Takarn woke up to the sound of footsteps approaching his hide shelter, he opened his eyes slightly, to give the illusion of unconsciousness but still examining the intruder.
The orc walked up and Takarn immediately dismissed him as a threat, he appeared to be 15 summers old and was still quite scrawny for his age, he stopped about a metre short of Takarn’s sleeping area and cleared his throat.
“Bogdan Takarn?” The boy asked questioningly, as the large muscular, dark skinned orc rose from his slumber.
“Yes, what is it you seek?” Takarn asked with genuine curiosity everyone knew it was bad form to wake a sleeping orc, and bad form could get you killed.
“I am a messenger sent by Khan Kelshar, he requests that you meet with him at once.” Now this woke Takarn up, what did his commander want with him? He spent the next few minutes’ frantically dressing.
“Take me to him.” Takarn rumbled and the boy gestured for him to follow before walking off up the hill higher from the banks of the river.
As they walked through the main camp Takarn took this moment to truly appreciate how far the river encampment had come.
It had started as nothing, just mud and trees, now it was a vast sea of tents, scents, sights and delights, merchants hawked their wares, children ran around Takarn’s feet squealing in delight. Smells of spices and perfumes of the plains assaulted his nostrils. It was a true feast for the senses.
He walked up the trodden earth path toward what had affectionately been called ‘Khans Hill’ they approached the summit and when there they were briefly stopped by a pair of guards.
“What is your name and business?” Said the leftmost guard in a gruff voice.
“My name is Lorik, Lorik the messenger and this,” He said gesturing to Takarn. “Is the great Bogdan Takarn.”
The guards spoke amongst themselves for a few more seconds before letting them pass. Lorik led Takarn through the winding paths of Khans Hill, before stopping in front of a truly immense hide shelter and gesturing for him to enter.
Takarn gulped nervously before steeling himself and stepping through the threshold.
What he entered into was a chaos, pure and simple.
People rushed around carrying various pieces of armour and different forms written on the coarse papyrus used by the plains orcs.
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In the room stood Khan Kelshar, now up close Takarn could finally appreciate just how immense the older Khan truly was. Takarn stood at 6’10, tall even for an orc, but this beast of a man towered at nearly seven foot with a well-muscled athletic frame to match. He was currently being fitted in a suit of cast iron plate mail, this caused Takarn to do a double take, metal was a rarity on the plains and with that much, with that much one could buy an entire war band.
On the opposite side of the room stood five orcs each different to the last, on the far left stood a large male orc with impressive tusks and bulk. Next to him stood a thin lithely built male orc who wore two vicious looking bone long knives at his hips and had a cruel and intelligent glint in his eye. Next to him was a beautiful she orc, she stood ram rod straight her hands clasped in front of were in the trademark religious pose of the eternal blue sky. Beside her stood two more generic looking orcs.
After examining them he turned back to the Khan who, much to Takarn’s surprise was watching him with a knowing smile on his face.
“Welcome Bogdan Takarn.” He said in his deep smooth voice causing Takarn to flinch, he still knew not why he had been summoned here and he was still quite wary.
“You called my Khan.” Takarn rumbled back.
“That I did, let me ask you a question Takarn, have you ever had a command before?”
“No lord Khan I have not.” Takarn replied deadpan.
“I thought not, well then it seems I was correct to summon you lot here.” He said gesturing toward the assembled orcs, causing the man who was at the time fitting the Khans bracers to squeal in surprise at the sudden motion.
“I was about to inquire as to who they were my lord.” He asked, assessing the other members of the meeting once more.
“They, Bogdan Takarn, are the most promising applicants for the position of Ataman.” An Ataman was the Orcish title for a sergeant, Takarn recalled. Their role was to help the Bogdan with command, logistics and training of the unit and it was no question that having a good Ataman could mean the difference between life and death.
“I have summoned them here as you.” He said gesturing toward Takarn. “Are in my opinion, the most promising Bogdan under my command, so I have taken it upon myself to help you along your way.” He said smiling
Takarn just kneeled before his Khan. “My Khan, I am unworthy of such aid.”
“Bah, rise Bogdan. Are you the Khan here?” He asked questioningly.
“No my Khan.” He answered warily wondering where Kelshar was going with this.
“Then considering you are not I will be the one to decide what you are and are not worthy of.” He spoke. “No go, take your pick.”
He said dismissing both Takarn and the Ataman applicants.
“Oh wait Takarn.” He heard the Khan, say while he rushed outside the hut to catch up to Takarn.
“Yes my Khan.” He said turning.
“I almost forgot, here.” He said handing over a small sack of roughly fifty medallions shaped in the form of a Great Plains elephant.
“My crest, saves you from having to requisition them yourself.” He said before turning to re-enter his hut.
“Who knows?” He said over his shoulder. “Maybe one day I shall reward you enough to carry your own into battle.” He said chuckling as he retreated back into the shade of his shelter.
Takarn turned back to face the assembled orcs, smiling as he daydreamed of what his future crest would look like, but that was in the future, for now he still needed to choose an Ataman.