Open Chronicles Back to Civilisation

A roleplay open for anyone to join

Bashuk

Member
Messages
4
Character Biography
Link

Bumper was mad at her. She could tell by the way his ears pointed backwards and she shook her head everytime Bashuk reached to touch her. For the most part, Bashuk ignored the stubborn horse and its mean temperament, but as the sun began to rise illuminating the top of Bald Mountain and the sprawling settlement of Bhathairk beneath it, Bumper took his annoyance to a whole new level and dug his heels into the ground.


Bashuk had only left him for two nights, he hadn’t been tethered or even tacked up, he was perfectly free to roam while she hunted. And when she’d filled the cart and whistled for him to return, she walked with him. Bashuk never rode the cart or Bumper. She’d pushed when rains had made the pathways thick with mud and always let him rest. She was convinced the horse had abandonment issues and she was absolutely not going to pander to them.


Shaking her head she threw the reins over his head and unhooked him from the cart with a grunt of effort, pushing it back so he didn’t have to move before pulling it along herself, leaving the stupid horse where he was. She got less than five hundred yards away when a snort reached her ears and Bumper came trotting alongside her.


Like hell was he going to pull the cart the rest of the way.


So that was how Bashuk returned to Bhathairk, under the dawn light, pulling a cart laden with deer, rabbit and boar…with her cart horse trotting far too happily alongside her.
 
Ahead of Bashuk was another cart. A stout merchant stood in the mud, hands on his hips, his portly belly accentuated by a crimson tight silk robe. He wore a large blue silk turban on his head and his beard was as black as the night. He was yelling at a gathering of Dwarves who were attempting to push a cart out of thick mud. The wheels were half-buried and refused to rotate, instead simply dragging along in the mud with each inch the company forced.

Eobe was with his kin in the mud, his wooden shield and warhammer tossed aside, his bucket helm clipped at his waist. Powerful hands pushed at the cart but it was futile. He shouted in his thick accent, "Mi'lord, tis naught budgin', ye' gon'ah 'ave tah ask dah Oruk-kin fer halp." It was only then that Eobe looked over his shoulder towards the merchant who had hired him, then past him, to see the approaching Orc.

It was tall, he mused. He had seen his fair share of snotlings, goblins and the larger hobgoblins, but never a full-blooded Orc. They resembled their shorter cousins to an extent but were hardly as meek in stature. Eobe wondered briefly if it wasn't goblins and hobgoblins raiding the Valley of Tholbor but rather these Orcs if Tholbor would even still exist on any maps. No, these people were powerful, even more so than the stout Dwarves.

"Aye!" Eobe called out, "Giv' us ah 'and?" he queried and waited, turned his back to the cart and pushed with his feet against the ground. The cart slowly budged but they weren't making good time. The master of the caravan needed to make a delivery and they were already a day behind thanks to bandits not two weeks pass. The merchant looked at the Orc then back to Eobe and quickly scolded the Dwarf for harassing the 'locals' as he called them.
 
  • Yay
Reactions: Bashuk
Sigfrith slowed as he marched along the road. Traffic had begun to slow from the deep mud that plagued the road. In some places, when he was not careful, it had sunk up to his calves. His cloak was not stained and caked in the mud. Ahead, he could hear shouts with the Dwarven accent concerning a stuck caravan. Ahead, he could make out an orc pulling a wagon while the horse walked alongside.

That brought a small smile to his grave face. Such was the way of beasts and why he himself did not travel with a horse. No, even his materials and supplies were acquired on the way. It was small magics by which he made his living as a traveler, but he had wealth enough for when wealth was scarce. Enough for a small hoard, stored safely in Elbion, awaiting the time when he would use it restore the honor of his clan.

But now was not the time. The stocky dwarf marched up to the stuck wagon and caravan, eyes surveying critically. It was a mess. Yet, he had a rune that could help.

"Would ye care for some assistance? A small fee, perhaps, but it will be worth more than pushing through the mud," his voice was a low rumble as he spoke. "It will take you clear across the pass with no further trouble."
 
  • Yay
Reactions: Bashuk

Bashuk scowled in annoyance at the clogged road ahead of her, carts were sticking everywhere. She clicked her tongue at Bumper and jerked her head in the direction of the road side. He trotted ahead, testing the ground snorting in disapproval. A whistle and he was back at her side. Something about the crowded road seemed to make him more agreeable and he let her rehitch the cart.


For the most part it would seem like she had ignored the dwarf that shouted for help, but she couldn’t shout back her confirmation. Once Bumper was hooked up again she wandered towards them, catching the offer made by another dwarf. She bared her teeth in anger a quick thump of her chest to indicate she would handle it. Only bad people tried to make money from those in need.


Bashuk circled the cart, inspecting it carefully. She tapped the lead dwarf on the shoulder, ignoring the merchant completely, pointed at the goods on the cart and then and the side of the road. They would need to lose some weight for her to shift it. As they did, she returned to her own cart pulling free two rolls of wood tied together like small ladders.


Laying each in front of the wheels to give them something to grip and spread their weight across. Only then did she look at the merchant, pointing him towards the cart. Every ounce of strength was needed. If he wanted his goods to reach the settlement, he’d have to get dirty.
 
Eobe was distracted and thrown off by the Dwarf he hadn't sighted along the path. He immediately broke away from the common tongue and spoke to his fellow Arrogoth in the tongue of their people. "Aah, good to see you kin," Eobe greeted, "The name is Eobe, Clan Tholbor from the Valley of Tholbor and Khazar." The Dwarf stood up from the cart he was trying to push and did a short bow. "But I can't offer you coin," then he hiked a thumb to the merchant, "And the greedy bastard won't be offering you any anytime soon."

The merchant bristled, angered that his caravan guards had stopped their pushing to stand around and watch Eobe and Sigfrith converse, even more angered that they had stopped speaking in the common tongue and could no longer understand the words they spoke. "What am I paying you for?" the merchant roared and Eobe waved it off. The Dwarf had dealt with the hot-tempered fool the entire trip and learnt to ignore him when he knew he could get away with it.

Then the Orc was upon them, circling the cart and surveying the predicament. Eobe smiled and nodded to Sigfrith then turned to watch the green-skin. He crossed his powerful arms across his chest and waited. When the Orc indicated for them to unload, Eobe butted in, "Nat 'appenin' ma'am. D'ose goods dun' belon' tah me and dah master won' appreciate 'nun if we get 'em dirty." The merchant went to speak up, agreeing but Eobe cut him off, "An' we dun' need naw human muscle tah help us, d'ere ah weak bunch o' babes."
 
Bashuk Eobe

Sigfrith gave a small smile and nod of his head in greeting at his fellow Arrogoth. "May stone be solid beneath your feet." He replied in a low voice, giving no indication of even trying for outsiders to understand their speech. "Sigfrith, of the Runecarver Clan, once from Buzragund, but now of Elbion."

He turned to watch the orc go about her work to prepare to move the cart and the irate merchant shouting at everyone. Tugging at his beard, Sigfrith finally turned to the merchant, reverting to common.

"While your tongue speaks ill of the stone of your birth, I am willing for the sake of my kinsmen, and a token of exchange, to inscribe a rune with which your cart shall never again become stuck in the mud."

He raised his hands to lower his hood and gazed at the merchant with solemn eyes. "But for your ill-temper, I would have writ one as a gift. But you dishonor yourself, my kindred, and your goods with such behavior. Such an affront may not be set aside for it taints the value of the bargain."