The morning sun had yet to climb above the horizon to make its way in to the sky to mark the coming of day. Out in the sea a great longship floated in the still waters. A great white blanket of fog billowed across the sea surrounding the ship giving the impression that the boat was floating among the clouds.
"Curse this damn mist" The orc growled.
"It is unnatural how this fog came upon us so quickly my chief" Tau muttered in a gruff voice.
"Do you feel that Tau? The wind has dropped. I do not want to lose my quarry this day." Thrangzaal slammed his fist down upon the deck rail. "Oars and make haste" He roared.
Tau turned and bellowed out across the deck "Drummer double time!".
With efficient precision of seasoned ocean raiders the orcs lining either side of the ship drew forth the 18 foot wooden oars and set them to the calm waters. Garick, a 10 foot tall ogre with grey mottled skin and only one eye, scratched the empty socket where his other would have been, then took his position behind the large drum to the rear of the ship. With powerful strokes he began to rhythmically beat the thigh bones on the stretched pigskin covered barrel.
It was only moments before the great orc raider was steadily plowing through the calmed sea. The ships timbers creaked under the sudden motion. From a distance the longship took the appearance of a skeletal dragons ribcage with the strong timber bracing around the hull ending with spiked tips in defiance of the sky. With sail stowed due to the strange lack of wind the ships mast looked like the spear that killed the dragon.
As the sun reached its zenith in the sky the morning mist began to recede.
"Warcheif, we are clearing the mists"Tau turned to his leader who seemed to be preoccupied with scanning the horizon."Thrang?"
"Yes I heard you Tau"
There was a short moment of silence between them. All that could be heard was the constant beating of the drum and the splashes of the strong oar strokes through the sea waters. Tau was about to speak again. He had noticed Thrangzaal had been unusually quiet lately. The minotaur had been in the service of the warcheif for 26 years and was considered to be the orc warlords closest aide and friend. Possibly his only friend. From the outset of this voyage he had slowly noticed a change in the orc, though what it was he could not figure.
Thrangzaal had caught his 'second in command's' concerned look but chose to ignore it. He was in no mood to be talking now and returned to scanning the horizon. With his back now turned to the minotaur the orc allowed himslef an inward sigh. Seven years at sea was beginning to tire him and he was not getting any younger. Thrangzaal allowed himself a little chuckle as he remembered saying as a young orc growing up in the clans. "I will only accept becoming old once I have more broken teeth than not". That day had passed two years ago when he led his raiders in an assault on what they believed to be a simple merchant trawler. The ship happened to contain an armed regiment of soldiers sent to protect the valuable personal effects of some human dignitary. Unconsiously Thrang's finger poked the shattered tooth that had been smashed from the shield blow to his face that day. He had relished killing that human. At least the 'oomie' was sporting and fought for his skull compared to most crews of the ships they raided.
He no longer wished for a life at sea. Thrang more than anything wanted to return to his glory days when he had managed to craftily subvert his way in to leadership of the clan. The orc did not take the leadership in the usual manner, by sheer brute force. Thrangzaal was not weak by orcish standards but he was not as agile and skilled in arms as his warrior caste brethren. His strength lied in his mind which for an orc was exceptionally keen and sharp. Many a battle had been won in the orc tribes favour due to his tactical thinking and organisation when he advised the previous clan cheiftain.
It was in one such battle that he had sprung his trap leaving the warcheif in a dangerous exposed position. To cover his treachery he was one of the first to spot the cheif and his bodyguards, being overwhelmed by the human knights and rush to his aid. It was a dangerous act which could have cost him his life as well but it paid off. With the cheiftains death Thrangzaal rallied support and assumed the leadership he coveted. Being distrustful in his nature and not wishing to have his position threatened by orcs in his clan loyal to the old cheif he appointed minotaurs as his bodyguards.
One such bodyguard named Tau gained his respect and trust over the years after, on more than one occasion, singlehandedly saving his life. Tau was eventually promoted to his second in command effectively securing Thrang's position as warcheif. The orc knew that the minotaur had no wish to assume leadership of an orcish clan. Life had been good then for Thrangzaal until the coming of the great war and the blood feud.
It had been 8 summers ago when Thrang and his warriors returned from battling the human army of Elngarias to find their home at war.
The Horde had come to his homeland.
Battle raged for almost an entire year and it was the first time that Thrangzaal had to taste the bitterness of defeat. The clan was decimated. Thrang witnessed first hand the sheer ferocity and brutality of the most fearsome blackorc army ever assembled. The orc females and children of his clan were butchered along with the males as they fought for their home. Retreat was the only option left and it was the hardest decision Thrang had to make as fleeing in the face of an enemy is not in any orcs nature. He justified this by saying that he would have his vengeance upon The Horde.
Thrangzaal turned around upon the deck of his ship to face the orcs who survived that dreadful time. He looked at those rowing, recognising faces who had stood by his side during the war. The warcheif absentmindedly scratched the large scar that ran across his forearm which brought back the painful memories of the blood feud.
The orc cheifain had an older brother who was under the tutoring of the clan shamen before the war. His brother never approved of Thrang's campaign against the humans of Elngarias. He had on numerous occasions stated the campaign would bring ruin to the clan, then came The Horde. The clans shamen had died during one of the battles and Thrang's brother had never forgiven him for the death of his master and tutor. He had blamed Thrangs actions for the coming of The Horde.
In the final retreating battle Thrangzaal became seriously injured by the swinging razor edged waraxe of a horde champion. The force of the blow had knocked Thrang prone to the floor. There he would have died as the champion stood over him to deal the death stroke. Were it not for Tau to roar and impale the blackorc from behind on his massive horns whilst tossing his aside Thrangs life would have ended there. The shamen in training, Thrangzaals brother, had refused to heal him and wanted nothing more to do with the warcheif. The brothers left each other that day and had not seen or spoken to one another since.
