Ruvion, Orc Ancestral Province, Shukon,
The entire orc kingdom was known as Ruvion.
Within Ruvion, in the Orc Ancestral Province called Shukon, the orcs were having their annual chief gathering. Shukon was a special province to the orcs, thus it was an unoccupied province. Only the Bone Shaman resided in Shukon where he would commune with the ancestors regularly.
At the center of Shukon was a large square with enough space to hold over a thousand people. There was a statue at the center of the square, of a respected orc overlord. In his time he had ruled over all the tribes single handedly, causing all subsequent generations to honour him with respect. He was the only orc to be given the title of overlord in their history.
There were several rows of tables and chairs surrounding the statue. These were used when celebrating feasts and other special occasions that required the gathering of the orcs. There were five tables forming a circle amongst the others. During the annual gathering, each chief would bring along with them their vice chief and blood chiefs. Hence each chief would occupy a single of those five tables along with their subordinates.
Other than the statue and the furniture, there were a few huts at the the edge of the square, but otherwise Shukon was practically empty. Only when there were events would the orcs build stands all over the place to provide food and other necessities.
Presently, Zogriff, his vice chief Gulmorn and his ten blood chiefs had already arrived on scene. They were the first tribe to arrive due to how close in proximity their province was to Shukon.
Zogriff led his group over to one of the five tables and sat at the top end. Gulmorn sat at the bottom end, and the blood chiefs sat on either remaining side, five each. The tables were meant to specifically accommodate twelve individuals.
"Welcome, Chieftain Zogriff, vice Chieftain Gulmorn, blood chiefs."
A voice echoed, seemingly out of nowhere. However, soon a scrawny looking orc walked from beside the overlord statue toward the group. This was the current Bone Shaman of the orcs. He used to have a name but it was cast aside when he became the present Shaman. The orcs all addressed him as Elder Bones or Shaman bones.
Most of his body was exposed, save for a loincloth at his waist and leather arm bands around his arms. He had five necklaces around his neck, each made out of different materials. One was a bunch of teeth strung together, another was large wooden beads, two were made of an assortment of polished crystals and the final one was a simple lace with a.... Dried finger? for a pendant. He also had a curved snake head staff in his hands. Overall he seemed... appalling.
Zogriff's eyes quickly found the approaching Shaman. "You're getting better at hiding your aura Elder Bones." He said with an ugly smile. He hadn't felt his presence even when he scanned the vicinity upon arriving. He had assumed the Shaman wasn't nearby.
Shaman Bones revealed his lack of teeth with an even uglier smile than Zogriff. "If I don't improve then what kind of shaman would I be?" He said with pride.
Zogriff laughed and nodded. "That's true, very true." He was the Chief who liked Shaman Bones the most. He would make it a point of duty to visit him whenever he had excessive free time. They would spend hours discussing many things in a random manner.
Shaman bones ran his eyes over the group and stopped on Ralfat. "No bones to pick with me today, Ralfat?" He asked with a raised brow.
Ralfat who was seated with his hands behind his head and eyes closed opened a single eye to look at Shaman Bones. "Soon, when the others arrive I'll have enough people to pick at. I can't wait to see who's actually against the idea of war this time around." His other eye opened. "Speaking of which, what revelations do you have for us this time Old Bones?" The only person who addressed Shaman Bones as 'Old Bones' was Ralfat. It was a problem at first, but over time, as their kinship deepened, Shaman Bones got used to it.
Ralfat's question made everyone look at Shaman Bones in anticipation and curiosity. He looked at them and shook his head. "When everyone is here and the meeting begins I'll say all what I have to say."
Ralfat snorted in disapproval and closed his eyes once more.
Shaman Bones didn't bother with him. He was used to Ralfat being one of the unruly younger generation. Ralfat wasn't the only one who was like this, but he was the only one Shaman Bones liked. All the others were excessively prideful and arrogant. Ralfat was more of a rebel who wasn't afraid to speak his mind, but he also knew his limits.
Everyone else accepted Shaman Bones's words and quietly waited for the rest of the Chiefs to arrive.
Soon, another group of orcs marched into the square with a powerful presence. This group was from the province opposite of Shukon. Their chief's name was Zamash. He led them over to the gathering place and sat on the table opposite to Zogriff.
"Elder Bones, Chief Zogriff." He said with a nod before taking a seat. His vice chief, Skull and blood chiefs nodded as well and took a seat.
It was a custom of orcs that Chiefs greet each other, and the Bone Shaman. The vice chiefs and blood chiefs would have to greet the chiefs and Shaman as well. Only the Chiefs and Shaman didn't need to greet anyone beneath them. Of course there were some chiefs who disregarded any greeting, who would be arriving shortly.
"Zamash, its been a while we haven't seen." Zogriff exclaimed. "How is the Rockvale province doing?" He asked cordially.
Zamash locked onto him with his eyes. His expression was particularly indifferent. "You do small talk now Zogriff?" He replied rhetorically. Then he sighed, "Rockvale is fine I suppose. Our border is usually peaceful, unless we provoke that human scum. I can't believe I'm saying this but I think the humans will be more trouble than we expect."
