Dramatis Personae
Player Characters
The Story of Uma
Yzra was the first born of Uma, a young orc mother of the broken arrow tribe. Yzra was a sickly and underweight baby whose life was primarily composed of fitful and feverish sleep and crying. Typically, such a weak child would not persist in the harsh environment of northeastern Ysgry coastline, but the whelp would not submit. Still, the fevers continued for months and when other children began walking Yzra still could hardly crawl without succumb to fits of shivering.
To maintain the Tribes strength, custom decreed that children unable to walk by the end of their first year be left to the wilderness and the others began to whisper of curses and malevolent spirits. Uma knew the time when she could no longer keep the others at bay was fast approaching and when the new chieftain began speaking openly of sacrificing the child she wasted no time.
It was a desperate gamble but Uma’s mother could not bear to lose the child. Yzra was all that was left of Kyrgur; her mate and the late chieftain. He had died in battle to protect the tribe and in the name of their ancestors and yet they spoke of abandoning his child. Uma knew that If he still lived none would dare suggest a sacrifice. Although the storms were beginning to wane, even a small squall would almost certainly kill her and her child before she could make it to the Blackrock tribe 30 miles to the east. And yet, there was no choice to be made. It was in the hands of the spirits now. Uma walked for days as a great black storm began brewing on the northern sea, it’s lighting strikes visible.
The storm made contact with the land with the strength and finality of an executioners axe. The snow and wind tore at Uma and her swaddled infant blinding them and the pair stumbled through the maelstrom for hours before finally chancing upon a cave. Uma ducked in and checked the infant whose breathing had slowed in the biting cold. Uma considered that they may die there, but knew it was preferable to leaving her beautiful baby girl alone in the snow. The young mother stepped further into the cave turned a corner and stopped short. In the back of the cave lay an enormous bear.
Grinning, Uma set the infant down and unpacked her belongings withdrawing three items: a skull, a knife, and a bundle of pine needles from the Bristlecone Taiga. Stepping forward the young she-orc passed the blade over her forearm and the blood flowed freely; slowly, painstakingly, Uma drew a circle around the bear.
When she had finished, Uma scooped up the infant Yzra and stared down at her child whose breaths came short and silent like the whispered wing beats of an owl. Yzra’s eyes were open and despite the cold she did not cry. Uma could see the bravery of Kygur in those black eyes but also intelligence, defiance, and something else — something powerful and mysterious. She held young Yzra close to her chest and smiled as tears landed on the infant’s forehead. As she felt the tiny heartbeat, Uma was more sure than ever that the spirits had plans for this one. Finally, Uma passed her thumb over the infant’s forehead leaving a line of blood. Uma swaddled the child in a clump of bear fur, and placed the child within the circle and against the bear.
Stepping back from the bear and Yzra, Uma drew her knife again, opened a new wound, drew a smaller circle, sat within, and sat within. Uma placed a bundle of pine needles in each of the skulls eye sockets and sat holding the skull gently against her chest. Finally Uma drew her finger across her forehead leaving a line of blood to match her child’s.
A droning mumbled chant punctuated by high-pitched breathy notes began soon after and continued for hours. Uma muttered the names of countless ancestors: her father Guyr, her mother Ygra, her mate Kyrgur, her siblings that had died in childbirth, her grandparents and great grandparents that had only ever been names and stories, the names of the tribe's elders, friends that had passed, the great ones: Uygr and Ysgr. She recalled every kill she could remember: deer, hare, fowl, fish, humans, elves, other orcs. She named the four primordials. She named the sacred places she had been shown as a child: Yurgur, Kyrgzyr, Dalgun, Uglak… with Uglak a surge of power as the bundles of needles began to smolder. She felt her mate’s energy with that word. “Uglak” Uma repeated and the needles burst into flame. She felt him in the cave with her now leading all the others she had named to hear her plea. The cave became warmer and the bear let out a low grumbling growl while it slept.
