A lithe, thin orc softly pads through the desert, his figure, though seemingly fragile, distinctified by orc traits. Rough vale green skin, the small tusks, darkbrown eyes and shoulderlong hair, made up of many little braids. His "armor" but made of cloth, with strange runes embroided upon it.
In his hands he holds two ceremonial daggers. Rough, orcish daggers, yet sturdy and powerfull of build. And suddenly he stops, upon a place without any significant importance. He sheaths the daggers, takes some herbs from the pouch to his side, and spreads them out over the all-abundant sand. The herbs are of many colors: red, yellow, blue and even white. As he seems satisfied, and his herbs all out, he takes up some sort of starting position. Left leg lifted in the air, and the hands ready for action, daggers already gripped tightly in their lithe fingers.
And so the dance begins, the orc swiftly and with amazing grace making the ceremonial movements along his herb bed. The air seems to pick up a little, and some of the lighter herbs begin to swirl in the winds, as the orc picks up speed. The cloth sways along with the recurrent winds, and the braids seem to dance on the dance's rhytm.
And as such celebrates Nefram, shaman of a small tribe, the god of the Hunt. Malachin.
The dance of the god of the hunt
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