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Missing 8 Days of The Deep Reconnaissance Mission

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    Posted: 04 Feb 2024 at 16:25
From the daily reports of Commander Cirian Danorian, deep reconnaissance mission.


Day 1, morning: Yesterday we made contact with an Orc warband on the shore. We asked them to fetch their leader, or someone who could speak on their leader’s behalf. He appeared, surrounded by retainers, big Orcs, with many scars. We asked for his permission to travel through his lands. We offered gifts, and veiled threats. Our own Kartur-Hhakrall guards took the lead on this, and spoke to him Orc to Orc. It worked. He took the gifts and gave permission. So this morning we make landfall, and start east.

Day 1, evening: There is good hunting in these lands, and we brought down plenty of game, so that we will eat well tonight. We saw Orc scouts behind, ahead and to the sides, but they left us alone. Presumably they have got the message that we have permission to be here.

Day 2, morning: Violently awoken. Camp attacked. One of our cooks was killed, a scribe injured. One of the Kartur-Hhakrall also dead, two others slightly battered. So much for promises of safe passage. The scribe can walk, and the Kartur-Hhakrall want to pursue our attackers. They want revenge. I want to know why we were attacked. So, we will follow our attackers’ trail.

Day 2, evening: Caught up with our attackers. I held the Kartur-Hhakrall back, not wanting to lose more people. They contented themselves hunting down one of the stragglers, then withdrew. We have camped in an easily defensible position, atop a steep scarp.

Day 3, morning: Little rest last night. Three separate incursions from the local Orcs against us. They seemed designed to test us, not hurt us. No deaths on either side, though we lost a pack mule, felled by a javelin. I have allowed our Kartur-Hhakrall to attempt negotiations. As I write they are bellowing insults and goading the Orcs to attack us.

Day 3, noon: My Kartur-Hhakrall seem to have decided that attacking is a form of negotiating. Half of them disappeared earlier, and have just returned. They carry the severed heads of two young Orcs. We are now fortifying the camp.

Day 3, evening: The Kartur-Hhakrall notion of negotiating works well with these local Orcs. A messenger has just shouted from the woods that their leader will speak to us tomorrow morning. We expect attacks in the night, of course.

Day 4, morning: Quiet night. No attacks. The Orc leader arrived at dawn. She wasn’t someone we’d seen before, not the same leader we bargained with from the ship. I asked why she had not stood by his promise, and she spat and cursed, saying that she would not bow to him. She bowed to nobody, she said, for she was a free Orc, not a slave. Discussions followed. It seems that these Free Orcs have a thousand leaders, none acknowledging the others. I asked of stories of great Orc strongholds here, held by mighty chieftains. She said that she could be such a chieftain if she wanted. Asked why she didn’t want to, she said they never survived more than a year, and she had many years of fighting to do. I asked if she would ever follow one of these chiefs, and she said that she had, and might again, but only if she felt like it. I am bemused by this, and have left further negotiations to my Kartur-Hhakrall.

Day 4, noon: We will move off again soon. The Kartur-Hhakrall decided not to do a deal with the local warleader. They decided that she would see it as a sign of weakness if they sought peace. Instead they told her what route we would take, and invited her to attack us if she wished. I’m not convinced by this. Inviting attack seems foolish, but it is too late now. We will march as far as we can today.

Day 5, evening: After one and a half days of peaceful march, we are leaving Orc territory. We noted scouts watching us, but none have attacked. I have thanked my Kartur-Hhakrall for their work ensuring our safe passage, but will be happy if we do not have to deal with the Free Orcs again.


Day 7, evening: We have camped by a huge rock, with a crude carving chiselled into it. The figure is vaguely humanoid, but has no eyes. Our scribe tells us that it is meant to be a spirit called Melloris. Allegedly the spirit has manifested to the leader of a local community, who described it as being made of gold, supremely beautiful, but blind. The lack of eyes might have indicated blindness, but the strange shape of this figure does not suggest beauty, just a very poor stone carver.

Day 8, afternoon: We have spotted a stronghold high on a cliff. Its stone walls look ancient, but are partly ruined and have been recently and crudely patched with wood. Still, its position makes it seem impregnable. As we approached we found human farmers working small fields in the valley beneath, but they fled at our approach. We have made camp, and sent scouts up the cliff path to investigate.

Day 8, evening: Our scouts have not returned. We have also had visitors. A group of armed men, armoured, carrying bows. They said that they were a search party from the stronghold. They said they were looking for “Heretics who have fallen from truth and fled from the light of Melloris”, who they wanted to find in order to “save” them by taking them back to the community. They were very well armed for a friendly search party.

