The Guards of Galdenwyck [1-7]
Far to the south in the foothills of the Black Mountains, the orcish king, Grizzlemax, watched the sky intently. According to orcish legend, the coming of the 14 Guardians signaled the time when the orcs would rise up and take control of the great mountains which had been wrested from their control by the Dwarves centuries earlier. The words of Skizzlewix, the last orc to possess magic ability, were recorded on a stone tablet kept within the throne of the orcish king,
The coming of the 14 will seal the fate of the Dwarven race.
The Black Mountains will run with rivers of their blood and
The orcish race will once more rule the high mountains as they
did in the time of Avaximander. Watch for the 14 for they will
arrive swiftly on chariots of platinum with wheels of fire. When
the Fourteen Moons of Galdenwyck have disappeared from the
sky, the Dwarves will be no more.
Grizzlemax had referred to these words many times, always praying that this thing would happen during his reign. And now, if the signs were accurate, the prophecy would come to pass.
The coming of the Guards would also provide perfect cover for a covert sortie to the tomb of Werkingetorix, where the writings of Skizzlewix oft proclaimed the awesomely powerful spell book of Avaximander would be found. Grizzlemax recalled how excited he was the first time he read Tome CIV of Skizzlewix, affectionately known by the high orc council as “The Tomb Tome,” for it contained the Legend of Werkingetorix’s Tomb and an old map. Skizzlewix knew Werkingetorix well, being his obedient pupil, and the vivid descriptions were enough to make any orc dream of the past orcish glory.
He thumbed to the title page and read aloud the first few paragraphs to himself. It was from Skizzlewix’s earlier writings, which exhibited a certain ancient style.
“The dwarves will tell ye otherwisen. They will tell ye Werkingetorix never hath been, being half-orc, half-halfling, and half-kobold. Aye, some orcs themselves might tell ye he hath never existed. Maybe he hathn’t. But ye doth have physical proofth of his tomb!
“Ye Tomb of Werkingetorix lieth in the cemetery of Saksquash, the first magnanimous orc tyrant. Ye tomb itself hath magickal protections of all kindes. Many a many a wilde packrats hath missteppedd on the wrong stone inside, and sproinged the chain lightninge spell which doth doeth 20D6+1 damage! Only a skilled thief dare possesseth any chance! And once ye get yeself inside ye tomb, ne’er ye hath much chance of leaving! For Werkingetorix hath left behinde two Iron Golems, Klik und Klak, what guard entrance to his inner charnels! And, if ye manage to defeat these powerful Iron Golems, certaine death awaits ye once ye see the spellbuch of Avaximander, located under the deathly head of Werkingetorix, who bade it be his eternal pillow, for it hath explosive runes inscribed on its surface! Any attempt to read a rune doth doeth 4D10 damage, that is if ye makest ye saving throw vs. rods, staves, and wands! If ye fail, ye age 100 years immediately, and if this dost not kill ye from sudden systeme shock, ye delayed fireball o’erhead certainly will!”
The problem, as Grizzlemax saw it, was that orcs were mostly big, clumsy oafs. Even the daintiest orcish woman, even well-schooled in thievery, would stand no chance of making her way into the tomb, let alone make off with the spell book. The incompetence of the orcish race was one thing that drove Grizzlemax insane. They could fight damn well, but casting spells, turning the undead, finding traps and playing beautifully bawdy lays upon finely tuned banjos were things beyond the power of any modern orc. He had instituted strict training programs and paid thieves, clerics and magic-users large amounts of gold to try and teach the young orcs these skills, but it was to no avail. The last of the teachers, a bitter old druid, had left five years earlier in a fit of rage after discovering that none of his pupils could cure light wounds, even after practicing for 18 months.
Yes, these problems weighed heavily on the heart and mind of Grizzlemax as he gazed at the fading Morimuto and wondered when the already arrived Clavdia would make her appearance.