Uma held the skull high and felt the heat of the small fire spreading to her arms as her breathing became fast and shallow. “Uglak, Uglak, Uglak” she chanted over and over. When Kyrgur hadn’t come home Uma had known he had died fighting the Tadrosi but had never known where. Now she knew he had died at the fortress perched on a black rock in the sea: Uglak. Her daughter would return there to finish his work. Uma’s skin flushed then went pale and began to wrinkle. Her muscles contracted spasmodically and began to shrink. Uma, a muscled she-orc well over six feet slowly shrank and withered as if the weight of a hundred years of life had borne down on her in a few moments. The skull’s eyes blazed with more power and the flesh of Ygra’s hands began to sizzle where they met the skull as the skin was seared. Still she chanted. “Uglak, urugyk karur grun. Gyr u ra Uglak kgyr grun.” the bundles of pine needles had been consumed long ago but the fire within burned white hot. Finally, the skull exploded into a smokeless fire that spread rapidly down Ygra’s arms and over her entire body. Still Ygra stood, arms holding the skull high, her words whispered from her lips like driven snow: "Uglak ka, Uglak ka, Uglak ka". In minutes the she-orc, the skull, and the circles were gone. Against the bear the child lay and neither smoke nor ashes suggested where her mother had stood only moments before.
~~~~~~~~~~
For years the Blackrock tribe had tales of a young orc girl seen among a young mother bear and her cub, but none have confirmed the rumors. Some thought it was an omen of strength to come to the tribe others thought it bore ill tidings of a perversion of the natural order. None expected it to actually be true and when Yzra stepped into the tribe covered in fur with a young bear at her side and unable to speak a word of Ysgr even the elders were amazed. Still she was taken in for fear of angering the spirits and her bear companion was tolerated even when he raided the food stores.
In time, Yzra grew to be a respected orc warrior in spirit if not in body. She lagged considerably behind the others in physical strength and in weapons training, but she possessed a sense of intuition and spiritual connection that surpassed even the elders. She began training as a shaman at 13 but refused to live the typically safe and secluded life that was expected of her riding out with the warriors at every opportunity. Her gifts and her companion bear, Mduzur, kept her safe from any serious harm but even her luck would run out eventually.
Even Yzra was kept from the raids on Uglak, a Tadrosi stronghold on an island in the jagged sea. The island was sacred and said to offer unparalleled access to the ancestor spirits but the Tadrosi that guarded it were merciless and militaristically advanced. Any weakness was severely punished by the absolute precision of the Tadrosi troops and many orcs from many tribes had died or been captured in the raids. Now though, the orcs were gathering, a trusted scout from the Snowbllind tribe had overheard Tadrosi troops discussing how a resupply ship had run aground. The scout explained that hundreds of Tadrosi troops would need to leave the island in order to avoid starvation. Of course, the weakened garrison would be ripe for the taking.
To maintain the Tribes strength, custom decreed that children unable to walk by the end of their first year be left to the wilderness and the others began to whisper of curses and malevolent spirits. Uma knew the time when she could no longer keep the others at bay was fast approaching and when the new chieftain began speaking openly of sacrificing the child she wasted no time.
It was a desperate gamble but Uma’s mother could not bear to lose the child. Yzra was all that was left of Kyrgur; her mate and the late chieftain. He had died in battle to protect the tribe and in the name of their ancestors and yet they spoke of abandoning his child. Uma knew that If he still lived none would dare suggest a sacrifice. Although the storms were beginning to wane, even a small squall would almost certainly kill her and her child before she could make it to the Blackrock tribe 30 miles to the east. And yet, there was no choice to be made. It was in the hands of the spirits now. Uma walked for days as a great black storm began brewing on the northern sea, it’s lighting strikes visible.
The storm made contact with the land with the strength and finality of an executioners axe. The snow and wind tore at Uma and her swaddled infant blinding them and the pair stumbled through the maelstrom for hours before finally chancing upon a cave. Uma ducked in and checked the infant whose breathing had slowed in the biting cold. Uma considered that they may die there, but knew it was preferable to leaving her beautiful baby girl alone in the snow. The young mother stepped further into the cave turned a corner and stopped short. In the back of the cave lay an enormous bear.
Grinning, Uma set the infant down and unpacked her belongings withdrawing three items: a skull, a knife, and a bundle of pine needles from the Bristlecone Taiga. Stepping forward the young she-orc passed the blade over her forearm and the blood flowed freely; slowly, painstakingly, Uma drew a circle around the bear.
