Early Morning, Brightening 14, Cryxatum; Era II of the Celestial Mandate
The usual rain that clung to Orckon like a drunken comrade unable to walk straight was lighter this morning, so fine it was almost a mist but still cold, though it was summer. There was not a breath of wind to blow the mist away and this gave the morning crispness. When Ogrim had first risen, purposefully early, his mind fog had fled quickly as he stripped his blankets and splashed cold water over his body, pulled on his clothes and light armor and buckled his weapons were they may be reached quickly.
Finding the Skull Hammer Clan compound was a simple task. As one of the seven hosted clans they enjoyed a status that was envied amongst the majority of simple Orckon citizens. Approaching the stronghold where they were located it was obvious that their tactical position was a genius piece of planning, but also simple. Having a clan bonded to the city afforded the clan a degree of privilege and safety and in return, they city could call on them for its defense. Also, locating the clans on the perimeter had two fold benefits for the ruling lords. As each clan was responsible for a piece of the outer wall, their pride would drive them to defend it furiously, with no recourse but death for their enemies or themselves. Secondly, having the clans so far from the literal centre of power, it made an open usurping action against the lords of Orckon that much more difficult.
Approaching the Skull Hammer Clan gate, Ogrim noted that though the hour was early, the guards were attentive, alert and deadly. The creature grunted a question that the one eyed greenskin did not hear clearly but responded in half growl.
”I am Ogrim Ash-Auga. Former Bolg of the Rog Shati of the Skull Hammer Clan. I request entrance, whelp.”
As if to prove his point, and to show the guards he held no fear for them, Ogrim pulled off his clothes and armor to expose his back, and the Clan tattoo that was emblazoned upon it. Turning around with a scowl on his face he barked an order in the morning quiet.
”Open that gate, Zanbaur.”