The Travels of Torntusk
A series of journal entries covering the exploration and adventures of Chieftain, Primal Torntusk of the Revantusk Tribe.
Day 1, The Journey Begins:
I am
Primal Torntusk, or more, I am now Chieftain Torntusk since my honored husband was struck low by Vilebranch ambushers.
Ours was an ceremonial marriage of politics and ritual rather than carnal creation or passion, but I cared for him well and weep at his passing. He had a steady hand with our people and a caring touch one who bears claws struggles to match.
Still, I did my best, for what time I could, but it was not enough, the Vilebranch are in a frenzy and the Witherbark are no help at all; Elves hunt us from the trees and Dwarves in the sky.
I can do nothing but lead us to our Warlord, our emperor Zul'jin's tribe and pray to the Loa he lived and would harbor us.
Day 35, The Final Day:
Our fortunes were fair and though the journey hard and the humans bearing arms as if to go to war their guard forces were slim and our steps subtle, we passed some orcs who proved fair companions, but would not bear to beg for charity of any even if it meant risking the camps.
We trekked through backwoods, mountain passes and deep forests that have never known the touch of an axe, the air suffused with primal power I could feel my inner beast bristling and bearing claws, only with hymns and songs did I ground myself and carry my tribe forward to our people's capital.
Day 40, Zul'Aman:
This place is on hard times, once a mighty temple city of trade ports and naval work, Zul'Aman is now the heartland of our kind and it is ailing. Once great apartments are cracked and crumbling, replaced with humbler houses woven into the tree line for safety. The temples live as homes and forts, but the food they gift is dull and bare.
The city heart, a center of bureaucracy and our heroes home shows the same signs of lost splendor; where once cracks in walls might have been touched with gold to show both the history but the resilience of the Amani, now were touched up with hasty plaster and dusty paint.
Still I felt the need to cheer, the Warlord lives!
His eye taken and his lost arm cursed to never return he holds the same majesty as ever and despite their hard times he welcomed us as guests, feeding and housing my tribe as though old friends and family.
Still I sense there is more at play here than I see.
Day 45, The Offer:
I suspected something was afoot but not this, and I am unsure how to feel, honored or shirked, nervous or excited, perhaps all of these and more? Great risks abound but so to do great opportunities I would think.
I should organize my thoughts.
Warlord Zul'jin took me and my advisors aside to make us an offer. He said his tribes morale had been low, as is to be expected and that he sought a way to raise their spirits and bolster them.
His plan?
To send a small fleet to the East seeking cousins across the sea on the the continent of Kalimdor, near lost to a myth among my tribe but well recorded in Amani almanacs as having been a sight of trade and exploration in ages past, and a home to the Farraki and Dark Troll tribes.
Why send us? Well, besides I am sure removing the strain my tribe might place on food stores, he spoke warmly to me and said that our comportment upon arrival bore truth to our reputation as affable souls and able speakers who would be ideal for engaging with out cousin tribes and any other people's we may meet. This goal of this is not to steal land or plunder after all, merely explore and seek camaraderie and new resources.
A dangerous quest to be sure, but he assured us the use of a fine fleet of ships crewed by his finest sailors and despite all that surrounds this offer, I know his faith is us, his hope for this mission is true.
Can I refuse?
Perhaps.
Should I refuse?
No.
Day 49, The Sea:
I understand now why my ancestors never took to the oceans.
It is not the sea serpents that harass us, or the Kraken that buffet us, or the storms that Shamans must duel with.
No, its the infernal rocking, its the lack of fruit, its the sickly taste of fish forever, I long for this voyage to be over and to never look upon another fish ever again.
Day 56, Land:
Jubilation that we had found land turned to carefully guarded disappointment when the wisdom of Shamans and the eyes of bat riders returned word of a dusty and ruinous place of dried earth and bone.
And yet, we pushed on, the cryptic words of priests begging us to stay by the rough coastline and why soon became clear.
For not only did we finally find something more than dust and rock, but instead a delicate but blooming line of green coast, but also we did find people, unknown to us, they bore the lower quarters of a horse, but the upper bodies akin to strange humans and by their small camp and waving it was clear we were expected.
Let this be a lesson, the Loa are wise and their priests words to be heeded.
Day 58, Uthek the Wise:
These people, the Centaur, are rough and harsh to be sure, but Uthek the Wise, the leader of this camp and second only to her clans Khan is both wise and powerful.
