Orc Quest

>>610062
'Ead inta da soide roads, if any git troies 'ta mug me Oi'll jus' bash 'ere 'ead in.

We are a badass Orc I think we can handle a little violence
>back roads we go

>>610293
>>610295

You head north to avoid the main road. The streets are narrower here, the vagrants scrawnier. Back alley bars dot every corner. The open sewer has given way to an entire street covered in muck. The smell is pungent and skunky. Beggars and orphan children crowd around you, the potential for pickpockets makes you glad of your codpiece. A brothel gleams of faint magic further down the lane, you can just make out a glowing red outline of a female figure. A dark alleyway hints invitingly at more direct passage east.

Choose your path.

>free form

>>610431
Dark alleyway, we are a badass orc who don't give a shit about the dark.

>>610431
Dahk alley.

The alleyway's vertical horizon is covered by strung laundry. It gives it a checkered appearance. As you proceed, the way grows narrower. Up ahead there is a crossroads. As you cross, blows suddenly rain down upon you. You turn but they are coming from all sides.

>Roll 1d12 for your life

>surrender

Make your choice.

Rolled 10 (1d12)

Retreat!
Grab an orphan as we run away we are gonna need a packmule/support char later

>it's an orphan no one will care if it's gone anyway

Rolled 1, 3, 4, 5 = 13 (4d6)

>>610561

>>610636

This is gonna be close.


Hoping for an exit you lurch to the left and stamp down on the attacker's foot. As he howls your left elbow slams into his windpipe and your momentum takes him down. You look past. Dead end. Shit. By this time the guy has completed half a backspring and you grab whatever is closest to you which is his right shin, which you use to ward off the other attacker's blackjacks. The leg wrenches and breaks as you bend it back and beat off the other assailants. Executing a swift backstep you lure another attacker into the alley and hurling the leg like a sling, wrap it around his neck and squeeze, then using the leg garrotted victim as a shield, charge forth and bulldoze another attacker into the opposite alley, but this is also a dead end and you now enraged beat him to death with your bare hands and turn to find the fourth assailant gone.

Searching the bodies you find 45 cash, three blackjacks, and some soiled clothing. In the mangled pant leg pocket you grab what appears to be a Lucky Girl patron card, with all the stamps no less.

You leave the bodies in suggestive positions to discourage investigation and move on your way.

Which way was that exactly?

>>610711
We can go check dish plashe out aftah we get our old man's 'ammer, moight actually get 'ta put it 'ta good yoosh. Keep goin' to our brudda's plashe.

All bodies naked and ass to mouth with the words

"elfs r gey" Cut into their backs

>the raceway begins today

>>610757
>>610770

As you make your way east you come to the north main street. Heavy cart traffic travels back and forth. The north/south axis is commercial, you remember. You judge the relative velocities and make a brisk walk for it immediately after the last passing cart. As you reach the other side and leap the sewer a whistle screams out. A guardsman approaches. You eye his scale mail and scimitar. His hand hangs loosely over the pommel.

>Politely ask what the problem is

>Tell him where he can shove it

>he's a dirty elf guard

Kill him

>>610854
>Politely ask what the problem is

Ain't no reashon to be a dick ladsh, we jusht want da 'ammer, maybe shee 'shum 'umie booty too on da way out.

>>610873
It's a human town.

>>610885

You begin to ask what the problem is but he tells you to shut up. He says something about jaywalking. You ask where exactly it is you are supposed to cross, but he doesn't give a straight answer. After a while you realize he's angling for a bribe.

>pay bribe (50 cash)

>lecture him on race relations and the common rights of anthropoids

>>610897
>lecture him on race relations and the common rights of anthropoids

Oi'm not payin' any fookin' bribe.

Humans can't beat an Orc in physical ability

>simply run away

>>610897
>lecture him on race relations and the common rights of anthropoids

Remind him that the view that orcs are all raping murder machines is a conspiracy made by feminazis.

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As you recite the fundamental injustices listed in Bok Choka Woka's landmark Fourteen Points, before you can nail the point on subtle bias and trauma projection, the guardsman yells at you to get down on the ground and stop resisting. Before you can react he hurls a glass vial at your feet, which explodes. You realize your are lying on the ground, your face treacherously near the gutter, the last thing you see is a pair of boots.

