[RP] An Orc's tale
Posted: Sat Mar 13, 2010 9:04 pm
Bloodwyvern lay in his simpe bed, hired from one of the out-landers with the last of his wealth he had dragged with him from the homelands. Sighing he rolled over with a grunt, and closed his eyes, reflecting upon the events that brought him here, the images playing across his closed eyes as if he were reliving them.
It had been a cold day, even for the mountains. The warband for hours with Bloodwyvern at its head, this was his first command, and he was doing it young at only 19 summers longs. Orcs, despite popular belief, can actually live to a great age if given the chance, it is just a combination of recklessness and a like of warfare tend to mean few ever die of a natural cause. Boodwyvern was young, yet had already seen numerous battles, evident not only from the multitude of scars covering his green tinted skin, but the tattoos visible under his armour. One, on his upper left arm a large skull white tooth identified him as a member of the white fang tribe. There were three blood red rings marked upon his left arm, these showed that he had killed three enemies of significance (usually an enemy leader or mage). Around his neck hung a massive wolf fang, the animal which it came from was a truly dangerous beast, but that is another story for another day.
Bloodwyvern watched the his breath trail away in a smoky trail as he stood, one foot on a small rock, scanning the surroundings, a small human outpost had been spotted, the bastards had began encroaching upon what was obviously tribal territory again, these humans never learnt their lessons or honoured their agreements. He turned to a nearby Orc bearing the mark of a different tribe and shouted in Orcish"Tell the rest of this miserable lot that we attack as soon as the sun sets!" Orcish eyesight was better than the humans in the dark. He turned back to look at the outpost, still blissfully unaware of the Orcs waiting to reign bloody death upon them...
There was a knock on the door and Bloodwyvern was awoken from his revere as he went to answer it, somewhat reluctant to abandon thinking about better times.
It had been a cold day, even for the mountains. The warband for hours with Bloodwyvern at its head, this was his first command, and he was doing it young at only 19 summers longs. Orcs, despite popular belief, can actually live to a great age if given the chance, it is just a combination of recklessness and a like of warfare tend to mean few ever die of a natural cause. Boodwyvern was young, yet had already seen numerous battles, evident not only from the multitude of scars covering his green tinted skin, but the tattoos visible under his armour. One, on his upper left arm a large skull white tooth identified him as a member of the white fang tribe. There were three blood red rings marked upon his left arm, these showed that he had killed three enemies of significance (usually an enemy leader or mage). Around his neck hung a massive wolf fang, the animal which it came from was a truly dangerous beast, but that is another story for another day.
Bloodwyvern watched the his breath trail away in a smoky trail as he stood, one foot on a small rock, scanning the surroundings, a small human outpost had been spotted, the bastards had began encroaching upon what was obviously tribal territory again, these humans never learnt their lessons or honoured their agreements. He turned to a nearby Orc bearing the mark of a different tribe and shouted in Orcish"Tell the rest of this miserable lot that we attack as soon as the sun sets!" Orcish eyesight was better than the humans in the dark. He turned back to look at the outpost, still blissfully unaware of the Orcs waiting to reign bloody death upon them...
There was a knock on the door and Bloodwyvern was awoken from his revere as he went to answer it, somewhat reluctant to abandon thinking about better times.