You thought seeing the orc village in person would be interesting. It was for five minutes, but you've now been sitting here in the tall trees watching the orcs mill about their huts, loosely scattered about the clearing, for hours. Frankly, other than the extremely primitive nature of the whole thing it is not much different from certain backwater villages you've traipsed through on the Mainland. The orcs go about their business, which is either carving, wood-working, skinning, washing, cooking, grunting, wrestling, sparring, weaving, or your favorite, fucking. Thankfully they don't do it out in the open, but they definitely do it loudly. Roaring grunts and screams heard easily through their boar-hide and deer-hide tents pierce any possibility for silence in the community.

The women are all very big too. Most are taller than Dolah, which is slightly discomforting. Given armor and some weapons, they may be able fighters too, if not as capable as their male counterparts. That might boost the number of combatants from around 20 to around 40 or 50 if they were desperate enough.

The children play, mostly acting like merely rowdier children than you see on average. They also wrestle and fight, but do it in a much more playful manner. Most of the children are that subdued green color that you see on most of the adult orcs, but some possess that oddly lime-green color that Rowe mentioned yesterday about the visiting orcs. Oddly, none of the adult orcs in this village possess that lime-green coloring to their complexion.

The goblins sit in their slave pens, passively living and expending as little energy as possible. This contrasts heavily with the almost vivacious dedication you see Talker, the male human you are meant to rescue, go about tending to that garden way in the back of the tribe. Whatever they're growing has very large, leafy-green stalks and takes up a lot of space. You don't see more than fifteen or twenty planted in the ground.

The garbage piles seem an odd sight, simply dumped in the middle of camp. They consist of odd assortments of junks, from broken-looking clubs to blunted axes to fruit peels. An elder male orc, which Rowe had pointed out was the tribal shaman, meanders through camp with the help of a walking staff, conversing with other members of the tribe and every once in a while searching gingerly through the trash piles before pulling something out to take back to his smaller hut.

You've been watching the boring every day lives of orcs since ten in the morning. Avoiding the patrols of the lookouts has been surprisingly easy, the orcs most likely confident that anything slipping past them would be running into a quick death. Rowe sits to your left on the same large branch as you. Kyra is perched on the other side of this massive tree, a bit higher up than you two. All of you have settled into a tense silence, breaking it only to eat to maintain your strength as you wait for something to happen.

And then it does. Walking out of the biggest hut in the center most area of the village is the Chieftan. He's gigantic, just as Rowe had said. Armed and armored with some amalgamation of metallic plates. He drags behind him, by the hand, a small, naked, human woman. Her matted, brown hair clings to her face. That's Speaker then. He moves to the central bonfire in the camp and brings her with him. He begins to . . .

Your knuckles go white as the death grip you keep on your shortbow intensifies. Rowe must have noticed the change in your demeanor because she reaches a hand over to squeeze your shoulder.

“That's her fate for the rest of her life if you do something stupid and get yourself killed.” she whispers to you. Yeah, yeah she's right. You take a deep breath. A burning hot rage makes you stupid. Its the cold hate that helps. You look down to calm yourself.

“You never saw something like this before? In the war?” she asks you, looking puzzled.

You shake your head while looking down. “Death and violence, but there weren't many civilians in our theater. Neither side took prisoners.”

“Happened all the time on our side.” You look over to her, concerned. She registers the unasked question and answers. “No. Never me.” She looks back towards where the Chieftan is. “Never me.” To her credit, Speaker doesn't make any noise. Thank The Great Will for that. The chieftain makes plenty, however. “Something I realized, fighting in the Sfar forest.” Rowe begins talking again. “Seeing someone in agony doesn't do much if that's the first time you really see them. You need a proper baseline to see the difference. Relativity.” She makes a gesture with her hand to signify distance. “The greater the difference, the better it is.” Her eyes seem glued to the Chieftain. “I love watching their faces, when they're like this. Absolutely happy.”

>Watch the Chieftain's face
>Keep your eyes averted

>>44410328
>Watch the Chieftain's face

>>44410328
>>Watch the Chieftain's face

Writing!

File: Orog.jpg (69 KB, 560x531)

69 KB JPG

You take one more breath to psyche yourself up for it and then you look at him. Stringy, greasy black hair runs down the back of his head. He's quite ugly too, moreso than the other orcs that surround him. He has odd facial deformities and a pock-marked face. He has beady little green eyes and he looks about as pleased as a hog eating shit. You smile a bit in spite of yourself.

“He thinks he's invincible.”

“They always do.” Rowe looks over to you. “Got a picture of him in your head.” You do. You nod your head yes. “Good. Alan, tonight we're killing that orc.”

