Sitting on our arses will get us nowhere.

For In Character events within Noore I'Meles, the homeland of the Orcs, Goblins and Rodera

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Peter Levy
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Sitting on our arses will get us nowhere.

Postby Peter Levy » Fri Dec 02, 2011 1:23 pm

**The orcs had been working tirelessly digging down, deeper and deeper. Expanding their new tunnels to house their people. Away from the horrors above. Away from the memories of war. Away from their now far-too-close neighbours. Endless, dark, hot, backbreaking work.**

**A Rodera was stood by an entrance to a tunnel, a small wooden baton held loosely in his left paw. He stared into the opening, puzzled by the efforts. Behind him, he heard the thud of a great shield hitting the floor. An orc,in his armour almost as broad as he was high, stood scowling at this rat. The orc slowly lifted off his bright, pointed helm, and took a step toward the rodera.**

Remind you of anything? Remind you of the war? Remind you of the 'refugees'?

**Before letting the startled young rodera open his mouth in reply, the orc steps up to him, and drives a gauntleted finger into roderan sternum**

For our own safety, you told us. You rat bastards! You made us dig the fucking pits then left us to die!

**The rodera, waved his baton as he backed away from this furious orc.**

A pit, not fifty yards wide, for eighty of my brothers. You treat us as though our blood is worthless. No fucking respect, no fucking honour, no fucking dignity.

**A creature, formed from pieces of dead flesh, drops its plough, and lumbers towards the pair. Seeing it from the corner of his eye, the orc swings around, raising his mace up to it.**

And then... Then... You grotesque evil rat BASTARDS, went further. These things. These, sculpted in ORC FLESH. Built on ORC BLOOD. FUCK!

**He pauses. There is a moment of silence. Tension. The eyes of numerous people are upon them.**

Give them to us. Give us this mercy. You said the pits were merciful. You said the abduction was kindness. Now, for once, be kind. Be merciful. Give these things to us... Please.

**The rodera, shaking, sees the tears well in this young orc's eyes. He drops his baton, and flees.**

**The orc takes a deep breath. He picks up the wooden rod. He picks up his shield and helmet. He slowly walks into the tunnel. As he disappears, the construct follows. His voice can be heard calling out into the darkness**

RIGHT BOYS, LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THE RATS VALUES THE GIFT HE WAS GIVEN. WE'VE GOT OURSELVES A HELPER. NOW, NORTH, TO GUTLAR!
Señor Ref

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