You are the Apocalypse: Karthog

[Inevitability]

From the book of Expirations, chapter 2, verses 1 to 5:

1 And in the end of days, armies will rise. 2 They arelead by the Zealot, who is branded with the mark of death. 3 And the Zealot shall be clothed only in the skins of beasts and he shall wield no weapon but a stick. 4 He shall be no ruler, but a warrior, for the Zealot must not command but be commanded. 5 And the Zealot shall lead his armies and leave death in his wake.

http://assets.atlasobscura.com/article_images/30112/image.jpg

Karthog, now a muscular, tall orc, awakens in the clearing, finally rid of the terrible pains. His new eyes blink involuntarily for a few moments before focusing on his surroundings. They appear similar to how they were before his rebirth, yet different too.

Based on the position of the sun, it's early in the afternoon, meaning Karthog has spent at least a day here. Strangely, he does not feel hungry or thirsty at all.

To the east, Karthog knows, lies his hometown. Various druids have gathered there for their heretical rituals.

Someone ought to show them the error of their ways.

http://i.imgur.com/lQmkh0i.png

[gremlin-pult]

"Mmmh, So this is how it feels to be strong..." Karthog rumbled, standing up straight and rolling his shoulders as he stretched. His new muscles gave a series of satisfying pops, but his attention was not on that. His brows were raised in mild surprise as he considered his voice. It was deeper now, brimming with power. Even the merest growl invoked images of barely restrained savagery. He was pleased, and silently thanked the Great Mother. Even if this gift paled in the face of all else she had granted him, He was immensely pleased to be rid of his old, screechy voice.
He chuckled to himself, the chuckling quickly rising into full-blown laughter. Taking a deep breath, he let loose a fierce, guttural howl, reveling in how his challenge to the world echoed for miles around.

Deciding that he'd had enough fun for now, Karthog started walking towards the settlement. No more heresy would be committed by his kin while he drew breath. It was time for a reckoning.


Just wanna say, that intro, The whole prophesy bit especially? Brilliant. I got goosebumps reading it. :smallbiggrin:
Now to spread the good word.

[Inevitability]

Karthog walks through the forest and finds that his new body is much faster than his old one. Where in the past it'd haven taken him half an hour to get to his hometown, now his journey takes only half the time.

The orc sees the many wooden huts surrounded by the wooden wall, the large fields where the servant orcs grow crops, and the large structure outside the city wall, where he knows the druids have gathered.

The tent consists of dozens of animal skins, fortified with wood and bone. Two guards stand outside to prevent anyone from disturbing the consulting druids. The smoke circling up indicates that the druids are present.

Thanks for your kind words! :smallsmile:

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog stalked directly towards the tent, not giving the guards a glance. They where so... small now, compared to him. So reliant on their spears and their shields. They would not keep him from his purpose.
Karthog thought through what he would say to the lesser druids when he entered. It would have to be powerful and decisive, followed by an undeniable show of power. They where stubborn, the druids, even for orcs. So mired in their "Traditions" and blind to the true way. The way that could never be found underneath a roof.

[Inevitability]

As Karthog approaches, the guards rise their spears and move to block access to the tent. While dwarfed by the savage-looking orc, their superior numbers and equipment seem to embolden them. One of them makes a menacing gesture with his spear while the other addresses Karthog:

"None can enter, stranger. Leave if you value yer skin."

[gremlin-pult]

"I am Karthog. I have every right to attend. Moreso than any of those so called druids inside. Now step aside, heretic. The true will of Mother Nature will not be denied." Karthog growled in response.
He locked gazes with each of the guards in turn, his own red eyes flaring slightly with power. Baring his teeth slightly, he made the unvoiced threat plain to them.


Karthog is gonna try and intimidate them into stepping aside.

Intimidate check: [roll0]

[Inevitability]

[roll0]
[roll1]

One of the orcs seems shaken and quickly steps aside, but the other isn't so easily frightened.

"Oh, haven't heard dis one before! If yer such a great druid, how 'bout ye work some of yer magic, huh? Make lightning come down from the sky! Turn into a bear! Make roasted pig appear out of thin air: I sure could go for some!"

The orc laughs a bit at his own joke, then rises his spear.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog lapsed into silence at the guards mockery. He simply looked at him for a long, tense moment, his red eyes boring into the orc's, as if they could see into his soul.
"So you wish to see my magic?..." He asked softly. "As you wish."

He turned around and walked a few paces away from the guard, before turning back so he faced the tent and the guards. They mocked him. That was nothing new. Before meeting the Mother he would have been angered, but now he simply felt pity. They did not understand. And how could they? They had not gazed upon the glory that is Creation. So he would teach them to revere her.
He raised his staff above his head.

"By land and sea!" He called, and the air stilled.

"By sun and moon!" He howled, and clouds darkened the sky above him.

"By earth and heaven!" He roared at the top of his lungs, and the soil trembled underneath him.

"These children have strayed. They have been led, blindly, by false guides! But the mother graces the land once more, and I spread her word! These guides have strayed, leading us into heresy. But no more!"
As Karthog roared, the dark clouds roiled above him, coalescing and merging above the tent where the druids where assembled. Light started sparking inside the clouds, as if lightning and fire streamed through them.

"Let it be heard! Let the children know! May you all see that heresy against the Mother..." The fire and light crackled and hissed in the clouds.

"...IS ANSWERED WITH HEAVENLY FIRE!"

The instant Karthog roared the last word his voice and the roiling sky harmonized in a chaotic crescendo, and with untamed fury the fire poured down in a soaring pillar of flame and death, hammering down into the tent.

Karthog looked at the fire with satisfaction. Some of the heretics might've died. And the rest would respect his power.


Karthog casts Flame strike on the middle of the tent. Howzat for druid magic?

Fire/Untyped divine damage: [roll0]

Reflex for half = 19

[Inevitability]

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

As Karthog casts his spell, the guard's expression remains one of mockery. Said expression quickly changes to one of shock once he sees the pillar of fire hammer down on the druids' tent.

"What the... what they hell are ya?"

His cowardly companion is already running. The guard makes a quick assessment and finds himself outnumbered, outgunned, and out of his mind with fear. He turns and runs after his companion, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure Karthog isn't following him.

Then, Karthog spots movement from the tent's smouldering remains. A single orc, perhaps fifty years of age, crawls out of the tent, his face covered in burns and his clothing blackened with ash. Upon noticing Karthog, the orc quickly scrambles to his feet.

"You heretic! You assailed the holiest of your fellow orcs! All the others are dead! THE SPIRITS WILL DESTROY YOU FOR THIS!"

The druid grasps his staff (now a charred piece of wood), and prepares to attack Karthog.

(Initiative in next post)

The druid backs off and begins mumbling words of druidic power and slowly moving his staff in an intricate pattern.

If it's unclear: the druid is currently casting a spell, meaning his turn has ended.

[Inevitability]

Druid: [roll0]
Karthog: [roll1]

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog growls menacingly when the orc starts his spell. "The Great Mother created everything, including the spirits! You and all peoples go against her, the most exalted of spirits and gods! You are the heretic!" He exclaimed, dashing forward toward the druid. As he ran his claws flexed and grew thicker. His muscles rippled and enlarged, and his teeth and tusks lenghtened and grew more sharp. The hair on his body thickened slightly. Each change made him seem more and more bestial.

With a snarl he bit at the druid, then lashed out with his clawed hands.


Karthog charges in to interrupt the druids magic. He uses a swift action to shift into Predator form (+4 str and natural armor, bite attack 1d6.)
And since he has pounce from his feral template, he makes a full attack at the end of the charge, 1 bite and 2 claws.

Bite
attack: [roll0]
crit confirm: [roll1]
damage: [roll2]
crit damage: [roll3]

claw 1
attack: [roll4]
crit confirm: [roll5]
damage: [roll6]
crit damage: [roll7]

claw 2
attack: [roll8]
crit confirm: [roll9]
damage: [roll10]
crit damage: [roll11]

[Inevitability]

The druid takes the full force of Karthog's assault and is killed instantaneously. His staff, which he raised in a last-ditch effort to defend himself, is broken. His robes are torn. Incidentally, his spell is also disrupted.

[gremlin-pult]

Looking down at the torn body in silence Karthog reverted to his normal form, then spat out a gob of the druid's flesh and blood.
He then turned around and took a deep breath.

"I Karthog, Wildborn voice of the Mother Call you! I Karthog, true druid call you! I Karthog call for the people to gather! I call for the people to hear! Come, Orken, come and hear the words of the druid!" He howled.

After his cry dissipated, he stood silently and waited. The orcs would come. The call of a druid had been made, and someone nearby would have heard it, and set out to spread the word. The orcs always heeded the call of a druid.

[Inevitability]

After several minutes, orcs start to arrive. Amongst them are the two guards Karthog scared off, both of them speaking to others in hushed voices.

Upon seeing the devastated tent and the druids' corpses, the orcs start furiously talking and whispering amongst each other. Despite the fear apparent in some, they seem to be interested in what Karthog has to say.

"What happened here?"
"Has anyone seen that orc before?"
"How can one person kill all those druids?"
"The mother? I've never heard of that."

[gremlin-pult]

With the orcs assembled, Karthog took a deep breath, then started to speak. "Hear me, orcs. I am Karthog." He called out, his voice loud, powerful and clear. "You know who I was before. Karthog the unworthy. Karthog the half-druid. Many names you called me in mockery. And it was true. I did not have power, or the ear for hearing the spirits! But that time is over! The great Mother has remade me. Aeons ago, she made this world and all in it. She is the very summit of all there is, the god who stands above the spirits! And now, after millenia of leaving us to our own devices, she has returned to judge us!"
Karthog paused his speech, letting the words sink in with the crowd.
"And what she has seen, brothers and sisters, has disappointed her! The mother created the world, perfect from the very beginning! Yet we, in our hubris, have forgotten the reverence that is her due. Even worse, we have allowed ourselves to be led by heretical leaders. We've built cities and crafted tools from metal. We have sinned, as all the world has sinned!
But now the Mother has sent her answer. She has remade me into what a true orc should be, and blessed me with a smidgen of the TRUE power of nature!"

He once more raised his arms above his head, as his call rose to a howl, for all the orcs to hear.
"THE TIME IS NOW, BROTHERS AND SISTERS! THE TIME TO REDEEM OURSELVES AND RETURN THE WORLD TO HOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE!

NO MORE CITIES! THERE WILL ONLY BE THE WILD!

NO MORE ORDER, THERE WILL ONLY BE CHAOS!

NO MORE STEEL, THERE WILL ONLY BE STONE AND WOOD!"

He paused to regain his breath, and to gauge how the crowd was reacting to his words.


I'm not sure if a check is required, but I imagine this would be diplomacy, if anything. So I'll make a roll, just in case.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[Inevitability]

"Karthog? The Karthog? That's impossible!"
"This orc does look like Karthog, though... And why would he lie?
"No more cities? No more steel? What is he saying?"

Then a single voice calls out from the masses. Surprisingly, it seems to belong to the cowardly guard who ran away quickly.

"I saw Karthog's power myself. I... I watched it burn the druids, killing them all. And I don't care what anyone things, but if the Mother, as Karthog calls it, can grant someone such power... then I will gladly serve her."

The orc walks forward, unhindered by the others. He then lies his spear at Karthog's feet.

