Recent content by Lagakh

"Sorceress...or Enchantress." She stated firmly, seemingly unmoved by the implication of the Orcs statement. "Do you enjoy that axe of yours? Or how about that club?" Her attention shifted back to Laga. And then quickly back to the larger Orc. "Do you imagine that magic comes about whimsically...

She caught the Orcs bewildered expression and did her very best to not mirror it. Though the very thought of this tall and, admittedly, beautiful witch bedding down with that Dwarf sent her down a surprisingly deep rabbit hole of logistical questions. How, exactly, was Grandir impressive? How...

Laga wasn't sure who was less forthcoming: Hath or the Crone. Deciding that she didn't feel like arguing over the little things, she sat her bone club next to the door and leveled the Crone with a threatening gaze. The sort of gaze that spoke of harm and recklessness. The Crone responded with a...

Laga didn't have a particular preference in how this conversation was guided, so long as someone was having it. She interpreted a bit of irritation in the larger orc and felt the crone bristle in response. "Ah. And you expect that I will just go about helping you, freely? That I will provide...

The crone's arms unfolded from her chest and as she offered her hand, palm upwards, she snapped her fingers. A bit of dust and sparks sprouted from her enameled finger tips and the lightest breeze could be felt, cutting across the slanted roof of her hovel. "There..." The words escaped her full...

Laga followed in Charosh's wake, not concerned with who greeted the crone first. So long as the matter was sorted out, she had little opinion on the general route it took. This turn of events, with the corruption, had become decidedly even more complex than an already complicated route towards...

She didn't have the cognitive function to understand the term of 'us,' and how despite finding a guide for the trek, Charosh was still inclined to come with her. As he set her done, she was surprised by how surefooted she felt. The pain seemed to throb and slowly dissipate, as if distracted by...

She exhaled, sighing in relief. It wasn't that she was entirely bothered about hitting Charosh. In fact, she had sworn to do that and more when she awoke to find him not nearby. It was that had she hit him, which she had, it was entirely out of her control. Laga was tired but she felt the...

Despite herself and despite what one would have expected, knowing full well the prideful independence that Laga exuded, she didn't entirely mind being carried by the larger Orc. While her arm didn't hurt to the same degree as before, the exhaustion was nearly overwhelming. The ache spread...

She woke to a gait that wasn't her own. Without opening her eyes, she sighed heavily and felt the resounding ache from her arm. It wasn't fire, not as it had been before. Now, it stood more as a lingering burn that needed tender care and the lightest of touches. That wounded arm rested against...

The elf shook his head, sneering. "That is a foraging canal now. For beasts, animals, and commando parties. You might as well announce your presence to all of Fal'addas if you intend to take that route." "Mmm..." Grandir nodded. "It made one hell of a racket, that beast. Quierrel has the right...

"Can't rightly say, sir Orc..." Grandir muffled, scratching furiously at his long beard. After which, he proceeded to pick at the pieces of dirt and debris stuck beneath his fingernails. "She was a viper in all regards but appearance. Might be she is finished with us, might be she has just...

Perhaps sensing that the Orc was growing tired with the conversation, Grandir diverted his eyes and played it off. Staring long and hard into the fire, he finished off the remains of his bacon and proceeded to lick the grease from each of his dirty fingers. "Aye..." He finally nodded, still not...

It could have been Quierell to respond. He had the look of a man preparing for a riposte, mentally thumbing through the various faults and divots within the offered logic. It could have been Grandir because he had a bit of sagacity to his tone, a way with words that made senseless things make...

"We aren't blind, Orc." Quierell uttered in a whisper, hardly audible over the hum of the fire. Grandir looked up towards him with his beady black eyes, stroking his now grease coated beard. The silence indicated that the guide could go on. "The iron of my arrow sunk deep into that bears hide...