Wood Elf longboats arrived unexpectedly at the dock of the Morkul Stronghold. They escorted at least 100 Wood Orcs off their ships. The Wood Orcs had been bound and strung together.
"Come get your people!", shouted Admiral Nalgorfin. Admiral Nalgorfin was a small, slender man with dark features, tan skin, fawn horns sprouting from his dark brown hair, and with a black mask painted across his deep brown eyes.
Morkul guards rushed to the dock.
Skordo and Marekki stood on the bridge overlooking the dock. They had just arrived from Southern Elsewyr that day, and were chatting about where to go next. Little did they know travel would not be an option over the coming year.
From their vantage point they could see most of the Stronghold.
Shebakh ran from her Mages Guild post into the Longhouse to warn Chief Abzug. Marekki galloped after her.
Skordo made his way up the nearest tower, and offered to lend the guards a hand along with his great sword. He was immediately accepted and sent to help bar the front gates.
Chief Abzug emerged from the Longhouse in heavy armor with his Maul across his back. He strode across the courtyard, down the steps, under the bridge, and right up to Admiral Nalgorfin. "What right do you have coming here and treating our people this way?", Chief Abzug bellowed.
"Your people cut down our trees, and when the brave Bosmer of Malabal Tor rushed in to protect them, your people cut them down, too!", Admiral Nalgorfin shouted, and then prodded a Wood Orc prisoner toward the Chief. He continued, "We spared their lives, but they will now live in exile in the land of ice and stone from where they came."
Chief Abzug frowned, yet replied, "We will not turn away our kin, no matter how distant." He turned to the stairs coming down under the bridge where his wife, her mother, and her sister watched and waited, quietly, out of sight from the Wood Elves. He told them, "Tugha, Lazghal, and Ashaka, please show the Wood Orcs in, and I'll show the Wood Elves out." Chief Abzug returned his attention to the Wood Elves, and told them, "You made your delivery. Now shove off!"
Dongregorn, a blond shadow walker on the lead Wood Elf boat, pulled a scroll from his satchel. He opened it, and read aloud, "King Cameron declares all Wood Orcs are furthermore banished from Valenwood. Any and all Orcs found attempting to dwell in Valenwood will be summarily returned to Orcish lands henceforth."
"The disgrace!," Chief Abzug shouted, enraged, "An orc deserves to be allowed to die in glorious battle! Not herded about like echatere!"
Admiral Nalgorfin responded calmly, "We will not kill innocents. The farmers and the tanners inside their villages were not the ones who attacked us and our trees. We could not tolerate their violation of our Green Pact within our lands, but we could not kill them in their homes. The only moral option was to return them to their homelands."
"Every capable orc is a warrior! You have deprived every fit wood orc here of an honorable death!", Chief Abzug yelled aghast.
Dongregorn continued to read aloud from the edict scroll, "King Cameron also requests compensation for the damage done to Valenwood, for our dead, and for the time and effort spent transporting your people to safety."
"By Malacath!", Chief screamed, and then unsheathed his maul.
A Morkul tower guard finally loosed his arrow, piercing the scroll, and hitting Dongregorn directly in the throat. Dongregorn spat blood, and stumbled on to the dock. Beladess ran to his side, trying to slow the bleeding. Blood poured from his wound and mouth. He fell to knees, and bled onto the dock.
"We will not stand for this!", Beladess shouted, her voice strained with worry. She raised her own bow, and fired at the tower guard who had shot her friend.
The arrow struck true, and the tower guard collapsed over the railing, nearly falling down tower and the cliff side below.
The Morkul guards rushed to block off the stairs, leaving Chief Abzug stranded inside the pass under the bridge.
Chief Abzug lunged for Admiral Nalgorfin, but Beladess cut him off. She cast a powerful health drain, but Abzug's enchanted armor more than countered it. He swung his mighty maul at her, but she dodge rolled out of the way.
The Wood Elves surrounded Chief Abzug, casting spells and firing arrows, but he fought bravely.
Skordo grabbed a ladder and let it down from the bridge into the heart of the chaos and confusion. He fought his way to Chief Abzug, who was thoroughly beaten and bruised.
One Hundred and Eighty Wood Elves had arrived on the Longboats, and half of them had streamed out through the pass when the fighting began.
Nal grabbed Don, and quickly pulled him back onto the boat, compressing his wound, and shoving a healing potion down his throat. It leaked a little, but it stabilized Don.
Shebakh stood on the bridge guarding the ladder, casting fireballs at any wood elf who dared approach it.
Skordo swung his great sword with one arm, and then helped Chief Abzug back on his feet with the other. Chief Abzug stumbled, but Skordo managed to help him back to the ladder. Once he was up, Skordo motioned to Shebakh to pull the ladder up. She hesitated, but Skordo had already turned and run off, heading out of the other end of the pass, away from the docks. She pulled up the ladder, and left it on the bridge for the other orcs, who had started jumping down from the bridge into the fight.
The fight had spread to the other side of the Stronghold. On one side, there were the docks. The pass beneath the bridge led to the other side, an open field with three large statues gazing down upon it. It was bordered by a small stream.
The orcs managed to push the wood elves back to the stream, but as the battle wore on, the wood elves were able to surround them. The orcs, broke free, but they were bloodied and fatigued. Each side fought with different tactics, but over all, they were evenly matched.
Ashaka had been leading the assault, but looking over her fellow orcs, she realised fatigue was making them sloppy. At this rate, they would start loosing warriors if they did not retreat, rest, and recuperate. They could reconvene tomorrow, as long as the wood elves were sealed outside the Stronghold.
Ashaka called to her fellow troops, "Fall back! To the Stronghold!"
The orcs of Morkul were dismayed to relent in retreat, but relieved, because, honestly, most of their sword arms were sore from all the slashing and felling wood elves. They retreated, back to the bridge, and climbed, now three ladders defended by Shebakh, Rexus, and, an alchemist, Mulzara.
Ashaka ushered all her fellow soldiers troops up the ladder before she stepped foot on the first rung. She was half way up when Beladess managed to land an arrow in her back. Shebakh grabbed her, and helped her make it all the way up onto the bridge.
They pulled the three ladders up quickly, and set about tending to Ashaka. She was badly hurt. Shebakh could not stop the bleeding.
Rexus pulled out a soul gem, and said, "It's the only way."
"No," Shebakh objected, "She deserves an honorable end."
Ashaka's eyes focused in the soul gem.
Rexus took her hand, leaned over, and softly spoke into her ear, "This soul gem is your key to revenge. You can fight again. You can get revenge on the wood elf that struck you down."
Ashaka's pride overwhelmed her and, she replied, "Do it. Put me in your soul gem. Bring me back."
Shebakh nearly lost pressure on Ashaka's wound with the shock of her words. Shebakh questioned, "Are you sure? This is not our way. This is the way of the Imperials and the elves."
Ashaka grunted. Her eyes fluttered. She breathed heavily, painfully, and managed to whisper with her last breath, "Do it. I want my revenge."
Rexus caught Ashaka's soul in the soul gem at the very last moment. Shebakh took the soul gem and cradled it. She gentle deposited it in her satchel.
Shebakh, wiped away her tears, "Rexus, I don't know if this is right or wrong, but this is no place to discuss it. We will talk to the chief. It is his wife's sister after all."
*** *** ***
Many died that first day.
