Falkreath: The Stone Orc Settlement

"ANY WHAT!?" Rictofen roared out, looking at Roxanne with eyes blazed with a fire in his eyes. "I'll have you know we- The orcs of Falkreath are hearty people!! Maybe even heartier than humans if they're as prejudice as you!" He barked out, soon hearing her greeting.



As they walked, her face of disgust was plastered onto his own, listening to her hate speech on her, well, their father. "Trust me, my father's not the relation I'm regretting at this time." He looked back to Roarin', wondering what he was thinking at this time. Hopefully he'd be ok with his son defending him like that.





"Enough, boy!" Rev'Nahn growled out. "Leave our guests alone." He added, continuing to walk into the opened door, entering the Chieftan's Hut.





As they walked in they'd be greeted by the fairly large longtable, the many antlers above them hanging as ornaments. The tables were stacked with hundreds of strange customs of food, unique dishes and different aromas smelt. Down at the far end of the hall, however, sat Thorok, upon his stone throne. Looking to them, he stood up immediately as Rev'Nahn came in, both of them pounding their right fist to their chest.


"Welcome, travelers." Thorok's voice boomed across the room, a handful of the officials in the village looking to them, a respectful gaze for a good three seconds as they resumed their conversations. Thorok stood tall, waiting for them to come to his area of the room.

Roarin takes his seat, and helps himself to a plate of food. He puts his pipe out finally, though he continues to drink from his flask, the flask which by all rights should be empty by now. He sighs when Roxy disparages Rictofen's parentage, the girl had no tact, not surprising of course all things considered but still. Oh well these things happen, Roarin waits for things to progress.

Cyronin places himself quietly at the table, as opposite as possible to the cloaked figure. This, incidentally, places him beside Roarin' Fletcher.

Turning his head to face the white-haired mayor, he said lowly, "You have two very different types of children there."

Thorok sat upon his throne, watching as at least one of the group members decided to gorge in the displayed food. A mental grin arose from that, at least someone appreciated such a dining hall as this. Theev'Nok soon stood at his right, with Rev'Nahn to his right, Zash'Neck sitting against a table in the back corner, near the entrance. Shorbolg was seen hobbling out of the nearby room while Thorok began to speak. Noticing Roarin, he gave a content, calm smile at him, nodding his head with impression and respect. Resting against the entrance doors would be Fal'Thoma, a strict and cold face upon her as she crossed her arms under her chest.

Theev'Nok cleared his throat, stomping on the wooden floor as Thorok began to speak up. "I thank all of you immensely for coming to our time of need. This is a matter I cannot turn my face away from no longer." He looked to Shorbolg as the Shaman lifted up his staff, a green-shaded version of the Necromancy symbol was shown floating above the table. "This, is what calls us to action. Thrashnald of Falkreath, the Forbidden, has claimed war against the tribe." He stood from his throne, sighing as he paced from arm-rest to arm-rest upon his throne, Shorbolg sensing a disturbance and removing the symbol from view. "For those of you who do not know of our tribe, Thrashnald was rightfully Chieftan. But, he went against the code of Religion, and endorsed in these treacherous acts." He looked towards the hooded figure, not knowing anything about him. "Though some of you might hold this knowledge, we do not frown upon you. It is our people who mustn't, not yours."

Shorbolg paced forward one step as he leaned against his staff, lifting up his hand to reveal a floating, dark purple crystal, etchings that glowed green coating it. "This was found within the caves. Minors, indoctrinated by Thrashnald's darkness, have tirelessly been working within the cave in outer lands. I've placed a barrier upon the crystal, for the eyes of anyone but our blood have grown addicted to such strange crystals. Few know what such an element is, even I am still attempting to crack open its shell of knowledge."

Hearing a cough from Rev'Nahn, Shorbolg looked a bit surprised towards Thorok, stepping backwards to let him speak. "Thrashnald is presumed to be hiding within this cave. One of you has traveled into there, and we thank that man for doing so." He looked dead at Roarin. "However, this wasn't enough, his magic had sealed the tunnels and there is no way of entering. Not without our help, that is."

Stepping up from the dining table from the handful of orcs arose Zeel'Nok, the Beast-Mother upon the Troll Grounds. 