Yes you are. Once he's finished he gathers six of his warriors. You're too far from the camp to hear the words, but once he's done brow-beating them they gather their weapons and leave, askew of where you watch them. You look to Kyra and she nods her head, slinking off to shadow them. They had javelins and greatclubs, and a net. Most likely hunting animals rather than sapients like the other ones. They won't be prepared to encounter you this deep in their own area.

You and Rowe trail the group of them from the trees. You've finally been able to put some of those climbing tips you picked up from her to good use. You've got the hang of it down, although you are much less sure-footed than Rowe is. Regardless, you're able to move from tree to tree rather easily, especially with your new ability to slow your fall long enough to leap from one branch to the next.

You follow them for a good half hour without them noticing you three. Rowe gives you a signal that means she's ready to take them out. You're far enough away from the village now that the orcs there won't hear what you're about to do. You unsling your shortbow and aim for the one in the back. Rowe aims at the one in the front. Kyra, although you have no idea where she is, is in position to move in once you and Rowe soften them up.

Rowe looks at you. You mouth the count together.

1 . . .

2 . . .

3!

Roll me 2d100, best of 3.

Rolled 45, 37 = 82 (2d100)

>>44410937
Ez

Rolled 11, 92 = 103 (2d100)

>>44410937

Rolled 77, 47 = 124 (2d100)

>>44410937

Rolled 21, 20 = 41 (2d100)

>>44410937
GREAT WILL BLESS US

Writing!

>>44411003
great will ain't nuttin' but hoes and tricks

The two of you loose. Rowe's arrow pierces the neck of the one in the front.

Yours lodges itself into the brain of the rearguard. The ones in the middle, still surprised by the death of their point man do not notice Kyra slink around from a tree behind them and stab her katana up through the spine of the one farthest back.

As they turn to face her, you and Rowe have already moved to the second phase of your attack. Rowe makes a gesture and you watch as she puts her hand to the tree whose branch she is standing on. You notice the glowing light emanate from her hand as the foliage the remaining three orcs are standing on begin to wrap around their legs, holding them in place. You Grease the weapon of the one who is able to dislodge himself first. His great club goes sliding out of his hand as he goes to swing it. Dumbfounded, he dies stabbed through the heart with a stupid look on his face. The last two, still unable to pull themselves out of the roots holding them down are felled quickly by two more arrows from yourself and Rowe.

Six dead orcs.

“16 left.” Kyra says simply.

Rowe looks to you. “Alright then, we grab the others and bring them close. Then how do you want to handle it.”

>We try to remain stealthy
>We go in hard

AND

>Any particulars you'd like to establish about your battle plan (write-in)

>>44411288
>We try to remain stealthy
As long as possible. the more we take out without a fight the better.

>>44411288
>We try to remain stealthy

>>44411288
Entangling roots. A classic.

Writing!

>>44411288
>Kyra slink around from a tree behind them and stab her katana up through the spine of the one farthest back.
Nothing personnel

“Let's try to remain stealthy. We're still outnumbered 2 to 1 right now. We keep this up and maybe we can overwhelm the remaining ones quick enough to keep the civilians controlled.”

Rowe nods. “I'll go back and grab the others and then when I'm close enough, I'll tell you we're in position.” You nod and cast a quick message spell on her. That should last long enough. She waves goodbye and the two of you remaining start weaving your way back towards the village.

Kyra moves to you. “Look-outs first. Take them quiet, the chance of this being smooth goes up.”

You have to agree with her there. Last you saw them, one was in the trees and one was on the ground on the opposite side.

>Take the one in the trees
>Take the one on the ground

AND

>Take them out normally
>Cast Invisibility on yourself
>Cast Invisibility on Kyra
>Cast Invisibility on both of you

Either way, roll me 2d100, best of 3. First is for stealth. Second is for the attack

Rolled 1, 69 = 70 (2d100)

>>44411682
>>Take the one in the trees
>Cast Invisibility on both of you

Rolled 69, 99 = 168 (2d100)

>>44411682
>Take the one on the ground

>Cast Invisibility on both of you

>>44411682
>Take the one in the trees
We got the bow or the climb skills.
>Cast Invisibility on both of you

Good job Wren, Let me see if I can pull a 100 out of my ass.

Rolled 22, 21 = 43 (2d100)

>>44411682
>>Take the one on the ground
>>Cast Invisibility on both of you

Rolled 16, 13 = 29 (2d100)

>>44411720
>>44411682
And I forget to actually do the roll...

>>44411720
Eh change this one to
>ground
to tie break.

>>44411689
You done gooffed son.

Rolled 84, 22 = 106 (2d100)

Check my 100

>1
>99

Well good news is, you definitely killed him!

Writing!

RIP one of our companions

>>44411847
I can hear the "but" part coming.

After a quick ten minute jog back to the Forest Hunter tribe's village, you and Kyra make your plan.

