Ducking behind some bushes where she can have a moderation of decorum, she starts putting on all her layers again. Her cloak is a little wet, so she just slings it over her arm. Her violet hair just kind of sticks out everywhere in a wild fashion. She steps back out of the bushes, "Well...at least I'm clean now. Everything is alright, we can go back to camp now." She walks back to camp without saying much else.
Still confused on what the shouting was about and what it was he wasn't allowed to see if not her t!$+, Skaar simply shrugs and heads back to the camp for breakfast.
Nicatha follows back to camp and gives Skaar a significant look behind Rajni's back.
Sighing she does glance over at Nicatha with a look of relief and mouths the words, 'Thank You' once the Orc has headed back to his meal.
Returning to the camp, Skaar is quick to serve up helpings of pork and fire-roasted veggies before digging in himself.
"So how far are these mountains?" he asks between mouthfuls. "And are there any villages between there and here?"
She kind of glances towards where the mountain range is...."Well...pretty far I'd guess. Actual distance....not a clue. If you look you can see they are a ways off. Days, or perhaps a week or two. As far as villages go...I've not ventured to those particular mountains before, so I really couldn't tell you. I'm sorry...I wish I could tell you something more definite...but, I think the whole purpose of this "exercise", " She says as she rolls her eyes, "...is to put me in unfamiliar territory and see if I can still perform within expectations."
"Well we gotta start somewhere", the big Orc replies before breaking open a rib to suck out the marrow. "But keep feedin' us like this and we'll be fine", he adds with a laugh.
"I must confess that I've never hunted a dragon before. Do you have much experience in these matters? Some lure or trap?" the godwife queries gently.
Her patron sent her out here to die.
Sitting again next to Shamara she shrugs, "Well, sure. I started out with the hatchling's and very young ones. Usually nothing much older than that unless he sent me with a hunting party. This is different....and you don't need much to bait a dragon into a fight. Pretty much, just show up to their lair or nest, disturb them while they are sleeping, attack their young, you know....the usual way. Distance is preferable in a fight, but...if you can't do that, your best bet is to avoid it's mouth, claws, and tail, as much as possible."
As the party dines on their breakfast, the sounds of rustling bushes can be heard clearly.
Nicatha stands, putting Skaar between her and the noise.
Who be there?
"Jeg hører noe fremover," a low growling voice says.
"Jeg lukter kjøtt matlaging også," another low voice adds.
"I smell cooking meat too."
the first voice shouts.
The rustling gets louder and more frequent.
I be unfamiliar with that tongue.
Not at all minding the chance to be left along, Zia thought to herself on this matter. An exiled girl, a pair of strangers in some faraway place, and a dragon. This will make a great story indeed...
As the two went to investigate the scream, Zia gave the cat a smile. Now I'm rested you don't look so vicious. She tried to coax the feline into liking her a bit more.
Upon the others' return and seeing the whelp was okay, she didn't make to pry. She did add her two coppers to the dragon idea though. "From the stories I've heard, the larger ones are a proud breed; I bet you'd find it at the very top or the very heart of the mountain. Don't bother looking for a crevice on the outside."
Skaar eyes grow wide at the sound. The Orc tongue! He hadn't heard it often since leaving the army. Except with Corda...
Still, he knew what the tales said about his kind born in the wilds.
"Orcs", Skaar warns. "They heard us and smelled our food."
"Reisende som ikke liker å bli avbrutt. Vis dere. Sakte", he calls out to the rustling bushes.
Zia recognized the tongue, but she hoped Skaar's quick confrontation would lead to a peaceful resolution. She picked herself up and straightened her posture. Just like starting down some wild animals.
Skaar hears a laugh as ten orcs, their skin ranging from light grey to an ebon black, emerge from the woods. "Reisende som vandrer gjennom vårt territorium uten tillatelse."
The largest of them, his skin black like night accented with crimson tattoos and fierce red eyes, steps forward and looks directly at Skaar. "Hvem er du, fremmede? Hvorfor har du syndet på våre landområder?"
Skaar sizes up the small army that emerges from the bushes and his hand drifts to the mace at his hip. He matches the leader's fierce gaze while standing his ground and keeping the girls behind him.
"Jeg er Skaar og disse kvinnene er under min beskyttelse. Vi er ny i dette landet, og visste ikke hvis territorium dette er. Tilgi vår trespasse og vi vil være på vei."
"Should we be concerned, Skaar?" Nicatha asks calmly.
The leader appraises Skaar. "Vi bryr oss ikke om dine horer. Tilgivelse er opptjent i blodet. Hvis du så ønsker å beskytte dem og tjene vår tilgivelse, så vil vi kjempe. Ti av oss mot deg."
The orc lets out a grunt that sounds almost like a laugh.
"Just keep your distance for now", Skaar grunts in reply to Nicatha.
The big Orc answers the challenge with a hoarse laugh of his own.
"Alle ti? Er for redd for å kjempe meg alene? Kanskje du ikke er sterk nok til å lede disse mennene."
"Mitt land, mine regler. Hva vet du om styrken likevel? Du lukter sivilisasjon, myke og svake," the orc answers, his face tightening.
His rival's words stung but Skaar wouldn't let them keep him from what he had to do. He growls and takes a wide stance.
"Jeg skal la deg starte. Eller trenger du å riste av noen av deres svakhet første? Kanskje ha en massasje?" the leader asks, stretching his arms.
Skaar cracks his knuckles and stretches his neck. "Vi vil se hvor svak jeg ser etter at jeg har brutt deg!"
The big Orc shares a glance with Nicatha and a nod of confidence before leaning back for a bestial roar. The savage display makes the Orc's already brawny form swell with might and he charges his rival.
Slamming into his opponent with enough force to kill a human man, Skaar is quick to take him to the ground. He hits the earth with a crunch that warns of the pain that awaits anyone else that might cross him.
The orc grunts as Skaar slams into him and repeatedly punches at the greenskin's face as he bulks up a little.
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The other orcs look at Skaar with a bit of trepidation and hang back for a moment.
Skaar grunts in surprise and pain as he's liberally pounded by the tribal Orc's leader. His opponent was as strong as a bull, but Skaar had conquered bulls before...
Knowing he'd need all of his might to take down this opponent, Skaar taps into otherwise rarely used reserves of will to keep his strength at its peak.
Holding his opponent's arms and those dangerous fists at bay, Skaar tightens his grip and cinches in his signature bearhug.
The physical effort, however brief, makes the big Orc works up a manly sweat.
The orc manages to avoid being pinned and attempts to knee Skaar in the jaw, followed by a couple hammering blows that fail to connect.
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The orc resists being crushed and takes a step back.
Despite his hold being locked in, his opponent muscles free and snaps back his skull. Skaar growls low and taps into the mysterious power he unlocked back in Brassport.
The big Orc surges forward and grabs his opponent again, crushing him with deadly force.
The orc has the breath squeezed out of him, but reverses the hold on Skaar.
The rush of primal energy flowing through him is incredible, euphoric even. Skaar lets it embrace him, filling his muscles and focusing his instincts. With another bellowing roar, he further crushes his opponent.
The other orc avoids further damage and decides to use the rest of his strength to pummel Skaar with fist and knee.
The orcs that come to their leader's side seem to benefit from his rage, their eyes filled with anger and strength coursing through their muscles.
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Growling as the champion's followers come to his aid, Skaar maintains enough presence of mind to keep his opponent between himself and the small army of attackers bearing down on him. Surging with near-deific might again, he tries to finish off his opponent.