A city of trade, populated by his very own kind, and so the orc named Lukrozub had set out from his own settlement, a village, there in the Spine, to find Bhathairk. He had gotten as far as half the distance when he decided to take a break in a village, whose name he had already forgotten, for it was not important.
He remembered the village that was his home, however: Ortabur. A minor settlement, unknown to most folk including other orcs, even dwarves, it kept its distance. Nestled upon mountainous steppe, established and governed by Clan Cromnag, it bred warriors, fostered hunters, influenced musicians, and existed in a sense of bliss—if with sentiments of conquest over prey and predator, and other.
Where that thirst would take any Ortaburan was for the person to decide. Nineteen years old, Lukrozub, or Luke as his kinsmen called him, would come to his own decision, make his own conclusion, and maybe the orcish stronghold of Bhathairk would help him.
For now, under the morning sun, he stood on a small hill in the middle of this village otherwise unremarkable; a halfway mark on his march westward bound. On the hill’s crown, surrounded by buildings—houses, blacksmith, tavern, market—Luke took up his instrument.
His morin khuur, a violin in comparison, but much different. He stood, proud if not loud, his skull mask lowered beneath his chin. Shirtless, the scars on his torso bared, as much as the tribal necklace from collarbone to chest. Yet he had pants and boots to boot.
Stringing, singing—throat-singing, specifically—humming a fundamental pitch and simultaneously manipulating the overtone, fluctuating in melody. Guttural, but structural. He stroked the bow of his instrument, a sword and an axe on either hip, and they too were his instruments.
“Fuck off, you piss-shit orc!” Demanded one member of a small audience.
“Yeah! Get out of our village! ‘Fore I gut out yer innards!”
Apparently some of the villagers weren’t so friendly. Others kept silent. A smaller number even clapped. It didn’t matter to Luke. Today, he sang and played loud and proud, come what may.
