08-28-2013, 10:18 PM
Before she could deduce just how to take this strange, hard-shelled creature called “Samusaran”, more activity pulsed around her. Several more strange creatures emerged from a structure she hadn’t noticed previously. It spewed a clear liquid – water?- in a large arc several feet away from the source. A fine, wet mist enveloped it, and occasionally, she could feel the droplets spritz against her face.
Her body was tensed, hands instinctively going for the jeweled pummels of her daggers (thankfully, they were still there, she observed with relief) and withdrawing them from their leather sheaths. One other female and two males emerged, all three initially similarly disoriented, but quickly recovering enough to make introductions.
The short male with the funny green headscarf seemed even more perplexed than she, especially towards the taller, red haired giant. Instead of simply pummeling the scrawny creature, as most of her kind would have done, he responded eloquently towards the smaller man’s claims. Still, there was something unsettling about him. His sticky sweet tone reminded her of…of…someone. She saw the elder orc’s face, but for the life of her, couldn’t place the name. Her memories were coming in fragments, but they weren’t coming quickly enough to her liking. She scowled around her dainty fangs, her emerald complexion darkening with her mood.
She observed their banter, noticing that the two knew each other, even if it wasn’t a civil relationship. None of the others seemed to recognize the other, and with the exception of these two, the rest seemed to be completely alien. She wondered, though, if any others would appear that would be like her, that she could find some connection to her home. Would the ancestors curse her to live in a world where neither they nor her kind roamed?
“A thousand deaths will never erase what you’ve done in the past, but now is not the time to ponder redemption. We need to figure out who else will be popping up, and where the hell we are. Even more important, we need to figure out if there is a way back.” Garona stepped towards the imposing figure of the red-haired man.
Her body was tensed, hands instinctively going for the jeweled pummels of her daggers (thankfully, they were still there, she observed with relief) and withdrawing them from their leather sheaths. One other female and two males emerged, all three initially similarly disoriented, but quickly recovering enough to make introductions.
The short male with the funny green headscarf seemed even more perplexed than she, especially towards the taller, red haired giant. Instead of simply pummeling the scrawny creature, as most of her kind would have done, he responded eloquently towards the smaller man’s claims. Still, there was something unsettling about him. His sticky sweet tone reminded her of…of…someone. She saw the elder orc’s face, but for the life of her, couldn’t place the name. Her memories were coming in fragments, but they weren’t coming quickly enough to her liking. She scowled around her dainty fangs, her emerald complexion darkening with her mood.
She observed their banter, noticing that the two knew each other, even if it wasn’t a civil relationship. None of the others seemed to recognize the other, and with the exception of these two, the rest seemed to be completely alien. She wondered, though, if any others would appear that would be like her, that she could find some connection to her home. Would the ancestors curse her to live in a world where neither they nor her kind roamed?
“A thousand deaths will never erase what you’ve done in the past, but now is not the time to ponder redemption. We need to figure out who else will be popping up, and where the hell we are. Even more important, we need to figure out if there is a way back.” Garona stepped towards the imposing figure of the red-haired man.
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