Prequel Fiction: Rumors and Such
Rumors of orc sightings and talk of missing sheep has been percolating through some of the towns of Britannia. Could this be a natural migration? Some of the resident orc experts don't think so.
"Well, I used to see orcs all the time near my house in Cove, but I haven't seen one for days," reported Dwiggit, a resident of Cove and a long-time orc hunter. "They didn't even come around when I replanted my garden, and they've trampled that garden every season for two years."
Well, whatever the reason, it can only be assumed that the orcs are moving. Why? No one knows... except perhaps the orcs themselves
Prying Eyes
Sitting high on a tree branch, the orc scout Milug peered through the branches at the city in the distance. As he watched the humies milling about, completely unaware of his presence as they bought and sold their wares, he could not suppress a scowl. Already he missed his fort near the human city of Cove. He missed the comfort of his hut, the daily brawls, and the occasional forays into the woods looking for prey. Even more strongly, he missed the smell of charred meat in the cookpots and the hoots of laughter as yet another orc mage inevitably earned a beating from one of the lords after setting something ablaze while practicing his arcane arts.
His only instructions had been, "watch city, no bash humies, report back what humies do, no bash humies, wait ‘til we tell you what do next, no bash humies." Milug hated instructions, especially when they involved "no bashing". And his orc lord had said "no bashing" three times, which meant Milug could not pretend to have forgotten the commands. "Orc Lord too smart," Milug thought. Subconsciously rubbing the bump on his head, Milug remembered well the last time he had disobeyed his lord's orders. Orc lords could hit really hard when they were mad. Milug didn't like being hit. He much preferred doing the hitting. But it had been over a week now, with still no word from the fort with an explanation as to why he was here. Milug was becoming impatient, as were the others.
The sudden sound of a tree falling shook him from his orcish musings, and he looked down to see another orc, wielding a rather nasty looking ax, dragging a tree into the clearing. They had decided to risk building a small encampment near the town, but far enough into the woods to not be noticed by most. Of course, any humies who did venture too close were more than welcome... after all, the orcs did need something to put in their cookpots!
Reluctantly turning his attention to the city once again, he spied a small band of adventures exiting the city. He let out a long and low rasping sound to signal those around him to remain silent. The other orcs immediately ceased their chopping and hid behind the trees. Milug readied his long way killer, almost hoping the humies would spot him.
"Not Milug's fault if humies walk into camp," he thought with a grin. Milug considered making some "accidental" noise, but thought better of it as he again rubbed the bump on his head. The rest of the orcs gripped their axes tightly, only the strong threats from their lords keeping them from attacking the humies. Growing more impatient by the minute, the orcs waited quietly until the humies were gone before resuming their work.
As the orcish scout was about to continue his spying on the city, another orc called up to him in the guttural orcish language. Milug recognized it as the latest news from the fort, and grinned for the first time in days as he looked at the city again. The news was as he had hoped.
It would not be long.
Documenting scenario The Savage Empire
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Documenting scenario The Savage Empire
Last edited by dragon slayer on Mon Jan 17, 2022 5:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Orc Quest Continues and Brings New Creature Types and Another New Item
We've now received reports that two new creature types have sprung up in this new Orc Quest.
Hail and well met!
I thought I present you some evidence on at least two new orc types and sightings of small orc camps.
The following pictures show an Orc Scout (woodland green in coloration), a very capable Archer type with some very unnerving stealth like abilities when it gets too closely involved in close combat (seems to teleport/vanish if received over 50%/hp damage, bandaging sounds can be heard in vicinity!), it is also quite capable of healing itself. It's general capabilities are close if not higher then a Master Archer with a very high dexterity.
The second new Orc type is called 'a frightened Orc', quite amusing...lets one wonder what could possibly frighten Orcs, well this Orc tends to run away as soon as it gets some "feedback", yet it seems to freeze in shock when it receives greater wounds and injuries(over 50%/hp).
These Orcs and other, more common types such as champions, lords and the general grunt were seen in and around a nice looking provisional orc camp around the fields and farmlands of Skara Brae on the Shard known as Napa Valley.
Strange as it may seems the local peasantry and closely associated rangers did not react to these occurrences in any way.
Eldritch of Napa Loremaster of House Quaesitor
Some additional information about the Orc Masks as well.
They do not protect you from Ettins
They are not 'newbied,' but like regular orc masks can be 'blessed' with a clothing bless deed.
When wearing an Orc mask you may still attack another player wearing an Orc mask and not risk it exploding. While wearing an Orc Mask you may still attack another player wearing an Orc Mask in Felucca or under normal guild and war rules in Trammel.
We've now received reports that two new creature types have sprung up in this new Orc Quest.
Hail and well met!
I thought I present you some evidence on at least two new orc types and sightings of small orc camps.
- orcscout.jpg (5.03 KiB) Viewed 8634 times
The second new Orc type is called 'a frightened Orc', quite amusing...lets one wonder what could possibly frighten Orcs, well this Orc tends to run away as soon as it gets some "feedback", yet it seems to freeze in shock when it receives greater wounds and injuries(over 50%/hp).
- orcfrightened.jpg (6.82 KiB) Viewed 8634 times
- orccamp_t.jpg (10.5 KiB) Viewed 8634 times
Strange as it may seems the local peasantry and closely associated rangers did not react to these occurrences in any way.
Eldritch of Napa Loremaster of House Quaesitor
Some additional information about the Orc Masks as well.
They do not protect you from Ettins
They are not 'newbied,' but like regular orc masks can be 'blessed' with a clothing bless deed.
When wearing an Orc mask you may still attack another player wearing an Orc mask and not risk it exploding. While wearing an Orc Mask you may still attack another player wearing an Orc Mask in Felucca or under normal guild and war rules in Trammel.
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Kneeling down, Gebrek felt the body of a bloodied orc and stared in a moment of confused silence at the disarray before him. More than twenty of his comrades’ corpses lay around the campsite in patches of blood-soaked soil, some still clutching the long pole weapons that had slain them. The tents were undisturbed, as was the campfire. His hunting party had hardly been gone long enough for the day fire to move in the sky. He sat still, thinking, trying to comprehend what could slay so many warriors so quickly. It wasn’t until he heard his hunting party behind him mumbling to each other that he remembered his new position of leadership as a power user and began barking orders in his guttural tones.
As the party spread out over the camp, Gebrek breathed a grumbling sigh. Orcs always obeyed a user of the power, no matter what their age, but Gebrek was still nervous. Not many day fires had passed since he had been considered too young to use the power without guidance from an elder power user. And he had many seasons left before he would be powerful enough to be recognized as a mage himself. Or so he thought. Now he was a mage and in command of his own party. That is, what was left of it.
Why was this happening? More and more of the young were being named as mages and fighters. Did the clan need the young so badly? Had so many orcs been lost that children were needed to defend the clan? For the first time he could remember the mages had even resorted to bestowing the power on helmets for the warriors. Gebrek couldn’t remember the mages ever putting the power into something for a warrior. Nor could he ever think of a time when a warrior would ask for a way to use the power. Usually both were too proud. Usually one did not need the other.
Half of the orcs in his party were too young to be warriors, too young even to be away from the fort. No warrior would be named when he was still so inexperienced that he feared battle, much less run from it as many of the new warriors had. Of course it was hard to blame them. Many of the battle lords who had known great glory as warriors were using the new helmets for an extra advantage. Most of those that had remained with the camp wore them. Now they were dead. And whatever killed them did it quickly and easily, despite the new helmets.
He walked around the perimeter of the camp observing the others as they checked their dead comrades and rummaged for anything useful, hoping the sight of orc corpses would not escalate their fear. Slowly small piles of supplies started to form by the campfire and Gebrek began considering his options. Whatever had killed the battle lords would make short work of the younger warriors, with or without the helms. As much as he wanted success on his first outing, he knew that this weak, inexperienced group of fledgling warriors would not be able to make the first strike to find new homes.
One of the young orcs lumbered up to Gebrek and grunted, holding out before him what looked like an orc face. Gebrek turned and tilted his head in curiosity. None of the dead had been missing a face. Reluctantly he took it with a scaly hand and almost dropped it in the same instant. This was not flesh! And it held the power! A false face that contained the power... no orc would make such a thing.
Again he looked over the campsite. Their best warriors were all dead. No sign of a struggle. False faces that held the power. An unseen killer. Gebrek could feel his youthful fears creeping into him again. Something was destroying his kin. The orcs were running out of time.
As the party spread out over the camp, Gebrek breathed a grumbling sigh. Orcs always obeyed a user of the power, no matter what their age, but Gebrek was still nervous. Not many day fires had passed since he had been considered too young to use the power without guidance from an elder power user. And he had many seasons left before he would be powerful enough to be recognized as a mage himself. Or so he thought. Now he was a mage and in command of his own party. That is, what was left of it.
Why was this happening? More and more of the young were being named as mages and fighters. Did the clan need the young so badly? Had so many orcs been lost that children were needed to defend the clan? For the first time he could remember the mages had even resorted to bestowing the power on helmets for the warriors. Gebrek couldn’t remember the mages ever putting the power into something for a warrior. Nor could he ever think of a time when a warrior would ask for a way to use the power. Usually both were too proud. Usually one did not need the other.
Half of the orcs in his party were too young to be warriors, too young even to be away from the fort. No warrior would be named when he was still so inexperienced that he feared battle, much less run from it as many of the new warriors had. Of course it was hard to blame them. Many of the battle lords who had known great glory as warriors were using the new helmets for an extra advantage. Most of those that had remained with the camp wore them. Now they were dead. And whatever killed them did it quickly and easily, despite the new helmets.
