In the fifth adventure of D&D Language Exchange at Dice & Comics Cafe, a party of adventurers traveled through time and space to save the Silver Marches from conquest at the hands of the orcs of the Many Arrows Kingdom and their new tyrannical leader.
War raged in the Silver Marches in the far north. Orcs, goblins, and trolls from the Spine of the World and the Evermoors gathered together in a great horde that swept across the country. The kingdoms of dwarves, elves, and men fell one after another, until only a few strongholds remained. The allied nations of Luruar stood at a knife’s edge between utter annihilation and survival. It was in this time of their greatest need that heroes from the distant south heeded their cry for help. They were adventurers from that famed mercenary company, the Flaming Fists of Baldur’s Gate!
While many were the soldiers that answered the call to arms on behalf of the Silver Marches, these five turned the tide of the war, though their deeds would be known to only a few. Their actions transcended the boundaries of time and space, reshaping both the history of the world and people’s memories.
Bea Evangelista, better known as Bee, was a human monk and a charlatan. She had grown up on the streets and found her niche in fortune-telling. One day, the cards of fortune told her to take to the road. She began to heal the wounded and fight evildoers on a path of self-improvement, proving that anyone can become a better version of themselves.
John Carter was a human champion of noble birth, with a generous and optimistic nature. He had an older brother, the heir to their noble house, and clever younger siblings. In such a large family, he felt little of the burden of responsibility, making only a few necessary visits each year to maintain his relationships. He was the sort of man who embarked on adventures for their own sake.
Nadia Romer was a goliath paladin. A proud soldier of her tribe, she had taken an oath of devotion, vowing to preserve those closest to her. She had no qualms about staining her hands with the blood of her enemies if it meant saving the lives of her comrades.
Trexx Boom was a dragonborn cleric descended from the line of a mighty bronze dragon. He was a priest pledged to the service of Io, with a tempestuous disposition. He always sought to protect the weak and strike down those that would prey upon them, summoning both healing winds for the meek and vengeful storms to punish the wicked.
Nymous was a tiefling warlock with a lust for forbidden knowledge. He had been expelled from the arcane academy and lived in seclusion as a hermit. He had developed a dangerous desire for power which led him to make a pact with a fiendish patron. With the help of otherworldly powers, he had discovered the secret of achieving extraordinary wealth before he enlisted in the Flaming Fists.
These five heroes had set out from Baldur’s Gate, where they had previously been part of a city-wide investigation into the supernatural darkness that had covered the city and the War of the Dead Three Cults which had raged in the streets. They were instrumental in the investigation which ultimately revealed that the Church of Torm in Elturel had been part of a massive conspiracy to orchestrate the downfall of Baldur’s Gate. While their heroic deeds were recognized by many, their part in the investigation made them targets and convenient scapegoats in the political fallout between Baldur’s Gate and Elturel.
As a result of political maneuvering beyond their control, they had been dispatched to the most dangerous part of the war in the north. Their destination was Castle Surbrin, which stood along the River Surbrin. It was here that the orcs of the kingdom of Many Arrows were laying siege to a vital defensive position. If this castle were overrun, the remaining stronghold of the Silver Marches would surely falter.
Though it was a deadly mission almost certainly meant to end in the heroes’ demise, they were heartened by the words of their fellow adventurer among the Flaming Fists, a diviner named Sage who discerned the future in the petals of flowers. Sage had prophesied that the heroes had a crucial role to play, and their presence there would turn the tide of the war… one way or the other.
The River Surbrin
It was a long and arduous journey up the trails and roads on the western edge of the Sword Coast. Then at last, the party arrived at the River Surbrin. Taking a small boat up the river, they began to pass by the sites of brutal battles between orcs and dwarves.
One such place was a vast and ruined field littered with the corpses of orcs, dwarves, and even a barbarian tribe. Nadia recognized the barbarians as members of one of the Uthgardt tribes whom she remembered from her past, long before she had gone south to Baldur’s Gate.
The heroes chose to stop upon the riverbank. They went into the field to search for survivors, but nothing seemed to stir upon the field of the dead. Then they saw a lone figure moving in the distance. It was a single living dwarf, but their armor and attire did not resemble any of the dwarves that had been slain upon the field. On closer inspection, the heroes realized that it was a scavenger who was looting the dead indiscriminately, caring not whether the loot was taken from orcs, dwarves, or Uthgardt barbarians.
When the heroes approached, the dwarf tried to flee, but Nadia caught the scavenger and brought them to heel. Frightened at first, the dwarf sensed that these strangers did not mean harm. She named herself Istrid Horn, a dwarf of Waterdeep. She was far from home, for the rumor of war and opportunity had drawn her to the Silver Marches.
