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The Merchant of our Chilly Kings

Toyykooong · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
9 Chs

1

Birthed, created or spawned, legends abound on how orcs are 'made.' The truth is, on the world of Krog Pile, orcs are formed and grown within the leaves of a cabbage-like plant known as a baborc. Encased in a huge wooden tub is one particular crop of baborcs. Among that crop, your senses tingle with awareness.

Within the leafy embrace of a baborc, your slumber is about to end. The leaves slowly unfurl, revealing you to the world. Curiosity infects your essence as you open your eyes. Blurry patches of light and dark greet you. No longer a mere baborc but an infant orcling, the first act on your road of destiny is not to stumble on unsure feet but to gargle and dribble.

Your first memories are of motion. In your bundle of leafy swaddling, green silhouettes pick you up, along with the rest of the blooming baborc crop. You are carried to a rudimentary tent; the play-sty, where helpless baby orclings grow into children to properly take their place in the tribe. In the centre of the tribal ground, the play-sty is well protected against harm. Life is safe, death rarely visits. Your job is to get to know the world and grow yourself in skill and stature to be of use to the tribe. Or, just forget all that and scream, eat and poop.

Observing the comings and going of the tribe with naive ignorance, you should greet the world as you intend to live your life. By which method do you prefer to experiment with your surroundings?