Wonderful 2.

North Of The Equator. The Great Western Ocean...

Dorc da Orc snorts and wakes himself up, he frowns and looks away to his left as he hears the high pitched squealing sounds that he's become accustomed to, the large ork grunts as he watches what's causing it.
"Hey little squeaky whales" says Dorc da Orc, who breathes in a lung full of warm air, which to him is almost as distasteful as the hot sun that's beating down upon his head "Come over here, me wants to fucken eats you" adds the ork warleader who knows that from their smell, that what he's watching, are definitely warm blooded like the whales he used to hunt in the southern polar ocean, but these are much smaller, and sleeker looking.
As he sits in his prison as it floats along in the wake of the twin masted sailing ship that it's connected to by a nearly hundred and fifty foot long, small link anchor chain. The large ork looks at some of his captors who are in the stern of the vessel, which is a cutter, not that Dorkindle knows that, as he only has a basic understanding of vessels, and doesn't particularly know the types of them.
There on the stern some of the ship's crew have the same idea as the ork weaponsmith, who snorts in derision then mutters "Dumb cunts not gonna get them little squeaky whales" as he knows that no one onboard, even those manning the fixed ballista on the stern, are capable or skilled enough to shoot the fast moving sea mammals.
The large ork listens carefully to those on the stern of the sailing ship towing his prison, and what they're saying "Poor puss?" mutters Dorc da Orc who then adds "What the fuck is a poor puss?" he looks away to his left again at the sleek, grey and almost silver coloured sea mammals, and he murmurs "You cunts poor puss?".
For an answer the ork warleader hears the sea mammals squeaking and clicking in their strange language that they use to communicate, Dorkindle grunts as one of them comes in close to the boat that's his prison, and skims across the small waves less than ten feet from him, before it dives just under the surface and veers quickly away.
The large ork who is starving, licks his lips and starts salivating as the sea mammals, the entire group of them, swim away at speed, while arrows and bolts shot by some of the crew on the stern of the cutter, fall well short of the departing sea mammals "Bye poor puss" murmurs Dorc da Orc who then adds "Ya cunts".
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts and is glad the crew onboard the ship infront of him didn't catch anything. It galls the ork warleader when he sees them catch fish and other sea creatures, as he knows that they just using what they've freshly caught, to supplement what they've already got onboard. Dorkindle's keen sense of smell, knows that they've got plenty of food onboard, more than enough for their journey, which seems to be taking a lifetime in the opinion of the warleader of the ork race.
The large ork sighs and watches his captors for a little while, until the hot sun, combined with the smell of the sea, forces him to lie back down in the bottom of the boat, and after a fairly short amount of time for him, fall into a doze, then eventually into sleep.
Dorkindle wakes again after midday, he glances up at the clear sky, with the ever present sun beaming down upon him, the sun which one day he hopes to destroy, and though he's not the best at guessing the passing of time, he figures it's around the middle of the afternoon.
The weaponsmith who to this day, is still the largest member of the wolf tribe of orks, has lost at least fifty or sixty pounds of weight since he's been held captive in his floating prison. The ork warleader who is starving, sits up in the small boat, leaning back against the stern as it's towed behind the twin masted cutter, which is still slowly heading north in the light winds that has been the norm throughout the journey.
Dorc da Orc sniffs, then looks away to his right, to starboard, and in the almost clear tropical waters they're in, the large ork spots something on the surface of the water, the ork weaponsmith sniffs again, then murmurs "Snake".
Dorkindle watches the banded sea snake for a while, and sees that it's basically parallel to the boat that's his prison, and it's heading in the same direction, north, as he and his captors are going, easily keeping pace as the twin masted sailing ship isn't going that particularly quickly, infact it's moving slowly.
The warleader of the ork race licks his lips, and before he starts salivating, he makes a decision. Plucking up an extreme amount of courage for one of his kind, it isn't exactly in short supply, as courage to an ork, is often just sheer stupidity in anyone else. He does what amounts to being one of the most disgusting things for an ork to do, he dips one of his large, skillet sized hands in the warm water that surrounds his floating prison.
The large ork hisses like an enraged cat as his right arm below the elbow gets wet as he starts paddling his prison to his right. Though only after he stops himself from tipping overboard and ending up in the water and going for an unexpected swim. Dorkindle like any other ork, would rather stab himself in the eye with a battleaxe than go for a swim, he hates the water that much.
With each paddling sweep of his right arm that sends his prison sideways, the ork warleader whose face has a deep scowl plastered across it, hisses in disgust, which is punctuated by him growling "Cunt" and every so often a "Fucking cunt".
Some of those in the stern of the cutter have noticed what he's doing, then one of the crew spots what's away to starboard of the small boat that's the large ork's prison. That crew member spreads the word, and others start to laugh as they watch him paddle his prison towards the nearby sea snake, some of them start making bets as they wonder if their prisoner is going to die fairly quickly or slowly, if he's lucky, or in their eyes, unlucky to catch the sea snake.
"Here snakey snakey, come here to your friend Dorc" mutters Dorkindle who then adds "Ya fucken cuntbag" which is followed by a growling "Cunt" as he dips his right arm into the water again, and paddles his prison further to one side.
The scowling ork warleader who hopes he doesn't have to reach out too far to catch the sea snake, as he doesn't fancy taking an unexpected dip which is more than likely to happen if he's to reach out too far to one side.
He has as a bit of luck, as the sea snake, being a little curious itself, swims closer to the small boat that's the prison of the warleader of the ork race. Who with a bit of timing, and luck so that he doesn't end up in the water, he grabs the sea snake and snatches it out of the warm waters of the Great Western Ocean just north of the equator.
Dorc da Orc being as ravenous as he is, stuffs the sea snake into his mouth, tail first, which the aquatic creature doesn't take to kindly to. The sea snake starts biting the large ork, repeatedly into his right hand and arm, injecting deadly venom into the ork weaponsmith's system, that would paralyze then kill anyone else in a short amount of time.
Not so Dorkindle, who like all of his kind, is immune to deadly toxins. Infact it's the sea snake that gets poisoned, it curls up and writhes about as it gets a taste of the vile, disgusting blood stream of the large ork, who is busy chomping away on the tail end of the eight foot long banded sea snake.
"Silly snakey" murmurs Dorc da Orc as he chews away on the now dead snake, savoring every bite as he finally satisfies his hunger, as he hasn't had anything to eat in the nearly two weeks since he's been taken prisoner, well apart from his own excrement.
With about a third of the dead sea snake sticking out of his mouth, the weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks looks ahead at the twin masted sailing ship that's towing his prison, and sees those in the stern of the cutter who have been watching him and laughing, have now fallen silent as they watch him.
Dorc da Orc sucks up the rest of the sea snake, and after a few satisfying chews, he swallows the last of his first decent meal in a while, the large ork grins at his captors who thought he was going to die if he caught the sea snake, the ork warleader then loudly roars at them, which echoes off the surrounding ocean.
Dorkindle sits back against the stern of the small boat, and in the first time since he's been taken captive and put in prison, he isn't that disgruntled with the situation he's in. Even with the hot sun beating down upon him, or the warm water that's all around him, they aren't as annoying as they usually are, for the simple fact he's had something to eat.
"Good fucken foods you was snakey" murmurs a satisfied Dorc da Orc, who as he watches the twin masted sailing ship infront of him that's towing his prison, imagines what he'll do to his captors once he finds away to escape from his prison. What he imagines doing isn't exactly nice, or healthy to those onboard the cutter who have taken him prisoner . . . . . .