's a gigantic and terrifyingly dark marsh that your warriors did not dare enter. Second, the Laughing Skull village to Garadar's west is still quite inhabited. Your scouts have the scars to prove it. Apparently the apocalypse has cracked the thin shell of sanity off of the Laughing Skulls nut of a brain. Their state is deplorable, and quite depressing, even for corrupted.

You asked Greatmother Geyah and learned of the sad state of the Laughing Skulls before the apocalypse. A proud and relatively powerful orcish clan, they had once lived in Gorgrond. But as the Horde ascended into power and the Laughing Skulls refused to join outright, they began to suffer.

Whether by fel magics, hidden assaults from the Shadow Council, or otherwise; the truth of what was done to them is lost to time, but the result is known. Their leader, Kaz the Shrieker, dead. Their clan warped into barbarism after being under such extreme pressure. Their leader the known and extremely treacherous Mogor the Ogre. Then they were forged into bloodthirsty savages.

Mogor still leads them, it seems, if his annoyingly loud baying was anything to go by as your scouts got a little too close. He furiously works the Laughing Skulls, pushing them back and forth as if they were simple peons. It enrages your heart that even now the ogre treats them like disposable trash. Do they not know that Ner'zhul and Gul'dan are dead? That the ones who installed the ogre to keep control over them is dead?

You will deal with this, and soon. Especially once Jorin posited something quite disturbing. He pondered the scouts reports and said something that chilled your bones. Kargath Bladefist was once a slave of the ogres. He is likely even now still searching for warriors to fight against the so called 'Alliance', who as of yet you still have not seen. Is it possible that he might desire to…'liberate' the Laughing Skulls so that they might join his tattered remnants of the Horde?

The news, of course, gets worse. You have another fat problem. Your fears were correct, the Boulderfist did not die in the apocalypse. In fact, bereft of natural predators, i.e. you, and the rest of the world in turmoil, they have claimed the totality of the north western hills and caverns in their big stupid meaty fists. They also didn't see your scouts, but that's more probably because they're ogres. The Boulderfist, led by Krol, are the ogres who first allied with the orcish Horde at the behest of Doomhammer who had approached them on behest of Blackhand.

You…don't really like them. Your people had been enemies beforehand, and only the threat of Blackhand had kept them in line. Now that the 'Horde' such as it was has been destroyed for the most part, it is painfully likely that they will turn on you, and quite soon. You'll have to decide what to do to them before they eventually muddle through their little pebble sized brains and attack you.

All in all, very disheartening. At least the great lake which provides Garadar's fresh water remains clean and pure. Reward: Scouting Complete.

Diplomacy: If there's anything that Greatmother Geyah has taught you, is that not all things can be conquered by a warriors strength. It was with words that the first shamans parlayed with the Furies, the sentient elementals of Draenor. It will be with words that you accomplish more than just a good axe. (Choose 1):

Internal Politics: Greatmother Geyah has requested for you to speak to her. Though you are technically Warchief of the Mag'har, you don't really know everyone who makes up those you lead. She has offered to instruct you in these things, so that you can get a better internal survey of your own people. It would be good for knowing such things in the future in case of culture clash, especially now that it seems the blasted red pox is finally letting up. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Internal Survey of Mag'har composition, feeling, beliefs, etc.

- You ask Greatmother Geyah for her counsel, and she gives it freely, albeit feebly. You cannot stand the sight of her laying upon the bed, coughing so wetly. Alas, that is the fate of all who suffer the red pox. You either live…or you die. But until that final result is reached the constant state of those who are infected it to lay there, utterly incapable of controlling their own fate until chance decides whether or not they shall ever stand again.

There are many who make up the Mag'har. Many from the greater clans, and many from the lesser clans. When one thinks of the Horde, they think of the greats. Blackrock. Warsong. Bleeding Hollow. Shattered Hand. Oh, and who could forget the Burning Blade. But there are others as well, and only now does the full enormity of the various cultures smashing together into Garadar become apparent to you. In sickness you are all equal. In health? You'll probably have a few problems.

First are the Blackrock, those most numerous and the best crafters. The forgers, those who provided the weaponry to the Horde even as they led the majority of the charge in both the First and Second Wars. Technically the clan you are a part of, and thus those are the orcs who support you the most. Your uniquely darker brown skin than your fellow orcs marks you out, as does the legacies of the Saurfang. Out of all the Mag'har, these will support you the most, but even now your supreme youth keeps them wary and a bit contemptuous. To others they will stand up and laud your strength and prowess, for you are Blackrock! But in private…they speak of the youth who has so pridefully decided he should lead. Even now they make up the largest individual clan 'faction' in the Mag'har.

Second, are the Warsong. Led not solely by Garrosh but as well as some of the Warsong Elders. Previously when Garrosh was more…well, Garrosh, the Elders remained quiet and satisfied with his command. But recently they have begun overriding him or going around him, all to lead them. The famous Warsong are fantastic raiders and fighters, and well known foes of the ogres due to what was done to the famous Grommash. Not so good at actually building sustained settlements, they are used to going out and taking what they need, albeit respectfully from the land and viciously from their foes. They will get a bit stir crazy soon enough if something is not done in the next fear years as more and more of their number return to full health. They are fully contemptuous of your rule. You have not proved anything to them. You have not fought a true foe, and your strike against Kargath was clearly a fluke.

Third, are the Bleeding Hollow. They are not crafters, not raiders, not anything really. They are used to simply overwhelming their foes in a tide of blood and what some would call ludicrous amounts of fearlessness. You know of the ritual that Jorin undertook to become chieftain, and as such his rule is completely unquestionable at the moment. So much so, that the culture of the Bleeding Hollow has developed to follow whatever their Chieftain says, not matter what. He fears nothing, and if he fears nothing, then they fear nothing. How could they? He say support you, and they support you. The Bleeding Hollow are one hundred percent behind you because Jorin told them to do so. Which is nice, but you don't really have their loyalty. You have Jorin's. Thank goodness he is your friend.

The Shattered Hand are all behind Kargath, and any who suffered from the red pox were culled for their weakness despite the fact that there is no known cure and how red pox can simply appear in a population.

Fourth, are the Frostwolves, the clan from which Greatmother Geyah is from. They don't support anyone at the moment. If the Shadowmoon were the most pious, and they're all dead as far as you know, then the Frostwolves would have been the second most pious. Beyond all other orcs, they believed in self-control, lest they loose the raging beast within. You did not know of the Blood Rage until you spoke to Mother Geyah, and now you are frankly scared of it. To fight and fight, to kill all that moved, to be utterly incapable of controlling yourself in a haze of red? It offends your warrior's sensibilities. You are not a mindless killer, you are a controlled and crafty fighter! The tragic tale of Durotan and his mother, when he fell to the rage and slaughtered his mother's beloved companion speaks to you on a deep level. But more importantly, they are broken as a people. The shamans of the orcs all followed Gul'dan in accepting the cut. Which, Geyah states, was a profound and indescribable pain, yet lasted all of an instant. Even those far away, like her, felt it, for the vast majority of the shamans of the orcish race had accepted it, and in doing so had doomed their compatriots who had not. The elements, the Furies, they raged and lambasted, and are now so furious at all orcs for what was done to Draenor that it is amazing that those who are trying to reconnect with them have not yet had their heads explode with the rage of the elements. With Geyah supporting you, they probably do so as well on paper. However, in person they are listless. It is as if they are dead orcs walking. It is disturbing. Hopefully the shamans can placate the Furies at some point soon.

Various other clans make up the Mag'har, you believe there might even be a few Laughing Skulls in there somewhere, but others like the Redwalker disappeared just before the Alliance invaded Draenor due to their continued defiance against the Horde. Some of those who had been training to become shamans are even from the Lightning's Blade clan. But there are two other clans, two who are actually noticeable. Even if you rather wish they weren't.

The Shadowmoon still walk amongst the orcs. Very few like them. Very…very few. Ner'zhul is the one who tore your world apart. With the knowledge that the world is actually destroyed entirely and that you are now floating in the void, and that it is him and his Shadowmoon who did it makes for very poor living conditions for the Shadowmoon orcs. They say he took his most loyal with him. That was most of them. Still, enough remain. The rest seem to have completely dedicated themselves to trying to reconnect to the spirits. It is all they seem to be allowed to do, as the rest of the Mag'har try to more often than not refuse them jobs, to keep them as far away as possible. You can respect the peoples anger, but you must all stand together as orcs now, even the Shadowmoon.