You come to in a dank dungeon, in fetters. It is a narrow four by four cell, the fetters require that you cannot lie down comfortably. The full litany of charges is unknown to you, but considering your predicament, you suspect the worst. There is no room to move. You feel a shit coming on. You cannot even move your hand to lower your britches.

How do you spend the night?

>meditate

>attempt to break free of bonds

>call for help

>etc

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great job so far guys.I suggest we be the good guy again and wait out the entirety of our sentence like the sweet little sunflower we are

dafuq were ya thinking trying to reason with a corrupt cop

>>611683
>attempt to break free of bonds

>>611741
'At wuz a mistake. Awroight, toime 'ta do it da 'ard way.

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>>611777

The trips have spoken. You break free of your fetters just in time to lower your pants and shit in the complementary bucket. You have nothing to wipe with.

The door on the other hand proves a challenge. Behind it appears to be solid stone. How the fuck did they do that?

You do not know when morning comes, but that is when they come for you. The guard introduces himself as Frodhung. He holds one of the magic baubles that took you out the first time. You know better to resist. To your surprise he hands you a bucket and sponge. "Wash up," he says. "You're lucky. You have a visitor."


To be continued.

>>612099
I enjoyed it, thanks for running.

Frodhung's medallion allows him to walk through the rock. The corridor reveals itself, and then transforms back into stone once he passes. (The structural walls are obviously de-tuned) The trick involves harmonic resonance of magical frequencies, temporarily phasing the stone out of existence. It rematerializes at a radius of several cubits. You make sure to keep pace.

"When you meet the warden you must be exceptionally courteous. It appears that someone has paid your fine and obtained you a hearing. This is your last chance."
The doorway to the Warden's office is flanked by two gargoyles. Their eyes seem to follow you as you move. The antechamber is a perfect rectangle, a lamp, coffee table, and benches indicate regular visitation. The door frame is composed of smoothed scarlet orthoclase, the door itself appears to be oak riveted with iron, the design is simply a vanishing point where the corridor continues as it were, into the painting. A logo at the top reads "Only Those Who Harbor No Ill Will May Pass."

"Go on." Says Frodhung. Taking a breath you step into the door. To your surprise you do not stub your toes. The transition is smooth and flawless, as your eyes adjust to the brightness, you find yourself in a garishly adorned dining room with all the usual furniture, paintings, floor frescoes of what appears to be a map of the city [red is very much the theme here], a three foot birdcage with the curtain drawn, but what most draws your attention is the table at which sit two people, one human, one orc, sharing a jug of wine.

"Come in, come in and join us," the Warden says. He is a heavyset man who drinks his wine straight and curls his hair. You seat yourself at the table directly opposite the orc, with the warden seated at the head. The warden claps and the cage opens, revealing a scantily clad goblin female in servile posture. She is about two cubits tall, of dusky complexion, almost human proportions yet smaller, features sharper (or could that be malnourishment?). A cup is pressed to your lips, before you know it several rounds have passed, the fire is already rising from your lungs by the time your brother speaks. "It has been too long, Bel-Samu, I never thought I would see my little brother again." Mu-Basa still uses the diminutive 'samu' to refer to you. You are glad the human wouldn't understand the meaning. He speaks now.

"Your brother is a well respected citizen. I want you to know that you are among friends. Cufir is a quiet city. Tell us of your travels."

You recall some of the tales making the way of the caravan paths. In the meantime the goblin has been ferrying piping hot trays filled with chicken legs, stuffed blood sausage, and other northern delicacies, first holding the offerings for the warden's approval and then setting them down on the table. The food is sumptuous and you have a season's worth of belly aches to compensate for. The wine is hot and spicy. No one complains at you taking more than your share. Your tall tales hold a captive audience as the goblin proffers a steaming platter of stuffed rolls and trembles from the heat as the warden pretends not to notice.

In an instant his expression turns from cheer to rage. He smacks the goblin hard, sending her flying accross the room and slamming into tables and chairs and scattering the rolls. Amazingly, she recovers quickly, and with cat-like reflexes begins picking up the mess while wincing at the verbal lashing to follow. "These are yesterday's rolls! I told you to bring the ones from today!"

