Witch doctor in training (2)

“Heya! Hey!”

“Are ya tryin’ to scare meh ta death?” Lith’jin yelled back on top of her lungs, sucking on her bloodied finger. The knife had sliced cleanly through the skin instead of the thorny plant she was struggling to cut. The orc that had caused all the mess gave her an apologetic look.

She wasn’t too fond of orcs – maybe because she simply hadn’t met many – but she thought this one seemed a bit lost. He just stood there and eyed her quietly. Not much older than her, he carried a massive war axe that fit nicely with his stature. Well, maybe it could use a bit of sharpening and polishing.

A ragtag armor completed the sight: a rusty mail jacket over a shabby brown shirt and some obviously too large leggings, only held up by a stout belt. Lith’jin gave him a sniff. She had seen the kind before, passing through Sen’jin on their way to Razor Hill. Razor Hill was an orcish outpost somewhere at a day’s march north.
She had only been there once – and as far from home as she had ever got. They claimed to be going to do “war for the clan and the Horde”. Something to do with muscles and no brain, Lith’jin was sure of that.

“Wat would ya be doin’ starin’ at meh?”

She resolved to sheathe the knife more forcefully that she needed to, and glared at him, hands on her hips.

“Maybe you need help?”

It was not a question, but a hopeful statement.

“I’ve been sent by my teacher to help around the village”, he continued, very politely, if a little gruffly. Lith’jin gave him another appraising look. Well at least he seemed large enough to get the job done...

“Help, ya say? Ah be havin’ some business fo’ ya, orc. Pull ‘tis out fo’ meh”.

And then, maybe she could talk him into collecting that horrible, gooey crawler mucus she had to fetch for Master Vornal. He was the elder of the village and a very nasty old troll to deal with…He must have been taking a sadistic pleasure to harry younglings around to do his chores. And he was never content with what they did, either…

Stifling a laugh, she set to observe the orc more carefully, as he tried to find a way to grip the thorny bush she showed him, without stinging his fingers too much.

“I am Morgg”, he said. The plant roots gave a loud “crack” and then he lifted it carefully, earth and pebbles showering down from the tangle. “Where do I put this?”

“Ah be Lith’jin”. She nearly rubbed her hands together. “Ya don’t mind help meh wit some othe’ stuff, no?”