Interlude - Ork Times 5.

Summer. The Ork Range At The Frozen Bottom Of World.

Dargarven the undead scout watches as Onka Donka the ork shaman drags out from beneath the snow next to him, a half a carcass of a rather large seal.
And as the undead wardog Spear and Saralynn Van Der Linden watches on. The shaman of the wolf tribe of orks snaps his fingers, and a wicked looking curved knife instantly appears in that hand.
The spiritual guide of the wolf tribe, cuts off a chunk of frozen seal meat and blubber, sticks it his mouth, and starts chewing on it.
He washes it down with a drink from the barrel of molasses liquor he's opened.
The purple robe wearing ork, glances sideways at the small human child, bundled up in furs, sitting to his right.
Then he looks over at the undead wardog Spear, who has lifted her head up from her front paws as she watches Onka Donka.
The ork shaman cuts off another chunk of seal blubber and meat from the carcass, and tosses it over to Spear. Who eyes it for a moment, before she takes it her jaws and starts eating it.
Onka then cuts off a small piece of frozen blubber and meat, and hands it to the youngest of the Van Der Linden children.
Saralynn looks at it, then looks over at Spear who has wolfed down the chunk that the ork shaman tossed over to her.
The small girl, shrugs then starts chewing on the small piece she has. Well, she sucks on it more than anything, because it's so frozen.
Onka Donka grunts, then looks over at Dargarven the undead scout who is standing next to a corner of No Legs Munga's house, and nods at the seal carcass and grunts.
"Nah, that's fucken okay" says Dargarven the undead scout in perfect orkish, who then adds "You fucken keep that cunt seal".
"If you fucken say so cunt" says Onka Donka the ork shaman, who then barks in laughter when the undead scout takes off his full helm.
"Me fucken thought it was you cunt" says the extremely powerful ork spellcaster, who then adds "How you fucken been?" followed by "And how's that fucken cunt brother of yours?".
"Fucken good Onka" replies the undead scout, who along with his brother Arveem, would drink with the shaman, and No Legs Munga, and Dorc da Orc when all three of the orks were in the lands Farque over a decade ago.
Kreece Van Der Linden would sometimes join them, but the powerful mage wouldn't last long. As no way could he keep up with the orks and the two undead brothers.
Infact the three orks couldn't keep up with the brothers Dargarven and Arveem. Who have the advantage of being dead, well undead to be exact. Who can never get drunk, no matter how much they consume.
The trio from the wolf tribe of orks would often drink themselves into unconsciousness as they tried to go drink for drink with the two undead brothers.
Not even Onka, who is always in a perpetual state of inebriation, could keep up with the brothers Dargarven and Arveem.
The undead scout in the armies of Farque, who wears just a pair of leather armoured trousers, and sleeveless armoured vest, who has a sword strapped to his back, looks away to his right.
The ork shaman Onka Donka looks that way too, as does Saralynn Van Der Linden.
And the next moment, the other undead wardog, Hammer comes into view.
In his maw is the whale tail that a couple of the ork warriors were swinging up at the krean transporter, the Del Diablo.
The massive undead creature, who stands nearly seven foot tall at the shoulder, and weighs twice as much as the heaviest of orks.
Easily carries the twenty foot wide whale tail, that still has the fifty foot long, heavy steel link chain hooked into it.
Hammer dumps it on the ground, gets down as well, and starts chewing on it. After a moment his sister Spear gets up, and joins him, and starts gnawing on the whale tail too.
Onka Donka eyes the two undead wardogs, as that whale tail looks rather delicious to him. But he just grunts as he watches them.
For though he's totally insane, he knows and has always known, ever since he first encountered them.
That he should be cautious around the massive dogs that don't smell like any other living creature. Who smell cold, and even feel cold when you're next to them.
It's the same with Dargarven. And the other humans who smell cold, that he and Munga meet when they went north out of the southern polar region that year they met up again with their best friend Dorc da Orc.
Even Dorkindle, the bravest, and the stupidest ork that Onka has ever known. Warned both him and No Legs not to even touch the massive canines known as the Farque wardogs.
And to be careful around the cold humans, who Dorc referred to as the special soldiers in the armies of Farque.
Two ork warriors run around the corner, and stop when they see who and what's infront of the house and smithy of No Legs Munga.