Then…there are the Burning Blade. The most destructive and powerful clan, as in physically powerful. Though they are small in number, their power and skill on the battlefield was absolutely incomparable. Very few of them remain, and only one single member of the Burning Blade was afflicted with the red pox. However, based on their equipment which they refused to part with before falling into a coma, they were that most rare of things: a Blademaster. Should they wake up, and choose to remain with the Mag'har, then they would be an incredible force multiplier on the field. On the other hand, one thing truly marks them.

The whole of their left arm is the green of the corrupted. What this means…you do not know. But in the greater picture, many things have been made clear.

You have the true loyalty of three orcs: Garrosh, Jorin, and Greatmother Geyah.

Everyone else? Not so much, it seems. This is something to be greatly concerned about. Reward: Loyalty Survey Complete.

Stewardship: Garadar simply cannot hold all of these people. Your supplies strain already, and as more and more orcs grow healthy once more the amount of food and housing required will far eclipse what the small city can hold. This must be attended to, and quickly. (Choose 2):

Sunspring Lake: A rather daring move, but one you think has merit. You have often fished and walked round Sunspring Lake to the south and west of Garadar. It is here that many of the youth afflicted with the red pox were allowed to exercise and play. It has bountiful fish, fresh water, and is in a good place to set up as a location to funnel the energetic and youthful alike as orcs return to health. Why not build a small new settlement, to ease the growing pressures? Cost: 1000. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Sunspring Village set up, population valve for orcs who grow healthy again. +500 Fishing Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies.

- Hunting for Clefthoof proved to be a wise decision this year. With their mighty bones and hides a small village has been formed next to Sunspring Lake. It has been named, rather uninspiringly it seems, Sunspring Village. It is here that those who have made it through the crucible of the red pox travel to. Here they have space to walk, to laugh, to dance, and more often than not to weep. The state of the world weighs heavily on all. Regardless, the small village is made from vast carved rib cages and enormous spines, with large cured hides draped back and forth to create homes. Based on your curing techniques and the climate of Nagrand which hopefully has not changed too much even in the face of the apocalypse, the housing will last for a good five years or so without needing to be replaced or refurbished. Plenty of time to get together resources for a more permanent settlement. The fish they send back to Garadar is also very welcome. Reward: Sunspring Village set up, population valve for orcs who grow healthy again. +500 Fishing Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies.

Watch Towers: Kargath. Ogres. Demons. The Shadow Council wherever they may be. You need to build a few towers to keep watch over any approaching foes who may try and come up and attack you. Kargath and his band got disturbingly close before your sickly warriors were able to turn pus filled eyes upon him. Not again if you can help it. You'll have to use up a lot of clay and bones, but it should be worth it for any advanced warnings on Garadar. Cost: 1000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Small defensive watch towers built to guard Garadar. Bonus to defensive rolls. Bonus to seeing enemies on approach.

- Large Clefthoof spines go up, bound together with tight and hard cord. Next to begin putting up steps and other such things to transform it into an actual structure. Will Complete Next Year.

Learning: Not Unlocked Yet

Piety: The shamans despair. The orcs despair. The spirits of your ancestors do not speak. The Furies rage and roar with enough fury to crack the sinuses of any who attempt to speak with them. Their world has been torn from them, it is no wonder that the Furies are so, well, furious. Though you have so very many concerns, you have ordered that the shamans try and restore the connection that the bastard Gul'dan cut so gleefully in the now ravaged Shadowmoon Valley. Perhaps, in another time, you would be too busy with other concerns to deal with it, but your father left scrolls, and you have spoken to Greatmother Geyah a lot. Both have told you the same things. The orcs simply cannot survive as they should without the guidance of the ancestors, the spirits, and the help of the elements. [Every Turn the Shamans of the Mag'har will attempt to reconnect with the elements, this is what the upkeep is paying for. Beginning Chance of Success starts at 40%. Will go up 10% in chance every unsuccessful turn]

- Required: 60. Rolled: 43. Those who were once shamans, once farseers, once anyone with a true connection to the spirits at all, head across the enormous lake which separates you from the Throne of Elements. It was there that the orcs first communed with the elements, the Furies of Draenor. Before…all of this, it was a beautiful and tranquil place. No longer, they tell you. Though the mighty pillars erected and shaped by the elements are still present…there are no elementals with which to speak. Here, they may manifest freely. But…they do not. Instead, as your shamans set foot on the shore, many were struck instantly back across the water as if from an enormous gust of wind for hundreds of feet, nearly killing many. Others screamed as they were struck by fevers and flesh which began to char. Still others simply collapsed, blood, that precious liquid, bubbling out of their eyes, nose, and ears. The very ground itself somehow communicated a rage and fury and pain so brutal that is shattered the minds of some of those who had gone to the Throne. All retreated. In a process of a single minute, you lost over a hundred orcs to babbling, comas, or simply shutting down completely.

The world of Draenor was destroyed. The elements were intrinsic parts of them, and if your scouts are truthful, which they are, a bare scant of the planet Draenor once was…is all that remains. You find yourself looking down at your hands. If all that was left of you was a bare fragment, would you too not be driven essentially to madness with pain?

The orcs weep and wail at the loss of their world. The elements were the world. Its bones, its breath, its energy, its blood… and they were nearly killed by the foolishness of your people. It's a wonder they did not kill those who traveled to the Throne entirely.

But some remain unbowed. They will apologize to the Furies, even if they have to nearly kill themselves to do it. One of them, a middle aged former Farseer of the Lightning Blade's Clan tells you so. He states that the initiation ritual to adulthood for his former and essentially defunct clan was to travel to the top of the mountains during a storm and that only after being struck three times could they continue on the path to adulthood. To him, such punishment by the vengeful elements is par for the course.

Perhaps, years and years from now, the elements might have calmed on their own. But you simply do not have the time for that. They will speak to you, if only so the orcs can throw themselves at the feet of the Furies in apology and beg for mercy.

Hell, you'll be first in line if it means you can repair what the bastards Gul'dan and Ner'zhul did.

Failure: Elements in throes of appropriately world-shattering anger.

Intrigue: You aren't really sure if all the skulking about of the past is something you should have, but Jorin remains adamant that you need to keep an eye on such things. He seems to have appointed himself to this position. (Choose 1):

Shadow Council Checking: The damned Legion. The damned Shadow Council. You hate them both a good and healthy amount. But what really gets in your craw is how everyone seems to join up with them at some point. As in, there are orcs, Draenei, ogres, hell if those weird little spore things you heard tales of to the far north of here were a part of the Shadow Council you wouldn't be surprised. They are annoyingly good at infiltration and conversion. The world ended, sure, but you wouldn't even be close to amazed if they didn't have a few people slinking around these days…best check, Jorin says. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Information, potential Shadow Council scouts marked down.

- Jorin's one eyed gaze is chilling, and he makes sure to use it on any who he needs to. He investigates, and hunts, and at one point calls together some of his Bleeding Hollow hunters and disappears into the night. He comes back with something that enrages you, and many of the other Mag'har as well. Unexpectedly, quietly, and quite suddenly, he appears in the middle of the camp bearing a bundle of heads.

Orc heads.

Orc heads with disgusting tattoos that glow with fel green magics. Shadow Council. They were just scouts, he tells you, screeping out of the murky depths of what was once Teledor. Your name, Dranosh, means heart of Draenor. But Teledor? Teledor was the heart of Draenor. A crossroads, a forest, all and more. It has been, just like everything it seems, changed by the apocalypse. You don't know where these Shadow Council affiliated orcs came from besides what Teledor has become, but you do know their destination.

Jorin can read their disgusting demonic script, a skill he learned just for such occasions as this. You know now what the Shadow Council will be interested in inside Nagrand. They have set up a small fortress and base under a banner you do not recognize. According to the notes, these orcs are from the Kil'Sorrow Clan. You've never heard of them, but you have heard of what their target is:

Oshu'gun. What used to be the most holy site in orcish culture before Gul'dan and Ner'zhul…changed everything.

Why was the Shadow Council trying to get to Oshu'gun? You don't know, but the idea of them getting their disgusting world-ruined paws on it sets your blood to boiling. The world ended! Why can't they just have died along with it!?!

