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Gang Affiliations [Closed]

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In the far off village of Gonzu, a small group of bandits known only as The Clan had turned violent. Kidnapping several members of the Ni family. As wealthy as they were a call for adventurers was sent out at once. Their mission is to kill or capture those in The Clan’s hideout and bring their leader Crass to justice. The reward certainly wasn't worth the request: a fistful of gold coins, a night in the Ni home, and several meal tickets at the local tavern ”The Drunken Dwarf”, which consistently enough was the place which they’d meet.


(Enter Varbu)

Passing through the gates of Gonzu, Varbu was an odd sight. Amongst the humans, the green skin appeared to be a behemoth that towered over even the largest men and women of the village. At the sight of him mothers checked to make sure their children stood beside them. Others simply hid in their homes, and for just a minute as he entered, the town seemed to grow silent. All eyes were on the orc. Pulling out a crumpled piece of paper he made an anticlimactic entrance, looking over it carefully, trying to make out the words on it to confirm if he was in the right place.

Though semi-illiterate he still got the gist of the quest. Some humies needed wacking and he’d be one of the ones doing it. After about two minutes of staring blankly Varbu gave up on reading whatever else was written on the paper, crumpling it in one of his hands and casting it onto the ground before walking into the Drunken Dwarf. Normally a guard would say something about his littering. But, a small lad currently worked the day shift and didn’t wish to poke the bear.

This was probably for the best. Ever since his exile from the tribe he’d been forced to bottle up his aggression. Pink skins didn’t seem to take kindly the duels and petty fighting commonly found in orc culture. So this would be a good outlet for his aggression for at least a little while. Much to the dismay of whomever would find themselves at the end of his massive iron club of course.

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A voice rang out in the air.  Youthful and wild with the zest for life that refused to be tamed.  "I SMITE THEE FOR ALL YO WORTH!!"  

The boast hung in the air louder and longer than the crash in the house.   Cat, dog, chicken and all manner of living thing sought refuge from the smiting fury of Thod.  The young boy of the house banished furred friend and fiend alike.  Weilding a blade carved from a tree felled by his Pa. The decorative to was sturdy and hard and packed more than a small wallop on anything that didn't move quickly out of the way when Thod,  the War God came a Smiting.  

The animals of the house leaped out of the windows and up into the rafters for safety as woodened blades and elaborate curses stretched from the child's mouth.   "To the Bloody Blue Hells with ya!!!" 

There is a quiet in the forest near Gonzu, and it didn't stand a chance against the holy fury of Thod, the War God.  




A young boy leaves his home to play and discovers an adventure bigger than he thought possible.  

Sara, the mother of the energetic War God  hatched a plan.  "Thod.  Thod."  Even she had begun calling him by the name he gave himself.   "Go smite the baddies outside."  

"Don't stay inside!"  Sara said  Her voice filled with exasperation as she threw the front door wide.  Chickens burst forth from the windows and from the door frame as the hero of the day flew forward.  With a wooden sword in hand and a wood bowl for a helmet on his head.  Thod, the warrior shot forward to reclaim the yard.  "YEAAAGHHHGG!!!"  The child ran forward.  The War God threw his arms open wide and roared forward.  His voice was absence of base but filled with youthfulness.  His roar was loud and became a laugh as he raced out of the yard into the nearby wood.   

The mother smiled at her little heathen hero.  "Go Go!!  Conquer all!!"  Sara said in a quiet whisper.  Her sigh deep as she leaned against the wall and smiled.  

The young kid with a mop of hair waving beneath the helm raced over the roots of trees and small rock.  He leaped over shrub and short tree.  His bright eyes gazed forward as he yelled war commands forward to his troops.  "Come on Men!!  Follow me in to the WYLD!!"  Thod the war god ran forward into the nearby wood.  His wooded weapons held firm in his hand as he neared the wall of wood before him.   

"Don't go too far!"  Sara yelled after the War God.  

Run. Run Thod did.    His steps carried his far down the paths he knew along the way.  

Within moments, Thod, was in the deep, deep wood.  

Nothing was safe.   All was met with the might of his wooded blade.  None could stand before its might.  Neither rock, nor tree, nor anything that drew breath could withstand the power of his wooded blade that day.  The young lad smiled as he waved is weapon about with joy.  

From the shadows,  watchful gazes peered after the young  godling.  Hungry teeth gnashed together in delight.  