Day 9, noon: Our scouts have returned. They say that they were worried about climbing back down the cliff path in the dark. They also mentioned good food and warm beds in the settlement above. They report the community being confused by their visit, but there was no hostility. We will all trek up the cliff this afternoon, as a safe and comfortable place to stay would be welcome.

Day 9, evening: We have found passable food, warm beds, and solid fortifications. It is a welcome change from sleeping in a camp in the wilds. The locals are little inclined to talk to us, however.

Day 10, noon: The inhabited settlement is small. Just a couple of thousand people, but the location is so secure that no army could assault them. The people still avoid us, and lots of doors are locked. The old ruined parts of the stronghold are extensive, however, and merit more investigation. We are not the only visitors, as there is a small market. We found a small band of ragged elves trading here, and they say that the locals are as unfriendly to them as they are to us.

Day 10, afternoon: I was summoned to appear before the community’s leader. He sat on a large but crude throne, wearing the vestments of a priest and a large silver crown. I vaguely remember him. In Virten when I was young he was called Jerrian, and he was considered a possible future King of Virten. He was renowned as a virtuous man but the College of Silence suspected that he was mentally unstable. Now he leads this self-exiled community, and I was told to address him as Blessed Prophet of the Golden Spirit, not by his “former” name. He had summoned me to complain about one of our expedition. Apparently our scribe had been “spreading lies, infecting the minds of the true believers, promoting falsehood and immorality”. I doubt it. None of us have spoken much to the locals. But he clearly wants us to go, so I said that we would leave early tomorrow. I have no idea why he is hostile to us, but there was no point arguing.

Day 10, evening: Organised a search of the ruined areas, without alerting the locals. We found several rooms that looked like ritual areas, abandoned for centuries. Most interesting was a grand mural, dusty and cracked, from before the Sundering. It seemed to show a wizard or arch mage, depicted with a great staff, one eye covered with a patch, and one of his hands shown as being gold.

Day 11, morning: We set guards last night, and they woke us before dawn. They had seen movement where our horses were stabled, and they intervened, uncovering a partially dressed local woman and one of our animal handlers. He said that she had seduced him and asked him to stay and marry her. She said that he had tricked her into spending the night with him. I believe him, not her. He doesn’t have that much guile, and I don’t trust these people. We are leaving now. I would rather be out in the wilds than have to contend with the lies and paranoia that confound us here.


Day 12, evening: We are approaching the centre of the Sundering. The mountain before us looks unnatural, black and baked. Our scribe tells us that when the Sundering came, the very rock around here rolled and burned, becoming a tossing sea of fire. The mountain looks like that. It looks like a wave that has been frozen and turned black.

Day 13, afternoon: We have reached the mountain. There is no soil here, nothing can grow on it. It is just brittle, hard rock. It is also warm to the touch.

Day 14, afternoon: The mountain that we saw was not unique. As we marched today we were flanked by more mountains the same, barren and black. There is little wildlife here, and we have seen no hunters or settlers for some time.

Day 15, evening: We have reached the Great Moat. Beyond it we can see a huge island, encircled by it. The island is of this same black stone. We have set out night-lines and fish traps on the Great Moat, but the water itself tastes brackish, so I hold out little hope of fish for breakfast.

Day 16, morning: No fish for breakfast. The Great Moat is dead, as far as we can tell. We discussed finding some trees and building a boat, sailing across to the island beyond. All agreed that it would be possible. Nobody argued for it. From here the island looks barren, and we know that the water is dead, so there will be no food. None of us have heard of any expedition returning from the island. Rumours tell of ancient magics plaguing the land, and unnatural armies that still serve lost masters. We have no need to go there just to find out what kills all who attempt it.

Day 16, noon: We followed the coast of the Great Moat for the morning, and will now turn away from the island. Somewhere on there, legend says, the greatest stronghold of the Order of the Silver Light still stands. From there they unleashed the Sundering. And when the stones burned and the mountains rolled like waves, the tower stood untouched, enduring through it all. So the legend says. We are content to leave that legend untested, and we will move on.


Day 24, evening: We met a group of Orc hunters, and traded gifts. Having won their trust, we asked about Praekorn, the mages' stronghold ahead. Most of us fear that these will be like the New Light. The Orcs were relaxed. They said they trade there. They said we would be fine so long as we didn't try to pass through the walls without escorts. They said we would not have to introduce ourselves, as the mages would have been scrying on us already. Somehow that is not comforting.

Day 25, noon: We can see Praekorn in the distance. Our informants yesterday talked of its walls. It has no walls. Just two concentric rings of monoliths. I have sent scouts ahead.