But something else catches Jorin's attentions, which he brings up to you. The note from the Shadow Council affiliates hands makes mention of 'Our Lords Barrier shall not protest our passage'.

…what barrier? Around Oshu'gun? And a fortress of the Shadow Council already set up in the south of Nagrand?

This requires immediate attention.

Reward: Preliminary Shadow Council efforts into Nagrand pushed back. 'Barrier' around Oshu'gun?

Personal Actions: You used to have free time. Now you are responsible for tens of thousands of people's lives. It is an amazingly heavy burden, but your back and legs are pretty strong and you aren't about to give up. But you can still make some time for yourself. (Choose 1):

Hellscream, Hellsad: Garrosh spoke to Greatmother Geyah earlier, and left her home a broken man. What was said to break the normally energetic and rambunctious young man who is a few years your elder? You know of your own father, and plenty besides, but your precise knowledge of the one known as Grommash Hellscream is not very expansive. You should speak with the Greatmother about this, if only to know if there is anything you can say to your acquaintance. Reward: Knowledge of Grommash Hellscream, other information that might make you sad/mad at your father.

- You wake up surrounded by the dead, and your body aching. For a few moments, you stare in confusion at the night sky, watching the contrails of pure energy ripple back and forth in the mysteries of the Twisting Nether which lay before you. You've never felt as tired as you do right now, every single muscle you knew and didn't know you had throbbing dully. You also have no idea who you are.

Wait…yes you do.

As you lay there, the dark 'night' of whatever it is Draenor has become cloaking your body and the soft grasses of Nagrand providing your bed, the memories come rushing back.

It hurts to snarl but your mouth does its best anyway.

It had started so simply. Asking Greatmother Geyah of why Garrosh had turned so utterly despondent. You had figured that another one of her sharp little comments about his fighting abilities or some other sort of strange probing blow that old people loved to lob at the youth which surrounded them. You had been wrong. So…horribly wrong.

She had told you the truth of the monstrous Grommash. Of…of all of it. That bastard is the first who drank the blood of the demons, who turned the vast majority of your people into complete and utter beasts! Your blood had run hot, and only for a moment you had blacked out before a hard slap from the Greatmother had brought you to your senses.

The bloodrage had nearly taken you in that moment, as it had taken so many. What you had initially assumed would be a short conversation had her reveal the secrets of your own race, a secret that your…that the other Saurfang had not left behind in his scrolls. The bloodrage, the raging and mindless monster that lived within all orcs.

The truth of the demons. Of Mannoroth. You had assumed you knew…but how little in truth did you know! Blackhand had not been first, and so part of your pride in the Blackrock remained, only for Geyah to tear it down. To tear…you down. To tell you of what Varok Saurfang was.

"You are lying!" you roar, finally coming to your feet.

Your hands tighten, knuckles turning white even as blood drips from both palms as nails drive deep. Every bone in your body seems to vibrate with fury and disgust at what she tells you. It has to be a lie. He would not…not the one who wrote to you with such kind and gruff words. Not him.

Slaughtering…children. No. No!

But Greatmother Geyah looks at you with those old and sad eyes…and you know her to be speaking the truth. But it hurts. Oh by the ancestors and the Furies it hurts!

When the shamans explained the pain of the Furies, the elements of Draenor, you had thought that to be a state of rage incomparable by any mere mortal. Perhaps…you were wrong. Because now, now you are running even as Greatmother Geyah calls out for you from her home.

You are sprinting, chest heaving like the forges bellows that your Blackrock brethren even now work at. Oh ancestors, there's another thought. Do they know? Of Blackhand and Grommash, and all the others!?!

Traitors! TRAITORS ALL OF THEM! To the ancestors, to the Furies, to you to your people to their families and sons all for power and conquest and blood and NONE of it was worth it!

Draenor destroyed, a massacred people who did not deserve what your bastard race had done to them.

You are not even in Garadar anymore, so fast have you run. You wear nothing but normal comfortable clothes, a small stone knife your only companion. You had left the axe behind because why would you carry it into Greatmother Geyah's home? The axe he had left you….raaaagh!

Bellowing, roaring, screaming, crying, sobbing, you storm into Nagrand. You pass through a herd of giant clefthoof, of birds, of elekk, of every other animal on Nagrand, even as you charge forward again and again. Your bare feet begin to grow sore as you continue to run, the wind whistling in your ears.

But you don't hear any words from it, you are no shaman. You hear no voices from the ancestors, and why would you?! You turned away from them, slaughtered the innocent Draenei for no reason other than because Ner'zhul and Gul'dan told your people to!

You keep running, words suddenly entering your mind, unbidden.

Honor.

Duty.

Glory.

Mercy.

Entire scrolls dedicated to these words, given to you by the green skinned monster you had once called father. When did he write them?! The ink was faded, was it even ink, or was it blood drained from an innocents body?!

You've kept running, and all of a sudden you see a small party of orcs. Not Mag'har, no, not based on their horrific green skin and demonic tattoos. They are heading west, just as you are, and though you have no idea what the hell your destination is you probably know theirs based on Jorin's report.

It's too much.

The betrayal of the orcs, against their own people and the world that born them. The betrayal of Garrosh's father. Of your father, of all your fathers. Did Jorin know? Was that why he was so cold and dismissive when you bleated out platitudes written out by a mass-murderer? Betrayal and monsters, monsters and betrayal.

You were named Dranosh. It meant the Heart of Draenor.

Your heart has broken.

You see the orcs, and are they the true orcs now, because there are so many of them left and so few Mag'har? You cannot say, you cannot say and it hurts to know that you are the son of a monster, that the Blackrock are monsters, that orcs are monsters. What did Greatmother Geyah seek to accomplish when she told you these things? That you could change, return to peaceful ways if only the spirits would speak to you again? If you made sure to never court demons again?

But the Blackrock would never do that. It is not their culture. Nor would the Frostwolves, or anyone else. The orcs are not a race, they are too broken apart into cultural alliances. Even now, what binds the Mag'har is not strength or fellowship, but a damned disease. Different beliefs and cultures smashed together by outside forces.

Just like the Horde.

What…are you?

It's too much.

The Shadow Council orcs open their mouths, some of their hands glow with purple and fel green light. You have a simple stone knife, and no armor.

For a moment, your mind was separate from your body, and you observed the scene. A single brown orc, with a single stone knife, with no clothes but loose linen pants. At least twenty green orcs, many wielding wicked metal blades, daggers, axes, swords. Some are dressed in thick and powerful armor, others in delicate and rich silks and cloth.

What…are you? What measures the manner of an orc? Personal honor? What honor? The honor espoused to you by a green creature you had once thought of as father?

It is too much.

Red cascades and fills your vision, and the bloodrage takes you.

Bloodrage takes the youngest Saurfang, and finally, blessedly, quiets his tortured mind.

Your tortured mind.

--------------------------
​

You wake up surrounded by the dead, with every part of your body aching.

You remember everything up until that final point.

One single thought pushes its way to the front of the swirling uncertain cauldron that has become your mind.

At least you know why Garrosh has been so down lately.

Then, through the blackened sludge of horror and disgust for the creatures that call themselves orcs of the 'Horde', a red pulse of anger comes to the forefront. If the monster known as Varok Saurfang was ever truly your father, then you could at least honor that last strip of existence that has no doubt by now been drowned in the blood of innocents.

Honor.

Duty.

Glory.

Mercy.

That is the Saurfang way. And if it turns out that you are the only one to follow these tenets…fine. You'll be the Saurfang that they were meant to be.

Reward:…..uh. Information on why Garrosh is sad? Revelations on why the Horde is…the Horde? Anger and eternal hatred for demons? Fury at Varok Saurfang?....stuff. Reward = stuff.

 

[torroar]

2 AA
Turn 2
​

It mocks you, now.

The axe that you used to break Kargath's weapon. The axe left to you by the corrupted who you once called father. Varok. You are quite sure at the moment that you would rather prefer not call him by the family name.

Though it once gleamed proudly atop your bed, you cast it into the dirt long ago. It had given you false pride, given out over ignorance and foolishness, but no longer. The once well-polished and maintained edge finally matches how you feel about it, as it lies there in the dirty mud and grass outside of your house. Grime colors the metal and leather wrapping. The axe had come to you by…his…hands. What blood had stained it beforehand?

