The Kahzariim Warcamp

[Random_White_Guy]

With the defeat of the Yowling Ember Pursesnatchers, what began as an odd territorial claim has taken root.
Visitors from the Ponds of a Large orc and smaller companion in one meeting.
In the next a pink-clad wizard, and the sudden appearance of the illustrious Elven Lorist at the Warcamp.
Word even ringing out of potions and trade being done in the once abandoned Plaza.

Surrounding the nearby alley sthe graffiti continues to circulate, along with crude maps of territorial claim.
A Fountain contested, the famed Rifts of Seams, the Black Dragon's Domain, and a Garden's presence.

//TerritoryMap 3.0
//Territory Map2.0
//Territory Map1.0

[Random_White_Guy]

Within the abandoned Plaza's boundaries is raised a crude sign bearing the Ash-and-Blood Sigil of Kahzar: The Shattered Mountain.

THE WAR CAMP



OF THE KAHZARIIM

It is emphazised with the piked corpse of a recently slain Tricky Wolf Cannibal next to the sign of claim, three others of his gang left to rot dead in the Scraggleways proper.

Not long later a sweet sounding female voice rings out.

Meredina Cassel
Speaks now Gor'Tam of Kahzar. As some may find my voice or business unseemly I have paid well for Human Emissary to serve as my Broker. In the coming days she will offer many arcane services to my Warcamp, as well as serving as my voice with the Peers. Any House that wishes business leave me word and she shall deliver.

[Random_White_Guy]

It was a evening in the Scraggleways. Until it wasn't.

Ambient Message:
The very foundations of 'Ring 99 - The Plaza Abandoned' rumble as otherworldly energies coalesce!

Arriving from the Peerage came many. The livery of House Orza orange and black.  The brown and browner of the House of Glitt.  Even the antlered helm of the Heir of Haremarch. And a very scrappy looking Dwarven Bounce of the Weeping Flagon. All wondering and gazing about in search of what had caused the disturbance.

Yet questions quickly cast aside as they ventured within... Returning with large, jangling bags of gold. Their boots covered with smashed pumpkins guts and seeds. Tithings to Yevathax stolen from the bountiful gardens.

Gold of course drawing the attentions of others...

Among the menagerie of trophies and executed trespassers of the War Camp a Weeping Trash Greedking's head piked in new addition.

What began as Gang Violence has escalated and spread. A raid of a domain of the Small Gods...

[Random_White_Guy]

Through out the day tales spin and continue into the night.
Of the Dwarven Orzan accepting groat peeling the flesh of slain gangsmen as trophies, to be raised in lieu of severed heads. The Wise Gullgold Cutters. Slaughter-drunk Eye Peerkillers, the Red-Soaked Gem Cutters. All losing members overnight.
Of Invitation from House Haremarch to a massive Orcblood to meet upon the Bridge for escort into the Peerage. The beast lingering for a time before engaging with Sunpurse Retainers asking many questions of the visitor.
Of a rumbling in the Scraggleways, and a Band of Countsmen and Women along with elderly Halfling arriving at the Warcamp.

Twice now the Arbiter's Abandoned Plaza desecrated by unseen presence. Sunpurse added to the list of Great and Minor House who have arrived embarked beyond this Plane for nothing more than treasure and fortune...

The Warcamp of the Kahzariim paid visit by nearly two dozen in a handful of days. Each leaving caked in Ash and Blood...

Far wealthier than when they arrived with armfulls of Potions and bursting sacks of gold...

[Random_White_Guy]

In the early hours of the morning came an unusual invitation addressed to the denizens of Little Ticker from a deep inhuman baritone

Gor'tam Kahzar

Denizens of Little Ticker. A question: How can you call yourselves such? When I tore my hands and worked my back in the Steadings such tales we serfs heard. Wealth unbound. Ambition. Cunning. Rebelious spirit.

So many plates now asking for aid. Was the Beggar's Guild the only to survive? Dwarves and Hinfolk and Humans and more. Surviving on the scraps of the Peer. Eating gruel with glee. Weeping in their flagon. Know this - You can cast off the past as easily as you threw away your pride.

Ticker may have burned, your spirit may be broken, but the fortunes that made your Ward grow still remain. The Seams ripe and aching for pillage. The Rings flush with monstrosity hording treasure. The Warcamp of the Kahzariim welcomes all. Start anew.

Any who would brave the dangers of Scraggleways to investigate further would find two broken and shattered bodies - as if absolutely pulverized by a massive hammer. One a Dwarven Wizard of the gang known as the Singing Lance Neck Tisters. His hands first broken and then his skull.

The second body one of the Screeching Deathflame Desperados. His left kneecap shattered, then his right, and then his chest cavity caved in by an equally massive hammer with severe blunt force trauma.

Two gangland individuals of the scraggleways who it seems were not as welcome as the invitation stated.

[Random_White_Guy]

Rains pour over the 99th ring, the filth and slime of the day to day of the ring's activities washed away.
Almost anyway. The Scraggleways awash with yet another night of blood and violence.
Three different gangs with members announced dead.

