04 Jan 2006
The Ogre was big nearly ten foot in height, five from shoulder to shoulder. He bore little as he walked a large leather bag, which looked tiny strapped onto the Ogres muscled back, carried a raw Rhinox leg, still covered in thick fur and blood still spilling from it, smearing onto the Ogres back.
A large iron plate, made by the Ogre himself, covered his belly. Painted in blood was the symbol of the Great Maw, a ring of teeth all pointing inwards. It was Ektors most prized possession aside from the belly that was concealed beneath it.
***
It had been three days since Ektor left the relative safety of the Gorefang tribes stronghold. He had finally succumbed to the wander-lust that had been growing inside of him since he only as tall as a Gnoblar, and now he sought to become like the Ogres of legend the Maneaters of the Ogre Kingdoms.
***
The Howling Wastes and the plains of Zharr now far behind him, Ektor was getting his first glances of the Worlds Edge Mountains, their icy tips being revealed only briefly before again being swallowed by the clouds.
Ektor had sighted several small bands of Goblins running to and fro across the Badlands, but few had bothered him. But for three, they all scurried off at the sight of him. Those three followed him now chests and bellies puffed out, imitating the Ogres stride.
Ektor walked faster, trying to get away from the annoying greenskins. The goblins fell into a run behind him, still trying to copy his movements as their legs pounded the yellowed grass underfoot.
What do yer want, yer little thieves? Away with yer, before I start feelin hungry! Ektor said, getting frustrated at the goblins.
Most lordly-strong master, me is Sargo, and these is my mates Kurok and Brik. We is coming here to be your most loyally servants! The goblin closest to Ektor said, looking at the Ogre with admiration in his beady little eyes.
I don need no servants, specially not gobbolings like yerselfs. Ektor said, barely suppressing a laugh at the stupidity of the greenskins.
Oh, but you is, master-lord big un! If you keeps going the way you is going now, you is going to wander right into Ironclaw tribe territories, and if you is going in there, even you is not coming back out again. We can show you the ways to the mountains there, Sargo said, pointing with a wrinkled green finger towards where he knew the Worlds Edge to be, If you lets us stay with your most largely-strong master-self!
Ektor looked at the goblin angrily, and yet he knew there was some truth in Sargos words. He could tell he was approaching Orcish land the ashes of many campfires littered the ground all over the place, and the skulls of livestock lay rotting beside them. With an exasperated sigh, Ektor said,
Fine! Yer comin with me. But if yer annoys me any more, I iz gonna eat yer. Undastood? The Goblins nodded fervently, and chased after the Ogre as he strode off.
SM
A large iron plate, made by the Ogre himself, covered his belly. Painted in blood was the symbol of the Great Maw, a ring of teeth all pointing inwards. It was Ektors most prized possession aside from the belly that was concealed beneath it.
***
It had been three days since Ektor left the relative safety of the Gorefang tribes stronghold. He had finally succumbed to the wander-lust that had been growing inside of him since he only as tall as a Gnoblar, and now he sought to become like the Ogres of legend the Maneaters of the Ogre Kingdoms.
***
The Howling Wastes and the plains of Zharr now far behind him, Ektor was getting his first glances of the Worlds Edge Mountains, their icy tips being revealed only briefly before again being swallowed by the clouds.
Ektor had sighted several small bands of Goblins running to and fro across the Badlands, but few had bothered him. But for three, they all scurried off at the sight of him. Those three followed him now chests and bellies puffed out, imitating the Ogres stride.
Ektor walked faster, trying to get away from the annoying greenskins. The goblins fell into a run behind him, still trying to copy his movements as their legs pounded the yellowed grass underfoot.
What do yer want, yer little thieves? Away with yer, before I start feelin hungry! Ektor said, getting frustrated at the goblins.
Most lordly-strong master, me is Sargo, and these is my mates Kurok and Brik. We is coming here to be your most loyally servants! The goblin closest to Ektor said, looking at the Ogre with admiration in his beady little eyes.
I don need no servants, specially not gobbolings like yerselfs. Ektor said, barely suppressing a laugh at the stupidity of the greenskins.
Oh, but you is, master-lord big un! If you keeps going the way you is going now, you is going to wander right into Ironclaw tribe territories, and if you is going in there, even you is not coming back out again. We can show you the ways to the mountains there, Sargo said, pointing with a wrinkled green finger towards where he knew the Worlds Edge to be, If you lets us stay with your most largely-strong master-self!
Ektor looked at the goblin angrily, and yet he knew there was some truth in Sargos words. He could tell he was approaching Orcish land the ashes of many campfires littered the ground all over the place, and the skulls of livestock lay rotting beside them. With an exasperated sigh, Ektor said,
Fine! Yer comin with me. But if yer annoys me any more, I iz gonna eat yer. Undastood? The Goblins nodded fervently, and chased after the Ogre as he strode off.
SM
Sargo is funny 