Whose?

You cannot know. As such, you leave it where it is, in the dirt, not forgotten, but a constant and daily reminder of what you had once thought of as your so called noble people.

On some level part of you protests your sudden hatred for your own race. But then the rest of you rises up in equal fury. Over ninety percent of the orcish people had willingly become the Horde. Few of the clans who had refused to heed the call of Ner'zhul and Gul'dan had even a small chance of being alive right now, as far as Greatmother Geyah can remember. The Mok'Nathal and the Redwalkers. The Mok'Nathal, due to their hybrid strength and well camouflaged hideaway in the mountains far to the northeast of here…if a northeast of here even existed.

But the Redwalker had been almost completely obliterated, and very few of their kind remained as wandering savages. And that had been before the Apocalypse.

Savages.

Was that not what the orcs had become? What you were? What did it say that what had saved the Mag'har had not been strength but imminent weakness? Disease had struck you all down and kept your heads beneath the covers, filled your blood with disease, all the while outside of Garadar the orcs had turned into monsters. It had been the strong who had accepted the 'gift' of the demons. The strong who had massacred the Draenei undeservedly.

By the ancestors. The Draenei. What can you say about that…horrific series of events?

You've thought about this for a long time, actually. Rarely do you sleep anymore. It reminds you of your previously complacency. You did not quite throw out the scrolls that…he…had left you, but you had nearly done so. But what to do? How can you apologize for the genocide of a race? Are there even any Draenei left? What could you do even if there was? Throw yourself at their feet, and hope that their vengeance would be swift rather than drawn out as they probably rather deserve?

What about the Alliance? Not satisfied simply to sunder your world and the soul of the orcish people, the Horde had decided to travel to another innocent world and ravage it. Bile rises up in your throat to imagine it. The first, and probably only impression of what twisted mockeries your people had become that this Alliance had ever tasted was at the tender mercies of madmen such as Blackhand and Kargath.

Once upon a time you had thought of these powerful Chieftains as heroes of the orcish race. What a young fool you were then.

The orcs have no heroes, not now. Not from those who formed the Horde. An entire world had unified to face the Horde, such was the terror and disgusting acts that the orcs had done unto them. Orcs, something called trolls which you had never actually seen…and….the ogres.

What of the ogres? The Boulderfist were the first to ally with the Horde, under the threat of Blackhand. They would never have done so otherwise, and with him most certainly gone, who truly knows what they will do. Will they approach you as allies, or see you as weak and diseased which to be fair to the Mag'har the majority of you are? You don't want the Boulderfist as allies. They are a painful and brutish and awful reminder of Blackhand, of Varok, of the rest of what the Blackrock had descended into had become. But what to do about them…

Well.

You do know what to do about one ogre.

Mogor. The name itself brings a snarl to your lips, and cuts through the despondent fog of self-loathing that pours forth from your very soul at the moment. Not so Garrosh, for he has fallen to deeper depths than you, rarely rising unless to keep his skills up at the bare minimum. Already the worthiness of your 'rule' is failing as one of your core supporters falls into complete depression and the other, Greatmother Geyah, remains sick still. Only Jorin's quiet support buoys you these days.

But more to the point, the Laughing Skulls. They…are…ugh…corrupted. Their skin is bright and green and horrific and it brings to mind phantom scenes of the murder of innocent women and children that the Horde must have perpetrated on so many. But they didn't start that way. Greatmother Geyah, essentially the only one you can trust besides Garrosh and Jorin, told you their sordid tale in more detail once you had dragged yourself back from the site of what would have been your death save for the bloodrage.

They did not join the Horde. Not...willingly. They were too proud. Too proud of their own culture and ways of joyous life. The Laughing Skulls. Devastating warriors, undeniably skilled, but not murderers. They had very clear codes of conduct in battle, one of which was never to strike the unarmed. They gained their names from their constant laughter, in battle, in grief, in daily life. For the sake of the ancestors they had gained a small reputation as jokesters, as comedians in personality, as wild and rambunctious fellows. So when the Horde called…of course they had said no. they were perfectly fine where they were.

But…Gul'dan had needed more bodies. Ner'zhul had needed more bodies. Blackhand had needed more bodies. Your heart burns with rage at his name. The first two had destroyed and corrupted the souls of the orcish people, but Blackhand had been Chieftain of the Blackrock. He was who had pulled his clan along with him into damnation, no matter if they had done so willingly.

So they had sent Mogor. Mogor, who had taken control of the clan through manners unknown. Perhaps he mind controlled them? Or perhaps he had taken the position through a duel? Oh. Oh by whatever is listening if he had somehow gotten Kaz the Shrieker to commit to Mak'gora and then had twisted the proceedings….wait.

Mak'gora.

If someone were to force Mogor into Mak'gora…then…perhaps, the Laughing Skulls, whose culture and way of life and essentially very personality have been beaten beyond the dirt…might be able to return. You had grown up in Garadar, surrounded by the sick and the dying, and so you had long ago gained an intense sense of protectiveness for the Mag'har. But…the Laughing Skulls were not Mag'har.

But with Blackhand and all the others gone, they were not, or at least did not have to be…Horde.

This requires intense thought. If anything else, you have managed to avoid the almost lifeless fate of Garrosh who even now mopes about. You've turned your depression and self-hatred into energy. A galvanizing if painful sort of energy, but energy all the same. More must be done. Things will change. (+1 Personal Action)

You are Dranosh Saurfang, and by whatever honor your name ever possessed, you will see this through.

Military: Garrosh is largely listless these days but he's still an orc first and foremost. Even at his most mopey he is one of your better fighters. In this new world, you'll take what you can get. (Choose 2):

Hunting Parties - Windrocs: The vicious and feathered Rocs are the winged predator of the Nagrand plains. Deadly, fierce, and quick, they are a worthy animal to hunt. Their feathers are valuable in many rituals, especially those related to shamans, and their hollow bones are useful for making certain useful tools. Also, they are good eating. Even further, they are good training for your hunters and those who use ranged weapons. Good things all around, and it is better to diversify your food sources, isn't it? Time: 1 Year. Reward: +500 Hunting Income per turn.

Hunting Parties – Elekk: The powerful horned elekk are not always quite so large as the clefthoof, but they make up for it in their valuable ivory and bones. Not as large as clefthoof bones, elekk materials are much better for precise tasks. Ten out of ten times will your archers desire elekk bone arrowheads over clefthoof bone arrowheads. Not to mention the meat and hides that will provide for your people. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Hunting Income +500 per turn.

Scouting South: The south of Nagrand is expansive, considering that you are part of the north. It encapsulates a lot of land that you know little about. Jorin did lead his clan away from far south east, but that was a year ago, so who knows what has changed since? It will take longer for your scouts to fully complete this job, but the information should and will most certainly be worth it. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Southern Nagrand surveyed for stuff.

Diplomacy: If there's anything that Greatmother Geyah has taught you, is that not all things can be conquered by a warriors strength. It was with words that the first shamans parlayed with the Furies, the sentient elementals of Draenor. It will be with words that you accomplish more than just a good axe. (Choose 1):

Rule of Strength: The Mag'har ostensibly accept you as their leader, though mostly because Greatmother Geyah approves of you. That won't do, not at all. One of the best ways to truly prove your strength and worthiness is to beat the absolute hell out of those who scoff behind your back at such a whelp trying to lead. You are Saurfang, damn it. You are strength. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Boosts to Mag'har reputation.

Ugh…Boulderfist's?: You don't really like the Boulderfist. They are a reminder of many terrible things. On the other hand, ogres rarely get sick, and as far as you've been able to tell red pox doesn't pass from orcs to ogres. So they might see your supplies and general health and decide to attack you. Thankfully, Boulderfists are incredibly stupid and that goes for stupid even for ogres. The whole reason they got their name is because they had the 'brilliant' invention to put a rock in one hand and then use that rock to hit people with. No, they have not yet figured out throwing rocks. Now, it disgusts your warriors sensibilities, but you 'learned' those sensibilities from scrolls left behind by Varok and you are a bit peeved with him at the moment, so if you could convince them that they should stay allied with you because Blackhand was a Blackrock and you are a Blackrock, you might keep them if not friendly then at least non-antagonistic for a short time. Time: 1 Year Reward: Boulderfist don't do anything stupid….to the Mag'har. Their allowed to be stupid to one another. Chance of Success: 75%.