It was her powerful visions that brought her to the coast and expedited the study of language so that now she and my Speaker can chat fluently in either language, I am still learning.
Despite the cultural and language barriers, Uthek is well versed in the making of deals and treaties, arts not lost to us, and so I am hopeful for for the coming meetings.
Day 60, The Gelkis:
Success, small and humble though it may be, for we have struck an acceptable accord, I hope this spells good tidings for our efforts to come!
As of now the oft despised coast of the Gelkis territory shall be loaned to we of the Amani Empire to build upon it and live as we please provided a humble price of purified water and fish is paid to bolster the Gelkis's own stocks.
This matter is simple enough and serves as a groundwork for future trade and accords, for while the Gelkis are distracted by rivalries abroad, they are not bereft of curiosity or intrigue in the wider world. Already, Navarch
Kazra'jin thinks of their speed on the open planes and versatility in warfare, while I am more interested in their enchanted tool and bound Elementals for protection and labor.
There is much more they have to offer of course, new gems unlike any I have seen before, unfamiliar but potent elixirs as well as furs and spices gathered from ranging broad and they too are interested in our metals, woods and untold spices. But with the resting season drawing to a close and word needing to be sent back to Zul'jin to ratify our accords, future trade will need to be orchestrated by the Amani's Speaker come the next season.
Day 66, Feralas:
We were told by the Gelkis of a forest to the South.
To them it is a haunted place all Centaur fear to tread for a war was once waged there where upon their ancestors were so brutally eliminated that only one messenger for each tribe survived. It is a thick, shady and overgrown place stalked by hunters and spirits alike.
All in all in sounded lovely.
Thus leaving a detachment on the coast of Desolace at our new settlement of Kazra-Kis, we sailed South for many days and nights, eventually spying long reeds and branches hanging from looming mountains, hinting at the forests above. We saw signs of habitation in the form of net traps and nests but even though I had us wait a day and night none arrived to use them, perhaps abandoned or merely sensibly wary of interlopers such as we?
In the end, I was overjoyed to find us land upon an island, one of great size and splendor neighbored by another even longer island housing mighty twin headed beasts of lightning and fangs.
At first I felt dread, spying buildings, but days and days of scouting found not only no inhabitants but no signs of inhabitation in centuries. The gnarled wood of warped trees was home only to mindless beasts and dust, and so with some trepidation we moved in, cleaning, repairing and constructing new homes from the local timber that was notably humbled than the gargantuan trees we could spy from the looming forests.
It is with great pride I am using a parting gift offered to me by Zul'jin and dubbing this new island to be Revantusk Island, our humble port city shall still need to bear a name in the future. Some have honored me by suggesting my own name but we shall see, I feel we should perhaps honor a Loa with a name, no? Such fortune we behold this day.
Day 69, Harpies:
Nice is not a word I would use to describe our first forays onto the coastline.
Towering Sea Giants bereft now of the speech they once possessed attacked and tried to eat us and had to be fought off and things did not improve from there as cagey beasts proved challenging prey in the overgrown forests and many plants stranger still.
We were fortunate enough to find a road, still infused with magic it has survived millennia but was clearly underused, it made travel simple but any steps off the road could lead to danger from flying serpents or warped mountain giants and the odd green dragon whelp covered in pustules and belching sickening, acidic gruel upon us in a bid to slay.
I was beginning to fear some truth to the idea that these woods were haunted rather than merely dangerous, the Shamans still speak ill of a place to the North our new friends know as the Dragon Grove.
But who are these new friends? Why the Northspring Harpies.
Nice, again is perhaps not the right word for them, they are fiercely territorial and competitive hunters, but they have made some trade with the Gelkis in ages past for magical trinkets (Uthek had alluded to them but I do not believe she expected us to make it this far.) and while wary, the tried and true method of placing an offering of food, water and gifts near where we sighted one of their kin and retreating to let them claim it proved sufficient to prove our good graces.
The Harpies are a strange lot, terribly small one would be forgiven for assuming them delicate, especially when carried on vibrant wings of blue, pink and purple, but their small frames and light bones bely fiercely powerful muscles, spiked teeth and giant talons. They show skill as Shamans but I saw nothing divine in their magic, instead they turn to the arts so beloved by Elves and humans, the arcane, as was explained by our resident
Amani'shi Flame Caster, Tal'Sha.
Given their sharp but delicate features and angled ears one might mistake the Harpy for some manner of elf, but when the matter was broached they express no small amount of scorn for any people's bearing such a name, citing raids in ages past and calamities of which we Amani have records to know are true but are mere myth to the flying folk.