Shebakh spoke to Chief Abzug. He was badly wounded, and in no condition to make any long standing decisions.
They held a funeral for Ashaka's body, and placed her soul gem in an Orc urn until time as such could be decided as what to do with her.
At Ashaka's funeral, Shebakh and Rexus presented the rest of the orcs with the same choice. Should they choose revenge over a glorious death in battle, they could allow their own souls to be stowed in their own soul gem and be recalled to battle at a later date. Some orcs refused, some were cautious, some jumped at the chance to die in battle not once, but twice. Would Malacath reward them twice as well for twice as many battles? Only the dead knew. The orcs did insist that they not be put in elf bodies. There was a rumor that the elves did that kind of thing to their enemies in Stonefalls, and no one wanted that dishonour. Shebakh pledged no elf bodies would be considered.
*** *** ***
The Wood Elf marines were divided between the fleet at the dock, and the new camp they set up in the shadow of Morkul's three statues. The tents were set up on the edge of the river. Spiked barriers were erected closer to the cliffs beneath Morkul. Between the tents and the spiked barriers the Wood Elves started digging holes. Lots of holes, of all sizes and shapes.
On the third morning, the camp received two refugees, Nednor, and Mennenia. The message they arrived with said, they were returning their own people to them, alive and unharmed, as they had the Wood Orcs. The Orcs meant this as an insult, but the Wood Elves were relieved to have been escorted out, rather than thrown off the cliffs.
The rest of the story is tagged here under
#Siege of Morkul
I've finally taken the time to tag each part individually to help navigating from one part to the next under #siege of morkul part (#)
Marekki had been silent as long as she could, before she inquired, “So where are we going?”
“Mor Khazgur,” Don replied.
“Where’s that?.” Skordo asked.
“It’s in Western Skyrim,” Don explained, “King Cameron wanted a neutral meeting point, somewhere outside of the Daggerfall Covenant and outside the Aldmeri Dominion. Skyrim is held by the Nords, who are aligned with the Ebonheart Pact, though Western Skyrim is independent as Wrothgar is. It’s about as neutral as we get, I’d say. Mor Khazgur being an Orc stronghold, King Cameron thought that might be some comfort to you.”
“There are orcs in Skyrim?”, Marekki questioned.
“There are Orcs everywhere!”, Skordo proudly told her.
Nal nodded, and said, “There are few here, but yes.”
By midnight they had reached the inlet on the Northern coast of Western Skyrim that met the river that led to Mor Khazgur. It was a long journey. At places they were forced to get out, pick up the long boat, and carry it over the shallows. The Bosmer longboat was light and small. Barely large enough to handle deep water, but not sturdy enough for the open ocean. It was adept, however, at traversing rivers. The waterfalls also proved a challenge, but with some planks they were able the slide the longboat downhill around the fall, and then rejoin the river.
Eventually, the river became a stream near the stronghold, and it was simply too shallow for anything but a row boat. They lashed the longboat to a sizable boulder. They packed the supplies for the journey home into bags in waterproof skins, and then tucked them under the benches. Don stayed with the longboat, while the rest walked to the stronghold.
It was a short walk.
The place was not so much a stronghold as a mine with some high mountains in the back and high fences in the front. Skordo declared, “Not much of a stronghold. Explains why there were so few orcs left here.” He laughed.
Chief Abzug smirked, and then added, “Doesn’t much compare to home.”
“Marekki expects the cold keeps everyone but orcs away,” she said.
“Come along. We’re almost here,” Nal prodded, leading them around the fence and then up to the gate.
Two orcs met them at the gate.
Nal bowed and then introduced them to each other, “Chief Urzikh and Mine Overseer Thulsgreg, I am pleased to introduce Chief Abzug, Captain Skordo, and Attaché Marekki.
Marekki bowed, accepting her new title instantly and enthusiastically. She greeted the Mor Khazgur orcs, “This is pleased to be welcomed into your sprawling stronghold.”
Chief Abzug also bowed and told them, “As are we.”
Skordo followed suit, and bowed to them as well.
“Please accompany us to the mine,” Chief Urzikh requested, and the waved them toward the entrance.
“The mine?”, Chief Abzug questioned nervously.
Marekki also questioned this, “Would the longhouse not be more suitable for dignitaries?”
Chief Urzikh addressed Chief Abzug, “King Cameron awaits you inside the mine.”
Skordo and Marekki exchanged concerned looks. Chief Abzug suspicion was written all over his face, but they had come here for a reason.
Nal walked toward the mine.
They could protest. They could even insist they hash this out in the longhouse, but they were all three tired. They had endured a siege for a year now, and if the end of this stood end the mine, one way or another, then they would meet it.
Skordo squared his shoulders and then followed Nal. Marekki trotted behind him. Chief Abzug limped behind them, failing to hide his crippled leg. Chief Urzikh and Thulsgreg followed.
King Cameron was indeed inside the mine. He was, in fact, not too far from the entrance, close enough to make a quick escape actually. He stood between Zhasim and a large boulder.
King Cameron bowed to the orcs and their khajiit attaché, as did Zhasim, the King’s own personal khajiit attaché.
King Cameron greeted them, “It is good to finally meet you in person, Chief Abzug. And this must be Marekki and Skordo. Zhasim has said good thing about you. I appreciate you conveying my messages.”
Zhasim smiled at them and nodded in confirmation.
“Thanks,” Skordo replied curtly.
“We are honoured,” Marekki responded with a deep bow, stretching her forelegs out toward the king and arching her back deeply toward the ground with her tail up pointing toward the ceiling.
Zhasim blushed at the lavish display. It had been years since he had seen a khajiit bow so deeply to anyone.
King Cameron pressed on, “Now to the business at hand. I have sent about a dozen message, 12 to be exact, in one short year. That is a lot of correspondence for someone I have not had relations with,” King Cameron winked, and then added, “I hope to change that today.”
Marekki giggled. The orcs were stone faced.
Zhasim pulled a scroll from him messenger satchel, and then handed it to Marekki.
Marekki took the ribbon on the scroll in her teeth, and carried the scroll to Chief Abzug.
Chief Abzug glanced at King Cameron, annoyed at the pomp and circumstance, but he diligently took the scroll from Marekki. Marekki was so proud as she trotted back to her place. Skordo grinned, holding in a laugh.
Chief Abzug read the scroll. He rolled it up, and clenched it in his fist. Seething, he replied, “Had you offered this last year instead of laying siege to my stronghold, I may have accepted it,” he shook the scroll in the king’s face, and then continued, “The Wood Orcs never wanted to leave Malabal Tor in the first place. We might have welcomed a trade deal. We might have even agreed to house the Wood Orcs in the time it took to hammer out a peace deal. Especially if it meant,” he quoted the scroll, “ ‘acquiring adjoining land for the Wood Orcs to expand into’.” Chief Abzug tossed the scroll onto the ground. Marekki grabbed it before it hit the floor. He railed at the king, “But you have taken so much from us in the last year, this pact cannot repair our peace!!”
King Cameron sneered at him, and then replied, “You attempted to grab much from us. Your people cut a swath through our precious Valenwood, violating the Green Pact!”
“Orcs don’t follow the Green Pact!”, Chief Abzug interrupted.
“And encroaching upon protected forest,” King Cameron finished.
