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After debating the issue, I decided that visiting Krovesport was not beneficial. I had enough supplies to last far longer already, and venturing into a thieves' den was asking for trouble that I did not need to otherwise face. The knighthood might encourage members of the Order to be brave, but they definitely did not encourage them to be stupid. "Gulak dimargi," a melodic voice agreed, and I turned, somewhat startled to see an elven figure standing before me. "You are Sir Thorne, are you not?" "I am Thorne. The title is mine, but I prefer it not be employed." "Gulak dimargi," I said.

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  • The Path to Greatness/Chapter 3
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  • After debating the issue, I decided that visiting Krovesport was not beneficial. I had enough supplies to last far longer already, and venturing into a thieves' den was asking for trouble that I did not need to otherwise face. The knighthood might encourage members of the Order to be brave, but they definitely did not encourage them to be stupid. "Gulak dimargi," a melodic voice agreed, and I turned, somewhat startled to see an elven figure standing before me. "You are Sir Thorne, are you not?" "I am Thorne. The title is mine, but I prefer it not be employed." "Gulak dimargi," I said.
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  • After debating the issue, I decided that visiting Krovesport was not beneficial. I had enough supplies to last far longer already, and venturing into a thieves' den was asking for trouble that I did not need to otherwise face. The knighthood might encourage members of the Order to be brave, but they definitely did not encourage them to be stupid. Deciding it best to put some distance between myself and the thieves' city before sleeping, I pressed on well into the night. Finally, I stopped a few miles from the Crossroads and made my camp for the evening. After bedding my horse and eating a quick repast, I secured my perimeter and bedded down for the night. The night passed without event other than my dreams, which were unusually vivid. Which is not to say I recalled any details about them in the morning; I could just grasp the intense colors and sensations, but they quickly faded with the rising of the sun. Being fully replenished, my horse and I decided to make a direct cross across the grasslands and made quick work of the travel from the Crossroads through Farthwark Woods. By the time I came to the great clearing that marks the divide between Farthwark and the proper forest of Greenguard, I began to grow uneasy. I was familiar with these woods, having visited them many times in my many years of service to Lorithia. My goddess's work carried me into many situations and thus the situation raised many alarms. It was not so much a problem of things I saw or heard as it was a problem of what I did not experience. The area was far too silent for my liking. There was no signs of the normal midspring wildlife, no rustle of wind through the trees. While the sun was warm and bright in the blue sky, I was cold and chilled to my bones by a sense of growing foreboding. Regardless of my sense of unease, I had a job to do and fully intended to do it, so I crossed with deliberation into Greenguard and followed my directions into the village which was the home to Greenguard's Orcish population. I thought about this village in the midst of the great wood with sadness not for the first time. There was once I time where Greenguard's Orcish population was as diverse and as well represented as its elven denizens. Gulgin Dar was a small outpost village, but Greenguard had once been home to much larger populations. Unfortunately, time had not been kind to the Greenguard Orcs, mostly because of ancient and traditional enmities and prejudices. Greenguard had been a bastion of Orcish culture, but too many were willing to forget that fact in favor of the false illusion that the Orcs had no culture. "Gulak dimargi," I said, a mourning prayer in high Orcish, a language now more practiced by linguistic scholars and Orcish magi and shamans then by the general populace. As with most peoples, they had developed a sort of vulgar argot that adopted the languages of the cultures around them. For the Orcs of Greenguard, this was mostly Continental Common but with a smattering of Moglin and Elven besides. "Gulak dimargi," a melodic voice agreed, and I turned, somewhat startled to see an elven figure standing before me. "You are Sir Thorne, are you not?" "I am Thorne. The title is mine, but I prefer it not be employed." "As you will, then. I am Kendrel. Welcome to Greenguard." "Thank you. Though I must confess I know not why it would be an Elani who would greet me when those who seek my aid are members of the Ulgathi." "I can comprehend your unease, Lord Thorne," he said, and I inwardly shuddered at this even more inappropriate honorarium, "but I assure you I am here only because Margu has sent me as his emissary to aid you in finding the village." I considered this carefully. Margu was the chieftain of the Orcish village, this much I knew, but the idea that he would send an Elani, the elvenfolk, as his emissary was startling, though perhaps no more startling than the fact that the Ulgathi had called upon the Order's succor to begin with. To question Kendrel's authenticity would be an unforgivable breech of courtesy, so I merely accepted the oddity at face value, though I will confess to being a bit more vigilant then normal. I silently followed Kendrel into Gulgin Dar. A number of Ulgathi children saw my approach and sent up seemingly delighted cries of "Humie!" or "Nugaht!" as they ran though the city. Kendrel lead me into the chieftain's long house and I was startled to see several of the Ulgathi warriors issue a rather perfect imitation of a Elani ritual bow at his approach. "Margu," Kendrel said, approaching an elderly Orc who rested at the long table's head. "The humie has come as I promised he would." Kendrel's voice possessed such love and affection that I immediately felt immense guilt for suspecting that there was something amiss in the Elani's presence in Gulgin Dar. The weary elderly Orc looked up at Kendrel with a bemused expression half a smirk and half a smile. "I have not yet gone completely blind, Elf. I can see that." Kendrel laughed and, with a bow, turned to leave, but Margu placed his hand upon Kendrel's shoulder and drew him into a rather rough hug, a sign of affection common among the tribal peoples but somewhat rare among the Elani, who viewed love in more intellectual terms. However, far from seeming discomforted by the old Ulgathi's affection, Kendrel fiercely returned the gesture in true Orcish fashion. He gave deference to this orcish custom much as the orcs who greeted Kendrel gave deference to the elves' customs when he arrived. "Dubu meeb Elb frend! Fer lat hulp me pushdug sharkû," the orc said, and waved. "You're not that old," Kendrel laughed, and responded in Elani, quite deliberately not answering the first part of the declaration. Margu laughed aloud and slapped his knee. "Ug Der, Humie," Margu said after Kendrel had left. "Gulak dimargi," I said. "Gulak dimargi," he echoed, "but it is nub the fall of Greenguard I murn this day frend humie." "You switch between High Orcish, Low Orcish, Human, and even Elbai with some ease." "Dak'ye," he said using an alternate transliteration of thanks, one that was more light and flippant. "Kendrel suggested you called me." "Yes," Margu said pointedly. "He has had more dealings with your order. There are Elani in the order, in fact." "There are Ulgathi, too," I said considerately, "but not many, and none currently on this continent, so your point is well taken. "I must presume your need is great, Margu. What causes the Orcs of Greenguard to send for the Order of Lorithia?" "It is our children." "I beg your pardon?" "Our children, Humie.... They are disappearing in the dead of night and we neither see nor sense the enemy. Our mages and shamans can tell us nothing. Two dozen families already have lost loved ones to whatever monster is taking our children. We sought aid from Kendrel first, for he has long been a friend even though our kinds are traditionally at odds. Kendrel used his formidable skill at tracking, but he too found nothing. We are at a loss. We lose a child a night. At this rate, the Ulgathi will have no future in mere days." I considered Margu's words with solemn dread, a child stealer.... "Will you help us, Humie?" "There is no question of that, Margu," I said definitively. "It is both a privilege and an honor-bound duty to help your people. The question is merely where to begin."
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