“I'll take the one on the ground.” you tell her. She gives a quick thumbs up. “I learned a spell recently that makes a person invisible to the naked eye. It lasts about four minutes, so use it wisely.” She nods as you tap her on the shoulder and watch her blink out of existence. Huh, so it is like the light is merely bending around her. You can barely make her out as she moves away, until she actually starts to utilize her stealth and vanishes. You give yourself the same perk and slink around the periphery of the clearing. They don't even have a palisade up, you realize. It takes you a while to find him, seems he has moved his position over towards where the garden is.

To his credit, the lookout is actually rather well-armed compared to the other orcs. He actually has a bow and some arrows in a quiver rather than just the standard javelins most of them carry. He's casually watching the tree-line, bored out of his skull. He picks his nose a bit and flicks the booger off into the distance.

Getting close to him from behind, you carefully slide your dagger out of its sheath and approach, ready to gut him. Your hand clenches tightly around the handle. You psyche yourself up and then launch yourself at him.

Three quick shanks in the chest while your arm wraps around his neck to choke away the scream. He struggles and fights you a bit, even managing to punch you in the face, your nose crumpling. You eventually get the dagger back up to his neck and draw it across. Blood gurgles out of his neck as he slowly slumps to the ground as you lay him down.

You stand up and go to wipe the blood off of yourself when you spot one of those orc children about twenty feet away staring at you. Directly at you. You look down at yourself. Wait, why are you no longer invisible? It has not been four minutes yet, you're sure. You look back up at the orc child. He screams the word “INTRUDER” at the top of his lungs.

You hear the frenzy of movement as orcs start moving and picking up weapons. You see one spot you and the yelling begins to spread from orc to orc in one gigantic chorus of noise.

The human slave, who has now looked up from where he was tending the garden to where you are standing locks eyes with you as panic sets in and you start to shake in how fucked this situation has just become. A look comes over his face that seems to be apologetic. He mouths his advice to you.

>Take the advice, run towards your allies
>Take the advice, run in a random direction away from your allies
>Don't take the advice, stand your ground
>Something else? (write-in)

>>44412424
>>Something else? (write-in)
Become invisible again?

>>44412424
>Something else? (write-in)
Go invis again. Throw a rock into the nearby treeline away from our allies. That way they can flank easier with less resistance. After we throw the rock, back off and regroup with our allies.

>>44412424
>Something else? (write-in)
Cast Invisibility again. Then tell our party that they need to roll in hard an fast.

>>44412424
>>44412450
cast invis on him and yourself

>>44412531
Leave the corpse. It'll serve as a distraction for the them to figure out what happened while everyone else attacks from another angle. Lets use this fuck up into something positive.

Alright, writing.

Casting Invisibility on yourself definitely wins. You have one cast of it left.

>Cast Invisibility on the dead body to hide it
>Cast Invisibility on the slave and take him with you
>Don't cast Invisibility on anything else

And, roll me 1d100 + 35

Rolled 69 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44412667
>Don't cast Invisibility on anything else
They aren't going to kill the slave since they already saw that we were the one that was killing. Just tell him to lie low and wait til this is over.

Rolled 84 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44412667
>>Don't cast Invisibility on anything else
Let's go kill the shaman

Rolled 32 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44412667

Rolled 57 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44412667
First roll of the day, Great Will be with me.

>>44412667
>>Cast Invisibility on the slave and take him with you

>>44412748 (you)
oh and forgot
>>44412667
>Don't cast Invisibility on anything else

Well, they've seen you but that doesn't mean they'll see you for long. You feel the power of your blood spread through you again.

“Magic user!” You hear shouted from the orc who saw you, as over a dozen warriors start to move towards your area. You rush away from the scene of the crime and try to flatten yourself against the side of one of the huts.

Thankfully you were quick enough on your feet that it seemed to work. Seven or so warriors have drawn weapons and are searching around the corpse of the one you just killed.

Then the Chieftain walks over. He strides right past you, coming from around the tent you are pressed against. He carries a huge, hulking axe. He quickly notices the dead look-out.

“What happened!” He shouts at one of the warriors.

A completely different one speaks up. “I saw him. Stabbed Mog and then disappeared. He's a magic-user. Looks like a hooman.”

The Cheiftain turns towards Talker. “You! Where did he go?”

Talker shrugs while dropping his hoe. “Sorry Master, once he turned invisible I lost track of him. I think he ran over this way, I saw a shimmer of something over there.” He gestures in the exact opposite direction of where you ran. The Chieftain turns to look at his men and gestures with his head. About four of them go off searching away from where you are. The Chieftain walks over and smacks Talker with the blunt side of his axe. Talker hits the dirt.

The chieftain points a finger in his face. “A human dies for this. You better hope we find him.” He then looks over to where another of his warriors is uselessly kicking up dirt, searching for you. “You! Go get the shaman and bring him here.” The warrior runs away.

Only the Chieftain and two others orcs are near the garden now. Most are out searching the rest of the village.