“We needed land to farm and build on,” Chief Abzug advocated for the Wood Orcs.
King Cameron scowled. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then relented. His expression softened. He responded, “Perhaps it was a bit bold of us to round up the survivors and then drop them on your dock.”
“They deserved to die in battle,” Skordo told him.
Chief Abzug sneered King Cameron, and responded, “And they did. We managed to evacuate the very young, the very old, and the gravely wounded, but the rest of the Wood Orcs stayed and fought with us. Not many remain to return to Malabal Tor after a year of your siege.”
“We understand you have your losses,” King Cameron offered, “For those who wish to return, we have islands without trees and beaches that we are willing to negotiate upon. Your people had lived on the delta and the adjoining shore for many years. We can discuss those.”
Chief Abzug challenged him, “And if we refuse? Then what? You kill us?”
King Cameron turned to Chief Urzikh, and said, “You can show him now.”
Chief Urzikh told them, “There’s a little formula I perfected for mining. It’s called the Stonemelt. I based it off a formula I learned from the elves they they used for siege breaking.” She turned to her quarry overseer, and told him, “Pour the Stonemelt formula over this boulder.”
Chief Urzikh took a few steps back. Everyone moved away from the boulder, too.
Thulsgreg stepped up to the boulder, poured a few drops onto it, and then hurried away.
The boulder sizzled and crackled before crumbling into a mound of gravel.
King Cameron smirked, and then informed Chief Abzug, “Chief Urzikh can make enough of this potion to dissolve your entire Stronghold,” and then his leaned toward Chief Abzug, and quietly told him, “Though I imagine all we need is enough to dissolve the pillars of that root cellar of yours, and the entire stronghold will collapse into itself.”
Chief Abzug gasped and turned pale. Skordo and Marekki were also visibly upset. Nal was openly sympathetic, though he said nothing. Even Zhasim had a pitied look on his face.
Chief Abzug grimaced. His orc pride demanded a fight to the death for threatening his people and his home. However, as a leader, he couldn’t ask the remaining soldiers to die such a sudden and anti-climatic death, nor could he leave the children, the elders, and the wounded to be slaughtered in Orsinium and beyond. Chief Abzug nearly choked, but he swallowed his pride, and responded, “Fine. We’ll trade you our echatere meat and cheese for that Stonemelt formula and adjoining lands in Malabal Tor for the Wood Orcs. No more fighting. Deal?”
Zhasim glanced at the scroll, and back at King Cameron, and then asked, “Did we offer the formula?”
King Cameron shrugged, and replied, “If it means we can all go home, yes.” King Cameron looked at Chief Abzug, and told him, “It’s a deal.”
Marekki returned the treaty scroll to Chief Abzug. Chief Urzikh handed him a quill. He signed the treaty scroll, and then handed it directly to King Cameron. King Cameron accepted, and then signed the treaty himself. At last he turned the treaty and quill over to Chief Urzikh, who signed the treaty as an impartial witness.
Everyone walked outside, and into the longhouse for a drink. Zhasim whistled, and a crow flew to him. Zhasim told the crow, “Tell Beladess the peace treaty has been signed, and show her this as a token.” Zhasim attached a small Bosmer royal seal to the crow’s leg. The crow cawed in acceptance, and then flew off to Morkul.
Epilogue
They arrived back on the Morkul docks at dawn on the third day.
General Shebakh had indeed chased the Wood Elves from the camp all the way to the Frozen Fleet. They had tried to bunker down in the wrecked ships, but they did not have the same tolerance for the cold as the orcs. In exchange for returning them to their non-frozen Wood Elf fleet to treat their frostbite and hypothermia, the Wood Elves surrendered. Shebakh had also asked for seeds and tips on growing some of the plant traps, just in case. The Wood Elves were impressed, but also appalled. They told her to ask Bela. Bela laughed, and refused.
By the time Skordo and they rest arrived, the crow had delivered their message and the token. Yet Skordo was still surprised to see Bela unloading supplies from the Wood Elf fleet, and passing them to a line of Clay warriors that wound over the dock, under the bridge, up the stairs, and into the Stronghold.
Bela smirked at Skordo, and told him, “A little birdie told me you were in need of some provisions.”
“But why?”, Skordo asked suspicious.
Admiral Nal replied, “We’re allies, right?”
Marekki hopped into a crate marked “eggs”, and thanked them, “This one is very appreciative.”
“Thank you,” Skordo awkwardly told them. Then he read the crate Marekki was perched on, and exclaimed, “By Malacath! We haven’t had fresh eggs in months!” He grinned.
Chief Abzug addressed them, “Morkul thanks you. We will have supplies to trade by the Summer months.”
Skordo walked along the line of Clay warriors searching for Ashaka. He did not see her, but he did find General Shebakh.
Shebakh was stone faced. He features were so sternly set, they threatened to crack under a slight breeze. Skordo could tell it was bad. He approached her.
“Ashaka?”, Skordo inquired.
Shebakh offered him a wilted smile, and told him, “I’ll take you to her.”
Skordo followed Shebakh to a stretcher just on the other side of the river.
Shebakh told him, “She made it all the way to the Frozen Fleet with us. Those Bosmer bastards never stood a chance.” Shebakh choked back a sob, and then continued, “We’re taking her to Lazghal so she can say goodbye.”
Skordo knelt over Ashaka’s clay form. She was so cold. It was hard to believe any life remained. Her soul gem flicked in her chest. It was dim, but it still held her light.
Ashaka’s voice sounded from the clay mask, still hollow like an oboe, “Skordo? Is that you? I can’t move any more.”
Skordo took her hand, “Hey, Ashaka. Shebakh told me fought like a storm atronach. You always were a force of nature on the battle field.”
“I took those blighted elves out left and right,” Ashaka reported proudly. Her voiced faded in and out as her soul gem flickered. She added, “The more that came at me, the more I mowed down with my old battleaxe.”
Skordo chuckled softly. Pride and grief swept over him in waves. Once he found his voice again, it came out rough with unshed tears, “Malacath will have a place of glory for you.”
“Is Morkul still standing?”, Ashaka asked.
“Yes,” Skordo assured her, “Morkul is still standing.”
“My home,” Ashaka said with a sigh. He soul gem dimmed. She continued, “My home is safe.” Her soul gem faded out. She was gone.
Skordo wept quietly. Shebakh embraced them, and they wept together on the bank of the river overlooking the battlefield and Morkul. There was grief, but there was also relief that it was all over.
After a minute, Shebakh released Skordo, straightened herself up, and then nervously told him, “I promised myself if I survived this... Skordo? Will you join me in the Longhouse?”
Skordo straightened himself up, and then replied, “Of corse, General Shebakh.”
Shebakh blushed. She corrected him gently, “It’s just Shebakh of the Mages Guild now,” she hesitated, and then asked more clearly, “and I would like you to join me for dinner.”
Skordo smiled sheepishly, and replied, “Well I guess there’s nothing wrong with having dinner with a member of the Mages Guild.”
Shebakh kissed him on the cheek, and then led him by the hand to the Longhouse.
“I’m not joining the Mages Guild,” Skordo asserted, “I’m a proud member of the Fighters Guild.”
“Some people are members of both,” Shebakh tempted him.
Marekki saw Skordo and Shebakh disappear upstairs hand in hand. “Finally,” Marekki shouted. She returned her attention to Nal, and said, “Marekki thanks you for your troubles, yet this one asks one more favour.”
