"My people! Not since the great God Orgiarian led us victoriously into battle has there been a gathering of the clans like this. Times upon us are hard. The humans mass for an assault and we have been weakened last night! They claim this land as their own! Pah! This land is our land! Taken by force, held by fear! Yet some humans came in last night. They stole the Hand of Orgiarian, the hand which he lost in the great battle! We are doomed without his guidance, his power! You, you, and you!" the King points to a number of unsuspecting creatures in the crowd, "will go to the human realm and return it. It cannot be destroyed so they will have it somewhere. Go! Find it! The rest will prepare for war! We march against the pesky scum in 3 days!!"
Slowly, as if filled with dread, (or in some cases utter happiness) you realise that the kings finger has pointed at you and even as your Adam's Apple bobs up and down, your name has been etched upon the parchment of the scribes. The king nods to his Sergeant-at-arms who bellows "Yea who were called, proceed at once to the dirty brown rotting tent behind you for processing! Now!"
As your eyes look at the others who move, or are moved, towards the tent you notice a few strange scenes. Firstly there appears to be a strange cross section of beasts. The kings eye has surely looked at having a balanced team and has selected none other than one of each of the alliance groups. You enter the tent and are left alone... outside you hear a raised voice of another screaming: "Pig! I his helper!" followed by a gauntleted slap and silence...nothing else is allowed in the tent, for now. Stern voices telling the others to wait can be heard....you all stand around, distrustful, in some cases hateful...and wondering what the hell are you doing here....Your eyes survey your companions and your heart sinks even deeper. Old racial tensions and fears and stories start to surface in your minds and you quickly look over the carefully arranged chairs, six, all facing a rostrum. Behind the chairs a table is laid out with hordes of fine foods, ales and wine.
The bright sunlight that has been hammering the tent and mercilessly raising its temperature suddenly darkens as some hidden cloud gives temporary reprieve to the eyes if not the skin. At that moment the guards outside suddenly raise their voices,
"All stand for your King!"
the flap is opened and in marches an Ogre dressed in fine silks, albeit silks covered in food stains, a cracked copper crown and a banded club. Obviously he has seen the pictures of human kings and tries, in vain, to emulate them.
"Our subjects," he wheezed "you wonder why We pick you? We asked by Kobold ruler, Orcan King and Giant Chief: gather one of each." Then he looks across at the Leprechaun and half Orc, "During war, outcasts always suspected. Better you go now than to Our dungeon later."
"Before go you must, three things I will say. First, leaders all say how dangerous job this is, so all bring items from artefact store. We not have much magic, these always got from human. We not know what uses are. All leaders say that Ogre, Kobold, Half-Orc and Giant take one each. He turns his nose up at the Leprechaun and Giant. He looks at the Giant and mutters, with a grin, "Your king not like you, He say if you want to be favoured, then you first prove self..then king give presents." To the Half-Orc he turns " Orc king say you Orc too, you get present�take. Lucky, you make many people scared. People not be more scared by giving more power to you. No king want that"
He claps his hands and the court eunuchs place before him a large chest. He unlocks it and has his eunuchs empty out the contents into piles, very gingerly as if he was afraid. "We know not what is inside each thing. We know it was either feared or revered by our distant ancestors. I would touch not one..but you free to take. Do not touch and look! Just take one pile!" he screams as he cowers away from the piles.
Before you are the following:
1) A fragile forked and gnarled stick with some runes on it, and a shiny metal band swinging loosely around it.
2) A Bronze Horn and a loose Gem/Jewel that appears jammed inside the funnel.
3) A set of Arm Guards tied to a spear.
4) A black wicked looking Scimitar and half scabbard.
5) A folded robe, with something sticking out of the pocket.
The king looks at the pile and, scratching his head, mutters, "We thought there were more piles in other room..." then he shakes his head and looks at you with a blank expression, "Now, when you leave? Where you go? Already people have one moon and half sun head start. Where you think they went? Questions quick?! We must go, supervise killing of Guardian Priest and cleansing of defiled temple."
At the first glimpse of the items, most of the party shrug back away from them. Then Grellak sums up his courage and pulls forth the arm-guards and spear before skipping away with a half laugh of courage. The Kobold Graypatch, seizing the opportunity, swoops upon the runed twisted stick and the small ring� which promptly dislodges and comes away in his hand, a nice, finger-sized band of gold. Finally Skuzzlebutt reaches down, lifts the horn and, after prodding the gem with a stubby finger, manages to dislodge the glittering prize that gleams in the grimy tent�s half-light. Honel the Orc seems to have fallen asleep and as yet has touched and said nothing.
From outside comes a gruff voice. "I am telling you he didn�t point at me!" before the flap is flung open and a slight ogre is thrown inside. The king looks him up and down and then mutters.. "Well Doink, your day is at foot! I keep all apples in one basket..and you last apple! You go with group, or to dungeon. I not care if you happy." At which time he stops�a puzzled look crossing his face as if he just felt something strange happening�his hands reach up to the crown and he lifts it from his head (To those interested, it looks a little different..)�he looks at Lucky, the Leprechaun and half screeches� "Keep hands to self, pest!" before starting to mutter you catch a few words �a better place�.. �them gone�..
At this time a verbal scuffle between The Ogre Skuzzlebutt and Grellak the Orc, regarding who is actually going to kill the Priest, starts up and carries the two eager warriors out across the dusty square towards the temple itself. The King ushers the Eunuchs to tidy up, which they ignore, and he heads off after Skuzzlebut and Grellak, leaving the rest of the party and the disobedient Eunuchs, following in the wake out of pure curiosity.
The Gruumsh temple is a large ornate building. The inside can just be seen through two large oak doors, rumoured to be from some ancient human kings castle, and the interior appears dank and musty. However, this is not what has grabbed your attention. The temple�s entranceway is lined with vast, impressive pillars. It is here that your attention is drawn. Two burly Ogre chiefs have tied the priest across the entranceway. An arm and leg spread to one of the Northern pillars and the other leg and arm, stretched across the isle, to a Southern pillar. Beads of sweat drip down the Ogre High-Priest�s face as he begs for mercy.. followed by swearing oaths of fidelity to the great Gods if only they would strike his captors dead.. followed again by cries of mercy�On the floor before the priest is a collection of whips, lashes and small pointy-things that look as if they would hurt no matter what was done with them...