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#11 |
Spirit of Mist
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,355
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Grbbllx hauled himself back up to his foot when Môgul passed and spat the shipping peanuts from his mouth. Then he hopped over to the Orc he had dispatched and relieved the body of its knife and belt. He set to work immediately, fashioning himself a new wooden foot from one of the packing crates and strapped it on. Then he evaluated his situation.
He was a bit confused. He had completed successfully his first twelve step program as well as his courses on tapestry weaving, etiquette, history and music. Then he had gone to work as a dishwasher ("Nothing like good hard work to cleanse the soul") when his duties had been interrupted by a clerk who told him he was being released. The good news was that he had been set free in far less time than the millenium his instructors had told him to expect. The bad news was that, for some reason, he had been placed back into foul company. Could this be a test? More likely a clerical error. Bureacracy was bureacracy, even in the Halls of Mantoes. At any rate, his surroundings were not unfamiliar. He was used to such accomodations and company. He would put up with things until he had a chance to figure out where he was and where he should get himself to. A smallish Orc came up to him and cleared his throat. "Uh, Captain Grbbllx?" the Orc said. "I am Gronk, your new lieutenant. Môgul has assigned you to take command of the Third Shock Corps (Advertising and Combat Division) until matters are sorted out. Follow me." Grbbllx nodded and followed Gronk to his new billet. Typical accomodations; a rat infested cave with bedding made of leaves and twigs and one bathroom for 60 Orcs. Gronk brought him a new sword and a leather jerkin, then asked, "Can I get you anything else sir?" Grbbllx thought for a moment. "Yes, I'd like a croissant with butter and raspberry jam and a cappucino, please." Gronk's mouth dropped open and drool dripped from his fangs as he attempted to process this request. After a moment, he laughed nervously. "Oh, good joke sir! We, of course, have plenty of Orc draught and boiled mystery meat. I'll get you some!" Grbbllx sighed. It appeared that this place would be a bit of a trial for his newly acquired tastes and sensibilities. He wandered over to the bathroom and stood before a mirror, running his black claws through his blonde hair. He blinked his blue eyes, scratched his aquiline nose and ran his tongue over his yellow fangs. No floss. How would he continue his regime of hygiene in this pit?
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Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land. |
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