He walked around the perimeter of the camp observing the others as they checked their dead comrades and rummaged for anything useful, hoping the sight of orc corpses would not escalate their fear. Slowly small piles of supplies started to form by the campfire and Gebrek began considering his options. Whatever had killed the battle lords would make short work of the younger warriors, with or without the helms. As much as he wanted success on his first outing, he knew that this weak, inexperienced group of fledgling warriors would not be able to make the first strike to find new homes.
One of the young orcs lumbered up to Gebrek and grunted, holding out before him what looked like an orc face. Gebrek turned and tilted his head in curiosity. None of the dead had been missing a face. Reluctantly he took it with a scaly hand and almost dropped it in the same instant. This was not flesh! And it held the power! A false face that contained the power... no orc would make such a thing.
Again he looked over the campsite. Their best warriors were all dead. No sign of a struggle. False faces that held the power. An unseen killer. Gebrek could feel his youthful fears creeping into him again. Something was destroying his kin. The orcs were running out of time.
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An Evil Orc Helm has a chance of being found on an Orc Lord's corpse.
They are hued a golden color.
When you equip them you lose a lot of Karma.
You also gain +10 Stregth. This raises even if it puts your total above 100 Strength. Exp 110 Strength on a 100 Stength player.
You lose -10 points from either Dexterity or Intelligence. It decides this based on which statistic is higher. Someone with 100 Dex and 99 Int would lose 10 Dex.
An updated information on the Orc Bow:
They appear to do double damage of normal bows on humanoids. This includes Brigands.
I'd like to thank the Stratics Researchers as well as Kawaja, Miwant, and Shedevail.
They are hued a golden color.
When you equip them you lose a lot of Karma.
You also gain +10 Stregth. This raises even if it puts your total above 100 Strength. Exp 110 Strength on a 100 Stength player.
You lose -10 points from either Dexterity or Intelligence. It decides this based on which statistic is higher. Someone with 100 Dex and 99 Int would lose 10 Dex.
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They appear to do double damage of normal bows on humanoids. This includes Brigands.
I'd like to thank the Stratics Researchers as well as Kawaja, Miwant, and Shedevail.
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His polished armor shining brightly in the sunlight, the young paladin rode through his beloved city of Cove. Duncan had only returned to his city of birth a few days ago, after many years of questing. He knew it was time for some much-needed rest before once again traveling to the far reaches of Britannia in search of those in need. Duncan was proud of his city - a place of hardworking men and women, most of whom had left the larger cities for the excitement of a "frontier" town and the hope of a new life.
The paladin’s thoughts turned bleak as he considered that new life. Cove was not what it once had been. Granted, there had always been the threat of the orc fort nearby, making it difficult to maintain a steady sense of peace, but something had changed recently. Scattered reports of movement by the orc tribes continued to come in, yet there seemed to be no sense of purpose behind the orcs’ actions. ‘Twas easy to understand the mind of an orc. Battle, blood, the conquering of all, the taking of land... these were the things that made an orc. These reports, however, did not reflect a steady march of orcs sent to conquer new land. If Duncan did not know better, he would almost say it seemed as if the orcs were being scattered. They were not marching towards a goal, they were running away from some unknown menace - and it was towards Cove that they fled.
As he turned a corner, Duncan spied a boy, no more than fourteen, running towards him. The boy’s leather armor was in tatters and a long gash could be seen on his right arm. He stumbled a few times as he ran towards the paladin, obviously shaken and in pain. Duncan immediately dismounted as the boy reached him and began applying a bandage to the boy’s arm.
"M’lord, they’ve broken through the outer wall!" the boy cried, his speech interrupted by weak coughs.
The paladin’s crimson eyes went wide. "What are you talking about?"
"Orcs, m’lord! Dozens of them! They’ve already slaughtered most of those at the wall and are making their way into the city."
"What of the guards? Cove still holds a small regiment of the king's men, does it not?"
"I don’t know, m’lord. The guards seem pre-occupied with their patrols and regiments. And many have already left to defend Britain and Trinsic against possible attacks." The boy winced as Duncan tightened the bandage. "But the orcs are not attacking either of those cities, nor does it look as if they will."
"Blast! So it seems we of the smaller towns are left to fend for ourselves, then!" yelled the young paladin, his tired eyes turning cold with rage. "Rally the men and women at the square and see if you can send word to our friends in the larger cities. We’ll deal with the vermin ourselves."
The boy saluted as Duncan drew his longsword and reared his mount. Galloping directly towards the main gate, it only took him a few moments to reach the battle. Duncan quickly tried to surmise the situation - where the line was weakest, who fought for him and who was nowhere to be seen, and, perhaps worst of all, the visible desperation of the men who stood as the town’s only defense. The defenders were slowly being pushed back. Duncan knew he had to do something, anything, and with a reckless shout, he kicked his horse into a charge.
The young paladin’s mount crashed into the line, trampling one orc while Duncan slew another with a quick strike to its head. Duncan barked orders to those near him, trying to bring some order to the chaotic fighting. The arrival of the paladin and other veteran warriors gave the defenders hope, and they managed to gain the advantage, slowly pushing the orcs back. Finally, the remaining orcs fled as the townsfolk let out a roaring cheer.
Their cheer was cut short as a shout rang from the top of the wall.
"More orcs...hundreds of them!!"
Duncan readied his sword and tried to calm his nerves. He shouted orders to the men near him, trying to form a battle line. The front gate was still in ruins and the wooden walls would not stop the orcs. The people of Cove were used to dealing with orc raids, but never anything like this. Help had better arrive fast, he thought, or there would soon be two orc forts east of Britain!
The paladin’s thoughts turned bleak as he considered that new life. Cove was not what it once had been. Granted, there had always been the threat of the orc fort nearby, making it difficult to maintain a steady sense of peace, but something had changed recently. Scattered reports of movement by the orc tribes continued to come in, yet there seemed to be no sense of purpose behind the orcs’ actions. ‘Twas easy to understand the mind of an orc. Battle, blood, the conquering of all, the taking of land... these were the things that made an orc. These reports, however, did not reflect a steady march of orcs sent to conquer new land. If Duncan did not know better, he would almost say it seemed as if the orcs were being scattered. They were not marching towards a goal, they were running away from some unknown menace - and it was towards Cove that they fled.
As he turned a corner, Duncan spied a boy, no more than fourteen, running towards him. The boy’s leather armor was in tatters and a long gash could be seen on his right arm. He stumbled a few times as he ran towards the paladin, obviously shaken and in pain. Duncan immediately dismounted as the boy reached him and began applying a bandage to the boy’s arm.
"M’lord, they’ve broken through the outer wall!" the boy cried, his speech interrupted by weak coughs.
The paladin’s crimson eyes went wide. "What are you talking about?"
"Orcs, m’lord! Dozens of them! They’ve already slaughtered most of those at the wall and are making their way into the city."
"What of the guards? Cove still holds a small regiment of the king's men, does it not?"
"I don’t know, m’lord. The guards seem pre-occupied with their patrols and regiments. And many have already left to defend Britain and Trinsic against possible attacks." The boy winced as Duncan tightened the bandage. "But the orcs are not attacking either of those cities, nor does it look as if they will."
"Blast! So it seems we of the smaller towns are left to fend for ourselves, then!" yelled the young paladin, his tired eyes turning cold with rage. "Rally the men and women at the square and see if you can send word to our friends in the larger cities. We’ll deal with the vermin ourselves."
The boy saluted as Duncan drew his longsword and reared his mount. Galloping directly towards the main gate, it only took him a few moments to reach the battle. Duncan quickly tried to surmise the situation - where the line was weakest, who fought for him and who was nowhere to be seen, and, perhaps worst of all, the visible desperation of the men who stood as the town’s only defense. The defenders were slowly being pushed back. Duncan knew he had to do something, anything, and with a reckless shout, he kicked his horse into a charge.
The young paladin’s mount crashed into the line, trampling one orc while Duncan slew another with a quick strike to its head. Duncan barked orders to those near him, trying to bring some order to the chaotic fighting. The arrival of the paladin and other veteran warriors gave the defenders hope, and they managed to gain the advantage, slowly pushing the orcs back. Finally, the remaining orcs fled as the townsfolk let out a roaring cheer.
Their cheer was cut short as a shout rang from the top of the wall.
"More orcs...hundreds of them!!"
Duncan readied his sword and tried to calm his nerves. He shouted orders to the men near him, trying to form a battle line. The front gate was still in ruins and the wooden walls would not stop the orcs. The people of Cove were used to dealing with orc raids, but never anything like this. Help had better arrive fast, he thought, or there would soon be two orc forts east of Britain!
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Orcs Invade Towns - New Orc Found
Several people including our own researchers here at Stratics have informed us of Orc invasions on Towns. Here's what we know!
Orcs sighted invading towns near Orc Camps.
Town list includes, but may not be limited to:Minoc, Skara Brae, Cove, Delucia, Papua, and Ocllo
Guards appear to be ignoring these Orcs within the city limits.
In addition to these invasions a new orc type has been discovered An Orc Chopper. Here's what we know about them:
Orc Choppers are golden hued Orc Lords.
They attack with an executioner's axe that often crumbles when looted from the corpse.
They appear to use the swords skill with the lumberjacking bonus.
They appear to have an unsual magic/parry skill as well.
The corpse has some logs, ring tunic, executioner's axe, leg of lamb, and about 100gp and in a bag can be found around 28 boards.
Seem to be about equal to an Orc Lord in toughness but hit for more damage
And finally it should be noted that many of the new items we're seeing appear game could be used to allow players to fight along side the orcs against their foe.
I'd like to thank the Stratics researchers as well as Dakmore of Sonoma and the many others that wrote to let us know of the new things they had found.
Several people including our own researchers here at Stratics have informed us of Orc invasions on Towns. Here's what we know!
Orcs sighted invading towns near Orc Camps.
Town list includes, but may not be limited to:Minoc, Skara Brae, Cove, Delucia, Papua, and Ocllo
Guards appear to be ignoring these Orcs within the city limits.
- orcchopper.jpg (6.99 KiB) Viewed 8634 times
Orc Choppers are golden hued Orc Lords.
They attack with an executioner's axe that often crumbles when looted from the corpse.
They appear to use the swords skill with the lumberjacking bonus.
They appear to have an unsual magic/parry skill as well.
The corpse has some logs, ring tunic, executioner's axe, leg of lamb, and about 100gp and in a bag can be found around 28 boards.
Seem to be about equal to an Orc Lord in toughness but hit for more damage
- orcchoppercorpse.jpg (9.08 KiB) Viewed 8634 times
I'd like to thank the Stratics researchers as well as Dakmore of Sonoma and the many others that wrote to let us know of the new things they had found.
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Duncan winced as the local healer pulled the bandage tighter around his wounded arm. As he glanced down at the bloody arrow lying on the ground next to him, Duncan was reminded of his own mortality. The wound would heal in time, but he would have to fight without his shield for a while. As he listened to the healer's idle conversation and looked around the dimly lit room, he reminded himself he was lucky to even be alive after the last orc raid. Many of his fellow townspeople had perished trying to stem the never-ending tide of orcs.
"They can't keep coming like this! How many orcs can there possibly be in the world!?" the young healer suddenly asked, changing the subject.
A warrior laying next to Duncan, her head wrapped in a bandage, propped herself up painfully from her cot. "Seems there's no stopping them. There has to be a way to keep them from taking the town!" The warrior pounded her fist into her open palm as if to accentuate her point.
"They don't seem interested in controlling the city, though," Duncan said, more to himself than to the others. "Can't stop a siege if the invaders don't actually try to take anything over. It's almost as if each wave is a separate group of orcs, running from something and just smashing whatever gets in their way, rather than some organized invasion with a purpose. I've heard reports from other towns that the orcs attacking them aren't actually making moves to take control either. Something's got 'em spooked, that's for sure."
Another warrior joined the group, this one having just recently arrived from Britain. "I've heard that too. You know what I think? The orcs aren't the real problem... more like a symptom of something bigger."
"Aye," Duncan nodded. "And whatever it is that's doing this hasn't shown itself yet. So for now, the best we can do is protect our homes and hope for the best."
"That's hardly encouraging," the healer said, giving the Paladin a wink to let him know she wasn't expecting him to have all of the answers. Duncan smiled slightly for the first time in days. He knew the people of Cove needed him to stay strong and optimistic, but every band of orcs that attacked made it harder to keep his spirits high and his determination strong. He remained proud of his people, though, knowing that lesser men and women would have long ago fled along with the royal guards to the safety of Britain or Trinsic. As he looked around at the despair and carnage in the room, he silently vowed to himself that when he did find this unseen enemy, they would pay for the destruction their actions had wrought.
As the group continued to talk, a series of explosions from outside rocked the building, knocking the injured warrior from her cot and hurling glasses and healing bottles from their shelves. Duncan immediately rose, much as it pained him to do so, and gripped his sword tightly.
"Cannons!?" the young healer asked shakily, as she helped the injured warrior back to her cot, the fear evident in her eyes.
Duncan waved his hand dismissively, trying to calm those inside. "Orcs don't use cannons, never have. They must have found some new toys." He pointed at the warrior from Britain. "Come with me."
Both warriors carefully left the safety of their hiding place, warily looking for the new orc threat.
"They can't keep coming like this! How many orcs can there possibly be in the world!?" the young healer suddenly asked, changing the subject.
A warrior laying next to Duncan, her head wrapped in a bandage, propped herself up painfully from her cot. "Seems there's no stopping them. There has to be a way to keep them from taking the town!" The warrior pounded her fist into her open palm as if to accentuate her point.
"They don't seem interested in controlling the city, though," Duncan said, more to himself than to the others. "Can't stop a siege if the invaders don't actually try to take anything over. It's almost as if each wave is a separate group of orcs, running from something and just smashing whatever gets in their way, rather than some organized invasion with a purpose. I've heard reports from other towns that the orcs attacking them aren't actually making moves to take control either. Something's got 'em spooked, that's for sure."
Another warrior joined the group, this one having just recently arrived from Britain. "I've heard that too. You know what I think? The orcs aren't the real problem... more like a symptom of something bigger."
"Aye," Duncan nodded. "And whatever it is that's doing this hasn't shown itself yet. So for now, the best we can do is protect our homes and hope for the best."
"That's hardly encouraging," the healer said, giving the Paladin a wink to let him know she wasn't expecting him to have all of the answers. Duncan smiled slightly for the first time in days. He knew the people of Cove needed him to stay strong and optimistic, but every band of orcs that attacked made it harder to keep his spirits high and his determination strong. He remained proud of his people, though, knowing that lesser men and women would have long ago fled along with the royal guards to the safety of Britain or Trinsic. As he looked around at the despair and carnage in the room, he silently vowed to himself that when he did find this unseen enemy, they would pay for the destruction their actions had wrought.
As the group continued to talk, a series of explosions from outside rocked the building, knocking the injured warrior from her cot and hurling glasses and healing bottles from their shelves. Duncan immediately rose, much as it pained him to do so, and gripped his sword tightly.
"Cannons!?" the young healer asked shakily, as she helped the injured warrior back to her cot, the fear evident in her eyes.
Duncan waved his hand dismissively, trying to calm those inside. "Orcs don't use cannons, never have. They must have found some new toys." He pointed at the warrior from Britain. "Come with me."
Both warriors carefully left the safety of their hiding place, warily looking for the new orc threat.
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Grula scratched her butt. It was hot, she thought sullenly. Too hot. And she was starving. She had asked another scout to steal some food and cider hours ago from a nearby humie camp, and the stupid orc hadn't returned. It was a dangerous time for an orc to be out hunting and they were only doing it whenever they absolutely had to eat.
Turning to glance back down the path for what seemed to be the hundredth time, she heard a rustling. Finally! The orc scout she'd been waiting for burst through the bushes, panting frantically.
"Where my food? Where my drink?" she demanded gruffly, her throat parched from the dry heat.
The other orc looked momentarily confused. "No food! Humies chase then bonk then humies dead!" He pointed back the way he came. "Dere ledder agh rock tingy flyin agh bonk agh bonk, agh--" he gestured wildly and lurched to the side, throwing himself unceremoniously to the ground. "Humies get bonked, fall off four-legs!"
Grula tried to forget her thirst for a moment. "Ledder? Rocks? Who have ledder agh rocks?"
The scout stood clumsily, not bothering to wipe off the dirt that still covered him. "Nub know. Grendul thought it long way killers, but long way killers nub have rock. This different. Not kill, just bonk humie off four-legs. Kill come after but no see what kill." He suddenly stopped and looked around. "Tired. Need drink." He ducked as Grula threw her empty cup at him and growled.
Female orcs rarely fought, but Grula was an exception. Her cooking had been so bad as to have her forbidden from even touching the cookpots, and her smell was, to put it delicately, too much like flowers and spice to have a chance at finding a mate within the orc fort. Scouting worked fine for her... she had few friends, and spent most of her time alone, hidden. Watching. Although there hadn't been much to watch until recently, when every orc scout had been ordered to keep their eyes open for something. What that something was, they didn't know. They just knew that there was something out there, and that it wasn't friendly.
In the distance she heard the shouting of more humies in battle and coming her way on horseback quickly. Picking up the cup she had thrown at the other scout, she turned around and whacked him on the back of the head with it. "Hide! Humies come!" They dove into the bushes and waited for the battle to drift into view.
As they listened to the sounds of the fighting humies it was obvious that they were losing against whatever was in combat with them. Screams ripped through the air and fewer humies could be heard even though the battle was moving closer and closer.
From the bushes across the clearing a male on a four-legs burst through the foliage, panic twisting his face. Grula considered jumping out to meet him but a slight humming sound caught her attention and she hesitated. From behind the humie a blur shot out of the trees and slammed around his neck, knocking him to the ground. His horse, already galloping at full speed, continued running into the distance.
She sat in silence, waiting as the humie slowly got up, obviously dazed from his fall. Whatever did that to the humie, she didn’t want to meet. Thankfully, the other orcs hidden in the bushes had the same idea. Moments went by and nothing came from the bushes to finish off the male. Whatever had attacked was gone now. He stood and, thinking himself to be alone, pulled a jug from his pack and took a long draw of cider.
"Him have drink!" the orc beside Grula breathed as he stared at the jug as if hypnotized. "No see food."
Finally Grula leaned over to her companion in the bushes. "He fit in pot?" she whispered.
"Chopper make him fit!" he whispered back excitedly.
And that night, the orcs feasted.
Turning to glance back down the path for what seemed to be the hundredth time, she heard a rustling. Finally! The orc scout she'd been waiting for burst through the bushes, panting frantically.
"Where my food? Where my drink?" she demanded gruffly, her throat parched from the dry heat.
The other orc looked momentarily confused. "No food! Humies chase then bonk then humies dead!" He pointed back the way he came. "Dere ledder agh rock tingy flyin agh bonk agh bonk, agh--" he gestured wildly and lurched to the side, throwing himself unceremoniously to the ground. "Humies get bonked, fall off four-legs!"
Grula tried to forget her thirst for a moment. "Ledder? Rocks? Who have ledder agh rocks?"
