Our ancestors who would found the Thunderers came from Kaer Lek’chven, northwest of Throal. Many who had once been raiders
and riders sheltered within its walls, but barely five hundred survived by the time the Scourge was finally over. When the
kaer’s elemental clock had stalled for half a generation, the elders knew it was time to emerge and prepared the Ritual
of Opening. However, when they broke the door’s seal, a fearsome sight awaited them. There was no glorious sun or shining
blue sky dotted with clouds, as they had been told. Instead, the kaer’s dome resounded with mighty crashes from beyond
the doors, and bright branches of white lit the sky, while lines of water speared down like arrows.
After more than thirty generations of dimness and silence, our people were struck dumb by the fury of the elements. For endless
moments they remained in the kaer’s entrance, not knowing if the great storm meant that the Horrors had been victorious
and devastated the whole earth. They could see nothing but murky darkness, could smell only earth and water, could feel only
cold, damp wind washing over them. Some wept or howled in despair.
Then, as they watched, the skies parted and the roiling gray clouds broke, revealing a limitless black that shone with a hundred
thousand tiny flames that seemed to drive the storm away. A great, resounding clap of thunder shook the kaer, almost as a
herald of the power of the firmament, and brought the lamenting orks to silence. Almost immediately, our forefathers realized
they were seeing rainfall and stars, of which they had only read in the Book of Tomorrow. They knew that the stars
had only been hidden by the clouds, that they did not in truth have power over the storm. But the wise among them knew that
a deeper truth had been revealed in those awful moments of terror and the hope the stars had kindled. In the stars we see
the constellations, the Patterns of the Passions who guide the world and shape it, controlling everything from the force of
the lightning to the most loving touch of Namegivers.
They chose then the name Thunderers, for they claimed for their own both the power of the storm and the wisdom of the stars.
For more than forty years our people rode through Barsaive, living as raiders, for we remembered the ways of our ancestors
and looked with scorn on those who built houses or ploughed the ground as if they still lived in the kaer in their hearts.
We followed the great herds of deer on their migrations; we fought fiercely for our rightful spoils against any who would
oppose us, for the stars told that this was our time to grow strong.
And as we rode and raided and hunted, we did grow strong. We had few adepts, back in the kaers, but outside we welcomed any
ork in need so long as he agreed to follow our ways, and from those we learned much. Many of our strongest men and women found
that the ways of the beasts sang to them; they bonded with the wild horses of the Elvegyi Plains, so fierce that they had
survived the Scourge untouched by the Horrors—they lived and grew strong alongside us. Others learned the path of the
Warrior and Archer, the Troubadour and Weaponsmith, and those who traced the patterns of the heavens found themselves drawn
to Nethermancy or Wizardry. Our chiefs encouraged learning, for it was a time of becoming rather than doing.
Then, in one momentous year, a great light burned across the sky as the mother of the child who would become our Chief Zrack
Lone-Roar gasped in labor. We knew from this sign that Zrack Lone-Roar would bring great changes to our tribe.
Even as a child, Zrack screamed defiance of every constraint. He grew up restless, dissatisfied with tradition. His father,
Chief Gluthark Arrowshaft, recognized his son’s cunning when the boy lead his first raid against the settlement of Violetdale
when he was but eight. But Zrack’s cleverness went far deeper than simple good tactics. His black eyes saw everything,
and his curiosity was boundless. He learned the workings of the world—not only the easy patterns of sunlight on plants,
the passing of days and the ways of horses, but also the deeper intricacies of trade and the relationships between Namegivers.
And he saw that orks stood lowest in the eyes of others, and that our lives as raiders only confirmed them in their beliefs.
By shunning trade and taking what we needed, we had exiled ourselves from any true respect or power.
So when the constellation of Chorrolis crossed to lie side-by-side with that of Lochost, Zrack Lone-Roar saw the sign’s
meaning: we could trade with other Namegivers without loosing our freedom. Zrack called the Thunderers together almost forty
years ago and announced the new path the stars told us to follow: from then on, we would be a cavalry rather than raiders,
for we had the strength and wisdom to do so. We would receive coin and honor from others in return for protection. And for
this, other Namegivers would give us the respect our fierceness, skills, and swift minds deserve.
