Orc Camp
@ERode
The idea of "free samples" was apparently too sophisticated for the Orcs. Adults and Runts alike began grabbing as many sausages as they could in both hands, some of them even yelping as they burned themselves or poked themselves on the sharp end of Esfir's skewers. The two already fighting were joined by another pair.
The noise began to attract others, however, and some poked their curious noses as close as they could get without singing them and began pestering Esfir as she cooked.
"How ya makin' dem!?"
"What's in it?"
"Wot's dey taste loik!?"
While fending off their questions and hands that got a little too eager with her fire-blackened stick, Esfir soon proved much more matronly than orcs twice her age and size. With the Runts she was a little more gentle, whispering conspiratorially to a few of them.
"Runts gotta watch out for each other, yeah? It's a big orc's world out there!" But to the others showing off their greed, she barked more loudly. “Won't be teaching, but if you wanna watch, bring your kills here tomorrow and I’ll make something out of them. I’ll take my cut, you’d get the rest. Make it big kill though. Tatzelwurm n Harpy are too small for a meaty sausage." Several of the adult orcs shared looks among themselves, and there were several nods and grunts of assent. They weren't sure exactly how this Runt had learned how to make these things or why she spoke with such a bossy attitude, but she'd obviously proven she was capable of making good food that the rest of them didn't have access to. The idea of having someone else gut and cook their kills appealed to the more lazy ones, and trading for food seemed fair to some of the more meritorious warriors. But not all of them looked happy at being scolded by what was, by their standards, a mere child.
"Ha! All ya gots t'do is put 'em on a fiyah!" said one of the taller adults. Avoiding Esfir's stick and the open flames, he instead grabbed the long links of raw sausages--taking almost two dozen of them for himself! "There's lots o' fiyahs roun' heah!"
Then he turned to run, only to run smack into the muscled chest of an equally tall, yet meaner looking orc.
"Ah--Cah, capt'n XolkUUGH!?"
Whoever this "Captain Xol-something" was, the other orc didn't get the name out in time to stop the heavy fist from crashing into his jaw. It was a hard hit. The sausage thief's eyes rolled back into his eyes, and his arms stuck out stiff as boards as he fell forward and slightly to one side. The captain grabbed the sausages from his victim's limp fingers, then walked towards Esfir. After meeting eyes with her and simply observing for the space of a long, baited breath, he handed her back the victuals and crossed his arms.
"Whatcher playin' at, Runt?" he growled. "You wantin' to sell and barter these things? Or get food fer yaself without huntin' it?"
You've Cooked a Meal: Grilled Tatzel-Wurst!
Consumed: 2 Servings, Grilled Tatzel-Wurst (x10)!
This meal has been prepared in such a way that its nutritional value has increased! One or more servings of this meal were of higher quality than Average!
Activate [Ingestion: Tatzelwurm] (Y/N)? Approximate Ingestion: 35% > Boost! 95%!
Warning: This will ERASE current Ingestion!
Current Ingestion: [Pimpleshroom 10%]
Ingestible Skills [Pimpleshroom]: Further Progress Required.
Detected Ingestible Skills from [Tatzelwurm]!
- [Slash]
- [Poison Attack]
- [Muffle]
You are Well Fed. Your HP and SP recovery rates are temporarily boosted.
Quest Option: Meals 3/3 Fulfilled!
@King Cosmos
Akeno would see that the camp still bustled here and there with activity even as afternoon was starting to wear on. The Runt she knew as Esfir seemed to have started some kind of barbecue frenzy, which had attracted one of the adult orcs she'd seen accompanying the Warchief--presumably one of his body guards or direct subordinates. At least one orc had been laid out by a heavy punch, and a few others had stopped mid-squabble to stare at the Warchief's minion as he now stood over Esfir with his arms crossed.
The Shaman had finished whatever business she'd been at before, and now sat in a wooden chair simply looking around at the camp. She had that expression on her face universally associated with an elderly person in rural society, sitting on one's front porch in a squeaky rocker. When she caught Akeno's eye, the old she-orc half-smiled, one worn-down tusk peeking over her lips.
The Warchief's dwelling now had smoke coming from the large chamber under the main house, and the other body guard had a more relaxed posture as he stood at the foot of the stairs. She couldn't see exactly what the leader of the tribe was doing, but the smell of cooking meat was in the air. It might've been coming from Esfir's little project, or from any of the cookfires around the area, but of course the leader of this chaotic tribe would have to eat too at some point.
