“Hooooly Hellhounds Greshie, what happened to you!?” Maribel breathed, taking in as much as her field of vision could manage of the Orc’s stupendously enormous frame. “Was that some sort of…allergic reaction from that glowy potion?”
Though the texture of her face had softened from her transformation, Gresha’s brow furrowed as she silently eyed the beyond-helpless halfling still in her grasp. As usual, she was able to communicate exactly was she intended with as few words as possible.
“Wh—whoa now,” Maribel stammered, an obvious waver in her tone. “I swear on my ancestors, I did not know this was gonna happen!” The halfling was not unaccustomed to her companion’s sour moods—commonplace for any orc. In fact, she often took perverse pleasure in getting under Gresha’s skin, even deep enough to lead to her getting swiped at by the larger woman’s fists. This never concerned her, since for one, she was nimble enough to dodge, and for two, Gresha wasn’t ever serious enough to put a concentrated effort into the attempt. Now that the size difference between them had greatly increased however, both of these reasons were rendered completely, even laughably moot.
Fortunately for Maribel, her claim was accepted and Gresha’s stern glare dissipated. “Fine,” she nodded as she set Maribel back down on the ground, though the latter couldn’t help but notice how unusually quick this shift in demeanor was. Wait…was she just pretending to be pissed to make sure I was honest? That sneaky little—er…big…bigger…woman.
Frowning at herself for getting flustered and stumbling over a quip—one she didn’t even say out loud at that—she slumped to the ground in front of her and began sifting through the rocky debris. “Gotta find our pack,” she muttered. “Hopefully it didn’t get too far buried.”
Gresha couldn’t help but smirk at her normally unflappable partner. “I’ll go clean up,” she replied, “over at the lake a few miles back.” Orcs didn’t tend to bother with regular hygiene, but her ascension through several feet of stone and earth had left her quite caked in dirt. With one mighty leap, she launched herself into the sky, creating a deep woosh sound from the large volume of air she suddenly displaced. Maribel looked up for a moment and watched the jade blur of bulk disappear over the horizon, then returned to her search.
Though the remains of the demolished cave were spread out over a large area, Maribel was surprised at how small the individual chunks were. Wow, she really hit that cave hard. At least it makes it easier to dig through. A few displaced piles later, she finally spotted a bit of leather poking out of the gravel. Pulling it free and looking inside, she sighed in relief to find the contents had miraculously remained intact.
I suppose it wouldn’t have been a major loss anyway…not while I still have this. She reached into her pocket and felt the outline of the glass vial as well as the slight warmth it still radiated. Wait…what’s this? Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a small nearby stone, though this was of a noticeably different shade and shape as the others. It was thin and oblong, with a thicker, rounded tip on one side and six evenly-spaced prongs jutting out from the other side. Rather than stone, it appeared to be a crude iron.
Weird…it looks like someone made this, she turned the object over a few times in her hand before slipping it into one of her other pockets. I wonder if there are any other pieces like it in here? She continued rummaging for the next several minutes, losing track of time and her surroundings as she was pulled into this unexpected curiosity. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over her that her senses returned, but it wasn’t a shadow she would have expected.
“Stay where you are, little blunt-tooth,” a voice growled. Maribel froze, then slowly angled her gaze upward. In front of her stood half a dozen orcs, all clad in animal furs and skins and holding razor-sharp spears. Maribel put up her hands in surrender and slowly rose, trying to look as non-threatening as possible even though for her that didn’t seem a particularly difficult feat.
“Um…greetings, fellow travelers,” the halfling offered an overly polite smile. “I was just stopping for a rest in this…rock quarry. I’ll be happy to get out of your way.”
“What’s your hurry?” A voice from behind the first few orcs barked. Those brandishing their spears stepped aside to allow someone else through—someone who, were it not for the events in the last few minutes, would have left Maribel a bit more in awe. The source of the voice, a female orc, was larger than Gresha was at her original size with a musculature to match. She even towered over the male orcs present, adorned with the most extravagant of their makeshift clothing, as well as an assortment of bones draped across her broad torso.
“I am Kuratha, chief of clan Qo’Gol,” the orc announced, returning Maribel’s smile with a stony glare. “And you are trespassing on our land.”
Maribel rapidly nodded. “Ah, then, to answer your previous question—and to repeat my previously stated intention—I will leave as soon as possible.”
“No!” Kuratha rebuffed her. “You will first tell me why you are here and what has caused the great disturbance of the ground we heard from our camp across this plain and we see here now.”
“What? You mean this pile of rocks wasn’t always here? Huh…that’s interesting.”
Kuratha took another step forward until Maribel was completely enveloped in her shadow. “Do not test me,” she spoke quieter, yet somehow even more menacing. “Or I will throw you against these boulders like the tiny pebble you are. Now, once again, you will tell me what happened to this place.”
THOOOM! a gargantuan pair of legs impacted the earth several yards behind them, sending a shockwave outward that caused the gathered group to stumble in unison. The orcs looked up in abject shock at the being that had just landed, while Maribel cross her arms and smiled smugly. “Weeellll…it’s more of a ‘who’ than a ‘what’.”
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