The History of Clan Redblade
Mok'ra Orcs. The time has finally come to tell the story of the old Clan Redblade, This is the story of the legendary origins of the Red Blade Tribe and I hope it will inspire, interest and maybe even entertain a few of you. To save you from walls of text, I'm going to tell the tale in short and (hopefully) weekly parts.
Regards
Akesha
Part 1 – The Rise of Githya
Many, many lives ago on Dreanor, the world of our birth, there was a small but proud clan of orcs. The Ironfoot Clan they were called and in that time, their leader was Mugruk the Fat, Mugruk was a vicious orc, prone to violent rages, He was more feared than loved by his people. Yet, there was one of Mugruk's house that the people did love; a young warrior named Githya. He had a noble face and was a fine warrior, but he was perhaps a little too proud.
Now, the time came for the Ironfoot Clan to pay tribute to the Overlord of the Northern Clans. Swords, gold, luxurious furs; all were loaded onto wagons for the journey to the Overlord's Hall. A band of warriors was assembled to protect this valuable cargo and Githya, Mugruk's favourite, was made to lead them. They set off, but the wagons would never reach their destination.
In the hills north of the Ironfoot's lands, there were bandits. One sunset, as the wagons had stopped to make camp, these bandits attacked in overwhelming force. The Ironfoot warriors could not stand against such numbers and were killed, but the bandits spared the life of Githya, recognising that he was an orc of some importance. They took him prisoner and decided that they would ransom him back to his clan.
The first messenger sent by the bandits did not return. Mugruk flew into a rage on hearing his news and beheaded him on the spot. The second messenger found Mugruk in a better mood and returned to the bandits saying that Mugruk had offered a thousand pieces of gold for Githya's safe return. Mugruk expected that the riders he saw approaching his hall, some days later, would be Githya returning, but it was not. More messengers from the bandits had come and were taken to see the corpulent chieftain.
Somewhat nervously, they told him that one thousand pieces of gold was not enough and he must offer more. Mugruk went into a rage and beat his fists on his chair. The messengers were more than a little afraid, but when he calmed himself, Mugruk told them that he would offer two thousand pieces of gold. The bandits returned home with the message and their lives.
Four days later, six bandits rode up to Mugruk's hall and asked to see him. They knelt in respect before the feared chief and said that two thousand pieces of gold was not enough. They said that only five thousand pieces of gold was the equal to Githya's worth as a warrior. Mugruk was furious. He stood up and taking his chair, he smashed it into firewood and then beat the messengers to death with the legs.
Eventually he calmed and realised that he must pay or never see his favourite warrior again. So, he charged two of his soldiers with the task of taking the five thousand pieces of gold to the bandit camp. They rode north with heavy bags of coin, but when they arrived they found a strange thing indeed.
You see, these bandits had treated Githya as an honoured guest. Each evening he ate with their leader, Rorlug the Black. They would talk long into the night about battles and deeds of great heroes. When the messenger first returned with Mugruk's offer of one thousand coins, Rorlug considered this price. He thought it was not a bad offer. One thousand coins was a lot to bandits in those days, but Githya said,
“I hope you are not going to accept it.”“What's that?” asked Rorlug.
“Why should I not? It is a lot of money, more than we make in a whole summer of robbing merchants.”“I am worth more”, said Githya.
“In fact, I would take it as an insult if you thought that one thousand coins was a good price for me.”Rorlug pondered this a while and decided to send back more messengers. They returned with an offer of two thousand gold coins. This time Rorlug was happy to accept. Two thousand coins was a fortune and the bandits would all be rich. He went to tell Githya the news.
“If two thousand coins is a fortune to you, then you are in the wrong trade”, retorted Githya.
“What trade should I be in then?” asked Rorlug, growing slightly annoyed at Githya's arrogance.
“You risk you lives for poor rewards. You're hunted and hated by all the northern clans, for the scum that you are. Now calm yourself”, said Githya, seeing Rorlug's growing anger.
“Do you want riches and power? Then do what I ask.”And so it was, that when Mugruk's soldiers rode into Rorlug's camp, they were shown into a tent to find Githya and Rorlug sitting side by side, like comrades in arms.
“You have brought our gold?” asked Githya.
“Excellent. That will set us up nicely in our new trade.” He smiled broadly at Mugruk's warriors and said,
“I give you a new task now. Go tell all the chiefs of the north that I, Githya, have pacified the bandits of the hills. Tell them that they are bandits no longer. We are mercenaries now … and we are for hire.”
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