The scout stood clumsily, not bothering to wipe off the dirt that still covered him. "Nub know. Grendul thought it long way killers, but long way killers nub have rock. This different. Not kill, just bonk humie off four-legs. Kill come after but no see what kill." He suddenly stopped and looked around. "Tired. Need drink." He ducked as Grula threw her empty cup at him and growled.
Female orcs rarely fought, but Grula was an exception. Her cooking had been so bad as to have her forbidden from even touching the cookpots, and her smell was, to put it delicately, too much like flowers and spice to have a chance at finding a mate within the orc fort. Scouting worked fine for her... she had few friends, and spent most of her time alone, hidden. Watching. Although there hadn't been much to watch until recently, when every orc scout had been ordered to keep their eyes open for something. What that something was, they didn't know. They just knew that there was something out there, and that it wasn't friendly.
In the distance she heard the shouting of more humies in battle and coming her way on horseback quickly. Picking up the cup she had thrown at the other scout, she turned around and whacked him on the back of the head with it. "Hide! Humies come!" They dove into the bushes and waited for the battle to drift into view.
As they listened to the sounds of the fighting humies it was obvious that they were losing against whatever was in combat with them. Screams ripped through the air and fewer humies could be heard even though the battle was moving closer and closer.
From the bushes across the clearing a male on a four-legs burst through the foliage, panic twisting his face. Grula considered jumping out to meet him but a slight humming sound caught her attention and she hesitated. From behind the humie a blur shot out of the trees and slammed around his neck, knocking him to the ground. His horse, already galloping at full speed, continued running into the distance.
She sat in silence, waiting as the humie slowly got up, obviously dazed from his fall. Whatever did that to the humie, she didn’t want to meet. Thankfully, the other orcs hidden in the bushes had the same idea. Moments went by and nothing came from the bushes to finish off the male. Whatever had attacked was gone now. He stood and, thinking himself to be alone, pulled a jug from his pack and took a long draw of cider.
"Him have drink!" the orc beside Grula breathed as he stared at the jug as if hypnotized. "No see food."
Finally Grula leaned over to her companion in the bushes. "He fit in pot?" she whispered.
"Chopper make him fit!" he whispered back excitedly.
And that night, the orcs feasted.
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Orc Bombers Have Entered the Fray
We have had numerous reports on the newest Orcs to join the battle, Orc Bombers. Here's what we know about them and several pictures:
Orc Bombers are red hued orcs.
They seem to be somewhere between normal orcs and orc mages in difficulty level.
They throw bombs at you that do 20-30 pts of damage each.
The bombs look like flaming oil flasks.
The bombs also remove stamina from you when you are hit by them. Making it difficult for you to escape.
There was an early bug in which the bombs were only causing big damage to unarmored players, this has now been fixed and they cause equal damage to all players, armoured or unarmoured.
Orc bombers also appear to be provoking pets, with great success, onto their owners. Dragon tamers and Nightmare riders should beware.
When killed, their corpses appear as a charred orc corpse.
Their loot varies greatly. They have two piles of about 80-120 gold pieces. One pile in a backpack on their corpse. They sometimes have purple explosion potions on them. They sometimes carry mortar and pestles. They sometimes have piles of various regs(generally sulpherous ash, mandrake, black pearls) ranging between 3-10 each in the backpack. Some have also been found carrying iron ingots. Essentially everything they might need to make their bombs.
They have not been found to be carrying any new 'special' items.
Here are some pictures in both the regular and 3D client of the Orc Bomber, its bombs, and its corpse.
We have had numerous reports on the newest Orcs to join the battle, Orc Bombers. Here's what we know about them and several pictures:
Orc Bombers are red hued orcs.
They seem to be somewhere between normal orcs and orc mages in difficulty level.
They throw bombs at you that do 20-30 pts of damage each.
The bombs look like flaming oil flasks.
The bombs also remove stamina from you when you are hit by them. Making it difficult for you to escape.
There was an early bug in which the bombs were only causing big damage to unarmored players, this has now been fixed and they cause equal damage to all players, armoured or unarmoured.
Orc bombers also appear to be provoking pets, with great success, onto their owners. Dragon tamers and Nightmare riders should beware.
When killed, their corpses appear as a charred orc corpse.
Their loot varies greatly. They have two piles of about 80-120 gold pieces. One pile in a backpack on their corpse. They sometimes have purple explosion potions on them. They sometimes carry mortar and pestles. They sometimes have piles of various regs(generally sulpherous ash, mandrake, black pearls) ranging between 3-10 each in the backpack. Some have also been found carrying iron ingots. Essentially everything they might need to make their bombs.
They have not been found to be carrying any new 'special' items.
Here are some pictures in both the regular and 3D client of the Orc Bomber, its bombs, and its corpse.
- orcbomber.jpg (13.61 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
- orcthrownflask.jpg (9.77 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
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The Bola, a new craftable weapon, has debuted on Oceania and will be coming to all shards very soon. Here's our own Stratics researcher Feenick's report on it:
Bola balls have appeared as loot on Orc Bombers. Balls on Bombers are rather common, around a 50/50% chance of getting a ball or not. They are only appearing as loot on bombers.
First bomber - had ball
2nd bomber - had ball
3rd bomber - no ball
4th bomber - no ball
5th bomber - had ball
6th bomber - no ball
7th bomber - had ball
4 balls, leather and a tinker (starting somewhere under 90 in skill) can make a bola. Tinkering skill was only 87 or so and I made the bola on the first try. When I tried to use it I got a targetting cursor, but I had to dismount my horse and unequip my spellbook before I could do so. I have not yet tried it on anyone, but in theory the weapon will be used to unmount a mounted opponent.
- Feenicks
Thankye, Feenicks, for this news.
Bola balls have appeared as loot on Orc Bombers. Balls on Bombers are rather common, around a 50/50% chance of getting a ball or not. They are only appearing as loot on bombers.
First bomber - had ball
2nd bomber - had ball
3rd bomber - no ball
4th bomber - no ball
5th bomber - had ball
6th bomber - no ball
7th bomber - had ball
- orcbolaball.jpg (17.63 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
- orcbolaballhowto.jpg (7.61 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
- orcbolaballmade.jpg (33.18 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
- Feenicks
Thankye, Feenicks, for this news.
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A group of crows screeched angrily and flew into the sky as the knight shooed them away from the corpse. He surveyed the area, looking for any evidence of the creature or creatures that had attacked the caravan. As he approached the body, he spotted an ax, covered in blood, laying in the dirt.
"Orcs, m’lord," the knight called out to his young leader, holding the ax high. The fact that the word "m’lord" was spat out like a curse did not escape the young noble’s detection.
Jarvis turned to regard the speaker, trying with little success to hide his revulsion. This was the first time he had ever seen dead bodies this closely. He had only just recently been given command of a company of knights...a favor to his father from the local lord. Jarvis knew well enough that few of the knights respected him. Every day he listened to their jeers, spoken just loudly enough for the noble to overhear. He was determined to show no sign of weakness, after spending the last two weeks dealing with their snide remarks and thinly veiled insults. He would get the job done, and win their respect in the process.
Jarvis surveyed the area, pushing aside his discomfort, looking for any signs of a survivor. After a thorough search, it was apparent the massacre had been complete. Not a single human had survived the attack. The entire caravan that had been sent to help reinforce Cove was destroyed completely. The stench of the dead lay thick in the air and Jarvis silently hoped he could maintain his composure as he bent low to examine the body of a fallen man. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps approaching. It was the ranger, the one man in the party who he actually liked.
"Look at the holes in his armor, and that wound along his leg. Orcs don’t make cuts like that," the ranger said, as if he was reading the young noble’s mind.
Jarvis noticed it too. Virtually all of the cuts were small, piercing attacks and slender slashes, not the usual large gash from an ax or the dents from an orc’s club. Jarvis nodded grimly as the ranger continued.
"My guess would be brigands. These attacks are too precise to be orcs."
"We haven’t seen brigands in these parts for a long time, Dustin. Besides, they didn’t take any of the valuables, just the food and other perishables. No, not brigands, someone...or something else did this," Jarvis said as he stood up, gaining confidence now that he was in his element.
The young noble always fancied himself as tracker or a detective, not the knight that his father wished (and had forced) him to be. He much preferred the company of the free spirited scouts and trackers ("common men", as his father would say snobbishly) to the strict discipline of these knights.
A hand on his shoulder pulled Jarvis from his thoughts. He stood up and faced the ranger, expecting him to disagree. After all, this was the ranger’s area of expertise, and he was just a nobleman! He should known no one here would listen to him. Instead, the ranger gave him an approving nod and smiled slightly.
"Well done, M’lord. We’ll make a ranger out of you yet!"
Pleased and more than a little surprised, Jarvis turned and was about to call out to the knights when he heard Dustin make a sound. Jarvis turned to regard Dustin. The ranger’s eyes were wide, staring at Dustin, his lips moving but no words escaping. Jarvis looked from Dustin’s face down to his chest, where a spear point was sticking out, covered in the ranger’s blood. The ranger fell to his knees, then to the ground, taking the spear with him. Jarvis would have gone to his friend to try to help him, but he stood transfixed as a large group of strange looking humans charged into the knights’ ranks.
The enemy had finally shown itself.
Guilhem marveled privately at the craftsmanship of the city, though his contempt for its creators prevented his showing it. Instead, he affected a sneer of disdain as he strode its streets, being careful to make no eye contact with anyone, and ignoring the stares that followed in his wake.
