Any person heading out of the east gate would be immediately catch sight of a heavily battered orc lying on the grass, more precisely between the street and the river. His appearance could even be a shock to the person.
The beast is fearsomely large and brawny, green-skinned, and his face naturally creased. His yellow jagged teeth are constantly beared, but the creature could give absolutely no threat in his powerless posture. His dirty plate armor is crammed with deep clefts and cracks, some parts even shattered, especially one shoulder pad which is totally wrecked into small pieces that lie about on the ground. His chest is drizzled is blood which bleeded through the armor's holes, and a notible deeper wound lies on his exposed shoulder, a small area of grass around it totally drenched in orcish blood.
His slow breath is tetchily loud and unpleasant, but his eyes are closed, only twitching slightly at times. About whether he is asleep or not, that is unsure. One thing is known. Anyone approaching him would easily sniff his noxious and nauseating stench, even from a few meters away.
For hours he lies helplessly there, no energy at all to do anything except for respiring. Vulnerable and defenseless, it would be very possible for anyone to do almost anything with the orc, who, despite his nature, could be seen almost pitiful.
An eye-catching beast just out of the east gates.
Moderator: Gamemasters
Once again returning from her investigations at the southcoast, a tiny woman, dressed in dark rags crosses the bridge to the south, heading further upward to the east gate.
Passing the Rothman-memorial, she hesitates a moment as she notices the strangely known stench..
Looking around, pondering, she suddenly became aware of the motionless body.
Whispering to herself, she moved closer slowly.
"Oh my..*she giggled coldly* Finally gone to Chee..eeEH..."
Interrupted by the incoming perception of the still moving chest, her movement froze.
A hand stole to the hilt of a dagger.
Weighing possibilities, the person relaxed, and sneaked closer.
Even her vinegar soaken bandera could not keep the overwhelming aura completely away.
Towering above the charred remains, awareness to changability of sizes crossed a mind.
Wandering the nearly motionless body, two burning sparks vanished from a face that smoothed from a broken womans harsh refuge
to a girls grief belingered one.
A blade stole from its scabbard, and cut through leatherstraps, led by precise hand, to free the flesh from its now useless shell.
A girl fetched water.
A needle began to drive its path through skin which could have also given a lot pairs of nice new shoes.
She whispered it to him, how she would peel off that nice tough material from his pork,
how she would dye it in a lighter green, how she would love to cut the fitting pieces from him.
Another day.
He had not earned the honour to be at her feet, yet.
The sun peeked over the horizon, as she looked on the done work.
No pairs of orcen-boots but a living beeing.
A girl pulled out her last vial, and drop by drop, fed it into the, now not so hungry, mouth.
She put the empty glassen flask to his hand
and climbed the eastern tower.
Passing the Rothman-memorial, she hesitates a moment as she notices the strangely known stench..
Looking around, pondering, she suddenly became aware of the motionless body.
Whispering to herself, she moved closer slowly.
"Oh my..*she giggled coldly* Finally gone to Chee..eeEH..."
Interrupted by the incoming perception of the still moving chest, her movement froze.
A hand stole to the hilt of a dagger.
Weighing possibilities, the person relaxed, and sneaked closer.
Even her vinegar soaken bandera could not keep the overwhelming aura completely away.
Towering above the charred remains, awareness to changability of sizes crossed a mind.
Wandering the nearly motionless body, two burning sparks vanished from a face that smoothed from a broken womans harsh refuge
to a girls grief belingered one.
A blade stole from its scabbard, and cut through leatherstraps, led by precise hand, to free the flesh from its now useless shell.
A girl fetched water.
A needle began to drive its path through skin which could have also given a lot pairs of nice new shoes.
She whispered it to him, how she would peel off that nice tough material from his pork,
how she would dye it in a lighter green, how she would love to cut the fitting pieces from him.
Another day.
He had not earned the honour to be at her feet, yet.
The sun peeked over the horizon, as she looked on the done work.