>Stay where you are, don't move
>Try to escape and regroup with your allies
>Find the shaman and kill him
>Ambush the Chieftain, kill him now
>Something else? (write-in)

>>44413284
>>Find the shaman and kill him
Always go for the magic users first.

>>44413284
>>Find the shaman and kill him

Wait guys

>There's a shaman. But he's less of a, oh god we're about to get assaulted by divine orc God wrath and more of an old geezer who seems to apply war paint to the orcs as they go on ritualistic hunts.

Don't worry about the shaman.

>>44413284
>Try to escape and regroup with your allies

>>44413284
>>Try to escape and regroup with your allies

>>44413284
>Try to escape and regroup with your allies

Alright then, writing!

Roll me 1d100 + 35!

Rolled 64 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44413521

Rolled 12 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44413521

Rolled 37 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44413521

Rolled 38 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44413521
Samefagging was out of control

Rolled 98 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>44413521
critfail?

No, no need to risk anything right now. You've got them alerted and spooked, but there should be only about fourteen or fifteen of them left. Best to meet up with the rest of your group and plan out the next step.

You slink away from where you were hiding and thankfully the Chieftain seems too angered to pay attention to his surroundings.

You make it some distance into the tree-line before your invisibility spell finally wears off. You've got one left.

You travel towards where your allies should be coming from and you feel your message spell start to work again.

“Hey Rowe.” you mutter.

“Yeah, Alan. What's up?”

“I mighta screwed the pooch a little. The orcs saw me kill one of their look-outs and now they're on full alert.”

“Alright. We thought this might go loud rather quickly. What's the plan?”

>What is the plan?

>>44413759
We lure them out to where the others are and set up an ambush. You guys go on ahead, I'll act as the bait.

>>44413759
Pointy end of our weapons on them

>>44413793
>>44413759
This. Kill as many as we can with our bow at distance then expeditious retreat on out of there to the others when they start to get close.

>>44413846
>grease
>expeditious retreat
>blurred movement
>fast movement
Our skillset is very good for running away

>>44413793
Supporting.

>>44413871
It's our family's secret technique.

>>44413871
so basically we're the perfect bait?

>>44413935
We need some summoner levels.

Alright, time to bait these orcs pretty hard.

Roll me 3d100, best of 3.

One for some stealth
One for some attack
And the last for defense, your main defense being getting the hell away!

Rolled 85, 14, 49 = 148 (3d100)

>>44413998

Rolled 70, 19, 94 = 183 (3d100)

>>44413998

Rolled 11, 46, 48 = 105 (3d100)

>>44413998
We nailed this

Rolled 53, 91, 53 = 197 (3d100)

>>44413998
Death awaits!!! The Red Raider rages.

Well, the good news is that attacking isn't that important in this scenario!

Writing!

>>44414014
>>44414036
>>44414021
>laugthing mongols.jpg

>>44414042
As long as they fall for our clever ruse

>>44414042
As long as we kill the chieftan i'm fine with it.

Rolled 29 (1d100)

Summoning Trick

>>44414735
Long update, I apologize!

“The plan is that I'm going to go in there and piss these guys off enough to chase me, leading them right into your ambush.”

“You sure that's smart?” Rowe asks with some trepidation in her voice.

“Eh, I know my skill set and I know yours. I'm better bait and you know the forest. Just get eyes on me and guide me with your voice where you want me to go and I'll lead them right into your killzone. By the way, your left is going to be my right.” you warn her.

“I know that Alan. I'm not stupid.” She doesn't sound too offended.

“Just being safe.” you chime in.

“Hey Alan.”

“Yeah.”

“Call his mother a goblin fucker. That always pisses them off.”

“Noted.” You move back towards the Forest Hunter camp.

Once you get close enough you cast your last dose of Invisibility on yourself so they don't spot you approaching. You're going to need to get close to bait them into chasing you. You channel your power into your legs granting you Blurred Movement and Expeditious Retreat as well.

You move towards the center of the village and see the Chieftain standing near the shaman, yelling in the old man's face.

“What do you mean you can't find him?!” The shaman is forced to wipe the spittle off his ancient, tired face.

“I invoked The Unrelenting Force's name and he granted me the sight. If he was the enemy I would have noticed him by now.”

“He's just killed another look-out and dropped him onto one of my men. He must be here!” Sounds like Kyra's handiwork.

The shaman looks exasperated and leans his face against his walking staff. “It only detects the enemy. Any creature, orc or goblin could be . . .” the shaman stops talking and looks over in your direction. He practically locks eyes with you, but doesn't seem to see you. “Oh. He's right there.” The shaman points with his staff towards your location right as you fire your shot at the Chieftain. Your shot aims true but at the shaman's warning The Chieftain lifts his shield up to block your arrow. The Chieftain lowers it as your Invisibility slowly drains away, revealing you to his eyes completely. He growls at you.