He would have liked to try out one of the keenly honed swords, or even one of the more exotic weapons displayed in the merchants' booths. But he had more pressing matters on his mind, and his role required him to use the more primitive weapons of the savages. The savages were loath to rip holes in the sides of mountains and poison the ground by smelting ore. Instead, they fashioned axes and spears out of rock and wood and bits of strong vine. They hunted for food and used everything they killed. When they broke down an encampment to move on, mere hours would remove every remaining trace that a tribe had once resided there.
Not much else caught his eye as he wound his way through the bazaar en route to his destination. He had made this journey many times, and the novelty of the city had long since worn off. Finally, he strode up the long stairs, sneering at the guards. In the courtyard, he washed his hands and feet in the center fountain, seemingly oblivious to the stares and small gasps generated by his horrible breach of protocol. Guilhem considered urinating on the cobblestones, but decided that would be too far across the line. As his status in this strange army was low and his position tenuous, Guilhem was hardly in a position to push their limits.
"You!" A strangely dressed human, one of Guilhem's new Master's lackeys, said, as if even addressing Guilhem was distasteful. "Clean that mess off." He tossed a dirty oil rag at Guilhem, who caught it without breaking his stare at the other man.
"These are my badges of honor and status," he replied. "I wear them as is my duty."
"That," retorted the lackey, "is food. Why those people insist on wearing their dinner I will never understand. But the Master says if you don't clean up before your audience, I am to have the palace guards wash you. Forcefully. Use the fountain, since you've already defiled it."
Guilhem glowered but didn't say another word as he turned to comply. It took only a few moments with the cloth to rub off the painted lines and swirls and glyphs. He felt naked without them, more naked than he expected he would. Perhaps it was his time spent with the so-called savages or his growing dislike for the minions of his new Master, but he found himself looking forward more and more to donning the paint.
That done, Guilhem followed the other man into the palace proper. He was left in a room, sumptuously decorated with wall hangings and thick carpeting and a small fortune in marble statues and brass lamps. He crossed his arms, shifted his weight to his heels, and stood in the center of the room, awaiting his audience. After a short delay that Guilhem was certain was caused simply by social custom, he was bade into the Master's chamber.
Guilhem could never get accustomed to the constant whirring and clicking and lights in this room. He hated it; it felt unworldly to him. A huge oak dining table was laid out with what must have passed for a feast for the Master's allies, but Guilhem felt no desire to eat. Guilhem truly hated his new role and often pondered if the payment was worth it.
His thoughts were quickly driven to other matters as the Master spoke to him, its grating voice assaulting Guilhem's ears. "Nice of you to respond so quickly to my summons."
Guilhem nodded his head but said nothing, fearing his voice might betray the disgust washing over him in waves.
"Eat while we talk," the Master said in its eternally gravelly voice as the whirring and clicking quickened in pace. Guilhem interpreted the statement as an order, and approached the table. Nothing looked particularly palatable, so he selected a whole cooked fish and proceeded to tear the skin from it. Guilhem discarded half of the fish skin onto an empty platter, and proceeded to peel away layers of the succulent fish flesh with his fingers and pop them into his mouth.
"Well, let us get on with it, then," the lackey said, scowling. "What have you to report?"
"Everything is well, m'lord," Guilhem replied, speaking to the Master and not to the lackey. "The Tribes are driving the greenskins from their camps. The land is bountiful and will make a good home for them."
The other human spoke before Guilhem could continue. "Have you any news from your advance scouts?"
"We have seen cities. They are too deep in greenskin territory for us to risk scouts yet. We have seen them from a distance. The architecture is obviously beyond the greenskin's capabilities. Whoever lives in them look to be as civilized and advanced as you, m'lord." Guilhem's expression remained carefully blank as he studied the other human's face for any reaction. In response, the lackey merely nodded, completely unsurprised by Guilhem's defiance.
The whirring and clicking stopped for a moment before the Master spoke again. "The tribes are to continue their attacks. Drive the greenskins from their homes. Take over their territory." As the Master ponderously issued orders, the lackey retrieved a scroll and a quill from its desk and began to mark it carefully.
Guilhem was dismissed and hurried to another, stranger portion of the palace, where the smell of magic was strong indeed. He presented his orders and was rewarded with a bag containing some jars of paint. Just as quickly, he was escorted to the palace gates, and began the journey back to the Clan. He repainted his body as soon as he left the city, and returned to the village. The last of the orcs would be driven out of the land, and maybe they would take out that other civilized race in the process. He had much work ahead.
"Orcs, m’lord," the knight called out to his young leader, holding the ax high. The fact that the word "m’lord" was spat out like a curse did not escape the young noble’s detection.
Jarvis turned to regard the speaker, trying with little success to hide his revulsion. This was the first time he had ever seen dead bodies this closely. He had only just recently been given command of a company of knights...a favor to his father from the local lord. Jarvis knew well enough that few of the knights respected him. Every day he listened to their jeers, spoken just loudly enough for the noble to overhear. He was determined to show no sign of weakness, after spending the last two weeks dealing with their snide remarks and thinly veiled insults. He would get the job done, and win their respect in the process.
Jarvis surveyed the area, pushing aside his discomfort, looking for any signs of a survivor. After a thorough search, it was apparent the massacre had been complete. Not a single human had survived the attack. The entire caravan that had been sent to help reinforce Cove was destroyed completely. The stench of the dead lay thick in the air and Jarvis silently hoped he could maintain his composure as he bent low to examine the body of a fallen man. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps approaching. It was the ranger, the one man in the party who he actually liked.
"Look at the holes in his armor, and that wound along his leg. Orcs don’t make cuts like that," the ranger said, as if he was reading the young noble’s mind.
Jarvis noticed it too. Virtually all of the cuts were small, piercing attacks and slender slashes, not the usual large gash from an ax or the dents from an orc’s club. Jarvis nodded grimly as the ranger continued.
"My guess would be brigands. These attacks are too precise to be orcs."
"We haven’t seen brigands in these parts for a long time, Dustin. Besides, they didn’t take any of the valuables, just the food and other perishables. No, not brigands, someone...or something else did this," Jarvis said as he stood up, gaining confidence now that he was in his element.
The young noble always fancied himself as tracker or a detective, not the knight that his father wished (and had forced) him to be. He much preferred the company of the free spirited scouts and trackers ("common men", as his father would say snobbishly) to the strict discipline of these knights.
A hand on his shoulder pulled Jarvis from his thoughts. He stood up and faced the ranger, expecting him to disagree. After all, this was the ranger’s area of expertise, and he was just a nobleman! He should known no one here would listen to him. Instead, the ranger gave him an approving nod and smiled slightly.
"Well done, M’lord. We’ll make a ranger out of you yet!"
Pleased and more than a little surprised, Jarvis turned and was about to call out to the knights when he heard Dustin make a sound. Jarvis turned to regard Dustin. The ranger’s eyes were wide, staring at Dustin, his lips moving but no words escaping. Jarvis looked from Dustin’s face down to his chest, where a spear point was sticking out, covered in the ranger’s blood. The ranger fell to his knees, then to the ground, taking the spear with him. Jarvis would have gone to his friend to try to help him, but he stood transfixed as a large group of strange looking humans charged into the knights’ ranks.
The enemy had finally shown itself.
Guilhem marveled privately at the craftsmanship of the city, though his contempt for its creators prevented his showing it. Instead, he affected a sneer of disdain as he strode its streets, being careful to make no eye contact with anyone, and ignoring the stares that followed in his wake.
He would have liked to try out one of the keenly honed swords, or even one of the more exotic weapons displayed in the merchants' booths. But he had more pressing matters on his mind, and his role required him to use the more primitive weapons of the savages. The savages were loath to rip holes in the sides of mountains and poison the ground by smelting ore. Instead, they fashioned axes and spears out of rock and wood and bits of strong vine. They hunted for food and used everything they killed. When they broke down an encampment to move on, mere hours would remove every remaining trace that a tribe had once resided there.
Not much else caught his eye as he wound his way through the bazaar en route to his destination. He had made this journey many times, and the novelty of the city had long since worn off. Finally, he strode up the long stairs, sneering at the guards. In the courtyard, he washed his hands and feet in the center fountain, seemingly oblivious to the stares and small gasps generated by his horrible breach of protocol. Guilhem considered urinating on the cobblestones, but decided that would be too far across the line. As his status in this strange army was low and his position tenuous, Guilhem was hardly in a position to push their limits.
"You!" A strangely dressed human, one of Guilhem's new Master's lackeys, said, as if even addressing Guilhem was distasteful. "Clean that mess off." He tossed a dirty oil rag at Guilhem, who caught it without breaking his stare at the other man.
"These are my badges of honor and status," he replied. "I wear them as is my duty."
"That," retorted the lackey, "is food. Why those people insist on wearing their dinner I will never understand. But the Master says if you don't clean up before your audience, I am to have the palace guards wash you. Forcefully. Use the fountain, since you've already defiled it."
Guilhem glowered but didn't say another word as he turned to comply. It took only a few moments with the cloth to rub off the painted lines and swirls and glyphs. He felt naked without them, more naked than he expected he would. Perhaps it was his time spent with the so-called savages or his growing dislike for the minions of his new Master, but he found himself looking forward more and more to donning the paint.
That done, Guilhem followed the other man into the palace proper. He was left in a room, sumptuously decorated with wall hangings and thick carpeting and a small fortune in marble statues and brass lamps. He crossed his arms, shifted his weight to his heels, and stood in the center of the room, awaiting his audience. After a short delay that Guilhem was certain was caused simply by social custom, he was bade into the Master's chamber.
Guilhem could never get accustomed to the constant whirring and clicking and lights in this room. He hated it; it felt unworldly to him. A huge oak dining table was laid out with what must have passed for a feast for the Master's allies, but Guilhem felt no desire to eat. Guilhem truly hated his new role and often pondered if the payment was worth it.
