Snow Spiders in Blood

Conquest and Madness.

The frost billowed from his mouth, mirrored almost completely by his mount. Not every orc warlord rode scaviir, most rode the white tigers they were famous for. Only the strongest creatures alive could truly tame a scaviir. And he was one of the strongest creatures alive because he had tamed three. It's eight chitinous limbs would glide across the snow and ice of his homeland with ease, taking down prey from out of nowhere before disappearing back into the white ocean without a trace.

Their frost white hair could sense changes in the air around them far better than any mage's alarm spell could and their lightning reflexes could respond before their rider was even aware of the danger. Some warlords would dislike the barely contained chaos that a scaviir represented, that feeling of never truly being in control of the creature, but not Ku'Rak. He understood the benefit it can be, to allow his mount the freedom of action and thought. He asked loyalty of them, only so far as they allowed him to direct them to their next feast of flesh. It was a good deal. It was a fair deal. It was an Orcish deal.

Looking to his right, he huffed at the four warlords mounting their tigers and casting nervous glances at his trio of snow-white spiders against the backdrop of the great pine trees their armies were flowing out of. It had not been so long ago, those same warlords had been facing this horrifying trio in battle. Their same mounts could do nothing to keep up with his scaviir, outpacing them at every turn and unmounting them with ease before forcing their submission. Nothing could cause fear like a twenty-foot long, nine-foot-tall, frost white spider bearing down on you. Even the most suicidal berserker would throw down their weapons and flee at the sight. It was no wonder these warlords were still nervous.

Of course, it could have been their rider as well. Ku'Rak was less than completely sane, it afforded him greater protection from magic as all spells seemed to slide off of his mind like blood dripping down his ax blade. That wasn't to say he was immune to magic, certainly, a fireball would careen into him as strongly as another orc. Assuming it could hit him atop a scaviir, of course. Perhaps that was the reason for their looks after all, as he realized he had been laughing maniacally. He often did that when he was wrapped in thought, the thrill of living and crushing and conquering was an overriding emotion for him.

Turning his attention back to the focus of their assembly: The town of Whitestone. A small human settlement on the edge of the white ocean. Small for humans, of course, meant massive and fortified behind a wall that almost nothing could crossover. Nothing except a scaviir, or three scaviir. It was larger than any orc stronghold he'd ever seen, although this wasn't the first time he had been to this city. He was born a slave here, and that's where his madness began before he escaped to the white ocean, where his madness fully set in. His slave brands clearly visible on his cheek, and his exposed back, two circles with a chain link between them.

His mount was feeling his desire to attack the masses of humans as they scrambled desperately to get inside of the gate. The miners, farmers, and anyone unfortunate enough to live outside of the cities protective wall had been given fair warning. Something that his own warlords thought an absurdity, they should sweep in like the winter storms and take everything in their wake. That was not Ku'Rak's way, he wanted them at their strongest. All gathered in one place, secure in the walls and metal they forced him to build. So that he might show them the truth of the world, a truth he found in the snow. Nothing can stop him, nothing can break him.

Finally, his armies had assembled and he could call the charge. His war trolls would assault the gates, his shaman would bring frost and chaos to the towers, and his orcs and goblins would pour in like water through a broken dam. Of course, he wouldn't be watching them. That's what he had four warlords for, so he could play.