For reasons I cannot begin to understand my human sent me on board of an experimental gnomish submarine. Yep, you read correctly. One orc with an unknown number of gnomes in a submarine powered by some atomic device nobody really knows how to handle. (Well, certainly I don’t).
As it seems there’s already a certain number of problems, which makes me wonder why we left the harbour in the first place. But I was informed that gnomes know a lot more about technical tins of transport than orcs and for once I think I might agree. Also, I do not have a choice, do I?
The submarine itself is in no way suited for orcs, I’m far too tall as you can see. What’s also bothering me is the fact that these gnomes appear in bright uni-colors. Might be the result of an experiment having gone very wrong indeed.
Anyway, I’m to expect fires, leaks and failing systems, which would all sound rather lovely to me if we were not a million miles deep under water. Or something like that. Help is on the way, we have to keep the engines running and time is of the essence.
On the other hand I was informed that the one thing that keeps the gnomes really going is a respectable amount of Grog stored in the Captain’s cabin. I’ll need a lot more of that stuff than the tiny gnomes, so naturally that’s where I’m heading first.
Eight minutes later…
While I was still rejoycing over the bottles of Grog I had gathered, a hatch was blocked, several fires broke out, an accidental missile launch had been stopped (no idea who caused that trouble, really I don’t!) and water had flooded in. Good work, lads! Good work! You handle that shit, I have a drink.
After half an hour I feel the lovely buzz of the alcohol but not everyone is that relaxed. Greeny didn’t make it out of the room with the oxygen pumps. R.I.P., small one. The rest of us are all nicely inebriated, otherwise this whole business of keeping the sub running would be unbearable. And we got on fairly well, me scouting the sub for more supplies of Grog while the little ones did their best to keep us all alive.
And then this happened:
The kraken showed its ugly eye. We had about 15 minutes left until the assumed rescue team would arrive or else we all would go to hell, 10 minutes before the kraken would crush the submarine and merely a blink before another missile launched accidentally. That’s when I decided to piss off, actually. I had no intention whatsoever to kick the bucket with the rest of the lads. I had an aqualung and a diving gun (both of which I had considered to discard earlier but forgot about it due to my growing intoxication, hehe), so I felt prepared to face the kraken and abandon the sub altogether. Guess what happened next…
OMG, it is indeed a kraken!
And it appears to be much bigger than I had imagined. But my courage is not easily dampened, especially when I had copious quantities of good and proper Grog.
So, in the end I defeated the bloody octopus, ignored the submarine and headed for the beach. To have another drink, of course. and an octopus sandwich.
Problem is, the small ones made it home too. And now they’re looking for the traitor who abandoned them…
But that’s a whole other story for another time.
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