CARAAMON: moved Tale of Two Clans, A (book) to Tale of Two Clans (book)

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	practically finalized. We know that she leaves [[the Crossing]] every third		practically finalized. We know that she leaves [[the Crossing]] every third
	week with a delivery of merchandise in the company of them dim-witted		week with a delivery of merchandise in the company of them dim-witted
	guards, stops off to see these horrible little Dwarves and then heads		guards, stops off to see these horrible little [[Dwarf\|Dwarves]] and then heads
	on over to [[Dirge]]."		on over to [[Dirge]]."

	Wetting his throat with more ale, he continued, "Now she's always hiring		Wetting his throat with more ale, he continued, "Now she's always hiring
	them hopeless ~~humans~~. We have managed to bribe a couple of them, but the		them hopeless [[human]]s. We have managed to bribe a couple of them, but the
	rest of them, well..they'll just be outnumbered."		rest of them, well..they'll just be outnumbered."

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	will come.		will come.

	[[Category:Book]]		[[Category:Book]][[page type is::book\| ]][[race association is::gor'tog\| ]]

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==A Tale of Two Clans (The Tiger and Knife Clans)==
-''Hagynn Atkyn''

They sat quietly in the corner of Sand Spit Tavern, both sipping quietly
and slowly from dark ales.

Trog looked around furtively, then reached over and tapped his younger
brother on the arm, "Well, this would be your first time with a raiding
party. Do you want to join us?"

Ortug sat quietly, peering into his ale, not daring to look up.
"Well, say something," demanded Trog.

"I don't think I'm ready and I'm not sure it's a good idea", blurted Ortug.

Trog rolled his eyes, "Look, you can't back out now. The plans are
practically finalized. We know that she leaves the Crossing every third
week with a delivery of merchandise in the company of them dim-witted
guards, stops off to see these horrible little Dwarves and then heads
on over to Dirge."

Wetting his throat with more ale, he continued, "Now she's always hiring
them hopeless humans. We have managed to bribe a couple of them, but the
rest of them, well..they'll just be outnumbered."

Trog chuckled and drank more ale. "So we'll grab the merchandise and sell
that. Then we'll ransom the human female for a hefty sum. That dolt of a
father must have the money to pay for her. Anyway, are you with us Ortug?"

"I'll think about it," came the sigh and the response.

Several hours and dark ales later and after much cajoling and rehashing of
plans (for planning is not a Gor'Tog forte), Ortug finally agreed to
participate in the raid.

"Good!" declared Trog, "Now don't forget your pigsticker!"

Someone standing a good several hours later in a dark alley close to the
tavern might have heard the following conversation.

"This ain't right Ortug, we're raiders, not ambushers. Time's right for a
change in leadership and direction."

"I know Havor, but the truth is I don't want to ambush or raid! I just
want to enjoy a peaceful life with Resomba. I'd rather be a farmer."

"Perhaps if the raid fails, Trog's leadership will be rethought. Well
I'll try and think of something...."

Two days later, the raiding party of the Knife Clan lay in wait along the
Northern Trade Route. Lacking the necessary patience to ambush, stalk or
wait long periods of time, the Gor'Togs frequently stood up and stretched.

"Get down you idiots!" hissed Trog. "The whole point of an ambush is not
to be seen!"

The wait was not a long one, a half day's ride out of the city, the wagons
carrying Suza Cormyn's wares gradually snaked over the incline and through
the valley.

"Be sure to wait for my signal", rasped Trog. The steady clunk-clunk of
the wagon wheels drew closer and closer. All of a sudden, Havor leapt up
with a shriek of "Kyeeaah!", brandished his heavy iron hammer and sprinted
down the hillside towards the wagons.

"Gaaa!" screamed Trog. "Havor, you dolt! I'll have your tongue for this!
Follow him!"

The twenty or so Gor'Togs leapt from hiding and pursued their rash
counterpart down the hill. The skirmish (for battle implies resistance
from the caravan guards) was all too brief. The few guards that chose to
fight were quickly introduced to either Havor's hammer or the favored
weapons of his brethren. Suza Cormyn and her wares were captured all too
easily.

A definite swagger in his walk and animation in his speech, Trog
proclaimed the ambush a superb success.

"We just got a couple of things to take care of first." On a nod from him,
several of the raiders grabbed and restrained Havor.

"You, you beserking madman have disobeyed me for the last time! I will
have your tongue. And I don't expect to ever see you again, unless you
want me to bury your hammer in your skull."

The shameless deed performed and Havor laid low with a crushing blow to
the head, the rest of the Gor'Togs left him to die and set about moving
the wagons off the trade route and into the woods. Ortug was entranced
by Suza.

"Don't just stand there gawking at the female, Ortug. Give us a hand!"
shouted Trog.

The goods from the wagons stripped and bundled up and Suza well bound, the
raiding party sought out a quiet spot in the woods to discuss their next
venture and start the tales exaggerating their exploits of the day.
Finding a large willow tree set in a clearing, they opened their skins
of wine and started to eat their bread and cheese. More than somewhat
flushed by his endeavors, Trog started trying to compose a song to capture
the day's events.

"We is Gor'Tog, we is mean.
We stole enough goods to outfit a queen.
When next..huh?"

Out of the surrounding woodside were charging six or seven tall barbarians,
the first of whom was carrying some sort bone. Ortug who had managed to
avoid combat in the initial skirmish, had seen and had enough. He threw
down his short sword and ran deeper into the woods. The battle between
the barbarians and Gor'Tog raiding party raged for twenty or so minutes,
by which time fifteen of the Gor'Tog had been slain, yet three of the tall
strangers still stood and fought. And how they fought! Trog, no longer
favoring the odds, had seen enough and followed the same route as his
brother.

The rest as they say is history, or rather local and recent history.
Ortug and Trog were the only ones from the Gor'Tog raiding party to escape
the carnage that day. Ortug was so appalled at the greed and blood lust
of his brother that he split from the Knife Clan, took several like
minded people with him and formed the Tiger Clan. He still maintains a
deep mistrust of Humans, but was so impressed with the wealth, power
and respectability that Suza displayed, that he set up the Tiger Clan to
trade with The Crossing. The clan provides produce from their
farmlands and items from their craftsmen. Ortug, his wife Resomba and
the recent addition to their family, son Grob, have become very wealthy
as a result.

For all of his failures, Trog still heads up the Knife Clan. Given the
lack of survivors on the fateful day, he was able to throw enough doubt
into the rumors that he had ran from the battlefield and hold onto his
leadership. Still believing that one of the Gor'Tog' greatest strengths
is their ability to bash things, Ortug has also organized a group of
guards that can be hired out for caravans.

And what of Havor? Wandering over the hills to that one small slope
where the milkweed grows, Neesa stumbled across a bleeding hulk lying in
the grass.

"Havor, is that you? Who did this?"

She set down her bag, looked at the plants and herbs that she had available
and started to treat his injuries.

"Havor, I need to find some snakeroot to stop any possible infection.
I'll be back as quickly as my legs will carry me."

Havor survived his dreadful wounds and joined the Tiger Clan. Although
he is now well established with a wonderful reputation as a blacksmith,
he has vowed (or in this case communicated through sign language) his
intense hatred for Trog and his personal desire for revenge. His day
will come.

[[Category:Book]]

Tale of Two Clans (book) - Revision history