His thoughts were quickly driven to other matters as the Master spoke to him, its grating voice assaulting Guilhem's ears. "Nice of you to respond so quickly to my summons."
Guilhem nodded his head but said nothing, fearing his voice might betray the disgust washing over him in waves.
"Eat while we talk," the Master said in its eternally gravelly voice as the whirring and clicking quickened in pace. Guilhem interpreted the statement as an order, and approached the table. Nothing looked particularly palatable, so he selected a whole cooked fish and proceeded to tear the skin from it. Guilhem discarded half of the fish skin onto an empty platter, and proceeded to peel away layers of the succulent fish flesh with his fingers and pop them into his mouth.
"Well, let us get on with it, then," the lackey said, scowling. "What have you to report?"
"Everything is well, m'lord," Guilhem replied, speaking to the Master and not to the lackey. "The Tribes are driving the greenskins from their camps. The land is bountiful and will make a good home for them."
The other human spoke before Guilhem could continue. "Have you any news from your advance scouts?"
"We have seen cities. They are too deep in greenskin territory for us to risk scouts yet. We have seen them from a distance. The architecture is obviously beyond the greenskin's capabilities. Whoever lives in them look to be as civilized and advanced as you, m'lord." Guilhem's expression remained carefully blank as he studied the other human's face for any reaction. In response, the lackey merely nodded, completely unsurprised by Guilhem's defiance.
The whirring and clicking stopped for a moment before the Master spoke again. "The tribes are to continue their attacks. Drive the greenskins from their homes. Take over their territory." As the Master ponderously issued orders, the lackey retrieved a scroll and a quill from its desk and began to mark it carefully.
Guilhem was dismissed and hurried to another, stranger portion of the palace, where the smell of magic was strong indeed. He presented his orders and was rewarded with a bag containing some jars of paint. Just as quickly, he was escorted to the palace gates, and began the journey back to the Clan. He repainted his body as soon as he left the city, and returned to the village. The last of the orcs would be driven out of the land, and maybe they would take out that other civilized race in the process. He had much work ahead.
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Jogug kicked a stone and watched as it skittered across the floor and hit the cave wall. He hated this place. No humies to bash, never enough food, and the cave reeked, even by orc standards. He mumbled some irate complaints to the other orcs in the room, although most of them were too busy with complaints of their own to listen.
The cave had been carved out (actually, blown out) by the orc bombers and reinforced by the orc choppers. In truth, it was well built (again, by orc standards), but many of the orcs had grown weary of it. Orcs cared little for the beauty of the outdoors, but Jogug missed the warmth of the sun and the openness of his home near Cove. Jogug wasn't exactly the bravest of orcs, but he had had enough of this hiding. And so had his lord, Sorgulg.
Jogug quieted his mumbling as Sorgulg raised his voice.
"NO!" the orc lord shouted. "No more hiding!"
This was followed by more shouting from the orc mage Opathu. Jogug could not hear the words exactly, but he could tell the mage disagreed with Sorgulg, preferring the safety of the cave. Jogug thought the sentiment typical of the mages. He didn't trust any orc that didn't bash things with an ax, although he did want to get his hands on some of those bottles the orc bombers kept. He liked the noises they made.
"NO! We go without you den. Take back home. You hide like mongbat if yub want to," Sorgulg retorted, his temper quickly rising.
Jogug knew his lord and the mage well enough to know what would happen next, and was not surprised in the least when he heard Opathu yelp, no doubt dodging an attack from Sorgulg. Jogug would have smiled at the thought, and in fact was about to, when he heard the orc mage yell for help.
The ground shook a bit. Jogug suddenly realized what was coming, and his smile quickly faded into a frown. Gathering what courage he had (which wasn't much), Jogug prepared for a fight. The ground shook again, this time much more forcefully, as a hulking brute of an orc entered the room. Easily twice Jogug's mass, with muscles bulging, the large orc immediately went to enter the room where Sorgulg and the mage were arguing. Jogug, trembling despite his attempts to hide his fear, stood to intercept the brute.
The huge orc smiled a wicked grin as it picked Jogug completely off the ground and threw him headlong into another group of orcs. The brutes had a habit of throwing any orcs who got in their way, since it not only made them feel powerful, but watching the smaller orcs grapple with whatever creature they had been thrown onto was really great fun. The brute was just getting ready to hurl another hapless orc when Sorgulg stormed out, boldly striding right past the imposing orc.
Jogug quickly followed Sorgulg as they left the cave, wanting nothing more to do with the hulking orc or those that wished to stay in the cave. He liked the idea of clomping more painted humies and more importantly, he wanted his home back.
"No more hiding," he thought, echoing his Lord's words and looking nervously back at the cave as another orc yelped and was thrown from the dark cavern.
It was time to clomp!
* * * *
Duncan gathered the men and women of Cove into the Inn and waited for them all to settle down. The people were tired and weary from the fighting and it took him a while to secure their attention. Duncan was happy for the time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, since he knew the proposal he was about to give them would not be a popular one. Finally the room quieted and all eyes and ears went to Duncan.
The young Paladin, who had only months ago just begun his questing, was suddenly acutely aware of all the faces watching him. How had he become the leader of this desperate group? He cleared his throat and began speaking, cautiously at first.
"My friends, for weeks we have defended our town against these orc raids, hoping we could weather this terrible storm. Now these savages threaten our homes as well. It is time we took the fight to them and ended this nonsense before all of Cove is destroyed. Neither the orcs nor the savages seem willing or able to end this themselves... so it is now up to us."
The Paladin paused for a moment, watching the faces of the townsfolk for any sign of reaction. He saw their eyes still focused on him, and continued his speech. Conviction began to creep into his voice as he realized that they were actually listening.
"The time has come for us to leave the relative safety of our homes and take this fight to the orc fort! With these," the paladin held up a mask of orcish kin, "we can rid our land of the savages and put things back the way they were."
At this point, one of the elders of the town jumped from his seat, glaring at the paladin. "Help the orcs? Are you mad!? We've endured their attacks for generations; we'd be better off helping these savages! They're at least human... maybe we can reason with them!"
Duncan had expected this. He knew the deep-rooted hatred the residents of Cove held towards the orcs. But he also knew there would be no negotiations with the savages. The savages were intelligent, cunning, crafty, and were better equipped than the orcs. He had also heard rumors of savages mounted on huge, unfamiliar beasts and powerful savage spellcasters capable of raining lighting down on their enemies from the skies. That, coupled with their terrifying prowess against the most powerful of beasts made the orcs seem to be the lesser of two evils. Before Duncan could respond, the elder spoke again.
"We have already made up our minds, Paladin. We will use their own war paint to blend in with these savages. They'll never know who we are, and we can destroy the orcs once and for all." With that, the elder left the room, and at least half the gathered people followed behind him.
Duncan watched them leave and wondered if this moment would mean the difference between living with the savages or the orcs. Not a happy prospect either way, but he knew he had to do what he could to see that they were not left to the hands of the savages. Turning back to the remaining townsfolk, Duncan began to lay out his plans, and handed out orc masks to those who would fight with the orcs. Those without masks would remain to defend the town.
The time had come to drive the intruders out for good.
The cave had been carved out (actually, blown out) by the orc bombers and reinforced by the orc choppers. In truth, it was well built (again, by orc standards), but many of the orcs had grown weary of it. Orcs cared little for the beauty of the outdoors, but Jogug missed the warmth of the sun and the openness of his home near Cove. Jogug wasn't exactly the bravest of orcs, but he had had enough of this hiding. And so had his lord, Sorgulg.
Jogug quieted his mumbling as Sorgulg raised his voice.
"NO!" the orc lord shouted. "No more hiding!"
This was followed by more shouting from the orc mage Opathu. Jogug could not hear the words exactly, but he could tell the mage disagreed with Sorgulg, preferring the safety of the cave. Jogug thought the sentiment typical of the mages. He didn't trust any orc that didn't bash things with an ax, although he did want to get his hands on some of those bottles the orc bombers kept. He liked the noises they made.
"NO! We go without you den. Take back home. You hide like mongbat if yub want to," Sorgulg retorted, his temper quickly rising.
Jogug knew his lord and the mage well enough to know what would happen next, and was not surprised in the least when he heard Opathu yelp, no doubt dodging an attack from Sorgulg. Jogug would have smiled at the thought, and in fact was about to, when he heard the orc mage yell for help.
The ground shook a bit. Jogug suddenly realized what was coming, and his smile quickly faded into a frown. Gathering what courage he had (which wasn't much), Jogug prepared for a fight. The ground shook again, this time much more forcefully, as a hulking brute of an orc entered the room. Easily twice Jogug's mass, with muscles bulging, the large orc immediately went to enter the room where Sorgulg and the mage were arguing. Jogug, trembling despite his attempts to hide his fear, stood to intercept the brute.
The huge orc smiled a wicked grin as it picked Jogug completely off the ground and threw him headlong into another group of orcs. The brutes had a habit of throwing any orcs who got in their way, since it not only made them feel powerful, but watching the smaller orcs grapple with whatever creature they had been thrown onto was really great fun. The brute was just getting ready to hurl another hapless orc when Sorgulg stormed out, boldly striding right past the imposing orc.
Jogug quickly followed Sorgulg as they left the cave, wanting nothing more to do with the hulking orc or those that wished to stay in the cave. He liked the idea of clomping more painted humies and more importantly, he wanted his home back.
"No more hiding," he thought, echoing his Lord's words and looking nervously back at the cave as another orc yelped and was thrown from the dark cavern.
It was time to clomp!
