Shattered Hands, by Ur'Marshal Karnagan De'Unnero

Chapter 1: Keeping the Peace

3rd of Gorgani, in the 542th year of the Imperial Empire. One year before
Project Cosmic Hope...

The soft clinking of golden armour, and the sound of crunching sand, greeted
the village square of Shanthmark in the predawn hours. The culprit, warily
searching the empty square, rested a massive hand upon his ebony longsword,
narrowing his eyes as he looked at a proud aslaran woman who was walking alone
in the street. As his black eyes narrowed in a scowl, the feline adolescent
stared back at the grey-skinned intruder with a cool, expressionless gaze,
casually striding into her simple dwelling. The orclach carefully trudged
through the dirt path, keeping a watchful eye out for sudden movements.

As the tall warrior neared the massive lodge set in the southwestern corner of
the village, he snapped his head around as the whizzing sound of darts rushed
right for his face, Diving to the ground and rolling in a fluid motion, he
cursed as a second volley of darts sunk deeply into his neck, causing the
orclach to stiffen in paralysis as poison seeped into his veins. Suddenly,
shrieking aslaran warriors started pouring from the homes around the lodge and
dashing towards the fallen figure. Whooping loudly, they proceeded to throw
heavy nets of knotted rope onto the large warrior as he tried to get up from
the floor. The largest aslaran of the tribe, a white-striped male with
glistening silver fur raised up his hand to still his warriors.

"Comm-and-er Korath," he shouted down to the glaring orclach on the ground.
"You go to Emperor, tell him Shanthmark people suffer for his precious tribute!
We pay you no longer!" he barked in his native tongue as his young braves
commenced crying out in celebration of their Soothsayer's noble defiance
against the Empire. The muscular aslaran grinned through his blue face paint,
and added, "We stronger than you think, Kor-ath. Maybe you should have got more
braves, eh?"

"It's Commandant to you, fool," Korath gritted his teeth, "and Ur'Guard do not
fall so easily to your kind." In one fluid motion, Korath stood up, clenching
his fists as the nets covering him magically burned away. Roaring a warcry, the
gold-clad fighter dashed forward, slamming into one brave with a brutal slash to
the ribs. Korath span around to kick a young spellcaster in the kneecap,
grunting in satisfaction as the snap of bone and the young shaman's howl of
pain echoed through the dimly lit village. "Enough of this farce, Soothsayer!
You do not know how much you will lose for this pitiful resistance," he roared
back in the aslaran tongue, first sundering another tribal warrior's crude iron
sword, then smashing his forehead into the aslaran's ochre muzzle. The orclach
took a step back, and touched a finger to his temple as his thought sped
halfway across the world, resting in the mind of another orclach warrior.

As the chieftain followed Korath's gaze over to his beautifully lacquered home,
two orclach in steel armour materialized in front of it, crossing their arms and
scowling at the Chieftain. The three guards that were standing watch in front of
the entrance tensed up as they stared at the new invaders, ready to attack at a
moment's notice from their leader. Korath nodded to the arrivals, and firmly
told the Soothsayer, "Your choice, old one. Either we settle this without
further disturbance, or my warriors go talk to your family, and then you will
pay your dues to the Holy Empire." The Soothsayer stared in numb amazement at
how quickly and precisely the orclach soldiers had managed to teleport so
exactly to his family's location, and nodded dumbly in assent. As the shocked
braves began to collect the taxes levied on them by the central government in
Celest, the old Soothsayer let a burning stare fall upon Korath and his men.
"Thief! Tax-gatherer!" the old chieftain hissed in humiliation and disgust.
"Shanth curse you with bitter lives!"

"Bitter?" the words quietly issued from thick grey lips, armour jingling as the
Commandant towered over the aslaran leader. "Tell me," Korath's voice dripped
with sarcasm as his voice deliberately grew louder to draw attention, "how
bitter is it to know your best warriors cannot protect your own family in their
home?" The Soothsayer stared at the floor, muzzle flashing red with shame as his
braves shook their heads sadly. Korath nodded to his troops as they
unceremoniously hefted the large ravenwood chests filled with silk tribute and
laughed, "Same time next year, Soothsayer." The monstrous orclach then waved
his hand, a jagged glowing tear erupting in the fabric of reality, as he and
his men stepped through back to their base in Shallach.

The three emerged in a large mausoleum, gleaming surrounded by orclach men and
women in the grim business of planning warfare. Right next to the altar, a
young orclach sat with a book writing down figures, wearing a pair of
blue-tinted spectacles. As information and data whistled onto the enchanted
glasses, the young man would crisply tap the sides of the lenses to assess the
last known positions of orclach forces all throughout the Basin. To an
orclach's eyes, the data analyst was slender, almost delicate in his
appearance. To anyone else, he was anything but delicate, with light grey skin,
rippling musculature, and massive incisors protruding from his face. As Korath
entered through the jagged tear in reality, the adolescent turned his voice to
the older woman standing behind him and reported, "Ma'am, Team Two reporting
in, all tribute secured, Teams One and Three currently stationed on Third Level
Shallach, Team Four en route to co-ordinates, ah, forty-one dash sixty."

The woman grunted at this last one, tapping the young orclach's head hard.
"Sixty-dash-FORTY-ONE, newbie. You can't make mistakes reading the map, or what
should have been an easy ride out to Dairuchi could end up dropping a squad
right in shark-infested waters! Pay attention!" The junior soldier flushed.
"Sorry, Senior Technician, won't happen again." The woman nodded, and walked
towards Korath with a salute. "Hail, Commandant. Don't mind the newbie, he's
only been working here a few days. Needs to put a little hair on his chest.
Anyways, all but one of our mainline patrols have returned to base, Team Four
is on bandit suppression in Toronada. Oh, and Emperor Ladantine sent a
messenger up here, he wants to see an Ur'Guard commander as soon as possible."
Korath briskly nodded as they walked together, and the pair turned towards
another hallway. "Thank you, Muja. We had relatively little resistance in
Shanthmark, but stress to any future teams that intimidation works better than
violence in that village. The aslarans can't hold a candle to any of our
stronger officers, but it would save a lot of bloodshed to shame them, rather
than use martial challenges where they can be avoided."

Another voice, dry and mocking, cut in. "Yeah, go to Shanthmark, see the
progress of sentient life. You must be hungry: catch!" The speeding projectile
flew at Korath, and the Commandant snatched the red apple out of the air,
narrowing his eyes at the shadows as the dreadlocked orclach who threw it
stepped forward. "Krangar. Not every assignment can be as cushy as getting
tribute from Estelbar. I hope the local fauna wasn't wearing you down?" The
roguish combat team leader grinned back as he stretched his abs, auric armour
gleaming in the bright white lights of the Catacombs, "Not so hard, Korath. The
little furrikin take a shine to warriors like us. There's enough donated fruit
and milk to treat half the organization for months. That can’t be considered
a bad day's work for the Guard, really." Korath looked sour, tapping his temple
as he deadpanned, "I know who's getting Suppression duty next roster, before
those furballs turn you into some kind of vegetarian. Or worse, a Paladin," he
added as he tore a hole through reality, a blue-tinted gate forming in front of
him. Muja's eyes widened as she smiled broadly, while Krangar clutched at his
heart in mock horror as he laughed, "What, Commandant, you didn't like the
apple?" Korath chomped through half of the small, bright red fruit in a single
bite and remarked, "Huh. You know, that isn't half bad." Chewing thoughtfully
on the fresh sweet orb, Korath stepped through the portal into Celest.

Chapter 2: Endorsement Deals

As Korath stepped out of the portal, he encountered the beaming, gentle face of
Emperor Ladantine VII. "Ah," the elder merian had sighed, "your Catacombs truly
are a marvel of planar research, Commandant. A man could be very happy studying
those beautiful obelisks." Korath dipped to one knee and bowed his head.
"Shallach serves at your pleasure, Lord Emperor." Emperor Ladantine laid a
comforting hand upon Korath's shoulder and said, "No ceremony, Korath. Walk
with me, please." The muscular warrior looked up into the gorgeous yellow sun
beaming down on the happy little Isle, and rose to his feet.

The orclach and his Emperor walked on the pleasant, broad wooden bridge that
linked north and south on the Isle of Celest. As they walked over the bridge,
children played in the sparkling river below, giggling as Merian children dove
beneath the waters only to shoot upwards, roaring in high voices as they
pretended to be terrible monsters come to eat innocent townspeople. Ladantine
smiled benevolently down at the little ones and said "Ah, Korath. Don't those
children deserve better than the world we are giving them? Don't they deserve a
future free from this strife?" "Only the sleeping dead have nothing to strive
for, Your Highness," the orclach leader responded absently, scanning the area
for possible threats to the life of the Emperor. Ladantine caught his gaze and
quietly whispered, "Korath, even now Acknor is just a small farming community,
settled by those who were once nomads. Shallach is strong, yes, but don't the
Ur'Guard want greater challenges? To take the tasks only Paladins were called
for previously?" The Commandant jerked his head sharply to hold Ladantine in
sight, and the aging Merian stoically returned the look. "The Basin is too
small for its entire people, my friend. Do you really want to spend the rest of
your existence squabbling with bandits and squeezing villagers for taxes they
can barely pay?" Ladantine demanded. "I ask that all pay their fair share to
save our world, but by the Light, levies placed on those who can barely make
ends meet won't be nearly enough!" Korath tried to keep his voice firm as he
said, "Emperor, if you believe in us so, if you are truly looking out for the
orclach people, why don't you turn your noble rhetoric into concrete action for
my people? Are the most glorious of duties under the Light reserved for Celest
and the Merians?"

As Ladantine opened his mouth, a deep voice behind the Ur'Guard leader said,
"Light rewards its servants, Korath. Not those who come late for their share of
the work." Korath grimaced, and turned to look at the thinly smiling leader of
the Paladin Corps of Celest, Lord General Dolph Inalai. The broad-shouldered
Merian Lord stood at six and a half-feet, but he had to crane his neck slightly
to look into the eyes of the orclach Commandant. It was not a fact the Merian
cared for. Though the two gold-armoured commanders smiled politely, in reality
they absolutely despised one another and their differing ideologies. Indeed,
without the leader of the Holy Empire standing to mediate, any of their
meetings may easily have come to blows. The Commandant gritted his teeth and
shot back, "What can I say, General? We are needed now more than ever:
considering the results of the Scorpion Cult fiasco, I'm surprised that the
Paladins could possibly get up from their fall," pronouncing the last word with
bitter irony. The noble-faced Merian curled his fine lip at this, then turned
his sparkling sapphire eyes to Emperor Ladantine. "Highness, the increased
duties of our Paladins are putting a large strain on the annual budget of the
Corps. We must protect the valued Imperial ambassadors, but this will come at
additional cost. Please intercede on our behalf to the treasurer of the
Council?" the large Merian asked, his deep bass voice radiating warmth and
reason. "Must be nice to have everything paid for by government subsidies and
Imperial politics- General," Korath's voice carried to both Merians as he
pretended to examine his right bracer. The smile Inalai had worn for Ladantine
melted away, and he bit off, "Yes, it is nice. Much better than passing the hat
while on an escort mission, wouldn't you say?" At Inalai's mocking smile, the
huge orclach bunched his hands into fists, but relaxed at a warning look from
the Emperor. "May your political contacts bring you rich bounty, General,"
Korath forced a pleasant face at the Merian Lord. General Inalai nodded and
turned back to the Star Palace, muttering, "Uncouth savage." "Pompous jackass,"
Korath murmured, only to look directly into the concerned face of Ladantine.

"Ur’Guard deserves more than to be dismissed so easily, Commandant," the
royal man's voice whispered quietly. "The Ur'Guard are popular among the common
folk, and have been receiving a much warmer welcome than the few Paladins that
go to the villages. I'm afraid that villagers have become much colder to the
troops I send on goodwill exercises, whereas once they would celebrate to see
Paladins come to their homes. I have been relying too much on Merians, Korath,
and it shows in the lack of unity throughout the Basin! I ask you this, if you
wish to make this world a better place: help me." At the Merian's somber mask,
Korath nodded slowly, asking, "Very well, Emperor, what is it you wish?" "A
number of things. You heard General Inalai: Dolph is a good fighter, but I do
not wish him to stretch his Paladins beyond their breaking point. Begin doing
some escorts for the Dwarven Kingdom, especially the emissaries for their
Angkrag Mining Concern. I know Ur'Guard has been suffering iron shortages
lately, Korath, and an armour endorsement deal with their corporations would
not only solidify our political support within the Kingdom, but provide your
people with a much needed source of material."

The orclach commander stiffened his back at this as he retorted, "Selling our
weapons and military experience is one thing, Emperor, but our people have
worked steel for centuries! We do not need to admit we need armour designs from
some stumpy throwbacks." Korath's voice dripped with the bitterness of a man who
was fiercely proud of tradition and race. Ladantine's voice was calm and
measured as he said, "My friend, I would not wish to sully the Ur'Guard's
reputation. I am talking about a partnership with Orerl Platemail. You trade
your lesser designs with them, and Ur'Guard will get the seed material required
to compete more vigorously in the free market. Business is war too,
Commandant," Ladantine ended with a gleam of triumph in his eyes as he watched
his words strike home. "You have a deal. But Emperor, we will need a strong
demonstration of your faith in us, not just taking the contracts you won't let
the Paladins take," Korath wearily negotiated, having waged a long uphill
battle against the political interests of Celest in the past. Ladantine smiled.
"You will have it, my friend. This I promise you on my throne." Korath smiled
ruefully. "May your Light shine eternal, Highness," he blessed Ladantine
quietly as he ripped a hole in reality, stepping back into another plane, and
home to Shallach Fortress.

INTERLUDE: COMMERCIAL, "GLADIATOR ARMOUR, UR'GUARD SPECIAL EDITION," BY ORERL
PLATEMAIL.
- Winner of Best Aetherwave Ad, Y542, as determined by Lusternian Association
of Aetherwave Broadcasters

(A somber military dirge starts playing, and two orclach can be heard
conversing in deep voices, in their native tongue)

Announcer (in a masculine, powerful voice): When something is important to
you...

(The younger orclach salutes, shouting "Shar Angarok!" as he sets out on his
vital mission.)

Announcer: Nothing can be left to chance.

(A swarm of crocodiles snarl with terrifying malice, and the warrior heroically
rushes out to meet them, cleaving the great reptiles in two with bloody swings
of his claymore as he barks out battle cries.)

Announcer: You require strength.

(Roaring jets of fire blaze overhead as the orclach can be heard dashing
through a volcanic environment, sprinting to avoid thunderous rockslides and
the explosions of lava-filled geysers.)

Announcer: You need to trust in the most reliable name available.

(The soldier is panting as his gait relaxes. He solidly raps on a thick wooden
door, which creaks open loudly as the martial music pauses.)

Announcer: Endorsed by the number one military machine in the Basin of Life!

(A high-voiced merian woman squeals, "Oh, he sent Delport choccies! Oh thank
you thank you thank you!" The embarrassed voice of the soldier, perhaps
strangled due to the embrace of the hyperactive merian, tells her it was simply
his duty as an Ur'Guard warrior.)

Announcer: The Shallach Ur'Guard proudly lend their heritage of strength and
power to the consumer, in the form of our new Gladiator Armour, Ur'Guard
Special Edition! As seen in "Warrior of Fortune!" Be a hero! Orerl Platemail is
a division of Angkrag Mining Concern. All rights reserved.

CHAPTER 3: Traditions Broken.

13th of Ashtar, in the 543rd year of the Imperial Empire. One day after the
declaration of the day and place for Project Cosmic Hope...