Unknowing, Thod slowed as curiosity lured the  him toward a nearby river.   Dressed in the leathers and furs of his homeland.  The young child was a spitting image of his father who was away at hunt.  Long blonde hair fell toward soon to be wide shoulders.  He looked through some of the verdant grasses growing on the side of the river and saw a man kneeling at the riverside.  His body tall and strong his frame wide and athletic even as he knelt down.  Straight hair, dark with a purple sheen fell down his back.   

The man stopped drinking the water just a moment before he turned toward the young man.  

Thod ducked down in the grasses.  For a long moment, Thod didn't move.  Did the stranger see him?  

Thod looked again through the grasses and saw the river side empty.   A sigh of relief came to the young child's lips.   A sudden sound behind  caught his attention.  

Sounds of sudden steps come behind .   Thod turns  to see three sets of teeth open toward him.  Dread Wolves.  The depth of their hunger caught Thod's attention.   Saliva fell from their mouth as the three wolves approached.   The young man back away from the creatures.  Each was nearly his size.  Their claws and fangs could easily pierce his skin and bone .   "B-b-beh--hold. I-I-I- am T-T-Thod."   The young boy attempted to say as his hands held his wooded weapon before him.   

Leaping over THod, as if a miracle from the very heavens. A purple horse  leaped between Thod and the wolves.  The horse was massive.  Its size was great.  It stood more than  three hands taller and wider than any horse that Thod had ever seen. His entire family could ride the mighty beast.  The hair on the horse came from the back of his head as a black and silvery mane of long hair.  Its tail was long and proud.   All about the creature said power. majesty.  

Thod watched as the horse raised its head.  Silvery a curved amost blade like horn rose from the head of the horse.  

The wolves growled at the intruder.  Their menacing jaws snapped at the unicorn as it stood its ground before the young boy.   

"A unicorn?"  Thod said in a hushed tone. 

Suddenly, sa flash of light ignited from the horn of the unicorn.  The forest went alight.   Thod cried out as his sight washed away.   then all was quiet.   

Thod awakened at home with a tale to tell.   



Later, in Gonzu, Sig entered the village.  He walked with travel bag and travelers clothing.  His eyes were energetic and he was a little hungry.  Saving a two legged children was not his forte, but it was three against one.  A soft smile came to his face as the once tool of destruction considered he used his gifts for a good cause.  He saw how the towns people were on alert and watched their movements.  

Mystical eyes watched the crowd as they eyed the towering Orc.  He watched their natures.  All two legs are equally handicapped, so why be interesting to each other.  He  thought to himself.  

Sig bent and picked up the paper and read the information.   His education with was enough to provide him with the common tongue of this region.  "A meal  is a meal."  With paper in hand.  He walked to the Drunken Dwarf to join in the quest.  Sig watched Orc and the other patrons as they moved out of his way.  

It was like moving behind a walking storm.  The beastly fellow put on quite a show.  Few even glanced at the stranger among them.  Several gave Sig glances of 'be careful' as he came into the establishment.  Sig eased along the perimeter of the Inn and watched for anyone over the quest.  



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Varbu took a seat at the bar, near crushing the stool under his weight. Pulling his kanabo from its resting position he set it down in an upright position that leaned against the bar. Floorboards shifted  and cracked under its weight, it had to be at be least a hundred pounds if not more.

The purple haired golden eyed creature that was Sig immediately caught his attention. “You here for quest?” He said with a tone that rumbled like lightning, his orcish accent thick in his speech. He may be dumb lad, but he had a pretty good sense of intuition. Isn’t that the common trope though? Two oddities amongst a group of what would be considered normal. Regardless, he noticed the looks of warning from the taverns other patrons and didn’t want Sig to be on the defensive. He certainly didn’t mean any harm. He looked far more scary than he actually was.

“Two of your strongest.” He spoke patting the seat next to him as two rather thick ales slid across the bar which he caught, froth sliding across the mugs. In all reality Varbu had no intention of paying, and the bartender had no intention of asking for him to pay. Though it was clear this was an attempt at comradely on the part of the orc. If he and Sig would be spending some quality time together they might as well get started somewhere.

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The mood in the tavern was watchful and careful.   

Eyes saw and didn't see.  Elbows and edged each other and nudges went to those that were unaware.   Witnin moments, all eyes were on the duo at the bar.  The two men stood out from other patrons afif they were rocks thrown among salt deposits.  Nervous, several of the warriors in attendace watched as the hulking form of Vandu was near.  Trembling fingers clung to nearby weapons hoilstered.  Their presence released sighs of relief from the population.  

