Entry the Seventh – The Cottage
My training as an orc warrior has begun. Firstly, Magar wove my hair back and up into something like a wide ponytail. He actually wove it, instead of just knots, so that I can undo it later without cutting all my hair off. I am truly grateful. Second, began my combat training. Magar is a considerate and realistic trainer, if not a kind and caring mentor. He is the complete opposite of what I expected in an orc. I now know how to use a sword and axe. My bow skills are also coming along nicely. The orc bows are so large and clumsy, but they are easy enough to master. I still look too much like an elf, though. I am too graceful, and not strong enough yet to pass for one of them. I think I've shown amazing progress in the last two weeks, and I should be ready in a few more days to join the tribe.
***
continued – Camp, just inside Mirkwood
Well, I fit in, so far. Magar announced my presence yesterday, saying that I'm a relation of his, the sole survivor of a slaughtered tribe. They listened to everything he said, even when he told them I was young and still shaken from seeing the execution of my entire tribe. Some of them looked at me almost sympathetically. I am amazed they even cared, because these orcs are not like Magar at all. I saw one of them chewing dirt out from between their toes with their teeth! These are the most uncouth creatures I've ever seen. At least I've learned a thing or two about how to curse properly. I'm appalled to think about how I now look just like them, thanks to some makeshift makeup that's mostly ashes and mud. I've had to cover my ears, which will certainly give me away, but that's a constant worry.
I've endured their initiation custom. They pit the 'new guy' against one of the stronger members of the tribe. The new one's not obligated to win, it's more of a hazing ritual to test your combat prowess. However, thanks to Magar's training, I beat my opponent, Lucha. I am ever wary that there is no honor among these barbarians, and Lucha did not lose gracefully. However, it was not a fair fight because that is not the way of the orcs. There were innumerable cheap shots from both of us, and I thank my lucky stars that my ears were not uncovered. The rest of the tribe seems to be warming right up to me in their own burly way. After my victory, two orcs called Reb and Girk jokingly tossed me around. Girk said that I was the lightest orc alive, and Reb gave me my nickname, Runt. These two have made it their mission to 'put some meat on my bones'. The tribe will move again tomorrow, and I am glad to be going deeper into the forest.
My training as an orc warrior has begun. Firstly, Magar wove my hair back and up into something like a wide ponytail. He actually wove it, instead of just knots, so that I can undo it later without cutting all my hair off. I am truly grateful. Second, began my combat training. Magar is a considerate and realistic trainer, if not a kind and caring mentor. He is the complete opposite of what I expected in an orc. I now know how to use a sword and axe. My bow skills are also coming along nicely. The orc bows are so large and clumsy, but they are easy enough to master. I still look too much like an elf, though. I am too graceful, and not strong enough yet to pass for one of them. I think I've shown amazing progress in the last two weeks, and I should be ready in a few more days to join the tribe.
***
continued – Camp, just inside Mirkwood
Well, I fit in, so far. Magar announced my presence yesterday, saying that I'm a relation of his, the sole survivor of a slaughtered tribe. They listened to everything he said, even when he told them I was young and still shaken from seeing the execution of my entire tribe. Some of them looked at me almost sympathetically. I am amazed they even cared, because these orcs are not like Magar at all. I saw one of them chewing dirt out from between their toes with their teeth! These are the most uncouth creatures I've ever seen. At least I've learned a thing or two about how to curse properly. I'm appalled to think about how I now look just like them, thanks to some makeshift makeup that's mostly ashes and mud. I've had to cover my ears, which will certainly give me away, but that's a constant worry.
I've endured their initiation custom. They pit the 'new guy' against one of the stronger members of the tribe. The new one's not obligated to win, it's more of a hazing ritual to test your combat prowess. However, thanks to Magar's training, I beat my opponent, Lucha. I am ever wary that there is no honor among these barbarians, and Lucha did not lose gracefully. However, it was not a fair fight because that is not the way of the orcs. There were innumerable cheap shots from both of us, and I thank my lucky stars that my ears were not uncovered. The rest of the tribe seems to be warming right up to me in their own burly way. After my victory, two orcs called Reb and Girk jokingly tossed me around. Girk said that I was the lightest orc alive, and Reb gave me my nickname, Runt. These two have made it their mission to 'put some meat on my bones'. The tribe will move again tomorrow, and I am glad to be going deeper into the forest.