Thrangzaal was thinking that day over again when he realised that Tau had called his name again.
"What is it Tau?"
"The scout in the eaglenest says he has spotted something ahead on the horizon to the southwest."
Thrang turned to the prow of the bridge and focused in that direction squinting his eyes. He had no need for the looking glass of farseeing that Tau used as his eyesight was second only to the scout atop the mast in his eaglenest. Catching a flash of the great red sails a grin crept accross the orc cheiftains face exposing most of his cracked yellowing teeth.
"There she is Tau" Thrang said with undisguised glee
Turning towards the rowing orcs the cheiftain stood proud and firmly planted his hands on the bridge railing. A rush of wind blew in to Thrangzaals face.
"Fortune smiles on us this day lads. The blood god has sent us a favourable wind and we have sight of our quarry. We will have them by nightfall" He bellowed.
A loud discordant cheer arose from the orcs. Tau started to chant an old orcish warsong and the rest of the orcs quickly joined in. Their rowing pace quickened to match the wind in the unfurled sails with the anticipation of the coming raid.
Thrangzaal turned back to the prow to stare at the ship they were gaining on. Thinking to himself "Life is good afterall." little did he notice the large storm cluds gathering behind him.
The sun was setting to the right of the two racing ships heralding the coming of night and as darkness came it brought with it the rain. Great waves washed over the deck of the orcs rading longship. The sea showed its anger at the storm overhead by becoming choppy and violent, constrating the calmness of the morning. Strong winds howled around both of the vessels. This increased the noise of the ringing din as rain drops splashed off the metal armour and weapons of the orcs. The sky lit up as lightning streaked across the sky.
"Prepare the boarding lines." Thrang had to raor at the top of his voice to be heard above the cacoffony.
Each of the orcs closest to the starboard side of the ship held a large grappling hook attached to a long length of rope. They began whirling the hooks in a circular motion above their heads as the two ships drew side by side.
Shouting his warcry Thrang watched the hooks soar through the air to land on the merchant ship. With the lines secured the orcs began to swarm on to the deck of the opposing ship. As he jumped aboard the other ship Thrangzaal was momentarily surprised at the determination of the human sailors he the orcs faced.
The merchant ship was larger than he had originally anticipated. A clipper class ship with a human crew of roughly 200 men. The orcish raiders only numbered 54 including Tau and the ogre Garick. Though outnumbered almost 4 to 1 the orcs were all expert warriors and were confident that they were more than a match for these 'puny oomies'.
Landing on the deck with a resounding thud Thrangzaal ducked under a vicious sweeping arc of a sailors sabre. Using his own blade to block and turnaside the stab from a second assailant Thrang grabbed the first attacker by the neck. With an almighty crack he headbutted the sailor who crumpled to the floor from the blow. The orc cheiftain turned on the second sailor when at that moment there was a blinging flash. Dazed by the light he could not block his attackers next strike in time. A large deep gash opened across the orcs thigh. Enraged by the injury Thrangzaal roared at the sailor. His cry was drowned out though by th deafening boom of thunder that followed the lightning strike. Angered even further that his cry, ruined by the thunder, did not have the desired effect on the sailor Thrang gave a mighty swing on his blade that removed the sailors head from his shoulders.
"Cheiftain!" an orc close to the injured Thrang pointed towards Tau.
Thrang caught what he thought the minotaur shout "The main mast had been struck." Looking at the centre mast Thrangzaal realised it had indeed been struck by the lightning. Time at that moment seemed to slow for all aboard the clipper. The melee that had been waging on the deck ceased as human, orc, minotaur and ogre alike stopped to stare at the great mast. The mast began to sway in the wind. With a snapping groaning sound of a mightly forest tree toppling the mast came crashing down. Ropes, rigging and sail canvas whipped across the deck hurling many sailors and raiders to the sea. Horrified and stunned to silence many stood rooted to the spot watching the mast smash a great tear down the port side of the clipper. The massive reinforced wooden beam continued its destructive descent as the tip of the mast punched a great hole in the hull of the orc longboat. Both ships were now physically trapped together, sqewered by the clippers main mast and both ships were taking on water... fast.
Thrangzaal could see the human captain ordering his men to abandon the clipper when Tau rushed to his side looking expectantly.
"Cheiftain, the ships are locked together by the mast and both hulls are breached."
"I can see that." Thrang said acidly through clenched teeth.
He smashed his mailed fist into the clipper mizzen mast.
"The sea gods have cursed me this day. First the mist then this." Thrang growled to himself.
Looking once again to the minotaur then to the raiders ashen faces Thrangs bellowing voice rang out.
"Metal off lads unless you want to visit the sea bed. Then get as far from the ships as possible so they dont suck you under."
Glancing across to the clippers bridge he saw the human captain defiantly standing at his command spot at the ships helm. The human was going to go down with his ship. Thrangzaal had never understood humans properly. He gave the human a wink and wicked grin before leaping over the ships rail.
The orc cheiftain hit the water with a loud splash. Resurfacing in the stormy waters Thrang swam towards a floating piece of timber , grasped it and continued to swim until he thought his lungs would burst. Exhausted he looked back to watch the orc longship that had been his home for the past 7 years sink beneath the sea. Dizzy and weak due to blood loss from the thigh wound Thrangzaal slipped from conscious.
At not too distant shores on the eastern coastline of the former kingdom named Northerot the dawn sun crept in to view. Two figures stood on the reedy sand dunes discussing the recent events that have occured in their land. Little did they know that just out of sight behind some rocks up the beach an orc lay washed ashore in the samd. This orc had a fresh gash in his thigh and with a weak ragged gasp for air the orc returned to consciousness.
The Foretelling
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