[gremlin-pult]

Seeing the kneeling orc, Karthog steps forward and puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I cannot promise you power. Only the Mother can grant such blessings, and whether she will is not something I know. You must all understand, I was not remade for my sake. I have been deemed worthy of being her tool, nothing more." He said softly, but loud enough that those around them could hear it. He looked up and around at the others.
"I can only tell you what the Mother wishes. The intelligent races of the world, including the orcs, have sinned against her when we brought change to the world. Cities. Metal. Progress. Those are not things she envisioned. The world she created was perfect, wild and untamed. Everything fit together in balance. The druids of our people have tried to lead us, but their vision is too small. Not even the spirits could possibly understand the Mother's will, for only she is infallible."

He stood up once more. "We are not forgiven by the Mother. But she has decided that, of all the races, the orcs are the ones who has sinned the least. For while we failed to adhere to her will, at least we tried. That is why she has given us this chance! We must rise up, together, and wipe the world clean of civilization's filth. The other races must be cast down from their heathen thrones, each and every one of them must be slain. There can be no half measures, no bargaining and no mercy.

MAKE NO MISTAKE, MY KIN. ALL RACES, US INCLUDED, WILL BE SWEPT AWAY! WHAT I OFFER YOU IS A CHOICE. YOU CAN EITHER SERVE AS THE MOTHER'S TOOL IN THIS ENDEAVOR, AND BE JUDGED THUSLY IN THE AFTERLIFE, OR YOU CAN RESIST AND BE PURGED BY FAR WORSE HERALDS THAN I!"

Once more he raised his arms. This was the turning point. Whether these orcs would find salvation ni the Mother's embrace after death, or burn in nothingness depended on their next decision.

"SO TELL ME, ORCS! WILL YOU FIGHT IN HEATHEN ARMIES, STRUGGLING IN VAIN AGAINST JUDGEMENT? OR WILL YOU CAST ASIDE THE FALSE PROMISES OF CIVILIZATION, AND GO TOWARDS THE DEATH OF THIS AGE AS THE MOTHER'S... GLORIOUS... HORDE?"

[Inevitability]

During Karthog's speech, more and more orcs come from the city, until almost the entire population is present. Some seem enthusiastic, others less so, others openly hostile. None of the unruly dare speak up, though: the pillar of fire is still fresh in their minds.

The first to approach are the warriors. A glorious death is the purpose of their entire existence, after all. The war, and the reasons it is fought, are of lesser importance: what matters is war.

Then, many servants join Karthog. A chance to become more than untouchable serfs is something all of them have been waiting for. Even they would die in their first battle, at least they would die in battle.

Most druids remain behind, though, and a large number of warriors and servants stay with them. They return to their city, carrying the burned bodies of the elder druids with them. Some spit curses at Karthog, others shake their fists. No more than five of the druids pledge their allegiance to the Great Mother.

It will take time to count the exact number, but right now it seems a little over half the city population has joined Karthog: nearly 1500 orcs. A strange atmosphere of fatalism, bloodlust and bravery permeates the mass as they chant the names of Karthog and the Great Mother.

[gremlin-pult]

"So be it." Karthog uttered as he watched those who had declined to serve walk away. He then turned to his new followers. "They have been warned, and know what is coming. Either they will die later at our hands, or at the hands of another calamity. It matters not. In the end they will be perish for their sins. For now, we must go to the nearest orc settlement. We will gather those willing to serve in each one, and when that is done, we will start our crusade into the realms of the other races. Gather what you need to survive, children of the Mother. We will live of the land, and take what we need from the lands we walk through. The horde does not build, and it does not sow. It moves, it destroys, and it devours whatever gets in it's path! Make ready! We travel at dawn!"

"An hour before dawn, you will gather them all." He said in a lower voice to the druids who joined him. "You will take them into the settlement, and slaughter all the warriors in their sleep. They deserve no better for rejecting the Mother's grace. I want the traitorous leaders brought before me. As of this moment they are druids no more, only heretics. They will be made an example before the people. Gag them and break their hands if they resist or try to command nature. They are unworthy."

[Inevitability]

Many orcs return to their homes to sleep one last night and gather what possessions they may want to take with them. Others, including the druids and the cowardly guardsman, stay with Karthog.

The druids walks forward and kneel before Karthog.

"Your will shall be done, Hand of the Mother. Please teach us to serve our goddess, so that she may grant us magic and allow us to destroy the infidels."

[gremlin-pult]

"Hmm..." Karthog mused, looking at the druids. Maybe they truly wished to serve. Or maybe they simply hungered for the kind of power the Mother had blessed him with. But it did not matter. Whether they where worthy or not was the Mothers decision, not his. And they could not hide their souls before her glory. And even if they where worthy, their bodies could not handle the power without first being remade. So perhaps asking the Mother if they were worthy of that boon would be a good start.

"Great Mother. This humble servant asks you, are these souls worthy of serving you as more than mere mortals? Are they worthy of being broken and remade, of serving you as true Orcs?" He called out.
Whether the answer was positive, or whether there would be any answer at all, was the great ones decision.


What I''m imagining here is that, perhaps the Mother could test those orcs Karthog deem worthy of the question, like great warriors and druids. The test would basically be if they where loyal and worthy enough. If they weren't the test would kill them, in great agony. If they were worthy the pain would be even greater, but they would come out on the other side stronger. Perhaps with the feral template?

It would fit well with the wild aspect of creation, remaking them as true orcs, and would make them able to fight in the horde even when they cast aside their armor and metal weapons as they renounce civilization.

Dunno whether you agree, but I figure it could be a cool way to go with it.

(I may also be channeling a tiny, miniscule bit of Gul'dan, corrupting the orcs with true power... What can I say, Gul'dan rocks, and the movie is awesome.):smalltongue:

[Inevitability]

I must say I like the idea. How about the following ritual?

First, the prospective feral creature must drink the blood and consume the flesh of a civilized creature they slew themselves. They must then sacrifice the creature's remains, including uneaten flesh and undrunk blood, to the Great Mother.

Finally, the creature undertaking the ritual must meditate for a full day. It must then make a DC 12 fortitude saving throw. Success indicates the creature survives the pains and is reborn as a feral creature, failure indicates it dies an agonizing death.

[gremlin-pult]

As karthog felt the Mother's answer, a toothy smile spread across his face. A worthy test, Oh Mother... I shall implement it immediately...

"You wish to serve the mother as true orcs? Then you must first offer up a sacrifice, and have your resolve tested. Do as I commanded to those who rejected the Mother, but bring one of them alive for each of you, besides the heretic druids. Then I shall guide you in how you can become servants in body as well as in name." He said to the druids.



I must say I like the idea. How about the following ritual?

First, the prospective feral creature must drink the blood and consume the flesh of a civilized creature they slew themselves. They must then sacrifice the creature's remains, including uneaten flesh and undrunk blood, to the Great Mother.

Finally, the creature undertaking the ritual must meditate for a full day. It must then make a DC 12 fortitude saving throw. Success indicates the creature survives the pains and is reborn as a feral creature, failure indicates it dies an agonizing death.

As you can probably guess from Karthog's words, I think your ritual is totally wicked. :smallbiggrin:
Let's do it!

Great way to make use of the orcs who won't join, too.
The Mother is super into recycling like that.

[Inevitability]

The day passes, and the orcs return to Karthog with their possessions.

An hour before sunrise, one of the druids approaches Karthog, a worried expression on his face.

"The warriors have been gathered, but there is... a problem. A warrior who calls himself Ovut Roturbul says he will not fight his kin. Many orcs have joined him in his heresy. I fear that if the orcs loyal to us are told to attack, Ovut and his horde will try to stop them with force."

[gremlin-pult]

"I see..." Karthog muttered. He suspected something like this would happen. They would not give up their old ways overnight, flawed though they may be.
"Bring him and those who support him to me. I will deal with them myself."

[Inevitability]

The druid bows and hustles towards the group of battle-ready warriors. He talks to a burly orc wielding a mighty greataxe, then returns to Karthog followed by the orc and those loyal to him. The heretic orcs seem to number in the hundreds: almost all of them warriors.

"I am Ovut Roturbul." the large orc speaks. "I am a servant of the Mother, but will not slay my own kin. These warriors all agree with me."

[gremlin-pult]

"I understand." Karthog answered mildly. After a moment he continued. "I understand that you are weak. In refusing to kill those who cling to their heresy, you reject the Mother. She is unspoiled, nature in it's wildest form. There are no rules, except the rule of the wild. Those cretins..." He pointed in the direction the ones who refused him had left. "Are not your kin. They are not orcs. In refusing the mother they have forfeited their right to live!"

Standing up straight, he looked the warrior straight in the eye. "I thought you and your followers were warriors. That you respect strength above all else. If that is so, then I would challenge your opinion on the fate of the heretics. I challenge you, in the ways of our people, to single combat. The only rule amongst our people that may hold some credence in the eyes of the Mother. For in nature, might makes right..."

He glared the warrior straight in the eye, before throwing his staff on the ground and smiling hungrily. "...And I am mightier than you."

[Inevitability]

For the briefest of moments, a glimmer of fear appears in Ovut's eyes. Then it is replaced by cold determination.

"I shall fight. Let the Mother decide who emerges victorious."

The other warriors, who by now have noticed what's going on, approach too and form a large circle. Ovut moves to one side and draws his weapon, which seems to have a single glowing rune carved in its blade.

Karthog's orcish adversary takes a deep breath, then unleashes a mighty roar. The duel has begun.

Karthog: [roll0]
Ovut: [roll1]

The circle is about sixty feet in diameter.

Also, how about some appropriate music (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egne2ZCMM_0)?

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog calmly undid the wooden claslp holding the wolf skin on his shoulders, and let it slide to the ground.
With a growl he started stalking towards Ovut. As he moved and picked up more and more speed, a terrifying transformation went through him. His muscles grew and his bones warped as he grew in size and width, growing at least 4 feet in height. Coarse black hair started sprouting across his body, and his lower jaw enlarged as his teeth grew, and his tusks lengthened into long, bony daggers. His brow grew and his claws flexed into jagged instruments of death as they forced their way out of his fingers.
When he was at top speed he had grown into a true beast, a monster inbetween an orc and a bear. He loped forward, using his arms as much as his feet, and with every step he took his massive body shook the ground.
As he reached Ovut in what seemed like the blink of an eye, he roared and lashed out with tooth and claw, intent on ripping the upstart warrior apart with his bare hands.


Karthog uses a swift action to shift into Ferocious slayer form (+8 Str, large size, +4 to fort saves, +8 natural armor, improved crit on both claws and bite.)
Also, now that he is a size category larger than Ovut, He is eligible for a whole host of nastiness.
he has pounce, so he can make a full attack (1 bite, 2 claw). If one or more claws hit, he can make a free grapple due to improved grab. If he succeeds in grappling, he can make two extra rake attacks (Which is two extra claw attacks at full attack bonus with 1/2 str to damage.)
Now, onto the nastiness.

Bite
attack: [roll0]
crit confirm: [roll1]
damage: [roll2]
crit damage: [roll3]

Claw1
attack: [roll4]
crit confirm: [roll5]
damage: [roll6]
crit damage: [roll7]

Claw2
attack: [roll8]
crit confirm: [roll9]
damage: [roll10]
crit damage: [roll11]

Grapple (If at least one claw hits)
[roll12]

Extra rake attacks (If grapple is successful)
Claw1
attack: [roll13]
crit confirm: [roll14]
damage: [roll15]
crit damage: [roll16]

Claw2
attack: [roll17]
crit confirm: [roll18]
damage: [roll19]
crit damage: [roll20]

[Inevitability]

[roll0]

Karthog slams into his opponent. His teeth and claws easily bypass Ovut's defense and leave horrible wounds. With one claw, Karthog seizes his foe, then rends his flesh.

