Orc Camp
@ERode
Given that the Harpy and Tatzelwurm were both carnivorous creatures, their intestines were somewhere between four and eight times the length of their bodies once unfurled. They were small, granted, only about as big around as one of Esfir's fingers or perhaps the thumb at best--but given the viscera of both creatures she had left over, along with what remained of the Tatzelwurm's meat that she couldn't eat in a single sitting, the old-at-heart orcling found enough material to make an unexpectedly large number of sausages in the natural casings. Working with a different pair of hands that weren't quite as skilled and weathered as before, there were a few mishaps here and there...but the few lengths of intestine that got shredded could just as easily be stuffed in with the rest of the fillings.
Once she had twisted them into links of about six inches per sausage, or close enough to a hand's length, they started to look like actual processed meat instead of strips of raw game and bloodied organs.
By the time she slung the long meat-chains over her shoulders and headed for the fires, she had roughly
60 Very Thin Sausages--half of them made with Tatzelwurm, and the other half with Harpy. They were roughly the size of round beef jerky sticks. When cooked, they shrank down a bit as the outer casing darkened. Sizzling, fatty grease sometimes dribbled from their ends, along with hissing steam as the ground up innards congealed and browned...
By the time Esfir finished cooking her test batch and looked up, it seemed like several other Orcs--both Adults and the younger Grunts--had gathered around the particular fire pit she'd been using.
"Oi, Runt, where'd ya get dem sassy-gees?!" said one with a warrior's build, as he wiped drool from the corner of his mouth. "I ain't had none since wot we last raided dem pinkies on da udda side of da forest!"
"Wot dey got in 'em?" asked another as he sniffed the smoke coming from the fire--almost getting close enough to singe his own nosehairs. "Dey don't smell like pigs or cows like the ones humans make..."
"Ey, Runt, ova'ere!" Another jumped up and down to be visible above the others' heads. "
I'll trade ya dis noice stick I found for a handful of 'em! I was gonna make an axe out of it--it's real solid-like!"
"Don't gibs dat mukh nuttin!" shouted another who pushed the first. "
Gimme 'alf ov'em, an' I'll gibs ya a real knoife! Made o' metal an everyting!"
"Oi, who said yer could push me, ya muddafuggin--" A meaty smack followed by a grunt echoed, but it wasn't certain among the throng who had hit who first. But other offers were thrown Esfir's way--
and a few of the bigger, nastier looking adults stepped closer surreptitiously...
@King Cosmos
"Yep!" Shamar puffed out her chest with a grin as Akeno inquired about her kills. "I gots a couple traplines out ta the lake, and I goes huntin' afore sunrise and after sunset both!" Then she snorted, and spat over her shoulder onto the ground. "Course, summa dese gits trades me to do it for 'em, but too many of 'em tinks all I want is what's between their fat legs!" She chuckled darkly. "I
did cut one off, mindja, but I didn't keep it." Then a louder laugh. "Worked better fer catchin' fish than any worm!"
When Akeno next asked about shelter, Shamar shrugged and popped her neck to one side.
"Ya gotta find it or build it, don'tcha? If'n ya don't, den I reckon ya sleep cold. Oh, and ya ain't got nowhere to store ya stuff." A thought seemed to occur to the head hunter at that moment, however, and she looked at Akeno more seriously.
"Lookie 'ere, Runt. We's all Orcs 'ere, right? It's us against da whole damn world! So, makes sense dat we ain't allowed to kill each other, right?" She gestured towards the rest of the camp around them, and the raucous behavior of their tribemates. "Anudda tribe, dat's one ting. Defendin' yaself, dat's anudda ting. And even fightin' and wrasslin, dat's just natural, yeah?" She wagged her finger like a children's teacher--which, technically, she was at this point. "But, if you ain't got nowhere to keep ya stuff--you leave summin' on da ground, anywhere inside da camp--then dere ain't no way to keep it. The
only time you gets ta kill anudda orc..." Shamar's fingers idly readjusted themselves on her knife.
"...
is if he crosses yer territory, and lays hands on yer stuff, wivvout yer say-so. Cause we all needs our tools, our weapons, our food, and so's on, to survive out here. If you've tried to protect it as best ya can, an' they violet...violent...voliates dat--" She spat again and ignored her verbal slip, "Den it's yer call what to do with 'em."
Again, she shrugged.
"Course, if'n ya can get in and out of someorc's tent wivvout bein' seen, can't nobody stop ya from takin' whatever ya want. An' if someone invites ya in, and den ya swipe summin, then they only gots themselves ta blame unless they finds out quick enuff." She shook her head, then turned back towards her work. "Even if someone's outta the camp, most orcs will respect a shelter. And some orcs are awful quick to call anudda one out if dey see 'em bein' a sneakthief."
Before she disappeared around the other side of the yurt, however, she threw Akeno a knowing wink.
"But sometimes, bein' a sneakthief is downright useful, yeah?"
And then the orcling, wearing her fresh vest, was left to her own devices.
South Caves
@Kazemitsu
The impact of Grunthor's spinning club hitting the web caused it to wrap itself much like a self-closing net. Luckily, the only thing it had captured was the weapon and a few rocks on the ground--
however, while the club was coated in the sticky substance, Grunthor wouldn't be able to grab it without trapping himself as well!"My MP's dry!" shouted the unnamed Runt as both of them closed in on their wounded opponent. Using the antler-bone hilted knife he'd taken from the camp, the greasy haired orc took a running start and leaped at the spider's back! The creature hissed and began kicking its remaining rear legs, but as the runt sank his blade into it and pulled, he was able to climb out of their limited range of motion.
Grunthor, having made it to a standing position once more, used his Sharpened Wooden Stick in conjunction with his original Skill! The three swift blows managed to land on one leg in two different places--at the very least, his aim was good enough to catch it in motion! However, the force of hitting the spider's hard exoskeleton multiple times was enough to
crack his stick--It likely wouldn't last past another hit!
Despite this, however, he'd put a crack in this leg too below its last joint, and the spider couldn't put weight on it as it tried to scuttle along the wall!
Then its butt let out a gross squelch again, and
Grunthor was knocked backwards by a gooey wad that was more liquid than thread. As it covered his chest he slammed into the ground--but he'd need to get up carefully!
Any wayward move might allow the substance to stick him in place...Nonetheless, the spider roared in pain! With so many injured legs, and its other attacker climbing up onto its back to stab it over and over, it could only do one thing--
throw itself backwards.There was a loud THUD as the big body landed on the cave's rocky floor. The greasy runt disappeared beneath its bulk...but underneath the spider's head, blue fluid began to seep onto the rocks.
Its legs and manibles thrashed madly for a few seconds...and then, like a hydraulic system shutting down, began to slowly close in on themselves...Currently, neither orcs nor spiders were moving...The cave grew eeriely silent...
Deep Forest
@ReusableSword
As the sound of Agar's missed step died away, the Tatzelwurm soon put its head down and seemed to be napping. Again relying on his new Muffle Skill, he quickly made his way to the mushroom patch. In addition to the
Red Cream and the Turtleshell, the System notified him of the name of the pointy-capped, rust-colored stems: He'd obtained
3 Liver Stalks.However, upon turning to check his surroundings again and choose which direction to go next, a streak of color that seemed entirely wrong for this environment caught his eye!
At the edge of this pocket of forest, hiding between the shadows of tree roots and keeping close to the trunks, was a
wolf. However, rather than black or grey, this creature had a pelt that was mostly brown towards its belly and feet, but lightened to a dirty blonde wheat color on most of its upper body. The hair running down its neck and back was long and stood stiffly; its tail was like a fluffy bushel of millet.
The creature looked quite skinny, and its eyes glimmered with a desperate hunger. A dark red tongue licked its chops as it fixed that ravenous gaze on its prey...
Luckily, that prey was not Agar. The orc runt was in the shadow of his own tree, in the dark patch where the mushrooms grew, and his own skin color melded with the environment much better than this beasts's did. Instead, the sleeping Tatzelwurm was the object of the wolf's stare, and as Agar watched the beast crept closer, one slow padfall after another...
Would he risk drawing attention to himself? Would he try to distract the monsters somehow, or just let them fight, and try to use that opportunity to slip away? Or maybe, like he'd done with the Harpy before, to try and take out the weaker of the two? The wolf looked weakened...but
it was also the second largest monster Agar had seen in these woods, after the horned alligator.
