_Grim1_ 28 Share Posted September 4, 2013 Sand, warm under his feet. The air, hot and dry. The sky, not a cloud to be seen. "Hoem fiilz hozh." Kargul grunted. He looked around, seeing the familiar sandstone arch strung with red and black banners above him. Further in the distance, San'Orka reared up like a great bull, looking down on him. The holy city. Kargul trudged forwards, the harsh light of the sun near to boiling his brain in his skull where it lay exposed to the open air, the left side of his face a scarred, hideous ruin. He'd learned a little elvish over the years, learned how to control his rage some. Home would be a challenge. "Huu da skah am lat?" someone greets him at the gate. They look him up and down. No clan markings, no tattoos to show him as a clanbound orc. They grin. "Hur hur. Wytwazh aind lat?" then a growl, an unsheathed weapon. Kargul moves quicker than lightning can flash, the hand holding the weapon is twisted and snapped as his other, his right, goes to his belt, drawing his first sword. "Wub lat blah mi? Beddah nub hab biin wytwazh. Ib id wuz lat idz gunna lern a lezzun lat aind nubgrukkin." he growls. Predictably, the other orc howls with rage and lashes out. A short, intense struggle breaks out. Kargul ends it by thumping the other orc in the back of the head with the flat of his sword and knocking him to the ground. "Skah uff, git. Mi am Agrak. Lat dayah cawl mi wytwazh, da nerv ob cubz deze dais." Kargul walks off into the desert, looking for the Gorkil fort. He hadn't been home in a long time. - _Grim1_ Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Moot 1719 Share Posted February 26, 2014 Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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