The Great Machine

Deep in the earth, where great rivers of magma ooze and burn their way through the foundations of Kempin itself, a great machine was being built.  Massive drums beat a resounding rhythm to drive the ogaroth workers to greater feats of strength and endurance.  Huge cogs were lifted into place, and tooth set upon tooth to drive the expansive works.

Cavern

Levers were set, their size so large, that a number of massive trees had been spliced together end to end to make their length.  Woven ropes as thick as a 100-year oak tied mechanisms together across great distances.  Heavy chains stretched across the cavernous expanse, pushing and pulling the great machine's mechanisms here and there.

Cavern

The unfinished machine, with its cyclopean scale, stretched off in both directions along the magma river.  So vast was the cavern and the mechanism being set in place within it, that both ends fell out of view, obscured by smoke and diffusion of red wavering light.  The magma in the river, carried small pieces of black crust on its surface, melting away and sinking, as a new layer of crust cooled and blackened.

cavern

The ogaroth workers numbered in the thousands.  They sung ancestral songs in unison.  Songs that told tales of their ancient history and conquests of old.  Sweat dripped from their laboring muscles, and evaporated in the heat before it hit the steaming rocks underfoot.  Hammers swung, a chorus of metal ringing and shattering stone.  Picks pried at rocks that stood in the way of the great machine.  For nearly two decades, rotating crews of ogaroths had worked non-stop on the great works, and it appeared their work would soon be complete.  

cavern

Above the strenuous labors below, on a platform in the upper reaches of the cavern stood a man in the shadows, a red cloak drawn tightly around his form.  Next to him, an inselelfen stood, his head slightly bowed.  The inelelfen's elvan features and style of armor clearly identified his origins on the Island of Shimera.  His face was heavily scarred, and he wore a black eye patch with silver embroidery over his left eye.

The figure in the shadows spoke.  "Our work reaches a crucial stage.  Do you believe now that our plan will work, Qidoran?"

Qidoran glanced quickly at the man in the shadows and then looked away.  "I believe in you, Moj Vođa.  What matter is my opinion?  The prophesies of the Vidioci have given us our path, and you have led us down it."

The figure in the shadows was silent for a moment.  Then he started coughing, and his entire body was wracked and bent over in the effort.  His long cloak parted to reveal a thin withered hand that clutched at his chest.  Qidoran reached out to steady his Emperor.  

The coughing subsided, and the Red Jackal stood straight again, still obscured in the shadows.  "And what of this crew you've chosen?  Are they capable?  They must show absolute discretion in this matter.  If they fail...we fail."

Qidoran hesitated.  "I wish you'd let me send some of our truly elite soldiers.  I could put together ten iselelfen that have been loyal to you for decades, and their skill would be unquestionable."

The Red Jackal nodded.  "I have no doubt.  But I am watched.  My iselelfen are watched.  If I use any of my best...my most obvious resources, we will lose this gambit before it has ever began.  NO...we need unknowns.  Irregulars with little connection to me, or those around me.  They can quest and travel with impunity, and they will go completely unnoticed." 

Qidoran nodded.  He already knew all this.  But, it frustrated him so to be hamstrung in this way.  "The crew I've chosen is obscure.  Just getting their start really, but they've shown themselves to be loyal.  And resourceful.  They will get the job done, Moj Vođa."

"Good.  I trust your judgement on this.  As for the wisdom of our plan.  We must be sure.  Gather once more the Vidioci.  We must know that we are on the right path.  We must be sure of our steps...we must not fail.  Nothing can be left undone.  Nothing." 

Qidoran bowed slightly.  "I will let the High Legate know, and have him assemble the Holy Seers."

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NOTES FROM THE DM:  In the Empire of Bone, the Common Speech is called the language of Cyril.  When I want to create a phrase or title in Cyril, I will use google translate and translate the phrase or title in either Russian or Croation.  You can do that too, when you are writing stories that take place in the Empire of Bone.

Moj Voda = "My Leader"

Vidioci = "Seers" or "Holy Seers"

This next terminology is not Cyril, but the elves from the Island of Shimera are called Iselelfen.  This is similar to how Wood Elves are called Waldelfen.  So, both the Red Jackal and Qidoran are Iselelfen from the Island of Shimera originally.

And finally, this story is an example of stories I will write for the campaign that the players can read and know about, but your characters don't.  This is definitely in the realm of player-knowledge to help add depth to our story and the world, but just really can't be known by the characters themselves.