The heroes asked what had happened in the battle upon this field. Istrid scoffed and answered.
“It was no battle. It was a massacre! The orcs of Many Arrows had brought their one-eyed shamans with them. Those shamans conjured a poisonous cloud that killed anyone in its path, orcs and dwarves alike. They did not care that they were slaughtering their own kindred. They prayed only for destruction, and whatever evil gods they worship granted their wish.”
Trexx had examined some of the bodies of the slain, and his observations confirmed Istrid’s report. There were dead orcs and dwarves who appeared to have succumbed to a deadly magical poison. Now, he grew fearful of the dangers that would lie ahead. Perhaps Istrid sensed his worry, for she unfurled a mat and emptied the contents of the magical bag where she had been stuffing her scavenged goods. From among her wares, she offered powerful scrolls of both healing and destruction. Though the price was high, Trexx the cleric gladly purchased a scroll, as did Nymous the warlock.
The heroes invited Istrid to join them on their quest, promising to introduce her to other adventurers and would-be customers. But alas, she had still more battlefields to visit, and other clients who were waiting for her, or so she declined their offer. The heroes thought nothing of it as they said farewell to the dwarf, but in truth she believed they had little chance of survival against the fearsome orcs whose strength she had witnessed.
Castle Surbrin
When the heroes arrived at the besieged castle Surbrin, they witnessed a mighty army of orcs on the far side of the river. But they also found reason for hope. Inside the castle, there were many soldiers of the Silver Marches, both dwarves and men, who manned the parapets. And the leaders among them were none other than fellow heroes of the Flaming Fists. Commander Godrik Vanhart and the elf wizard Theren Vaelthorne led the defense of Castle Surbrin. They too had been part of the investigation into the Elturian conspiracy that had threatened Baldur’s Gate, and they had also been exiled to the northern war, where their enemies surely meant for them to die. But they had mustered the defenders into a stalwart force that held the castle against the enemy.
The heroes and the two leaders of the defense sat around a campfire later than evening, exchanging stories. The heroes told of the field of the dead and the massacre that had taken place there according to a scavenger’s reports. Godrik and Theren confirmed the heroes’ suspicions that the shaman of the Many Arrows army possessed powerful magic that could decimate whole legions. And the orcish army was led by Hartusk, a fearsome warlord of Many Arrows, known for his cunning and brutality.
Yet even as Godrik spoke of Hartusk, his descriptions began to change, as a strange and inexplicable transformation began to take place all around the heroes. Suddenly, in Godrik’s own words, Hartusk was no longer a warlord but the king of all the orcs. And Many Arrows was not a mere kingdom but a vast empire of orcs and other folk subjugated by them. Godrik lamented that the territory of Many Arrows now encompassed the Spine of the World, the Evermoors, and large swatches of what were once the Silver Marches.
Godrik and Theren’s appearance became haggard and worn, and most of the soldiers in the castle had vanished, leaving only a few tired defenders that looked fearfully beyond the walls. What they saw north of the river was an even greater army that the heroes had seen when they first arrived. The pavilions of the orcs stretched as far as the eye could see, and the smoke rising from their campfires filled the sky, blotting out the moon and the stars.
For Godrik, Bee, John Carter, and the soldiers in the castle, this was always how the world had been. But for a few among them, including Nadia, Trexx, Nymous, and Theren, something impossible had happened. The world had changed in the blink of an eye. The War of the Silver Marches, which moments ago was a desperate yet hopeful contest, had turned into a campaign of conquest, and the heroes were on the losing side.
Alone among the heroes, Nymous was the first to understand what had transpired. His pact with his fiendish patron had granted him eldritch knowledge beyond the comprehension of ordinary folk. The voices from the Nine Hells told him the truth. Something terrible had happened in the past which changed the history of the world.
The heroes had little time to consider what had happened. The bells upon the parapets were rung. The army of the orcs had begun to march upon the castle walls!
Commander Godrik began to panic. He looked to the heroes for advice, and salvation. Therefore, the heroes took charge and ordered the full evacuation of the castle. They would hold the wall against the enemy until everyone else had fled to safety. Godrik would stand with them, while Theren would reach out to Sage the diviner in the hopes of better understanding what had happened to the world.
The Battle
The heroes stood upon the parapets and watched as the first wave of orcs approached the castle. The invaders were formidable and organized. An orc drummer beat upon fearsome drums to marshal his comrades, and their commander ordered ranks of soldiers to march forward in waves. With them came a one-eyed shaman of Gruumsh, the god of the orcs. In their vanguard, there was even a war troll, tall and terrible to look upon.