Blackrock Loyalty: The Blackrock follow you…because you are technically a Blackrock because of your family lines. Even if you currently despise those family lines with a passion. But you need them to be loyal to Dranosh Saurfang, not Dranosh the Blackrock. They need to know and trust that you will lead them well. On one hand, you hate Blackhand, Rend, Maim, and a lot of the other prominent Blackrocks. On the other, sort of the point of becoming a Chieftain is pushing and being better than the previous Chieftains. Well, you aren't a mass murdering monster, so you're doing a pretty good job on that front, but they need to know you will be better for the Blackrock as well. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Blackrock grow actually loyal to Dranosh rather than to the ties of the Blackrock. Chance for Success: 85%.

Stewardship: Garadar simply cannot hold all of these people. Your supplies strain already, and as more and more orcs grow healthy once more the amount of food and housing required will far eclipse what the small city can hold. This must be attended to, and quickly. (Choose 1, Watch Towers Locked In):

Talbuk Farms: The Talbuk are an ancestral animal for the orcs. You largely leave them alone for the simple fact that for many families in many clans, at least based in Nagrand, hunting them down is an adulthood ritual. On the other hand, the world has changed. The old ways were torn down, and honestly you don't know if you'll be able to put them all back up again or even if you should. A small measure towards that is to actually grab some Talbuks and starting to breed them. For food. For milk, for furs, for their other sundry parts. All of it is useful. All of it can be used for the benefit of your people. Cost: 500. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Small Talbuk Farms set up in Garadar. +500 Farming Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies. A single tiny step towards changing orcish culture.

Boar Farms: Ah, boar meat. Delicious indeed, and a relatively staple food source for your people. Jorin believes that he and some of his extra fearless Bleeding Hollow could confront the horrendously vicious and brutish beasts and construct some holding pens for them. The boars don't have to like it, but so long as they can provide the bones, hides, and meat for your peoples usage then you have absolutely no problem with it. Cost: 500. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Small Boar Farms set up in Garadar, +500 Farming Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies.

Watch Towers: Kargath. Ogres. Demons. The Shadow Council wherever they may be. You need to build a few towers to keep watch over any approaching foes who may try and come up and attack you. Kargath and his band got disturbingly close before your sickly warriors were able to turn pus filled eyes upon him. Not again if you can help it. You'll have to use up a lot of clay and bones, but it should be worth it for any advanced warnings on Garadar. Cost: 1000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Small defensive watch towers built to guard Garadar. Bonus to defensive rolls. Bonus to seeing enemies on approach. Will Complete This Year.

Learning: Not Unlocked Yet

Piety: The shamans despair. The orcs despair. The spirits of your ancestors do not speak. The Furies rage and roar with enough fury to crack the sinuses of any who attempt to speak with them. Their world has been torn from them, it is no wonder that the Furies are so, well, furious. Though you have so very many concerns, you have ordered that the shamans try and restore the connection that the bastard Gul'dan cut so gleefully in the now ravaged Shadowmoon Valley. Perhaps, in another time, you would be too busy with other concerns to deal with it, but your father left scrolls, and you have spoken to Greatmother Geyah a lot. Both have told you the same things. The orcs simply cannot survive as they should without the guidance of the ancestors, the spirits, and the help of the elements. [Every Turn the Shamans of the Mag'har will attempt to reconnect with the elements, this is what the upkeep is paying for. Current Chances at 50%. Will go up 10% in chance every unsuccessful turn]

Intrigue: You aren't really sure if all the skulking about of the past is something you should have, but Jorin remains adamant that you need to keep an eye on such things. He seems to have appointed himself to this position. (Choose 1):

Follow That Chieftain: Kargath didn't just leave Garadar. He left Nagrand. Where on earth did he go? What is he up to? Will he turn around and slaughter you now? You cannot know these things, but Jorin has said he will provide some of the Bleeding Hollow to discretely keep track of them, at least for a nominal distance. You'll at least want to know where he left Nagrand to. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Kargath information. Chance of Success: 85%.

Shadow Council Keep Away: So the Shadow Council want Oshu'gun? Well you'll be damned more than the Horde if you're going to let them at it. The day you let those monsters into the holy site of your people is the day you actually do end up throwing yourself off the edge of Draenor. Jorin agrees. He may be dour, he may be cold, but he too gains a certain spark of rage in his eye at the idea of Oshu'gun being tainted. He wishes to set up the Bleeding Hollow around the holy place in order to ensure that the Shadow Council doesn't actually get their grubby demonically tainted paws on any of it. Cost: 500. Reward: Shadow Council kept out of Oshu'gun, for now.

Personal Actions: You used to have free time. Now you are responsible for tens of thousands of people's lives. It is an amazingly heavy burden, but your back and legs are pretty strong and you aren't about to give up. But you can still make some time for yourself. (Choose 2):

Prove Yourself: In order to prove yourself to your now subordinates, you need to do something impressive. Preferably a whole lot of impressive things. You have your axe, made of good Blackrock steel. You have your wits, and your strength. Go out hunting this year. Provide meat and hide and supplies for your people. Gain experience at hunting and leading, as well as personally assist the sick and the injured. Time: 1 Year. Reward: 500 Gold Income. 75% Chance to gain Trait: Hunter. Boost to Mag'har
reputation.

Battling Grief – Bargaining and Depression: You can deny it no longer. You are hurt. You are depressed. You are furious. At many things, at Varok, he who would be called your father. At Blackhand, he who would have been called your Chieftain. At…well, a lot of things. A lot of orcs, a lot of ogres, a lot of demons. But you cannot proceed in this state forever. It is detrimental, and no matter how much you loath the creature that should be your father and what the overwhelming majority of your people became, you must master it. You must conquer your anger, your fear, your hatred. Or you will be consumed by it, and be useless to all. These are the words that Greatmother Geyah had told you, and you know them to be true. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Path to Acceptance Stage of Grief begun.

Mogor: You despise Mogor. He exemplifies everything that the Horde was, and if Kargath has anything to say about it, still is. A brutish, simplistic, jerk of a creature that stomps on the backs and spirits of a once proud people who did nothing but desire to not join the monsters that were the Horde. They say that the Laughing Skulls were supposed to be expert assassins and killers, but that they were horrendously treacherous. Why, because they had been forced to fight for a cause they did not want nor believe in under a leader who was not of them? Well no wonder they did such things. But that changes. Today. Here lies the first step, perhaps, to the future. You are relatively sure that you could not raise your hand against the Draenei after what your people did to them. Or these 'Alliance', who if they still exist you will make amends to someday. But ogres? Especially this Mogor? Zero qualms. You will speak to Mogor, and he will let. Your. People. Go. The chains of the Horde no longer bind the Laughing Skulls, yet the whipmaster remains in the form of this bastard ogre. No more! Reward: Small Mission Turns. Potential to remove Mogor from ruling over Laughing Skulls. Potential to gain Laughing Skull Clan.

 

[torroar]

2 AA
Turn 2 Results​

Military: Garrosh is largely listless these days but he's still an orc first and foremost. Even at his most mopey he is one of your better fighters. In this new world, you'll take what you can get. (Choose 2):

Hunting Parties – Elekk: The powerful horned elekk are not always quite so large as the clefthoof, but they make up for it in their valuable ivory and bones. Not as large as clefthoof bones, elekk materials are much better for precise tasks. Ten out of ten times will your archers desire elekk bone arrowheads over clefthoof bone arrowheads. Not to mention the meat and hides that will provide for your people. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Hunting Income +500 per turn.

- Elekk hide is far more supple than clefthoof, and better for drums and such. Their bones are great too, and the ivory they provide is useful for both actual tools and is also just valuable on its own. Your newly healthy grunts and hunters welcome the chance to contribute to the Mag'har, and the ability to stretch their legs for once. Reward: Hunting Income +500 per turn.

Scouting South: The south of Nagrand is expansive, considering that you are part of the north. It encapsulates a lot of land that you know little about. Jorin did lead his clan away from far south east, but that was a year ago, so who knows what has changed since? It will take longer for your scouts to fully complete this job, but the information should and will most certainly be worth it. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Southern Nagrand surveyed for stuff.