* * * *
Duncan gathered the men and women of Cove into the Inn and waited for them all to settle down. The people were tired and weary from the fighting and it took him a while to secure their attention. Duncan was happy for the time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, since he knew the proposal he was about to give them would not be a popular one. Finally the room quieted and all eyes and ears went to Duncan.
The young Paladin, who had only months ago just begun his questing, was suddenly acutely aware of all the faces watching him. How had he become the leader of this desperate group? He cleared his throat and began speaking, cautiously at first.
"My friends, for weeks we have defended our town against these orc raids, hoping we could weather this terrible storm. Now these savages threaten our homes as well. It is time we took the fight to them and ended this nonsense before all of Cove is destroyed. Neither the orcs nor the savages seem willing or able to end this themselves... so it is now up to us."
The Paladin paused for a moment, watching the faces of the townsfolk for any sign of reaction. He saw their eyes still focused on him, and continued his speech. Conviction began to creep into his voice as he realized that they were actually listening.
"The time has come for us to leave the relative safety of our homes and take this fight to the orc fort! With these," the paladin held up a mask of orcish kin, "we can rid our land of the savages and put things back the way they were."
At this point, one of the elders of the town jumped from his seat, glaring at the paladin. "Help the orcs? Are you mad!? We've endured their attacks for generations; we'd be better off helping these savages! They're at least human... maybe we can reason with them!"
Duncan had expected this. He knew the deep-rooted hatred the residents of Cove held towards the orcs. But he also knew there would be no negotiations with the savages. The savages were intelligent, cunning, crafty, and were better equipped than the orcs. He had also heard rumors of savages mounted on huge, unfamiliar beasts and powerful savage spellcasters capable of raining lighting down on their enemies from the skies. That, coupled with their terrifying prowess against the most powerful of beasts made the orcs seem to be the lesser of two evils. Before Duncan could respond, the elder spoke again.
"We have already made up our minds, Paladin. We will use their own war paint to blend in with these savages. They'll never know who we are, and we can destroy the orcs once and for all." With that, the elder left the room, and at least half the gathered people followed behind him.
Duncan watched them leave and wondered if this moment would mean the difference between living with the savages or the orcs. Not a happy prospect either way, but he knew he had to do what he could to see that they were not left to the hands of the savages. Turning back to the remaining townsfolk, Duncan began to lay out his plans, and handed out orc masks to those who would fight with the orcs. Those without masks would remain to defend the town.
The time had come to drive the intruders out for good.
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Meet the Savages
That's right, we finally know what all those Orcs have been frightened of. Here's the preliminary report that our own FatherGanja made on the discovery of Savages:
I started in Cove, to see how the town closest to the fort was fairing. It was a battlefield. Dead orcs and humans everywhere, with a pile of 20 bodies around the healers(there was a scout camped outside picking off the newly resurrected). The first thing I noticed was the red named Savage Npc's
Like Ophidians and Terathans, they attack each other on sight with ill regard to others around them.
Here we have a shot of the female Savage.
After finding a wandering healer outside of Cove, I made my way into the actual fort to see how it was there. All that was left were the ettins, since the savages KILLED ALL THE ORCS! They completely took over the fort.
After awhile, I noticed that some of them were wearing differently colored tribal masks; green, purple and I think black(not sure, it could have been a shadow over the mask). The loot they carry seems to be bone arms and legs, a spear and a few bandages with around 20-40 gold. I don't know if they have the berries, as I was reduced to checking the already dead for information.
Here are a few other shots of the Savages and the various masks.
And here's some more information from our own Feenicks:
They have a spear, bone arm and leg armour, and in the bag, a few bandages and around 30-40 gold.
Having killed my first savage and finding nothing special a visitor showed me the masks and handed it over for further investigation.
Having great trouble trying to stay alive with dealing with all the orcs AND savages yet really just wanting to kill a bunch of savages to see if I could get myself any berries, I went and got my mage/tamer. Don't worry - I didn't take any dragons or anything, I just wanted to wear an orc mask, and well, quite frankly Duke Feenicks would not wear such an item. Morrigan however has no such aversions.
The savages who have the colored tribal masks are actually visibly wearing them... as you can see here.
Some have reported that orcs have had them on their corpses, it's safe to assume they've looted them from savages they killed. The orc scouts really give the savages a run for their money, but both savages and orc scouts can heal.
Here is the damage of a single flamestrike on a savage... low 90's magery, 70's EI.
But the BIG surprise... is that savages use bolas!! I am very glad there were no orcs around at this time to target my Frenzied osty "Fred," for I fear that would of made my mask blow up.
The masks seem to be nothing more than decoration, Savages still attack you (I'd assume you need the paint for them not to) and there are no karma lowering properties or anything else yet that I could see.
When Calandryll was complimented by a player on how good the savages look, he had this to say:
Thanks, although I have to give credit to our artists for that one as I can barely draw a box.
Also, the savage males are supposed to have bola balls as loot. They don't right now. It's a bug mostly due to the fact that I am a coding newb (stupid out of place parenthesis!) and I made a last minute change. It'll get fixed though.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
And something else worth noting from Calandryll:
The majority of savage names are named after OSI staff, mostly Dev and QA. I changed the names to make them sound more in keeping with what a savage might be called. There is one called Kahl too.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
You can noticed this in one of the images above. Sinthe remind you of anyone? Or perhaps this one here; Ogger?
Our tamer forum moderator, Mordanna, had this warning to add:
If you value your pets, do not take them to fight the new savage NPCs!
I logged on to Oceania to see what it was all about and went to Cove to watch the battle. A single savage NPC can kill a nightmare at over 75% health with 3 whacks, a dragon or wyrm in a little more.
Calandryll commented on how this ability of the savages to take on such large beasts fits into their planned lore:
Well, the fiction for it is that savages are adept at taking on large (think things like wooly mammoths - or in UO terms, dragons) and/or deamonic creatures (deamons, nightmares, etc.). They understand where the weak spots are and are able to do more damage. I don't consider this a nerf though, but it does represent some challenges for tamers. You can't simply bring in two dragons and let them run into the fort...they'll die. Now you have to keep track of your pets, heal them, and make sure they don't take on more than they can handle.
- Calandryll
And this:
Well, let me put it this way. Savages are tough against a dragon, no doubt about that. But dragons can eat a lone savage alive virtually every time, especially if the dragon is being healed. Savages do lots of damage when they hit a dragon, but they don't hit all the time. Their weapon skill is less than that of a dragon, so the dragon (along with it's breath and spells) hit a LOT more often. But yes, people need to change their tactics with their pets. They can't just meander into a spawn and let their dragons loose against savages.
- Calandryll
Our Items and Artifacts Archivist, Courage, put together this great collection of the 29 different new colors of Savage Masks.
The 30th color is the original unhued tribal mask that we already had in game.
Calandryll confirmed it with this comment:
Correct. The savages have 29 colors, plus the regular ones. Some of the colors are very similar, but there are 29 different hue numbers in the range.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
Now that you have your new hued tribal mask, you may be wondering where you can get that fabulous body tatoo from. Well wonder no more. The body tatoo comes from tribal paint. Tribal paint is made by those with the cooking skill out of berries carried by female savages. The tribal paint either wears off after death or can be cleaned off with the use of an oil cloth.
Here's what our own Phil of Europa had to report on his first findings:
Berries are spawning on female savages, it seems to be about 1 in 3 carry them, a similar proportion to the masks.
With 80 cooking you can use a bag of flour on the berry (which looks like a valorite apple) and make "savage kin paint" (which looks like white/silver honey).
Apply that by double clicking and you go white. In 3D your skin changes to the savage pattern, in 2D you just go white. It is meant to last a week, real or game week, I don't know.
Doc Brown of the Britannia Society of Chefs(BSC) gave us some more details on the savage body paint:
80 cooking is the required skill.
They DO stop savages from attacking you. It will burn off doing 50 damage if you attack a savage. You cannot wear an orc mask at the same time, though you can wear the evil orc helm. The paint pot is a single use item. It comes off you when you die or an oil cloth will remove it.
I spent a few hours at West Britain Bank charging 1k for each berry to paint conversion and made over 140k - hehehe
Important! The paint uses a silver colored honey pot as a graphic. It WILL stack with honey (including, I think, when you make it) thus turning it into honey. So don't carry honey.
I'd like to thank all the Stratics researchers that have helped so much in gathering all this information as well as the readers that report to us.
[ Comment on this article ]
Posted on Wednesday, July 11, 2001, 10:13 PM EDT by Ce'Nedra Willow (QuestandEventNews)
Ambassador Orkie Visits Orc Cave
Pelle from the Napa Valley news team passed on this excellent report to us of Ambassador Orkie's visit to the newly found Orc Cave in Orc Valley.
Hi friends! I hope you remember me. Yes, I warned you many weeks ago to stop this silly invasion stuff and just get along, but you didn't listen to me did you? Now we have a bunch of Casper the friendly Ghosts running around too. *Sigh*
Well, now the orcs have had to go underground just to survive. What a miserable existence. I hope you're happy! I took a little trip just to see what was going on over there.
Going in looked scary. I have a dreadful fear of closed spaces, but I donning my armor (learning from the last few times when the orcs killed me) I made my way inside. As my eyes adjusted I saw a long wooden wall...perhaps their first line of defense.
Just inside that were these nasties. I'd advise not to run headlong into them.
There were lots of sections in this dungeon...this was their corpser room. Perhaps it's like a greenhouse type thing with the orcs.
Later, I saw what must be their shrine. The foul stench was quite powerful. I figured that was an aura of reverence to them. Can you say: Orc Easter Island? I have no idea what a 'dishing stump' is. When I started doing my dirty dishes in there the orcs were unhappy!
They sent this guy after me!
