Wurzag crawled from the sea on to the sandy beach and lay there gasping for a long time. The swim from the ship had been long and arduous and he was fairly sure that the pirates would miss their aft mast and come looking for him sooner or later. He didn't want to be anywhere near this beach when that happened. The half-orc rolled on to his stomach and immediately wished that he hadn't; his head was still turning somersaults from the chloroform induced sleep and it felt as though he hadn't eaten for a week. The second problem was one that he could easily rectify however, since a chance encounter with some rubbery aquatic life on his journey back to land had left him with a handful of some sort of squishy thing that still had its limbs entangled with his fingers.

Never afraid to try new things, Wurzag stuffed most of the squid into his mouth and chewed gleefully on the elastic meat. The experience was not entirely unpleasant, though the flesh was very salty, fishy and rather springy. With his hunger at least temporarily sated the half-orc got his hands under him and thrust himself upright. Even this simple action caused him some misfortune however as his hand closed around something hard and sharp which cut his palm. He growled in annoyance and wrenched at the offending article which came free from the sand with surprising ease. It was metal, spherical and had a series of blades around its circumference. Wurzag blinked at the object and then grinned stupidly. "Me Fragit!" He exclaimed happily, unconcerned by the whim of fate that had brought it to this beach. He stuffed the object in to his pocket and ambled off toward the tree-line in search of a road back to the city.

A half mile trek later and he stood at the border of a field in which several horses were grazing. A cluster of farmers who had, until moments ago, been deep in conversation turned to regard him with expressions of mixed curiosity and apprehension. Wurzag stared back at them and grinned. "'Ello der," he said with a tired smile, "sorry to come moochin' in like dis all unexpected like, only I needs to borrow an 'orse!"

The group of farmers continued to stare.

"See," Wurzag continued, "I 'ad dis encounter wiv a bunch of pirates out der an I sorta cheesed 'em off a bit by nickin' off wiv der mast." He gave the group an apologetic shrug, "I fink dey is gonna miss it see an I dunt wanna be around when dey turn up, I sorta left da fing floatin in da sea somewhere." He didn't feel that the story of his escape plan was entirely necessary and didn't elaborate further.

"So, uh, yeah, couldn't lend us an 'orse cud yez? I'll give it back?"

The country-folk glanced uneasily at each other.

"Wot?" The half-orc said. He stretched and surreptitiously sniffed at his arm pits in case his jaunt in the ocean had left him with a peculiar odour. As far as he was able to determine he smelled about the same as usual, so he eliminated that possibility. "'Ave I gots squid on me?" He said and brushed absently at his face. As it turned out, he had been wearing a pair of tentacles like a rubbery moustache since his sea-food meal and the effect had made him look like some green-skinned monster of the deep. Once the misunderstanding had been sorted out the farmers were much more cooperative, and after a few coins had changed hands as security for a safe return Wurzag lead one of the horses from the field and down the road.

"Fanks fer dat!" He called to the country folk as he leaped into the saddle, "I'll bring it back once I gots meself sorted out in Lomedor!" The horse promptly reared and tipped him on to the floor with a resounding thump. Already tired and battered and in no mood to play games the half-orc got to his feet, stomped around until he faced the animal and slugged it in the face with a meaty fist. "Behave yeself ye horsey git!" He growled at the creature, "or I might just turn ye into a snack instead."

The animal was clearly spirited, unused to such rough treatment and didn't appreciate being yelled at by some smelly green-skin. There was no way it was going to be ridden all the way to Lomeder and there was no way it was going to let Wurzag get away with hitting it, so the horse took it's revenge. It lashed out with one powerful hoof and laid the half-orc out cold in the middle of the road. Then it snorted in satisfaction and trotted back to its field.

----------------------

"An DAT is 'ow I got dis stoopid scar!" Wurzag grumbled to the apothecary who was examining his head with a quirked eyebrow. "Can yez believe it? After all dat adventure frough da jungle and wiv Hippopotamus an stuff I gets taken out by an 'orse." He shook his head ruefully, "wot duz ye reckon doc?"

The little apothecary finished his assessment and concluded that orcs, even half-orcs were all as thick skulled as each other and that there was no real harm done. Then he turned to his patient with a quizzical expression. "It certainly is an extraordinary tale," the man said with a nod, "but there is still one thing I would like to know."

Wurzag perked up, "Yeah?" He said with a grin, "wots dat?"

"What exactly," the fellow enquired, "HAS Aloric got to do with all of this?"

Wurzag smirked and shook his head.

"You'd never believe me if I told ya."