Fantasy The Plaguelands (OPEN FOR ALL)

[marorda]

VOTES FOR THIS QUEST REMAIN OPEN FOR +/- 12 HOURS (May be longer if I'm not online)


"It is a plague, I swear it, good sir! It is only thanks to the guidance of the Lady we managed to escape safely. You have to believe us!"


You have heard it on the streets before. Refugees coming to the capital, telling tales of a plague ruining their village. They claim they had no choice but fleeing. The guidance of the Lady, a newly risen deity, brought them to safety. But the main and settled Temple has heard no such tales. They have their shrines and smaller temples in the barony of Highmoore too. Surely, if there truly was anything going on, they would have heard of it before. These peasants probably just fled to escape the rule of their landlord, and now hope for a new life here, in the capital. They're also not too fond of the idea that the Lady guided them back. A new Goddess rising in faith and popularity threatens their old and already settled beliefs.


But now, a few weeks later, the Temple seems to have changed its mind. A call went out to the most renowned and brave adventurers, asking them to head out to Highmoore and figure out what's going on.  They promise great rewards to those who return and can tell them what is going on in the barony, about five days traveling from the capital city. You are the leader of a brave band of adventurers. Thirteen able-bodied men and women are under your command. And you too have heard the Temple's call. What do you do?


> Find and question the refugees first. If they truly came from such a dangerous area unharmed, surely they know something.


> Inquire with the Temple. Why the sudden change of mind if they didn't believe the peasants at first?


> Split your group to question both groups.


> Don't question. Accept the call and head out. If there really is something going on, there is no time to lose. And besides... great payment and fame await!

 

[budgieboo]

> Inquire with the Temple. Why the sudden change of mind if they didn't believe the peasants at first?

 

[marorda]

> Inquire with the Temple. Why the sudden change of mind if they didn't believe the peasants at first?


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


You have to admit, you're curious as of to what's going on around here. Up until not too long ago, the temple didn't even appear to believe those peasants, and now they suddenly want to send people out? That is strange, if not a little suspicious. Once the crowd seems to have dispersed a bit, you step up to the Paladin who made the announcement.


"Me and my group might be interested in helping you," you say. "However, I must ask..."


The paladin looks at you with a small frown, waiting your you to continue speaking.


"Up until recently, you disregarded the refugees, thinking them to be no more than liars. Yet now you call for aid. What has caused this sudden change of mind?"
The Paladin remains silent and motions you to follow him inside. Clearly he doesn't wish for everyone to overhear his answer.


Inside the Temple the Paladin looks at you and sighs.


"We should have expected people to ask questions," he said.


The man explains to you they indeed did not believe the refugees at first. The Temple has several shrines and locations in Highmoore, and they heard no such tales of plague from any of their Brothers and Sisters in the northwest. However, a trusted advisor within the city told them it might be worth checking out, as there might be a reason why they heard no news. So after discussing it withing their council, they decided to send a scout to check the area. The border with the barony of Highmoore is only about five days traveling, so they had excepted the scout to be back in two weeks, sixteen days at most. Or at least that they would have sent back a message. Neither of these happened. The scout has been gone for little over three weeks and is currently reported as MIA. The temple now suspects there might indeed be something going on. They cannot just afford to send more people there, as matters elsewhere in the kingdom have their attention, so they now call on the people.


You consider the man's words for a moment and decide to:


> Ask about the Lady, the new deity the refugees mentioned


> Ask if you can speak to this trusted advisor


> Speak to the refugees


> Split your group so you can do all three at once


> Offer your help

 

[budgieboo]

> Ask about the Lady, the new deity the refugees mentioned

 

[marorda]

> Ask about the Lady, the new deity the refugees mentioned


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


"And what about the Lady?" you ask. "You do not seem to be eager to hear it was Her guidance that brought them here."


"Our superiors aren't fond of the idea indeed," the paladin tells you. "Thirty years ago, nobody had even ever heard of the Lady. It wasn't until the king turned seven people heard of her."


You have heard about this. King Roderick of Aevos, throughout the realm known as the Miracle King, started performing magical feats by the time he was seven years old. It started small, but his powers grew as he became older. He would often speak of the woman in his dreams. She calls herself the Lady and has awoken to aid the kingdom, for she had seen a great danger was coming, one older than the gods themselves. Besides aiding the king in his miracles, her focus seems to be on healing the people. Much like the Temple does. The Faith of the Temple, however, is much older than the Church of the Lady, who seems to be on the rise. Is is merely a matter of concurrence then? You decide to carefully ask. The paladin chuckles.


