Et møte I det Orken hjemlandet pt 2.
It had been a busy day for Throk. Since setting foot in Orkutsk, he had been watched by the humans. Many recognized his name from various newsprints once he mentioned it, but few knew his face among those in the tavern. One older man approached him as he was enjoying a drink with Zarguth. He asked if he fought in the Argonia conflict. When Throk said he didn't because his father had sent him to the Baccarat orcs two years before that, he seemed confused. Zarguth was about to intervene when three young orcs entered the tavern. The group immediately noticed and approached the duo. One immediately began staring daggers at Throk. A growl emerged from Throk's throat.
"Ulgan, jeg visste at du ville dukke opp." The orc pulled up a stool, sitting on the other side of Throk's table. The other two looked at their companion.
"Han er halvbroren min, la meg snakke med ham," Ulgan said. His cohorts rolled their eyes and walked to the bar. They placed a bag of root vegetables and dried fish on the counter, which the tender happily took before giving the duo two large mugs of a frothy drink and large hunks of cheese.
Ulgan looked back to his tablemates. "Imagine my surprise when I received a message from our dear friend Vali that spydbulk had returned. I thought the man was playing a prank on us, but here you are. It's wonderful to see you again kampmester Zarguth. Vi savnet deg inderlig." Throk snarled at the orc across from him.
"I see you finally learned common. Now you can waste even more people's time with your pointless babble. If you wanted to fight me, just say so now. I suspect you're part of the people who want my head because of what I'm doing?" Ulgan glared at Throk for several seconds before waving his hand. A his eyes flashed briefly.
"You definitely aren't under magical compulsion. So are you being blackmailed? I never thought one of our own would eat with an Argonian official, especially one as pugnacious as you." He looks around the tavern before leaning in closer. "This place is protected from scrying and there are no foreigners here. You can tell me if this Erig b*****d has got something on you. We can make a plan to capture him," He whispers.
Throk sighs and leans forward onto the table. "Hva slags idiot do you take me for? They didn't know I existed until I won that contest. Erig was barely a toddler during the conflict and I was working with pirates at the time. Dette skipet er langt ødelagt. He has nothing on me. I'm doing this for our people. We can't just stew in animosity here forever. Charmles is dead and the current king is going to give a spoken and written apology at the opening of the display. We get along with the Orkutskans, Ørkensøskene våre arbeidere med Baccarati, why should we waste our energy..."
"So a few foreign humans are nice to you because your famous and you suddenly think we should bow to all of them?" One of Ulgan's cohorts swung a fist at Throk. It was easily caught by him. A hush fell over the tavern.
"Sloppy. Stick with your magic chants tannløs." He tossed the orc to the ground. "You want to fight? I'll fight all of you whelps at once outside on one condition. When I win, you will get me a meeting with the elders." Uglan sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I have no desire to fight you, my anger is all toward Erig. I had originally come to tell you some of the elders wanted to meet with you, but then the young and angry decided to follow me here." He points to the two orcs he came in with. "At least one of the elders wanted to put you in a krigrettssak, men jeg sa jeg kunne få mer informasjon til dem. I kind of expected a fight would break out regardless." He rises from his seat. "No fighting the inevitable I guess. Knock these jordspisere out if you want. I'm telling the elders you aren't being enchanted. You can explain the rest there."
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After several tense conversations, and multiple fights, Throk is finally allowed to meet with some orc elders about his project. They meet at night around a bonfire after cooking a large meal. A younger orc offered Throk a large wooden mug. He took it before raising it to the elders.
"Tusen hjertelig takk for gjestfriheten. There's so much I didn't realize I missed about this place. Now let's lower our spears and talk." He took a swig of the liquid in the mug. "Hmm, smaker som bananer og einebær. Litt rare, men jeg liker det." One of the elder orcs, a woman with large tusks and stiff blue hair, smiled.
"Sløv som alltid. Du er Gurajeks barn. We call it Sahti. We started making it around the time you were born, but we mostly kept it for when the yaks weren't producing as much milk." She looks to Zarguth, who was devouring a roasted goat leg. "Som eldeste av alle her, vil du starte diskusjonen krigsøster?" Zarguth finished her meat and looked to the crowd.
"Thanks for putting me on the spot Dulug. I suppose I have to for tradition's sake." She sits herself next to Throk. "With some help from his human friends, little Throkky has been given the opportunity to run an orcish cooking and culture demonstration at the annual bazaar in Argonia. He's been gone so long that he thinks he can't cook anything authentic. Jeg er i samme situasjonen, så jeg kan ikke hjelpe ham. For this reason, as well as the amount of food needed to serve the visitors, he wishes to recruit a team here. If that is deemed impossible, he would at least like to learn some recipes." Dulug looked to the other elders.