Sig found himself pleased with a smile on his face as he looed to Vandu.  The Green gian was at ease with the unease of the others.  The Vhersi smiled and nodded his head as he sat next to the giant.  "Indeed  I am."  He waved the advertisement in the air.  "You didn't want any competition?"  A joking smile spread across  his face.

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”After quest, we compete. I don't want to be sloppy and get jumped by some wee gobbies.” Varbu’s tone was slightly muffled by the hefty portion of ale that filled his maw. He didn't have many table manners, food and drink were normally a brief affair, so limiting the speed of his consumption was a challenging affair, to say the least. ”Yous name?” he said swallowing hard, a lump visibly traveling down the thick-necked beast, proceeded by the wiping of foam from his mouth and tusks. He was attempting to make small talk, at least give him that.

Though Varbu thought it odd that some of the other warriors in the tavern seemed almost threatened by his brutish appearance. He didn't think he was acting all that threatening and in all reality, he was merely sitting at the bar having a drink. He truthfully didn't know what the pink skins thought they could really do if he were to cause a ruckus. Most human weapons could barely penetrate the leathery skin of an orc, let alone land a lethal blow. The only real human weapons that posed a threat were incredibly high-quality blades, arrows, and mauls when wielded by a veteran warrior. Occasionally though blades slipped into an orc's muscles, and we're shattered under their incredible strength sending deadly shrapnel into their user. Needless to say, they were tough bastards.

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Sig smiled as heard the Orc.  His gaze travelled over the the length of the bar as the Orc's presence .  He watched the bar keep at the far end of the counter clean his glasses with the towel.  There was a calm in the air.  A calm as if they were waiting for something.  Was everyone waiting.   The Orc's presence and his had disturbed the locals, but surely they had seen such exotic travelers before.  Sig quirked an eye around.  Maybe not.   He noticed the Orc warrior's demeanor.  The battle hardened warrior had a calm of a mountain about him.  Stoic and peaceful.  If unapproached nothing would occur.   The peace within the tavern would relax into trust in time.  Sig nodded his head as he heard the warrior beside him speak.  

"Jumped by Goblins?" Sig chuckled.  He imagined a horde of goblins seeking to attack the mountainous orc only to be toppled by his power.     "Your modesty is quite becoming.  You are a warrior and yet. .   .. . quite reasonable.  A blend of unique ingredients make up your nature. Sir."  "You are much more than you appear. "   Sig stated before taking a drink from his glass before him.  He took a deep sigh from his drink.  He found his words had dried his mouth.  Typical of him. He had once again talked his throat dry.  He drunk steadily of the drink.  

Large gulps banished the beverage down his throat.  "Ahhhhh." With a satisfying sigh he lifted his head back.  gazed at the rafter above them.  Hay hung from the ceiling as a type of of insulation.  "In polite society, my name is Sig."  His eyes glowed a moment.  "In places where politeness gives way to adventure, well, names may vary. "  He smiled.  as eyes closed and memories of battles came to mind.  The yells.  The screams.  The magics.  A shiver passed down Sig's spine as he sighed deeply.   "What's your name,  and thank you for the beverage."    

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”Ay, gobbies. I've seen em do it before. Gits a shaman amongst them and they thinks the world bows to them. Bastards like kobolds, love their gold they do.” He said, chuckling. What Varbu spoke of was definitely true, they had a habit of stealing from orc raiding caravans to steal the spoils of war. In fact the orcs had a name for it, Kalshin, or first fruits. It was more of an ironic statement than anything.

Listening to Sig, his words certainly hadn’t fallen upon deaf ears, and in a way greatly flattered Varbu. ”I supposes you don't make it as long as I have in dakka without some common sense about ye. I thank you for the words.” He had a reminiscent tone, himself also taking in the nostalgia of battle. The shouting, arrows flying through the air, the sound of cracking bones, and the taste of fresh blood upon his lips. Unlike Sig he held these events in a rather fond memory. A product of his environment one could say.

”Sig... The names Varbu.” he said, following in suit and proceeding to guzzle the rest of his drink, pouring it into the seemingly bottomless pit that was his stomach. ”Its no problem, a drink is good way to establish partnerships.” Over the several years of his exile he out of anyone knew that a tavern was a hell of a place to meet some folks. You got to see the faces every race had to offer, the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

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