A confused and Blank Faced Half Orc
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Orc Man walks in to town wearing a red rob bearing new scars and acid burns on his face from arrows, he stumbles past in clothing he normally would not be caught dead in, he walks in to the gatea few times before he realizes it's there. He sits down on the road and drops a sack next to him, a faint jingling can bea heard from with in as if some sort of chain, and a clank of a sword> Where is his usually large pack? Where is his usualy cheerful yet still dangerous exterior? THis Half-orc only seems a shadow of his former self, if even that. When a group of travellers walk past and open the gate Orc Man stands slowly, picks up his sack and walks through the gate, and makes his way directly to the Tradehall..where he bunkers down….he refuses al ladvances at conversation and sit silently in a corner uterly confused, and bewildered as to what happend to him, and paranoid, when the other masters try to talk to him he bats at them screaming at the top of his lungs.
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Dwin eyes Moe as he sees his pathetic hulk curled up in fetal position near the Forge.
I told ya not to play cards with them hins! Look how bad ya lost!
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Ragnar can be seen prodding Orc Man with the tip of his hammer while he lies curled up in the trade hall's corner
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OoC: Whoa, this server is becoming more like Call of Cthulhu by the day.
tries to evade the notice of the wrathful Dun'ge-n Mas,ters and Play-er As'sist cults as the last shreds of his personal sanity flitter away unnoticed with the dark thought of the impending return of their dread elder supreme, the High Creator and Destroyer, Mas'ume. All too soon the spawns of doom would surely destroy the last fuzzy vestiges of the bunny haven that is Narfell as the server is forcibly returned to the hands… of nobody. :crazy:
