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The Horde Claims Its Lands! (Orc)

#1
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Translation:
Hello humans!
The Boulderfist Orcs have claimed these lands for all orc-kin.
Anyone found trespassing has to give tribute or be killed.

Let this serve as official notice to all Prevalians and their ilk that the lands you so freely traversed in the past will now be patrolled by us.

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What serves as tribute?
Check this handy guide: Acceptable Tribute
 
#6
Jack crumpled up the message and tossed it into the crackling fire. “Filthy Greenskins..” he muttered to himself.

He took a long pull from his flask, trying not to think of the time he’d awoken in an Andarian Tavern, memory faded and head splitting from drinks the night before. He had rolled over to find himself face to face with a naked and asleep Orc female.

He shuddered and took another drink.

As long as this Boulderfist clan stayed north and clear of the lands surrounding New Trinsic, it was not his concern.

An image of a half-orc, half-human baby with a red beard and crooked smile flashed in his mind… He continued drinking heavily.
 
#7
Titus was just leaving the Emperor's quarters when Ecthelion, one of the Empire's experienced rangers, approached him in the great hall.

"How goes your scouting?" The Praeceptorum inquired nonchalantly.

Without responding the ranger handed Titus a map scribbled with notations. After looking it over twice he asked, "are you sure this is accurate?"

Ecthelion nodded, "it seems they are consolidating, no more scattered tribes, the clan appears to be united."

Titus looked down at the map once more, "Go to the Praetor of the watch, have him double the guards at the North gate."

Ecthelion left and Titus immediately went to his office. He wrote to Brennus Dexsius his most trusted Centurion:

Centurion Dexsius,
The orcs to the North are becoming an increasingly worrisome threat. Increase legion deployment and patrols in the region. Step up recruitment and training. War is likely.
Titus Severus - Preceptorum

The veteran legionnaire folded the note and called for a runner. He sent the note away and started to work on his plan to protect the Empire.
 
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#8
The bitter wind swept motes of Ice and snow across the slushy roads of Outpost. Stone walls protected the settlement from the elements. The inhabitants came and went with ease through the tall gates at each end of the town. Sitting on the stairs just outside the southern gate, was a woman clad in leather and fur. She plucked at the strings of a lute, several off key notes grating the ears of the passerbys. Most were wise enough to move on without engaging the woman. But some were not so lucky to avoid her attentions. A pair of men strode past speaking loudly, jabbing their fingers at a crumpled map.

“These orcs are getting too smart. Sending out written threats now! And do you think the mages in Andaria will lift a finger? They're all too busy playing politics with the missing prince. And that man is like to join the orcs!” The speaker waved his arms exasperatedly. It was then, that the off key strumming stopped abruptly and the woman in fur sprang up in front of the two men.

“I want your boots.” She stated calmly, her lips peeling back to reveal crooked teeth, in what might be considered a very offsetting grin.

“Oh no...its the weird one again…” Said one man. They both stared her down warily.

“You will take them off, yes? Or I can.” The lute was pointed at the man wearing soft fur boots, as if it were a club.

“Run!” One man shouted and they both bolted. Dropping the map behind. For a second it seemed as if she might take off after them. But her attention was taken by the map that had floated down to the snowy ground. She swiped it up, and scanned the scribbles. Stowing the lute over her shoulder, she scrunched her nose and mouthed the sounds she thought she could make out. Reading was not her strong point.

“uuug…der. Omies. Trii… tribute.” Eventually she grumbled and crumpled the map a little more. “Jarl Harek and Brynjar have been talking about going on a raid.” She started towards the Clans village, map still in hand. “I do not have any orc toes for my necklace yet. Maybe we take the orcs shinies.” A hand came up to pat the string tied round her neck; which was adorned by blackened severed toes