"It would seem so," he admits. "Many of the people love the Lady, our king included. Some within the temple seem slightly more conservative, but if you were to ask me, she had already proven her existence. If the refugees speak the truth, though, I wonder why she has not acted yet..."


"I wonder too," you mumble. Although you aren't much of a religious person yourself, you do know the gods exist. And certainly you understand the Temple's point of view. If the Lady is truly rising in faith, it would make sense the Temple wishes to solve whatever is going on to re-establish themselves with the people. They wouldn't want to lose followers after all.


With this matter cleared up, you decide to:


> Ask if you can speak to this trusted advisor


> Speak to the refugees to hear their side of the story


> Split your group so you can do both of the above


> Offer your help

 

[budgieboo]

> Speak to the refugees to hear their side of the story

 

[marorda]

  > Speak to the refugees to hear their side of the story


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


You excuse yourself from the Temple, telling the Paladin you wish to search for some more information before you decide anything else. The Paladin nods understandingly, but also reminds you that if there is truly something going on, there might not be too much time before you need to act. You can understand this, so with this in the back of your mind, you go into the city and start your search for the refugees. It takes you a while to get on the right track, since the capital city is rather large. But eventually, after asking around in town, people manage to point you to a small group of sickly looking people, sitting on the street in front of the slums. They look terrible, their journey here certainly having taken its toll. Finding a home within the city, even in the slums, is long work, and though they have likely started already, they are far from there yet. The refugees look at you as you approach them.


"So you must be the refugees the people have been talking about?" you ask them in a friendly tone. You want information, after all, not intimidate them.


"We are, good sir," one of them replies. It is a man, a couple of years younger than you are and seemingly the most able-bodied of the bunch.


"Excellent," you say. "If you don't mind, I have some questions for you. About what you have seen."


The man looks at you and your group behind you, then at the small group of his own. He considers for a moment before speaking up again.


"Surely I could help you, good sir," the man says. "But as you can see, we aren't faring too well here. Perhaps you could... be of some help?"


> Sigh and give the man some coins you can spare. You can only hope they will spend it on food and resources, not on booze in the tavern when you turn your back on them [kindness]


> Demand the man he'll tell you what he knows [turn hostile]


> "I don't have time for this..." [leave the refugees sitting on the street]


> Reader's choice

 

[budgieboo]

> Sigh and give the man some coins you can spare. You can only hope they will spend it on food and resources, not on booze in the tavern when you turn your back on them [kindness]

 

[marorda]

You realize the refugees probably haven't had a proper meal in a while, and they do need help to support themselves in this city, be it to get a place to stay, build a home of their own, or just get food. Asking for help in return of possibly valuable information that could save hundreds of lives seems rather selfish, but the people likely have no other choice. With a sigh you take your pouch off your belt and give the man the coins you can spare. But you swear... if you hear reports tomorrow of this man getting into a drunk fit at the tavern...


As you hand the man the coins, he gratefully takes and pockets them, smiling at you. "Thank you, sir," he says politely.


"Now... as of your story..." you motion the man to start speaking.


"It is a plague, good sir. A plague, I tell you, truly," he says. "Our crops started withering and plenty fell ill."


"What about you lot?"


"We left in time, before things turned badly. But on our way here, we saw several villages that had encountered the same fate. Some of them were entirely abandoned. We fled towards Edheglast in the hopes of escaping, and only few of us were lucky enough to make it."


"But, if you weren't sick when you fled, then how come you still lost people?"


"There is dark things going on in Highmoore, good sir. Very dark things. Unholy beings ravaging the land."


"Unholy?" you frown. In a world where an orc is hardly regarded as more than cheap workforce, where several kinds of magic are forbidden, there could be plenty of things considered unholy by the people of this land. Of course you too know there are creatures more vile than any other being in existence.


The refugee man looks around, his voice turning more hushes, as if he doesn't want anyone, including his frightened looking companions to hear him.


"We have seen things, good sir," he whispers. "You see, the creatures I spoke of... were humans, once. Now they are less, and more."


"Less and more?" you tilt your head in confusion. This man's talking madness.


"Yes," the man nods eagerly. "Because... well... they're dead. Risen dead attacking their own. They crawl out at night and attack those they can get their dead claws on."


> Undead? That's ridiculous! Impossible.


> Undead? Do go on...


> Undead? Maybe the Temple should know of this.

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

>Undead? Maybe the Temple should know of this.

