Wonderful 8.

On Land...

As usual, Dorc da Orc wakes himself up with a snort. The large ork lifts his head up and grunts as he looks around. He finds that he's still beneath the tree and the shade that it provides, and that it's now late in the afternoon.
Dorkindle fell asleep in the late morning, only after he stuffed himself full of food, and pretty much drank the village dry.
The ork warleader yawns and rolls over, knocking over one of the empty barrels lying beside him. He smacks his lips as he rather enjoyed the tart tasting wine the villagers make. Along with the fermented ewe's milk alcohol they produce. He looks up at the hills behind the fishing village, where there's a few houses of those that live up there in their orchards and vineyards.
The large ork spots the herds of sheep up there grazing on the pale looking grass that seems to be predominant here in this part of the coast.
The ork weaponsmith rolls the other way, and finds a group of children in the shade alongside the nearest house watching him. He sits up, scowls at them, holds up both his hands like they're claws, and they're about to rake at something, and roars at the children.
The warleader of the ork race laughs as the children take off screaming "Fucken stupid humanlings" chuckles Dorc da Orc in the ork language who never gets tired of scaring children no matter what their race is.
"You awake sword lady?" quietly murmurs the large ork who assumes, wrongly of course, that the Sword of Power takes a nap when he does. The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts as lord Farque's sword doesn't answer him which is often the case. Which is perfectly fine to Dorkindle, who prefers she doesn't talk to him, as she swears at him more than just about anyone has ever heard before. And that's a lot, considering he's an ork, who as a race can't help but swear when they talk.
And she's got an extremely loud voice in his mind, certainly louder than any of the multitude of voices he usually has rattling around inside his head.
Dorc da Orc after seeing that all the small barrels, bottles, and the bladder like sacks he was drinking from earlier are all empty. Spots a few of villagers nearby who are watching him, he licks his lips as looks over at the bakers house, then grunts as realises that they'll be busy baking and cooking to make up for what the large ork ate in the morning.
So instead of going to get something to eat, he sits back against the trunk of the tree, briefly glares up at the sun in the late afternoon sky, though he must admit the heat here is dryer, and more manageable to him, compared to the humid tropical heat he had to endure as a prisoner out on the Great Western Ocean.
Sees one of the villagers he briefly talked to earlier in the morning, and waves to him, beckoning him over from where he's mending some fishing nets infront of his house, the ork warleader calls out to him in the common language, which he's relieved they speak here, wherever here is.
"You cunt, get the fuck over here!" is what Tanim the fisherman is sure the large green individual calls out, who they've found out is named Dorc, as he said it often enough when they were bringing food and drink to him earlier in the morning from Harmik the bakers house.
The fisherman leaves his porch, glancing at his neighbour Farnid as he does so, the old crab potter, nods to him, and comes along with him to where the stranger named Dorc is sitting beneath a nearby tree on the verge of where the grass meets the sand of the beach.
"Ah yes Dorc" says Tanim the fisherman who crouches down, a bit back from the large, green individual, due to the fact he stinks to high heaven. First of all the villagers thought the atrocious smell was coming from the carcass of the shark the stranger has with him, which does reek. But not as much as the big green creature who rowed into the bay this morning, who they've discovered smells the most disgusting smell you could imagine.
Tanim who thinks Dorc smells like damp, hot, animal manure, watches as he unfolds what looks like to be a map on the ground, then say "Where the fuck are we?".
From where they crouch, both villagers lean forward to look at the map, Tanim tries not to gag as a breeze coming in off the water, gives him a whiff of Dorc, which he was trying to avoid.
Old Farnid who is made of sterner stuff, grimaces in disgust as he smells the large, green individual, but he points towards the bottom of the map "There i think" says Farnid who continues with "Looks like the coast along here".
Tanim who can actually read, covers his nose as he pretends to scratch it, then he says "Yeah, that's our bay" as he points to the same spot the old crab potter has pointed out, he continues with "North of here is".
Tanim then goes on point out the location of the villages north along the coast, as well as the towns, and the city that's closest to them, which is still over a hundred miles north of the bay their village is in. A city that the carpenter Saldean is from, as well as Tanim's farher came from, where he was a soldier before taking up the life of a fisherman in the bay.
Dorkindle grunts as he listens to the villagers, then after they explain to him the villages, towns and the city north of here, he asks them "What's this fucken kingdom called?. The two villagers look at one another as if they've never heard that word before. They do the same when the ork warleader asks them if it's a principality or a city-state instead. For what they describe to him of this area along the coast, sounds like a city-state to him, well at least it does to his basics understanding of what nations are.
The weaponsmith from the wolf tribe of orks grunts then mutters "The fuck?" as the Sword of Power finally speaks to him again, and informs him that this part of the continent is called a region, and it's named Belinswae.
The large ork takes out another map he took from the captain's cabin on the cutter, and after unfolding it, then turning it the right way up, after he tried to read it upside down, he finds the region of Belinswae in more detailed form. Dorc then has a silent conversation with lord Farque's sword.
Both Tanim and Farnid glance at one another due to the fact the large, green creature is looking up to one side, and is moving his mouth but not talking, and his head is tilted to one side as if he's listening to something that only he can hear. Then he grunts, which he tends to do a lot, then he says in his deep, growling voice "Well fuck me, the new stuffs you fucken learn".
Dorc da Orc who plans to leave when it's night time as he sees on the more detailed map that there's a coastal road on the otherside of the hills that are behind the village, and the bay it's located in. Says to the two villagers "Dorc gonna need more fucken grub and booze from you cunts before me go".
Tanim and old Farnid nod in understanding, as they saw the copious amounts of food and drink the large green stranger consumed this morning. It's why the baker Harmik and his helpers including the goodwife Lisadíc have been baking and cooking all day. And why the villagers have sent up to the houses in the hills, where the orchards and vineyards are, for more alcohol to be sent down.
The warleader of the ork race grunts when the younger of the two humans crouching nearby tells him that food and drink are being prepared for him. Then he glares up at sun in the late afternoon sky above the ocean to the west of the village, and he loudly mutters "Fucken hot cunt".
Dorkindle then blinks in surprise when the older of the two villagers says "It's been a warm, clear summer that's for certain". "Dumb fucken cunt, it's winter" mutters the ork weaponsmith in the language of his race, which of course the two humans can never understand.
The large ork then blinks in surprise again when lord Farque's sword tells him that indeed it is summer, due to fact that he's now north of the equator, and that the seasons are oppositie to what they are in the Southlands.
"What a silly fucken thing to do" murmurs Dorkindle in the ork language, who then chuckles and adds in the language of his race "Krom must of been drunk out of his fucken mind when he made that shit happen".
Ryn the Sword of Power doesn't correct the ork warleader, she falls silent instead, and does what she mostly does, observe and watch things, both here where she is, as well as much further afar.
Dorc da Orc who is about to get up, and make his way down onto the beach where he intends to take a shit in plain view, and throw his faeces at the ocean he despises so much.
Pauses as he's about to stand up when the younger of the two villagers says to him "You're not the only stranger to pass through the village this week".
"Oh?" says the large ork who though is often forgetful and doesn't pay too much attention to what's happening around him, correctly guesses who came through the fishing village earlier in the week "Was it a fucken man in a black cloak with a hood?" asks Dorc da Orc who then adds "And a fucken bitch elf with blonde hair?".
Tanim and Farnid glance at one another in surprise, then the younger of the two villagers says "It was indeed" the big, green stranger grunts again, then asks him "Where those two fucken go?" both Tanim and old Farnid tell him where those two who popped up from no where earlier in the week, said where they were heading . . . . . .