Busy dictator

In case you’re wondering what I’m doing right now (well, not exactly right now, as I am blogging this very moment), but by the time you’ll be reading this:
I am a dictator.
Yes, that does not come unexpected, does it. But the good news end here.
I am dictating. Words. To my human.
I know, I know.
Could anything be more pathetic?
I don’t think so.
So take my advice: If you ever consider becoming a dictator, do it the proper way, not the book-writing-way. As I have no other options at the moment, I just dream of better days.
The thing I dictate is a story of adventure, of treasures, a shrunken head, and of course my comrades are in it too. Oh, what fun we had.
Those were the days.
Now I am miserable.
Thanks.
😦

P.S. Ha! She-human feels compelled to console me a bit and offers to cook a nice meal. Always works with these compassionate humans. They’ll never learn. Good for me. Grinning from ear to ear now. Oh, must put miserable face back on. Hehe.

Sentimental Orc

She-human is reading a book about orcs in space. Looks fantastic, I’d like to do that myself. On the other hand, it probably means, I need to get inside more tin cans. Not a very pleasant thought.
Anyway, some of the pictures in the book show orcs in their battle outfit and it reminds so much of my fellow comrades that I’m getting really sentimental right now. The heads of his slain enemies that Slaag would wear on a pole over his own head as trophies, that’s a real looker. I miss him and his stubborn ignorance. I even miss my son in  law and his unpredictable usage of fireballs. Frankly, I would give a lot to be hit by one of them for once. I would cheerfully bear the noises Groisch makes when he jumps his wife. I would even go so far as to say I’d like to see and hear my family. Yes, I admit it. I miss the whole bunch. And now I will give in to that sentimental notion and have some drink. Copious quantities of alcohol are always an answer and solution to an orc’s sentiment. Cheers,

Re: the golden-poo-year

I thought you might want to hear how that incredibly exciting adventure began, when five dragons were threatening our world and yet the year was named after metallic excrements. One day I might tell you the whole tale but today only the beginning. If you are wondering who the guys are that are having this chat, go back to older posts and do some proper reading.

Slaag: “This is NOT a dragon!”
Me: “But it is.”
Groisch: “No way! It’s tiny. I feel betrayed.”
Vorn: “Now you know how your wife always feels.”
Noden: “And it IS a dragon.”
“A toddler – at most.”
“Then stay away from it. It just hatched. I don’t want it to follow us because it thinks you are its mom.”
“Baby dragons are harmless.”
“Then why are your pants on fire?”
“Hehe. Have you been talking to my wife?”
“Seriously. Your pants are burning.”
“I’m not wearing any pants – just a loin cloth.”
“Too much information !!!”

Winter isn’t coming

Winter in kraut-land is lame. Seriously, I don’t think it deserves the word winter at all. There might be other parts of this land where things are different, but right here in East-Westphalia it does nothing but rain. I went out into the woods to find some entertainment, maybe a monster to hunt, but there wasn’t any. Some rabbits, that’s it. Got wet and muddy feet and consequently into trouble when I came home.

How different things were back home. I remember that one time when me and my comrades went out into the wild to hunt a beast. It was deep and dark winter, in fact it was so cold that the snot dripping from our noses froze. We went up high into the mountains because we assumed to find one of those giant beasts we call ice dragon. I’m sure some mad scientist (aren’t they all?) or wizard calls them something posh like Glacialis Draconis. I might have overheard a conversation where this came up. I could not possibly know this all by myself. I’m an orc, for Gruumsh’s sake! On the other hand living with a human might improve my cognitive abilities. I have no idea what I am talking about right now. So maybe there’s some hope left for me to remain an orc through and through. I’m driveling.