“What?”, Nal asked.
“Send my regards to that sleek courrier Zhasim,” she requested and then yowled.
Nal laughed, shook his head, and then replied, “I’m afraid he’s married to a nice lass from Southern Elsewyr.”
Marekki hung her head sadly, her ears and tail drooping. She pouted and said, “She is a lucky one.”
The crow cawed.
Nal reported, “I know a merchant.”
Marekki hissed, “Kss. Marekki knows better than to cavort with travelling merchants. They have kittens in every town! This one prefers diplomats,” she opined, and then added, “or soldiers. Or a nice marine.”
Nal cast a sidelong glance. However he replied, “In the interest of diplomacy, perhaps we can send a few khajiiti marines to pick up the first shipment from Morkul this Summer.”
Marekki yowled again, jumped down from the crate, and then rubbed against Nal’s leg affectionately. She exclaimed, “You’re a gem!”
Once the provisions were off loaded, and the surviving Wood Elves from the camp were on board, the Wood Elf fleet set sail back to Grahtwood.
We have one last chapter, and then we're done. No more captains, no more generals, the chief and the king are finally going to parle
if they can't talk it out, General Shebakh and Beladess are going to fight it out, an unmovable object meets and unstoppable object, orc vs wood elf, steel vs stealth
Chief Abzug was not bound, nor did he seem hurt. The Wood Elves had no weapons in sight.
Skordo feared this was a trap, and that the dagger may fall at any moment. He looked to Chief Abzug, and asked, “Is it true? Are we abandoning the battle?”
Chief Abzug’s body stiffened, his fists and jaw clenched.
Admiral Nalgorfin interjected, “Think of it more as abandoning a war for peace.”
“I asked the Chief,” Skordo responded defensively.
Chief Abzug looked down and away. He sighed heavily, and then looked Skordo in the eye. Reluctantly, Chief Abzug explained, “It’s not just about Morkul any more. I would proudly die for my Stronghold, but all of Wrothgar is threatened to be swallowed up by this. With no end in sight to this stand off, King Cameron sent word to Queen Ayreen. With Morkul protecting the Malabal Tor Wood Orcs, she says it’s not just about Morkul now. She’s willing to send all of the Aldemeri Dominion against Wrothgar to “defend Valenwood against the unbridled expansion of the Wood Orcs.” She has also threatened to exile every orc inside Valenwood.” Chief Abzug grunted. Angry, desperate, and defeated, these soft words were all he had left for his warriors, “King Cameron wants to talk, and to trade. I must make a decision every orc in Morkul. In Wrothgar. Through all of Tamriel. I must hear him out. If there is a way out of this where you can live free, then you will. Otherwise, we will do as Orcs always have; die with honour.”
“You can’t give yourself up!,” Skordo protested.
Chief Abzug remained silent.
Skordo lifted his sword.
Nal laughed, “Put that away, orc. Our king just wants to talk. We intend to return your chief unharmed.”
Skordo looked to his chief unconvinced.
Chief Abzug waved him off, and said, “We’ll see what he wants when we get there. I will sacrifice whatever I must for my people.”
Skordo put away his sword, and then asked, “When did you decide all this? To go with the fleet off to somewhere to talk it out with King Cameron?”.
“Another letter came today,” Chief Abzug responded, “I was about to burn it, but your little Khajiit friend here told me about the fresh marines that joined the fleet today.”
She piped up, “Marekki met the courier today, Zhasim. That one is sleek. And no rummaging through straw piles today!” Marekki was pleased, and then she frowned and added, “It was such a shame he had to leave so quickly.”
Nal smiled at her, and told her, “You will see Zhasim soon enough.”
Marekki purred, excited, “This one hopes so.”
“Zhasim? You mean that Khajiit from the Morkul Foundry?”, Skordo asked.
“Marekki does not know,” she answered.
“The same,” Nal replied.
Skordo laughed, and then said, “That explains what he was doing hanging out by the stables. I thought he was just gabbing with Gunnilier.”
Marekki gasped shocked, and then asked, “You knew about Zhasim?!”
Skordo replied, “Yeah, the tower guard nearly put an arrow through his head, but I just happened to be there to vouch for him. Didn’t we meet him in Senchal?”
Marekki answered with a purr, and then added, “Yes, but he was busy with his partner and we were busy trying to save other Khajiit from the Hunt.”
“Good times,” Skordo replied nostaglically, and then said, “Wait, is that why the letters always smelled like Senche-raht dung?
Chief Abzug laughed, and then said, “I just thought that’s what Wood Elves smelled like.”
“How dare you?!”, Don objected.
“This is all terrible and offensive and no one wants this,” Nal addressed everyone, “but if we are going, then we should set sail now.”
Bela told them, “I’m staying with the fleet in case General Shebakh gets any ideas.” Bela walked down the plank and then onto the dock. She heaved the boarding plank onto the boat, and Don helped guide it into its resting place aboard the longboat. Bela dove into the water, swam to the second boat, and was helped aboard.
“Aren’t you going to help defend the camp?”, Skordo yelled over to her.
Bela smirked, and then shouted back, “If you do not send word within 3 days, we plan to!”
Nal spoke, “We hang our hopes upon your good will.” He picked up two oars, and then handed one to Don.
Don told them, “If you are not on board with our plans for a peace pact, this is your chance to walk away.”
Chief Azbug, Skordo, and Marekki looked at each other, and then each took a seat on the longboat’s benches.
Don and Nal guided the longboat out of the bay into deeper water, but still within sight of the coast.
Nal loosened the rigging, and allowed the sail to open up.
the next chapter might make some of you mad but i must put the character through it for him to reach the other side
being "the hero" is not a title awarded as a participation trophy, it's about doing the right thing even when it's hard and you're the only one who can
also i just enjoy seeing burly men tied up and waiting until just the right second to break their bonds and go feral
this is a small selections of the different, and wrong ways have discovered I tried to spell "echatere" during my last draft
I have had so much trouble consistently spelling this word for an orc type of buffalo, that I've taken writing it in the corner of the page for reference
for the Morkul Siege fic i imagined the Bosmer marine fleet to be about 10 Viking longboats holding about 12 marines each and supplies for a month. Not massive ocean going sailing ships, but schooners or light sail boats with about 6 rows of oars. i wanted the ships to be light enough to navigate a river in Wrothgar, Rivenspire, or Western Skyrim. i also wanted them to be able to pick it up and carry it over the shallow rocky sections of rivers, or short distance on to land. They would likely only have one sail, possibly a smaller one, if the design was triangular instead of rectangular.
i thought about this. i didn't just decide a dozen random Bosmer boats should be in the Morkul bay just South West of the Frozen Fleet.
i had also thought about canoes and dugouts. The dugout from the Solstice fishing achievement looked interesting, but i wanted an army of about 150 with 100 captured orcs to suddenly appear at the Morkul dock, and, realistically, the place is only so big, so a big armada type sailing ship was out of the question. The Frozen Fleet proves what happens to massive sailing ships in that area.
so i decided on a fleet of 10 much smaller, shallower ships.
Skordo left the Longhouse for the first time in a while. The siege had dragged on for eleven long months now. Supplies were dwindling in the stronghold, as were troops. Spring had arrived, and while it meant less firewood was needed, it meant the last of the provisions would be thawing out. The situation was becoming desperate.