“Your mother was a goblin fucker.” You tell him defiantly in his own tongue. The shaman chuckles as you see the Chieftain transform into the first ever red orc.

“I'm going to fuck your skull!” He bellows before giving a loud shout to his men scattered among the village. He barrels towards you, followed on his heels by a dozen or so orcish warriors, howling for blood.

And that's your cue to skedaddle. You rush away from them, your legs moving faster than one would think possible. You actually find yourself having to not run at the full speed you're capable of to ensure the gaggle of orcs are able to follow you. Of course, since you're in their sight they manage to chuck javelins at you. You're too far away for most of them to come close, but a few manage to miss by a hair of a margin. Thankfully Blurred Movement keeps your exact location a little hazy to the eye of any marksman orc warriors.

By the time you make it into the tree-line, feeling the bushes and branches scratch and whip at you as you run and leap over them, you start to hear Rowe's guiding voice.

“Alright, good, they're entering the forest. Shift right a bit there Alan. Great. They're catching up, but slow a bit so they don't lose sight of you.”

As your almost blind run through the forest continues, you find yourself slowing down a bit to navigate the rougher terrain and obey Rowe's suggestion. The orcs, still on your heels, shouting at you, are getting a bit close for comfort. Thankfully most feel like saving the last of their javelins for when they have a better shot.

As you find yourself running headlong towards a big cluster of larger trees, you hear Rowe once more.

“Between those two trees. We're ready for you. MAELSTROM!” She seems to shout on her end. “Eve says you should duck.”

What? As you round the corner of the two trees you see Eve and Quissonce to either side of you, both seem to be holding in a large breath. Rowe is pointing her bow, with the arrow nocked right at you, electricity crackling along the polished wood of her weapon.

You duck.

The orcs who did not receive that advice find themselves rushing into a blast of fire and what you assume is an ear-piercing shriek. You turn around in time to see four of them stumble back on fire with most likely busted ear drums. The two casters step forward from behind the trees to bathe the two left standing with more fire and fury. The only one still able to take a swing at that point is quickly shot and electrified by Rowe's arrow.

You see a fifth one go down to a javelin tossed by Gale and a sixth get his head crushed by a dropped rock from Gabby up above. Dolah charges into a chaos and is able to crush the skull of a seventh by the time the remaining orcs realize things just went horribly for them.

There are seven of them remaining, including The Cheiftain.

“I got the big one!” you hear Gabby yell as she jumps down on top of him from the tree she was hiding in.

>Help her, engage the Chieftain
>Help taking out the remaining grunts

>>44415125
>Help her, engage the Chieftain
Grease his weapon if we still have a charge.

Also, twenty minute break as I eat.

>>44415125
>>Help her, engage the Chieftain

>>44415125
>>Help her, engage the Chieftain

>>44415125
>Help her, engage the Chieftain
A quick spell to make things a bit easier. After that
>Help taking out the remaining grunts

>>44415160
The Art of Staring Death in the Face and Laughing (unread)
by Commander Hildebrandt
You should update it QM. It was partially read

Alright, roll me 2d100, best of 3.

Also,

>Don't activate your scabbard
>Activate your scabbard, *Schwing* lightly
>Activate your scabbard, *SCHWING* intensely

Rolled 22, 29 = 51 (2d100)

>>44415544
>Activate your scabbard, *SCHWING* intensely
*unzips sword*

Rolled 74, 61 = 135 (2d100)

>>44415544
>Activate your scabbard, *SCHWING* intensely

Rolled 59, 20 = 79 (2d100)

>>44415544
>Activate your scabbard, *SCHWING* intensely
WITH ALL THE MIGHT OUR LUNGS CAN MUSTER

How very average.

File: Ambush point.jpg (99 KB, 725x483)

99 KB JPG

Writing, also I forgot the pic of the ambush point.

Anyone else notice what the Shaman called their God?
It sounds like killing him could have pissed off the Great Will.

>>44415772
Unrelenting Force?

>>44415772
Don't want to kill him anyways. A wise old man could be what we need to understand more about the orcs here. Also he laughed when we pissed off the Chief.

>>44415805
>>44415060

Oh shit. That's an odd fuck up seeing as I haven't played Skyrim in years.

I didn't mean to type Unrelenting Force. I meant to type Relentless Surge. Similar names, but one is original, donut steel.

>>44415813
He's going to culturally enrich Seaside

>>44415862
>Seaside
>Sweden
Coincidence? I think not

You decide to focus down the Chieftain. Gabby's tough, but that's the biggest sapient you've ever seen, let alone fought.

You move on him, casting your last surge of Grease at his axe, only for him to dodge out of the way, your spell hitting a tree behind him, greasing that instead.