When he finishes lecturing his servant he remembers his guests. "Goblins," he sneers. "We capture more of them by weight than they plunder in their raids. Stupid fuckers. Soon we'll be overrun by the slaves alone. The mines and brothels all have a waiting list. Might have to start purging soon. Haha. When you're done bring me my sjambok!" He cups his hand and turns to shout the last sentence.

You stutter as you try to recall where you left off. The time when Ras Mootig caught what he thought was a five legged goat. "You should have seen his face when the villagers..."

"Oh yes, the goat joke, we had a similiar one five years ago. Only here it was the three legged orc. Although we are progressive in the central district, a genuine, modern international city, the rest are filled with slums and other unfortunates. If you want to be treated like quality, my advice to you is to remain among the quality. Your brother performs an invaluable service to this city, and he has vouched for you and offered you his residence. But outside these inner walls we can make no guarantees. For some will never follow the rules, and for others the rules do not apply."

The goblin girl has returned, after approving the rolls he holds out his hand where she dutifully places his sjambok. "Excuse me." He says to his guests as he stands. He throws her on the floor and proceeds to lash the goblin with his sjambok. She offers no resistance. Minutes pass. You and your brother eat out of politeness and to pass the time. Whimpers and clicks make a staccato rythym. You speak in low undertones.

"You don't live in the orc district?"

"No, I don't live in the orc district."

"Have you turned your back on our people, brother?"

"I haven't turned my back. I've shown them the way. Our people live in shacks not even a fist's length apart. If someone doesn't show them a way out they'll never get out. They'll stay in that ghetto for the rest of existence."

"I do not approve of this. Father would not approve of this."

"I'm not here to ask for your approval. I'm here to save you, from a fate worse than death."

The warden beats the goblin until she quiets and lies still. By then the food has gone cold.

Kufir is a quiet city.

Your belongings (even your ill gotten ones) have been returned to you, bloodstains and all. Your inventory is as follows: One string of ancestral beads (sentimental value), three worn blackjacks, three dirty rags, a leather bag containing 100 bronze wedges, a string of 45 copper cash, plus the clothes on your back. You give a start when you think you lost the patron card, but find it was in your pants pocket all along.

Mu-Basa leads you down black marble paved streets with neither vagrants or graffiti.

"Are you a rat?" You ask with deadly seriousness.

"Use your brains Samu. An informant in a position of respect? No one, no side of the law ever accords an informant respect."

"What do you do?"

"Astronomy."

"So you predict the future?"

"No, that's astrology. "

"So what can you do?"

"Assist the archon who practices astrology... It's more important than you think. Astronomy provides the only accurate method of determining the exact date. A year and its days have a remainder. If the dates for the festivals are wrong, the authorities look foolish. The festivals are actually more important than physical governance."

"How can this be?"

"The date of the Spring festival signals the beginning of planting season. There's only one planting season in this clime, so if you miss the mark it could mean famine. On the other hand, miss a sports festival and people might burn down the city. It's a tricky thing, placating the masses."

You come to a doorway of olivene with the crystals strategically placed at the corners, the outward facing walls are composed of seamless block of gabbro. The door itself is simple oak with a brass knocker of a bull with a ring through the nose. As you are lead into the inner courtyard you are greeted with the delightful sound of metal strings plucking, and the running of water - there are four fountains which arc towards their opposite diagonal, forming a dome. The streams are so precise there's no deviant spray. Inside the dome is a small circular jet black table with floor cushions as seats. There are candles in the center within a wide cylindrical cage. The rest of the courtyard is given depth by multiple sheets of colored fabric, with knotted cords for doorways.

"Näisse! I'm home. This is my brother I talked about." Mu - Basa yells softly. The music trails off although you wish it had not.

Näisse emerges from behind a curtain. Her clothing below the neck is a series of loosely overlapping veils, but her grace betrays a lithe figure. Hair the color of charcoal is tied in a bun with a pink ribbon. Her cheekbones and chin could form a triangle, if but for her seemingly permanent smirk. Her nose is short and round at the tip, ears round (elliptical). A human wife.

She pours out tea into tiny cups and places the pot on the candle rack - now you know what that's for - greets you demurely and beckons that you sit. The fountains cool the air around you, the summers here are short but hot. She notices you notice the fountains and explains: "In the winter it shoots hot water. Mu designed it. He's so talented."