This time though bloodshed gave way of a different sort.  Beyond the usual dead of heads severed from the broken gangsmen, two exceptions.

One gang member of the Sneak Lion Ally-Royals, his body wracked with an obscene Curse, black magic ripping through his frame contorting his joints in wrong and unnatural directions.

One Gang member of the Chortling Lion Stabbers thrown through a God Damn Wall. The rubble pile of the bricks and detrius of the abandoned building crushing him as his broken frame left to rot.

in the early hours of the morning proclamation ringing out.

Gor'tam Kahzar
Mhrgn. It seems this night it is Lion's pride that gets the best of the Scraggleways. The Sneaky Lion Alley-Royals. The Chortling Lion Stabbers. Your pathetic milkblood recruits lay dead and broken. Four now have pledged to The Khazariim. We grow. You perish.

With word of rank growing the Map shifts. More graffiti beyond the Abandoned Plaza of the Arbiters. Tags of Kahzariim and the smeared Ash and Blood of the Shattered Mountain sigil appearing in the Scraggleways proper.

[Random_White_Guy]

In the wake of the announcement of additional recruitment comes word of other activities through the day and into the night.

Word of members of the cult faith spreading heretical potions flying in the face of the commandments and commands of the Peerage's Vestry, being boxed for shipment and spread among the Peerage. The orc never seen but his bottles stamped with the Shattered Mountain sigil left in the King's Dispensary box and among undoubtedly some of the Burgage by other means.
Word of members of the scraggle gangland band in the Ponds paying visit the fire and publicly discussing the amassing of Junksnuff and other narcotic from local dregs eager for a profit.
Word of members of the seam sundering company in the Realms beyond paying visit to the open air tavern of Crowclutch and other locales taking nothing but surveying a great deal.

An audacious Orcblood welp playing with itself in the Mud rather than dirtying the Peerage? So long as it away from civil society the Peers seem to care little. Many Retainers of Many houses offering the creature aid when found in the city streets so long as the beast outside the Ward.
An obstinate and brutal Halfman seeking to curb Gangland strife and live independently?  Pondsmen seem to only care enough the beast keeps them in groat, potions, and food so they offer it aid.
A violent and brutal Prospector taking to Raid slaughtering monsters in the Seams and taking fortunes? Adventurers and Ring Runners seem to care little, offering it aid and many answering its every call.

One thing is for certain though. Matters in the Scraggleway are swiftly worsening. What began as gangland murders seem to be taking an increasingly ritualistic turn. A small handful of fanatics of Ash and Blood carving a bloody swath seemingly uncontested. This night another four more bodies found.

The Weeping Fistfool Guttwisters skewered by spear and flesh torn. While three of them seem to fit the trend of simply cut down in strife and their bodies left to rot in the Scraggleways...

The large and strongest one among them with massive War Mace in hand is charred and burned.

Massive scorchmarks of a Flaming Strike as the nearby cobbles burned and blackened. The contortion of the limbs and the fingernail scratches in the stones it appears all of this occurred before death.

....Screaming and crawling towards the nearby puddle of rainwater to no avail. Blood boiling away from a body turned to ash.

[Random_White_Guy]

Across the Scraggleways in the wake of the Ruthless Ring Cutter gang's failed attempts comes a final threat.

Gor'tam Kahzar
While doing good business at my camp with potential recruit and Orza...the Ruthless Ring Slashers gang...attacked. Is it desperation that drives you? Hunger? Poverty? Days it has been...the same every night. Over and Over.

I have carved limbs, taken your flesh as pelt, piked head, even brought Kahzar's fury to bring you to ash and still you seek my blood. So now I offer alternative.

Kneel. You will starve no more for fortune. You will hunger no more. Kahzar would bring the bounty of the Realms to your fingertips. Your lives not wasted fighting Retainer, Ring Runner, or others who would claim you in your banditry.

This to be my only offer. Abandon your failed gangs. Kneel to the Kahzariim. No more trophy taken, no more stylish warning, they seem to do nothing. So those who strike will be crucified in the Rifts. Hunger, Thirst, Seamsick take you. You will beg for forgiveness nailed to wood. None will come.

Hours later the Scraggleways would shake once more...

Ambient Message
The very foundations of 'Ring 99 - The Plaza Abandoned' rumble as otherworldly energies coalesce!

Arnjolf Vhaeladuk
[A voice, trembling with exaltation] This is Arnjolf-- Graveseeker of Kahzar, He of Ash and Blood. He has opened up a seam within the warcamp, and I would find battle and conquest within..join me at the abandoned plaza. Come quickly.

A New Faith among the House of Glitt.

The wake of such unorthodox announcement seeing Graffiti spread further throughout the Scraggleways as the Watergardens now begin to show the graffiti of Kahzariim and sigil of the Shattered Mountain.

