Location: Oreon
HräshHläng walked the streets of the port city of Oreon. They had seen the port city from the waters of the West Echer Sea many times, but this was their first time inside its walls. The city had a noticeably different style to it than both Cormuk and Tayoun, both in the layout itself, and the construction of the buildings. This was a city built by natives of the orc's teeth, and so its architecture reflected the artistic styles of the orcs and native humans of the teeth, and the standard Athalish design that was so common across the continents was noticeably absent.
Most of the folk on the streets were humans, though HräshHläng saw the odd half-orc pass by. Most people didn't seem to take too much fright at their presence, which was one of the comforts HräshHläng enjoyed about the Orc's Teeth; the majority of folk, orcs and humans alike, were a bit more adjusted to the sight of monsters around them.
They made their way to a market, and Hräsh began to inquire about purchasing some meats, but the human at the booth didn't seem to understand what he was saying.
"Not everyone speaks Athalish, Ettin," said a voice behind him, in orcish, "especially not the older folk, except those who do alot of trading at the ports."
"Oedheg!" Hräsh said, turning and giving the appropriate orcish greeting. "I'm trying to buy some meat from this man."
The orc exchanged some hasty words which were incomprehensible to HrashHlang with the shopkeep and shortly procured a generous helping of smoked meat rations for the giant. "The name's Graeldagh" he began once they had departed the stall.
"I'm Hräsh" said Hräsh. "Hläng", his brother added.
"I know, your reputation precedes you" said Grael.
Hläng looked rather surprised. "You've heard of us? We've never even been in Oreon before."
"What have you heard of us?" Hräsh inquired.
"That you were a cornerstone in the left flank of Cormuk; we see many travelers from there recently," said Grael.
Hräsh nodded, though Hläng seemed to still be piecing together the metaphor. "It was quite a battle. Though, I lost a good friend there," Hräsh added.
"Oh?" replied the orc "this I did not hear of."
"Haudhlagh," Hräsh answered. "I would hope that his name would be heard as far as ours. During the battle he was taken away by the Ludimarites. He fought them just as bravely."
"I Hope very much that his name won't be remembered in infamy." replied the orc, his sense of celebrity around the giant clearly fueling a heightened sense of empathy.
"Remembered in infamy?" Hläng asked, confused.
The orc considered explaining his words but decided to change the subject, "What is it that brings you to Oreon?"
"We've been sent here." Hräsh answered.
"On a mission," Hläng added, "for the safety of the people of Oroen."
The orc's dark skin seemed to pale slightly, "Is there a threat to us here?"
Hräsh sensed Graeldagh's concern, "hopefully not. We plan to investigate."
"And if there is a danger, we'll take care of it," Hläng added.
"Tell me," Hräsh said, trying to move the conversation along, "what do you know of the history of this city?"
"Only what my father told me, of the orcish foundations in Beroroen and the difficult times that lead to the eventual rise of humans in these parts," Grael answered.
"I have heard of the legends of Beroroen too. What remains of the old city?" Hräsh asked. "Is Oroen built on the very site, or was it nearby?"
"Nearby to the Northeast" replied Grael gravely, "I've heard tell of monsters residing there for most of my life but recently strangers have come as well."
"Strangers?" Hläng asked, "what kind of strangers?"
"If I knew they would not be so strange, but from what I've heard they are like a whore with a knife," the orc answered, "alluring but dangerous, some return from them with their heart's desire, others don't return."
Hräsh and Hläng nod in unison, unsure as whether to dare ask any more.
"Have you lived here your whole life, Grael?" Hräsh inquired.
"For most of it," he answered, "I found some work as a mercenary some years ago but returned here when the fighting in the west had dried up."
"Where was this fighting?" Hläng asked.
"West of Stillwater in the plains of Dlaenth Drorn. Won me some honour, though I have long since wasted the gold." He pulls out a string with five of tanned ears beaded through it, mostly orcish with one large enough to be that of an ogre.
"Impressive. I've missed spending time amongst orcs. Could I buy you a drink?" Hräsh offered.
"Nay I should be on my way," the orc answered; "still much cargo to load."
Hläng looked rather dissapointed. "We'll look for you later. Where can we find you?"
"The docks mostly," Grael said, "and the hollow stone alehouse thereafter, I'd be honoured to drink with you then."
"As will we. Raelghógich grau!" Hräsh returned, adding the formal orcish farewell.
"Raelghógich grau as well!"
posted by HräshHläng and Tim
