Jace’s plan was to take on the orcs all by himself, and he was beginning to think it was a stupid one.
The orc encampment was a mile from the clearing where the portal had been opened, pushed up against a rocky hillside. All the trees for 300 feet around the camp had been cut down and used to make huts and walls. Jace guessed a fair amount of the wood was needlessly burned in fires too, and it wouldn’t be long before they needed to cut further into the elven forest. So much for living harmoniously with the elves.
The cleared landscape meant Jace was visible for a long time as he approached the front gate. Four guards watched him, two with bows and two with axes. Jace saw they were level 15, which was surprisingly low. He was used to the NPCs he fought being 2-3 levels above him. “Why are they only 15?” Jace asked when he was still some distance from them.
{That is the max for this module. They can be as low as 10, scaling down for the ambitious low-level players, but 15 is as high as they go. I believe Thor Shorshth can go as high as 20, but not his minions. I’m guessing Gandhi will make up for it in numbers. There will probably be more than 50.}
Snowy walked alongside Jace, but he had left Esther and Psycho back to prevent any runners should his plan not go perfectly. As they got closer, the guards spent more time looking at the wolf than the shaman, but nobody raised a weapon. They weren’t scripted on how to handle an orc approaching them. If he had been a human or a dwarf, they would have attacked.
Jace stopped when he was still 30 feet away. “I have come from the Pexton Mountains,” he said, making up the name on the spot. “I have been sent by Trockstike, God of mountain storms. His vengeance splits rocks and sunders peaks. He is angered by your presence here and can no longer tolerate the sacrilegious ways of your leader. I would speak with Thor Shorshth to resolve this incongruity.”
The orc shaman knew the stupid guards wouldn’t have understood much of what he said, but they recognized the name of their half-orc leader, even if they had trouble pronouncing it. “Do you come for war?” one of the guards asked. Even though he hadn’t understood Jace’s speech, it sounded like he was planning to initiate conflict.
“I have come to free you, return your strength, and give you purpose.”
That sounded good to the orcs. Since the elves had left, they had been bored to death. Of course, that was better than being shot to death, which is what happened when they ventured out of camp, and Psycho hunted them. Because of that, they spent almost all their time in the cramped settlement complaining about the lack of freedom and the poor quality of forest food, which was primarily mushrooms and berries, since none of their archers were skilled enough to fell a deer and couldn’t spend much time trying without drawing Psycho’s ire.
“Good,” the guard said. “You want to see Thorshush?” It was a valiant attempt at the name. “I will bring you. Come.”
The one guard left the other three and led Jace into the encampment. The game didn’t know what to do with dozens of orcs when they weren’t fighting, so the creatures mostly milled about their tents and huts, but when Jace arrived, carrying himself taller than any of them with a fabulous white wolf at his side, this caught their attention, and Jace noticed a small retinue following him. Just what he wanted.
The camp was small for the number of orcs it was supposed to hold and even smaller with the increase Gandhi had blessed Jace with, so it didn’t take long to reach the far side of it. The ground was much rockier at the base of the hill, and Jace saw a large section carved into the stone, so it looked like a stage, sitting several feet above the main level of the camp. Against the hill, several prominent buildings stood, and Jace saw a half-orc and an old shaman lumbering out of two of them. The older orc looked weak, and Jace could guess why. He turned his attention to the leader first.
“Thor Shorshth, I have come on a mission from the gods. They are not happy with you!”
Thor was level 18 with just over 700 HP. He carried a massive axe and wore half-plate with a large shield on his hip. Likely he would be at least as hard as Drescher’s guards had been, but Jace didn’t plan on fighting him fair.
“What is the meaning of this?” he answered. “Who are you? Why have you come?”
Standard questions. “I am Jace Thorne, disciple of Trockstike, God of mountain storms. His vengeance splits rocks and sunders peaks.” It had sounded good when he had made it up before, so he used it again. “And his vengeance lies upon you, Thor Shorshth. You erred when you led these orcs into the forest. They do not belong here. They belong in the mountains. Just because you are a half-elf doesn’t mean they are. You shall lead them from whence you came immediately.”
Several of the orcs behind Jace raised their fists in a cheer. He didn’t turn to look, but it sounded like the crowd was increasing every second.
“Foolishness,” Thor replied. “I, too, have been sent here on a mission by my god, and I will not turn away because some impudent orc demands it. You are outnumbered here, outsider. You should leave before you are carried out.”