So, ice dragons. Nasty buggers. They are slightly duller than your usual chromatic dragon but luckily very evil and never contemplate whether eating their prey makes sense. That way they’re more fun to hunt. Discussion is pointless and unwanted. I think that way both sides get a fair chance to win the game. Not that I could care at all about fairness. But in a battle of brawn vs. brain the odds are a bit unbalanced. Imagine an orc interbreeding with a dragon. Very pleasing thought, actually. Problem is, they’re hard to find if they take a slumber, what with being white as snow and all that. So instead, we stumbled upon an ice golem which was fun to destroy. It shattered prettily in thousands of icy shards. Not that I counted them, but Noden said so and I had no reason to doubt him. On the downside ice golems have the ability to shock-freeze their opponents which is a bit disconcerting. Especially when being attacked by said golem the next moment. But as always I could rely on my comrades to kick Frosty in the metaphorical nuts.

She-humans tells me there is a mythical creature called Yeti which might be fun to hunt. Perhaps I will take a little trip to wherever that creature lives.

In the Abyss part 1

Like I promised (or threatened), this is a short description of my comrades:

Noden the Sorcerer
He is tiny for an orc. But he is also my son-in-law, so you better not say anything about his height. By the way, the phrase “son-in-law” just proves that the human language is entirely inadequate to explain orc matters.
Noden is quite clever and has a slightly unhealthy (i.e. unorcish) sense of fashion. I mean, he wears a shiny golden belt, braids his hair and wears a tattoo of his wife’s name on his back (which is my daughter, just in case you forgot as I do occasionally).
He also has the unfortunate tendency to throw his fireballs towards his comrades, but that is a story for another day. And don’t, I mean DON’T assume “fireballs” is a euphemism. It isn’t. Like I said, he’s tiny.

Slaag the Warrior
He is exactly what an orc should be like: tall, broad and simple minded. Colateral damage is his middle name. (Now that I come to think of it, that might be said about Noden too)
He loves magic items and luckily can wear them all at once thanks to his strength and stupidity. Which makes him a great comrade in arms. Just hint at something to fight or loot and off he runs to be the first to get it. It needs the wisdom of my age to know that sometimes it is better to wait and see. You’ll get an example of that in one of my next posts, I promise.

Groisch
Also a warrior and my best friend. The stupidest of us all, and proudly so. His only wife, Gremmi, is far superiour to his cranial capacities (and to mine, btw). He has a huge ego, a huge weapon and a huge appetite when it comes to his wife. Sometimes I wished I had put up my tent further away from theirs…

Vorn
A dark elf with a strong streak of sadism. He has a lot of minions and a very impressive spiked armor. His minions call him Iggyboss, I do that myself sometimes, just so you know and won’t get confused.

Kiba
Another dark elf. This one loves drinking and has a great sense of humor. In the beginning he acted a sort of liaison officer between our small bunch and the troops of the dragon son but that is an epic story for later. (1)

The Brewer
Orc and drunkard. He was with us in our early days but lately has taken to drinking far too much. He is comatose most of the time because he drinks all the stuff he is brewing himself.

Roxas
A kobold and our reliable medipack. He is a very good healer and fits into a backpack. His patience and endurance are legend.

And just in case you wanted to know and because I am in a good mood, I tell you about my family:
I have four wives, amongst which is one human. And I think I probably have about ten kids. The eldest son, Zordac, is a good orc and about to get the chief’s daughter as a wife. But to be honest my pride and joy is Schonka. For years I believed Schonka to be a male orc, only recently I found out she is a female. She will make a great warrior and husband one day. Yes, you heard me right. She is not interested in male orcs whatsoever. Neither am I, so how could I possibly argue with that.

That’s it for now. Next time I’m gonna tell you about that one time when we (me and the bunch mentioned above, except the family) had been on a mission of life and death. We usually are, it only differs who’s dead in the end. So, there. See ya. Hehe.
(Still can’t get my head around that foonote thingy, though)

(1) footnote
Why the hell is this called a footnote? Humans and their ridiculous naming of things. I keep both of my feet firmly attached to my impressive body, just in case you were wondering. But my human said, this is called a footnote, so there you go:
The epic story of the dragon son. I was in it, so were my comrades. But as I mentioned before I have a bit of a problem with paying attention. So if you are interested in all the details you have to go elsewhere. In fact you have to go to the little blue bird of @MekareDaray and press her into TELLING THE BLOODY STORY at last. I might be inclined to tell you some of it though, as I remember it. Which might not be exactly how it actually happened.