"How long have you been awake?" Gruvar frowned, staring at the young orclach
working the aetheric transceiver. The elder shaman was the Chief Medical
Officer of Shallach Fortress, which meant that in matters of health, his word
would overrule even Korath's except in times of war, and he turned two slanted
orbs of black disapprovingly at the bleary-eyed technician. "Hm? Sorry, sir,"
the newbie croaked out. "Captain Krangar asked me to keep monitoring the
traffic, some kinda, yunno, important announcement on the higher Imperial
channels is expected later today. Said the whole base would be need to be put
on alert, probably some kind of huge mission-" Gruvar stepped forwards with a
scowl as the worker's eyes fluttered shut. "Urlach's Hand, boy, we have an
abundance of techs. Go tell the Commandant that I've relieved-" "WAIT!" the
young technician sat up suddenly, face alert as he adjusted the transceiver
with a painstaking motion of his fingers, suddenly confident as Gruvar stepped
back with a knowing smile. The adolescent gasped in excitement as he muttered,
"Imperial code tags... Priority One Announcement... this is it, sir! Commandant
Korath! Sir, we've found it!" as he tapped his forehead, telepathically
communicating with Korath from halfway across the massive fortress. In
response, a loud, booming voice echoed over the Shallach communications grid,
"All forces, this is Commander Korath. All soldiers not on sentry duty or on
essential systems are required to report to Comm Room 2. This is an Orclach
Supreme Command Directive. Glory is arriving!" the orclach leader finished with
a confident enthusiasm. The technician's eyes glanced slightly over his right
shoulder as portals began opening, glowing wounds of aether releasing orclach
warriors into the communication center. The gathering of men and women shifted
in place, chattering as they fingered metal implements and wondered about the
battle to come. Finally, a red portal formed, as Commandant Korath and Senior
Technician Muja stepped through. Korath's bearing was kingly, armour buffed
until it gleamed like a star. Upon his back was a beautiful silk cloak of red,
bearing the insignia of the Great Hand, which was clearly reserved for formal
occassions. And Muja... what was the leader of the orclach technical staff
doing in a black dress? Whatever the reason, the shapely green-skinned woman
radiated power and beauty, neck muscles segueing smoothly into strong arms, and
her bosoms... The younger technician gulped and turned away. Thinking lustfully
about a superior officer had never led to anything good in the military. Muja
chuckled in a rich, throaty voice and grinned. "At ease, Technician. You've
found what the Commandant wanted?" The young greyskin nodded vigorously,
turning up the volume as Krangar barked, "Now quiet down, you lugs! This is
bloody important stuff, or the Commandant wouldn't have dragged us here!" The
room fell silent nigh instantly as Korath leaned next to the transceiver,
laying a thick bottle of darkwine next to it as he quietly said, "Re-route that
to the public grid, lad. Wouldn't want the soldiers out on sentry to be missing
this!" before relaxing backwards with a faint upturn of his lips. Beads of
sweat formed on the face of the slender orclach as he numbly adjusted some
switches, and a familiar, sonorous voice crackled to life over the comm grid...

"... do hereby proclaim, in recognition of merit and valourous acts, the
responsibilities of those entrusted with the defense of the Holy Celestian
Empire..." Emperor Ladantine's voice echoed over the Hall of Brotherhood in
the Imperial Temple of the Paladin Corps, as the elite soldiers finally hushed,
though their excitement did not relax one jot. The Day of Address was timed to
coincide with the knighting ceremonies of the newest gathering of Paladins,
giving out the new assignments for the coming calendar year. The reshufflings
of long-term duty rosters were greatly necessary, as elder Paladins took
pension to make way for the next generation, and skilled officers rose in the
ranks. Being declared Commander of a particular garrison, or other such honour,
was the dream of every Paladin. Not only did it confer recognition of hard work
and skill, but the position would prove invaluable in petitioning for noble
office. As a direct result, it had since become tradition in Celest for
large-scale assignments and promotions in the military to be held off for the
Day of Address. This year took on special significance, as the Emperor had
previously announced Project Cosmic Hope, and the Paladin who led the
expedition- indeed, even those Paladins selected for it- would become instantly
famous and recognized throughout the Basin. The young shining faces of the
recent graduates beamed with high spirits as they looked up to the great statue
of the first Lord General, Ledor Inalai, at the front of the room. The
thirty-foot tall rendition of the mighty Merian was forever immortalized in
stone as he held a slim longsword triumphantly above his head in its right
hand. In the later years since the statue had been built, the leaders of the
Corps had surreptitiously installed an aetheric transceiver in the mosaic
behind the statue's head, so that anyone listening to the sound would be drawn
to look at the statue's calm face. "In the Imperial Garrison of Dairuchi, the
following Paladin knights will be installed as officers: 2nd Lieutenant Min
Thunderaxe, 2nd Lieutenant Ajunta Nevalle..." The young cadets, newly
christened lieutenants on a public broadcast reaching homes throughout the
basin, pumped their fists in pride. Their friends hastily congratulated them,
scattered whooping echoing through the hall before it faded, as the Paladins
listened for their names to be uttered so that this scene could be repeated
across the hall. Lord General Inalai sat at the High Table in front of the
statue with his entourage, nodding with warmth to each individual Paladin as
his piercing blue eyes cut through the entire room. Inalai had a knack for
names and faces, and he believed that it greatly motivated morale to identify
any of his soldiers even after years of separation. He quietly whispered to his
second-in-command, the handsome Trill fighter Colonel Malin Bladewing, "So
excited, they are. Was it so long ago, that we were sent to patrol the Moors?"
The other man had chuckled softly, wings flapping as he remembered. "Patrol,
General? Is that what you tell people that month was?" his melodic laughter
played across his General's mind like a sublime song. "I don't know what they'd
find harder to believe: that we were ever Cadets, or exactly who dressed as what
to distract that one guard." Inalai's radiant smile warmed Malin's heart, and
the Merian leaned across to speak before he quickly said, "Not to mention the
Ewe Rider Incident... now hush, old friend, we'll need to pay special attention
to the Cosmic Hope announcement." They both turned in their chairs, feeling the
room fall absolutely silent as the receiver continued.