What do you do?

>kill your brother and claim your inheritance as custom demands (plus he is a degenerate with a human wife and all)
>politely inquire as to the whereabouts of father's hammer
>thank Näisse for the tea and ask her to play more music
>tell Näisse the goat joke

(Roll 1d100, the highest roll determines the choice)

As you can tell I am not used to using the tripcode.

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>619194
>Git our father's hammer of war!

>>619337

Everyone, for the sake of clarity, please quote the option you choose.

>>619337
>politely inquire as to the whereabouts of father's hammer

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>619194
>kill your brother and claim your inheritance as custom demands (plus he is a degenerate with a human wife and all)

>>619537

Degenerate as he may be, your brother is still an orc. You take no chances as you grab the piping hot ceramic teakettle and smash it over his face. As he howls you cave his skull in with a blackjack.

Moments pass and the realization of what you have done has settled in. Näisse won't stop screaming. What do you do?

>free form

>>624830
Blindfold and gag her then rip her arms out of their sockets and watch as the human scum tries to pathetically crawl away.

>>624842

You lift her like a feather and using the soiled rags (soiled rags - 1) blindfold and gag her. You then savagely rip the arms out her sockets like you would pull the wings off an insect and watch bemusedly as the blood spurts and stutters with her heartbeat. Those hands will never again grace an instrument. She appears to be going into shock. You lick the blood off your fingers as you ransack the house for your prize.

You come to the opposite end of the building and come to a sort of shrine. An altar stands in the middle, the air reeks of incense, and on a plaque on the wall you can spot a shiny war hammer. Except this isn't your father's hammer. Enraged you smash the brittle plywood forgery against the wall and it shatters. Suddenly breathless, you run back hoping to question Näisse.

In your absence she has bled out. A pale lifeless husk is all that remains of the woman who loved an orc. Instantly you regret killing the only people who might possibly know the hammer's location.

As you stand in your brother's cold blood, you ponder your next move.

>free form

>>625007
Search for names of your brother's contacts and then compile it into a list, while searching for other notes of importance (Loot Näisse as well).

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Searching Mu-Basa you find several rings, which you equip (three ring slots filled, non magical [or so far as you can tell], unarmed damage increased to 1d15, ring slots filled 3/8). One is made of strange wood, you cannot make out the inscription but it is very beautiful and well done. One is of clear glass and feels cool to the touch. It has a slight magnification to it. The last is onyx encrusted gold, a wedding ring most like. You also find a blood splattered courtier's robe. You should probably wash that out sometime.

Naisse is naked beneath her shifting veils, although you do find several pieces of jewelry, a jade hairpin, an identical onyx ring to the one you found on Mu-Basa except oppositely justified such that they form a symmetrical pair (which you pocket but cannot fit on your finger), and silver arm rings, which you tear off and accidentally bend while doing so (-20% value)

Doing a more thorough search of the premises you find little in the way of hard cash. It appears your brother was a patron of the local bank. In your previous haphazard diggings you have accidentally spilled ink on a document with the Kufir Banking Guild Letterhead. You cannot make out most of it, but it appears your brother had been denied a loan. The sum is large. The letterhead is dated several months ago.

You find a newspaper with the dates of upcoming horse races perfectly circled in black pen.

Apparently he was a worshiper of Bardok, as evidenced by the Bardokian phallus used as a tableweight, as well as the spam they keep sending him. You recall passing by a storefront temple to Bardok back on the west road.

The list of Mu-Basa's contacts is exhaustive. As an eminent astronomer he kept correspondence with half the globe. You cannot even begin to read what must be thousands of pages. Most of his local contacts seem to be the elite, intelligentsia, persons of society, the wealthy, the powerful, generally people not to be fucked with. You also find several drafts of letters with incredulously excellent penorcship. The letters are addressed to... Naisse. Writing letters while living in the same house. What a weirdo.

Feeling hungry you ransack the pantry and gorge yourself on cheese.

Having sated your appetite you pause to consider your options.


>free form

Actions determined by popularity, you can change your vote, but only once.

>>635728
> look for wine, drink some, search for an club.