This response did not get the same reaction from the growing audience. “These orcs gathered here do not agree,” Jace countered. “Your forest god has no power over them. He offers them no protection in the woods. The elven archer kills them like goblins. My god would protect them. Follow Trockstike, and I will lead you back into the mountains.”
Again, more cheers from behind him. Thor grew cross at this exchange and was about to shout back at them, but the elder shaman stepped in front of him. If the magic user was anything like Jace, his spells didn’t work as well in the forest, and this newcomer’s offer would sound especially pleasant. “What are you proposing?” the old orc asked.
“I challenge Thor Shorshth for the right to lead this band of noble orcs. If he wins, you may continue following whatever foolish god led you to these cursed woods. But if I win, you shall all bathe in the chaotic glory of my god’s lightning, and I will lead you back to where you belong.”
Even more cheers than before.
“Enough!” Thor shrieked. “You foolish outsider. I will kill you and then eat your wolf.”
Snowy growled at the threat, but Jace put a hand on her shoulder, which was impressively high on his body now. “Easy girl,” he whispered. “You know I won’t let that happen.”
“A proper challenge has been issued,” the old orc said. “Thor Shorshth, do you accept?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Thor answered by pulling his axe and shield and rushing at the would-be usurper. “No!” Jace cried. He had reformatted his Summon Stone spell and magically erected a five-foot wall in front of the charging attacker. The half-orc collided hard against the barrier, and his raised weapons flew over the stone while he bounced back. The throng of orcs laughed at the display. Jace remained stern. “We do not fight with weapons. We fight as our gods made us. Up there.” Jace pointed to the stone stage cut into the hillside. He didn’t wait for a response and easily leaped up to the ledge, Snowy following after him.
The raised area gave the audience a better view of the fight, and Jace wanted to ensure they saw everything. As most of them looked at their leader pick himself off the ground, begrudgingly leave his weapons, and climb up onto the ledge, Jace secretly cast his Armor totem into a cleft in the back wall of the shelf. He found another spot fifty feet away and cast his Mana Bank totem too. He put 50 mana in, only needing it to boost his Mana Generation when he used his spell, so he didn’t start drawing on it yet, and let his natural Mana Generation slowly bring him back up now that he was standing on rock again. With his pool at 700 mana, he wasn’t even half empty yet.
Jace had tossed aside his axe, and the tower shield was safely stored in his inventory. He also took the new cloak off in case any observer thought it gave him protection. Thor was still wearing his half plate. “Did your elf wench of a mother push you out wearing that armor?” Jace chided, knowing full well his mother would have had to have been an orc.
Thor growled at him but undid the metal chest piece and tossed it aside. “Are we to fight naked?” he asked.
Jace shook his head. “No need to embarrass you further.”
That was all the half-orc could take, and he rushed again at Jace, his fists leading the way. Jace Stood his Ground and took a massive shot across the chin that nearly took him off his feet. It was only 20 damage, but it felt like a sledgehammer hit him.
{He is a fighter,} Gracie said, {he is proficient in unarmed attacks. Fists only do five damage unless you are a monk or take specific feats, but he probably has a damage bonus in the high 30s. Fists are usually considered light weapons, meaning you can only use half the damage bonus, but once you get above 18 Constitution, that changes.}
Jace struck back and hit hard, but the half-orc’s Damage Resistance prevented most of the harm. Jace Stood his Ground for the next strike too, and this one was a critical, doing over 30. With almost 600 HP, Jace could take a beating, but even with his pain settings turned down, he was not enjoying this. As the fight continued, Jace missed as often as he hit, but Thor never missed. As a shaman, Jace didn’t have unarmed proficiency and knew he took a -10 for each attack. He had done a little boxing in his life, but he was much better with a sword.
{If he rolls a one or a two,} she replied. {Law of averages says it should happen once every ten attacks. Just hang in there.}
He grimaced at the advice and took another critical hit across the chin, almost spinning him around. It had been five rounds, and the half-orc had thrown ten punches, but none had missed. The crowd was growing restless as Jace was clearly losing this battle, and the hope that they might be returning to their mountain homes was dwindling.
Finally, at round eight, Thor stumbled under a punch from Jace, and his return strike passed just in front of the shaman’s chin. Jace’s Convict feat triggered, and he got a brief look at the half-orcs character sheet. Part of him wanted to remove the unarmed proficiency so he could try to beat him honestly, but that would mean changing his class, and Gandhi probably wouldn’t allow that. Instead, he stuck with his original plan. Luckily the half-orc had rolled a one, and Jace got to change two things. He had promised never to change someone’s alignment, but he made an exception. Thor was Guile, Balanced, and Traditional. Jace changed Balanced to Chaotic and Traditional to Progressive.