Ovut groans and almost falls to the ground, but Karthog's claws keep him in place. The warrior groans and, his axe arm kept in place by Karthog's grip, kicks the druid as hard as he can, but his attack doesn't even bruise Karthog's hide.

The orc roars out: "Do it, then! Kill me! End our race! Let me be the first to die in this night of blood!"

[Inevitability]

Unless you choose not to take it, this provokes an AoO. Assuming you don't make the AoO, or Ovut doesn't get hit:

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[gremlin-pult]

"And why would I do that?" Karthog rumbled, letting the thoroughly beaten warrior fall to the ground. His voice was even deeper now, and came out with a hint of a growl in every sound, but it was still quite understandable to those who heard it.
"I am what the mother envisions an orc to be. I am the strongest warrior! I am the most powerful druid! I am Warchief now!" He snarled loudly. In this form he did not even need to yell to be heard by the crowd. "In a heartbeat I defeated this one, a so called mighty warrior of our race! Well I say that the mother denies that your are Orc. You are shadows of what you are meant to be! But each of you, in choosing to serve the Mother without question, have the potential to become true Orcs! To become like me, more powerful than anything the civilized races can even imagine! You have the opportunity! You need only ask, and obey the Mother's will!"

He pointed again in the direction of the ones who had rejected him to begin with. "They have been given the same offer! They have been shown their folly and heresy! They have seen the Mother's way, and her will, just like you! And still, they spit in the face of her mercy! Tell me, can they still call themselves Orc? I say they are traitors to our kind! To slay them is not to attack our kin, but to cull the weak and stupid! They are not Orc, and they do not. Deserve. TO LIVE! NOW TELL ME! WILL YOU BE WEAK? OR WILL YOU BE ORC?"


Now let's see if I can convince the warriors with some real strength to back up the words this time.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

Or in case this fits the situation better.

Intimidate: [roll1]

[Inevitability]

A moment, there is silence. It is not peaceful silence, but a silence filled with promises of war. It is the silence before the storm.

And then the storm breaks loose. All orcs, including those who supported Ovut, call out to answer Karthog's question.

"We will be orcs! We will be orcs! WE WILL BE ORCS! WE WILL BE ORCS!"

The horde charges the city, fueled by instinct and rage. Servants, warriors and druids run together, all with but a single goal: to kill the traitors.

Ovut, now one of the only ones remaining, scrambles up and winces as the sudden movement sends a wave of pain through his body. On his face, now pale from blood loss, appears the faintest of smiles.

"Heh. Guess she really does... favor.. you."

As the first houses start going up in flames, Ovut collapses, this time for good.

[gremlin-pult]

As he watched the blessed mayhem that the Mother's newest devotees where making, Karthog smiled. As he relaxed he allowed his body to reshape back into it's previous form. He could stay indefinitely in the more wild form the Mother had granted him, but he did not wish to use such blessings without reason. What the Mother had granted him, she could just as easily take away if he got arrogant or used it unwisely.
He looked down at Ovut's body. "Thank you brother." He said, reaching down and closing the warriors eyes. "Though you may not have realised it, you served the Mother well in your defiance. It allowed me to show the truth to those who wavered. You go now to the Mother's embrace, a true Orc in spirit."

He then sat down on the ground once more. While he awaited the return of the newly forged horde, he would rest and prepare mentally for the ritual they would perform. Hopefully a few more brethren would survive their initiation into their new lives.

[Inevitability]

The fight takes long. Sounds of battle can be heard constantly, as well as the snarling of animals. At one point, lightning starts striking down from above, but which side called it down can't be said.

Eventually, though, the battle ends. Servants and warriors, some of them carrying dead or wounded, are first to leave the burning town. Then Karthog's druids arrive, but they seem one short. A handful of warriors walks after them, carrying bound and gagged prisoners.

One of the druids approaches Karthog and kneels. She then speaks:

"Voice of the Mother, we have won the battle. As you commanded, many heretics were captured."

"However, Hagob Oakenskin fell in battle. One of the enemy druids summoned a swarm of bats, which killed him before our warriors could slay the heretic. Even as the animals clawed and bit at him, he continued fighting and slew two enemies with lightning bolts. He was a true servant of the Mother."

It seems about two hundred enemies have been taken captive, ten of them druids.

[gremlin-pult]

"He served the mother well. He will be burned, and his spirit will be judged by her. No one could ask for anything more." Karthog said sagely. He then abruptly narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Now, bring the heretic druids before me. And each of you choose one. They will serve as the sacrifices for your ascendance."

[Inevitability]

While two warriors carry off Habog's body, ten orcs are roughly separated from the masses. They are led before Karthog and his fellow druids and forced to their feet.

"Here are the druids, Voice of the Mother," a fat orc servant speaks. "What should we do with the warriors and servants we took prisoner?"

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog stared long and hard at the captive druids, looking each of them in the eye in turn.
"Will you still deny the will of the Mother?" He asked, his voice gentle. "You have seen what her servants are capable of, the servants of the true will of the world. Now, you have felt it too. Do you still deny her?"

Leaving them to ponder his words, he turned to his faithful. "Ask them each in turn whether they will continue their heretical ways. If they denounce their heresy and swear upon their souls to serve the Mother, set them free. If not... they will each serve as sacrifices to the faithful's ascendance. All who serve the Mother have an equal chance to be remade. It depends only on their strenght, and their devotion whether they succeed. But it is not something they must do. If they do not feel ready to ascend, they are free to serve the Mother in their current forms. The Mother does not force her will upon anyone. But neither will she suffer heretics to live."

With his orders given, Karthog returned his attention to the heretic druids. They would be given this final chance. beyond that, their lives where forfeit.

[Inevitability]

"Serve your made-up beast goddess? I'd rather die!" one of the druids calls out. "If you think fear of death can shake my faith in the spirits, Karthog, then you are wrong, and so are all who follow you! All you've shown me is that you're capable of cowardly ambushing sleeping orcs: the power you speak of is no power at all, but rather cowardice and cunning!"

[roll0]

A few other druids, apparently emboldened by their elder's exclamation, remain silent when asked if they will serve the Mother. At least half the group, however, proclaims that they shall serve Karthog's goddess. They are freed, and the other druids are brought forward. Another orc already approaches, carrying many wicked-looking blades obviously meant for execution rather than combat.

All of the druids who originally sided with Karthog seem willing to undergo the ritual, as well as a couple of the warriors and one of the recently converted druids. The others don't seem to desire it, perhaps fearing their devotion isn't yet strong enough.

Conveniently, there's ten yet unconverted druids and ten orcs who wish to undergo the ritual.

[gremlin-pult]

"Very well. You've made your choice." Karthog answered. "My task is not to change your mind."

He turned to his followers, grabbed one of the execution tools, and held it out to the nearest of his prospective true orcs.
"The strong prey on the weak. That is the one, immutable and absolute law of the world. The weak are not supposed to change the world so that they can survive in it. Personal strength is the only acceptable form of power. Take the blade. Kill him." He said, pointing at the most vocal of the prisoners. "Then, drink a hearty mouthful of his blood, and eat a large bite of his flesh. Then devote the rest in sacrifice to the Mother. The true predator cares not whence it's food and drink comes from, But only by partaking in the flesh of heretics can one show their devotion to the Mother's untamed world. When that is done, you must take a day to reflect in solitude, casting away your former life for good. Only then will the Mother grant you her touch. Whether you survive the change, is up to you alone."

Handing him the blade, Karthog turned to the rest. "That goes for all of you. Kill and feast, then burn the rest for the Mother to partake in. Then go in solitude, making peace with yourselves. Then the Mother will test each of you. Some of you will die. But you will die as her faithful, her children. Those who survive... Will have taken their first step toward truly being part of nature."

[Inevitability]

The orc, clearly not expecting being commanded to consume another orc's flesh and blood, takes the knife with shaking hands. The soon-to-be sacrifice prepares to say something... and is promptly stabbed in the throat. The faithful druid continues to hack and tear at the flesh until his victim is dead and then, with visible disgust, drinks the blood and tears off some of the flesh with his teeth.

Another orc takes a knife, stabs, eats, drinks, and rises again. So does another. And another. And another. And another, until all druids lie dead. A few servants start building a large wooden pyre to burn the dead while the warriors and druids walk off to secluded places where they can safely pray.

A short while later, a muscular warrior orc walks over from the mass of subdued orcs to Karthog.

"What should we do with the other prisoners, Fang of the Mother? You need but command it for me and my warriors to kill all."

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog gazed out at the prisoners for a long moment, almost as if lost in thought. He then shook his head slowly, as if disappointed with what he saw.
"Twice they were offered to be free. Twice they denied it. The Mother WILL have the world cleansed of all that thinks. Unlike you, they've chosen to meet this fate as lambs for the slaughter. Weak and powerless."
He put a clawed hand on the warriors shoulder, gently at first, then squeezed just enough for his claws to dig in an draw a tiny bit of blood.
"What does the wolf do to the sheep, warrior?" He asked giving the orc an inquiring look, then abruptly let go of his shoulder.

"I must be alone now, and reflect upon our next step. Unless something you cannot deal with yourselves comes up, I do not wish to be disturbed until the trial of our ascendant brethren is complete." He said, before walking of to the edge of the settlement, the sight of the unsettled land comforting him. He sat down on the ground, relaxing and reveling in the embrace of the land around him. His first conversion had been tiring. Fruitful, but tiring. But with the horde behind him, it would only get easier from here on out...

[Inevitability]

As Karthog rests and meditates (with several warriors standing guard at a sizable distance), he can hear the sounds of dozens, no, hundreds of orcs being slaughtered. After a good ten minutes, the sounds cease.

Then only the most quiet sounds of nature remain: a few chattering squirrels, a tweeting bird, the hissing of a snake as it moves within inches of Karthog. All is well as nature slowly awakens.

Should we skip 24 hours ahead?

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog paid the snake no mind. It could bite and poison him if it wished to do so. If it happened, it happened. It would not kill him, and in return he would devour the snake. Animals lashing out at each other, nothing more.


Unless you plan something to happen during the 24 hours, sure. Karthog is just waiting to see how many of his recruits survive the ritual. (MAn, I hope at least some do. It would be terrible PR for the Mother if the first ritual killed all participants... :smalltongue:)

[Inevitability]

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]

[roll9]

The day and night pass by uneventlessy. Karthog sits and meditates without need for food and water, something that must certainly impress the orcs.

Then, as dawn arrives once more, Karthog turns to see six beastlike orcs approach him. Three of them are druids who sided with him from the beginning, two are warriors, and the last orc is, surprisingly, one of the druids who converted to the Great Mother at the last moment. His presence amongst the six chosen causes those he passes to turn and whisper.

The biggest of the new feral orcs, a warrior now almost as large as Karthog himself, speaks with a dry, growling voice:

"We have survived. We are strong. Praise be to the Mother."

The other warrior joins in.

"Lead us to blood!"

The loyal druids speak too.

"Two of us died, but it matters not."

"It is simply nature running its course, with no regards for the weak."

"But we, we have survived raid and ritual. What orc can match us now?"

Finally, the recently converted druid speaks:

"For a former heretic to be granted this... praise be to the Mother indeed!"

Many orcs come to see the new paragons of their kind. They admire their sharp claws, wicked teeth, bestial hide and bulging muscles. The four who did not survive are easily forgotten, their bodies carried off to be burned or buried with the ones who died in the attack on the town.

[gremlin-pult]

"Good." Karthog said, nodding with satisfaction. "Very good. You have accepted the Mother's touch in both body and soul, and have survived the trial she placed upon you. You are now free to become what you are meant to be. No longer will you be shackled by the weakness that laws, cities and morals place on your shoulders. Kill, and you will become stronger. Survive, as all beasts are meant to do, and you will become stronger. Serve as the Mother's horde, and you will become stronger."