He walked toward the guard tower beside the gate. There was a wide, winding path that lead down to a small cave beneath the stronghold.
Skordo couldn't decide whether the Wood Elves were too stupid to find it, or too smart to fall into the trap.
The cavern ceiling was low. It was more of a root cellar, but currently it operated as the base of operations for Morkul's remaining army.
General Shebakh greeted him warmly as soon as he had stepped inside. She had been recruited and promoted on the same day, when Ashaka had died and Chief Abzug had been severely wounded. A lot of recruitment and promotions had happened within the last 11 months. Skordo was now a Captain of the Guard. "Greetings, Captain Skordo," General Shebakh said, "Are you ready?"
"I'm not so sure about this," Skordo replied.
"Me, neither," Shebakh agreed, "but we promised Ashaka another chance to fight."
"Where did Rexus even find the things?", Skordo asked.
"Apparently, he collects magical oddities," Shebakh answered. She stood before a sole pillar cover in a tarp. Shebakh took a deep breath, and then ripped the tarp off.
Underneath was a clay orc warrior, an orc style Voskrona.
"It looks nothing like her," Skordo fretted.
"Rexus only has one Vox -- Vos -- clay warrior mould. Everyone will look the same," Shebakh told him. She gingerly took Ashaka's soul gem out of her urn. "Rexus?," she shouted.
Rexus emerged from a room deeper in the cellar. The ceiling was hardly tall enough for an orc to stand up straight, but there were enough rooms to store a year's worth of provisions. The rooms were mostly empty now.
"I see you are ready," Rexus noted, "I am not a student of necromancy," he cautioned,"I merely have a fascination with relics and a desire to help Morkul restore its army."
Rexus carefully took Ashaka's soul gem, and then inserted it into the clay automaton's chest where the heart would be. He read an ancient scroll, slowly and carefully.
The soul glowed, dimly and shakily at first, and then bright and steady.
The clay warrior raised her head. Her voice was hollow, like an echo inside a clay pot. She asked, "Did it work? Am I back?"
Skordo smiled, and replied, "Yep, you're back." He hugged her, and then stepped back. He asked, "How does it feel to be made of clay?"
"Stiff," Ashaka answered.
Skordo chuckled and then said, "Ask an obvious question."
"Get an obvious answer," Ashaka finished this well worn saying.
Skordo nodded approvingly, "So that is you in there." His smile disappeared, in a serious tone he asked, "How was in in that soul gem?"
Ashaka thought a moment, and then replied, "Honestly, I don't remember. I remember dying. That hurt like a son of a boar. Then I woke up here. It doesn't. I can't feel much of anything. I feel in my heart, I feel rage and joy, but I don't feel cold or hungry. It's been... How long?"
"Eleven months," Shebakh answered her.
"Eleven months? And you still haven't kicked those Bosmer back to the swamp? No wonder you brought me back. Let me at them!," Ashaka said excitedly. She reached for her battleaxe. The movement was slow, and still but she managed.
They stepped back and gave her room for a few practice swings.
"Great job!," Shebakh encouraged her.
"Astounding," Rexus remarked, and then added, "We have enough soul gems and clay to create a total of 100 clay warriors. There is one provision, though. The soul gems will be drained by the clay automatons after one moon cycle, or 30 days, or 4 weeks, I'm not entirely clear."
"Then we must work quickly," Shebakh responded resolute.
"What do we do now?" Ashaka asked.
Shebakh smiled at her, "You rest. You've done enough for today."
Ashaka sighed, "But I just woke up! Also, I don't know if I sleep."
"There's a rest period that activates after a period of inactivity," Rexus assured her, "I believe it was meant to preserve the minds of the volunteers. According to the texts, you might even dream."
"That's great, Rex, old buddy, but I'd rather kick some Bosmer butt and finish up with a big, bloody red echatere steak," Ashaka responded.
"I am a mage, not a deadric prince. I can only offer so much" Rexus replied indignantly.
"Why don't I catch you up on the last eleven months?" Skordo offered Ashaka, "And these two can get back to planning."
"Fine," Ashaka accepted.
General Shebakh and Rexus disappeared into the back room to prepare to create more clay warriors.
Wood Elf longboats arrived unexpectedly at the dock of the Morkul Stronghold. They escorted at least 100 Wood Orcs off their ships. The Wood Orcs had been bound and strung together.
"Come get your people!", shouted Admiral Nalgorfin. Admiral Nalgorfin was a small, slender man with dark features, tan skin, fawn horns sprouting from his dark brown hair, and with a black mask painted across his deep brown eyes.
Morkul guards rushed to the dock.
Skordo and Marekki stood on the bridge overlooking the dock. They had just arrived from Southern Elsewyr that day, and were chatting about where to go next. Little did they know travel would not be an option over the coming year.
From their vantage point they could see most of the Stronghold.
Shebakh ran from her Mages Guild post into the Longhouse to warn Chief Abzug. Marekki galloped after her.
Skordo made his way up the nearest tower, and offered to lend the guards a hand along with his great sword. He was immediately accepted and sent to help bar the front gates.
Chief Abzug emerged from the Longhouse in heavy armor with his Maul across his back. He strode across the courtyard, down the steps, under the bridge, and right up to Admiral Nalgorfin. "What right do you have coming here and treating our people this way?", Chief Abzug bellowed.
"Your people cut down our trees, and when the brave Bosmer of Malabal Tor rushed in to protect them, your people cut them down, too!", Admiral Nalgorfin shouted, and then prodded a Wood Orc prisoner toward the Chief. He continued, "We spared their lives, but they will now live in exile in the land of ice and stone from where they came."
Chief Abzug frowned, yet replied, "We will not turn away our kin, no matter how distant." He turned to the stairs coming down under the bridge where his wife, her mother, and her sister watched and waited, quietly, out of sight from the Wood Elves. He told them, "Tugha, Lazghal, and Ashaka, please show the Wood Orcs in, and I'll show the Wood Elves out." Chief Abzug returned his attention to the Wood Elves, and told them, "You made your delivery. Now shove off!"
Dongregorn, a blond shadow walker on the lead Wood Elf boat, pulled a scroll from his satchel. He opened it, and read aloud, "King Cameron declares all Wood Orcs are furthermore banished from Valenwood. Any and all Orcs found attempting to dwell in Valenwood will be summarily returned to Orcish lands henceforth."
"The disgrace!," Chief Abzug shouted, enraged, "An orc deserves to be allowed to die in glorious battle! Not herded about like echartere!"
Admiral Nalgorfin responded calmly, "We will not kill innocents. The farmers and the tanners inside their villages were not the ones who attacked us and our trees. We could not tolerate their violation of our Green Pact within our lands, but we could not kill them in their homes. The only moral option was to return them to their homelands."
"Every capable orc is a warrior! You have deprived every fit wood orc here of an honorable death!", Chief Abzug yelled aghast.
Dongregorn continued to read aloud from the edict scroll, "King Cameron also requests compensation for the damage done to Valenwood, for our dead, and for the time and effort spent transporting your people to safety."
"By Malacath!", Chief screamed, and then unsheathed his maul.
A Morkul tower guard finally loosed his arrow, piercing the scroll, and hitting Dongregon directly in the throat. Dongregorn spat blood, and stumbled on to the dock. Beladess ran to his side, trying to slow the bleeding. Blood poured from his wound and mouth. He fell to kness, and bled out on the dock.
