- Joined
- Jul 27, 2007
- Messages
- 793
The sun was slowly burning the orc wiseman's skin. It seemed that he was years older than he actually was. Still, he was old, even for the greenskin orcs' standart. And in his late years of his life he went on an adventure. His purpose was to find the ancient city of Proslav.
He knew that the chance to find the capital of orcs' homeland was minimal. In this barren waste, where rarely living creatures were seen, there was only sand. Sand and rocks. And bones, ofcourse. The bones of the creatures, that didn't escape the gods' wrath.
Now the orc wasn't afraid of the gods. No, he was afraid of the sandstorm that was coming after them.
- Come, Ursla. - called his wolf the old orc. The wolf barked and runed after him.
He knew that the chance to find Proslav were minimal. Still, there was a chance to find a shelter for the sandstorm.
He found it just before the storm striked. Near the top of a hill, with sun crystal deposits on it, he found an old turtlehouse. It was made from nothing but Giant Turtle shell and some wood. The orc didn't have time to ask himself how the shell got here. He quickly opened the tent he was carrying with him, put all of his books there, and entered the turtlehouse with his dog.
The storm continued for 2 long days. The orc was afraid that his water will end. It didn't happened. However, he still needed to find a water spring.
He was lucky to find one, with a small Sand Elves outpost near it. The Sand Elves were one of the Greenskin orcs' best allies. They suffered alot together during the fire wars and the wars of the fallen humen. And survived. Just to suffer more.
Strangely, the outpost seemed abbadoned from far. However, when he drew near, he saw lights in the windows. "It's getting late" he thought.
Then he noticed the lack of sun crystals, with which the Yellow Mountais were overfilled. With no suncrystals the nights in those high-placed deserst were cold. Really cold.
So he was lucky to find water and lucky to find (again) shelter for the night. Later, after he met the outpost's captain and asked for a place to stay, the family which gave him a bed and a roof, served the dinner in the small dining room. The Sand Elves know when to talk and when no. They ate in silence. And while eating the wise old orc was thinking.
"Who am I?"
"What's my name, why can't I remember it?"
"Why I must find Proslav?"
"Why did I went on such a quest?"
The suncrystals always make you forget such simple things such your name, or even race. The orc later went to bed and felt asleep with the thought of the ancient, magnificent orc capital.
Will be continued.
He knew that the chance to find the capital of orcs' homeland was minimal. In this barren waste, where rarely living creatures were seen, there was only sand. Sand and rocks. And bones, ofcourse. The bones of the creatures, that didn't escape the gods' wrath.
Now the orc wasn't afraid of the gods. No, he was afraid of the sandstorm that was coming after them.
- Come, Ursla. - called his wolf the old orc. The wolf barked and runed after him.
He knew that the chance to find Proslav were minimal. Still, there was a chance to find a shelter for the sandstorm.
He found it just before the storm striked. Near the top of a hill, with sun crystal deposits on it, he found an old turtlehouse. It was made from nothing but Giant Turtle shell and some wood. The orc didn't have time to ask himself how the shell got here. He quickly opened the tent he was carrying with him, put all of his books there, and entered the turtlehouse with his dog.
The storm continued for 2 long days. The orc was afraid that his water will end. It didn't happened. However, he still needed to find a water spring.
He was lucky to find one, with a small Sand Elves outpost near it. The Sand Elves were one of the Greenskin orcs' best allies. They suffered alot together during the fire wars and the wars of the fallen humen. And survived. Just to suffer more.
Strangely, the outpost seemed abbadoned from far. However, when he drew near, he saw lights in the windows. "It's getting late" he thought.
Then he noticed the lack of sun crystals, with which the Yellow Mountais were overfilled. With no suncrystals the nights in those high-placed deserst were cold. Really cold.
So he was lucky to find water and lucky to find (again) shelter for the night. Later, after he met the outpost's captain and asked for a place to stay, the family which gave him a bed and a roof, served the dinner in the small dining room. The Sand Elves know when to talk and when no. They ate in silence. And while eating the wise old orc was thinking.
"Who am I?"
"What's my name, why can't I remember it?"
"Why I must find Proslav?"
"Why did I went on such a quest?"
The suncrystals always make you forget such simple things such your name, or even race. The orc later went to bed and felt asleep with the thought of the ancient, magnificent orc capital.
Will be continued.
