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| Orc Chief meets Orc Killer [P]; Private - Natalia | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Fri Oct 31, 2014 10:40 pm (449 Views) | |
| BlindOrc | Fri Oct 31, 2014 10:40 pm Post #1 |
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Brint stroked the short white beard on his face, his blind eyes going across the plains as night began to fall. Brint's orcs had grown in size, from three small tribes traveling together, two a single tribe comprised of five Chieftains, and one High Chieftain. Brint, the Blind Orc, was this High Chief. He was blessed with extraordinary senses, even though he was struck blind by a cruel trick, the spirit of the Wind had blessed him. With every breeze he could tell his surroundings, a click of his tongue told him everything around him for many yards. Brint had been stuck in a high chair at head of a massive line of fires, he wore a simple brown and white tunic, his buckler was strapped to his left arm, his handaxe strapped to his right hip. The axe itself was different, it seemed to be made out of a sharpened green crystal, but with it he could control the winds, summon lightning, and create deadly whips of wind to slice the throats of foolish enemies. Today though, was not a day of battle, but a day of glory, for today was the day they became one Tribe, the two newest groups to join his people worshiped a lion spirit called Naemus, the Lord of Strength, while the other group worshiped Gelten, the Tiger of Alacrity. These two tribes had been fierce rivals, they had lost most of the old ways and had made terrible names for their tribes, but now they had been beaten down by Brint, only to be brought into his arms so he could welcome them as part of the flock. Brint raised a cup and shouted, "Today my fellow orcs! We are One! We may not be invincible, but we have both Minor and Great Spirits leading us, we will keep recruiting orcs and gather our forces! We will become one people again!" The cries of 'Hail The Future King, Brintonious!' echoed across the plains, today they would feast, they had found a herds of wild animals. They even managed to make a short trip back to the forest, catching dozens of rabbit and deer, after all, they had to feed a tribe of six hundred battle ready orcs, and that was not even their full size! The Orcs had a secret camp deep in the mountains where the majority of their forces and their non-combatants rested. Brint had no doubt that their party could be heard from miles around, but during this joyous night, he would welcome even outsiders to join them. |
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| Wolf-Dancer | Fri Oct 31, 2014 11:02 pm Post #2 |
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The night was not young. Neither did it draw to a close. The black-skinned fae crouched among the bushes and tall grasses, hiding themselves from the terrible army that they observed in the distance. They were orcs: big, burly, mean, fae-eating orcs with violent temperaments and deadly weapons. They were hunters, it was true, but their methods were brutal and they saw themselves as superior to the People of the Rivers and Lakes; they saw them as little more than fish to be torn apart, cooked, and eaten. But the deep-water fae were not fish. They ate fish, but they were not fish. They were only twenty strong in this place, for their tribe was scattered almost two hundred strong from here to the river nearly a mile away. Most of those had already vanished from sight as well, and a good number of them had either reached the river or were nearing it. Only the elite warriors among them, the ones who had won many battles against orcs and other enemies in the past, had remained behind. They knew that they could not take such a massive force of orcs; even if every one of their men, women, and children were warriors, they would have been severely outmatched. But they could at least watch and find out what was going on. When it was safe to return for the meat and the hides that they had gathered this evening, they would. The tough hide of the buffalo that she wore was dark-brown and black, perfect for hiding upon the ground as the grasses swayed and the winds whistled. She quietly donned the armor that she wore and was handed her spear just in case they had to fight. The spear was a tool for hunting, not a weapon for war, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If it came to battle, the warriors would flee; if they could not flee, they would die protecting their people. The orcs were having some kind of a celebration. They raised their chieftains high into the air, treating them as one would treat the gods. The deep-water fae aged only one year for every ten that they lived but even the wisest among them were not gods. That would have been sacrilegious. The gods had been gone for a long time but that did not mean that it would do to disrespect them in their absence. Only a few had done so, and they had been silenced through trial by combat; now they grumbled only to themselves when they thought no one was listening. Although the deep-water fae weren’t the kind of people to impose their culture upon others, neither did they feel that orcs deserved to live. Too many of them had been slaughtered by the foul green-skins to trust or endure their presence. But against such a force as this, what choice did they have? Their people would have to find a new home if this was to be the place of settlement for these orcs. Even rallying all of the tribes that they could find would not have been the thing to do, for that would take too much time and effort; beside that, despite the presence of a great many elite warriors, the fae were not soldiers. They were hunters, gatherers, fishers, and traders. And so the small force of warriors remained quiet and hidden, watching the orcs. Hopefully they would move on, and soon. Talia wasn’t interested in a bloodbath and neither were the others. |