"We will not stand for this!", Beladess shouted, her voice rough with grief. She raised her own bow, and fired at the tower guard who had shot her friend.
The arrow struck true, and the tower guard collapsed over the railing, nearly falling down tower and the cliffside below.
The Morkul guards rushed to block off the stairs, leaving Chief Abzug stranded in the pass under the bridge.
Chief Abzug lunged for Admiral Nalgorfin, but Beladess cut him off. She cast a powerful health drain, but Abzug's enchanted armor more than countered it. He swung his mighty maul at her, but she dodge rolled out of the way.
The Wood Elves surrounded Chief Azbug, casting spells and firing arrrows, but he fought bravely.
Skordo grabbed a ladder and let it down from the bridge into the heart of the chaos and confusion. He fought his way to Chief Abzug, who was thoroughly beaten an bruised.
One Hundred and Eighty Wood Elves had arrived on the Longboats, and half of them had streamed out through the pass when the fighting began.
Shebakh stood on the bridge guarding the ladder, casting fireballs at any wood elf who dared approach it.
Skordo swung his great sword with one arm, and then helped Chief Abzug back on his feet with the other. Chief Azbug stumbled, but Skordo managed to help him back to the ladder. Once he was up, Skordo motioned to Shebakh to pull the ladder up. She hesitated, but Skordo had already turned and run off out the other end of the pass, away from the docks. She pulled up the ladder, and left it on the bridge for the other orcs, who had started jumping down from the bridge into the fight.
The fight had spread to the other side of the Stronghold. On one side, there were the docks. The pass beneath the bridge led to the other side, an open field with three large statues gazing down upon it. It was bordered by a small stream.
The orcs managed to push the wood elves back to the stream, but as the battle wore on, the wood elves were able to surround them. The orcs, broke free, but they were bloodied and fatigued. Each side fought with different tactics, but over all, they were evenly matched.
Ashaka had been leading the assault, but looking over her fellow orcs, she realised fatigue was making them sloppy. At this rate, they would start loosing warriors if they did not retreat, rest, and recuperate. They could reconvene tomorrow, as long as the wood elves were sealed outside the Stronghold.
Ashaka called to her fellow troops, "Fall back! To the Stronghold!"
The orcs of Morkul were saddened to retreat, but relieved, because, honestly, most of their sword arms were sore from all the slashing and felling wood elves. They retreated, back to the bridge, and climbed, now three ladders defended by Shebakh, Rexus, and, an alchemist, Mulzara.
Ashaka ushered all her fellow soldiers troops up the ladder before she stepped foot on the first rung. She was half way up when Beladess managed to land an arrow in her back. Shebakh grabbed her, and helped her make it all the up onto the bridge.
They pulled the three ladders up quickly, and set about tending to Ashaka. She was badly hurt. Shebakh couldn't stop the bleeding.
Rexus pulled out a soul gem, and said, "It's the only way."
"No," Shebakh objected, "She deserves an honorable end."
Ashaka's eyes focused in the soul gem.
Rexus took her hand, leaned over, and softly spoke into her ear, "This soul gem is your key to revenge. You can fight again. You can get revenge on the wood elf that struck you down."
Ashaka's pride overwhelmed her and, she replied, "Do it. Put me in your soul gem. Bring me back."
Shebakh nearly lost pressure on Ashaka's wound with the shock of her words. Shebakh questioned, "Are you sure? This is not our way. This is the way of the Imperials and the elves."
Ashaka grunted. Her eyes fluttered. She breathed heavily, painfully, and managed to whisper with her last breath, "Do it. I want my revenge."
Rexus caught Ashaka's soul in his soul gem at the very last moment. Shebakh took the soul gem and craddled it. She gentle deposited it in her satchel.
Shebakh, wiped away her tears, "Rexus, I don't know if this is right or wrong, but this is no place to discuss it. We will talk to the chief. It is his wife's sister after all."
*** *** ***
Many died that first day.
Shebakh spoke to Cheif Abzug. He was badly wounded, and in no condition to make any long standing decisions.
They held a funeral for Ashaka's body, and placed her soul gem in an Orc urn until time as such could be decided as what to do with her.
At Ashaka's funeral, Shebakh and Rexus presented the rest of the orcs with the same choice. Should the choose revenge over a glorious death in battle, they could allow their own souls to be stowed in their own soul gem and be recalled to battle at a later date. Some orcs refused, some were cautious, some jumped at the chance to die in battle not once, but twice. Would Malacath reward them twice as well for twice as many battles? Only the dead knew. The orcs did insist that they not be put in elf bodies. There was a rumor that the elves did that kind of thing to their enemies in Stonefalls, and no one wanted that dishonour. Shebakh pledged no elf bodies would be considered.
*** *** ***
The Wood Elf marines were divided between the fleet at the dock, and the new camp they set up in the shadow of Morkul's three statues. The tents were set up on the edge of the river. Spiked barriers were erected closure the the cliffs beneath Morkul. Between the tents and the spiked barriers the Wood Elves started digging holes. Lots of holes, of all sizes and shapes.
On the third morning, the camp received two refugees, Nednor, and Mennenia. The message they arrived with said, they were returning their own people to them, alive and unharmed, as they had the Wood Orcs. The Orcs meant this as an insult, but the Wood Elves were relieved to have been escorted out, rather than thrown off the cliffs.
Dawn rose once again over Morkul. Glinting off the bay, rousing the fleet, filtering through the windows of the buildings in the Stronghold, and warming the frost covered camp. Two weeks had passed since the capsizing of the Wood Elf fleet.
General Shebakh, Rexus, and Skordo had finished crafting all 100 clay warriors. They had lined up in five rows of 20 outside the Stronghold facing the camp.
Rexus was with the guards in the towers, helping the other mages defend the Stronghold from within.
General Shebakh and Skordo were on either side of the soldiers. Shebakh gave the sign, and the first twenty followed her. Skordo followed with the next twenty. Three more orcs followed after him with the rest of the units.
Skordo was barely to the first spiked barricade when he was pulled in by a Strangler. He swung his mighty Great Sword and cleaved the Strangler in two. His unit advanced carefully. The Gas Blossoms had no effect on the clay warriors, but Skordo needed a mask and a few health potions. The Static pitchers weren’t as shocking as the Wood Elves had hoped, and the clay warriors marched right over them. The only other issue was the Lantern Mantis. The kick wasn’t harmful, but it did knock several clay warriors into cleverly placed pits, dug nearby.
The Wood Elf arrows bounced off Skordo’s heavy armour, but the fire arrows were heated up his armour terribly. He wasn’t foolish enough to take any of it off during battle, but he was looking forward to finally reaching the Wood Elves instead of dealing with their traps and arrows.
The Wood Elves kept retreating. The orcs pressed forward to barriers. The Wood Elves retreated behind the traps into the camp. The orcs pressed forward in the camp, the Wood Elves retreated to the river bank. The orcs press forward to the river bank, the Wood elves were already on the other side. At this rate, the orcs would chase the Wood Elves straight into the Frozen Fleet and they would all freeze to death.
Skordo was on the bank of the river nearest to the Stronghold when Marekki galloped up to him as fast as her four legs would carry her.
“Wait!,” Marekki shouted.