"Remember, brothers and sisters!" He raised his voice and turned to the rest of the orcs. "I did not do this! The mother gave her gift to those who chose it, and those who where strong enough survived! I do not need to be present for you to initiate this ritual. Each of you can do it on your own, the choice is yours! Feast on the flesh of a civilized being you yourself has slain, and sacrifice the rest to the Mother! Then her gift will come! You can do it whenever you wish as we lay waste to the lands of the heretics all around us! I ask only that you do not sacrifice those who serve in the Horde with you! Even those who do not wish to undertake the ritual but still serve the Mother are her blessed children! Feast on the Heretics, for they are naught but meat for the Mother's children to hunt!"

He took another deep breath, and let out a bellow with his arms raised high. "NOW MY HORDE! WE GO FORTH TO THE NEXT SETTLEMENT OF OUR MISLED BRETHREN, TO LIBERATE THEM FROM THEIR HEATHEN WAYS, BY CONVERSION... OR BY THE BLADE! GO FORTH, HORDE! GO FORTH, AND GIVE BACK THE WORLD TO THE MOTHER!"

[Inevitability]

The orcs let loose a deafening roar and grab their weapons, clearly eager for blood, or perhaps a chance to become just like the orcs they now see before them.

"Lead us the way!" the crowd calls out. "Where does the Mother wish blood spilled?"

If you require information beyond the map, feel free to ask.

[gremlin-pult]

"We will convert all our kin one settlement at a time. Our next destination..." Karthog said to his true orcs, thinking for a moment about which settlement was closest. "...The Bone-eater tribe."


Well, I'm not sure how much extra information I'll need at the moment. Karthog's plan of action for now is to take his horde to each orc tribe and recruit all he can, while slaughtering the rest. efficiency, you know?

I guess if there's something special worth knowing about individual tribes and their customs, I'd like to know it as we get to them.

Besides that I don't think it's all that necessary until the Horde is ready and starts moving across the country's borders into other lands.

[Inevitability]

Some info on the Bone-Eaters:

The Bone-Eaters live near the warm ocean, where they live mostly on fish and seaweed. Their name comes from their custom to bite open fishbones and suck out the fluids inside. Even though they eat no actual bone, the large amounts of bite-marked bones one finds near their cities have caused many to assume they do.

The Bone-Eaters are more involved with the ocean than other orcs. They rarely venture far inland and are expert shipbuilders. Their druids are all of a rare orc bloodline able to breathe both water and air, and tame sharks and squids to assist them in their druidic duties.

Most orcish traders are Bone-Eaters. These orcs sometimes spend their entire lives on the same ship, not even leaving it when anchored in a harbor. Their lack of a home causes those in their city to call them 'stray bones'.

How's that?

The orcs set out northwest, heading for the Bone-Eater's territory. The first few days they travel over shrubland, which gradually turns into a dry landscape of dunes. The horde sustains itself by hunting and gathering, as well as by slaughtering a few of the stray animals they took with them. The druids use their magic to create water.

Then, at last, the orcs arrive at their destination. Built from whale bones, stone and driftwood, the city of Ribcage stands strong atop a dune. Several orcs are walking along the nearby shore, and a few of Karthog's horde hungrily stare at them.

"Voice of the Mother!" they call out. "Allow us to kill those heretics so we may become one of the Mother's favored!"

[gremlin-pult]

"No. Not yet." Karthog rumbled, his voice firm. "I will first speak to their warriors and druids. They will all be given the same choice that you where given. Serve the Mother, or be sustenance for the horde."

"Wait here, my horde. If they do not see the light, you will know to attack. True orcs, with me. I want them to see what our race is meant to be." He said, gesturing for the feral orcs to follow him. He then started towards Ribcage, eager to see if these orcs would be more open to the truth.

[Inevitability]

The druids and warriors already blessed by the Mother follow Karthog. Slowly, the seven of them make their way up the dune. The orcs outside or on the walls stare and point at them in surprise or awe.

Having arrived at the gate, a thin orc calls from above:

"Who are you, why are you here, and why do you have an army? Answer now!"

[gremlin-pult]

Cracking a toothy smile, karthog decided to humor the mouthy orc. "I am Karthog, Voice of the Mother of creation, The true Archdruid. I come to enlighten you upon the fact that your ways of venerating nature and the spirits is wrong. As long as you cling to the rules and trappings of society, you will always be committing heresy against the spirits and the Mother. This..." He gestured back towards the horde. "...Is the Mother's horde. Those who have seen the truth and cast aside all civilization to join me in my crusade against the civilized world that spurns the Mother's love and seeks to dominate her perfect world. For now they will stay where they are, while I go with my most devout followers, my True orcs, and bring her message to your warriors and druids. I seek only to show the truth to you who have been led astray."

[Inevitability]

"Let me get the druids. This sounds like something they should handle."

The gatekeeper disappears. His departure is followed by an albatross rising from within the city and flying towards the ocean, where the animal starts circling and screeching.

Within minutes, an orc with bluish skin emerges from the ocean. He wears leather armor made from shark hide and studded with dozens of shark teeth. In his right hand is a staff seemingly carved from a single whale bone.

In a thundering voice, the druid calls out:

"Who wishes to see me? Let him come to the beach, so we may speak of the things that concern us both."

[gremlin-pult]

Hmph, he at least seems closer to what he should be than most of the wretched heretics. Perhaps he will listen to reason... Karthog thought, and walked to the druid. When he was about 100 feet away from him, he made a dismissive gesture to his followers. "Stay here. I do not need your presence for these talks. simply stand here and let the heretics take in what you've become." He rumbled.

"Greetings, Druid." Karthog said as he walked over and stopped 10 feet away from the Bone-eater. "I am Karthog the Wildborn, Voice of the Mother and warchief of the Horde. I come bearing word that after aeons of leaving us to our own devices, the Mother of creation has returned to this world. She has judged the creatures living in this world, and found the... Civilized ones... sorely lacking. She is angered and saddened by the so called intelligent races' attempts to tame and civilize her perfect world. Therefore the world will be cleansed of civilization." He paused to take a breath, and to let his words sink in. "But, while we orcs have failed the Mother just like all others, we at least came closer to how the world was meant to be with our reverence of the spirits. So while we sadly still failed to interpret how the world is meant to work, she has given us a chance to serve. We will still perish, for the slate must be wiped clean, but we have the chance to serve as her tools in this cleansing, rather than die as heretics. So the choice of the orcs is simple. Either serve in the Mother's horde and claim the chance to be true orcs, or perish and suffer her wrath for eternity, even beyond death."

[Inevitability]

The orc, water splashing at his bare feet, looks at Karthog for a moment and takes in the orc's form. His gaze then wanders to his staff, which he moves from hand to hand. Only then does the druid look back to Karthog.

"Do you seek to frighten me, Karthog the Wildborn? Do you think I will now bow before you? Do you think I will open the doors to the city and let your horde in? I will not!

I invite you to attack. If you think the Bone-Eaters have never fought, then you are wrong. Great beasts of land and sea we fought, and humans, and gnomes, and other orcs too. You are just another warchief, with just another army. It shall scatter against our walls, it shall fall in combat with our forces, it shall be torn apart by the magic of my druids. I can see your army, and it will fail to defeat us.

I have nothing to say to you but this. Goodbye, Karthog the Wildborn."

With these words, the druid turns around and starts walking into the ocean.

[gremlin-pult]

"As you wish." Karthog said, looking at the druid's back. "You have declined the Mother, heretic. We shall how you fellow bone eaters feel about it when you lie dead in the water."

"Mother above, the heretics infest your seas. Let them know your fury, that is the storm!" He called out, raising hand first to the sky, and then let it fall down to point at the druid. As he chanted, the sky darkened above them, and the sea started to roil around the druid as the wind picked up sharply. With each passing second the wind got stronger, moving around the druid in the beginnings of a windstorm rotating around him.


Karthog casts Control winds, putting the 400 ft cylinder in the sea so it hits the druid, but not me. I dunno what wind strength it was before he cast the spell, but I imagine it could easily be "Strong wind, since wind is generally stronger near coastal areas. Anyway, I raise the wind force by 1 level for each 3 caster levels, so I raise it by 3 levels. That means it hits "Hurricane winds" if thenormal wind level was "Strong winds", and "Windstorm" level if the normal wind level was below "Strong winds". Both should be enough to lift him into the air, since Windstorm can uproot small buildings and trees.

But more importantly, I plan to use my Call lightning storm spell, and these wind levels should be enough to count as being outdoors in a stormy area, which increases it's damage from 5d6 pr bolt to 5d10.

I want to impress upon them the error of their ways, after all :smallamused:

[Inevitability]

The sky darkens and the wind suddenly starts blowing much harder. Waves the size of a man rear up and come crashing down again. Various seabirds above are blown away.

Amidst the stormy area, a large waterspout begins to form. Foam and mist splash up as the storm intensifies.

Yet despite all this raw elemental fury, the druid remains standing. He tries to shout something to Karthog, but his words can't be heard over the storm.

[roll0]

[Inevitability]

Karthog: [roll0]
Bone-Eater: [roll1]

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog ignored the other druid's shout. The heretic had made his choice, and would now pay the price.
Lifting his staff towards the heavens, he started chanting once more.
"Heavens above, heed my call. Let this sinner feel your wrath. For when the children deny their Mother, the skies weep tears of lightning!"
With a roar a thick bolt of lightning split the clouds, soaring down and crashing upon the druid. above them, more lightning rushed back and forth in the clouds, waiting to be unleashed.


Karthog casts call lightning storm. The first of 10 bolts hits the square the druid's in.
Dunno if it was 5d6 or 5d10 damage due to the weather, so I'll just roll both, then you can choose the one that fits.

[roll0]

[roll1]

[Inevitability]

[roll0]

The druid is struck by the lightning bolt. For a moment, the electricity courses through his body, then it is discharged into the ocean.

Rather than fight, Karthog's foe dives into the stormy water and disappears beneath the waves.

I'm fairly sure Karthog can't see through several dozen feet of stormy, foaming water, so he's lost sight of his foe.

[gremlin-pult]

"Hide in your ocean, traitor..." Karthog muttered, then turned his head towards the city. "...In the meantime I will see if your people is more receptive to my words..."


He moved over to his true orcs and past them in a brisk walk, gesturing for them to follow. "Their druids have made their choice. Now we see if their people are as foolish. We break their gate, and do not harm those who surrender. Everyone else will serve as sacrifices. Go to the horde, spread the word." He said without looking back at them even once.
As soon as he was within striking distance of the fate, he pointed his staff at it. With every step closer her took, with every swing of his staff, a lightning bolt soared down and struck the gate. He was done with words.


So yeah, Karthog basically shoots all his lightning bolts at the gate until he runs out. That's nine bolts. Hopefully it's enough to break it, and instill some holy terror in those inside.

[Inevitability]

Bolt after bolt strikes the gate. The orcs standing guard either scatter or are fried by the lightning. At last, the bones break under the great temperatures, and the way into the city is open. Karthog's orcs surge towards the gate, screaming in frenzy.

It is then that Karthog notices something. In a calmer area of the ocean, many crocodiles are surfacing. The reptiles swing their scaly tails from side to side as they charge towards Karthog.

Karthog: [roll0]
14 crocodiles: [roll1]

The crocodiles are about sixty feet away from Karthog, who has no lightning bolts left.

