Expedition into the Unknown }{ [Open, for Plot...

[Chaz Algo]

Uphill, the squadron of pariah were motivated by some unknown source to a daring trek across the steep expanse approaching the crags ahead. Midnight was overtaking the land lit only by the glow of Volcanic activity somewhere in the explosive mountain range. The twilight spectacle of astrological purity shown down on an unlikely group, a slew of by their trappings had to be adventurers. Standard formation for a non-combative group, as a few of what seemed to be labouring lizards carried heavy loads on all fours. Black scaled lizards, larger than any Monitor but hardly a threat to a dragon of juvenile age. Only a quatro of them, surrounded by a more diverse team of a half-score. Light green, quirky creatures, these Goblins toating tent gear and food mustered up along the way. Flying just above them was another quatro, two deep black with a haunting sheen of volcanic obsidian. The other pairing a deep, murky red marble that made them difficult to spot here.

With all but a small distance ahead of the group was the most prominent of them. A trio of Orcs, a pair of Dwarves, and a single figure flying softly infront of the Orcs but not the Dwarves. All seemed well armed but hardly on the war path, even the scattered eight ghouls in finely crafted armor of scaley leather. Dark green with golden accents and large shields of deepest azure. The orange skin and sickly yellow eyes of the former Hobgoblins made them all but slaves to the will of one of them. Each of the undead minions toiled with a large pack of scales bound together, having no need for conventional gear, but whatever was the purpose of such plating? Only one might know, and she flew above another gargoyle which clawed across the ground, almost acting as a scent hound. A very strange creation, made of basalt and brimstone, accented with a heavy marble shield and seemingly crude weapons of obsidian. Trails of Hellish flame dripped and flared with each inhale.

Very observant was the leading flier, a stunning sight to behold for nearly any race. Darkened skin, ruddy yet darker like a shade of black was lightened but not made grey. Much hair, kept up in curled bun style by ties to hold down the crimson lockes matching the blouse of this womanly figure with wings. Leathery wings, spread from the open bit of her back, the corset and shirt customized for this feature halter style. Black bodice, soundng of leather interior but having the silk patina on the outside in tandem with the long pleated skirt with red between pleats and a red array of sash belts. Bearing no weapons, except a dagger for many uses and a whip for some other design. Haunting red eyes and sharp fingers shimmered in the heated flares in the distance. All the while the larger pair of the orcs kept up in her stride. The one in robes and no armor, exposed a muscular chest and carried both a scythe and a large axe, his face hidden by a mantle with high masking neck 'warmer' for lack of a better term. The grotesque one, also had an axe upon his back, as well as a sledgehammer, but carried a personal battering ram with a draconic face as some oddity of weaponry. The third Orc was quite able to skulk in the shadows, obscured by a cloak unlike the Dwarves. Chaos Dwaves, undoubtedly so. The more muscular of the two a red spiked haired lunatic of sorts, his beard spiked as well as the axe he carried. Leaner, was the dwarf with a blue mohawk, and a fuller beard who practiced swinging his bastard sword even as he marched. Keen eyes out to survey the best places for stone, mining, and most importantly of all to set up camp for morning. They had belated hours to burn, as the night stalkers found themselves exploring a land unknown. Treading lightly in respect of any potential Lords or Ladies of the area.

[Ragnus]

What a strange group. So diversified. Looks like fun is coming. A dark figure, in the shadow of a cliff, watched patiently as the hoard went by, taking particular interest in the large plating. How very strange...what use could it possibly have? Becoming more and more curious by the second, the dark being considered revealing himself, if only to get more insight on the strange object, but thought better of it. It would be far more useful if he could find an opportunity to aid them, in the hope of getting closer. He had played the game of deception too long to be rash. Instead, he stuck to the shadows and continued to follow them. Catching sight of the apparent lead of the group, his curiosity was heightened further. What is this being? From my realm as well, perhaps? Heh heh heh only time will tell.