“Join the fight, or get back to bandaging the injured!,” Skordo yelled back.
“You are needed elsewhere!,” Marekki reported urgently.
“I am needed here,” Skordo replied defiantly, “Elsewyr can wait!” He strode into the river, deflecting arrows with his gauntlets and great sword.
Just before he managed to get his other foot into the water, Marekki grabbed his boot with her teeth, and tugged at him to come back with her. Failing to even pause the towering orc even slightly, Marekki pleaded, “The chief! He asks for you and this one specifically!”
Skordo waded into the river, thrilled to be in the midst of battle once again, and called back, “Tell him I’m busy!”
Marekki knew the water was going to be cold, it would soak right through her fur down to her skin. Her whole body trembled, but she followed Skordo in anyway. Marekki screeched at the chill of the water. She nearly turned around, but she was stubborn. Keeping her head above water, she persisted, “This one insists. The chief needs you.” Skordo soldiered on. Marekki begged, “This one needs you.”
Skordo stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face Marekki. Marekki was treading water and looking up at him with big, pleading eyes. Skordo’s heart burned for victory, but his heart broke to see her look at him that way. He responded, “Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess I better.”
Skordo scooped Marekki out of the water. Gratefully, Marekki climbed on top of his shoulders, well away from the icy water.
Before they headed back toward the Stronghold, Skordo shouted to his troops, “Ashaka, everyone, do what you do best, and take ‘em out! I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Once they had passed the spiked barriers, Marekki revealed, “You must go to the docks. That is where the chief is.”
Skordo feared the worst and started to run, his wet, heavy armour slowing him down.
Upon reaching the docks, Skordo was met with a frightened sight. All ten of the Wood Elf longboats were fully manned again. King Cameron had managed to sneak in reinforcements during the battle.
Skordo questioned why the tower units weren’t attacking the fleet, and then he saw Chief Abzug standing on the deck of the lead boat with Nalgorfin, Beladess, and Dongregorn. He paled with fear, but approached the lead boat any way.
The boarding plank was attached to the lead boat and the dock, for the first time in a year.
Skordo looked them over and then announced, “The battle is over that way, in case you missed it. Or are you so used to sitting on your boats, you decided to wait for us to come to you?”
“Permission to come aboard?”, Marekki asked before anyone could answer Skordo.
Nal replied to Marekki with surprise, “This may be the first time you asked before boarding our ship,” and then nodded affirmatively, “Yes, you may come aboard.”
Marekki leapt off Skordo’s shoulders and on to the boat.
Marekki was displeased. She mumbled to herself, "This is becoming too much." She was in the Longhouse storeroom searching through the various crates and barrels for tempting bribes to exchange for information. She pilfered some Rye, Corn Flower, Lemon, Bervez Juice, and random glyphs. She added them to her satchel that already held Lady's Smock and Wormwood that she had foraged from the area surrounding the Stronghold.
The faint rays of dawn filtered through the camp.
Marekki sought out Menninia and Nednor, but they were nowhere to be found. A wood elf told her they both had begged to join the marines on the cart out of the Stronghold last night.
Satchel still full, she headed to the fleet. The boarding plank had been withdrawn since the night after they had arrived. The boats were a short swim away from the dock. Marekki hated swimming, so she had also borrowed a grappling hook.
Marekki shot her grappling hook at the mast and pulled herself onto the lead ship. Then she requested, "Permission to come aboard?"
"Marekki requests permission as a matter of respect," she replied, and then bowed to him.
Nal was annoyed, but Marekki was being her most adorable self. Something about her chased away the chill of icy bay, and the lingering chill of Coldharbour. Some days he thought he would never shake off the horrors that plagued his memories from Coldharbour, but sharing breakfast with his friends and listening to the adorable spiel of the tenacious alfiq he thought may be he could feel normal, may be even happy.
"Marekki is pleased to see your boats restored to an upright position," she told him.
Nal, Bela, and Don remained silent.
"You supplies must be ruined," Marekki supposed, with utmost sympathy.
"We're fine," Nal lied.
"Marekki still imagines you could use some fresh supplies," Marekki pulled out the bribes, and added, "With a little Perfect Roe, you could make a powerful fishing Lure. Without, you may still make an Essence of Detection." She set the items on the bench next to her.
Don leaned forward, ready to snatch them up.
Nal barred Don's way with his arm. "We have no need," Nal lied to Marekki again.
"Of corse you have no need," Marekki conceded, "but this one imagined you may have a want."
"These gifts? Do they come from you or from our King?", Nal asked cautiously.
Marekki did not lie, but she did not volunteer the whole truth. The Wood Elves did not need to know that Shebakh knew and had given her free access to the entire Stronghold. She told him only, "Me. I gathered these especially for you!" Technically she had collected these for any Wood Elf who would provide her information, but if Nal liked then it could be for him especially.
"We appreciate the gesture, but we could not possibly impose upon the Stronghold, so bereft of supplies as it is," Nal replied.
Marekki was disappointed, but she gathered up her bribes back into her own satchel. Nal was either too smart or too noble to accept bribes; Marekki could not decide which. She still hoped to gain information. She told them, "Marekki hears whispers the orcs are planning to stay in their Stronghold until the next moons phase. This one believes it is a wise time to send word for more provisions, and perhaps, for you also to rest, yes?"
Nal regarded her carefully. He decided she meant was she was saying. If this was true was another matter, but she seemed to believe her own words. His words were guarded, but he replied, "The Bosmer would enjoy the opportunity," and then in a more guarded manner, added, "We have no plans in the coming weeks. Neither hostile nor friendly."
This was not everything Marekki had hoped for, but it was no escalation as she had feared. She replied, "Marekki is pleased to hear this."
"Tell the chief," Nal responded. Her reaction was revealing.
Marekki jumped slightly, and replied, "This one would love to have the ear of the chief! However, this one is but a humble khajiiti traveller!" This had been true once, and was still partially true. While she never spoke to the chief directly, she did have the ear of General Shebakh and Captain Skordo. She had also been the one to pick up King Cameron's letters from Zhasim's dead drop and convey them to Skordo to pass them on to Chief Abzug. Marekki had never spoken to the king nor to the chief directly, but she was at the heart of all the communications coming into, and going out of Morkul.
Marekki left with her bribes still in her satchel, and no new information. She had at least found out the one thing she was most interested in learning; that she had time. Both the Orcs and the Wood Elves needed time to plan and rebuild their forces and their supplies. Neither one was planning a scorched earth battle, nor a midnight strike. This was good. Marekki could work with this. She could send word to King Cameron through Zhasim, and try to help Skordo reason with Chief Abzug.
Marekki entered the Stronghold from the path under the tower behind the Longhouse.
In the Longhouse, Skordo was having breakfast. Upon seeing Marekki, Uzhag brought a plate for her to Skordo's table.
Marekki jumped from the floor onto the chair and then up onto the table beside her fresh plate. It was pickled mackerel and stale bread. She sneered. "This one has supplies to make a type of fishing lure and a stealth potion. Marekki had expected the Admiral to take it, but it is still in this one's satchel. This one may yet go out later and do some stealthy fishing. Would you care to join me? We can fish outside the root cellar," she offered.
"Can't think of anything better to do," Skordo replied, and then added, "I'll meet you around dusk after I'm done helping with the clay warriors. Dusk is better for fishing anyway."