You draw your saber, shouting “SCHWING” as loud as you possibly can as you flank him from behind. He takes a swing at Gabby while you step up behind him and thrust your weapon between two metal plates on his back, feeling the blade sink into his back. He shouts at the top of his lungs, but is able to swivel and backhand you with his large shield, sending you sliding across the ground. He looks intensely injured, but still keeps going, being forced into focusing on Gabby as she kicks him in the side and elbows him in the face. Your saber is still stuck in him and just as you pull your longsword from out of your quiver, another one of the orcs comes to jump on you.

You block that club with your shield, enough force being channeled into the blow to make your arm feel numb. You take a haphazard slash with your sword only for the orc to back up and end up getting his head lopped off by Gale, who seems to have just started exiting that battle frenzy he was telling you about earlier.

You look around. Dolah has slain another two orcs and the two casters successfully slew a third. Rowe has managed to fell two more. That leaves only The Chieftain, who is still swiping at Gabby as he sluggishly throws his entire weight into his blows. He's slowed down immensely due to that giant wound you've managed to cause with your sword.

Gabby backs up from him as a lull occurs in their combat, the entirety of the front of her robe in tatters from near misses with The Chieftain's axe.

“You have spunk human. I promise to fuck you into the –” his words are cut off by his howl of pain as a lightning enchanted arrow pierces the back of his knee, sending him sprawling to the ground.

You move up and put a foot on his back, sliding your sword out of him as he screams even more. You may have purposefully wiggled it a bit while it was stuck in him.

He's done for. Gabby gives you an angry look. “I said I had him Al.”

Dolah rolls her eyes as she wipes sweat off her brow. “Gabby, shut up. Where's Kyra?” You shrug your shoulders. “Well, she's probably fine, let's head to the village and deal with the loose ends.” Your team begins to move towards the Forest Hunter tribe's base. Most of the others move forward, while Rowe stays behind with you. She goes over to the fallen orc and slips a pendant off his neck. It seems to be made out of boar tusk and is shaped in the visage of a pregnant orc. A quick detect magic confirms it is no mundane item. Rowe pockets it for the moment.

“Well, we have him.”

>Kill him slow
>Kill him quick
>Spare him?

>>44416298
>>Kill him quick

>>44416298
>Kill him quick
He deserves worse, but we are better than him.

Slit his throat and have the last few thoughts of his life as he bleeds out be that he is going to die.

>>44416298
>Kill him quick

Writing!

He deserves worse, but you're better than him. You pull out the dagger and shove it in his face.

“You're going to die.” You bring it up to his thick neck and jam it in. You grab him roughly by the hair and draw it across his neck, forced to put a lot of effort into pulling it through so much meat. He begins to bleed out, his life's blood pooling onto the forest floor.

Rowe kneels next to him as his anger does not subside, thrashing as he dies. “After this, we're going to kill your women and your children. Slowly. All because of you.” You look at Rowe incredulously as she says this. The orc doesn't see your surprise though. He's too focused on Rowe's words and grim expression. Even in his dying moments, that one gets to him. He looks horror-struck before he passes. After the orc is most assuredly dead, Rowe finally meets your gaze. “I was lying.” She stands up. “Well, let's deal with the mess we've made.”

The two of you walk back to the village in silence. Well, there's definitely a lot of activity going on. Dolah is in the middle of the village and is talking to a whole gathering of old, female and young orcs, with that shaman among them. Kyra is looking among the refuse piles. Seems she is doing fine. Gabby and Gale are just standing around looking tough, while Eve and Quissonce are nowhere to be seen.

Well, there's a lot to handle right now and you yourself can go help take care of anything you want.

>Enter the Chieftain's hut
>Go thank Talker for his help
>Go play diplomat with Dolah
>Help Kyra search the refuse piles
>Talk with Rowe in private about this whole affair
>Go deal with the goblin slaves

>>44416798
>>Go thank Talker for his help

>>44416798
>Go thank Talker for his help
Yeah. Dude took a lied and took a blow for us. Least we can do is thank him.

Then
>Go play diplomat with Dolah

>>44416853
>Dude took a lied
Dude lied*
I should really proofread.

>>44416798
>>Go play diplomat with Dolah
First things first; make sure the women won't rise up and attack us, because they're still bigger and stronger than us, and outnumber us, and we're out of spells.

Writing!

File: Finn's the one on the left.jpg (49 KB, 736x582)

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First thing's first, gratitude. You wind your way over to where Talker was and spot him, standing rather attentively and nervously near the garden. When he sees you, he smiles.

“Looks like you won.” He steps forward a bit. He speaks to you in Orcish.

“Partially due to you. Thank you for covering for me.” You stick your hand out. “Alan Rodain.” He nods and shakes your hand.

“Finn.” Seems he understands the human tongue at least. “So, Alan, you mind telling me who you work for?” You can sense just a hint of apprehension and nervousness under the casual, friendly greeting.