Day 25, afternoon: The scouts report that the monoliths are inscribed with elemental runes and sigils. They saw the remains of an animal, perhaps a wolf, which had tried to cross between these, its body mangled and crushed. Scorch marks scar the ground around the monoliths. The scouts decided not to walk through these circles. There is no gate, but the approach path leads to some tables and benches, under a rickety roof. Presumably we are meant to wait there. I will go now.

Day 25, evening: A few of us waited at the hovel for a few minutes. A human servant walked out to meet us. He asked if we were there to trade. I said I wanted to speak to the mages. He seemed surprised, but led us through the rings of circles. As our scouts reported, the first ring is covered in sigils. The second ring has no visible markings. The settlement is small, resembling only a village, but with an eight story tower at its heart. He said that I will have an audience in the morning. We will learn what we can of the village tonight. There is a building set aside for the accommodation of visitors, which is adequate if sparse.

Day 26, morning: In an audience room on the bottom floor of the tower I spoke with a wizard. He said that he was an Apprentice of the First Sanctum and he asked me my business. I said we were there to offer the greetings of our King. I asked if he was in charge. He said, no, he was of the lowest Sanctum. I asked who ruled Praekorn, and he said that several Masters of the Seventh Sanctum were resident on the top floor of the tower. I asked if he could introduce me to them. No, he said that he can only speak to the Adepts of the Second Sanctum. They can only speak with those of the First and Third Sanctums. The Adepts of the Third Sanctum may then convey my message to the Mages of the Fourth Sanctum. It would take some time for my message to reach the upper floor. He suggested that I return in a few hours.

Day 26, afternoon: I met with three Masters of the Seventh Sanctum. They bade me welcome, without conviction. They were disturbingly well informed. They asked if my injured scribe, wounded a month ago, was fully recovered, or if they could offer medical assistance. I tried to sound like a diplomat, and offered the best wishes of our King, and so forth. They said that they would pass on my good wishes to the Arch Mages of the Eighth Sanctum in Kolbarch, who would pass these courtesies on to the Supreme Mages of the Ninth Sanctum. I inquired after these Supreme Mages, but they said that they had never met them, and did not even know their names. They rule a stronghold for the Heirs, but do not even know the names of those two ranks above them? I am not sure that I believe them.

Day 26, evening: I have just spent an hour with several of the lower mages. These were of the Fifth Sanctum, and one seemed to be some sort of librarian, with a long list of books that he wants. The authors and titles might mean something to a mage, but baffled me. The librarian said that the Heirs would pay well for copies. Another asked if we had any unusual artefacts that he might examine. Another asked after any unusual locations that we might have found in the wilds. Their interests are purely in magic and magical goods, it seems, and particularly in anything of a defensive nature. They were disinterested in any other subject of conversation.

Day 27, morning: We will move on today. The locals know almost nothing about the lands around here, and their rulers don't seem to care. Their attitude reminds me of the Dwarves of Clan Dollogh. They seem less dangerous than the mages of the New Light: they are keen to gather wisdoms and power, but as they have no interest in any people who might live in the lands around I would assume that they are not interested in unleashing these magics on outsiders. Still, it is sobering to wonder how much power the Heirs might have amassed in five hundred years, and it is worth remembering that their founder, Voyldarn, had been a refugee from the ranks of the Order of Silver Light, so it would seem naïve to trust them


Day 29, evening: We have made camp in some sort of ancient Dwarven ruin. It will be an uncomfortable night. There is scattered rubble on the hillside, but nothing that provides cover. So we have come in through the main entrance, to passages cut into the rock. The floors slope downwards, away from the opening. Our engineer says that the passages might once have continued back for miles, but the whole structure has slipped into the ground, swallowed up in the Sundering. We checked all the passages, and they all end in collapse.

Day 30, early morning: The guards we posted at the entrance raised the alarm. They say they saw a figure, skulking. A quick search found nobody. We will look again in the morning.

Day 30, morning: Started to pack up camp, but then the scouts reported in. They found our visitor’s tracks. Dwarf footprints. There shouldn’t be Dwarves this far east. So we will stay today, and investigate.

Day 30, evening: Scouting parties fanned out, looking for our visitor, or any other evidence of Dwarves living near here. They found nothing, but the guards back at camp saw him again, watching them.

Day 30, midnight: I set everyone to work this evening. It seems our visitor wants to get into these ruins. Maybe he has hidden something here. Maybe there’s a secret passage, some Dwarf deception here. So we searched. After five hours, nothing has been discovered. We need some sleep now.