[gremlin-pult]

As he watched the crocodiles charging towards him, Karthog simply let out a derisive snort. Dropping his staff and his cloak to the ground, he let the Mother's power corse through him once more, growing to his more bestial form.
With a wave of his hand, he started summoning hunting companions of his own.
"Come to me, great hunters of the steppes. Lend me your fangs and your fury." He growled.
As he chanted, three great wolves started manifesting around him, howling to the skies.


Karthog spends a swift action to shift into Ferocious slayer form, and then converts his prepared "Dispel magic" into a Spontaneous "Summon nature's ally IV", with which he summons three direwolves.

[Inevitability]

Karthog begins casting his spell, and the crocodiles, sensing the opening, rush forward. Karthog, however, easily avoids their attacks without losing his focus on his magic.

Four of the crocodiles can charge far enough to reach Karthog. The others are a bit further behind.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Attack: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

Attack: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

For every hit, Karthog must make a concentration check with a DC of 10 + damage taken.

[Inevitability]

Did you already roll for the number of wolves? I'd rather you did it in this thread.

[roll0]

[Inevitability]

With snapping jaws and a ferocious appearance, a single wolf appears next to Karthog. The animal howls and sinks its fangs in the side of a crocodile, then drags it on its side.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Trip wolf: [roll2]
Trip crocodile: [roll3]

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog looked at the crocodiles as they tried to bite through his hide, then sweeped out his claws in a casual motion to keep them at bay o he could summon more of nature's power.
"Everything in nature is harsh and unforgiving. Even the air itself can have fearsome teeth if need be."


About the wolves, no I did not roll a d3. My head kinda glossed over the fact that I had to roll instead of just getting 3 of them. Sorry.

Anyway, Karthog attempts to cast vortex of teeth, with himself safely in the center. But first a concentration check (DC 19) to cast defensively.

cast defensively: [roll0]

Now if the spell succeeds, all the gator's within 40 ft will take 3d8 force damage at the start of each of my turns, for 10 turns. Death by spectral piranhas! Muahahaha!

[Inevitability]

Karthog finishes casting the spell, and thousands of frenzied spectral fish appear in the air.

Then, the remaining crocodiles reach Karthog. Half of them focus on the druid, the other half attacks his summoned wolf instead.

On Karthog:

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]

[roll8]
[roll9]

[roll10]
[roll11]

[roll12]
[roll13]

[roll14]
[roll15]

On the wolf:

[roll16]
[roll17]

[roll18]
[roll19]

[roll20]
[roll21]

[roll22]
[roll23]

[roll24]
[roll25]

[roll26]
[roll27]

[roll28]
[roll29]

[roll30]
[roll31]

Karthog suffers light wounds from the crocodiles' attacks while the wolf is killed and disappears.

Then, however, the cyclone of teeth created by Karthog begins to tear into the crocodiles. Large chunks of flesh are torn away from the screeching beasts' flesh, and the reptile already wounded by Karthog's wolf expires.

[roll32]

Karthog takes 14 points of damage.

[gremlin-pult]

With the magic around him busily ripping the Crocodiles apart, Karthog felt little need to go all out on them. He did lash out with his claws on the ones who actually managed to bite through his hide.


One claw attack on each of the crocodiles who hit Karthog.

Claw 1
Attack: [roll0]
Crit confirm: [roll1]
damage: [roll2]
crit damage: [roll3]

Claw 2
​Attack: [roll4]
Crit confirm: [roll5]
damage: [roll6]
crit damage: [roll7]



Ooh, the second attack is a crit! Nice! I hope it's confirmed on 19.

[Inevitability]

Karthog lashes out with his claws. One of the crocodiles is completely torn limb from limb, the other 'merely' has its body cut open and collapses.

More crocodiles rush in to take the place of the fallen, then attack Karthog en masse. Not one of them actually hurts the druid.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Attack: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

Attack: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

Attack: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]

Attack: [roll10]
Damage: [roll11]

Attack: [roll12]
Damage: [roll13]

Attack: [roll14]
Damage: [roll15]

All the while, the spectral jaws keep tearing and biting at the crocodiles, dislodging scales and spilling blood. The continuous wounding proves too much, and the crocodiles collapse from blood loss. For a moment, Karthog stands amidst a sea of corpses, then the bodies disappear.

[roll16]

[gremlin-pult]

Snorting in disdain at the pathetic display, Karthog licked some of the blood from his wounds as he watched them heal and grow smalle by the second. This kind of damage was less than the sting of gnats.
"Is this how you fight!?" He bellowed out at the sea. "Hiding like cowards, while the victims of your lies and heresy are slaughtered like the sheep you've turned them into! You only prove that your ways are weak and wrong! The Mother gave you one chance to see the truth, and you squandered it! Now you and all your followers will pay for it! Know that the blood of those too young and naive to believe anything but your words is on your hands alone!"

[Inevitability]

No answer comes from the ocean but the roaring wind and crashing waves.

Meanwhile, Karthog's horde has reached the city gates. It's hard to hear over the fierce storm behind Karthog, but they seem to be chanting the Mother's name. Resistance from the walls is either sparse or completely absent.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog decided to leave the cowardly sea druids be, for now. If they stayed in the ocean, the Mother and her kin would send another calamity to punish them suitably. He walekd over to the city, and in through the gate.
He looked around at the glorious massacre wrought by the faithful, and took a deep breath.
"HOOOORDE!" He roared. "KILL ALL WHO RESIST, AND CAPTURE THOSE WHO DO NOT RESIST! THEIR SPINELESS HERETIC LEADERS DO NOT SPEAK FOR ALL OF THEM! THEY WILL BE GIVEN THE CHOICE PERSONALLY TO SERVE IN THE HORDE, OR AS FUEL FOR YOUR ASCENDANCE!"

[Inevitability]

The raging battle is momentarily interrupted by Karthog's roar. Orcs, friend and foe alike, hear his words. The prospect of surrender proves attractive, as all over the city small battles cease as the Bone-Eaters involved in them yield.

With no further action from the druids, and no organized resistance, the battle is soon won. Many corpses litter the city: some of Karthog's orcs but most of Bone-Eaters. Karthog's orcs begin rounding up and disarming the Bone-Eaters who have surrendered and lead them to outside the city.

Suddenly, an raven swoops down from the skies and lands next to Karthog, where it changes into one of his druids. She bows briefly, then reports:

"The harbor area has been secured, Voice of the Mother. However, a ship filled with heretics is escaping as we speak. You need but command and I will carry your orders back to the orcs there."

[gremlin-pult]

"Hmm... Pursuing Bone-eaters in ships would be a fools errand. We do not have half the skill with those filthy wooden contraptions that they do." Karthog muttered, scratching his jaw. "No matter. they are only delaying the inevitable. In time they too will be purged. I am not the only one, after all. Each of the Mother's kin have set their own calamities loose upon this world. We will focus on this, for now. Round up all the imprisoned. They will be given one chance, all at the same time, to join us. And then we will use those who remain stubborn as fuel for a new ritual of ascendance."

[Inevitability]

The druidess nods, casts a simple spell, then turns into a raven once more. She takes off and swiftly flies over the buildings before disappearing from Karthog's view.

Some time later, she returns, now accompanied by a few dozen warriors and druids, as well as nearly thirty prisoners. They are brought outside the city, where the other prisoners are too.

[gremlin-pult]

"Some of you know why I am here." Karthog said loudly to the assembled prisoners. "Others have been kept ignorant. I care not. I grow tired of explaining my purpose and the Mother's decree to those who repeatedly show themselves stubborn, stupid and traitorous. Unworthy filth. Your druids have fled before the might she has granted me, leaving you to suffer for their heresy. You have seen what my true orcs are capable of, and I say that you all have the chance to be thusly remade into beings closer to nature and to the Mother's ideals." He continued, weary of so many of his people denying the truth.
"You have one chance. Serve in the horde, or die to strengthen those who will. Be loyal... Or be fuel."

[Inevitability]

A great number of orcs is quick to declare their newfound allegiance to the Great Mother. Several others, however, refuse. They are quickly carried off by ambitious orcs to be sacrificed and consumed.

A rough estimate indicates that another seven hundred have joined the horde, with perhaps a quarter of that number refusing to join.

[gremlin-pult]

"Good. The horde grows..." Karthog said with satisfaction.

"Now, no time to tarry. For each heretic captured, a ritual can be made. You know how it is done. See to it." He continued, motioning for the nearest true orc to carry out his orders "Get the rest of the horde prepared to move out. Take food and such from the city, and burn all else to the ground. And put a few groups on guard along the beach in case the cowards decide to resurface. If they do, do not engage them, but bring word to me. That is all. We move on tomorrow when the rituals are complete."

[Inevitability]

There is no lack of volunteers for the ritual, and several hundred of Karthogs horde; druids, warriors and servant alike take a prisoner. Their dying screams sound, then fade away.

Other orcs begin plundering the city. Food, clothing, medical supplies and other useful items are all gathered. Then, heaps of dry dune grass are piled up in the city and set ablaze by a few druidic fire spells. Ribcage burns, then ceases to be. All that remains is a scorched dune littered with charred bone and rock.

One of the true orcs selects some warriors and servants and stations them on the beach. A few horses found in the Bone-Eater's city are given to them, so that they can travel towards the horde quickly if need be. The other animals are either eaten or taken along so that they may be butchered later on.

Night falls, and Karthog's orcs make camp and go to sleep. A few of the converted Bone-Eaters can be seen carving bone trinkets. Others tell stories, eat, or pray to the Mother.


Then, in the early morning, Karthog is roughly disturbed. A rider charges into the camp. About half on his way to Karthog, he collapses and falls off the horse, which stops once it notices no one is riding it anymore.

Many orcs rush towards the fallen figure.

[gremlin-pult]

"Move." Karthog commanded, shouldering his way past the orcs over to the prone scout. "This one is not finished with his duties... Let him be healed." He muttered, waving a hand over the orc and channeling a smidgen of healing energy into him.
It would not do to have him fall unconscious or die before giving his message.

"What happened?" He prompted, looking at the scout with his fiery gaze.


Basically, Karthog converts a use of the level 1 spell "Spider hand" into a spontaneous cure spell. So a cure light wounds.
HP regained: [roll0]

Scratch that, it's clerics that can do that, not druids. A little brain fart. He DOES have cure minor wounds prepared, however, so stabilixing the orc if necessary will have to be enough.

[Inevitability]

Upon closer inspection, the orc seems to be one of the guards stationed on the beach yesterday. His face is pained and dozens of tiny bleeding wounds cover his body.

Karthog's healing closes the wounds and ends the bleeding, and an onrushing druid gets the orc back up. The moment he reaches consciousness, the messenger begins speaking.

"Voice of the Mother, I bring dire news! Thousands of bats attacked those stationed on the beach not long ago. Our weapons and armor were useless against them, and I could barely escape to share this important news with you!"

[gremlin-pult]

"Rest now, little one. You have done well." Karthog said, putting a hand on the scout's shoulder. "I will handle this myself."
Karthog then started walking in the direction that the scout came from, His body changing as he walked. It grew leaner, the amrs and legs elongating slightly and his body hair thickening. He face took on an almost wolfish cast.
When the transformation finished, he dropped his staff and got down on all fours. "Bring the true orcs, and follow me after a few minutes. I will be done when you arrive to mop up any stragglers." He snarled at the female druid who had adressed him earlier. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, his bestial instincts reacting to her.
Hmm, perhaps conversion is not the only way to grow our numbers... Yes, true orcs will grow to maturity in a matter of months, rather than years, like true predators. This will be worth looking into when we are on the move once more. The horde will grow unstoppable...