Suddenly he was back on the rocky ledge as if no time had passed, and he leveled a return punch at his opponent, reaching out to his Mana Bank totem and funneling 300 points down his shoulder as he cast Righteous Judgment. He usually kept this one as an All-In spell, but he was going to need to cast it twice in close succession, so he had redesigned it.
As his fist hit Thor square in the jaw, lightning flashed as a tremendous thunderbolt lanced down from the cloudless sky and struck the half-orc leader through his head. Three hundred mana produced 60 damage. His Spell Damage skill of 6 and Thor’s critical failure in saving increased it to 99, and then it was multiplied by eight. Even if he had been at full health, he would have died.
As their leader fell, the gathered crowd, which was now nearly every orc not on guard duty (and half of those had deserted their posts), watched with rapt attention as Jace stood over the fallen half-orc. He dashed over to his cloak and put it on, picking up his axe and storing it in his inventory. Inside one of the cloak’s pockets was the idol he had bought several days ago when he had planned out this module. Now he rushed to the edge of the stage and stood before the crowd of close to 100 orcs.
“Trokstike has spoken!” Jace declared, holding the stone figure high in the air. “He is calling you to join him, to worship him. He will take you to victory. Lightning will not harm you. Arrows will not kill you. You will be orcs again, fierce and invincible!”
{Preach it, brother,} Gracie said. {I am recording this and sending it to your pastor.}
Jace ignored her and watched as each orc before him, including the old shaman, took a knee and pledged allegiance to their new god. It took a while for the gathered throng to all respond, but peer pressure ensured compliance. Jace smiled and got down on his knees. “You!” he commanded to the closest orc. “Come forward.”
The chosen one only needed to walk a few feet to reach the edge of the stone shelf. It rose to his waist, and Jace interlaced both hands on the orc’s bald head. “See the protection he has given you!”
The shaman again reached out to his totem and cast Righteous Judgement. Lightning and thunder flashed from above as before and washed over the vulnerable creature. With the other orcs so close, they were momentarily blinded. However, when they blinked the splotches from their eyes, they saw their orc companion still standing, with no indication that the electricity had caused him any pain.
{Oops,} Gracie said. {I guess NPCs don’t change their alignment when they switch gods.}
Jace rose to his feet and backed away from the uninjured orc as his mind raced for a solution. His intended victim – the orc that was supposed to have started an even bigger chain reaction than with the mummies – patted himself down, looking for scorch marks, but found none. “It worked!” he shouted, and the rest of the throng responded in a cheer.
“Wait!” the old shaman said, finding his way to the ledge and magically enhancing his voice.
They quieted and saw the elder orc signaling out an archer on the crowd’s edge. “You! Guard!” he then pointed at the orc who had survived Jace’s spell. “Shoot him!”
Jace winced in anticipation of the impending attack but underestimated how bad orc archers were and how inferior their equipment was compared to Psycho’s. The arrow flew straight and true and sunk into the orc’s chest with two criticals, but the attack probably only had a base damage of ten, and with a DR of close to 20, the orc’s HP only dropped by 11.
Everyone had expected the arrow to bounce off its target, including the orc, who now had an arrow sticking out of his chest. He looked down at it for a moment and then ripped it out. “It didn’t even hurt!” he lied. “Trockstike protects us!”
Another cheer went up. At first, it was just a cry of celebration, but soon distinct shouts could be heard. “Kill the elf! Get the Archer! He can’t hurt us now!” Soon everyone was shouting some version of the battle cry, and before Jace could smack his forehead in frustration, the hoard was rushing out of the meeting area and back through the settlement, undoubtedly, to make a mad dash to Psycho’s home.
{You know,} Gracie said. {Everyone thinks you cheat to win. They never get to see when your plans go wrong. Don’t worry. Esther has saved your butt every other time you’ve messed up. I’m sure she and Psycho can handle about 100 orcs rushing their position.}
Jace bit back a retort and went into his inventory to get Diamond Etcher. “Snowy!” he shouted, bringing the wolf to his side. He watched as the last of the orcs began filtering out of the clearing. “We have work to do. Run and warn Esther. You’re faster than a few stupid orcs.” The familiar ate up the compliment and bolted after the crowd. Jace hopped off the ledge and followed.