 

[marorda]

> Undead? Maybe the Temple should know of this.


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


"Undead?" you nearly choke on your own salvia and try your very best not to start shouting and attract unwanted attention from everyone else on the streets. It has been many decades since anyone in the kingdom last reported undead. As far as anyone knows, the dead rising again is nigh impossible. Only the oldest races can confirm things like this have actually happened before, that they aren't merely bedtime stories to get little kids to behave.  "I should go back and tell the Temple!" you exclaim, turning high on your heels and hurrying back towards the main Temple. You faintly hear the man behind you shouting something at you, seemingly terrified about something you wouldn't know. But there is no time left to lose! The Temple seems to suspect there is something wrong, and now you heard the story of this poor, unfortunate man and his company.


You almost stumble into the Temple, where the same man you've spoken to before still sits there, waiting.


"Back already?" he asks you.


"The refugee told me the dead are rising," you say, getting straight to the point. Several conversations that had been going on between Clerics, Priests, and Paladins fall silent. Many eyes turn to look at you. The color seems to drain from this Paladin's face.


"Don't speak of such unholy things in a place of healing!" another man exclaims, clearly higher in rank than the one you've spoken to up until now. "It is impossible for such a thing to happen. It's been ages and we took care of the problem by it's roots."


"Apparently you haven't," you blurt out before realizing it yourself. You swear you can hear everyone holding their breaths.


The silence is deafening, and you can almost cut the tension with a knife. Have you perhaps crossed a line here? You probably have. But... come on, you have to admit they were asking for it. They refuse to see the problem here. First they wouldn't listen to the refugees about the plague, then they sent a man who never came back. Now they hear of the undead, and again they won't believe it. Of course you understand their side too, maybe just a little bit. After all, it is true there haven't been any sightings from the undead in decades, and the kingdom has been at peace since. Now these refugees show up and cause chaos among those whom they have spoken to. You inwardly shake your head. Something is definitely going on, and you would like to know what it is. Is either of the two parties hiding something, or is there truly something going on without anybody able to pinpoint the exact cause?


"If you truly think there is something going on," the man you've pissed off says, eerily calm. "Then maybe you should take action and answer our call to head to Highmoore?"


"Well I..." you start, thinking of how you wish to end this sentence.


> thought you'd never ask!


> don't think I'm cut out for this task...


> would like to speak to this trusted advisor first

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> don't think I'm cut out for this task...


I mean, we seemed pretty spooked by the idea of the undead after all.

 

[marorda]

> don't think I'm cut out for this task...


I mean, we seemed pretty spooked by the idea of the undead after all.

"I think you should find someone else for someone else to do this for you." 


The thought of Undead wandering the lands have shaken you up rather badly, and you wouldn't want you or your band of adventurers to be in such a severe danger. After all, many heard the stories of rising dead, eating the slain and turning others into undead as well. No, if that is truly what's going on in Highmoore, let the Temple send someone more capable, like a Paladin or Cleric better capable of vanquishing those lost souls. You turn your back on the Paladins, Priests, and Clerics in the Temple and head back outside. You and your band of adventurers stay in the city for a little while before heading out to another part of the kingdom, avoiding Highmoore. You hear no more of the undead or anything going on there for a long while.


Months pass, and by the time the rumors of several villages and cities having been slain entirely reach the capital, it is already much too late. A vast wave of undead march the lands, led by other adventurers sent their way in your stead. Maybe you could have done something, maybe it would have been you to lead the undead into battle. You will never know. All you realize is the kingdom is lost.


END OF QUEST.


Do you wish you redo any of the choices made on an earlier point?


> No thanks


> Yes, namely: [comment your choice]

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> Yes, namely: Our last act of cowardice. Instead, let us go ahead and answer that call to Highmoore.

 

[marorda]

You have the strangest visions of terror as you stand there in the Temple, but they are enough for you to make up your mind. After some more consideration, you look at the man who spoke to you and smile confidently at him. Likely the visions in your mind are just that alone, visions. A fear and doubt instilled in your mind after hearing the refugee's story. If the man speaks the truth, and you have no reason to assume he was lying, there is indeed something dire going on in Highmoore. Heading out and exploring, seeing what's going on with your own eyes, seems like the right decision to make. Even if it is just so you can find that missing scout and have him sent a message to the temple to support the claims made. And surely you and your band of seasoned adventurers are more likely to last than one simple scout alone, if it is truly something that bad. You are likely to stand longer in a fight and report back safely.


