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by Skallagrim on Sun Feb 10, 2008 11:18 pm
Warrgh chuckled at the loyalty displayed by Grange. His eyes fell on the knight, his eyes going to the hand resting by the sword. Warrgh eased his left foot forward and bent the knee, his right leg back but also bent. The two-handed sword still held in his hands, loosely able to arc out and slice the kinght's face, neck or hands. Probably before he could react and pull his own sowrd.
"Obviously you are a warrior. How good matters little to me, you have the cocksure arrogance of all humans, and it is a pity that you do. I was rather hoping I had found an intelligent human, not a muscled bound oaf in armor hacking away clumsily with a overweight piece of metal. Why don't you be a good little whelp and find me someone who can deal intelligently and not waste my time with meaningless words. I have a war to stop."
Warrgh watched the human. It was clear he probably fancied himself a good fighter, probably in his world a great fighter. But he had no sense of war or fighting. He had no proper stance, he stood too close and from the look of it he assumed his armor would protect him. Chuckling Warrgh smiled at the knight. He loved humans like this, falsely believing they were superior to an orc who studied war from the time they could walk.
"So master knight shall you find someone who can help stop a war between the Orc Nations and your allied kingdoms?" Warrgh growled lightly.
The writer who cares more about words than about characters, action, setting, atmosphere is unlikely to create a vivid and continuous dream; he gets in his own way too much; in his poetic drunkenness, he can't tell the cart- and its cargo- from the horse.
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