Shaman Bones gave a vague smile upon hearing Zamash's exclamation. No one saw it, or knew what he was thinking.
Zogriff revealed a bit of shock as he asked, "Why do you say that?"
Zamash scoffed in self-resentment. "I fought with Grimsby again. This time I actually lost to him." His tone was filled with regret.
"Grimsby defeated you?" Zogriff exclaimed in surprise. His expression then turned thoughtful. "Well the humans certainly aren't weak. Each Proficient they foster is quite a handful to deal with. The weapons they create are quite powerful, after all."
Bang!
Zamash slammed his fist onto the table. "That's the only reason! If that scum hadn't gotten a new sword I would have never lost to him." He said angrily.
Zogriff, still looking at him asked curiously, "What class was this new sword of his?"
"Dragon." Zamash replied apprehensively.
Zogriff's surprise turned into a frown. "Where are the humans getting all these high class weapons from. Could it be the Dwarves supplying them?"
Zamash shook his head. "Dwarven weaponry are unique and caries their insignia and craftsmanship style. This sword he wielded was plainly designed. Just a reinforced gold hilt and a blackiron blade. But the power in that thing was overwhelming. My damn axe was even broken by it."
"Hmmm." Zogriff hummed entering a phase of deep thought.
Shaman Bones finally joined in. "The humans are truly not as weak as you all think they are. Yes they may be unable to use magic but so what? We can use magic, the elves can use magic, the fairies can, and yet humans are still here even after so many generations. Why do you think that is?" He asked rhetorically. "Because of leniency, or maybe because of the legend of the blood dragon? No, the humans are still here because they are smart. They are cunning and capable and they multiply quickly. If they were weak we wouldn't still be trying to deal with them."
Shaman Bones's words sunk in everyone's skull like sponges absorbing water. This wasn't his first time saying something like this, just a different use of words. Either way he was right. If the humans were easy to wipe out why hadn't they just done it? They all knew the answer very well. They couldn't. They couldn't just do it because there were individuals amongst the humans that posed a threat to them. Whilst majority were weak, the true elite were nothing to sneeze at.
Everyone's mood was dampened by Shaman Bones's bucket of cold water. Was this meeting going to end in the same way as the others? Would they be cancelling their war plans again to return to the drawing board?
Just then, two groups of orcs arrived simultaneously. Whether they came together or met along the way, who knows. One thing for certain was that both the chiefs of those groups were all about peace. They both had signed treaties with the elves and were against going to war. That made all the other orcs despise them in one way or another.
The two groups occupied two tables, side by side. They greeted who they were supposed to upon arriving, just like Zamash had done.
"Chief Zamash, Elder Bones, Chief Zogriff and blood chiefs." Zenif greeted with a nod, before taking a seat. This orc chief was rather unique among all the chiefs. His uniqueness came from his looks. He was just as green as the other orcs and dressed in the same way, apart from being fully clothed, unlike the rest of them. But his looks were different... He was actually handsome. At first glance one would assume he was an argonian, but no he was just a good looking orc. A well mannered one too at that.
The other Chief did the same greeting as Zenif, then nodded before taking a seat. His name was Borg. Borg was also unique in his own way. He was probably the shortest orc in the kingdom. He was no taller than five feet and rounded like a dumpling. One would wonder how he even became chief of his tribe. Well, everyone had their secrets.
Now that four chiefs had already arrived there was only one group left. Once they arrived, the annual chief gathering would begin. Till they arrived, everyone could only wait.
Zamash cast an icy glare at Zenif and then Borg. "I'm assuming the two of you will still be vouching for world peace?" He mocked. Aggression was in an orc's nature. Orcs who displayed softness and tenderness were despised by others. Zamash despised Zenif and Borg's ideology of peace.
Borg's expression turned cold and he was about to respond but was stopped by a wave of Zenif's hand.
Zenif, with his gaze now fixed onto Zamash smirked. "I heard you were defeated by a human Proficient. Shouldn't you be considering whether you're even capable of waging war?" He countered.
Zamash who was already angry, stood up from his seat with a dark expression on his face. "Watch how you speak to me boy. If this wasn't the Ancestral Province I would already be introducing your face to the pavement." He said threateningly.
Zenif laughed and shook his head. "Like Grimsby did with yours?" He countered a second time. Wasn't he supposed to be a peace maker? This certainly wasn't a method of making peace.
Zamash picked up the substitute axe he had come with intending to teach Zenif a lesson, but Shaman Bones's voice stopped him.
"Enough, both of you!" His voice boomed. Who knew a scrawny orc could sound so majestic. "Kalam is here, we will be beginning shortly." He said, meaningfully glancing in a certain direction.
Zamash who had already stayed his hand and looked at Shaman Bones followed his gaze and caught sight of a group of approaching orcs. The leader, a large, tough looking orc with one eye. He immediately calmed down and took his seat.
Zenif snorted disdainfully at Zamash's cowardly behaviour. He could see that Zamash was afraid of Kalam.
In fact, majority of the orcs feared and respected him.
Who wouldn't fear someone who plucked out their own eye after loosing a bet.