Across the Border

[Johan Batara]

The woods...he had grown tired of them. He had trekked for seven days now, and he had encountered no such threats. The nightmare still lingered in his head, but he washed those thoughts away. No, he would not need those thoughts now that he was away. That had passed.

Or at least he hoped it had.

Jiro walked the long dusty road in the lands of Sembia. He had heard of the plight of his people in this land of dark faiths and banditry...that they suffered from the harshness of the Sembians. It was here that he was to do something meaningful. It was here that his wills would be tested. It was here...in this land of sin.

From a far hill he saw what looked to be a town just a few miles away. He glanced at the rising moon, and nodded to himself. Night had fallen. I had better find a place to stay. He made his way down the slope carefully, his sandals crunching in the thick grass.

As he came closer, he spotted a huge figure clad in brown beside the gate. Its face was covered by a rusting, steel helm and in its hands was a tall pike. The darkness shrouded the man and Jiro felt uneasiness.

"Hail Rolork, the mightiest of rulers!" it bellowed. By the common, grunt-accustomed accent, the man reminded Kojiro of the mountain orcs he had slain. Must be a half-orc.

"Mm. Rolork." he responded in a soft voice, having no idea who or what a Rolork was. He had made it a point to speak softly to such people in order to test their intelligence and patience. His results proved successful. The half breed closed in and yelled, "Wha' you say?"

Jiro's lips curved slightly and looked around. A young boy with a mop of fair, straw-colored hair and a sooty face went running towards the guard from outside the gate. When he reached them, he panted and said with exasperated breath, "Please don't tell me ma I'm late again!"

The guard chuckled coldly and stood straight, placing his spear in his other hand and taking a swig from his half squished canteen. Jiro watched intently as the guard turned to the boy. "Mm. We'll see abou' that. Now hurry up, stupid human youngling. Your kind make me sick."

The boy smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Thanks." As he walked away, he looked at the man in black and red with the dyed straw hat. He nodded out of slight respect, but looked eager to be away. Jiro nodded slightly at him, tipping his hat to acknowledge the youngster, who was now spitting on his hands and making his face look cleaner. He had enough of this. Kojiro turned and walked away, leaving the boy creeping outside his house and the guard grunting with his spear.

Mulhessen, one of the few half breed villages that Jiro's ever seen. Even in the night, it was teeming with the bulky orc kin that called the trading town home. He felt small amidst the axe bearing giants who strolled around the streets, laughing, grunting, drinking and brawling. So savage. He did not expect to stay here, but he must now.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Jiro's shoulder. His hand immeadiately went to his sword, prepared to strike the brigand down, but as he turned...the face was that of a Keeper. The Rolorkian Keepers, Mulhessen's guards. He read about them in the Kryptgarden Library, but he knew little other than the fact they had the same fanatical devotion to this "Rolork" fellow. No one was to be trusted here.

"Mister," grunted the half-breed. "What your business here?" His breath stank of orc draught and he smelled quite foul, as if not having bathed for days. He wore the loincloth of the Keepers and had a necklace of fangs dangling around his neck. Furs adorned his shoulders and his boots were weathered by the time. His face was heavily scarred, and despite the dark night his greenish skin was quite obvious.

"Just passing by."

"Well, pass along then, we don't like no strangers here."

All in all, quite polite. For a half-orc. Jiro nodded slightly and walked off, eager to leave the place. The architecture was nothing to admire, being only simple painted wood. He could see tall laughing figures inside the inn. No, he cannot risk this savage town. He walked some more, past the poorly constructed gazebos, the tall foreboding trees and the suspicious orcs that wandered about, hands on axes and large bottles. He nodded slightly towards the gate guards and was off, his destination the city of Selgaunt.

Just as he walked some more, prepared to go through the night without sleep, he wondered if he had just made a big mistake, coming to this land. Hopefully not.

But of course, nothing's impossible in this land.

[Brokenbone]

Good story. My PC has great IC distaste for Mulhessen... their tourist chamber of commerce ought to do something about the halforcs.