I must wrap this entry up, but I would be remis not to mention their mistress,
Edana, or as she is known when at war, Hatetalon.
An above average sized Harpy, she bears crimson feathers and is of notable age being over a hundred years old and personally recalls dueling with a smatter of surviving elven like 'creatures' hailing from a distant ruined city, earning her rank as queen from these battles. She shows great skill in the realms of arcane magic and is intrigued by our efforts and potential trade.
As usual, Kazra'Jin is reflecting on their versatility on the battlefield, he really is a boring troll.
Day 106, Ogres:
Navarch Kazra'Jin is dead.
He fell in battle while joining us on an excursion to meet with the mysterious Tauren we had heard so much about.
Instead he and his party were assailed by a band of purple and blue skinned ogres in rough armor and bearing demonic magics; the fighting was fierce, but many were captured and some killed, Kazra'Jin died ensuring those in the back could escape, I am mournful I did not know this side of him before he lay dead and his body lost to us, denying event he chance as resurrection.
Word has been sent to the Warlord that our areal scouts have determined the Ogres spread deep into the forests of Feralas, we must arrange a rescue mission before this however!
Day 150, Slavery:
Our efforts to gauge the Ogre threat and save our kindred bore some fruit, less though than I would like as the Gordunni continue to ravenously expand across the forests, even the Northspring tell of dueling them on occasion.
The motive for their raiding and captures?
Slavery.
Those captured are forced to fight in arena, or serve their Ogre masters as laborers in a hidden city, and if they do not, they are eaten alive.
We saved a small band of our own captured souls, but only half that were taken, the rest are dead or beyond our
rea
Day 152, Tauren:
We were fortunate that we had saved not only some of our kin, but some among the locals as well, including a beloved Tauren Shaman who was able to guide as through the woods after the Gordunni found our camp, leading us to her kindred deeper in the woods.
Her people have lived here for generations, after having been chased from Desolace after a terrible magical tragedy turned it into such and bore the Centaur down upon them as a punishment and curse. (
I did not mention our trade with the Gelkis, nor will I inform the Gelkis of theTauren's interpriation of their existance.)
Since then several Tauren tribes have lived in the shadows of elven ruins and looming forests, hunting, foraging and living peacefully, save for the occasional duels with Harpy, Yeti and Gnoll over hunting ground, but rarely did this last long.
The Tauren have suffered much since the Ogres arrival nearly a year ago, telling tale of how they bled in from across the mountains to pillage and plunder, driving the tribes from their favored homes and further South where tainted whispers buzz on the air and Gnolls hunt freely.
I promise them our aid, I only hope it will be enough.
Day 298, War:
It is official, Torntusk Town is now the TornTusk outpost and the main staging ground for our efforts against the Gordunni Ogres.
We hold the coast, have forces stationed at Ravenwind and Sky Riders in the South East supporting the Tauren, but for now we are merely holding firm, too many warships leaving Amani territory would alert the Elves or Alliance surely and we cannot have that.
I have made efforts to build bridges with the Northspring, Gnoll and Tauren tribes but it has proven... Difficult.
While the crimes against one another are not horrific in nature, they are petty, numerous and built across generations, and furthermore, food is still a battle to come by and even our fishing trawlers can only do so much. The Gelkis meanwhile have little interest in aiding us for now, save trading scrolls to summon Elementals, though those are proving their worth.
Day 310, Confusion:
I am at a loss to explain how the Ogres sustain themselves, they destroy the environment, hunt carelessly and even their pig arms should not be able to sustain so many.
What's more, they seem strangely driven, even in contrast to their past raiding, why I am not sure.
Day 310, Changing Tides:
We have some hope, a Gordunni traitor,
Karrga, has turned on her kin after the elite of her people, the Gordok, slew her father to have him as a meal and she has informed us a cabal of goat legged demon worshippers have emboldened King Gordok, they age stolen 'Kodo' beasts into adulthood to bolster food stocks and advise the king in his war.
But she has also told us that if the king is defeated in a duel, her people shall follow anyone who proves themselves worthy of being king, but it must be a martial trial, which is why the Ogres beat to death the Satyr princeling that tried to supplant King Gordok some months ago.
Still, King Gordok is said to be a fierce foe, our local allies leaders are all dabblers in magic or spirits first and foremost, and my own Primal powers would disqualify myself as well, but this gives us a chance to end this war in one strike, a single challenge, one duel.
