Order Amongst The Sands

[Samson Option 9652]

A dream was it, to see such a glistening black animal; horned and tripping itself as it rambled towards the camp. It appeared as a bull, with hair much like his own, jet-black and threaded, yet his was covered in sweat and Sauros was freshly bathed. It would seem it worked, toiled to arrive inside the camp, it's actions bared truth to the word it brought within a scroll it had carried; he grasped the horns roughly and gave it a smoothing motion to calm the beast. The thunderstorm rolling with it's many anvils anchoring it as it sprawled the sky of the plains beckoned Sauros to open the scroll. His eyes laid across distorted lettering, but he could make it out as that of the Orcs of Strigzgoi.

Reading it, he lifted his dripping head as rain streamed over his bony cheeks and were waterfalls upon his chest, a smirk of acknowledging arose; a blessing amongst the omens of the bull and the thunder and the grouping rainclouds pouring forth. The Kotansmani walking solemnly stop as such a contradiction to how the weather impressed them was shown and acquired, yet Sauros told them little and clicked his tongue for his steppe horse; beckoning the Jahvids to come with him. After mounting it, bare of no saddle, he trotted from side-to-side as the Jahvids mounted their desert horses and together headed swiftly into desert sands; towards Enismor with tufts of sand being dug from the horseshoes of a many people traveling.

Nearing the walls of Enismor, unfinished and leaving Sauros with a curt nod at the guards, thinking of how with a great many citizens, they've done little for their numbers. His steppe horse trots then relaxes as Sauros swings his left leg over and atop the cobble paths, paining him the texture of a road unkempt as much as the sight of buildings unshapely. To be honest, Sauros has had little patience, his kindness had superseded his anger that he held when he first besieged the unsightly settlement, yet even when freedom was given to Torren and the others; no tree blossomed under said liberties. He crosses the street, towards the port and his eyes gaze and widen at the sight of four Orcs bearing words already with Torren; Sauros frowns slightly after realizing Grom'gok was not among them.

Hearing the grunts, greetings, and calls of delight, neutrality, and curiosity at the sight of him, Sauros walks towards the group conglomerated and notices the Enismorians seemingly suspicious and worried; he turns to face the Orcs with an inquiring visage. The Rex stepped forth, heeding to start the conversation without pleasantries as Sauros bent his knees and sat cross-legged upon the grass and chuckling at the invoking about pleasantries; stating that he cared not to be a princely person as he was but a nomad. Rex Pok began by handing a redrawn map towards Sauros, Sauros shifting his shins forward as he reached out to receive it; quickly scanning over and noticing the lines. He runs his spindly fingers through his thinning goatee as Pok explains to him how the Gorkil land was made of the Northern Rim of Levanthusan lands, Sauros acquires that he knows of the Blackwood Legion and will request their moving south; smiling broadly as Pok acknowledges and agrees. Just before Sauros raised his hand to shoulder-height, wishing to speak of Enismor; Pok turns swiftly towards Torren Strongheart.

Hearing about how the Orcs agreed to leave Enismor in peace as they were a colony of Oren, Sauros was left jaw-dropped and incredulous at the sort of agreements he never heard of. Torren stumbled with his words, but Sauros's surprise quickly turned to curt anger as he sat there unaware of the dealings Enismor once made. His kindness... was slowly being superseded by his anger as memories of the Subudain Horde standing triumphantly a ways away from Enismor's brittle walls being felled by ballista bolt after ballista bolt; Sauros was encumbered mentally by the distraught secrecy being made naked to him by the Rex. Sauros turns unaware towards Pok as Pok and the other Orcs chime in that Enismor will be subjugated to Orcish rule and that the Subudai will remain safe and undeterred. Sauros shakes his head slowly as Pok names the tribute of "10 Diamonds and 5,000 minas" and is met with protest by Torren; but to no avail.

Torren looked to Sauros for help in the diplomacy, but Sauros felt betrayed; what good was moving North if his mercy was spent in squalor as he looked about the saddening settlement in it's clutter and misshapen structures and realizing his kindness was abused then and there. Sauros grimaces and refused to look back at Torren, but his anger had not superseded his kindness yet, and he chimed in finally. "Let us klomp, these Enismorians will klomp and attempt to lower the price, if not that, atleast a proof of honor; I too shall participate" and with that, the Rex's tusks shifted as he revealed the Orkish smile, alongside his Shatergoth and other Orcs and ceremoniously agreed and began naming the terms.