Yet the heroes were also formidable both in sword and magic. When the orcs drew near and began to place ladders upon the wall, they found the ground slick and slippery from oil that had been strategically spilled by Bee the monk. And Nymous called upon the power of the scroll he had purchased from Istrid Horn. As the scroll was consumed in a burst of flame, a fiery wall leapt up from the ground, covering the entire length of the castle wall. The orcs and their ladders were utterly consumed, and the survivors leapt back, struggling to put out the flames covering their bodies.
The orc commander was not dismayed. He called upon reinforcements, even as the war troll charged through the wall of magical fire and crashed against the castle gate.
Though John Carter had bolstered the gate, it was not enough to withstand the troll. The monstrous creature shattered the gate and burst through the opening, but Godrik and Nadia were waiting for him. Nadia manned a great ballista which she had found still in working order, and Godrik sat on horseback with his lance in hand. Godrik charged forward, and soon the champion and the troll were locked in mortal combat as the battle raged around them. Nadia shot the ballista into the ranks of the invaders, skewering the troll and an orc behind him, before wading into the melee with her halberd.
Upon the parapets, a deadly green cloud of magical poison had been conjured by the orc shaman. Bee was the first to fall against the murderous cloud, which rolled through the ranks of the heroes standing upon the walls. In their desperate hour, Trexx called to Io for aid, and his prayer was answered with the sudden onset of a sleet storm in the midst of the orcs. The shaman’s concentration was broken, and the green cloud vanished from the castle wall. Then the tide of the battle turned as the heroes fought back with sword and spell. The war troll was brought down and put to flame, and soon after the orcs began to rout. When at last the commander was slain by the heroes’ darts and spells from afar, the remaining survivors of the first wave fled from the castle.
A cheer went up in Castle Surbrin, but it was only a brief celebration. The orcs were too many for the heroes to defeat unaided, and no help would come to them in time. Therefore, they joined their comrades in the evacuation, but Bee alone strode into the battlefield just before the second wave of orcs arrived to loot the body of the fallen orc commander. She found upon his corpse a single parchment that had been sent from King Hartusk himself. Nadia knew the orcish language and read the message for the others.
To my loyal warrior, Castle Surbrin is the final redoubt of the meek men and dwarves of this land. You will put it to the torch, but not before you take possession of the prize that lies within. You must find it and bring it to me at any cost. Kill all the rest and take no prisoners. The world must learn at last who is the true king in the north.
Realizing that there was something in the castle that was of great value to the Hartusk the orc king, the heroes asked Godrik what it might be. He brought forth from the armory a cruel-looking greatsword wrapped in rags. He said that he had found it in another battle with the orcs, and something told him that it might be important, though he did not understand his instinct at the time.
Nymous alone among the heroes knew the true value of this weapon, for the fiendish voices in his head had told him of its history. This greatsword had once belonged to King Obould XVII, the former king of the Many Arrows Kingdom. In the hands of an orc from the bloodline of Obould, the greatsword became a fell and fiery weapon. Yet Obould had been humiliated and dethroned by the warlord Hartusk. Moreover, Hartusk had become an Eye of Gruumsh, one of those fearsome shamans who gouged out their own eye and in doing so saw the moment of their own death. Hartusk had foreseen that the Sword of Obould would be his undoing. Therefore, he orchestrated Obould’s downfall and usurped his throne, becoming a tyrant among the orcs.
Suddenly, Nymous sensed that it was no longer his own patron telling him these things, but another entity. This was the voice of Obould I, the progenitor of the line of orc kings before the rise of Hartusk the Usurper. Long ago, the first Obould had ascended to godhood and joined the ranks of the orcish pantheon as a lesser deity under Gruumsh One Eye. Now, he showed Nymous the warlock a vision of the future of orckind should Hartusk succeed in his conquest of the world. The orcs would rule over everyone, and having no one left to conquer, they would turn against each other. Their mighty empire would become divided and fall victim to infighting, ultimately crumbling to nothing. Obould and his successors knew that the true path to orc prosperity lay in periodic peace, trade, and diplomacy.
If only the line of Obould had a surviving heir who could reclaim the throne of Many Arrows from its merciless dictator!
It was then that Theren pulled out of his tattered robes a glimmering fruit. He explained that this was a fruit of time, which he and Godrik had procured on their previous quest in Baldur’s Gate. He went on to explain that in his conversation with Sage, the two of them had agreed that the timeline of the world had been altered by an anomaly in the past. The only way to restore the world that they knew was to travel to that moment in time and set right what went wrong.