"I think you have found the right men for your task," you finish your sentence. It feels as if the silence in the room lasted much longer than it really had. A weight seems to fall off your shoulders knowing you made the right choice. The people of the temple too seem relieved someone brave enough finally stood up to answer their call. They offer you and your group some horses and standard provisions, at least enough to last you until you reach Highmoore. They bid you good luck and farewell as you exit again. The promise of great fame and rewards if you successfully return are confirmed. The faintest hint of a smile creeps around the corners of your mouth as you head back to the main square. You and your group... you will return victorious. You will figure out what's going on in Highmoore and solve it if you can. When you return, you will no longer simply be a group of adventurers, no, you will be heroes. Renowned, there will be nobody who wouldn't know your name. Your future shines as bright as the light of the Lord. Or the Lady, if you will.


Back on the square, you gather your men and do a quick headcount. All thirteen are present. You head to the tavern to pack your belongings along with what the Temple has given you before heading to the stables, where you show the letter with the Temple's command and seal. The stableboy gives you the horses the Temple has promised you. Not enough for all of your people, but you can take turns, right? So there you go, with your belongings, thirteen men and women following you, and seven horses you leave the city's gate and head for the northwest, towards Highmoore.


A good few miles away fro the capital, sounds draw your attention. As you look in the direction of the sounds, you see an abandoned refugee camp. Or well.. it would be abandoned if it weren't for the orcs busy looting it. You recall the refugee shouting something after you when you so suddenly left for the Temple. Maybe he tried to warn you for the orcs out here? You weren't really paying attention to the man anymore. From your point of view, it is logical to assume these orcs have chased the refugees out of their camp so they could take whatever little possessions they had for their own. However, something else might be the case too. You halt your horses for a moment and decide to...


> Start shouting at the orcs to get their attention. Maybe you can talk to them?


> Charge towards the camp. The orcs must have chased the innocent people away and they should pay for their crimes.


> Join the orcs. Maybe there's something interesting left behind there.


> Ignore the orcs and move on. Whether they chased away the refugees or not, it is none of your business. Besides, you're on your way to Highmoore!

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> Start shouting at the orcs to get their attention. Maybe you can talk to them?

 

[marorda]

> Start shouting at the orcs to get their attention. Maybe you can talk to them?


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


You frown slightly upon seeing the orcs in the camp. Curious as to why they would be looting the place, you ride your horse forward for just a couple of more feet, towards the camp.


"Oy!" you shout at them at the top of your lungs. "What are you doing over there?"


The orcs gaze up at you. Some of them seem immediately ready to grab their weapons and attack you for disturbing their... business. However, one of them raises a hand to halt them. The slightly older orcs has many battle scars, a sign of honor among these people. He appears slightly wiser than the rest. The other orcs seem to respect him, so it is safe to assume he is their chieftain.


"Why's that your business, human?" he shouts back at you. He clearly isn't keen on answering you, but for now he refrains from violence. You suppose you can understand this. In most of the cities, orcs are regarded to be less than dirt, nothing more than cheap replaceable workforce. Most orcs live in the slums, and others live in their clans outside the cities. It isn't uncommon for orcs to be hunted down my certain men who want to "rid the land of impurities", meaning all that isn't human. You take a quick glance at your group. Sure, most of your men and women are humans, but you have little to no issues with other kin that would join your band.


"I mean you no harm," you tell him with a polite smile, jumping off your horse and approaching the chieftain, leaving your weapon behind as a sign of good faith. "I am merely curious. In the city we have spoken to refugees who speak of a plague in Highmoore. Surely there must have been more on their way here, and now we spot you in an abandoned camp."


"You'd better not be accusing us, man. I'll cut your tongue out!" the chieftain threatens. "This camp was abandoned when we found it. Not a soul to be seen around, but all their stuff was here."


"Really now?" you furrow a brow, finding that a little hard to believe.


"We don' get it either," the chieftain shrugs. "But it didn't look like anyone was coming back, so we take whatever we can use to make a living."


"And... have you perhaps seen anything out of the ordinary in or around the camp?" you ask. "Any clues as to what might've happened to them?"


"Feel free to look for yourself. Just don't touch our loot," the chieftain says. You nod your head and walk towards the camp.