No pairs of orcen-boots but a living beeing.
A girl pulled out her last vial, and drop by drop, fed it into the, now not so hungry, mouth.
She put the empty glassen flask to his hand
and climbed the eastern tower.
For a long moment, the orc still remained silent, except for noise puffs of his breath which broke that stillness. He showed absolutely no reaction as his dented armor was taken off. It was no filled with dried blood, as was his chest that still beared various gashes. These slashes were clearly caused by a sharp blade, a blade that penetrated through his armor and his tough skin.
As the personage worked with the needle, he still was quiet, until suddenly, his snorted vehemently, much like a wild boar. He swayed his head left and right, restless due to the pain he was feeling. His eyes stayed shut for a longer while, and he did nothing more but grunt repeatedly, them growing fainter with each one.
He soon learned the intentions of the person, and posed no further motions. He strongly endured the suffering while she worked, and did not reject the contents of the given vial. Rather, he gave a push to gulp down the liquid. His eyes only came to open at the moment she left. Catching a quick glimpse of her, a sense of doubt quickly filled him, as the figure's height created an image of a familiar individual.
Not caring to do anything else and with no word blurting out from his mouth, he drove his attention elsewhere, where his eyes closed again. He didn't dare to stand up for now, so he simply settled for a further rest.
As the personage worked with the needle, he still was quiet, until suddenly, his snorted vehemently, much like a wild boar. He swayed his head left and right, restless due to the pain he was feeling. His eyes stayed shut for a longer while, and he did nothing more but grunt repeatedly, them growing fainter with each one.
He soon learned the intentions of the person, and posed no further motions. He strongly endured the suffering while she worked, and did not reject the contents of the given vial. Rather, he gave a push to gulp down the liquid. His eyes only came to open at the moment she left. Catching a quick glimpse of her, a sense of doubt quickly filled him, as the figure's height created an image of a familiar individual.
Not caring to do anything else and with no word blurting out from his mouth, he drove his attention elsewhere, where his eyes closed again. He didn't dare to stand up for now, so he simply settled for a further rest.
Tiredness crept into her mind more and more, as she sat high on that tower, a short bow on her lap.
Strange images passed before her eyes, patches in remembrance of soon three years on the isle..
Pictures of how the strong made the weak suffer.
The silent voices arouse further, just like the sun climbed the skies.
They demanded a share for their abscence.
Athinking, the girl faded, and the woman reappeared.
She became aware of the pain and maybe death, she would have caused in the future, by only one single action of mercy.
A hand reached for an arrow.
He would be easy prey. Motionless. Weakened.
So many sufferings she would prevent..
Pictures sneered of how the weak had to pay back, in treachery.
The girl started to yell agonic, but there was no one to hear.
A hand trembled.
The woman cried a single tear, and the silent voices burst out in laughter.
But the descision had been made.
A trembling hand unfastened the bow, and a body found, astumbling, the way towards the ladder downwards.
The autumns leaves where chasing each other through the streets of this, mostly unforgiving town,
and another body lay there,
in the grass,
breathing.
Strange images passed before her eyes, patches in remembrance of soon three years on the isle..
Pictures of how the strong made the weak suffer.
The silent voices arouse further, just like the sun climbed the skies.
They demanded a share for their abscence.
Athinking, the girl faded, and the woman reappeared.
She became aware of the pain and maybe death, she would have caused in the future, by only one single action of mercy.
A hand reached for an arrow.
He would be easy prey. Motionless. Weakened.
So many sufferings she would prevent..
Pictures sneered of how the weak had to pay back, in treachery.
The girl started to yell agonic, but there was no one to hear.
A hand trembled.
The woman cried a single tear, and the silent voices burst out in laughter.
But the descision had been made.
A trembling hand unfastened the bow, and a body found, astumbling, the way towards the ladder downwards.
The autumns leaves where chasing each other through the streets of this, mostly unforgiving town,
and another body lay there,
in the grass,
breathing.