Nadia had heard tales of King Obould during her childhood in the north. He was a great leader and also a maker of peace between the orcs and their neighbors. Perhaps the heroes could go back in time to a point in history when Obould was still alive and set things right.
There was little time to waste. The heroes took the armor of the fallen orcs in front of the castle and disguised themselves as orcs. Then Nadia took a bite of the fruit of time and thought of the stories she had heard of Obould XVII, the last king of his line. Soon, a blinding light consumed the heroes, forcing them to close their eyes.
Obould XVII
When the heroes opened their eyes again, they had traveled through time and space. They found themselves in a village of tattered huts. Inside were scores of orc soldiers, but they were all terribly maimed, each missing an arm or a leg or both. This was a village where the Many Arrows Kingdom sent its wounded veterans to live out their lives in seclusion.
There were only two orcs in the village who were whole in body. One was taller than any orc the heroes had ever seen, and he carried an enormous bundle of wood. The other was nearly as tall and carried his own bundle as well as an axe. The axe looked like a weapon made for war, but now it was notched and worn after being used for chopping wood. These two orcs were bringing tinder for the fires to keep the others in their community warm. But the rest of the orcs shunned them. Instead of giving thanks, they hurled cruel insults at them.
“Begone, Obould! You and your son Lorgru aren’t wanted around here!”
“We don’t need help or pity from craven cowards like you!”
It was clear the heroes had arrived at a point in time after Hartusk had usurped the throne. He had sent Obould and his son into exile to live among the wounded who could no longer fight, perhaps has a way to consolidate his own power by further humiliating the former king and his heir. In that, Hartusk must have succeeded, for all the wounded veterans here despised Obould and his son. Obould did not seem bothered by them, though his son Lorgru was clearly angered by their words.
The heroes, disguised as orcs, approached Obould and his son. Nadia held out his greatsword and spoke in the orcish tongue, beseeching him to take back his rightful place as king of the orcs. But Obould refused.
He explained that Hartusk, as an Eye of Gruumsh, had shown him a vision of the future. It was not the moment of his own death, but the death of his kingdom. The once mighty nation of Many Arrows would be shattered and broken, and the surviving orc people would be scattered to the corners of the world. Hartusk had assured him that this dark future would come to pass should the line of Obould continue to reign.
It was this haunting vision that convinced Obould to give up the throne without contest. Obould’s unwillingness to fight for the mantle of leadership had marked him a coward, and every day that he lived only strengthened that sentiment among his own people.
Now the heroes grew uncertain. Obould seemed certain of the vision that he had seen. Even if it was only a half-truth, he could not be swayed otherwise. Beside him, his son Lorgru grew angrier the more he heard his father and the newcomers speak.
Then it came into the minds of the heroes to offer the greatsword to Lorgru, son of Obould. Was he not of the line of orc kings, able to wield the power of the sword just like his father? With that fateful decision, the fate of the Many Arrows kingdom was sealed. Lorgru took up his father’s sword without protest. And he vowed to take back the throne of Many Arrows which was his birthright.
Through Nadia’s voice, each of the heroes offered words of wisdom to Lorgru. Bee charged Lorgru to be more like his father, forsaking bloodlust and revenge which would only lead to doom. Trexx reminded him that with great power comes greater responsibility. Nadia bade Lorgru to remember that strength comes from the unity of all his people. Nymous foretold that the absence of enemies would mean the orcs would have only each other to fight. And lastly, John Carter urged Lorgru to follow the ways of the Oboulds of old, who knew the value of peace for orc prosperity. Lorgru took these words to heart as he embarked on his quest to reclaim his father’s throne.
Nadia took another bite of the fruit of time, and with another flash of blinding light, she and her companions returned to their own time where the world was once again changed. The kingdom of Many Arrows still warred with its neighbors, but it had not conquered the Silver Marches, and the leadership of the orc people was contested. The kingdoms of elves, dwarves, and men still had a fighting chance.
The others who had returned would set out once more on their own adventures. Nadia and Trexx would go on to help those in need, while Nymous continued on his quest for ultimate power.
Yet not all of the heroes had returned. John Carter and Bee had chosen to remain in the past, fighting by Lorgru’s side. And though John Carter intended to set out on new adventures once Lorgru’s quest had been achieved, Bee the monk resolved to stay by the orc prince’s side even after he sat on the throne, so that she might guide him in his reign.
The light of hope was restored, if only for a brief moment. Soon, all the skies above the Silver Marches would darken. A foul ritual performed by the drow of the Underdark would thrust the land into perpetual night. Under the cover of darkness, the legions of the drow and their minions would emerge from Menzoberranzan to wage war upon the surface world.
But that is another tale for another time.