Though many Thunderers were shocked by the magnitude of this change, Zrack persuaded all to accept it, for the Passions gilded
his tongue and strengthened his arm. Blork would use us as a mighty weapon to fight for the freedom of all; Tranko would give
us strength over our enemies; Muvuul would bless us for protecting the innocent; and Grenkaklank would reward us for our hard
work. We would lose none of our passion, our ferocity—still would the Therans shake at our might, and still would we
make war with those who would do us harm, but now we would have discipline and honor above all others. Zrack gave us uniforms
to wear in place of our tattered leathers—green, to symbolize the bounty of the land, and gold to remind us of the power
of the stars. As years passed we fulfilled our duties with valor and pride; our strength grew and many learned to trust in
our might. Soon all Namegivers knew that the word of the Thunderers was as if chiseled in stone.
We take contract from any worthy, especially from Throal, because we appreciate King Varulus’ opposition to slavery,
and because the dwarf’s coin comes quickly and reliably. Save for our respect for contract, little else has changed
in our ways, for we still honor the old traditions and customs. We train our sons and daughters as soldiers rather than accepting
any menial who wishes to join our ranks as so many of the raiding tribes do. We give our children free choice in their destinies,
but many see the nobility of war; at all times more than a quarter of our number are in the saddle and ready for combat. The
rest contribute otherwise to our welfare—preparing food and drink, crafting clothing, tools, and weapons, caring for
children, and revering the Passions. Our entire cavalry numbers some 2,500 orks, of which some 650 are warriors.
Our current Chief, Titanstroke Greybeard, son of the mighty Zrack Lone-Roar, succeeded his father when Zrack was killed in
battle protecting a Throalic caravan in which rode the young Prince Neden himself. Titanstroke is in his mid-thirties, his
body strong and his mind sharp, though his hair has been iron gray since his young days. He is a powerful Cavalryman and Warrior
adept and has lead us bravely for a score of years. He has had three wives and sired a dozen children, all of whom share his
courage and strength.
We let our young decide for themselves if they wish to become Adepts, and every Adept of the tribe, of whatever Discipline,
makes himself available to the interested apprentice. Before beginning war training, cadets spend a week alone with each other,
allowing them to become friends before subjecting them to the difficulties and joys of working as one. Usually, the young
ones split naturally into groups of four to nine people whose talents and personalities blend well (though they may, like
any family, have differences and challenges with one another; no such group is a sea of harmony at all times, save in battle).
These groups, the cerri, receive a private instructor and train together from then on, separating only at times of
festival to see their families. They learn to think and work together almost as closely as a Cavalryman and his mount.
When its members are grown, the cerri become the base units of our cavalry, for their cooperation makes them astounding
warriors. Some cerri, however, are destined for greater fates, and if they prove themselves and the signs mark them,
they are allowed to journey on their own, sometimes far from the tribe, to make Names for themselves in the greater world;
these are often the legendary cerri who bring the greatest honor to the Thunderers. Naturally, many cerri choose
group Names, and if they are adepts, this tightens their mutual bonds to the point that many develop abilities and magics
available only to them.
Our tribe, unlike raiders, knows the value of order, from the patterns of the stars to the workings of a well-trained cavalry
troop to the worship of the Passions. I know many orks say that Passions should be worshipped only when the mood strikes,
but anyone who studies the ways of creation can see that the Passions designed everything in a great Pattern. They would not
have shaped the constellations to their images if they did not want us to follow the stars’ movement and act in accordance
with their leading.
Though we feel each Passion in us at times, just as all orks do, we also set aside holidays to worship each Passion when his
or her constellation is closest to the earth. We ask favors at those times as a tribe, using prayers of our ancestors which
were composed before entering the kaers so that they would not forget the Passions during the long years of darkness and quiet.
Many orks say that these practices constrain the Passions, but I have felt the Passions’ pleasure in my heart when I
recite the old words. And of course, we revel in the Passions’ touch no matter when it comes.
Few Thunderers become Questors, for closing your mind to all but a single Passion often creates madness. All Passions have
their place in the workings of the universe. To close yourself off from any is like trying to live with only a brain but no
heart, or for the earth to stay green with only sun but no rain. Only when a person’s gahad grips him so strongly
that he cannot live with it do we know that he must quest, for that Passion’s choice has already warned off the others.
