Snippet #2689501

Oaklum settled his eyes on what Una called a 'Wizard'. Wizard. Oaklum could forgive Una for her use of magic, given it's more holy, and therefore divine, nature. After all, power gifted by the gods, the very beings who set forth the motion of this world, was in itself, a natural power. Well... He thought that. Draith on the other hand disagreed constantly, but the Orc wasn't friends with Draith for it's blasted opinions.

Wizards, however, made their own magic, deriving it from either divine, foul, or their own wit. It was unnatural in the orcs mind, and though he could forgive it for it's more practical uses, he surely didn't understand the more varied uses of magic.

When Una drank a potion, and was suddenly able to stand herself, all the Orc could do was stare. He'd have bashed her in the head again, except too many would cry out 'assualt' like a bunch of milk drinkers. Who in 'dere ioght mind goes travelin' without 'dat sort'ah thing? I mean, ya' obviousl'eh 'ave access to 'et, 'ell, ya can make da' dead mist shift back! How da'... Bah, woz ev'ah. He thought angrily, following behind her. He resolved he wouldn't head butt her... But ensured that she thought better next time.

"So, if ya' gunn'ah 'ave m'eh tag 'long... Woz ya' stor'eh? Woz going on with ya' 'en da' priceless lookin' sword?"