With that he set of on all fours, his long loping gait letting him cover ground faster than any horse. When he eventually arrived some distance from the swarm of bats, he muttered a prayer to the Mother, and cast a blessing upon himself.
"Mother, let me go unharmed in the depths of winter that I am about to send upon these beasts..."
Thus the first step in his three part plan was done.


Karthog shifts into predator form, which gives him a speed of 60 ft. Then he simply runs in the direction of this bat menace.

Once there he casts Sheltered vitality on himself while still a few hundred feet away, which makes him immune to fatigue, exhaustion, ability drain and ability damage.

His next two steps in the plan is to first cast Blizzard, which will have a radius of 100 ft/lvl, which means 1000 ft. That should be a big enough radius to catch all the bats when they converge on him. And since he has a constant endure elements, he is sufficiently protected from the nonlethal damage of the blizzard.
Then he'll cast blood snow on the blizzard around him, causing all the bats to be hit by 1d2 con drain every turn for 9 turns unless they succeed on a DC 17 Fort save. Oh, and they also have to make a DC 20 Fort save every round to avoid taking nonlethal cold damage from the blizzard itself.
Karthog himself will be immune to the con drain, thanks to Sheltered vitality.

In short, this combination of three spells should be more than enough to decimate the bat swarm(s), or at least weaken them horribly. Especially since it lasts for 9 turns all in all.

[Inevitability]

Karthog arrives after a minute of running, but there are no bat swarms to be seen anymore. It is clear they were here not too long ago, though.

The beach is muddy with the blood of dead orcs, whose corpses are scattered everywhere. Some are clutching weapons, others don't. The other horse given to this group is dead too, its reins still tied to a rock.

In the midst of the carnage, Karthog notices a strange pattern of driftwood and stones. After a moment, he realizes what he's looking at: a message in the language of druids, taught to him long ago by his former master.

This war is not over, traitor.

The sound of the crashing waves, ever present since the horde arrived here, now almost sounds malicious.

[gremlin-pult]

As he looked around at the corpses littering the beach, Karthog's gaze eventually settled on the message left by the heretics.
He began to breathe deeply and more raggedly by the second, as rage soared through him.
His horde, killed by filthy heretics? Butchered by those who spit in the face of the Mother's mercy?
Stomping his feet and clawing at the air, he let loose a howl of pure, undiluted fury. He kept roaring and howling until he ran out of breath. He then gulped down another deep breath, and continued.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT? YOU THINK YOU CAN DISRESPECT THE MOTHER? THIS IS NOT A WAR, HEATHEN SCUM! THIS IS A RIGHTEOUS MASSACRE OF YOUR VERY BEING, OF ALL THAT DEFINE YOU! THIS IS THE END OF DAYS! AND I. WILL. FIND YOOUU!" He roared at the sea, announcing his sentence upon them for all the world to hear.

[Inevitability]

The distant cry of an albatross sounds. The waves continue to crash, unaffected by Karthog's fury.

At last, the true orcs arrive. They see the carnage and do not approach further, waiting for their leader to address them.

[gremlin-pult]

"Gather the horde." Karthog said, his voice eerily calm. "We go immediately to the next settlement. And this time there will be no negotiation. We only make them aware that surrendering is an option. We slaughter those who resist, and capture the rest. Then they will get to choose to be faithful or be sacrificed."
He then turned and started walking back to where his people waited.

[Inevitability]

Karthog's horde begins to travel towards the next city.

Where exactly do you want to go?

To the west is the city of the Rock-Breakers, a group of orcs whose mountainous fortress is focused on mining. They trade with the Yuzcu kingdom.

To the south is the small town of the Wolf-Brothers, a group of orcs focused on taming, breeding and even riding wolves. They're fearsome combatants and loyal to their ways.

To the east is the first city Karthog devastated. Further east is the orcish capital, belonging to the Spirit-Speakers.

[gremlin-pult]

After some time spent thinking, Karthog decided to lead the horde towards the Wolf-brother settlement. He wanted a few more faithful and ideally some more true orcs before tackling the more fortified Rock-breaker city, and the capital he would save for last. The high druids would be the last to meet their fate.

[Inevitability]

The orcs move south for a few days, easily adapting the life of a traveling army. Boars are hunted and eaten, plants are gathered, and the animals from the Bone-Eater city are slaughtered.

About half a day's travel north from the Wolf-Brother settlement, Karthog's march is interrupted by three orcs mounted on great wolves. They appear from behind a hill and turn to the horde with no apparent surprise.

One of them speaks:

"For half a day have we followed you. Why do you enter Wolf-Brother lands fully armed, fellow orcs? Has war broken out and have we not heard?"

[gremlin-pult]

"Not war." Karthog said, raising one clawed hand toward them. "Purification."

"Roots of the earth, heed my call!" He called out, and around the wolf riders, thick roots sprung from the ground, moving to entangle and trap both the orcs and their steeds.

"Bring them to me." He then said to his followers, not taking his gaze of the Wolf-brothers.


Karthog casts entangle on the wolf riders. Both orcs and wolves need to make a DC 16 reflex save or be entangled.

[Inevitability]

Mounts and riders alike are held into place by the thorny vines that suddenly raise. While several wolves remain unentangled, they do not flee.

To Karthog's warriors, the fierce animals are just a minor inconvenience, though. A true orc cuts down two, with the masses killing the other four. The orcs are then subdued and brought before Karthog. One of them spits a curse in orcish.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog exhaled loudly, growling at the sight of the dead wolves. "Did I tell you to kill the wolves?" He asked the nearest orc. Before he could answer, however, Karthog lashed out with a vicious backhand, throwing the poor sap to the ground.
"I did not." He snarled "When I say to bring them to me, I mean all of them. Those wolves are closer to what the Mother intended than any orc. They will be worthy allies of the new horde, the forces of nature at our side."

"That is something the Wolf-brothers have got right. Pity that they break them instead of truly being alphas to the beasts. But that will be rectified." He continued, walking over and crouching down to eye level with the wolf brother who had adressed them to begin with. "Tell me, would you not wish to truly be kin of the wolves? To truly be part of the wild?"

[Inevitability]

The orc has barely a moment to realize its error before Karthog slaps it to the ground. For a moment, fury gleams in her eyes and her hand moves to her flail, but then she seems to remember the burned druids, or perhaps the mutilated warriors who thought they could stand up to Karthog. She stands, turns, and walks away.

The Wolf-Brother is surprised to be addressed by Karthog.

"You are much like a wolf, orc who leads this army. A wolf is strong. A wolf will use force to make those below him obey. A wolf would understand that these animals your orcs brought down should have lived.

But a wolf should also understand we are loyal to none but our own. If you think you can make us join you, you are wrong."

The orc stares at Karthog with a determined look. Some of the other captives, however, look less defiant.

[gremlin-pult]

"You speak wisely, little one." Karthog said, looking at him with something akin to respect. "But not entirely correct. A wolf is loyal to it's pack. And a pack follows the alpha. You speak for this group. That makes you the alpha." He continued. Then, with a sudden jerk of his arm, he drove his claws into the orcs throat, tearing at it to rip it out.


So this is basically a coup de grace, I suppose. Which means he has to make fort save to survive.

the DC is:
[roll0]

[Inevitability]

The orc gasps as his throat is torn out, coughs up blood, then slumps to the ground dead.

His companions stare at the corpse, then at Karthog's bloody claw. One of them quickly says:

"I shall join you! I shall join your pack! You are strong indeed!"

The other captives are quick to state the same.

[gremlin-pult]

"Good." Karthog said with a smile. "You will do three things for me. You will bring me to the leader of your tribe. I will defeat him, and claim the position of alpha. Then you will free all your wolves. I will appeal to their instincts, and try to have them join me in reclaiming the world for the Mother, and if they will not we will let them go. They will not be tame pets of orcs anymore. Lastly, you will take the rite of ascension."

[Inevitability]

"What is this rite you speak of?" one of the captives asks.

[gremlin-pult]

"It is the Mother's way of freeing you from the chains of civilization, and make you what you where meant to be." Karthog explained. He motioned towards the nearest true orc. "You will sacrifice a follower of civilization, partake in his flesh and blood, and you will be transformed. You will either become like us, true orcs worthy of the Mother's untamed lands... Or you will die, if you are not strong enough."

[Inevitability]

The thought of eating their brethren's flesh clearly disturbs the captives. However, the idea of being eaten alive does so too, and they keep silent.

Then, one speaks:

"We agree. We shall lead you to the others, as long as they are given the chance to join you. We shall not condone their slaughter."

[gremlin-pult]

"That is not your choice to make." Karthog said to the wolf-brothers. "All orcs are given the chance to see the truth and join the mother's horde. All who deny her are slaughtered. So the choice is entirely in their hands."

[Inevitability]

"...We accept."

The Wolf-Brothers lead Karthog through the forested terrain. Eventually, they arrive at a crude settlement, both smaller and more primitive than those the orc has seen before. A pallisade surrounds wooden huts. Burly orcs with wolves stand guard, and more orcs can be seen moving around through the gate.

[gremlin-pult]

"Bring out your chieftain. I will challenge him in front of your whole tribe." Karthog told the captive orcs. While he waited for the chieftain to arrive, he studied the settlement of the wolf-brothers. They where primitive, closer to the Mother's ideals than most. They would likely be more receptive than most to the true ways of nature.

[Inevitability]

The converted orc carefully walks towards his settlement. Several of the orcs outside the walls look up as they notice what's going on: an army of orcs with bloodlust in their eyes has appeared near their town.

Minutes pass, but eventually a response arrives. A huge orc covered in shaggy gray hair, rivaling even Karthog in size, stomps through the gates, followed by hundreds of other orcs. He roars a challenge:

"Who dares challenge me? Who thinks they are more powerful? I'll crush them!"

[gremlin-pult]

"I Karthog Wildborn challenge you, chieftain. And I do not think I am stronger than you, I know. I am blessed by the Mother of creation, and serve her in reclaiming the world from the stain that is civilization. Your people, like all orcs, are given the chance to serve her equally. But seeing as you think more like wolves than like orcs, something that I find commendable, makes it clear to me that they will be more open to the words of their alpha, than the words of an outsider. Thus, I claim your title." Karthog said calmly, throwing of his wolf cloak and dropping his staff on top of it.
Immediately after, he unleashed the power within him, and grew in size and strength, until his feral, bearlike form gazed down on the orcs around him once more.
"I fight you from the start in my true form given to me by the Mother, chieftain. To hold back my strength would be to dishonor yours." He snarled, his voice infinitely more powerful and loud now, brimming with savage strength and vitality. "And I will not use the magic that she has granted me. This will be a test of strength alone. But know that should you yield to me, I will accept it. Death is not a certainty today. Only for those who deny the Mother."

[Inevitability]

The giant orc stares up at Karthog's bestial form, not a hint of fear in his eyes. A dry, old laugh escapes his mouth.

"You'll fight me in your true form? Very well! I suppose I should as well, shouldn't I?"

The orc brashly steps forward. As he does so, he begins to grow. His gray hair envelops his entire body, his teeth grow sharper, his eyes yellow. A wolvish howl sounds as the wolf-orc, now rivaling Karthog in size, draws a glowing axe and bares his fangs.

"You speak of deities and surrender, but tell me: what do you see here?

Here are no gods! Here are no lords! This here is nature! Beast against beast! Orc against orc! No surrendering, no deceit, nothing but steel and fang! If you are like me: if you are truly fit to lead this pack, you should know that!"

The Wolf-Brothers cheer. Some of them throw their heads backwards and howl, others raise spears and swords upwards as they clear an area for the two monstrous leaders to fight.

