Two orcs tumble down the Rabbit hole... and to Wonderland

[Gruk]

The sun is coming up in Thar, also known as the Great Gray Land, a rocky, broken moor stretching for hundreds of miles. Its the middle of winter and the wind blows steadily. Two young orcs lay face down in the frozen mud of the tundra near a large encampement...

-Its cold , im tired lets go home , with any luck there is going to be some meat left , warm meat.

-Wait , its almost time after the night of feasting , they are about to change guards and the new ones who been up all night will fall asleep as soon as they get to their post.

Valk looks at the guard with determination. He is cold to and can barely feel his feet anymore but his will is strong , and he has much to proove. Only a couple of days ago he received the mark, that means he is a prospect to become a shaman , speaker of the one eyed. A title equal in prestige only by the elders, the shamans are pillars of orcish tribal society, the honnor is great , the burden immense, he must now proove his worth to all and behond doubt. He must do somthing , somthing of consequence. but Gruk is restless and soon pressures Valk again.

- I dont see it , are you sure the warcheif's war drum is up there ? i think i see the drumstick ...

- Yes its there , that stick has taken the Skullsmashers on the warpath for years , Gruumsh will be most impressed.

- Forget Gruumsh ! its the elder and the shamans you have to impress , lets just find another stick and go home , they'll never know the difference.

- I will know , Gruumsh will know.

Valk answered with a tone that left no room for argument. But what if Gruk was right , did anyone ever go that far for a stupid initiation ritual , sneaking in the Skullsmasher's territory , go to the hearth of the tribe , spend the night dodging patrols to end up frozen stiff hiding in the muk and the sun coming up on top of them. If they get caught , theres no telling what they'll do. Kill them no doubt , but after how many hours of brutal torture ? The skullsmasher ogres who live in the center of the Thar they are powerfull and feared by all, how was he going to get out of this .

-Fine lets get you're stupid stick and go home then, before this mud becomes our tomb.

Gruk gets up , he to spoke of a tone that left no room for argument , he is cold and tired and had enough , nothing will calm him now. But faith of the gods or plain luck , Gruk gets up at the same time the ogre on patrol goes to look for his replacement who failed to releive him. Gruk makes a few steps out of his mud hole with confidence , then the enormity of what he's doing strikes him and he skulks down , changing his pace to a sneakier one , like thats going to help now. How did he end up there in the first place ? Oh yeah , Valk told him he needed his help for somthing important and came asking with wine. the finer points of the mission were obscur but after the second wine skin , he was ready to do anything. Damn Valck , he knew him to well.

Valck watches Gruk sneak into camp , h'es never been the hunter type , since the begening his brother Gruk always had been the one shooting birds with his bow or empaling boars with a spear. He wasn't much for hunting but he could tell the passing seasons and predict where and when to find good hunting game. Between his wits and Gruk's spunk they quickly became the most efficient hunters in the tribe , working as a pair they brought more meat home then the veteran hunters pack last season, and the pack were five hunters strong. But for now he had done the plan , he had made his prayers and preperations, all he could do is watch and wait.

Gruk steps become lighter and steadier as he comes in the camp , he passes a fuming pile of what looks like grinded bones and fecal matter , orgres sure arent picky as to where their garbages end up , steping over he slips pass the half dug holes making the walls for the ogre's skin tents. Not a sound in camp , he sees the the drum stick , it rolled on the side and lays behind a sleeping orgre the size of a troll. Gruk locks in and circles around to get his target , he reaches for it and grabs it , the wood is warm and heavy and tickles his hands , the feeling is strange but no time to dwell on that.

Valk gets up suddenly as Gruk comes running, hes got it ! Discretion is over in two bounce they are flying across the tundra. They hear the war drums echo behind them , the ogres roaring , the quiet camp awakes in a furious chaotic brawl. The young brothers laugh, they are gray orcs , fast and endurant no ogre could ever hope to catch up with them at this point , in less then half a day of running the ogres can never hope to find wich tribe of the Thar they are from, they have succeeded.

After a day of sneaking and running , they come home to their tribe. They tell their saga and are aclaimed heroes , Gruk cant help but to exagerate , but the story is vivid and the tribe entertained. Valk is sacred shaman , a feast is thrown and the young brothers fall asleep after many hours or merry drinking.