"Er?" says one of the warriors as he and the other look at their whale tail that's being gnawed on by a pair of massive canines.
"That fucker no longer yours" says Onka Donka as he gestures at the whale tail that the two undead wardogs are chewing on.
The spiritual guide of the Wolf tribe of orks then tells the pair of warriors "You fucks better piss off, or them two big doggie cunts might start fucken chewing on you next".
The two warriors, who were backing up anyway, as one never knows what the unpredictable ork shaman might do.
Turn and run away when both Hammer and Spear, in unison. Stop gnawing on the whale tail, and look directly at the two warriors instead.
Onka Donka snorts, then chuckles as the two warriors flee.
While next to him, as she still tries to gnaw on the piece of seal blubber she has, Saralynn Van Der Linden softly laughs as she murmurs "Ha big doggie cunts".
The undead scout Dargarven looks sharply at the small girl as she sits there on the snow near the ork shaman.
She shouldn't of been able to understand Onka Donka, but she clearly did. Even though the ork shaman hasn't cast anything on her, so that she can understand the ork language.
The undead scout narrows his eyelids as he watches the youngest of Kreece and Sephiryn's children. Who isn't magical in anyway, and though human, is certainly the most enigmatic of the Van Der Linden children.
And that's saying something, considering the twins Mycrin and Layrah, who have remained back in The Citadel in the lands Farque, aren't even human.
Dargarven, slightly shakes his head then looks away from the youngest Van Der Linden child. Who starts chatting away again in the common language with Onka Donka the ork shaman.
The undead scout then looks at the smithy of No Legs Munga. As he does, Dargarven faintly smiles.
As it's the exact same smithy that was here in this village four and half centuries ago. When Dargarven first came here to the southern polar region of the world. When he was still alive.
Then he came here with the ork warleader at the time, Grond. As well as the ork weaponsmith Trung.
Both of whom, were members of the Wolf tribe, and who were in the armies of Farque.
Infact the warleader, the smartest ork than Dargarven has ever met, and probably the most intelligent ork in the history of his race. Was a member of the then lord Farque's personal council.
While Trung was the personal guard of the then battlelord Kaiuss Farque. The now current, and undead lord Farque.
The undead scout who has a sneaking suspicion that his old friend Trung was an ancestor of Dorc da Orc.
You can never be too sure, considering how indiscriminate orks are when it comes to mating.
But he's pretty certain Trung is an ancestor of the current ork warleader, Dorc da Orc.
As for the then warleader Grond, the most famous ork ever. So much so, than even orks four hundred and fifty years later know of him. Others might not, but a lot of orks still do.
Dargarven the undead scout is absolutely certain that he's an ancestor of Mungaril, or No Legs Munga as he's more commonly called.
They look a lot like one another. And No Legs, if he still had his legs. Would be an impressive specimen of the ork race. Being bigger than Dorc da Orc, who is still the largest current Wolf tribe ork.
Warleader Grond among other things, was the largest ork ever. Standing basically eight foot tall, and weighing close to eight hundred pounds. He was a giant amongst a race of giants.
And his descendant Mungaril, who if he still had his legs, would almost be as big. Even as he is, No Legs Munga is still a powerful ork, and with the exception of Dorkindle, is the strongest member of the Wolf tribe of orks.
As he faintly smiles, Dargarven glances back at Onka Donka, and wonders if the ork shaman is a descendant of warleader Grond's cousin, Bung. Who was also a shaman. Who in the undead scout's opinion was even more insane than Onka. He wouldn't be surprised if he is. Considering how inbred orks tend to be. It's one of the reason why they're all so mentally challenged. And that's putting it lightly, they're all fucking nuts in the opinion of Dargarven.
Who looks back at the well maintained, and quite frankly, beautifully constructed smithy.
As Yarren Van Der Linden makes his way outside.
The young mage sees his little sister chewing on something as she chats with the ork shaman Onka Donka.
And he goes to make his way over to them, as they sit infront of the blacksmith's rather rundown looking house.
He stops after taking just a few steps, and looks at the undead scout Dargarven, who asks him in elven "A lot of good weapons in there, i take it Yar?".
"There is" replies Yarren Van Der Linden who is often called Yar by those who know him well.
"Some of the best I've ever seen scout Dargarven" adds the boy mage, who speaks elven fluently and with very little in the way of an accent.