Day 31, morning: The guards think our visitor is still lurking. So, the plan today is that we set out again, with search parties going in all directions. But after an hour they will fan out to form a single long line, and return. They will act like a net, trapping our visitor. I want to talk to him.

Day 31, afternoon: We have lost our opportunity. The Dwarf fell for the ruse, but we lost him. We went past him, fanned out, came back, trapped him. He ran, we chased. We hailed him, he kept running. We chased him to the edge of a cliff. He looked wretched. His hair was greasy and lank, his skin was sickly grey. In his left eye socket some sort of metal contraption whirred and moved around. We encircled him, and I tried to question him. Did he live in the ruins? No answer. Were there any other Dwarves living nearby? No answer. Could he please tell us his name? No answer. I told the Kartur-Hhakrall to grab him. They stepped forward, he stepped back and plunged fifty paces down the cliff. He killed himself rather than let us take him. I have now set the Kartur-Hhakrall to scale the cliff and check the body.

Day 31, evening: I should have been clearer with the Kartur-Hhakrall. I said check the body. I should have said retrieve the body. They checked it. They say it was not a real Dwarf. They say he did not have blood in his veins, but some black oil. I would have liked our surgeon to examine it. But our Orcs had checked it, and then they burned it. I can see the smoke rising in the distance. I asked why they built such a big bonfire for him. They said that they weren’t taking any chances.


Day 34, evening: This is as far from the ship as I want to go. Legends say this is the land of the Guul-Hai. Nobody from Virten has ever seen one. Stories say they move without a sound and can melt into the dark. They are supposed to be Orcs, but some tales say that they were changed by the mages long before the Sundering, and they’re now something else. We have lost good men already, and now people are nervous. So this will be our last search. Even the Kartur-Hhakrall are restless. We’ll try to make contact. Then, we’ll head home.

Day 35, morning: Have worked out a search pattern, and today we will start criss-crossing the area looking for tracks or settlements.

Day 35, evening: Nothing. No sign of habitation at all. The scouts noted an unusual number of wolf tracks, so we secured our camp perimeter carefully.

Day 36, evening: Another fruitless day. Men exhausted from searching, and all scouting parties returned to camp having found no sign of Orcs. Plenty of animal tracks, though, and we ate well on a deer that we felled. Disturbed by the disappearance of a bearer, sent to fetch water from the spring at dusk.

Day 37, morning: Scouts searched the spring. Snow fell yesterday, and ground around the spring is muddy, so tracking should have been easy. Our man’s tracks just stopped a few paces from the water. Lots of other tracks in the area, all wolves, but no sign of a struggle, no sign of him being chased, felled or dragged. Someone suggested the Guul-Hai might be riding wolves, but from the paw size and short gait these wolves are too small to ride.

Day 37, evening: Another useless day. Long discussion around the campfire, working out a new plan. Someone asked why there are so many wolf tracks, when we haven’t seen wolves. This suggested a new direction. Can’t solve the mystery of where the Guul-Hai are. So we’ll look into mystery of the wolves. Maybe there’s a link.

Day 38, morning: Awoken by screaming. Found our missing bearer. His body was hanging from a tree in the middle of camp. He had been stripped, and guts, heart and brain removed. No sign of clothes or innards. Our surgeon says he had been dead for a day. Much shouting at the guards who had been on watch. No idea how someone got past them with a corpse. No tracks on the ground. Guessed someone had climbed the tree to string him up, but no tracks by the tree. Someone suggested that his killers must fly. I dismissed the idea. No rumours of flying creatures here, and Orcs certainly can’t fly. But I have no theory of my own.

Day 38, evening: Better day. Two scouting parties found big groups of wolves. The groups were much bigger than normal wolf packs, and they wandered aimlessly. Someone suggested they were more like a flock of sheep than a pack of predators.

Day 39, morning: Bad morning. One of our human scouts has vanished, from the middle of the camp. Nobody saw him leave, no tracks, no sign of a struggle. Then I had my first argument with the Kartur-Hhakrall. They’ve been absolutely loyal until now. But they think it’s stupid to keep searching. They look nervous. It isn’t like them to be scared of anything. I asked them if they didn’t want to find fellow Orcs. The Guul-Hai have been separate from our Orc retainers for five centuries. I assumed they’d be curious. They said no. They said the Guul-Hai are unnatural, tainted. They said that a good leader would turn back. I understand what that means. I told them we’d search for one more day, and then I’d decide what to do.