She looked to the group with a smirk, a fist pounding upon her chest. "It is an honor to speak before you." She addressed the crowd. "And because of your brave and noble decision to help us, I shall use my own magic to help your group travel through the tunnels. This cursed Thrashnald is strong, yes, but we share the same magic as he. I will bend the stone back into the tunnels, and we shall enter the back of his skull with your blade!" She began to pick up her volume towards the end, soon calming down as she remained silent.

Thorok looked back to the group, holding his spear in his left hand as he looked to the group. "Are there any questions among you warriors?" He asked curiously.

Roarin shrugs his shoulders at Cyronin's comment, and say's between mouthfuls.

"Apparently, but I guess this job is attracting all types."

Roarin half listens to what Thorok has to say, he already knew most of it. He turns his full attention back to the conversation, when the topic turns to next steps. He gives Zeel'Nok an appreciative once over while she speaks, despite Roxy's comment he did have standards. Though his standards were pretty low, a pair of legs and a decent set of tits, that was it, alcohol could cover any other short comings. When the floor opens he says gruffly.

"Just one question for me. When do we leave."

Cyronin spoke from where he was sitting, his voice lifting over the general hubbub of the feasting room.

"Sorry, Cheiftan, but what exactly will we be encountering in these caves? Does the necromancer have supporters, cultists, followers? Will we be dealing with reanimated beasts? What has the previous mission revealed about what we will be facing?"

The father, I think. She isn't anything to worry about. Just him. 

Looking to the group, he respected the two who'd spoken up. However, he answered the second man's question first, as it seemed to lead easier. Before he could speak up, Shorbolg cleared his throat, which Thorok gave a hesitant not towards, allowing Shorbolg to hobble forwards once more.

"We know that this cave is unknown, and it holds many strange capabilities. However, we are untold of what's in it, even with our previous excavation. We know Thrashnald resides in this cave, and he may have minions waiting in the darkness of the tunnels. The miners are also dwelling inside, but they only care of their work. You should worry not of what is to come. Judging by the variety you have here, you will succeed in driving him out, if not that, killing him." 

Shorbolg stepped backwards, letting Thorok speak up once more. "As for when, it shall begin tomorrow. I've arranged the guest room to the left-" He waved his hand towards the double-doors, which would reveal only a handful of large beds inside of it. "-for your night's rest. Drink and food shall reside in here, so you may eat as much as you wish. It is the least I can offer currently for your sacrifice and acknowledgment to our struggles." With that, he sat down once more, looking to the group, awaiting what they'd do next. "You are dismissed, feel free to travel around the village, or stay in here. Either way, you are most welcome." He added, deciding to formally close the meeting.

The morning came quickly. For Zeel'Nok, that is. She rose quickly, a sharp intake of air as she sat straight up from her bed. Kicking over to the side she prepared herself for the day, opening up her display case to put on her necklace again. "We miss you..." Her soft voice spoke to the necklace as she held it firmly. Soon, the skulls upon her shoulders were placed, a grin growing upon her face. Today was the day. Today, she'd visit the outlanders once more.

Rushing over to the Chieftan's Hut, she crashed her shoulder into the double-way doors, hands parting as the torches in the room were lit with the red, blazing fires for a moment, before calming down, clapping her hands together a good four times. "Alas, outlanders! The time has come to claim your glory!" She exclaimed with a laugh to her voice. "We leave in ten minutes." She exclaimed, taking off outside of the hut.

Just at the time of Rictofen to sprint into the room, tripping into a roll as he jumped up next to Roarin's bed. "Fath- Mr. Roarin!" he wanted to start off a bit less extreme at first, now that they've been capable of meeting each other. "Tell them that I'm coming with you!" He pleaded with a massive, excited grin. "I'm strong, I'll take a hit for you. I-I'll carry your pack!" He started to list off a hundred different reasons why he should come.

Roxanne wakes up grumpy and hungover.

"Ugh...am I still in this cave? So last night actually happened...and my father is somewhere nearby. Just great."

She sits up groggily and starts to put on her armor. Time for an adventure, it seems. Maybe she should just drink the hangover away. Can't fight monsters hungover, that's for sure.