Khorvath Who Slew a Thousand¶
Domains: Sun, War
When Khorvath, warleader for the Lightning orc clan set out with her warband of bloodrunners, they numbered less than fifty. When they finally arrived at the Heliopolis, seat of the pharaoh of Khemhara, they had grown to over two thousand orcs from over thirty orc clans, all eager for battle. Legends later swelled that number to ten thousand.
Upon their arrival, the bloodrunners found their prospective employer embattled and surrounded by enemies, the pharaoh's brother having raised rebellion against him. Principally due to Khorvath's help, the pharaoh's brother was killed and his army defeated. But the pharaoh died in the battle, and Khorvath found herself and her warband without a patron in an alien land surrounded by enemies fighting a war of succession.
"What do we do, warleader?" Her death captain asked.
Khorvath oriented herself and pointed northwest. "Home is that way. We march!"
Death Captain Voyrik's eyes went wide. "It's three thousand miles," he pointed out—and the journey to Khemhara had not been uneventful!
"Best get started," Khorvath said, and set off.
How long it took the bloodrunners of the Lightning to cross the desert is not well-attested. It took four or six months depending on which accounts you read, but even six months would make their march a legendary journey.
Opposed at every turn by the local noble houses and then eventually the desert clans who sought the bounty placed on Khorvath's head, the ten thousand grew in battle prowess as they demolished any enemy foolish enough to get in their way. Given the many tens of thousands of warriors the bloodrunners dispatched over the course of four (or six) months, it may well be that Khorvath's sobriquet was literal.
Success was a double edged sword. The more victories they earned in battle, the easier they were to follow. "Our enemies walk the red road," Voyrik once said, looking at the vast swath of blood they left in their wake.
"We have nothing to fear," Khorvath said. "These people fight for pride, or a bounty. We're fighting for our lives. All it takes is one good punch in the nose and they retreat." And indeed this proved true for many weeks.
Eventually three of the desert tribes allied themselves and this was a coalition that could take a few bloody noses without giving up. They cornered the bloodrunners in a ravine that led to a mountain pass. It was possible to navigate the narrow pass, but only two or three orcs at a time. It would take hours to retreat that way. And the three tribes blocked their way out.
Khorvath saw the way. She unwound her mother's hand wraps from her forearms and wrapped them around her own fists. The brown stains on the knuckles made Khorvath proud.
"I will take the best warrior from each of the 30 tribes," Khorvath pronounced, and word spread almost instantly. Within minutes, the thirty best warriors among the ten thousand stood with Khorvath. "We thirty will hold the pass."
Death Captain Voyrik, eyes wide, whispered Khorvath's name.
Khorvath removed her torque of leadership and handed it to Voyrik. "When you arrive home, give this to my son." She looked at the torque in Voyrik's hands. "Tell him my last thoughts were of him. And that it is my wish that this torque inspire him to great deeds."
The tale of Khorvath's Thirty is still popular among the orcs, though everyone listening understands the "three days of war" is pure fiction, as none of the thirty survived. It is nonetheless broadly taken as true.
Khorvath's Thirty bought the bloodrunners the time they needed to escape through the pass, and onward unimpeded.
By the time they reached the eastern side of the Myr, Khorvath's name was already a legend, and many bloodrunners wore her clan fetish as their talisman. Scaling the slopes of the Myr was not easy but as the orcs descended down the western face, through the clouds, and saw the endless sea of green that was the Great Wode, they cried out together "Cekana! Cekana!" The trees! The trees!
The ten thousand were not home, but they were home free. For this was territory held by their allies. The church of Khorvath Who Slew a Thousand spread quickly and now all orcs invoke her name whenever faced with a seemingly impossible task.
Khorvath, like most orc heroes, teaches the virtue of endurance. That great problems are often just many tiny problems in disguise and that by fighting each day as it comes, great battles can be won.
Khorvath Who Slew a Thousand would probably prefer to be remembered as she was in life—Khorvath Who Brought Ten Thousand Home, but even as one of the chief orc heroes, she has little influence over the way the people choose to remember her.
Voyrik gave his warleader's torque to her son, who grew to lead the Lightning first as warleader, then chieftain. He was a good ruler for the Lightning.