It seemed Builge and his two lackeys had left the farming orc alone for the moment. They were now wandering the camp, harassing any other target unlucky enough to bump into them.
The aforementioned farming orc was still digging by hand, either sewing seeds or building little heaps of fertilizer around them.
Aside from this, Akeno could also see that there were more Runts in the camp than before, though they somehow stood out less than the various orclings she'd been running around with earlier in the day...
South Caves
@Kazemitsu
Though Grunthor was able to get up without getting himself stuck to anything, using his Sharp Rock to scrape the spider goo made the primitive weapon too sticky and thickly coated in the congealing substance to continue using it. He had to swing his hand back and forth to get it to come off at all, and with a splat it now stuck to the ground. Maybe once it dried the goop could be cracked or burned off, but as of now he'd basically lost all of his weapons except for his own fists.
When he kicked the spider, it let out one final fart accompanied by another spurt of raw web-fluid. Then, a groan emanated from beneath its hairy, chitinous bulk. The spider twitched as the Runt beneath it started to work his way out--he was bleeding from a small gash on his head caused by scraping against the rocks, but other than that only looked bruised and winded.
"I'm alive, and as--cough--as far as EXP is con--hungh--concerned that's all that counts, baby!" The unnamned runt managed to work himself from side to side until everything above his waist was freed from the spider. He raised an eyebrow at Grunthor. "Are you planning to try and drag this sonnuvabitch back to the camp? We might have to chop--"
He stopped. His eyes went from side to side. His ears twitched. One hand groped the ground--but that knife of his was gone, likely still lodged in the back of the spider's skull.
"We aren't getting a system notice." he said in a grim tone. "We're still in combat range!"
But the darkness of the cave around them--for the torch had fallen on the ground somewhere, and was starting to sputter--remained eeriely silent. From where they stood, they could just barely see the corpse of a nearby orc. He wore animal hides and was thickly muscled, definitely an adult, but he was also most certainly dead. It looked--and smelled--like something had slashed his belly open. Clutched in his hand was a rust-specked sword with a chipped blade...But what lay beyond him was clad in total blackness...
Deep Forest
@ReusableSword
As Agar stayed hidden, applying the Tatzel Venom to his weapon and observing his potential prey--or predator--neither of the other two creatures took notice of him.
The wolf-like beast crept closer, and closer still, to the sleeping Tatzelwurm. When the snake-like creature twitched, the canine lowered its belly to the ground, ears flat. The Tatzelwurm settled in again, and again the wolf advanced.
Just as the beast came within a lunge-and-a-half's distance, the Tatzelwurm opened its eyes. Had it heard? Had it felt? It sensed something, and the predator sensed that its prey had detected it! The wolf lunged!
The Tatzelwurm coiled itself, rotating its entire body towards the direction of disturbance! The beast's paws hit the ground again--the Tatzelwurm hissed a warning, fangs spread, but too late, for the predator had momentum--and both creatures snarled!
The wolf's jaws came down on the snake-cat's midsection. The reptile lashed out with its claws at the beast's snout. Red blood flew and bone crunched! The tatzelwurm yowled and spat. The canine shook its shaggy head. A snaketail lashed like a leather whip, and the serpent's fangs snapped shut an inch from the other monster's ear! Those brown jaws shook again then released, only for the teeth to come down somewhere else. The tatzelwurm dodged solely by virtue of its wild thrashing--again, its claws found purchase, shaving a chunk of fur and flesh from the hound's shoulder! But the wolf pounced on it, halting its tail with one huge paw! Again the tatzelwum lunged, aiming those poisonous fangs at the other beast's chest. They snapped shut--and so did the wolf's jaws, on the back of the cat-snake's neck. Both bore down with snarls and yowls and yelps and howls.
Another crack and snap, and all was still. It had all happened in less than a minute. The tatzelwurm had only a mouthful of that thick, wheat-and-earth-colored fur. It had bitten down too soon. The wolf, however, had accomplished its task.
It shook the body again, even tossed it. Playing, or just making sure the enemy was dead? Then it bit into the creature's tail, and began yanking and pulling to separate the flesh, snapping its teeth against those bristly scales...