"Hva vet alle om det?"
There was murmuring among the crowd. Of the eight other elders, five said they were willing to hear Throk out, two wanted him to go through a combat trial, and the last one was adamant that no orc should ever associate with the Argonians. Zarguth stood up and grabbed him by the collar.
"Kjøtthod! You didn't even fight in the battle. You stayed back with the firewood despite my orders. Blind as a bat and a head like a cave! How did you ever become leader of anything when you can't see the change in front of you? You just want to gain the glory you think you're owed to make up for your cowardice!" Her tusks were almost touching his face as she screamed at him. Dulug placed her spear on Zarguth's forearms.
"Slapp av Zarguth. Yatur er harmløs, bare høyt." Zarguth released the orc as Dulug toook her spear back. "It seems most of us want to hear his ideas." She turns to Throk. "As you have already fought through a large group of those allied with our more combative elders, I would say that suffices for the combat trial. We don't need any more of our people unconscious tonight." A visibly tired Ulgan emerged from the nearby forest and trudged toward the fire before using healing magic on Throk.
"De sinte har roet seg. De skal ikke plage oss mer." Dulug nodded and took a large drink.
"Tusen takk Ulgan. Du kan dra nå, unless you wish to stay and hear what Throk has to say." Ulgan sat on the ground near the fire.
"I'd like to know where the hell these two have been the last 30 years. Gurajek only wanted him in the desert for two years so he'd simmer down. I have no idea why Zarguth left us either."
Throk looked to Zarguth. "Did you talk to..." he whispered. Zarguth shook her head. "They told me not to if I could avoid it, but said if it would hinder this the kinder elders can know as a last resort." She whispered back. Throk stood up and finished the drink in his mug.
"I will give the quick version so that we may discuss the matter at hand. After spending a year with our brothers and sisters in the desert, I got wrapped up in piracy. I was fed honeyed words of strangling Argonian trade in exchange for being treated like s**t on a wooden barge. A year or so of that later, Vali's son arrives on our boat. We work together for about six months, then we catch the captain having us smuggle rockbomb shards to bandit groups near Farebury. I break the captain in half over the wheel, then monsters attack and the cargo detonates. I wake up on some shore near Farebury with Alvar, one of our desert orc brothers. We kill the bandit group our captain was supposed to meet, then some nice people take us to a place where orcs, elves, dwarves, humans, all sorts live together." Zarguth catches a spear that was thrown at Throk's face. Yatur was immediately restrained and dragged off. Throk continued as if nothing happened.
"That's where I've been the last 25 years. When I arrived, Zarguth was already there. I currently run the tavern there, with Alvar as the regular entertainment. This is also where Vali's grandson comes in, alle kjenner Kefka ja? Høy, bruker briller, lite blå ting med ham?" The crowd nods and murmurs happily. "He comes in a few years after I take over the tavern. I didn't know he was related to Vali and Normund until a couple years ago. Anyway, he has a sorcerer friend that lived with him at the time. The sorcerer leaves eventually, but Kefka and I become good friends. He eventually becomes the head of the potion shop in town, then the sorcerer got him selling his goods at the Argonian bazaar. During the bazaar three years ago, a man starts advertising an international cooking contest he's organizing and recruiting contestants for. Kefka somehow convinces me to enter, I win, it gets published in worldwide papers, alle det andre. One of these papers gets in the hands of the man in charge of food at the bazaar, Erig. He spends the better part of a year trying to find me, including sending those guys who questioned a few of us in the forests outside Arcadia. Kefka meets with him, starts shifting him from 'get Throk here because he's famous' to 'get Throk here as a first step to repair relations between orcs and Argonia.' Now I've met with him in person and he seems genuinely interested in this. The bazaar was intended to have the various cultures of the world come together and trade. We established a plan on how to run this in a way that we orcs would want it. We aren't serving the nobles, we're making our food our way. Any money we make we get to keep, or donate as the case may be, tax free for the first year and people from around the world get to learn about us."
Throk pulls a piece of paper from his pocket. It was the outline for the display he hashed out with Erig. "You're free to offer suggestions for improvements. If we can make life easier for søskenbarna våre som bor uten Orkutsk gjennom cultural understanding, I think we should. At least for one year. If it fails, Argonia looks bad and we go back to our normal lives here." Dulug and the other elders examine the paper.
"We will need some time to discuss this. It is late though. We can discuss this further in the morning. Now, bringe multebærene" She gives everyone present a small, golden fruit that resembles a raspberry. "Til våre søskenbarna som kom tilbake. Skol, Throk, Zarguth." Everyone raised their hands before eating their berry. It tasted like honey and nostalgia.
kefkadragon Community Member 
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