[gremlin-pult]

"You... You have Her blessing..." Karthog growled, his red eyes narrowing, blazing with anger. "Yet you wield the manufactured weapons of heretics and enslave proud wolves to your will? Raaugh, you spit in the face of her mercy and bring shame to true orcs! I will rip of your arm as penance!" He howled in rage, and charged toward the chieftain, his claws digging furrows in the ground as he loped forward.


So I guess it's initiative, then.

[roll0]

Karthog's current AC is 33.
He gains 8 from his improved natural armor, and -1 from increasin a size category.

[Inevitability]

"I have no one's blessing! I don't fight because someone lets me, I fight because I want to!"

Karthog's adversary roars once more and prepares to begin the fight.

[roll0]

[Inevitability]

The wolvish berserker rushes forward, bringing his axe down in an immensely powerful attack that tears Karthog's flesh. His servants cry out in joy.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1], multiplied by two.

Ouch. That one hurt.

Before you ask: the damage is indeed magical.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog roared in pain and fury as the axe tore into his body. So much pain!
It was intense, and he staggered from the blow, but then abruptly stood upright with a mad feral grin stretched across his face.
"You call this pain?!" He growled loudly, as the flesh around the wound started to visibly knit itself together, slowly but surely. "Bah! Nothing is more intense, or more blessed than the pain of being remade in the Mother's image!"

With another howl he lashed out at the chieftain, tooth and claw soaring forward with lethal intent.


A full attack coming up from Karthog. Let's hope I can crit too, maybe :smalltongue: (Seriously, Karthog may keep up his bluster, but still... Friggin OW!)

Oh well, at least he heals 4 HP from fast healing.

A little note. I realised that when Karthog goes into ferocious predator form, he gains a bite attack and grows 1 size category. He has his claw attacks even when not transformed. Which means that the size growth also makes his claw attacks grow in damage from 1d8 to 2d6 when he transforms. Hadn't thought about that until now.

Bite
attack: [roll0]
damage: [roll1]
crit confirm: [roll2]
extra crit damage: [roll3]

Claw 1
attack: [roll4]
damage: [roll5]
crit confirm: [roll6]
extra crit damage: [roll7]

claw 2
attack: [roll8]
damage: [roll9]
crit confirm: [roll10]
extra crit damage: [roll11]




And both the bite attack and second claw attack are critical hits! Nice! At least I hope that 21 is enough to confirm the first crit. I'm pretty sure that Claw2 is confirmed on 31.
Either way, that's a decent amount of damage. Not quite 70 damage in one strike, but hey, He's not actually built for melee specifically
(Seriously, your hit just did an indecent amount of damage! Friggin OW!:smalleek:)

[Inevitability]

The raging orc suffers three strong blows from Karthog, but continues his assault, this time with even more berserk fury. Fortunately, Karthog manages to withstand both of the monster's epic blows.

Greataxe:

Attack 1: [roll0]
Attack 2: [roll1]
Damage1: [roll2]
Damage2: [roll3]

Yeah, I may have over-optimized this guy a bit. Headlong Rush especially might've been overkill.

Then again, I wasn't expecting you to forgo all buffing and spells in this fight.

[gremlin-pult]

Smiling savagely at the thought of fighting a really dangerous opponent, Karthog rip into the chieftain with even more fury, even as his own flesh continues to knit itself together.


Another round of Bite/claw/claw. It's really too bad that the enemy is large like Karthog and not medium sized. Karthog could use the extra edge from his Improved grab/rake abilities.

Bite
attack: [roll0]
damage: [roll1]
crit confirm: [roll2]
extra crit damage: [roll3]

Claw 1
attack: [roll4]
damage: [roll5]
crit confirm: [roll6]
extra crit damage: [roll7]

claw 2
​attack: [roll8]
damage: [roll9]
crit confirm: [roll10]
extra crit damage: [roll11]

[Inevitability]

Karthog's monstrous foe roars in pain and frustration as Karthog's claws tear into him. It steps forward and raises the axe again, then suddenly stops moving, gasps, and falls face-first into the dirt. The Wolf-Brothers gasp in surprise as they see their leader fall, while Karthog's orcs cheer.

The massive orc appears unresponsive, but the coarse breathing makes clear it still lives. The orcs quiet down upon realizing this and silently wait for Karthog to do something.

[gremlin-pult]

With a heavy sigh Karthog reached down and grabbed the chieftain by the scruff of his neck. The muscles in his arm bulged as he lifted the wounded orc up to eye level with a mighty heave.
"You are indeed strong. The closest I've seen to a true orc since my awakening, and you have yet to even go through the ritual of ascendance. The Mother has blessed you indeed, whether you accept it or not. It is such a shame that you are content with living freely on your own, instead of using your strength to make the world the wild place it is meant to be..." He said loudly, staring the chieftain in the face, and then letting his gaze sweep across the wolf-brothers.

"Why is it that you cling so much to your misguided notion of freedom, and instantly rejected my offer? All I wish is to make you truly free, and ask your help in making the world thus. I wish only to enlighten all that walks the lands. I do not wish to kill you, not when your natural affinity for the Mother's creation is so strong... I ask again, little brother. Join me. Let your wolves be truly free, and lead your kin in ascending to your true selves. Only then can you truly run alongside the predators of this world... Drink the blood of civilization. Devour the flesh of the sheep. Claim your destiny!" He continued, his gaze making another sweep of the crowd, before settling on the chief once more.

[Inevitability]

The orc is unresponsive, though his gaze indicates he can hear Karthog fine.

"Kill the weak one! Kill him now!" a few of the Wolf-Brothers suddenly cheer. Some more join them. Karthog's orcs remain silent, clearly unwilling to join the chanting without knowing what their leader will do.

[gremlin-pult]

As the wolf-brothers started calling for their chief's death, Karthog took a deep breath, letting it out as an angry snort. His eyes glowed a hellish red as he glared at the assembled orcs.
"SILENCE!" He roared suddenly, spittle flying as he growled and bared his fangs and tusks agressively at the offenders. "How dare you? He is stronger than any of you here! He fights with power and savagery, closer to his true nature than any of you weaklings! And as soon as he is beaten you call for his death?"
Karthog howled fiercely, a feral, guttural sound that came from the pit of his stomach.
"And you dare order me to take his life? death without reason is the way of the filthy worms who seek to tame nature! A true child of the mother kills only when it is necessary! And NEVER!... WHEN THEY... ARE ORDERED TO BY PREY!"
He yelled, each of his last words punctuated by a stomp of his foot and a flash of his evil eyes.
Calming down slightly, he let go of the chief, letting him fall to the ground.
"Wolves do not fight to the death unless they have no other choice. Your chief fought like a wolf, a worthy orc. I will not kill him unless he challenges me. If you are wise and in tune with your instincts, you will know in your hearts that the Mother's way is the true one."

[Inevitability]

The cheering crowd falls silent at Karthog's outburst. A few appear somewhat embarrassed at their earlier cheering.

Then, one orc steps forward from the mass that was cheering for the orc chief's death just now. A sly smile creeps across his lips, and his bald head bears a massive straight scar. The strange orc is not physically intimidating by any means: he's smaller than most orcs, unarmed, and unarmored. Even so, Karthog's instincts pick up an air of danger.

"Allow me to suggest a different course of action. You will tear open that orc's throat. You will kill him. You will do so now. It is the only way to gain these orcs' respect."

Failure results in Karthog being affected by a Suggestion to attack the downed orc. It's up to you whether you consider this something he'd do if affected by that spell.

Failure allows Karthog to realize what's happening.

The enemy orc continues laying silently, his hairy neck exposed.

The orc seems to be unnaturally still. Even a creature playing dead would be making small movements, but the vanquished wolf-orc only seems to be breathing.

Possibly, the immobility is the result of magic.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog glared at the newcomer. He felt... something...


Will save: [roll0]

spot check: [roll1]


"Yes..." Karthog said looking down at the chieftain. His eyes narrowed and flashed red once more as he felt the attempted takeover of his mind being shredded by a small exertion of his powerful will. "Yes, his death seems to be what you all crave..."
He raised one hand to the sky, claws spread wide and his palm pointing upwards.
"Then let it be known, that by the Mother's will, those who oppose her will feel the full fury of the heavens themself." He chanted slowly. As he felt his magic gather above him in the roiling clouds, his gaze snapped over to the new orc, and a wicked, toothy smile spread across his face.
"And that none other than She commands my might!" He roared. And with that he unleashed the spell, raining a pillar of fire and godly fury down on the one who had dared to try and influence his mind.


Karthog casts flamestrike on the manipulative orc. The reflex DC to halve the damage is 19.
I'll roll the damage in the OOC, so I won't have to make a double post here just for that.

[Inevitability]

[roll0]

A pillar of divine fire suddenly strikes down, shrouding the mysterious orc (as well as two nearby Wolf-Brothers) with green flames. When they clear, all that remains are three charred corpses.

The two Wolf-Brother's corpses look like one would expect charred orcish bodies to look. However, Karthog's target has left rather different remains.

Where one would expect to see bloody flesh, there are only patches of greenish-blue slime slowly trickling down the corpse. The orc's skull has been split over the scar's length, and more of the fluid drips from there. A thin cord of what seems to be muscle hangs from the crack, almost entirely annihilated by the fire.

The other orcs recoil, at first in fear, then in revulsion as they see what exactly it was Karthog just killed. A few rush towards the burned orcs, but most only have eyes for the slimy corpse now lying motionlessly.

The chief of the Wolf-Brothers, down at Karthog's feat, groans and turns over. He then rises and silently looks at Karthog's victim.

[gremlin-pult]

"Seems one of your wolves had worms, chieftain." Karthog rumbled. he then turned his back on the wolf-brothers and started walking back to his own.
"You've seen the true, untamed power the Mother grants those who serve her will in freeing the lands. And you've seen what happens to those who oppose her will." He called back over his shoulder as he shrank while walking.
When he reached his own kin, he reclaimed his wolfskin and his staff.
"You have until dawn to choose. Either you become part of the Mother's horde..." He said calmly.
"... Or you get trampled under our feet like all who cling to the trappings of false gods."

[Inevitability]

The Wolf-Brother chieftain firmly places a large, claw-like hand on Karthog's shoulder, and speaks:

"I am Verthak Bloodclaw, Chieftain of the Wolf-Brothers! Never has this tribe been bound! When the other orcs warred, we remained here, unbothered by their quarrels. When the humans invaded, we drove them back! When desert monsters sought to enslave us, we killed them all!

But despite my strength, I do not command the tribe. I, like any other, have the right to fight over matters that concern me, but never have I prevented them from following their desires. Never have I stopped them from leaving, or denied them their rights to fight.

I can't speak for these orcs. I can't make them join you, because that would mean I'd be serving you and your ideals. Never has a Bloodclaw served another, and never will one.

However, while I do not serve you, I do respect you. Never have I met one of your power, and while you could kill me when I was under that mystic's spell you did not. You power, whether it is yours or some god's, is fearsome indeed. If your ideals were meaningless, you would not be wielding the power.

You could send your orcs at mine tomorrow. We would fight. Perhaps you would win, perhaps I would. But I suggest something else.

I shall take those of mine willing to follow me and go east and spread my own ideas: ideas of freedom. You would return north and fight your battles there. Both of us will grow stronger, both of us will test our ideals, both of us will slay those monsters in orcish shapes should we meet more. And when we meet again at last, we shall fight. That time, there will be no interruptions. That time, we shall see which of us is right: your faith or my freedom."

