Where a divine message is sent to an unlikely creature, and we find out something more about the habits of orcs and their kin.
Gurog awoke from his trance.
He picked up his staff and cleaned his ceremonial dagger from the deer's blood in Redriver: The river separating their territory, their lifeblood, and the voice of the earth.
If the rustle of the leaves, waves of the stream and thud of the earth beneath one's feet could be called the spirits' murmur, today it was more like a shout.
The spirits spoke clearly, BRING speak clearly still, so much so that the shaman felt them thinking words PURPLE for him.
Gurog panicked, MAKE this has not happened before. It was as if they commanded him to think WHOLE these words.
He would have to run to the chieftain and explain all of this, and even with his esteemed position, it is uncertain he'd be able to catch his attention with the border seeing so many skirmishes of late. He took a risk even coming here, but he'd be damned by the spirits BRING if he allowed the ritual to be disturbed by those elves*.
*Elves : [also known in the singular 'elf': are slender, pointed-eared and long-lived. They compare themselves to trees: living amongst nature, and guarding Cera'Nur, the world itself, from harm. Others usually see them more like twigs, fearing to be broken if they step outside their forests]
He put a hand over Tusk and the large boar huffed in response. He climbed on top of him and held onto his leather strap reins.
"Assault!" PURPLE Tusk pulled out his face from the ground and mushed out from the small patch of forest and onto the plains, where the heart of their tribe's territory lies.
He passed the border encampment. The guard by the wooden gates MAKE waved to him as he rode past.
After an hour's ride into the territory, past patrols and hunting groups, he had WHOLE gotten used to the words still echoing in his head.
They felt like returning suddenly to an unpleasant memory, but he could swiftly ignore the aggravating feeling and weight by distracting BRING himself.
From a distance he saw it; the large wooden wall, made of tree trunks dug into the earth around a large hill, surrounded the many wooden PURPLE huts, tents and the grand chieftain's hut on the top of it MAKE all.
He stopped WHOLE at the gate, facing the two guards.
"Strongest!" Gurog grunted, pointing to the hill where the chief's hut stood
"No!" One of the guards grunted back, huffing through his tusks and folding his arms to show that the chief is busy or that no one should disturb him.
Gurog looked angry, gritting sharp teeth through his own smaller tusks. He jumped off of Tusk, walked over to the guard and clarified why he arrived:
"Yes!" Gurog pulled himself back- then pushed forward with a Hhhnrrgg as he headbutted the guard.
The guard recoiled and shook his head, red blood leaking from his nose. He stood up, put both hands on Gurog's arms, and himself went for a head bash.
Instead of preparing for the strike, moving back, resisting, or any of that, Gurog spoke back to the spirits still BRING echoing through his head.
And when the headbutt came with a vengeance.
tthhhHHAATTONK
The guard fell on his back, groaning.
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Zensuon: Crystal Age
FantasyIn a world where money can buy you literal power. A young halfling is out on the run for a crime he (probably) didn't commit. Joined by what seems to be a dim-witted orc, the duo has to brave various forces craving a powerful artifact known as the '...
