3. Somali Ganista

Somali Ganista


  • Player name: Shilo Telva
    Character: Somali Ganista

    The smell of stagnant water and foul sweat filled the air. The cavern reeked of raw and cooked meats, rottting vegetables, and moldy bread. The dampness and cold did not bother the huge half-orc sleeping in the corner. Nor did the sounds of bellows and grunts, given off by the full orcs in the next chamber. This was all the home he had ever known, and he actually seemed to like it. Most of the time. Only when Momma was drunk and rutting with the males was his life truely miserable. Times like now. It was then that she showed her resentment for him, her mistake as she called him. It was then that she threatened to carve him up for stew. And he knew someday she would.

    Without warning he found himself being dragged sudenly from his bed on the floor. Thrown partway across the room by the powerful she-orc, he came to rest near the huge cauldron that Momma cooked the daily stew in. "I warned ye not te be sleepin in de caves when I has company!" she roars in orcish. The spittle flying from her mouth with everyword, she stood over him with a cleaver the size of a large axe in her hands.

    "Orgred saws ye, and says 'ows he is not layin wit a female as makes such an ugly cur lik you!" she is panting with the rage, her face nearly purple as she begins foaming at the mouth "Wells it be de last times Soma! Ye are de stew tenite!"

    With that she draws back her arm, the cleaver glittering in the dim firelight of the cave. Soma scrambles up, towering nearly seven feet. He holds his hannds out trying to reason somehow with the enraged orc. " Momma no! I be goin, ye not needin te cook me up!"

    But it was to late, she charged him with a scream of rage, swing wildly with the cleaver. And for the first time ever in his life Soma did not feel fear, he felt rage! A blinding fiery rage at this evil bitch who had tortured him his entire life. And as he blocked the incoming cleaver he lashed out with a fist the size of a ham! Smashing her in the face he felt her bones crush from the impact. His fist driving deep he shattered everybone driving the shards deep into her brain and killing her instantly. Panting heavily he looked down at the mangled wreckage of her face and chuckled quietly. "Ye not be cookin anyun else ever agin" reaching down for the cleaver, he suddenly got a sly gleam to his eyes. "Ye always said ye made de best stews" he grinned as he dragged her to the corner.

    Several hours later as the rest of the tribe started drifting in a nice warm stew was bubbling in the huge castiron cauldron. They each took a large trencher of the stew and settled in to eating, exclaiming over the great flavor and commenting on how this was the best stew ever. Somali slipped quietly from the cave, chortling quietly to himself and saying " I gess ye waz rights Momma, ye did makes de best stew,, de iz eatin yous up!" He scrambles off down the mountain and heads south.

    Several months later a worn and hungry huge halforc wanders into Norwick.

  • ICC

    Reviewed, XP Pending!!