The orc's words appear true: there is not a sign anyone has ever been in the camp. No traces of blood, no struggle, not even footprints in the dirt that do not belong to orc feet. Yet everything looks like someone certainly lived here. Coins, bedrolls, small backpacks with everything a simple peasant would take along when fleeing their home. Tokens, small heirlooms, simple everyday belongings. But... no people. As if... as if something just swooped by and erased the people from existence. The site is almost too clean. Then you spot it, in the corner of your eye. A black feather, partially hidden under a bedroll. You approach it and pick up the feather, holding it up against the sunlight. A crow feather. How peculiar. Now that you think of it... in the city and in the trees along the road, you have seen an awful lot of those birds. You got the eerie feeling they were watching you, and several people in the group have spoken up about this too. But you dismissed it as nothing but superstition. Even the rumors about how when a bunch of crows sit on the bell tower in the capital, death is near. You merely shook your head and chuckled when people started saying their prayers to either the Lord or the Lady when indeed a murder of crows landed on the tower.


An involuntary shiver runs down your spine. You turn your head back to your band who still stand there, waiting for you. In the trees around them, and the trees around the camp... are they. Crows, crows everywhere. They hadn't made a single sound in the whole time you were in the camp. They were just watching. You realize the orc spoke the truth. The camp was indeed abandoned when they got there. But something else must have been there before the orcs came, making the people leave without leaving a trace. The chieftain seems to notice your nervousness and approaches you again, looking at the feather in your hand, then follows your gaze to the many many crows surrounding the camp.


"Might I ask you something else?" you ask, trying to keep your nerves under control. The chieftain nods and stands motionlessly next to you, his eyes fixed on the crows too.


"Your kind comes from the mountains mostly, is it not? Highmoore isn't too far from the mountains. Do you maybe know more of what's going on there?"


The orc shakes his head. "We left before things started to happen. Something drove us away, towards these regions. None know what it is, but something is calling us here."


"And have you seen anything strange on your way from your home to here?" you ask.


"Not much. Just that there were a lot of..."


The conversation is interrupted by a piercing yell.


"CROWS!"


As if they have been given a silent command, the crows from all around you fly up into the sky and dive towards you, your men, and the orcs. Talons scratch your skin, beaks peck violently at your face.


You....


> Start to violently flap your arms around in a try to shake the crows off


> Attempt to attack the crows


> Make a run for it

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> Attempt to attack the crows

 

[marorda]

> Attempt to attack the crows


-----------


As the black cloud of birds keeps flying around you, pecking and clawing at your skin, you quickly grow annoyed with them. Trying to swat them doesn't appear to do a lot, so you resort to unsheathing your blade and swing it at them. The crows are agile and have no trouble avoiding you, but with so many in a close proximity you're bound to hit some of them. Your blade slices through a crow of two. They fall apart in dust and ashes and you're convinced you smell... sulfur? The crows keep cawing as they swirl around you, the orcs, your men. Everyone has by now picked up something that either is a weapon, or should pass for one. You battle the relentless birds with more fury than you had ever suspected to attack a bird with. After several minutes of fighting the birds, you're growing weary. The flock of birds is growing thinner, and some of them already seem to be fleeing the scene. Others that remain still continue their attack.


One of the orcs screams, his hands covering his eyes. His hands are bloody, and seeing as how the crows fall apart in dust and ashes, it is easily assumed the blood is his own. The scream briefly pulls your attention his way. You see a crow flying off with what you're pretty sure is the orc's eye in his beak. You shudder and get a bad taste in your mouth. Clearly the crows do not want you to see what's happened here, and now that you have, they need to deal with you one way or another. You wonder how and why. A bird isn't quite intelligent enough to think of these kind of plans of its own. Something has to be controlling them, but what? The murder of crows thins even further and you're nearly convinced you have won this battle. Nearly. For one more horrifying scream draws your attention. It is the orc Chieftain with whom you've been fighting nearly side to side. You smell burning hair and flesh. As you look his way, you see he is surrounded by several crows. Small sparks of fire shoot out of their beaks. But many small sparks is enough to make a fire, especially when the sparks hit fur. The Chieftain screams in pain and rolls on the ground, trying to douse the flames.


If you hadn't been sure before, you're definitely sure now: these are no normal crows. The last crows fly off, leaving the Chieftain to his fate.


You...


> are too shocked to act and can only watch as the Chieftain burns


> only have a waterskin with you, but hope it is enough to douse the flames


> Reader's Choice?

 

[Spicy Serious]

> only have a waterskin with you, but hope it is enough to douse the flames.

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> only have a waterskin with you, but hope it is enough to douse the flames.

 

[marorda]

2/2 vote!


> only have a waterskin with you, but hope it's enough to douse the flames.