"In relation to the Cosmic Hope Expedition, the decision on who shall provide
succor and guard to Our Most Illustrious Self at the Stone of Truth in
Magnagora as we venture to the Supra Plane, has been granted to Commander
Korath and the Shallach Ur'Guard."

In Shallach Fortress, the remainder of Emperor Ladantine's announcement was
drowned out in a single great roar, shaking the fortress from basement to
crown. Giant warriors hugged and cheered like children having killed their
first wolf, and the technician at the receiver had kicked his chair over in
excitement, driving his fist up and down at the ground in exultation as he
leapt to his feet. Krangar was loudly cheering, punching his brother warriors
in the arm as he prepared to lead them in a war chant, while Korath and Muja
shared a happy look, reclining at the east wall. Everything had just changed.
If the Ur'Guard were on contract to defend the Emperor, it was a massive leap
in prestige that would serve them in all of their negotiations. Already both of
their minds raced with plans: expansions to the fortress, additional recruitment
and combat patrols- nothing was out of the question. Not any more. Their eyes
locked together as the room, and soon all of Shallach, resounded in harmonious
orclach chanting.

Meanwhile, in the Paladin Temple, soft weeping could be heard from a woman in
the back as the stunned faces turned to General Inalai, who looked like he had
been publically gutted by an executioner. Malin's voice quavered, "Dolph...
there must be some mistake!" as his eyes went wide. "No mistake," Inalai's
voice hollowly carried to the table in a hushed tone as he spoke, slumping back
in his chair as he stared at the ceiling. "I'm engaged to his daughter, and he
can't even tell me that guarding the Holy Emperor is no longer the domain of
the Paladins. Why doesn't he just geld me in front of the Princess? It'd be
kinder and less painful than having to explain this to the Corps." Recovering
as the Imperial broadcast finally ended, Inalai closed his eyes as he pushed to
his feet, looking out over the Paladins as his deep voice raised to carry
throughout the temple.

"Brothers and sisters, I won't trim this for you. The Emperor has not selected
us to protect him upon the Supra Plane, and it is a bitter cup we drink. But
now, my friends, is not the time to choke on pride! In what has happened, we
must discern a lesson, and resolve to work even harder, until the Empire once
again recognizes us as the true protectors of the Royal Family! This
disappointment does not take away from any of your accomplishments here
tonight: not the young ones given first assignment, nor those promoted, nor our
honoured veterans who retire to a well-deserved rest. Now go, all of you,
knowing that you have the approval and comfort of an entire people, and prepare
for your assignments like the soldiers we are." As Inalai slowly lowered himself
back into his chair, the crowd began to disperse, still shocked into quiet,
furious whispers as they advanced various hypotheses about Ur'Guard trickery
and slavish diplomatic efforts. And then Lord General Dolph Inalai leaned
forwards onto his elbows, head in his hands as Colonel Bladewing laid a gentle,
pearly-white hand upon his shoulder.