The Orc Ship (Samheen 20, Morningtide) ~ Dench and Thrugg

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Dench snatched one of the crossbows, he'd seen such things before - during raids on the shipping lanes of the Western Kingdom - but he wasn't well aquainted with the specifics. After a moment's inspection he put the front of the bow on the deck, braced the stock against his chest and heaved on the bowstring - trying to lock it into position. He knew that this took Humans a lot of effort, but he was a bull Orc, and didn't forsee the same problems.

He looked up at the group of Orcs in front of him and cocked his head slightly and snarled,

"Tell me one of you got da bolts."
Anarión Herunna

Post by Anarión Herunna »

"Boholts???" The pair of overly stupid orcs were watching him and scrathing their hides bewilderedly. The reaction aggravated Marak enough to kick them both and yell loudly. "Bolts!!! Who bring missile?"

The orcs exchanged confused looks, and it was obvious none of them had actually thought further than the actual order. Finally Marak, whom seemed to be the single able creature amongst them, began to roam through the weapons which were now piled on the floor. He smacked an orcish brute on the head and was gratified with a yelp and the sudden help. Quickly five orcs dispursed and ran all over the human construction.

Within a burn the orcs returned with another sizable pile of all kind of junk. There were spoons and knives, arrows, clubs and sticks , a single pan and several bolts.

The manlings continued their unorganized roaming on the ground, now more and more eager to fight it out with the orcs. Curses and insults were hurled and the men became more and more confident. Closer and closer to Dench and his comrades the manlings rode. They now were a large cluster (most of them were actually huddling together - trying to figure out their next move) of human flesh waiting on the slope to slay orcs.
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Thrugg had stood silent for some time, behind Dench and the other assorted Orc brothers present. He was thinking, a dangerous past time of his that the majority of Orcish society would find...... odd, for lack of a better word. The aspiring Shaman watched the humans intently, a blood hunger rising with gusto, thundering once more in his viens, but he managed enough restraint for now. The thought of collecting more skulls and bones clouded many of images that swarmed in his head, yet another uncommon trait.

Dench had mentioned someone about bolts, but he paid little heed. The long overcoat he wore swayed slighty, the tiny bones tied with string and thread clanked together, a hollow sound ecohing death around him. Thrugg only waited to see what the humans and Dench would do next, but he would be ready, with blade and whatever magic sang in his untrained blood.
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Dench took the pan in his hand, turned it a few times, then clouted the Orc who had brought it around the head with it. He tossed it over his shoulder and picked up a bolt, holding it up to the denser members of his crew,

"Dis, is a bolt. Get it?"

He then retrieved the heftiest crossbow he could find and proceeded to, very carefully, attempt to load the bolt into it. He ignored the jeering humans below him - whilst Thrugg was blessed with a rather un-Orcish habit of thinking a lot, Dench was decidedly more patient than most of his kind. He would deal with the humans sure enough - on his own terms.
Anarión Herunna

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Something was wrong. Thrugg was able to feel it. It was not in the atmosphere, neither among the orcs nor the gathering humans underneath the flying vessel. A small sensation in the back of his mind. It was nothing more than a mere and undelwing tingling. Somehow he knew that whatever caused the feeling hid behind the hill.

Overneath his head clouds were gathering rapidly and water began pouring down. Thrugg could hear and even sense the roaring of a distant thunder. Then came the white flash. Lightening. It illuminated the sky and the orcs and the men. Then it was gone while the water continously rained down on the already wet orcs.

Dench was after a couple of unsuccessfull attempt able to load the crossbow. It had snapped at his fingers, and blood trickled onto the bolt now. It did not affect him any though, it was merely a tiny cut.

The men were somehow encouraged by the weather and dared now to move even closer. They were cheering even louder and now the insults could be heard distinctly after the thunder and the lightening.

"Come down and fight us, ye scared girlies."

"Ohhh, are the big orcs afraid of their own prey. Even the weather is against you!!!"

An orc was so aggravated by the abuse that he ran to the back of the ship and picked up a javelin. He burst forward and threw the javelin with all his might. It landed peacefully in front of the humans though. The horsemen laughed and pointed and now rode before the would-be soldiers.
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Dench snarled and threw the ruined weapon aside, then inspiration hit him like a headbutt and he threw another one at Marak,

"You work rossbow, I going below with Thrugg. Have plan."

He turned and stormed off the deck, descending heavily through the hatch. After a moment he hauled himslef back out and rapped Thrugg a couple of times on the skull to break his reverie,

"Not time for magic dreams, come now."

He descended again, and headed for the side of te ship, where lay the rows of cannon lay at rest, he pointed and grinned,

"We use Ooman firesticks. They killed many G'Thrug, will kill more flimsy Oomans."
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The feeling of unease caused Thrugg to growl deep in his throat as he regarded the Hill, waiting for whatever it was to emerge and show itself. Then came the rain and foreboding thunder, its dull clap in the distance rolling ever closer. However he had no time to ponder the sensation any further, Dench having broke whatever concentration he had managed to achieve. " Firesticks! ", it was a phenomenom that Thrugg had not been able to figure out as of yet. True, the flying device that made the ship sail amongst the clouds was his discovery...however that had been by accident.

Studying the cannons, the aspiring Shaman frowned severely, looking intently, the odd glance to Dench. Stepping closer, he knelt down beside the cannon, sniffing at it, then grunting, feeling the machine with his hands and trying to work out how to use the blasted thing. " Me not sure. Oomans make this.... not easy. ", he scratched his head absently, " You no idea? ", he looked to Dench.
Anarión Herunna

Post by Anarión Herunna »

Marak obeyed. He began to finger with the crossbow. The brute obviously had no idea and actually broke the entire crossbow with his hands. He kept toying with is, oblivious to the fact that the thing was barely hanging in a piece. Next he tried to fit the missile into its intended position.

A small crowd gathered around him and they were eagerly watching his progress. Marak pointed the thing towards the manlings and snarled when nothing happened.

In the hull underneath the deck there were cannons and cannonballs stored and ready for use. In bags there were powder.

Overneath the deck the clouds in different shapes and ominous colors began to form over the orcs. The feeling crept up on Thrugg. The uneasy feeling bore promise of something bad was likely to happen. It began at his spine and tingled in the back of his skull. When another thunder rolled across the sky, quickly followed by a lightening not far from the ship. When the lightening struck the feeling of unease increased and swept across his entire being. Then it evaporated and everything was normal. Or at least so it appeared.
Last edited by Anarión Herunna on Tue Oct 18, 2005 10:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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