When she had finished, Uma scooped up the infant Yzra and stared down at her child whose breaths came short and silent like the whispered wing beats of an owl. Yzra’s eyes were open and despite the cold she did not cry. Uma could see the bravery of Kygur in those black eyes but also intelligence, defiance, and something else — something powerful and mysterious. She held young Yzra close to her chest and smiled as tears landed on the infant’s forehead. As she felt the tiny heartbeat, Uma was more sure than ever that the spirits had plans for this one. Finally, Uma passed her thumb over the infant’s forehead leaving a line of blood. Uma swaddled the child in a clump of bear fur, and placed the child within the circle and against the bear.
Stepping back from the bear and Yzra, Uma drew her knife again, opened a new wound, drew a smaller circle, sat within, and sat within. Uma placed a bundle of pine needles in each of the skulls eye sockets and sat holding the skull gently against her chest. Finally Uma drew her finger across her forehead leaving a line of blood to match her child’s.
A droning mumbled chant punctuated by high-pitched breathy notes began soon after and continued for hours. Uma muttered the names of countless ancestors: her father Guyr, her mother Ygra, her mate Kyrgur, her siblings that had died in childbirth, her grandparents and great grandparents that had only ever been names and stories, the names of the tribe's elders, friends that had passed, the great ones: Uygr and Ysgr. She recalled every kill she could remember: deer, hare, fowl, fish, humans, elves, other orcs. She named the four primordials. She named the sacred places she had been shown as a child: Yurgur, Kyrgzyr, Dalgun, Uglak… with Uglak a surge of power as the bundles of needles began to smolder. She felt her mate’s energy with that word. “Uglak” Uma repeated and the needles burst into flame. She felt him in the cave with her now leading all the others she had named to hear her plea. The cave became warmer and the bear let out a low grumbling growl while it slept.
Uma held the skull high and felt the heat of the small fire spreading to her arms as her breathing became fast and shallow. “Uglak, Uglak, Uglak” she chanted over and over. When Kyrgur hadn’t come home Uma had known he had died fighting the Tadrosi but had never known where. Now she knew he had died at the fortress perched on a black rock in the sea: Uglak. Her daughter would return there to finish his work. Uma’s skin flushed then went pale and began to wrinkle. Her muscles contracted spasmodically and began to shrink. Uma, a muscled she-orc well over six feet slowly shrank and withered as if the weight of a hundred years of life had borne down on her in a few moments. The skull’s eyes blazed with more power and the flesh of Ygra’s hands began to sizzle where they met the skull as the skin was seared. Still she chanted. “Uglak, urugyk karur grun. Gyr u ra Uglak kgyr grun.” the bundles of pine needles had been consumed long ago but the fire within burned white hot. Finally, the skull exploded into a smokeless fire that spread rapidly down Ygra’s arms and over her entire body. Still Ygra stood, arms holding the skull high, her words whispered from her lips like driven snow: "Uglak ka, Uglak ka, Uglak ka". In minutes the she-orc, the skull, and the circles were gone. Against the bear the child lay and neither smoke nor ashes suggested where her mother had stood only moments before.
~~~~~~~~~~
For years the Blackrock tribe had tales of a young orc girl seen among a young mother bear and her cub, but none have confirmed the rumors. Some thought it was an omen of strength to come to the tribe others thought it bore ill tidings of a perversion of the natural order. None expected it to actually be true and when Yzra stepped into the tribe covered in fur with a young bear at her side and unable to speak a word of Ysgr even the elders were amazed. Still she was taken in for fear of angering the spirits and her bear companion was tolerated even when he raided the food stores.
In time, Yzra grew to be a respected orc warrior in spirit if not in body. She lagged considerably behind the others in physical strength and in weapons training, but she possessed a sense of intuition and spiritual connection that surpassed even the elders. She began training as a shaman at 13 but refused to live the typically safe and secluded life that was expected of her riding out with the warriors at every opportunity. Her gifts and her companion bear, Mduzur, kept her safe from any serious harm but even her luck would run out eventually.
Even Yzra was kept from the raids on Uglak, a Tadrosi stronghold on an island in the jagged sea. The island was sacred and said to offer unparalleled access to the ancestor spirits but the Tadrosi that guarded it were merciless and militaristically advanced. Any weakness was severely punished by the absolute precision of the Tadrosi troops and many orcs from many tribes had died or been captured in the raids. Now though, the orcs were gathering, a trusted scout from the Snowbllind tribe had overheard Tadrosi troops discussing how a resupply ship had run aground. The scout explained that hundreds of Tadrosi troops would need to leave the island in order to avoid starvation. Of course, the weakened garrison would be ripe for the taking.