[gremlin-pult]

"Hmm... You do not go the way the Mother envisions, chieftain." Karthog said, stroking his braided beard thoughtfully. "But I will not stop you. Whether it happens by my hand or that of another calamity, all in this world will die in the coming days. That, no one can change. I simply gather those who wish to hasten the end, in the hope of being looked upon favorably by the Mother in the afterlife and truly embrace her vision. So go, chieftain. And if we meet again, it will be for you to become the ground on which the Heralds of the end thread. You will not be spared next time." He continued, before walking away from him.

"Hooorde!" He roared to his assembled followers. "There is no more for us here today! Tomorrow we move on, to raze the next false city of heathens! Any wolf-brother remaining tomorrow who does not commit to the Mother, however, is fuel! But for tonight, we leave them be! The end will come to them no matter what! I HAVE SPOKEN!"

[Inevitability]

The chieftain laughs wordlessly as he walks away. The two burned Wolf-Brother corpses he heaves on his shoulders and carries with him, the slime-covered body is left to rot (assuming any beast dares eat it).

Karthog's horde slowly approaches their leader. Some seems surprised, others disappointed. However, none protest Karthog's decision.

The night passes by mostly uneventfully. Come dawn, the chieftain, followed by several hundred of his people and a large number of wolves, leave their settlement and begin to travel east, carrying with them weapons, armor and food. However, some Wolf-Brothers remain, staring at the armies from the walls. Karthog's sharp eyes let him notice the stragglers are all armed and appear somewhat nervous.

As Verthak passes by, he gestures to the camp behind him.

"Those orcs follow me no more; do as you want with them. Perhaps they shall realize that freedom is meaningless without the power to protect it."

Then the bestial orc disappears into the forest, his people not far behind him. A few of Karthog's orcs eye them hungrily. A few of Verthak's seem to have similar looks.

Karthog's true orcs wait for the group to have completely left sight, then turn to Karthog.

"The horde has been assembled, Voice of the Mother. You need but command it and they shall move wherever you wish."

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog stared at the wolf-brothers who had stayed inside their settlement. "Ask them whether they have accepted the will of the Mother. If they have not, you know what to do." He simply said. "Call for my aid if resistance comes up that you cannot defeat without heavy losses. The horde is not yet large enough that we can be reckless."

[Inevitability]

"As you command."

The druid begins walking towards the wooden palisade, followed by the horde. The druid's call goes unanswered, and the shaman signals Karthog's orcs to attack.

Moments later, the gate is knocked down as hundreds of orcs pour in. A short battle later, Karthog's orcs emerge. Many enemies, men, women and children, have been taken captive. Various other things have also been looted, ranging from food to simple utensils such as needles and pots.

When Karthog's horde has gathered before him, a warrior who has not yet undergone his transformation into a true orc steps forward. The orc, who seems to be dragging an unconscious child with him, speaks:

"Voice of the Mother, many enemies have been captured. I, and many others, desire to petition for the Mother's blessing. Will you let us do so?"

[gremlin-pult]

"Yes." Karthog answered without hesitation, barely glancing at the child. Children were weak, and if their parents left them behind, they were doomed to be consumed by others anyway. Mercy was an invention of the civilized world, not of nature.
"Yes. Commence the ritual. Become strong for the Mother. Become the true horde."

[Inevitability]

Hundreds of orcs, prisoners in tow, begin preparing for the transformation. While dim, the fear of dying so near to perfection grips many of them. Some make smaller sacrifices to the Mother before killing their prisoner, believing it will protect them during the rituals. Others adorn their bodies with ritual paint hastily made from blood and mud.

A few orcs ask the druids for blessings. Some receive them, others don't.

Then, around noon, the rituals begin. Prisoner after prisoner is killed, their bodies consumed and flesh drank. The orcs who are not participating watch from a distance, or assist their friends and family who are.

After an hour of screams and chanting, silence falls as the individual orcs begin to prepare themselves mentally for the transformation. Many will fail, but many more will become true orcs, this Karthog knows.

[gremlin-pult]

"This... This is going to slowly." Karthog muttered to himself as he considered his progress so far. "The Mother's patience may be strong, but mine is not. You!" He yelled the last word, pointing to the nearest orc that had already gone through the ascension. "Spread the word. Tomorrow the horde will split in two. I will take all the true orcs except a few with me to the next settlement and continue my work. The rest will spread out and sweep through any small villages, camps and border towns they can find, rounding up prisoners until we have enough to ascend every last orc in the horde! No more time will be wasted. When all are true orcs, they will return to me, and our work will truly begin."

[Inevitability]

The orc wordlessly nods as he continues the rites.

Night passes. Sometimes, a piercing scream can be heard as an orc falls to the Mother's immense power, but except for that the hours go by ineventfully. Karthog simply watches as the orcs continue praying.

Suddenly, all disappears. The whispering orcs are gone, the fields are gone, the devastated Wolf-Brother houses are gone. Karthog is alone on a twilit hill, sitting at the foot of an immense oak tree.

As he watches, the landscape around him begins to twist. Mountains on the distant horizon come closer while staying miles away. The far desert stretches out until Karthog can feel its heat, yet the waste doesn't move. Dozens of little acorns start falling from the oak tree and borrow into the ground. Where they enter the ground, various creatures burrow up, ranging from weasels and birds to wolves, tigers and even a pitifully crying goblin.

"Greetings, Karthog." a voice sounds, simultaneously coming from the oak tree and no place at all.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog eyed his surroundings carefully, deliberating how to approach this new development. He would not bow or kowtow to anyone other than the Mother, no matter the consequences. Yet whatever power reigned here was obviously mighty, and deeply connected to the world itself and thus to the Mother herself. Which meant that a certain level of respect and tact would be wise.
"You have me at a disadvantage, esteemed elder, for I know not where I am or who you are. But by the Mother's grace, I greet you nonetheless." He eventually answered, carefully picking his words. Showing respect for a greater power, yet not showing weakness. For in nature, showing weakness was tantamount to death.

[Inevitability]

"Do you not remember me, Karthog? It was I who created you. It was I who brought life to this world."

A breeze rustles the oak tree's leaves, and for a moment the face of an old orcish woman appears in them. It is somehow familiar to Karthog, despite not belonging to anyone he knows.

"I have observed you. You gathered a pack and have bestowed my gifts upon many. As we speak, more and more are becoming like you.

But one of my actions puzzled me. Why did you spare the wolvish orc? Why did you let him leave? You could have killed him, and added many who now follow him to your numbers. At least, they'd have fueled many ascensions."

The voice doesn't sound angry or judging, merely curious.

[gremlin-pult]

"I... I am not certain, Oh Mother." Karthog answered humbly, keeping his gaze low in reverence. As soon as he had realised who was before him he had fallen to his knees, half in wonder and awe of once more being in her presence, and half out of fear that he'd failed her. "Like the others, he still cling to the trappings of the wrong path, but... Despite that, the spirit of your way is inside him, moreso than I've seen it in any of my kin before transformation. He may not have been aware of it, but he followed more closely your will for the land than any other orc... More than I did before you showed me the way. It felt... Wrong to kill him now. Perhaps... Perhaps he could still see the light, and accept your truth, given time. It would be wrong to focus on one who yet has potential like him, while much more deprave heretics abound. But rest assured, Mother, when next I see him... He will die if he has not changed."

[Inevitability]

"I see. May you grow strong, then."

Another gust of wind blows over the hill, and with it comes a strange warm feeling that envelops Karthog. The strange landscape slowly melts away, leaving Karthog near the praying orcs again.

Some of them are slumped over, but many live in stronger, bestial forms. They enthusiastically chant thanks to the Mother while the dead are moved by their loved ones.

[gremlin-pult]

"Leave the dead for the carrion." Karthog calls out clearly, his faith renewed after the Mother's visit. "They died in their attempts to grasp the Mother's truth, and therefore deserve the end that any of her creatures get. To feed the other beasts that live in her realm." He continued, getting up ponderously and rolling his shoulders.

"Now, there will be no more waiting. We go immediately to the next settlement, to bring them the Mother's will! Forward, horde. Soon we will have visited Her will upon all our misled kin. And then, we shall finally visit her wrath upon the other races, those who deserve none of her mercy! FOR THE MOTHER, AND HER HORDE!"

[Inevitability]

The orcs enthusiastically follow Karthog.

What direction are you going?

[gremlin-pult]

"North west, Brethren!" Karthog called out as they moved out. "To the fortress of the Rock-breakers! Let us show them that their walls cannot stand against nature when it reclaims the land!"

[Inevitability]

The army travels northeast. Other than the terrain slowly turning rockier and a few remote villages yielding some converts and fuel, not much happens.

However, as the fortress of the Rock-breakers is but half a week's travel away, scouts return with an interesting catch: two humans, clad in filthy white clothing. They silently walk before their captors and, upon seeing Karthog, immediately address him.

"Are you, perhaps, the one leading this army? Your scouts took us, peaceful missionaries, captive."

The scout leader eyes' widen as he sees the prisoners insolently speak on their own. He raises his hand, but quickly moves it back and looks at Karthog.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog stared at the humans for a moment, before losing interest in them. "Is there any left who have yet to ascend? If so, use these two. If not... Kill them anyway." He said to the nearest orc, turning away from the humans. He had no interest in them.

[Inevitability]

"Wait! Let us at least tell you about the True Divine, who sent its One child to guide us t..."

The human's sentence is interrupted by an orcish fist to the back of her head. The other is similarly knocked out, then both are dragged off by an orc yet unturned.

Attempt at cross-storyline interaction: failed. :smalltongue:

[gremlin-pult]

"Humans... Bah!" Karthog rumbled as he heard the mangled plea of the prisoners. "Foolish pests, to think they can preach when they hold no power in the conversation. They will be easily squashed. Now, no more dallying brothers! The Rock-breakers must not be left waiting for the Mother's embrace!"

[Inevitability]

After a few more days travel (as well as two new true orcs) the Rock-Breakers' city is reached. A large keep mined into the face of a great mountain, the fortress has repelled assaults from human lands more than once. It is only accessible from a single narrow road, easily defendable from above.

Karthog's approach hasn't gone unnoticed: many armed orcs look down upon the army, waiting for something to happen.

[gremlin-pult]

Karthog strode out in front of his horde, standing close enough to the walls that those inside would hear his bellows.
Taking a deep breath, he gave them his message.
"I am Karthog the Wildborn, voice of the Mother of creation! I will not mince words with you, since it has proven fruitless with other heathens so far! I give you a simple choice. Look at the horde that stretches behind me, the true orcs, brimming with the Mother's power from casting aside the false trappings of civilisation! They are the green tide, and nothing can stand before them forever! Leading them, I will surge across all the lands, delivering the Mother's judgement of death to all who worship civilisation and sully her creation! You have one chance: Join the Horde, cast aside your old lives and become True!..." He roared at the top of his lungs, taking a short break, both to take in another breath and for dramatic effect. "OR DIE IN A SEA OF FIRE AND BLOOD!"

[Inevitability]

"This is our answer!" one of the druids shouts.

Around Karthog, pebbles and dirt burst upward, forming a whirling vortex. While the scouring earth is only a minor problem for Karthog himself, the orcs near him suffer considerable wounds. One is hit in the head by a whirling rock and collapses.

Damage: [roll0]

Fortitude for half damage.

Further up the mountain path, a great rumbling can be heard. Rubble and mud come crashing down on the mountain path near the fortress, blocking it off.

"Never has this fortress been conquered, by man nor orc! If your armies try to take it, they will break upon our walls and die upon our spears!"

The floating rock and stone continue to whirl around Karthog.

[Inevitability]

So... it's been several weeks. Are you still there?