[Chaz Algo]

Ashy and harsh, the gusts of volcanic wind amidst the vale made it difficult to travel for most especially with night waning with whatever amounts of sunlight threatening to pour over these lands looming. Landing ever so softly from a hovering glide the only female seemed to make a decisive gesture of the hands, leading the dwarves and axe bearing orcs to cover their advancements with a horse shoe shape. The array of goblins, ghouls, and lizards of a sort skulking closely behind as they all banded together entering a pass, or atleast one vast cliff and a deeper ridge or undesirable terrain. The shady, black skinned orc listened and made curt replies to the supranaturally beautiful figure swaying confidently beside him. "All I can tell is they stopped, do you know precisely much further it tis to the rendezvous? Our undead are unlikely to draw on like this, unless the skies remain choked." Sounding slightly displeased with the time pending thus far, she listened intently to the reply of her comrade. "Ah, if not jus beyond this ridge we should be seeing signs marked to the letter." Nodding affirmitively he was taken for his word.

Their steps would be hastened to clear this place of their presence, though the well armored cadavers would in their own turns gaze in the direction of the hidden being, a scaled creature if the black fleshed, red finned Lizardmen acting like beasts of burden may have smelt in the volcanic air. Indeed, they were of the same family but perhaps not the same breed, and certainly unlikely to have been neighbors but one never knew. These dark-scales were much larger than the average lizardfolk, more savage and less inclined to settle where any lesser breeds were except for enslaving or mutual community, though their idea of mutual was still quite barbaric. Lumbering, the gargoyles were the ones ahead and on the mark, upon the end of the ridge was infact a makeshift map of sorts. The inside of a shield, marked in ink and blood that was given to the bluehued half-orc whose upper body was well masked by half robes and a large mantle. "Lazy mountain-rooter best have some base-prep done.." Mumbled the towering mystic, as he directed and lead the score of them ahead. Mustered, the expedition party was all too eager to se ewhat ground they could have covered.

Before long, with the aide of flight driven scouting and the keen senses of the pack of lizards the lot of them was hailed by the one they had relied on a day or two prior to flesh out the terrain. A fair distance from a cave was a deep set of crags with natural niches deep into the rock, not much larger than a few yards across or deep at any one time. Clapping softly with a smirk of mockery the fiendess approached a Drow male, of appropriate age of his kind and wearing links of chain beneath a dark cloak and scraps of leather used to mask himself in the wilds. "Mournbringer.. for once I'm somewhat pleased to see you. Detail me? Everyone else, set up camp! Grabag, help me privatize this spot for myself." She indicated by snapping her tail at the middle cleft, before stepping away from the scene about to unfold at a rapid pace. The silver eyed figure cast in darkness nodded and spoke in the thick accent of his fore-fathers.

"And I'm finally glad you can call your man-meat away from my precense. Look, the cave has no marks as I can tell, though the cuts in the stone surface could be current inhabitants or a nomadic beast marking off empty places for it's lack of memory but wits to leave indicators. This sector is prime for safety, I had 'it' scale the rockface for me and test the durability. Even a moderate quake should be safe, any news from Blue-Boy?" She crossed her arms listening to his in-depth evaluation and she simply shook her head, rich reds flaring out some as she did so. "Well done, enjoy your reward.. I've been authorized to be.. *nice* to you.." She shivered slightly, sticking her tongue out before snapping her fingers. "Assemble me the leftovers, we could use the hands." She hissed out, as the Drow wandered around the perimeter slightly, sighing at how obvious their tracks were leading to this encampment.

All the while things were formating rapidly. The goblins and lizards unloaded and Grabbag cast one of his spells to create an invisible force no stronger than one of the goblins, but it busied itself stacking the red plates as the goblins began to unfold red and black leathery tarps. The gargoyles scaled the cliffside, finding and digging in places to rest and go stoic, but ever vigilant. A few minutes between the orcs and the ghouls and each plate was set up to make a ground-bound barricade. Upon the snapping of fingers, and a stern glare from the commander, the gruesome orc empied his rucksack full of bones as did the goblins their contribution before the gargoyles went ground level. Assisting the lizardmen, in a primary task of digging into the outter two niches which was not going incredibly fast but much better than one would assume. In the darkest corner sat a cloaked figure, with eyes glowing a malignant red that watched over the items piled nearby, all the while a basic makeshift and fortified lean-to was supported with a short pallisade and fresh keg to tap.

A simple fire was made as Grabbag the mage erupted some old wood with a fiery spell, his eyes alight with the wonder of conjured power. Ali dilligently piled up the bones in six full sets of bodies, a few left overs she pushed aside for the time being. Taking out of her belongings a single scroll she carried she sighed, studying it carefully before reciting the incantation and narrowly achieving her objective of animating the lot of them. They gave menacing looks and made motions to attack the mob surrounding them when she took out a profane symbol of undeath and shouted in a powerful but entirely feminine and caustic tongued refusal of their independance.