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You stumble into the wine cellar. There are dozens of ceramic vessels, sealed and labeled, ten year, twenty year, hundred year pressings. Jackpot. You mean to sample the best wine and end up chugging it. One after the other. You make your way down, best to worst.

It is dark by the time you stumble out the doors. Somehow you find yourself walking down a familiar road, lead by shiny red lights. As you stare at the facade uncomprehending, the Lucky Girl patron card burns a hole in your pocket. You ingress.

You are greeted by the aroma of scented candles, sweat (is that sweat?), and wide stares. Somewhere an acoustic bass plays scales. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcsSscOk0Vo There are numerous alcoves and candlelit tables around a central stage. Curtains are drawn for now. There about a dozen patrons, drinking and carousing, from a far corner you hear the familiar sound of dice.

The bouncer stares at your blood and wine stained rags and asks if you have money. You fumble for your card. He stares at it for a moment and hands it off to an attendant with brown hair and green eyes. Her outfit is an ensemble of form fitting cords. She blows a strange shiny dust on the card. It glows. "Oh, it's real." The bouncer waves you forward.

Though you are already drunk beyond belief, you are immediately plied with spiced wine and platters of meat are set on a table before you. A pair of goblin girls hang over each arm and tend to every need. This is the life. A madam claps and a curtain draws on the stage, the other curtains remain down, this is a private viewing.

The goblin girl hanging (literally, since she's so short) over your right shoulder whispers. "Today's special is quarter price goblin girls. You might want to spend your free card on something more expensive. Unless.." She nibbles slightly at your ear as she speaks. You ignore her. The show is about to begin. The girls make a brief introduction, and perform a little dance, before giving way to the next.

Your options are:
>Ruma - Exotic elf girl from the east, she is painted lightly blue, and appears frightened.

>Emil - Scarf wearing human, blows kisses at you from between her legs

>Urgis - Busty orc female, big booty, smells like feet. She cocks her hairy behind in your direction and slaps it several times.

>Cladis - Goblin girl, apparently double jointed, petite, green of hair.

>Melf - Gray skinned, silver haired, healthy teeth and thighs that can crack a walnut. A fairly typical troll from the mountains.

>The servers come as a pair, why not them?

>>643118
>Urgis - Busty orc female, big booty, smells like feet. She cocks her hairy behind in your direction and slaps it several times.

Part 'a da reashon we killed our brudda in da fusht plashe'sh caushe he wush rashemikshin'. 'Don be a duh-gen-uh-rut.

>>643190

Urgis barks at you to follow her upstairs and you do. She pads her heat with sandpaper as is custom. After a bloody and excruciating ordeal you make your way back downstairs. A man sitting at the dice table waves you over.

>play dice

>browse more of the selection

>>643247
>play dice

Rolled 5, 6, 4, 6, 4, 4 = 29 (6d6)

The game is pairs. The player with the highest number of pairs, or highest pairs wins. Reroll if tie.

The dealer rolls. The other players kindly sit out this round.

>place your bet (min bet 20 cash) roll 6d6
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

>>643438
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

'N 'ow mush cash do I 'ave, again?

Rolled 4, 2, 3, 1, 4, 3 = 17 (6d6)

>>643475

35 $ (plus the 100 bronze wedges, plus the various loot).

Dealer rolls.

>place your bet (min bet 20 cash) roll 6d6
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

Rolled 6, 4, 4, 6, 4, 3 = 27 (6d6)

>>643519
>Bet 20

>>643577

Sixes and fours beat fours and threes. You earn 20, doubled because of dubs. You now have 75$.

Dealer rolls.

>place your bet (min bet 20 cash) roll 6d6
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

Rolled 2, 1, 6, 1, 3, 6 = 19 (6d6)

>>643592

Dealer rolls.

>>643600
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

Rolled 2, 2, 1, 3, 5, 3 = 16 (6d6)

One of the drunks hops in the game. Odds decrease but the payout increases (now 2:1).

Dealer rolls.

Rolled 4, 1, 6, 6, 2, 1 = 20 (6d6)

Drunk # 1 rolls

>place your bet (min bet 20 cash) roll 6d6
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

>>643690
>buy out of round (minus 10 cash)

>continue playing

>cash out (you're up ten bucks)

>free form, make chatter, etc.

>>648080
>cash out (you're up ten bucks)