Day 39, evening: Spent the day looking for and watching wolf packs, or herds. This may be a good line of enquiry. One scout reports seeing an Orc moving amongst a group of wolves, though later investigation showed only wolf tracks there, no Orc tracks. Another scout found a cooking pit, buried to conceal it. I asked him how he found it and he said he just searched in an area where there were no tracks, in the middle of an area with lots of wolf tracks. He estimated that half a dozen people might have eaten from the food cooked there, and suggested that we search for similar trackless areas amidst areas with lots of wolf activity. It is a good suggestion, but I am starting to agree with the Kartur-Hhakrall, that we should not be here.

Day 40, morning: Our missing scout was found by the camp fire, where he had been sleeping. As before, clothes, heart, guts and brain were missing, and our surgeon says he has been dead for a day. I have given the order to strike camp and head back.

Day 40, evening: Two hundred paces from camp a Kartur-Hhakrall scout smelled something, so went to look. He came back with gnawed animal bones. He said the tooth marks showed that Orcs had been eating them, last night. There were other bones, from previous nights. The place where they were had a clear view down into our camp site. We had spent five days failing to find the the Guul-Hai, and they had been watching us all along. We marched more swiftly after that, and covered a good distance, glad to be leaving these lands.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Silly Britches Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04 Feb 2024 at 16:37
The links are a rough guideline for the route I think they took. Somewhere between the Tower and Heirs of Voyldarn is where the report loses 8 days. I've often wondered if searching buildings, campsites, graveyards and such could lead to clues or possibly find the missing notes and reward a T3 diplomat of some type. Maybe a possible way to gain the ambassadors units that are already coded in to game but never implemented. Let me know your thoughts.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Freyja. Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04 Feb 2024 at 21:38
This is awesome! Thanks so much for sharing. 

I searched the full text of the faction lore and did not find the missing days. Travel time might explain it, but it could be something to investigate. 
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Beleg Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04 Feb 2024 at 23:09
Your wiki link is dead, Freyja. It doesn't work here in any case.


Edited by Beleg - 04 Feb 2024 at 23:10
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (1) Thanks(1)   Quote Freyja. Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 04 Feb 2024 at 23:19
I don't know why the link doesn't work, but it is also on my profile, and Avi's profile, at the top. 

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Beleg Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05 Feb 2024 at 00:35
The profile one does work, numbers in it are different
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Freyja. Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05 Feb 2024 at 14:48

1. The starting location ...

Day 1, morning: Yesterday we made contact with an Orc warband on the shore.

So this morning we make landfall, and start east.

She wasn’t someone we’d seen before, not the same leader we bargained with from the ship.

The link to the Free Orcs hub is for Kachak in Shardlands, and it is not near a shore. They could not have negotiated from a ship with the orcs at Kachak.

The Free Orcs have 10 hubs. I think Trazurk is more likely to be where they met and negotiated with the Free Orcs. It's on the coast of The Long White, south of the Kartur-Hhakrall territory where they hired Kartur-Hhakrall as guards.

Trazurk: https://elgea.illyriad.co.uk/#/World/Map/-419/-3224

The move speed of the Kartur-Hhakrall is 11 sq/hr.

The distance from Trazurk to Sanctuary is 778 squares.

Which puts the travel time at about 4 days, and they would have had to travel through the Free Orcs territory.

They arrived at Sanctuary on day 7, but they did go off on a side mission to get revenge for being attacked. So, the timing seems correct.

If they started from Kachak in Shardlands, then their travel time would be less than a day and they wouldn't have any other Free Orcs territories to go through. Because the story tells us that each hub is owned by a different chieftan, and they each do their own thing. Kachack is just too close to Sanctuary to be the starting point.


2. It is also unclear who/which faction sent this mission. Who was Cirian Danorian reporting to? I could not find him in any other part of the lore.


3. The distance from Omen to Praekorn is 284.86 squares and would take about 35 hours (or about 1 1/2 days).

I did not see any clues to explain why it took 8 days or what to look for. Unless, they decided to investigate Omen, which they said they did not want to do. Maybe they did. Omen is the where the Sundering originated, was a catastrophic event in the BL 500 years ago, and is a huge part of the lore for all of the BL factions.  

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Silly Britches Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 05 Feb 2024 at 15:12
My theory is that between the last entry on day 16 to day 24 they were attacked, by who is unknown, tower mages maybe, and in the process did not have time or the will to write reports. It could be possible that the reports did get written, but lost or removed from record. It more then likely that there is nothing to be done, but I've always wondered if possibly there was something to the story that could be solved. 
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Freyja. Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06 Feb 2024 at 14:07
There's also the thing about The Tower using a portal to come out of The Rift ... there's that to consider ... 
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Silly Britches Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 06 Feb 2024 at 14:15
I hadn't even thought of that, there are a bunch of portals in that area, may need to scout and spy those areas too.
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