“Ceril.” you assure him.

“Ceril the . . .”

Rowe finishes for him. “Republic. Haven't been reconquered yet, much to Kardas's chagrin.”

Finn laughs. “Good. Good. You mind telling me the year?”

You sigh. “About to be 125 CI.” You've been speaking in the human tongue this entire time. He understands you, but has been speaking Orcish in response.

He nods. “One-hundred and twenty five years of independence. And looks like I'll get to spend New Years a free man. Well, I was this tribe's orc farmer. Anything you want to know, I'll gladly tell ya.”

>Orc farmer?
>Ask Finn anything else? (write-in)
>Enter the Chieftain's hut
>Go play diplomat with Dolah
>Help Kyra search the refuse piles
>Talk with Rowe in private about this whole affair
>Go deal with the goblin slaves

>>44417265
>>Orc farmer?
Wut

>Go play diplomat with Dolah

>>44417265
>Orc farmer?
>Go play diplomat with Dolah
I don't trust Dolah to make militarily sound decisions when it comes to the logistics of POWs.

>>44417265
We should send someone to check the chieftain's Hut.

>>44417334
I was planning on doing that after we played diplo.

>>44417265
>>Orc farmer?
>Enter the Chieftain's hut

Writing!

“Orc farmer?” You ask a little confused.

“Huh.” He says. “Thought Seaside would know about that by now. Oh wait, is Seaside still around? Is Blackburn still alive? Gilda? Betsy? Hildebrandt?” He asks all of those questions very quickly.

“Yes to all.” Rowe answers him.

He wipes his brow. “Good, a lot can happen in three years. Well, if you want I can show you exactly what I'm talking about. It'll take me a bit, but come back in a few minutes and I'll clear the air about all this.”

Well, looks like you've got something else to look forward to. You notice Dolah is still talking to all the assembled orcs and head over to see what's going on.

“You're a fucking traitor!” one of the female orcs shouts at Dolah.

She looks to the woman and sighs. “I was born in Ceril. I was born as part of the same tribe as the slaves your husbands took.”

“Mates.” The shaman interjects.

“Mates, yes. So if I was born as one of them, was I born a traitor?” The orc woman who shouted that looks like she's being forced to think really hard about Dolah's honest question. “Now, as I was saying –”

“Why should we listen to some hooman's concubine!” Another female shouts.

The shaman shrugs his shoulders and turns to her. “Maybe she's their leader. That would make the males her concubines.”

The female orc turns to the shaman. “That makes no sense. Then who do the other females belong to.”

He shrugs again. “I don't know. Her maybe?” The female orc snorts in disgust. He shrugs a third time. “Not unheard of.”

Dolah tries to break up the conversation. “Nobody is anybody's concubine or slave. We're part of the same tribe. A war-pack.”

“Then who's your war leader?” A third female shouts.

“Nobody.” Dolah says in anger, as if this is the fifth time she's been forced to say this.

“HALF-BREED!” A fourth female orc bellows.

The shaman seems to get angry at that last remark. “So was the last chieftain or are ogres suddenly orcs now.”

>Let Dolah to continue to handle this, things are proceeding swimmingly
>Ask the shaman about what the Relentless Surge is
>Ask the shaman about what an ogre is
>Tell the assembled orcs something (what?)
>Ask the shaman something (what?)
>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes
>Enter the Chieftain's hut
>Help Kyra search the refuse piles
>Talk with Rowe in private about this whole affair
>Go deal with the goblin slaves

>>44417855
>Ask the shaman about what the Relentless Surge is
>Ask the shaman about what an ogre is
>Ask the shaman something (what?)
If he is willing to come to Seaside to see where we come from and learn from each other.

Then
>Enter the Chieftain's hut

>>44417855
>Tell the assembled orcs something (what?)
Have any of you seen the ocean? Lots of water as far as the eye can see? Our 'tribe' is beyond that and doesn't work how your tribes work.

Writing!

>>44417855
Yeah that's a whole can of worms I'm not going to butt into.
>Enter the Chieftain's hut

>>44418056
Trick, I like you.

>>44417855
First, tell Dolah we got this, then
>Tell the assembled orcs something (what?)
Tell them we're the war leader and all the women are our concubines.

>>44418423
Even Gale?

>>44418452
Especially Gale

“Have any of you seen the ocean? Lots of water as far as the eye can see? Our 'tribe' is beyond that and doesn't work how your tribes work.”

Dolah points to you. “Yes. What he said. It's very different. Now, . . .” as Dolah continues to talk to the assembled orcish masses you go up to the shaman and tap him on the shoulder to follow you. He goes along with you willingly while Dolah starts to explain the basic concept of 'we aren't dicks so we're not going to abandon you to be eaten by wolves or starve'.

“I'll admit, for a servant of the enemy you're pretty funny. I've always hated that smug, brain-dead half-ogre.”