- Your scouts set off. What encompasses Southern Nagrand is the other two thirds of the land that you have let to explore, so it'll take them a while. They will send back regular reports however. But the initial news is not great. The animals of the land are starting to mutate, if only slightly. It's likely a result of the entire remaining chunk of land that was once Draenor being exposed top to bottom to the raw Twisted Nether. Clefthoofs are growing larger, talbuks have gained a previously unseen sheen to their fur, the Windrocs are getting bigger, and the Elekks…well, one of the scouts swears she saw a pink one but that's ridiculous. They'll send more reports later. Will Complete Next Turn.

Diplomacy: If there's anything that Greatmother Geyah has taught you, is that not all things can be conquered by a warriors strength. It was with words that the first shamans parlayed with the Furies, the sentient elementals of Draenor. It will be with words that you accomplish more than just a good axe. (Choose 1):

Blackrock Loyalty: The Blackrock follow you…because you are technically a Blackrock because of your family lines. Even if you currently despise those family lines with a passion. But you need them to be loyal to Dranosh Saurfang, not Dranosh the Blackrock. They need to know and trust that you will lead them well. On one hand, you hate Blackhand, Rend, Maim, and a lot of the other prominent Blackrocks. On the other, sort of the point of becoming a Chieftain is pushing and being better than the previous Chieftains. Well, you aren't a mass murdering monster, so you're doing a pretty good job on that front, but they need to know you will be better for the Blackrock as well. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Blackrock grow actually loyal to Dranosh rather than to the ties of the Blackrock. Chance for Success: 85%. Required: 15. Rolled: 21.

- You decide to attack the hardest problem of the Blackrocks loyalty to you directly. In line with Blackhands own designs and actions, many of your clans children were either artificially aged as in with the infamous Rend and Maim, or simply dragged beyond the Portal to grow up on a field of constant battle and warfare. As such, in contrast to the other clans who sent their children to Garadar for safety, the large part of the Blackrocks are the elders, old men and women who are craggy and sort of mean in the usual manner of old men and women. They are also distrustful of you. It's strange, now that you consider it, the complete reversal of the fortunes of essentially everyone else in Garadar. The Frostwolves gave their sick children in great amounts before crossing the Portal, not wishing exile on their scions as they braved a new and strange world while knowing they would probably never return. The Warsong didn't want their children slowing them down as they rampaged from place to place, but their elders were too angry and revitalized by…demons…to be 'weak'. So it went, and largely it was the elder Blackrock who were 'left behind'. They are dismissive of you, but you're making efforts. Speaking to them with the homebrew individual language of each clan, you actually get to know some of the elders. It's…ugh. Old people who aren't clever and humorous like Greatmother Geyah are a trial to talk to. At least they actually can put a face and body onto your name, instead of just leaning back and forth on their annoyingly creaky chairs. Will Complete Next Turn.

Stewardship: Garadar simply cannot hold all of these people. Your supplies strain already, and as more and more orcs grow healthy once more the amount of food and housing required will far eclipse what the small city can hold. This must be attended to, and quickly. (Choose 1, Watch Towers Locked In):

Talbuk Farms: The Talbuk are an ancestral animal for the orcs. You largely leave them alone for the simple fact that for many families in many clans, at least based in Nagrand, hunting them down is an adulthood ritual. On the other hand, the world has changed. The old ways were torn down, and honestly you don't know if you'll be able to put them all back up again or even if you should. A small measure towards that is to actually grab some Talbuks and starting to breed them. For food. For milk, for furs, for their other sundry parts. All of it is useful. All of it can be used for the benefit of your people. Cost: 500. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Small Talbuk Farms set up in Garadar. +500 Farming Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies. A single tiny step towards changing orcish culture.

- Well, you did it. A lot of eyebrows were raised when you ordered the pen constructed. It's not like you're somehow penning in all of the talbuk ever, that would be ridiculous. Honestly you just want better access to their milk, meat, and hide. You explain it away as the lack of enough hunters to really get all you need, and the orcs agree. After all, you live in a city filled with the sick and diseased, it's really quite hard for them to build up steam for arguments about changing things. Especially after Jorin quietly pointed out that the world itself ended, and that the Mag'har literally cannot afford to do everything the way they used to. Honestly, you wouldn't know what you'd do without him. Jorin speaks, and when he does, he is given respect beyond his years. He knows his own death. He has seen it, lived it, experienced it, all thanks to the ancient rituals of the Bleeding Hollow. What he says is given much gravity, and especially to the more traditional elders. It's a small step towards changing who you are, and away from what…what your people were before. It's a good change as well because talbuk milk is delicious. Reward: Small Talbuk Farms set up in Garadar. +500 Farming Income per turn. Garadar less in danger of straining supplies. A single tiny step towards changing orcish culture.

Watch Towers: Kargath. Ogres. Demons. The Shadow Council wherever they may be. You need to build a few towers to keep watch over any approaching foes who may try and come up and attack you. Kargath and his band got disturbingly close before your sickly warriors were able to turn pus filled eyes upon him. Not again if you can help it. You'll have to use up a lot of clay and bones, but it should be worth it for any advanced warnings on Garadar. Cost: 1000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Small defensive watch towers built to guard Garadar. Bonus to defensive rolls. Bonus to seeing enemies on approach.

- You've built them. Now at least you'll have a good way of telling if someone is coming towards you for a fair distance. It's easier to see over the grasslands…when you're, well, over the grasslands. Each tower takes anywhere from seven to twelve clefthoof spines and various other parts, but they are undeniably useful. No one is going to be leading a big old army to Garadar like Kargath did anymore, no sir. Reward: Small defensive watch towers built to guard Garadar. Bonus to defensive rolls. Bonus to seeing enemies on approach.

Learning: Not Unlocked Yet

Piety: The shamans despair. The orcs despair. The spirits of your ancestors do not speak. The Furies rage and roar with enough fury to crack the sinuses of any who attempt to speak with them. Their world has been torn from them, it is no wonder that the Furies are so, well, furious. Though you have so very many concerns, you have ordered that the shamans try and restore the connection that the bastard Gul'dan cut so gleefully in the now ravaged Shadowmoon Valley. Perhaps, in another time, you would be too busy with other concerns to deal with it, but your father left scrolls, and you have spoken to Greatmother Geyah a lot. Both have told you the same things. The orcs simply cannot survive as they should without the guidance of the ancestors, the spirits, and the help of the elements. [Every Turn the Shamans of the Mag'har will attempt to reconnect with the elements, this is what the upkeep is paying for. Current Chances at 50%. Will go up 10% in chance every unsuccessful turn]

- Required: 50. Rolled: 14.

The spirits continue to rage. The wounds of the Furies are beyond simple mortal comprehension. The Shamans may despair, but they do not give up. Greatmother Geyah seems to be doing better lately, perhaps the red pox has passed fully through her at last? Enough so at least that she has begun girding herself to make another trip to the Throne of Elements. Many other shamans are readying themselves for this as well. You do not know what may happen when you finally get the Furies to speak to you, but there must be some discourse between you! Failure. Chance raised to 60% for next turn.

Intrigue: You aren't really sure if all the skulking about of the past is something you should have, but Jorin remains adamant that you need to keep an eye on such things. He seems to have appointed himself to this position. (Choose 1):

Shadow Council Keep Away: So the Shadow Council want Oshu'gun? Well you'll be damned more than the Horde if you're going to let them at it. The day you let those monsters into the holy site of your people is the day you actually do end up throwing yourself off the edge of Draenor. Jorin agrees. He may be dour, he may be cold, but he too gains a certain spark of rage in his eye at the idea of Oshu'gun being tainted. He wishes to set up the Bleeding Hollow around the holy place in order to ensure that the Shadow Council doesn't actually get their grubby demonically tainted paws on any of it. Cost: 500. Reward: Shadow Council kept out of Oshu'gun, for now.

- The Bleeding Hollow are as fearless as their leader, but they are also simultaneously quite pious. They have to be, to trust in a ritual that only the line of the chieftain can know the secrets of to really allow their leaders to know their death. It's a leap of faith that the Bleeding Hollow made when the orcs were still young, and they've never regretted it nor proven wrong. So, when they get the chance to set up a small camp near Oshu'gun to keep out the Shadow Council, you had better believe they enjoy it. The Shadow Council tries again a few times, sending a few orcs, then an ogre or two, but they've backed off for now. Apparently they weren't expecting the leader of the Mag'har to be so willing to commit to combat. Too bad for them! Garrosh would probably just have lain there in the dirt staring up in the sky and sighing, but no matter how much you hate Varok and the Horde, you aren't about to let the holy place of Nagrand be defiled. Not now, not ever! Reward: Shadow Council kept out of Oshu'gun, for now.