Uglak
Upon an island battered in equal parts by the grey sea and forever shrieking wind of the northern coast of Ysgr, lies a fortress. It is by all accounts a massive ugly black thing built of the same stone that juts from the surrounding ocean like the cracked teeth of an enormous dragon long drowned. Perhaps in an effort to counterpoint the monochromatic landscape the elements themselves seem to be in an eternal war giving rise to some of the worst conditions any Khudani mariner could hope to survive. Here water and air had been thrashing against each other and hurling themselves at defiant stone for a million years and would continue to do so for a million years more. The weather however, was typical for the northern coast of Ysgr and only contributed to a feeling of endless brutal landscape where nature would forever remain untamed. But of course, there were those who would try anyway.
Orcs had lived among the spraying salt and shifting sea ice even before the first halfling ships had landed in Khudan and it was Orcs who had fought against the Tadrosi when the first walls on the island of Uglak were erected. Even now, if it weren’t for the purple, gold and crimson flags adorning it, the castle would be easily overlooked: another black slash across a canvas of gray and white. Even still the troops garrisoned at the fortress referred to the castle as "The blackest hole on the blackest island in the blackest sea” though the myriad islands of equally black countenance really made it a matter of opinion.
riginally the island was established as a resupply port en route to the more profitable and safe harbors of the west coast but the constant raids by orcish tribes meant that a more secure option would be needed so half a century ago the Magi announced the construction of a fort on Uglak . Now the installation held hundreds of Tadrosi soldiers that had to be constantly resupplied and rotated. Being stationed at Uglak was widely seen as the worst possible assignment but of course the fort's prisoners had it worse but their opinions on the matter were not voiced as often.
Some knew that protection of tadrosi trade was a convenient excuse. In truth, this location was terribly suited to this purpose. It's steep sides made building a dock incredibly difficult let alone any other structure. Stairs had to be carved out of the sheer cliff face just to get to the top of the desolate island. The weather was horrible and the position of the island relative to prevailing winds and currents meant there were no safe harbors that could be reliably accessed. And yet there were thousands of islands along the Ysgr coast this one had been selected for a reason. Though some knew the island's nominal purpose was a farce, far fewer knew that the real reason for its construction was the discovery of a locus in the heart of the island. indeed, the locus may have explained some of the unrelenting weather, why the island was regarded as sacred by the native orcs, and why these same orcs were willing to wage an endless guerilla war to remove the garrison. Some of those few were those same orcs many of which were rotting in the dungeons below the castle.
One such prisoner was Yzra; an average sized Orc woman (making her well above human height) with a dark evergreen-gray skin tone, black dreadlocks, and black eyes. Those familiar with orcish traditional tatoos may have recognized her as a member of the broken arrow tribe as well as a ranger, a warrior, and a shaman in that order. Those unfamiliar would still be amazed at the artistry, intricacy, and extent of the work. For her part Yzra spent most of her time thinking. Today She wondered how many waves had crashed against the island’s flanks and how many more it would take to bring it down. She watched through the bars as the boiling waves thundered into the rocks with desperate fury sending spray into the air where it hung until it froze on the rocks. She wondered if she too had struggled in vain only to one day lie cold and still. She wondered if she would have continued forward if she had been told that her unit would be captured and Mduzur would be taken from her.
"These fucking dogs are on sacred land!" Yzra thought. Surely, the ancestors would guide her or those that would free her, and she would be able to fight again. Still she had been waiting for years now and though her connection to the spirits felt stronger than ever, her once toned musculature was long gone. She wouldn’t be able to fight physically, at least not very effectively. For what must have been the thousandth time Yzra wondered where her friends were held. How many had survived ? Would they be in this prison as well? Why hadn’t the tadrosi soldiers killed or bargained us away yet?