What came forth was a travel that the nomads, the Jahvids and Sauros, came to love whilst the other humans loathed as their legs ached. The riding of the Jabbernak was a rough one, the scorpion's plate armor-like scales jostling to keep in a unison around the endoskeleton as he skittered across the desert sands of the War Uzg as they sent forth their passengers to the Arena. After arriving, Sauros neared the railings and lent it his elbows as he admired the sight, chuckling with derision as one of the Enismorians called it 'beautiful' and was met with shouts and yells from the Orcs about the disrespect. Glazing his eyes over the symbols set in the centre, he began to walk down and bumped shoulders with the Orcs agreeing to klomp and parted towards opposite sides of the perfect circle of the Arena. Meeting distant eyes and observing movement, Torren acquired what the best plan was to be; whispering out of earshot from the Orcs as Sauros clicks his tongue in disapproval and surprise that Torren had not understood his comtempt for Torren.

Sauros bent his knees slightly, keeping his felt shoes spry atop the granules of sand as Jarkarll'Lur began to count down in Orkish; Sauros tracing his finely trained memory to remember the numbers 'One.. Two.. Three'. Sprinting lightly across the sands, he connects a fist with one of the Orcs and tries to throw more blows as the Orc stands tall and jabs at Sauros's side and causes him to trip off-balance, he slides a shin to brace himself as he faces sideways and observes Torren getting beaten. In that instant, his kindness was superseded, yet happiness was the result of his anger superseding as he sees Torren fall limp; the Orc snapping his attention back as he swings an entire arm and brushs Sauros off his legs and rolling in the sand. Trying to dodge more fists, he dodges and lifting himself up swiftly, he observes the Orcs grouping as the Enismorians lay panting and unconscious and grimaces. After a few minutes of trying to organizing himself and give a strong show; he was left bruised and laid bare across the sand.

The Orc who had caused him to fall lastly, gave forth a hand and lunged Sauros straight atop his legs and bearing his body's weight in that instance as he was stood up. The Rex stood erect as he motioned Sauros and Torren to come with him; entering the Goi they eventually did. The Rex's Palace stood stoicly, of sandstone and mortar as they entered, the Jahvid's eyes scanned the entirety as they always did amongst fine architecture; cultural architecture appealed to them greatly. As the Rex sat in his throne adorned, Sauros bent his knees greatly, lowering himself so he could feel the sandstone floor; rubbing his fingers and extracting the fine grains as he finally began to sit cross-legged. Torren stood motionless, yet his face bore an image of a pained man, groaning slightly as he tumbled forward and the Jahvids requested them able to carry him out of the Palace; leaving only the Rex, his retinue, and Sauros to themselves.

Sauros hears the final terms being spoken for Enismor, Sauros nodding and trading words of agreement. His anger spoke loudly as he invoked his words that Enismor were as the Orcs said, princely and wishful nobles only by their own testament. In his thoughts, he realized that his mercy had been fully abused, he speaks to the Rex about how he agrees that Enismor will be under the Rex's rule. He speaks of how his own nomads had fled North evading the stereotypes put upon his nomads, how his own were called ignorant, brutes, lackeys and how he desired to ensure his nomads survived and migrated North. Much to his relief, the Orcs sympathized, markedly noting that the Orcs had to face the same stereotypes. There laid across the palace were two people realizing they shared the same stereotypes, the same will to prove it wrong, and the same chagrin that despite every action to prove the stereotypes wrong; it was a fools errand. There... stood Sauros of the Subudai and Rex Pok'Ugluk of the War Uzg, in a peaceful serenity amongst the war-honorable Orcs and the Hordes of the Subudai.

An understanding between the Subudai and the War Uzg has been formed, Levanthus will shift it's border-lines upon knowledge of true Uruk land-holdings. Enismor as a City-State is given towards the Orcs upon the RP realization that Sauros was being made a victim to secret-information holdings. Didymo is to move south, within the elven week. The Blackwoods are shifting back to their original camp.

[KoTo 610]

[Pinned as requested by the OP.]