Plans in Motion   

From Xun Verin:
Razillian sat silently at his desk as Ixle Grunton entered the room. No words of greeting were spoken between the two, nor desired. Resting upon the desk lay the Tome of Orc Histories as well as the torn map from its pages. The Valuk read through the pages of the journal before looking once again at the map.

mine recent task of surveying these northern lands of Sosaria. For the time I will remain upon the outskirts of the lands they seem to claim as their own and just observe, although I do so hope to meet with these wondrous creatures before long.

In the mean while I have begun drawing a map of the territory on the opening page here in mine journal. As more is learned of the area I shall add to this drawing.

Day Three-
Having finished my drawing of the wilderness where these orcs make their home, I have begun following their daily activities in hopes of a better understanding of this race of beings.

As of yet I have been unable to make out any designs to a social structure within this clan, although I have managed to designate those members of what appears to be a hunting party. When next they leave the area I will follow behind and see what I might learn.

Day Six-
Having followed the hunting party for two days into the wilds I have been able to make a few observations. There appears to be one member of the party with a status above the rest. While the majority of the Orcish wield wooden clubs and wear only the lightest of armor made from hides, this individual is clad with what appears to be ring armor with a helmet made from the bones of a previous kill. He also wields a mace made from metal.

Where the Orcish folk have acquired weapons and armor crafted from iron I know not. Perhaps they are more advanced a race then first believed.

As the party returned to the tribe with their kills from the hunt I caught a glimpse of an Orc clad in a brown robe in contrast to the simple garments of the remainder of the tribe. Mayhap this is their leader, I will have to try and gain a better vantage of this being.

Day Ten-
Over the past few days I have witnessed this brown robe clad Orc upon only a few occasions. Whenever he appears the other Orc folk within the tribe give him a wide berth. More so then one would expect for the leader of the tribe. I begin to think he is not the leader but instead perhaps an elder or even a diseased individual. I know not which.

As to the leader of the tribe, I have noticed a few warriors who claim more respect from the tribe then most, but none who appear to stand above the rest as a leader.

Day Eleven-
Was a great day for the tribe and myself. While adding a few more features to the map I have been working upon of this meadow and surrounding forests where this tribe dwells, I was almost discovered by what appears to be a returning war party.

As the party made its way into the heart of the meadow, all the members of the tribe came forth to greet their return. One of the returning Orc commanded great respect from the tribe and made it quite apparent with his shouted orders that this was the Tribe Leader returned home.

A celebration ensued shortly after their arrival, with a large fire lit in the center of the clearing. The Orcs danced about the fire, stopping only to pay homage to their returned leader. That is until the wounded arrived.

As a small caravan of Orcs entered the make shift village carrying those who have been injured in battle, I finally gleamed the purpose of the brown robed individual.

The injured and dying were brought before the hut of what I now know to be the tribe's shaman or priest. As the tribe drew back in a half circle around those fallen in battle, the shaman walked from his hut and began his chanting over each of the injured warriors.

Each in the tribe, including the apparent leader gave this shaman a wide berth and showed great respect as his magics were working upon the wounded. After a short period of time, the shaman stopped his chanting and stood perfectly still. It appeared as if he entered into some sort of trance, and then began to speak. I could not make out the words as the remainder of the tribe began a chant of the word "Wargod" over and over with hoots and hollers thrown into the mix upon occasion.

The crowd grew silent as their priest's head slumped forward, apparently ending the communion with their god. Those of the wounded who lived were moved into huts as the shaman returned to his own. The dead were moved off where I could nae observe. Shortly after, the tribe resumed tier celebrating of the return of the war party and their leader.

Day Twelve-
Today the entire tribe came out for the ritualistic burial of the dead. It appears one of the wounded I watched moved into a hut last eve had also perished in the night. Two of the dead were laid on a funeral pyre and burned, while the third, the orc who died in the night commanded more attention. This individual was buried by the tribe with full war garb and mace resting upon his chest. I have added the location of the burial grounds to mine map, as it appears to be a special place for the Orcish folk.

Day Thirteen-
Another ranger arrived this day bringing message of my request to return to the lands in the south. I will depart tomorrow with hopes of once again returning to these people.

Day Fourteen-
As I made to leave the Orcs and their land this morn, I was startled to be taken by surprise by the Orc Leader and a small party. At first I feared hostility, but was pleasantly surprised to discover they only wished to say a sort of farewell to me. It appears they had noticed mine presence since the first day, and while I observed this tribe, the Orcs were observing mineself.

I made a promise to this "warboss" of my return.

A cartographer had confirmed Razillian's suspicions over the location of the orc burial grounds marked on the map. While not being able to discern the exact location without much work, he knew the burial grounds lay within the borders of Pax Lair. It seemed the orcs had been correct in their beliefs that Pax Lair rested upon orc lands.

The Valuk placed the valuable items back into his strong box and locked it tight. The items had cost the Xun Verin much to acquire and had cost Razillian even more. He sat for a moment musing over all that had occurred over the past few months and further thinking over the price he and the Xun Verin have yet to pay.

In acquiring the Tome of Orc Histories from the warrioress Cylitheria he had pledged the aid of the Xun Verin for a future conquest of some sort. Ixle had previously confirmed the delivery of the communication device by the assassin Rath'Elggar to Cylitheria. It would not be long before she called upon the Xun Verin for the promised assistance.

Razillian sighed as his thoughts turned from the journal to the map. The map which had cost him so dearly. In gaining the location of the map from Auldrek he had been forced to call upon the Matron Mother Chknae for assistance. She had agreed to perform the ritual to lift the curse from the Druid, but at heavy cost to the Valuk.

Much as the proverbial straw had broken the Llama's back, this request of Chknae had proven too great. In calling forth the Matron from her home, Razillian had shown the need for her to remain upon the surface world. It was the last excuse the High Priestess Na'Fysaa had needed to demand the Matron to take control of the surface interests. The work of the Xun Verin had been progressing far too slow under the command of a human, or so the High Priestess had argued time and again. This time she had won that argument, the Ilharess agreeing to remain and oversee the operations of the clan.

While Chknae had left Razillian's rank within the Xun Verin intact, he could feel his usefulness to the Drau slipping. He knew he needed more time to allow the plans he had set into motion to come to completion. With the map and journal now in his possession it would be but a short while before his plans for Pax Lair would begin to take effect. And then there was the Village of Shadowcove.

He allowed himself the pleasure of a smile as he thought of Shadowcove. Surely the Matron would see his craftiness in dealing with the Village they had happened upon in the search for Auldrek. He had managed to gain a small bit of trust from the Mayors Trazal and Morgaine by curing the Druid, and he had built upon this trust. Yes, just a matter of time before his worth was once again proven to the Drau, and he knew exactly how to gain this time.

Razillian picked up the scrap of paper he had penned earlier and turned to the waiting House Assassin. He scanned over the list of names he had written before handing it over to the assassin. Ixle placed the list within his tunic without so much as a glance at the listed names and turned to leave. As he walked from the door into the waiting shadows Ixle smiled and vanished.

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