Personal Actions: You used to have free time. Now you are responsible for tens of thousands of people's lives. It is an amazingly heavy burden, but your back and legs are pretty strong and you aren't about to give up. But you can still make some time for yourself. (Choose 2):

Battling Grief – Bargaining and Depression: You can deny it no longer. You are hurt. You are depressed. You are furious. At many things, at Varok, he who would be called your father. At Blackhand, he who would have been called your Chieftain. At…well, a lot of things. A lot of orcs, a lot of ogres, a lot of demons. But you cannot proceed in this state forever. It is detrimental, and no matter how much you loath the creature that should be your father and what the overwhelming majority of your people became, you must master it. You must conquer your anger, your fear, your hatred. Or you will be consumed by it, and be useless to all. These are the words that Greatmother Geyah had told you, and you know them to be true. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Path to Acceptance Stage of Grief begun.

- It's not very manly to just sit around thinking. It is not the way of the warrior espoused in the scrolls to contemplate, and wonder, and spend time mentally destroying your own preconceived notions. But hell, you have an entire year to do it, and Greatmother Geyah advises you when she can muster the strength. Also, who the hell cares what the scrolls tell you how to act like? You'll sit around philosophizing however you like, it's not like that creature is here to tell you how you were supposed to act. But slowly, ever so slowly, do you weaken the vice which grips your heart whenever you think of the Horde, of the Draenei, of…many things.

You spend many a night over the course of the year simply staring up at the Twisting Nether, the skies above you. You have no ancestors to speak with, and given Varok…you aren't sure you would want to speak to them. Thinking. You can't accept what it is your people became, and what they left behind. Again and again your mind circles back around to one thing: the strong left…the weak were left behind. The strong, as in what orcs are supposed to be, are the ones who corrupted themselves willingly. They attacked and slaughtered and committed genocide and you hate them. The weak, the diseased and old and young and everyone unable to carry a weapon or contribute to the ongoing war efforts, were pushed into a big pile of weakness called Garadar. Dark thoughts indeed, but at the end of it, nearing the end of the year, something strikes you as you stand near the edge of Nagrand and gaze down into the depths of the Twisting Nether.

Draenor…is gone. What was before…has irrevocably changed. The orcs can change to, even if they might not want to. You might not be there yet, but you can be.

Maybe not yet. But may never forget or forgive, but perhaps you can learn to keep moving forward anyway.

Maybe.

Reward: Path to Acceptance Stage of Grief begun. Chance to Achieve Acceptance starts at 30%. Every turn when unable to achieve acceptance and healed heart/soul, gain 10% more chance. The path of self-therapy is long, but needed. The heart of young Saurfang will heal…in time.

Mogor: You despise Mogor. He exemplifies everything that the Horde was, and if Kargath has anything to say about it, still is. A brutish, simplistic, jerk of a creature that stomps on the backs and spirits of a once proud people who did nothing but desire to not join the monsters that were the Horde. They say that the Laughing Skulls were supposed to be expert assassins and killers, but that they were horrendously treacherous. Why, because they had been forced to fight for a cause they did not want nor believe in under a leader who was not of them? Well no wonder they did such things. But that changes. Today. Here lies the first step, perhaps, to the future. You are relatively sure that you could not raise your hand against the Draenei after what your people did to them. Or these 'Alliance', who if they still exist you will make amends to someday. But ogres? Especially this Mogor? Zero qualms. You will speak to Mogor, and he will let. Your. People. Go. The chains of the Horde no longer bind the Laughing Skulls, yet the whipmaster remains in the form of this bastard ogre. No more! Reward: Small Mission Turns. Potential to remove Mogor from ruling over Laughing Skulls. Potential to gain Laughing Skull Clan.

- Garrosh actually gets some fire in his eyes. Jorin smirks nastily. No one likes Mogor. No one! You and your warriors trudge to the northwest, towards where it seems perhaps the last of the Laughing Skulls in existence remain. Shackled by the Gul'dan and the Horde, their skin has irrevocably changed to the tainted green. But you will free them, and see if their hearts can be saved. Reward: Mission Turns.

 

[torroar]

Mogor the Ogre, an early tale of Dranosh Saurfang
​

Northwest of Garadar – Laughing Skull Village

Your dark brown skin glistens in the bright 'sunlight' of the Twisting Nether. Draenor has no moon, no sun, but through the Nether it has trillions of stars. Plenty of light, and through some quirk of fate and magic there is thankfully a relatively similar day and night cycle as there once existed on the now shattered planet.

Ancient recipes for oils and tinctures have been applied across the whole of your body, your only clothing is a simple loincloth. Though you possess no tattoos like Garrosh or Jorin, you do not need them. The fact that they would also be wordless inscriptions of your blood-born relation to Varok and others in the Blackrock is only part of why you wear none. The rest of your warriors carry with them weapons, armors made of hardened leather and bone, though a good many also wear metal in parts and parcel. As for the weapons carried…they vary. Some carry good strong stone weapons, other recently forged iron, and still others bear the ancestral weapons of their fathers or mothers.

You are not of the latter group. Your stone knife was destroyed during your breakdown last year which thankfully none know of, so you've created something else. It took a good long time to carve it out, but in an effort to distance yourself from your father you decided to go in a completely different direction than the usual double bladed axe that many orcs enjoy. In fact, you've taken heart from what few stories managed to drift into Garadar about the 'Alliance'. The 'humans' especially, are weaker on average than orcs, yet despite not possessing an overwhelming number advantage beat the Horde back.

Fighting a creature bigger and stronger than them…exactly as you plan to do. As such, a heavy stone slab has been carved as your shield, a massive stone sword that only someone with your prodigious strength would be able to lift as your weapon. You stand out from all of your warriors, and that is a good thing. They recognize you, by sight now. By the strength it takes to wield what weaker creatures would probably define as two small boulders.

It is time, however, for you have trekked long and hard to get here. Several days passed as you marched, seeing the grasslands of Nagrand. Watching the herds of clefthoof and talbuk walk and run freely. This is what the oh so powerful Horde gave up in their bloodlust and insanity. A peaceful land, one that you lived in harmony with. An unbidden snarl escapes your lips, but you force it down. For you have reached your destination.

There is no wailing, or attacks, thrown spears or axes, or a multitude of other measures of defense that you would expect from any orcish clan settlement. Your initial scouts were unmet by any resistance, despite what had occurred the last time you had sent Mag'har close to here. It is…disturbing to you. It's almost as if the village is abandoned. Yet there are no signs of battle of any sort.

It is as if some of the Laughing Skulls just…picked up and left.

This all changes, of course, when you pass into the village proper.

Your eyes catch a flash of green skin, and all of a sudden your small force is completely surrounded. Not willing to break away from the defenses of Oshu'gun or those defending Garadar, you had only brought a hundred Mag'har with you. Plenty enough to deal with any small force, and if you had to drown Mogor in numbers then you would.

On the other hand, you were now completely surrounded by Laughing Skulls. But instead of reacting with aggression, for some reason the only emotion you can find when you gaze at them is…pity. Unbecoming, you know, and furthermore very few orcs would ever want to be pitied for anything but…the Laughing Skulls just look so…sad.

Though you have over a dozen bows focused on yourself, and plenty more besides aimed at your warriors, the obvious destitution of the Laughing Skulls turns your grip upon your enormous stone blade turn white knuckled. Their bone charms are weathered and cracked. Despite their vibrant green skin, many are obviously malnourished. Those who have hair have let it grow shaggy and wild, and the bright spark of life meant to be in every orcs eyes has nearly guttered out.

Many of them look and feel essentially dead.

By the ancestors, what sort of tyrant had Gul'dan set upon the Laughing Skulls?

Something leaps out at your senses however, and you dive to the side just as a bolt of arcane energy smashes into the ground where you had just stood sending dirt and grass high. You come up to a guarded position even as another one streaks into your shield, blowing a small crater into it.

"Anudder one! GET OUT OF ME PLACE ORC!" yells the chubby voice of who can only be Mogor.