But he was a sweetheart. I found out that 'brute' was just his aftershave. He showed me the orcs latest invention. Probably what helped to make this whole cavern type thingy.
When I told him I thought it looked like a cannon with a pitchfork sticking out he got all huffy. Said that orcs were exquisite artists stuck in the bodies of lunkheads. At least some of them. He was quite proud of this creation:
Some white looking flames...blah blah blah. What's the big deal? I was still unimpressed so he gave me a wink and showed me where they made mongbat blood wine. He said it was rather tasty, but I declined.
Getting rather frustrated with my apathy he said there was one more item that I must see. There was a natural spring inside their dungeon and his big plan was to bottle this water and sell it. Supposedly it has healing properties, but I thought it was a giant scam.
There was a couple of names for this new water he tossed about.
Eau de Wet Orc &
Swamp Juice
I didn't like either, but it was fun to walk across the water like a deity. I think I impressed the brute enough to make me an honorary orc buddy. Unfortunately, it included a lifetime supply of mongbat blood wine:
Can you say: "The contents of my stomach will be on display for all to see as I ralph it up?"
Well, that's all for now. I better get outta here before those Casper types find this place. I'm not cut out for bloodshed!
Thankye Pelle and Ambassador Orkie!
- savagenews.jpg (9.07 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
I started in Cove, to see how the town closest to the fort was fairing. It was a battlefield. Dead orcs and humans everywhere, with a pile of 20 bodies around the healers(there was a scout camped outside picking off the newly resurrected). The first thing I noticed was the red named Savage Npc's
- savageattack.jpg (21.11 KiB) Viewed 8632 times
Here we have a shot of the female Savage.
After finding a wandering healer outside of Cove, I made my way into the actual fort to see how it was there. All that was left were the ettins, since the savages KILLED ALL THE ORCS! They completely took over the fort.
After awhile, I noticed that some of them were wearing differently colored tribal masks; green, purple and I think black(not sure, it could have been a shadow over the mask). The loot they carry seems to be bone arms and legs, a spear and a few bandages with around 20-40 gold. I don't know if they have the berries, as I was reduced to checking the already dead for information.
Here are a few other shots of the Savages and the various masks.
And here's some more information from our own Feenicks:
They have a spear, bone arm and leg armour, and in the bag, a few bandages and around 30-40 gold.
Having killed my first savage and finding nothing special a visitor showed me the masks and handed it over for further investigation.
Having great trouble trying to stay alive with dealing with all the orcs AND savages yet really just wanting to kill a bunch of savages to see if I could get myself any berries, I went and got my mage/tamer. Don't worry - I didn't take any dragons or anything, I just wanted to wear an orc mask, and well, quite frankly Duke Feenicks would not wear such an item. Morrigan however has no such aversions.
The savages who have the colored tribal masks are actually visibly wearing them... as you can see here.
Some have reported that orcs have had them on their corpses, it's safe to assume they've looted them from savages they killed. The orc scouts really give the savages a run for their money, but both savages and orc scouts can heal.
Here is the damage of a single flamestrike on a savage... low 90's magery, 70's EI.
But the BIG surprise... is that savages use bolas!! I am very glad there were no orcs around at this time to target my Frenzied osty "Fred," for I fear that would of made my mask blow up.
The masks seem to be nothing more than decoration, Savages still attack you (I'd assume you need the paint for them not to) and there are no karma lowering properties or anything else yet that I could see.
When Calandryll was complimented by a player on how good the savages look, he had this to say:
Thanks, although I have to give credit to our artists for that one as I can barely draw a box.
Also, the savage males are supposed to have bola balls as loot. They don't right now. It's a bug mostly due to the fact that I am a coding newb (stupid out of place parenthesis!) and I made a last minute change. It'll get fixed though.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
And something else worth noting from Calandryll:
The majority of savage names are named after OSI staff, mostly Dev and QA. I changed the names to make them sound more in keeping with what a savage might be called. There is one called Kahl too.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
You can noticed this in one of the images above. Sinthe remind you of anyone? Or perhaps this one here; Ogger?
Our tamer forum moderator, Mordanna, had this warning to add:
If you value your pets, do not take them to fight the new savage NPCs!
I logged on to Oceania to see what it was all about and went to Cove to watch the battle. A single savage NPC can kill a nightmare at over 75% health with 3 whacks, a dragon or wyrm in a little more.
Calandryll commented on how this ability of the savages to take on such large beasts fits into their planned lore:
Well, the fiction for it is that savages are adept at taking on large (think things like wooly mammoths - or in UO terms, dragons) and/or deamonic creatures (deamons, nightmares, etc.). They understand where the weak spots are and are able to do more damage. I don't consider this a nerf though, but it does represent some challenges for tamers. You can't simply bring in two dragons and let them run into the fort...they'll die. Now you have to keep track of your pets, heal them, and make sure they don't take on more than they can handle.
- Calandryll
And this:
Well, let me put it this way. Savages are tough against a dragon, no doubt about that. But dragons can eat a lone savage alive virtually every time, especially if the dragon is being healed. Savages do lots of damage when they hit a dragon, but they don't hit all the time. Their weapon skill is less than that of a dragon, so the dragon (along with it's breath and spells) hit a LOT more often. But yes, people need to change their tactics with their pets. They can't just meander into a spawn and let their dragons loose against savages.
- Calandryll
Our Items and Artifacts Archivist, Courage, put together this great collection of the 29 different new colors of Savage Masks.
The 30th color is the original unhued tribal mask that we already had in game.
Calandryll confirmed it with this comment:
Correct. The savages have 29 colors, plus the regular ones. Some of the colors are very similar, but there are 29 different hue numbers in the range.
-Jonathan "Calandryll" Hanna
Designer, Ongoing Content
Now that you have your new hued tribal mask, you may be wondering where you can get that fabulous body tatoo from. Well wonder no more. The body tatoo comes from tribal paint. Tribal paint is made by those with the cooking skill out of berries carried by female savages. The tribal paint either wears off after death or can be cleaned off with the use of an oil cloth.
Here's what our own Phil of Europa had to report on his first findings:
Berries are spawning on female savages, it seems to be about 1 in 3 carry them, a similar proportion to the masks.
With 80 cooking you can use a bag of flour on the berry (which looks like a valorite apple) and make "savage kin paint" (which looks like white/silver honey).
Apply that by double clicking and you go white. In 3D your skin changes to the savage pattern, in 2D you just go white. It is meant to last a week, real or game week, I don't know.
Doc Brown of the Britannia Society of Chefs(BSC) gave us some more details on the savage body paint:
80 cooking is the required skill.
They DO stop savages from attacking you. It will burn off doing 50 damage if you attack a savage. You cannot wear an orc mask at the same time, though you can wear the evil orc helm. The paint pot is a single use item. It comes off you when you die or an oil cloth will remove it.
I spent a few hours at West Britain Bank charging 1k for each berry to paint conversion and made over 140k - hehehe
Important! The paint uses a silver colored honey pot as a graphic. It WILL stack with honey (including, I think, when you make it) thus turning it into honey. So don't carry honey.
I'd like to thank all the Stratics researchers that have helped so much in gathering all this information as well as the readers that report to us.
[ Comment on this article ]
Posted on Wednesday, July 11, 2001, 10:13 PM EDT by Ce'Nedra Willow (QuestandEventNews)
Ambassador Orkie Visits Orc Cave
Pelle from the Napa Valley news team passed on this excellent report to us of Ambassador Orkie's visit to the newly found Orc Cave in Orc Valley.
Hi friends! I hope you remember me. Yes, I warned you many weeks ago to stop this silly invasion stuff and just get along, but you didn't listen to me did you? Now we have a bunch of Casper the friendly Ghosts running around too. *Sigh*
Well, now the orcs have had to go underground just to survive. What a miserable existence. I hope you're happy! I took a little trip just to see what was going on over there.
Going in looked scary. I have a dreadful fear of closed spaces, but I donning my armor (learning from the last few times when the orcs killed me) I made my way inside. As my eyes adjusted I saw a long wooden wall...perhaps their first line of defense.
Just inside that were these nasties. I'd advise not to run headlong into them.
There were lots of sections in this dungeon...this was their corpser room. Perhaps it's like a greenhouse type thing with the orcs.
Later, I saw what must be their shrine. The foul stench was quite powerful. I figured that was an aura of reverence to them. Can you say: Orc Easter Island? I have no idea what a 'dishing stump' is. When I started doing my dirty dishes in there the orcs were unhappy!
They sent this guy after me!
But he was a sweetheart. I found out that 'brute' was just his aftershave. He showed me the orcs latest invention. Probably what helped to make this whole cavern type thingy.
When I told him I thought it looked like a cannon with a pitchfork sticking out he got all huffy. Said that orcs were exquisite artists stuck in the bodies of lunkheads. At least some of them. He was quite proud of this creation:
Some white looking flames...blah blah blah. What's the big deal? I was still unimpressed so he gave me a wink and showed me where they made mongbat blood wine. He said it was rather tasty, but I declined.
Getting rather frustrated with my apathy he said there was one more item that I must see. There was a natural spring inside their dungeon and his big plan was to bottle this water and sell it. Supposedly it has healing properties, but I thought it was a giant scam.
There was a couple of names for this new water he tossed about.
Eau de Wet Orc &
Swamp Juice
I didn't like either, but it was fun to walk across the water like a deity. I think I impressed the brute enough to make me an honorary orc buddy. Unfortunately, it included a lifetime supply of mongbat blood wine:
Can you say: "The contents of my stomach will be on display for all to see as I ralph it up?"
Well, that's all for now. I better get outta here before those Casper types find this place. I'm not cut out for bloodshed!
Thankye Pelle and Ambassador Orkie!