-Wake up , wake up you fools !!! the shaman sounded the alarm , we hear the orgre's drum , they have taken the warpath !

Gruk wakes up first, he always could handle the wine better then Valck, quick on his feet he pulls Valck up , the shaman is furious . The drum stick is magical , part of the drum set he explains , the ogres are using the rest of it to find them, scry them out with their dreadfull hags . In less time then it took Gruk to wake up , the brothers are pushed out of the village. '' get rid of the stick '' he said '' take it far from here '' he added. Valk vomits on his boots, this is going to be a long day. luckily , Valk remebered a deep tear in the ground south , near the old citadel of Xul Jarak , it said theres passages there that go all the way in the under dark. Surely dumping that cursed stick there will do the trick , imposible to trace it back to them. Half a day passes and as they get closer a terrible earthquake shook heaven and earth and the brothers fell to the darkness...

The followings days came and went as if through a midst , clouded by mystery. When they woke up they were prisoners with large collars around the neck. Litle Tarnakukk hoarding them along with other orcs , gnomes and races they'd never seen before. Driven into an undeground city of twinkling lights , they were sold on a slave market. They are told they belong to Sarmathh , Gruk spits in the face of someone and spends the next days uncounsious. Taken from their cells , they are brought to a Drow of much imfluence their told , and they are to perfom a great service for him. Simply enough they are to lead the way into a fiery cave , and when they see a serpent creature of fire, a Salamander , offer him a gift neatly wrapped. Seemingly simple enough , the brothers accept to do this and anything else just to be fed. The drow smiles , waves to another folowing him and vanishes. They are fed , the drow kept his word for what it cost him. Escorted to the caves and a lake of fire the young orcs pups keep their head down and waits for a chance to make a run for it. Chance comes in all forms.


- FOR HELM !! ! attack !!! evryone attack !!!

The old captain roars , they had been waiting a long time , the trap is sprung , a drow contingent , on a diplomatic mission baring gifts and slaves , better then he expected. Waging war against the underdak all his life , this old paladin has an exeplementary crew , and the ambush is executed flawlessly. He's pushed his luck and he knows it , two days down there , now that convoy , a prime target of opportunity. Just what his crew needed , he prays gratefully when the battle ends, until a familiar voice disturbs his meditation.

- Sir , we've rounded up the valuables , dumped the bodies in the fire river and are ready to head back to the surface, but ....

- But ? speak your mind lieutenant we shouldn't linger here.

-The prisonners sir , these orcs , what would you have me do with them , that vicious looking one there tried to bite me when i approached.

The old man takes but a look , he's not fond of executions , leaving them here is as good as leaving them for dead after what happened , besides he cant take the risk having them alert the drows of his prescence and location. His men wont like it but he has made up his mind.

- Round them up , use force if necessary but dont kill them , not unless we have to , were taking them up.

- To the surface sir ? but sir , they're ... orcs

- I know very well what they are , you have you're orders Lieutenant , carry on.

From there , Gruk and Valk had a confused afternoon , pushed and shoved across corridors they ermerged out of what the humans called Durlag tower then on for half a day on very wide and open roads, evrything was green and lush , nothing like the moors back home , they were given clothes , a bit of gold , their bounds were remooved and they were cut loose in a wide farmland in the shadow of the biggest stone wall either had ever seen . A bulky dwarf from the garrison exchanged a few words with the lieutenant then takes them aside.

-Allright lads , we let you go here were takin tha boat to amn , ya have 'nough fer a good meal and a bath , dont try anything foolish or tha Fist will make short werk of ye both, now git outa here ya stinkin orcs.

Gruk just looks at him , normally he'd have a snapy come back that would get a brawl started no doubt , a coment about his mother or his height maybe , he wouldnt be intimidated by a plated dwarf , but before him stands Baldur's gate , it leaves him speechless , Valk just stares back and forth , rubbing his wrist where the chains were the tightest.

- Brother ...

- Yes brother ?

- Where the frak are we ?

[Gruk]

from there , starts the epic journey ...