Another orc? What is he talking about?

"First dat big stupid one hand comes here and takes half me clan, den you show up! Go 'way!"

Further questions are squelched by your mind as you stand tall, and cry out with your own booming voice.

"MOGOR! Get out here you miserable fat slime! I would have words with you!"

Thankfully, he does so. You weren't really looking forward to having to kill orcs this day just to kill Mogor. Behind you, the rest of your warriors form up, Jorin shrugging at you sardonically while Garrosh actually seems to be enjoying himself. Honestly, battle is one of the few things that can make the Hellscream stop being so damn depressed, even if it is only in small increments.

An disgustingly huge bulk emerges from the shadows of the dilapidated houses of the Laughing Skulls.



So. That is the literally hamfisted ruler of the Laughing Skulls. Though it would be easy to underestimate him due to his speech patterns and general fatty look, you know that you cannot. He is a powerful ogre mage, and fought in the wars of the Horde. Besides, ogres are fast beyond what most think their bodies should manage. Even if you do convince him to fight you one on one, it will be a hard fight. But thankfully you've at least managed the first objective you had coming here.

Getting Mogor to reveal himself.

Even if he refuses the duel, you can at least run up and kill him. Hopefully the Laughing Skulls would stop if they saw you do so. On the other hand, if he does accept, then you can kill him with hopefully no orc lives lost. In the meantime, as the big ball of fat, muscle, and magic maneuvers himself into what he probably thinks is a position of 'scary' dominance atop a pile of refuse, you cast your gaze once more on the Laughing Skulls.

Internally, you gag slightly at the sight of their skin. How can you not? It is a visible sign of the demon taint which marks the Horde. But they are so broken, their weapons held limply. If the 'one hand' who arrived earlier, and with a bit of ominous thinking it might even have been Kargath, took those who were willing and able, what did that leave? The broken, those too lost, unwilling and unable to stand up for themselves against Mogor. They too must know that the world has ended.

Is that why they have not risen up? Or is it because on some bedrock level of their souls they are still following old traditions and following the one who became their Chieftain?

Kargath must have taken those who still had fire inside them. The strong, the defiant. He left behind, as he seems wont to do, the weak and broken.

A thought strikes you then, or rather a memory. A memory of laying on your back in the grasslands just beyond the outskirts of Garadar and gazing up at the stars.

The Horde was strong. Only the strong and powerful went with the Horde. The weak…were left behind. Shoved into Garadar to either heal or die. The weak is where you were raised, for it was in Garadar that you spent all your life.

The Laughing Skulls left behind were the weak. But even when you could barely hold a weapon, swore to Greatmother Geyah that you would protect Garadar with your life. It didn't matter that they were weak, or perhaps it mattered even more. You would protect them.

You do not know the Laughing Skulls. They don't know you. But they were orcs.

You would protect them, even…no. Especially against tyrants like Kargath and Mogor.

"Why you come here orc! Last one already took best of me clan for stupid Horde!" the ogre snarls at you.

Yes, it was definitely Kargath.

You grin nastily at him.

"I have come for what he did not, ogre. I have come to take the rest of the Laughing Skulls into the fold of Garadar!!"

Though you keep your gaze on Mogor, you see the small sparks of hope suddenly ignite in the eyes of what orcs are in your field of vision. Drowned in hopelessness and listlessness, but a spark nonetheless.

Mogor beats his chest…in laughter? He howls with it, and for a good long time. He laughs and laughs, all the while you grow angrier and angrier.

"You weak! You puny! You wanna fight MOGOR!?"

Abruptly, the ogre stops, and stomps towards you. It is a credit to your training, you think, that you do not flinch as the figure of bouncing muscle and fat reaches you, your head barely at the same height of his belly button. He stoops, slightly, so that his face is tilted down at you.

"You really fink you can take me? Me and me clan? Laughing Skulls crush puny Garadar!"

You do not blink as the spittle splashes on your face. Instead, you nod, fiercely.

"I know so, wretch. I could wash away the Laughing Skulls in a tide of fierce Mag'har warriors! But I will not, because I do not need to nor want to."

With a wrench of your arm, your stone sword nearly pokes Mogor in one of his head's noses.

"Because I challenge you to Mak'gora!"

There is a sudden hush which surrounds you. Jorin stares at you in surprise. He hadn't questioned your orders, because obviously this was not where he would die. Apparently he hadn't thought you would do this. Garrosh just stares at you, no true expression on his face other than shock. The Laughing Skulls stare as well, some blankly, others incredulously.

Mogor looks at you in confusion.

"What dat?"

That…what? He…he just….

There is a red haze falling over your vision, and it is only Jorin slapping a hand on your shoulder which keeps you from exploding into a whirlwind of violence and rage.

"It's the…it's what my mother agreed to, Chieftain…" a tired voice says from nearby.

Eyes turn to look at a small, for an orc, woman. Her eyes are…ah. She's blind. Milky white orbs gaze unsettlingly on target at your face, while a hand holds onto a long blade of a type you swear you've seen before. Her mother? But, that would mean-

"OH! Big thump fight with little Kaz the Squeaky!" Mogor yelled in remembrance.

Perhaps yelling is his default volume? You don't really know, as your eyes remain on the blind orc swordswoman, and your ears catch what she mutters almost angrily under her breath.

"Her name was Kaz the Shrieker you son of a bitch…"

Mogor's left head whips around to glare at her.

"You say somefin weak puny orc?" it growls at her.

And just like that, her small bout of anger is broken, and she turns silent once more. Then the head turns back, to find you glaring at it. How could you not? To have broken a once proud clan so completely...ugh. You must speak with Greatmother Geyah on how to control the bloodrage, ever since your first exposure to it you fear it has tried to consume you more and more lately.

"So! You wanna challenge Mogor to big thumpy fight for control of clan?" the right head says contemplatively.

A large hand rubs said head's triple chin, as the head gazes off into the sky. The other head, the one on the left, just glares menacingly at you. Then, as if on some unseen cue, the heads turn to each other and begin babbling faster than you can catch. As you open your mouth to speak once more they turn in unison at you, both wearing a nasty grin.

"Hah. I squish you, and den I get new orcs to serve me! Easy fight, orcs who not stupid and broken like Laughing Skulls…I accept! Gahahahah!"

If you did not intend to fight an honorable duel with this piece of shit you would tear him apart. Orcs are not his tools to play with! The ogre mage laughs and turns away from you, and oh it is so tempting to plunge your blade into his back. But you are better than that, and can take comfort in that fact even though it would be so easy…

"Uhhh…yeah…cause you da challenger, den you set the time and date…and rules? I tink? No…not all de rules. No, wait, I de challenged, I decide the time and place…yeah? YEAH!" the ogre mumbles to himself before turning around.

"You gets ta fight Mogor at time when day go night! One weapon, no one else intefer…intefein…..mess with it except you an us!"

The ogre giggles, which is a sound you could have gone your whole life without hearing.

"You can even stay in village and wait for smashy times!" his right head looks at you with a malicious grin, "An give me new orcs a chance to see da fun times that we get to has after me smash you!"

Dusk. That's an hour from now. You could wait. Instincts blink out at you and you turn to look at the unerring stare of the blind orc woman, who claims that her mother was Kaz the Shrieker the previous Chieftain of the Laughing Skulls. If you waited, you could speak to the Laughing Skulls. Learn of their trials, their stories, and to ensure that they know of you and what you offer. It would likely smooth over any issues with your leadership if you spoke to them.

On the other hand, that gives Mogor time to prepare. He could do something worthy of the treachery he is known for in the meantime. Poison is forbidden, but you doubt he'll care. He could imbibe some sort of potion, or imbue his weapons with his magical might…if you try and get him to start the fight right now he'll have less time to prepare. But the Laughing Skulls might react in a way that you can't predict. You can never tell with the abused, Greatmother Geyah tells you. You'll likely be able to speak to them afterwards. Then again, you traveled hard to get here, and you could use the rest.

Hmmm…

What to do?
[ ] Try and Convince Mogor to fight now. You are tired from the travel, but you don't want to give him the chance to prepare. Chance of Success: 75%.

[ ] Wait for an hour. Chance to speak to Kaz the Shriekers daughter, regain some energy for the fight. On the other hand Mogor will probably prepare some sort of treachery. Chance of Success: 100%.