----------


It's terrible to watch anyone suffering such terrible pain. If the orc lives, he will surely be severely scarred for life. But you might just be able to save this Chieftain's life. Without even thinking about it, you reach for your waterskin and shake it near your ear. There is still water in it, not much, but it might just be enough. You open the waterskin and pour the contents over the squirming orc on the ground. It helps, but only a little. The Chieftain glances at you, grateful at your attempts to help him, but you see in his eyes he doesn't expect to survive this surprisingly odd encounter. His body is severely burned and the horrid smell of his burned flesh makes your eyes water. Him rolling through the dirt and you pouring water on him was enough to douse the flames, but it wasn't enough. His body remains motionless on the ground and the remaining crows fly off to the distance.


You, your men, and the orcs stand silently, not quite knowing what to say or do next. The orcs mainly seem shocked. Shocked at the devilish crows, shocked at the death or their chief, and maybe mainly shocked that a total stranger decided to help them. They, like their now deceased Chieftain, seem grateful for the help you have given, even if it didn't entirely save them in the end. Quickly counting heads, you see some of the orcs have not survived the battle either. Your men seem to have been luckier, although some are clearly in no good shape and will need proper healing later.


You express your sympathies for the deceased and...


> move on with your men


> offer the orcs to join your band


> advise them to head to the capital


> advise them to head somewhere else

 

[Hush Hush Storytime]

> offer the orcs to join your band

 

[marorda]

(sorry for the delay guys! Classes have been quite busy! Real life has been busy in it's entirety... Plus, getting a little sick because I can't handle the heat isn't helpful either)


> Offer the orcs to join your band


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


Some of the orcs smile faintly at you, others seem entirely unresponsive. You remember having heard somewhere orcs treat their clan as a family, so their grief and loss are imaginable. Yet you hadn't expected orcs to respond like this. After all, usually they are portrayed as nothing but brutes. Sure, they aren't crying, but you see the pain in their eyes.


For a moment you consider your options. If you were to send them to the Capital, they would be forced to live in the slums and do the dirty work, if they would let them in at all. Much the same would happen in other cities. Their home is in the mountains, where you are heading to and where they have just fled from. Still... You cannot leave them here either. There is no telling what would happen next. For all you know, someone else will pass by and make the assumption you did not make. You can only think of one more thing to do: the right thing.


"You are welcome to come with me, if you wish," you tell them. "If what happened here is connected to what's going on in Highmoore, it has to be stopped, and I intend to do so."


They look at one another. Basically, you have just offered them to join your family. You have shown yourself to be a worthy man for various reasons.


- You did not attack them straight away, making assumptions


- You have shown bravery and skill in battle


- You have shown kindness when many others would not.


Considering the band of people already listening to you, it seems you are a good leader as well. You know there is a chance they will not join you, as they have fled from their home and might not have any intentions of returning. They look at each other and start discussing in their native Orcish language. Are they arguing, or does the language always sound like shouts and grunts? Some of your people are getting slightly uneasy. Maybe they just want to move on. Maybe they're not eager on you inviting the orcs. Maybe they expect to be attacked by the orcs. You remain your composure on the outside, but deep down inside you share their worries. After what feels like hours, the orcs seem to have come to a conclusion.


"We don't go," one of them says. "It dangerous. We left for reason."


"We will go," another says. "Chief would want this. The evil must stop."


Before parting ways, the orcs pay their final respects to the deceased Chieftain and place stones on a pile to mark his grave. They then look at each other once more and say goodbye the way only orcs would: by brotherly punching each other in the chest with a force that would likely bruise some ribs if they weren't so tough. The largest part of the group leaves, setting off in an unknown direction. The six remaining orcs glance at you. To them, you are now the Chieftain, a symbol of leadership and wisdom. They will not just question you and fight loyally at your side. Including yourself, your band now consists of 20 people.


You head off again, continuing your way to Highmoore. With not much more delay you reach the border of Highmoore five days later. The change in atmosphere isn't visible, but you can certainly feel it in your bones. Something unsettling, unnerving. Maybe you're just nervous due to all the stories you have heard. You hope it is. As you glance around, you can see you are not alone in how you feel. The landscape is barren. As in no farms or villages to see in miles around. There is vegetation, yes, but it does look somewhat unhealthy. And there is one much stronger feeling. The feeling of being watched.


> Ignore the feeling and move onward.


> Look around. Are there more crows, or something else that could give you this feeling?

 

[TheCountryWarrior]

>Look around. Are there more crows, or something else that could give you this feeling?