Some of the famous cerri we have produced incude:
Etrokagash (Freedom's Call)—The cerri of our illustrious chief, Titanstroke Greybeard. I rode also with
Freedom's Call until I was crippled defending the town of Greenleaf. Of our brothers in arms, there are Lugral Num (an Archer
and Wizard), Agar'ku One-Eye (a Warrior and Cavalry Archer), Bitaga Sukufik (our beautiful Swordmaster and Elementalist),
Churgol Niandrok (a Cavalryman), Wadri Spikefist (a Cavalryman), and Rittik the Thrush (a Scout and Cavalryman). Together
we lead the Thunderers in many a battle, and Titanstroke still rides before us when the entire cavalry is at war, as is proper
in a great leader.
Visirsta’al (Star’s Light)—Haracha Hawkhunter, cousin and first wife to Titanstroke Greybeard, leads
this, the finest of the cerri. Though she is getting on in years, she remains a powerful Beastmaster and a fierce commander.
Chajij Kachelal (a Cavalry Archer), Kabjak Furrowbrow (a Warrior and Troubadour), Shu’thurul Esero and Ucotho Rog (both
Cavalrymen), and Aughl Nontuktla (a Weaponsmith and Wizard) make up the rest of the group. They are the pride of the Thunderers
and the most famous of all the cerri.
Morigorbaad (Ground Storm)—Ground Storm is the only cerri whose members all ride thundra beasts (of which
there are exceeding few in our cavalry). Haracha Hawkhunter’s twin sons by Titanstroke, Zracken and Varull, both Cavalrymen,
lead this cerri, whose other members include Dirtak Hideweaver (a Wizard), Kurunyha Pulog (a Beastmaster), Maharak
Bhal (an Archer), Ghita Itaran and Vkalpa Valorfist (both Warriors), Muda Ull (a Cavalry Archer), and Burra Unkorpung (a Cavalryman).
Tranko’ulvar (Tranko’s Flame)—This cerri has made a name for itself for honor and valor, despite
being made up of non-adepts, save for their leader, the Troubadour Yanag Talesinger (and it is highly unusual for a Troubadour
to be part of a cerri at all); its members are everyday orks trained as riders and warriors, but they are known for
their unswerving loyalty and determination to fulfill every vow to their utmost.
This year sees a new band of cerri being formed, some that might challenge their elders for courage and valor. The
signs in the heavens say this is a fortunate year, and great fates will come of it:
Blork’jvarr (The Hammer of Lochost)—The most varied cerri to be seen in some years, Blork’jvarr
is made up of Lukash Gralk (a Cavalryman), Erach Wayfinder (a Scout), Rhamoskell Urusk (a Troubadour), Unzija Ti'jad (a Cavalry
Archer), and Mirgriss Khull (a Nethermancer). This band shows strong bonds and may prove to be great—only the Passions
know for certain.
K’hrachgahl (The Shieldeaters)—A young band of orks too full of gahad for their own good, but a
fearsome group of warriors nevertheless. Muktar Chork (a Warrior), Nissen Steelblade (a Swordmaster), Berkaal Moonshadow (a
Scout), Prag Egroz (a budding Elementalist with a fondness for dangerous spells), and Chirtog Rahl (a Cavalryman) make up
its number.
Hrakullavas (Hrak’s Torches)—A boisterous cerri whose flashy showmanship has earned it some derisive
sneers but also some admirers. Four Cavalrymen—Gulangil Horsefriend, Ramidev Maan, Mengrril Undertusk, and Ayata Daktrup—make
up the core of the group; others include Num’rik Varlan and Ulama Fahmeng (both Cavalry Archers), and Houtarria Hokri
(a Beastmaster). Hrakullavas is also the only all-female cerri in recent memory.
Sheskmat (Swiftwind)—Lead by the Scout Hirak Two-Foxes, the Swiftwind cerri has shown itself a band of
great speed; though its five members are only lightly armed and skirmishers, they are likely to prove excellent messengers.
Ratya Stealshade (a Thief), Gorod Polsk (a Cavalry Archer), Durata Madgani (a Cavalryman), and Mullak Zuraga (a Wizard) make
up the rest of the group.
Murgusttarkch (The Hand of Night)—A small cerri made up of Naeg Steelglare (a Nethermancer adept), Girox
the Gray (a Warrior), and Keyvo Falgaj and Menung Giraksa (both Cavalrymen). The Hand of Night have a reputation for fearlessness
and, under Naeg’s leadership, a practical view of honor that has them follow the letter of the law, if not its spirit.