When she was able to calm her anger, Yzra could reach out and feel that Mduzur was alive but had no idea where he was. Of course, this led to more questions: Had he been sold to a collector, put on the front lines of some distant battlefield, or had they put him to work or in the fighting pits? Thinking of her companion always hurt the most; the bond between a spirit warrior and their animal guide was intense and despite his size and ferocity, Mduzur was a beautiful soul filled with patience, kindness, and wisdom.
Anger flared Yzra; anger at Tadros, anger at the scout that had betrayed them, and anger at herself for allowing herself to be captured and her inability to do anything about it. Yzra was so buried in her misery that she almost didn’t notice when the lock clicked, and the rusty hinges croaked as the door opened lazily.
Orcs had lived among the spraying salt and shifting sea ice even before the first halfling ships had landed in Khudan and it was Orcs who had fought against the Tadrosi when the first walls on the island of Uglak were erected. Even now, if it weren’t for the purple, gold and crimson flags adorning it, the castle would be easily overlooked: another black slash across a canvas of gray and white. Even still the troops garrisoned at the fortress referred to the castle as "The blackest hole on the blackest island in the blackest sea” though the myriad islands of equally black countenance really made it a matter of opinion.
riginally the island was established as a resupply port en route to the more profitable and safe harbors of the west coast but the constant raids by orcish tribes meant that a more secure option would be needed so half a century ago the Magi announced the construction of a fort on Uglak . Now the installation held hundreds of Tadrosi soldiers that had to be constantly resupplied and rotated. Being stationed at Uglak was widely seen as the worst possible assignment but of course the fort's prisoners had it worse but their opinions on the matter were not voiced as often.
Some knew that protection of tadrosi trade was a convenient excuse. In truth, this location was terribly suited to this purpose. It's steep sides made building a dock incredibly difficult let alone any other structure. Stairs had to be carved out of the sheer cliff face just to get to the top of the desolate island. The weather was horrible and the position of the island relative to prevailing winds and currents meant there were no safe harbors that could be reliably accessed. And yet there were thousands of islands along the Ysgr coast this one had been selected for a reason. Though some knew the island's nominal purpose was a farce, far fewer knew that the real reason for its construction was the discovery of a locus in the heart of the island. indeed, the locus may have explained some of the unrelenting weather, why the island was regarded as sacred by the native orcs, and why these same orcs were willing to wage an endless guerilla war to remove the garrison. Some of those few were those same orcs many of which were rotting in the dungeons below the castle.
One such prisoner was Yzra; an average sized Orc woman (making her well above human height) with a dark evergreen-gray skin tone, black dreadlocks, and black eyes. Those familiar with orcish traditional tatoos may have recognized her as a member of the broken arrow tribe as well as a ranger, a warrior, and a shaman in that order. Those unfamiliar would still be amazed at the artistry, intricacy, and extent of the work. For her part Yzra spent most of her time thinking. Today She wondered how many waves had crashed against the island’s flanks and how many more it would take to bring it down. She watched through the bars as the boiling waves thundered into the rocks with desperate fury sending spray into the air where it hung until it froze on the rocks. She wondered if she too had struggled in vain only to one day lie cold and still. She wondered if she would have continued forward if she had been told that her unit would be captured and Mduzur would be taken from her.
"These fucking dogs are on sacred land!" Yzra thought. Surely, the ancestors would guide her or those that would free her, and she would be able to fight again. Still she had been waiting for years now and though her connection to the spirits felt stronger than ever, her once toned musculature was long gone. She wouldn’t be able to fight physically, at least not very effectively. For what must have been the thousandth time Yzra wondered where her friends were held. How many had survived ? Would they be in this prison as well? Why hadn’t the tadrosi soldiers killed or bargained us away yet?
When she was able to calm her anger, Yzra could reach out and feel that Mduzur was alive but had no idea where he was. Of course, this led to more questions: Had he been sold to a collector, put on the front lines of some distant battlefield, or had they put him to work or in the fighting pits? Thinking of her companion always hurt the most; the bond between a spirit warrior and their animal guide was intense and despite his size and ferocity, Mduzur was a beautiful soul filled with patience, kindness, and wisdom.
Anger flared Yzra; anger at Tadros, anger at the scout that had betrayed them, and anger at herself for allowing herself to be captured and her inability to do anything about it. Yzra was so buried in her misery that she almost didn’t notice when the lock clicked, and the rusty hinges croaked as the door opened lazily.