"Kneel before the Warden of Souls! Raise your boney heads and fold thine palms, for you will strike only those guided by your creator's hand!" The symbol glowing with her words, the undead found themselves under her enchantment with little evasion. "Now, arm yourselves and take up occupation moving those rocks to bolster the wall." She spoke clearly, the scroll crumbling to ash. Going to her seclusion to work on something fitting her mercurial attitudes, the skeletal fodder went to the small stockpile arranged and took up arms, mostly clubs and good weapons like morning stars or crossbows. The ghouls wore scaled leather armor, leaving the skeletons to take up the half dozen suits of scalemail and chainmail collected by previous journeys. They were indeed busy moving rocks dug up and shaved off by the claws of those in labour stockpiling the makeshift wall and removing any signs of cracks, bolstering with the rest by making backing for the walls before stacking rocks in such a way to make dividers, shelves, tables and anything else Grabbag deemed notable and worthy of their current abode. All the while alert of interlopers, welcoming but wary of a new face in their wayward set.

[Ragnus]

Vor'lekar was impressed. Obviously these were fairly seasoned adventurers. almost more like a militia in their efficiency. However, they did not cover their tracks very well. Perhaps they were not expecting to be followed? Or maybe they simply didn't care... Necromancy. How delicious. Still those shells are less effective for a decent defense. Perhaps I shall mention it if I get to meet the leader of these strange adventurers... In an attempt to look more trustworthy, Vor'lekar had clothed himself as a dwarf. His brown hair flowed into his beard, and his eyes were hazel and bright. In life he had been a fine specimen, now just another puppet to Vor'lekar's malicious intent. Armored only in padded chain mail and a light cloak, he made his best attempt to look friendly but far from harmless. The large maul he carried aided this attempt. Readying himself for whatever response one might expect from such an odd group, he strode forward, yelling in a gruff, firm baritone "Hail travelers! What news?"

[Jaretho]

Ahh the great tower of earth, with its million defenders. These beasts reared their heads, their jaws gnashed wildly in the wind as they saw their doom. A crushing force greater than any they had come to bear in their existence overtook the creatures and set quickly to crushing the life from their fragile bodies. As years of architectural progress was smothered by the great power above, twitching corpses wailed in protest of their inevitable deaths. Some of the bodies effluence left them attached to the belligerent who had so quickly ruined their intricate defenses. As the aggressor lifted himself from their fortified domicile he declared with a smile.

"Tribute of bodies for Garrana!"

A quick step of chinking metal was the swift reply to this as a joking voice intoned, "Very little to eat for Spider Goddess."

As the orcs around him laughed, Jaretho Stickerfoot watched as the young orc began furiously rubbing the ant corpses from his foot, a great deal of embarrassment evident on his face. Jaretho didn't care on that matter, and the fact that this recruit was in line for a great deal of punishment was only consolation for his jibe. Still the laughter didn't sit well with the commander, Jaretho knew they were in hellish territory, dragon lands.

"Alright you dirty worm-pigs, back in line! We march more, maybe fight here, stay on the ready!" Jaretho shouted with his usual intones of barbaric punishment if the orders did not receive swift reply.

As his group quickly complied, Jaretho relaxed and settled in to pacing the march, which quickly became a tiresome task and exhaustive to his men. Then a strange anomaly that Jaretho still couldn't understand began to occur throughout his line. For as his troops were bone tired and required all breath for the hard task at hand, they began to whisper furious complaints to one another, bequeathing their precious oxygen to the four winds. Jaretho heard little of these private diatribes, but enough to stoke his ire, particularly one he heard quite clearly.

"Why we here?"

"Don't know, march now."

"This stupid, I want to know why we here."

"Shut up, that why we here!"

This last addition gained a chuckle from the commander, but still a point needed to be made and quickly. Turing quickly and stepping toward the duo responsible for the outburst,

"State names!"

The two were shaken by the terse inquiry, but one managed to blurt, "Gluck!"

Jaretho smiled as he said, "That name or lunch?"