“Ogre?” you ask him. He looks at you for a second before realizing you don't know what an ogre is.

“Very big. Live in caves. Ugly and in-bred. Deformed and gray. No ogres across the Ocean?” You shake your head. “Lucky.”

“Alright, now what's The Relentless Surge?”

“Our God. The Relentless Surge is our creator and spurs us to dominate and fight until the strongest rules the tribe.”

“Okay. Would you be willing to come to our settlement?”

He looks at you as if you just insulted him. “I will not be left behind for those half-goblins to take me back to their tribe. I'll risk my life with you foreigners.”

Well, he's the most agreeable orc you've met so far. “Alan Rodain, of Seaside.”

“Hagnoth, shaman of the Forest Hunter clan.” You part ways there as you and Rowe enter the Chieftain's hut.

It's rather roomy and has some animal skins of various boars, wolves and even a panther for rugs. There is some meat and fruit in a wooden bowl on the table. And in the very back of the room, you see Eve and Quissonce talking to Speaker, who's sitting, wrapped in one of those very same animal skins, wearing a tattered white robe underneath.

She's smoking a cigarette. “So everybody's doing fine. That's fantastic.” That came out of her mouth absolutely monotone. Gabby's also in the room, smoking as well. And she's not wearing her robe. Just the leggings underneath. Well, thankfully she binds so this isn't that awkward as long as you don't focus on the form-fitting nature of the remaining ensemble. Speaker looks up at the two as you enter. “And who are you?”

“Rowe.” Rowe answers simply.

“Alan Rodain.” you respond. “Are you alright?”

She laughs. “No. No I'm not. Can we get the fuck out of here?”

>Yes, we can
>Well, actually . . . (write-in anything you want to talk to her about)
>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes
>Enter the Chieftain's hut
>Help Kyra search the refuse piles
>Talk with Rowe in private about this whole affair
>Go deal with the goblin slaves

>>44418794
>Yes, we can
>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes

>>44418794
>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes
Then
>Talk to Rowe in private about this whole affair

>>44418794
>>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes
>Go deal with the goblin slaves

>>44418794
>Go see Finn, it's been a few minutes
>Talk with Rowe in private about this whole affair

Writing!

“Hopefully very soon.” you tell her. “Let's at least get you out of this tent.” You, Rowe, Gabby, Speaker, Eve and Quissonce leave the Chieftain's hut.

The group of you begin to pass by Dolah's congregation of orcs as you head towards the garden.

“Alright, will the Chieftain's mate step forward?” Dolah asks of them. Six different orcish women move up to where she is speaking. Dolah sighs. “Of course.” Gale laughs like a madman.

One of the orcs who is holding a bundle of rags most likely containing a baby notices your group on the move and walks over to where Speaker is.

“Hooman, do you want your –”

“You hand me that thing and I'm throwing it on the ground like an angry Orcish warlord.” The female orc recoils at the verbal assault and moves away with the baby. You definitely are going to avoid a whole line of questions for Speaker as if it would kill you to ask. Speaker decides to go stand next to Gale while the rest of you investigate something she's 'already aware of' as she puts it.

File: Baby Orc.jpg (95 KB, 640x640)

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You walk over to where Finn is standing over the garden of plants, bleeding from his hand onto what looks like the biggest one. As you all approach, looking at him like he's being weird, he wraps his hand in a bandage before clapping them together.

“Good, you're here. So, what do you know about Island orcs?” You all give very half-hearted answers.

“They really like raping things.” Gabby offers in her eternal wisdom. Finn points to her.

“Exactly. Because they can breed with a lot of different sapient creatures. Ogres, goblins, humans, most likely elves. Now, why are orcs green?” Again, shrugs all around. “Alright, what else is green?”

Wait. Oh. OH. “. . . plants?” you offer. I mean, most plants are. Finn points to you.

“Exactly. Plants are green. Orcs are green. What you are about to witness, is the perfect synthesis between flora and fauna that anyone has ever seen.” He bends down at the waist and grabs onto the stalk of the plant he is standing over. He begins to tug and pull for many moments before finally all his effort results in him yanking . . . THAT out of the ground. Clods of dirt shake from the thing as it wails at the top of its lungs.

“I present to you a newborn orc. Amazing, right?”

Quissonce wretches.

Gabby is laughing so hard you think she might have gone insane.

Rowe is holding her head in her hands like a whole tribe of orcs has run a train on her brain.

Eve makes an 'awwwww' sound.

You expect to be paid double for this.

>End of Thread
I will most likely run this next time on Tuesday. https://twitter.com/TrickQM

>>44419391
Never bury an orc again.

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>>44419354
>“You hand me that thing and I'm throwing it on the ground like an angry Orcish warlord.”

>>44419438
Loo Bei > Cow Cow

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>>44419508