"Even better than the master weapons makers at home?" asks Dargarven who faintly smiles as he waits for a reply.
The son of the premier of the lands Farque as he stands there in his fur cloak, tries not to be embarrassed, as he knows the undead scout is referring to The weapons makers of the lands Farque, those who are undead. Who without doubt make the finest weapons in the Southlands, if not the world.
Knowing that he's been told to tell the truth, especially to one of the undead.
Yarren Van Der Linden says "Some are" he continues with "If not better, then just as good as the masters back home".
Dargarven nods, then says "No need to be embarrassed" he gestures at the smithy as he continues with "Some of his work is that good" he then silently adds, it's why I've come all the way down here.
Yarren Van Der Linden nods, then he continues on his way to see what his little sister is eating, and what's she chatting to the ork shaman about.
While Dargarven the undead scout heads into the well constructed smithy. And the two undead wardogs, Spear and Hammer. As they continue to gnaw on the whale tail. Keep an eye on the two Van Der Linden children and the ork shaman.
Stepping inside the smithy, Dargarven stops and looks around.
He has a quick look at Munga's tools and equipment, there's a low fire burning in the forge.
The undead scout who suspects that fire has been continuously burning for centuries.
Then looks to the other end of the smithy, where Kreece and Sephiryn Van Der Linden, and No Legs Munga, as well as Brang the matriarch turn to look at him.
"Ha!" says No Legs Munga the blacksmith with a grin upon his brutish looking face.
"It's you, ya fucken cunt" adds the weapons maker of the wolf tribe of orks, who scoots along on his low wheeled cart to where Dargarven is standing near the forge.
The two of them clasp right forearms and squeeze as is the traditional greeting, with Dargarven saying in perfect orkish "Hey Munga cunt".
"Hey Dar cunt" says Mungaril or No Legs Munga as he's more commonly known as.
At the other end of the smithy, Brang the matriarch of the Wolf tribe lifts an eye ridge in surprise.
As she sees the cold smelling human down at the other not just survive the forearm clasp from Munga. But actually make the blacksmith release the clasp first.
Considering No Legs is still the strongest member of the tribe. Well the strongest one still in the southern polar region of the world. That shouldn't happen, at all.
"We'll leave you two for a bit" says Kreece Van Der Linden the mage in the common language, who knows Dargarven wants to talk to No Legs Munga about something. It's the reason the undead scout decided to travel to the frozen bottom of the world this summer.
The seneschal of the lands Farque, along with his wife, the air/earth elemental head out the other end of the smithy.
Sephiryn the elemental looks back at Brang the matriarch and says to her "I should probably tell you about the first time i met Dorc".
Brang, who wasn't going to exit the smithy with the husband and wife. Quickly follows after them instead.
As Sephiryn Van Der Linden nee Vaitrelle tells the matriarch of the Wolf tribe of orks "It was in a forest, where i made him bleed, and run off and cry".
As a dumbfounded Brang listens on, hardly believing whats she's hearing. And as the mage Van Der Linden winces and mutters "Hell" as he sees his two children laughing to whatever outrageous story Onka Donka is telling them as they all chew on what looks like to be frozen pieces of seal.
Back inside the smithy of No Legs Munga, the ork blacksmith asks the undead scout "Why you fucken come down here for?".
Nodding to the weapons racks, Dargarven says to Mungaril "One of them" followed by "I'm looking for a new sword".
No Legs eyes the sword across Dargarven's back. A weapon he's seen before, and admired for it's pure simplicity, and the way it was made.
"Hmmmmm" says Munga, who continues with "Don't know if me got a fucken sword your size" followed by "Gots some daggers that might fucken do you for a sword".
The undead scout grins, then quietly chuckles before he says "Not for me, for my brother Arveem".
The ork blacksmith grunts as Arveem is by far the largest human he and Onka saw when they went north beyond the southern polar region.
Arveem who is even taller and larger than the one they call lord Farque.
For the older brother of Dargarven, is a heavy infantryman in the armies of Farque, who stands seven foot tall, and weighs well over three hundred pounds.
No Legs Munga turns around on his cart, and looks at his weapons racks. Then the ork blacksmith grins as he looks at the recently completed main battlesword he's yet to decide to give to anyone.
Now with Dargarven here, he knows who exactly to give it to, and who it belongs to.