The Firetooth Clan

The Price of Conquest

The thousand sounds and smells of war filled the air of the Firetooth camp: The hammering of steel, the bark of wargs, the crack of rifles, the scent of oil and camp rations and freshly-dug latrines. The vast army camp spread out across the northern plains, an entire city of pitched tents and half-dug trenches that rivaled the size of the one they were besieging. Orcs from the five different Clans went about preparing for war, united in the minor indignities of war. There was a sense of bitter violence in the camp ready to snap at a moment's notice, like the twine of a string under pull, or perhaps a fireplace doused in oil just waiting for a match. It hovered and whispered like the early autumn winds that blew through, and there was no question of its direction. All that fervor, all that bloody and honor bent toward the city of Gusko's Rest. 

"D'you think we'll... y'know..." Ergo Woodknife tilted his head at the city as he rested on his shovel, the moist dirt of the plains covering his clothing, mixing with sweat to make a thin, black paste of mud.

His companion shrugged and hefted a pile of dirt. "Not my problem. That's up to the Chiefs in their big tent."

"Yeah, but if you had to guess?"

"If I had to guess..." - Another shovel full of dirt flung through the air - "I'd say I'd rather get this over with instead of mucking around out here on the plains. It gets cold out here during the winter, and those giants have been said to be able to walk straight through a blizzard if it means killing someone. The Emperor's in that city; if we take it we could all go home tomorrow. That sounds a hell of a lot better to me than spending the next year or three and who knows how many battles before we win."

"I guess I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Of course you haven't." The older militia man stood up, resting his hands on his shovel. Instinctively he glanced over to make sure the Thane was nowhere around to critique his idleness. "Look Ergo, no offense but you're not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Don't you have a pair of eyes? Look where we're digging - not out toward the plains, but in toward the gates. I'll bet my own ass this will end up being an embankment for the cannons. And the food? D'you think the Thane just hands out a side of ham because he feels generous? Or how about those Jaggedfist gladiators we ran into? Remember when they were down south? For Aed's sake use your head once in a while."

Ergo blinked momentarily. If Worth hadn't been a friend and companion he would have taken bloody offense to the insult. But Worth had taken him under his wing when Ergo got called up, taught him the finer tricks of combat, kept him alive during skirmishes, even taught him the... less savory aspects of campaigning. Familiarity and friendship allowed them to breach lines of etiquette that would usually end with a fist in someone's eye. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It'll be my first real fight though. Not a skirmish or ambush or anything, a real battle."

"You'll do fine. You're well trained, you come from a good House - your dad taught you well. Fight hard, remember what you've been taught, follow orders. Trust me, despite lacking some facilities you won't be the one to dishonor your family's name. If you do find yourself confused or doubting, just look at your gun - that's the same gun your dad used, and your grandfather, all the way up to that great-great-grand you were telling me about who used it to pike a boar. It's not just you fighting with that thing, it's your entire House."

Ergo nodded. He spotted the Thane walk by and immediately started shoveling again.

"Worth."

"What?"

"Thanks."

The Firetooth Army had achieved the true heights of success. In the first year of the war, it had stormed through Southern Jaxtathrali , crossed the banks of the Johor River, and assaulted Gusko's Rest in a bloody but brilliant display of Orclander unity against the old giant foe. Yet the entry of the Holy Union into the war had tipped the war from assured victory into bloody stalemate. In two crushing back to back defeats first on the bloody Fields of Suvaneh and then through the burning streets of Gusko's Rest.

Now two and a half years later, the Orclander Army found itself almost identically back at where it started on the southern bank of the Johor River. It was a much different army that had come swaggering into Jaxtathrali province, one that was bloodied, humiliated, and growing increasingly frustrated with its leadership that had seen so many lives lost.

Much of the Orclander Army consisted of Firetooth militia, troops who had been expected to have fought for a year in the field, not three. While they remained at the front, fields went fallow and loved one's unattended all for the sacrifice of Greater Orcland. Thus, it was not a surprise when Orclander troops began deserting from the front.

The reprisals were harsh, dozens were executed, oftentimes by firing squads drawn the ranks of their own company. Yet when an entire regiment refused its rotation to the front, it set off a crisis within the army. Mutiny was in the air and the overall unity of the Allied army was threatened.

The Stonefoot blamed the Ironskull for the death of their Chief.

The Jaggedfist thought the Firetooth '' too soft ''. Why should they fight for the Ironskull land when they had been too weak to hold it?

The Ironskull blamed the other tribes for not committing enough resources for the offensive.

On the Council of Eldars, the failures of the war (and the failure at the negotiating table) was generating another battle of wills between the Eldars.

Only the elevation of Boarsplitter to that of a Martyr had kept the Stonefoot from withdrawing its forces and support for the war completely. Yet the Stonefoot were now advocating for a negotiated settlement, 'peace with honor'. Moreso, both the Jaggedfist and Stonefoot were now advocating for a change of leadership, the dismissal of Nortag Willowise, and the end of High Chief Artog Aedsword's role as overall commander of the Orclander forces.

The Stonefoot, backed by the Jaggedfist, had submitted their own name for commander in chief. General Torug Iron Hand, a respected veteran commander that was popular among the troops but importantly one that had publicly called for an end to the war. The dismissal of Artog was something that was unthinkable and while the two Great Clans lacked the votes to force the Council's hand, it did not mean they would go quietly.

The Eldar Council had arrived at an impasse, with the Stonefoot alongside the Jaggedfist declaring that they would continue to supply soldiers but ONLY for defensive operations to preserve the territory that the Orc's had already claimed. Furthermore, both the Jaggedfist and Stonefoot armies would not fall under High Chief Artog's direct command although would continue to cooperate in areas of defense when required.

EFFECTS
-- -1 Public Order from casualties. (will improve with victories or treaty)
-- The Jaggedfist and Stonefoot Armies have withdrawn from High Chief Artog's command and will no longer participate in any offensive actions although they will continue to defend all conquered territory in the south of Jaxtathrali province.
-- The Firetooth Army receives a moderate morale penalty for any offensive action launched within the next two turns.
-- Accai Boarsplitter, heir of the Stonefoot, has withdrawn from the frontlines back to Stonefoot lands.