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| BlindOrc | Fri Oct 31, 2014 11:45 pm Post #3 |
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It was faint, but the rustling of something that wasn't grass hit Brint's ear. He turned his head and looked, his sightless orbs did not see them, but he grasped the hilt of his axe, changing the direction of the wind with a mental command. He could smell them now, he rose slowly, the orcs were celebrating and focusing on cooking, Brint simply took a large basin of wine and several small cups. When asked what he was doing, he told them simply, "I enjoy the cool night air, please continue, I will be back, possibly with dinner guests." With that Brint walked into the longer grass, unlike most orcs who had colors between brown and green, he was pale. He sat down and took out the tray of cups, and slowly began to pour himself cup after cup of wine. His milky white orbs looked directly at Natalia. He motioned for her to come forward as he spoke, "I hope you will not attack us, unknown tribe. We have only come here to subjugate the orcish tribes in the area and join them with our own. As we have just gained our fourth and fifth tribes, we are holding a grand feast. Would you care to sit and talk? It has been a long time since I had company during my night drink." He took a small sip from his own glass, his ears tuned to every minor movement, every rustle of the grass, even every breath was easily heard in his head. Brint gave a disarming smile, he was different from most orcs, he was thin, his head bald, the only hair he had was a short well trimmed beard. He simply waited, knowing if they attacked, he would bring the spirits wrath down upon them. |
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| Wolf-Dancer | Fri Oct 31, 2014 11:57 pm Post #4 |
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The orcs knew they were there. Now was the time to flee. Now was the time to take out this lone orc and make their way back to the river, gathering what they could along the way. Their ebony flesh would conceal them somewhat in the night but they were not ready for battle - not a battle of this magnitude. It was true that a small force such as this could take down a large army of orcs in a day…but five armies? Not only was that an unstoppable force, it was the sight of madness incarnate. But when the orc invited the fae to drink, they knew that a trick was at hand. For what purpose these orcs sought to deceive them, they knew not. But it was not the orc way to poison their enemies with cups; they were more likely to poison them with arrows and spears, and that was assuming they didn’t simply behead their enemies or tear them limb from limb or flay them alive or rip their arms off and beat their enemies to death with them or scalp them or… They had heard the stories. They weren’t about to trust this orc, regardless of his pale flesh. Still, it would not have done any good to flee at this point. They had a bad feeling about this, all of them. The others remained hidden and the one lying next to Talia kept her spear for her but Talia herself…Talia rose to confront the orc. She couldn’t properly call this one a greenskin; still, an orc was an orc. Its eyes were blind but that didn’t mean it couldn’t give orders. It was said that if an orc lived long enough to bear scars, it was strong enough to command others. “I suppose even orcs need to eat,” she said, keeping her voice only just loud enough for the orc immediately before her to hear. “But we are not fish for your spears, nor pawns in your conquest. For what purpose do you invite us to drink?” |
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| BlindOrc | Sat Nov 1, 2014 12:21 am Post #5 |
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Brint looked at her and shook his head, "I don't even know you people. We entered the plains a few days ago, we subjugated two large orc tribes. I had no intention of waging war here, or waging war at all if I can help it." Brint was very well spoken for an orc, there was no hint of crude speech or slang, not even the slightest accent, he simply drank another cup and refilled it. He closed his eyes and felt the wind stir, "It is a time for celebration for us, for you see, I have a dream. A dream that the orcs can gather under one banner, and finally gather together in the mountains in a mighty city for all of us, so-called, monstrous races. Once an orc gains five tribes under his control, he is given the title of High Chieftain, which is what I just obtained today." He motioned for her to sit and offered her a cup, "Sit and drink for a bit. Tell me why your people glare at us from the shadows. As I said, I am new here, I was raised in the mountains to the far north, which is where we will head back to in a few days, but for now we will wander the plains, searching for more orcs to battle and join our tribe. Ah, right, forgive me, my name is Brintonious No-Sight, High Chieftain of these Tribes. And you are?" First be courtesy, that was his thoughts, show them you mean no harm, and perhaps they will decide to talk rather than fight... for if they decided to fight, Brint could easily hold them off until reinforcements arrived, but he did not budge, he did not lay his hands on his axe, nor did he move to tighten his buckler to his arm, he just waited for the woman's explanation. |