Marekki purred, "You are spending a lot of time with Shebakh these days. This one wonders if you are making anything more than clay warriors."
"She is my commanding officer," Skordo reminded Marekki.
Marekki inquired, "And if she were not?"
Skordo grinned at the thought, "Then I'd be having breakfast with her instead of you."
"I knew it!", Marekki squealed with delight, "Marekki has a plan for peace, and this is all the more reason."
"I'm in," Skordo replied, "What's the plan?".
Marekki picked at her fish, and then reported, "Marekki did her rounds today. The two Wood Elves that once ate here; they ran off on the cart with the marines."
"I know. I was there," Skordo replied.
"Of corse," Marekki replied slightly embarrassed, and then she pushed on, "They were lousy contacts any way. However, Admiral Nalgorfin told me that he does not expect to move until the next moon. We knew the general needed the time to finish the," Marekki lowered her voice and leaned in toward Skordo,"units, but it seems to Wood Elves are waiting on supplies, and this one supposes, reinforcements."
Skordo chuckled, and then replied, "Yeah, we got 'em good."
"It is the calm before the storm," Marekki advised, "This one noticed something interesting while scouting the Wood Elf camp."
"Really?", Skordo Inquired.
"Something Marekki will want to share with General Shebakh," Marekki responded, and then picked up the last of her fish, "After breakfast."
The next 2 weeks passed quietly. It was an uneasy peace, but it was quiet.
Marekki and Skordo went fishing together many times.
Skordo spent his days with Shebakh, Rexus, and Ashaka in the root cellar creating more clay warrior suits and helping the orc warriors into them.
Marekki spent her days foraging the nearby areas for herbs and potion ingredients. Anything to bolster the Stronghold's dwindling supplies.
Nal was too noble, and too suspicious, to accept anything from Marekki. Nal and his crew of 12 spent a lot of time fishing and sharing stories. The days were tense and guarded, but the nights were filled with an unexpected mirth. They had nowhere to go and nothing to do except entertain each other to keep their minds off the upcoming battle. Nal made the best of it to the extent he could, and it wasn't so bad.
The Wood Elves in the camp ignored Marekki entirely, and had made it clear she was no longer welcome. She did not want to visit the place anymore considering what they had done to it. The Valenwood had found a foothold in the camp, and the Wild Hunt had stirred in the soldiers. The wood elves of the camp were all too eager for the upcoming battle.
The Stronghold stood in between. Supplies were dwindling, but the orcs keep their heads held high and tried to make the best of it. They also tried to make lager, barrels of it. Water was one thing that was plentiful. Between the well, the streams, and the bay, there was enough water for everyone. Marekki suggested bathing was something everyone might try more of, but this was ignored.
The orcs also spent a lot of time fighting. Marekki could not decide id this was a sign of rising tension within the fort, or the orcs way of releasing tensions. Marekki preferred her people's way of releasing tensions, and though a Senche-raht was not her first choice, she did not mind the company. Marekki wondered if the orcs would fight so much if the chief did not insist on hoarding all the "wives" for himself, and let the men marry for love. Though, perhaps fraternisation in the barracks when no one could leave was not a clever idea. On the other hand, Marekki could not tell the difference between orc fighting and flirting. There may have been more going on than she realised.
Marekki managed to have Gunnilier tell Zhasim about what she had learned and her idea for parley.
General Shebakh returned to the root cellar. Instantly she saw Ashaka was awake and standing outside formation with her battle axe at the ready. "What's wrong? What happened? Did you have another nightmare?", she asked concerned.
Ashaka shouted, "One of the Wood Elves was sneaking around in here!" Then she added, "He was part of her crew, the one that killed me and nearly killed the chief." The soul gem pulsed brightly, her rage flowing from it into the clay warrior suit. In the last two weeks the clay warrior suit had begun to mould itself to Ashaka's spirit, looking and sounding like her more and more, day by day.
General Shebakh sighed heavily, and then leaned against her desk. There were no chairs in the entire root cellar. In fact, the desk was the only piece of furniture, unless you counted the shelves for the root vegetables. Shebakh was the only flesh and blood mortal in the place and at the moment, she felt it more than ever.
Shebakh replied glumly, "It was bound to happen eventually. You can only keep an army of one hundred orcs a secret for so long." Shebakh inspected her desk. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing was missing, and nothing seemed suspicious. However, Shebakh had her suspicions. She asked Ashaka, "How much did they see?"
"All of it," Ashaka replied. With her battleaxe still at the ready, she asked, "Are we going to move up the next battle?"
General Shebakh sifted through her papers, frowned, and then responded, "Not every fallen orc warrior has a clay body yet. I don't want to deprive any of my soldiers of the chance at revenge."
"They know what we're doing now," Ashaka reminded Shebakh.
"We cut their forces in half today," General Shebakh replied defensively, and then calmly added, "It will take time for them to receive reinforcements."
"Then this is the time to attack!", Ashaka urged fearfully.
General Shebakh reassured her, "This is the time to prepare." She leaned heavily against her siege strategy table, and fought back tears. Her voice was rough with the strain, "Less than a year ago, I was the representative of the Fighter's Guild out here. Not exactly a prized post, but it was close to home. And now I'm leading a dwindling army through an endless siege. If anyone else dies because of me..." Her voice cracked as the guilt hit her in waves. She cried for all those she had lost, and all those she feared losing. A year of keeping it in, disarming, deflecting, and defending, the grief hit in her waves. Tears quietly streamed down her face. She was barely hiding it, but she would not let anyone see her cry, especially Ashaka who had been through so much.
"It wasn't your fault," Ashaka assured her.
Shebakh managed to quietly reply, "I know. I know. We simply weren't prepared."
"It's not your fault," Ashaka repeated, and marched over to here, slowly, heavily, the only way her new body could move. "Shebakh, listen to me. I know. I was there. You followed the Stronghold's plan. You followed orders. And, by Malacath, when the battle was lost, you were the last one up on the bridge still pulling up ladders and shooting down fireballs. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
A sob escaped Shebakh's lips. She replied angrily, "Is that what an orc is supposed to do? Retreat?" She smashed her fist onto the table, and then ranted, "We retreated back into our thick, stone walls, scurrying away like frightened skeevers. Had we know we'd be starving on our own home, resurrecting our dead, for Malacath's sake, would we have retreated? Or would we have chosen the die like orcs?!" Shebakh finally lost it. She sunk to the floor and wept.
Ashaka stood over her, stunned, wordless. Ashaka had no answer. There were no easy answers.
After a moment of weakness, witnessed only by a lone clay soldier, General Shebakh managed to pull herself together, stand on her own two feet, and brush the dirt off her grieves. "Crying for yesterday will not fix today. We still need to prepare for tomorrow. I promised you your revenge, Ashaka, and you shall have it, on the battle field, as an orc ought."
"I believe in General Shebakh, you've never let us down. Not while you've been in command," Ashaka replied.
"Don't let Chief Abzug hear that," Shebakh joked, shoving down her pain.
Ashaka managed to laugh, and replied, "And what if the old man did? He was never good enough for me."
Shebakh nodded, "That's right. You are the one who brought back the Hand of Morkul."
"Yeah, I did," Ashaka replied proudly.
"Yeah, you did," Shebakh turned her head to Ashaka and smiled.