Day 323, The Warlords Arrival:
Warlord Zul'jin has arrived, I was not told of this, no one was, for he did not arrive by ship but instead in the newly refurbished City state of Ravenwind, home of the Northspring Harpy.
According to his own words, his Hex Lord and Edana had been trading tips and tricks and with some effort had created a temporary gateway between Zul'Aman and Ravenwind that carried our warlord to us in an instant, it can only be used sparingly for now, but this is a joyous day indeed!
Day 330, The Plan:
Tomorrow we set out on our mission, Northspring Haries and Amani assassins shall scour the city assassinating any Satyr we find while Warlord Zul'jin shall make his way into the city to challenge King Gordok for the crown, if we both succeed, this war shall end in a single day.
I only hope he can win this fight.
Day 330, Deadly Duels:
The Satyr's leader has created a monster of tree and burning crystal it begs for death but rages to slaughter and kill, it is coming for us, this may be my last entry.
Day 332, Wars End:
I survived, though battered and sore it was my claws that ripped asunder the princes throat and the efforts of our Tauren allies and skilled Shaman that purified Ironbark, bringing the gargantuan ancient to our side.
Meanwhile Warlord, or should I say Emperor, Zul'jin dueled King Gordok, allegedly trouncing the brutish ogre with ferocity and piercing strikes before ending his life as an offering to Ula'Tek, empowering his voice to echo across the city.
Soon enough all knew of his victory as the chants of "Zul'jin" shook the foundations, now we simply must stay in control.
Day 335, Peace?:
This has been more hard won than I'd like to admit, but easier than we had any right to suspect.
As his first orders, Zul'jin freed the captured slaves and put the Gordok and Gordunni to work using their magic in tandem with our own to banisheor capture the spirits haunting this city.
Soon enough we found great obelisks of arcane power and the demon contained within and the Elves who lived in a fortified bunker below, having slaughtered their own kin to retain power, when the demon was banished they tried to slay us or flee, both efforts failed. Now imprisoned in acceptable quarters these strange Night Elves will be serving out their sentences helping us secure and maintain their once mighty city, those who surrendered or rose up against their mad prince have been granted clemency but refuse to leave and will be helping us master the obelisks and study arcane magic. I cannot day they are happy, but there is a palpable sense of relief to no longer be ruled by a monster.
We had some trouble in trying to secure peace, even with moving the Ogre tribes nearly entirely into the city, we've had some rebel elements among the Ogres rise up. This was more helpful than I'd like to admit as it means less Ogres to feed, as even with fishing, hunting, trade, magic and new farms things shall most assuredly be touch and go for a few years. Ironbark has promised us some aid in this at least and I have heard word of people from a place called Razorfen known to be skilled farmers that mayhaps we can trade with.
Still, Dire Maul is now keeping the Ogres from ruining the forest and soon the chosen Queen Karrga will ensure Zul'jin need not remain here at all times to manage them.
Some measure of permanent peace has been secured between the local tribes, once again the the Tauren returned to their traditional homes and with our farms and fishing the harpies have little need to hunt. Word from the Gnoll tribes does tell us of disturbing problems in the mountains and deserts to the South but that shall wait for another day.
Meanwhile, we have been gifted control over the Frayfeather Highlands in the High Wilderness, the local Hypogryphs, while not as fierce as the Chimera on the Isles of Lightning, they are more numerous and are of fairer temperament; they shall make running messages and aerial scouting a simple matter. We have claimed the central temple for the Loa, much to their amusement is seems, and work to turn the nearby hills and woods into sustainable farmlands and rice plantations to sustain ourselves and our allies.
Meanwhile, new explorers shall continue the mission we set out on, travelling into the Thousand Needles and deserts of Tanaris.
Others will fly over the mountains to finally peak the pristine fields of Mulgore and the vast savanna of the Barrens.
All while ships shall traipse South and Northward to spy any potential lands or people we might have missed, and to assess the near mythical thread of the Insect Gods.
I pray for all of them.
But for now, I shall place down my ink and brush and turn my attention to this thriving city I call home and am honored to lead, in but a few months there shall be a ceremony to commemorate our arrival, celebrate new friends and honor those lost along the way.
May all who have fallen know pride, may all who have survived this know joy, and may our descendants know prosperity in the Amani Empire.
Notes:
I took some minor details from the Travelogue series for this and expanded upon my own headcanons and some old ideas I've been toying with, gotta say this is a very efficient style of storytelling, but please tell me your thoughts!