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| Wolf-Dancer | Sat Nov 1, 2014 1:11 am Post #6 |
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“Not very orc-like,” she remarked after he said that he was not here to wage war. That was what orcs were good at, after all: fighting, dominating, killing and maiming without regard for such petty things as morality or the sanctity of the circle of life. They cared only for death. Her people had born witness to orc-wrought atrocities more than a few times in their long and storied history, and several tribes had fallen to their malicious need to ravenously feast upon anything that wasn’t an orc. But when he said that he wished to unite all orcs under a single banner, a chill ran down her spine. It was possible that she was visibly shaken, for such an army could annihilate the whole of Imythess. That would be a conquest that even the cannibalistic Skane could not have imagined, Talia was sure. Skane had once claimed that he had conquered and eaten his entire tribe, and yet he was always the first to flee when the tide turned against his so-called “underlings”. He was a brutish coward, nothing more, and such was the fate of any orc party that dared to stand against the People of the Rivers and Lakes. Against such a force as that of which this orc now spoke, however - it would be all that the deep-water fae could do to survive. They would become the cowards then, for they would have little choice in the matter if they wished to survive. They would turn and fight if cornered but they weren’t foolish. She forced her muscles to relax a little, though it was difficult. Brintonious, he called himself. It was far too glorious a name for him, or so he made it seem. But he was blind, so perhaps there was some truth to the old tale that only orcs without scars could be ruled. Then again, he was apart from his tribe and attempting to drink with his prey. Pale or not, he was an orc. No matter his mannerisms, he was an orc. “At a word, I can have you struck dead or my people can be gone long before your people reach you and long before you reach me,” she told him. “And I doubt that the mages in Striberg would let your people pass so casually by.” She indicated the force in the distance with her head. “That is not a force for peace, but for war. What trust can be garnered by one with such a force behind him?” |
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| BlindOrc | Thu Nov 6, 2014 12:34 am Post #7 |
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Brint slowly started to draw his axe, but he did not get up from his sitting position. He swung the flat of the axe, the wind that came from it sliced off the tops of the grass and he grinned as he put it away, "My axe is a conduit for the spirit of the wind, Anuri, who has blessed me with Echolocation. As for killing me... if I died, your tribe would be slaughtered. The Seers of Anura would find your kind through location spells, they would destroy and pillage everything in their path, for you see, I do not wield my power to cause fear, nor do I rule through it." He took another drink, appreciating the wine before speaking again, "Every orc tribe is different, I have heard the orcish tribes of the plains are particularly savage. I am here to bring them back to the old ways, eating only flesh of non-sentient animals, and only fighting when there is no other choice. As for the officials of Striberg... why wouldn't they allow me to take residence in the mountains to the south west? Especially since the United Monstrous Races of Imythess Army participated in the last White Queen's war. My orcs and our alliance with the Bugbears, goblins, and even a few of the more intelligent trolls, lead several scouting missions and invasions into the mountain strongholds made by the Ice Queen's men. You see, Striberg would welcome a new ally, especially if it means all those nasty orcish tribes went from Raiders, to Border Guards." Another cup of wine was downed, but he still did not feel drunk, so he kept on talking as he poured himself another cup, "Miss, you seem to assume all orcs are like the orcs you met. You are probably even holding back racist terms, hoping not to offend me so I won't call my people into combat. There is no need for that of course, I wish to come to a mutual understanding, and if you know of any orcish tribes, I would be willing to invite you to our feast in exchange for information. As I believe it would benefit both of our people if we did not become enemies, friends might be to much for you to accept, but a non-aggression treaty of sorts would be acceptable yes?" His people would be moving into the mountains south of Striberg, he doubted that the officials would even care, not even the dwarves worried him, his people were forbidden from attacking the dwarves or caravans of any kind, but were encouraged to capture raiders or wild worg packs. Anything to make the mountain passes safer, after all, they would become their own trade routes in the future. |
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2:37 PM Jul 11