[Random_White_Guy]

Through out the day there is more talk of strife with gangs. True to word came Crucifixion... as the gangs of the Cruel Groat Cannibals, Yowling Kurki Maneaters, and Cunning Alleyscream Cannibals have all lost members this day.  The Gangs adopting a more savage, brutal, and desperate motif it seems as all three gangs that tried favored the feasting of flesh. Fresh bodies littering the gutters as some left behind. Those who survived less lucky as two humans and a Dwarf slatted to Oakwood Lumber, consecrated in blood and left unconscious in the Rifts.

A female retainer of Glitt and a Male of Velstra in witness as these poor souls thatched and bound to suffer. They are left to starvation, dehydration, Seam sickness, and whatever planar monstrosity claim them.

In the hours to come though came true terror. Swarms of locusts hissing and shrieking, the braying of wolves, and even grotesque "Natural Guardian" spiders seen only to dwell in the darkest corners of Pauper Ponds of the strongest changelings groves descended upon the alleyways.  Beggars hiding in flophouse and addicts alike would notice a Green Mask of Willowgrove seen openly clashing in the Alleyways with Bloodpanther in tow.

A brutal and costly fight on one side as the swiftly rising Orcblood of Kahzar struggled to stand ground against the seemingly unending tide of magics to come. Warpings of the Ley and calls to the Gods themselves marring the cobbles in strife as they met. These alley so unused to changeling presence shook with the earth spewing forth fourth and fifth circle magics of all grotesque and natural ends. The skinwalking Greenmask shifting seamlessly between bestial form and humanoid as the Orcblood was poisoned, thrashed, gnashed, gnarled, beaten, clawed, ripped, and torn. He was assailed by insect and arachnid and panther and beast and blade alike.

Fury though, howls of Ash and Blood, of inhuman and guttural bellowing echoed above all. Axe tearing through swarm, fur, and severing spider leg.

And all was silent. Save for the ragged gasps of an exhausted and furious warrior, the beast chased from the Alley.

A costly, but impactful victory. More of the landscape shifting its dominion as Kahzariim graffiti spreads further into the alleys and among the Hidden Garden of the Scraggleways.

An hour or so of banter and furious whisper and otherwise the maps once more changing as word rings out...

A lone visitor at the War Camp some time later after the fight ended.

Gor'tam Kahzar
Mhrgn... I emerge from tense standoff at Warcamp. Cooler heads have prevailed and my victory recognized by Greenmask. Peace brought to the Alleys. May our paths never cross again... The Hidden Garden of the Scragglleway ceded to the Kahzariim in Trial by Hunt.

Those who starve in the Steadings and wish vacate. Those who suffer in the Alleys fighting for molded bread from the King's table. Know that service to my company now guarantees meal, along with fortune. Those who work the Blood, the Auld, Shaman... now are sought. My fertile lands need tending.

[Random_White_Guy]

The once sacred and hallowed Plaza where the Hundred Scrolls stood as rule of law against Chaos and Seamstry and more... desecrated. The surrounding alleys so drenched in blood, death among the gangs, the Rifts peppered with crucifix of suffering gangsmen. For weeks the turmoil has been ongoing, overlooked by some, embraced by others.

Yesterday though, in the bright of day, the Plaza of the Arbiters shaking and quaking. The edges of reality flickering and bending.  Out of these bends of reality came a quartet. Four figures wreathed in an unnatural fog. Their eyes burning crimson. Their armors and garments drenched in blood. They visited the Warcamp of the Kahzariim with gift in hand.

...The shattered body of a gangsmen, bearing the colors of a Diamond Kurki Peerkiller. No mutiliation. No pageantry. His throat simply slit. The warm liquid spraying in honor before the Orcblood. The female leader of the quartet dropping his body and the company fading back to the Seams from which they came.

Soon after came word came in deep baritone, spread across the city.

Gor'tam Kahzar
Hear me now... and know the truth of things. It was not long ago the Peers would spit and scowl at my passing. Suspicion grasping them. Fear binding them. It was the apathy of the Peer that gave rise to the Count...And it is an apathy that has not abated since his rise...

For weeks I have carved bloody swath through the Scraggleways. Executing all who would oppose me. Torn through the Realms of the Planes...Sacrifices... to Kahzar. The Peers... [A low, rumbling laugh] They helped, eagerly. They watched as men and women raised on lumber in sacrifice... and did nothing.

Your apathy...my sacrifices...they have not been squandered. Borne of ash and war...The Kahzariim...the blood drenched Einherjar of Kahzar...have finally torn through the seams. They have brought envoy. Have brought gift. Have sworn to me their allegiance...

You mortals who have pledged first shall hold their favor. Learn their ways. Rise among them. Soon we abandon the Scraggleways... those of you who seek to rise have precious little time left to prove yourselves before we begin our march. Prepare yourselves.

And just as quickly as the Plaza overtaken, came word - Soon it would be abandoned. The Bloodshed in the alleys, the taking of territory, the raising of forces...

No grand criminal effort, no endeavor to bring peace to those stricken in poverty who dwelled there. Merely a ripe population of rival gangs and warriors... adjacent to the seams of the Rifts... to be exploited.