As the troops began to holler in laughter at what to them was an extremely clever joke, Jaretho was given pause as he looked beyond his small contingent. Dust poured into the air, a thin film, but it told much. Jaretho knew in his time with the Bone Scouts of Garrana that this meant trouble.

"We gonna have big fight!"

Silence,

Orc culture had its fair share of linguistic shortcomings, but what they did not lack was understanding in common phrase. All orcs knew a fight was a squabble between individuals, fun to watch and drink to, but a big fight...that was something more. Something glorious.

A cheer arouse from the contigent,

"Spider Smaka, Spider Tanaaa, Ohhh Garranaaaa, Ohhhh, va va VOOOT!" came the cry many times from the men, a chant Jaretho happily joined upon, but inside he wondered of the make up of his enemy, in truth, he only feared that they were orcs.

"Only orc can be stronger than orc," He quietly insisted to himself as he called for a quickened march.

As they moved, he looked back to his group, a mere thirty or so squabble, veterans of course, all orcs were, but hardly trained. In their hands they bore spears and clubs and axes, but these were more for the killing of trees, rabbits, and fish, not other creatures. Still Jaretho held his confident posture, even if it was only an overt illusion.

His troop soon came upon the source of the disturbed earth, far before them they saw the quick paced work of the tireless undead,

"Bad Vodoo," one pf the troopers commented.

Jaretho snorted in reply as he walked forward alone to see the cause of this activity. Within his thickened armor which crossed his chest and feet, the orc commander felt bold indeed. Slowly he clawed at the earth with his mighty hand blades, poison dripping from the tips, a similar concoction upon his pointed and deadly boots. A smile rippled from the ton face of Jaretho as he saw a small dwarf asking what he intended to inquire. Hoping to spook the tiny cave-dweller, Jaretho barked, "Yeah, why you be here!?"

[Ragnus]

Vor'lekar smiled and laughed. "I'm hear because I have no where better to be. I'm always looking for a fight, and this seemed a good place to find one. Are you in charge here? If not, I would prefer to speak to your commander. I would like to give you an extra fighting arm, and perhaps give my knowledge of the lay of the land." Vor'lekar made his best attempt to sound as brash as possible. Best way to get your way with an Orc was to beat him over his head, but intimidating him, when possible, would do just as well. Looking the large Orc up and down, Vor'lekar smiled and laughed again. "Well, are you the leader?"

[Chaz Algo]

Although the nearly sudden interloping of not just one man, but a warband coming from the same way they had came, or another nearby path made the people of the camp spring to life while the undead continued a tasked toil with no hinderance in undying focus. Immediately, seeing the odd pairing of individuals who for obvious reasons began to question eachother, their respectives came forth.

Two dwarves, and three orcs, well.. one was seemingly only a half-breed, and the other half breed looks like whatever human they had for a parent was more hobgoblin or mountain man than anything because other rocs would just note he had smaller tusks and a bit more common sense and little else. He was orc-raised and orc bred, grunting out his name to them. "Me Kossack! Kossack the Vile!" Punching his chest a few times above his emblem of tribal significance the refined one groaned, and rubbed his forehead looking down, below the eyes hidden by a bandana of sorts. "Ugh.."

The taller, thinner orc seemed indefinately 'different' in every little way, obviously a wayward or entirely new tribe. Pitch black skin, an odd scent much like the two dwarves who looked cautiously at this Vor'Lekar as if they did not trust their own kind. "Me Phelps, we explore.. seek free land to occupy, might mine. Lord and Master sent us, ally with dragons if possible." He nodded in affirmation, speaking in the same language they were exchanging in. The gargoyles and lizard-men began to assemble a bit further back, behind everyone. The lizardmen were normal sized in general respects but something about them showed they had larger proportions. The sorcerous one leaned on his axe, unspeaking, waiting for a topic too complex for the brilliant black orc to answer.

From the shadows, the maiden necromancer eyed the events and barely showed herself from the curtains of her sector, arms crossed beneath her exotic robes as her spiked tail continued to write something out in dark tongues, dipping the tip in blood often to keep the scripting fresh. Listening intently, making judgements on the tact and brain power, as well as more basal motives behind their 'parlay' that happened. If things got out of hand ofcourse.. she held her trump card in suit, and focused her wicked mind to this cause.[My apologies, the month grew hectic. Had to deal with new tenents this month!] -