Reinaka leant back over the wooden chair, resting his feet up on the round table. He pressed his lips up against the brim of his tankard, taking in the sweet, cold beer.

”And that was how Prince Morosé rescued his wife, and they lived together for the rest of their days, in peace and harmony.” The man finished, taking a low bow out to the crowd who were watching intently. ”Ha! Pathetic.” The shape shifter spat, spitting out some of his beer on the table. ”My grandmother tells better tales then you, oh mighty story-teller!” Reinaka said sarcastically, taking his feet from the table. The crowd’s eyes were now fixed on the shape shifter, scowls covering their faces.

“And you can tell a better? Don’t make me laugh.” The storyteller remarked in a high-and-mighty way. ”If you would listen; then yes I can. Would you wish it?” Reinaka smirked, looking around at the crowd. They were no longer scowling, but smiling like they wanted to hear his story. ”Fine!” The storyteller called, crossing his arms. Reinaka collected his tankard and climbed onto the tabletop, kicking aside his half-eaten lamb. ”O.K, It begins like this..”

Kash Morgan collected his belongings, his blade, shield and helmet; before heading out to the encampment. “Alright, Alright, Alright!” He yelled, clapping in unison. Immediately the soldiers turned around, saluting their Captain as he approached. “Now. The damned orcs approach even as we speak. We have to muster our forces and prepare for battle! Men, to arms!” the soldiers around him roared with pride, throwing their spears around above them.

“Wait wait wait.. who’s Kash Morgan?” The storyteller asked, stopping the story. Reinaka lifted an eyebrow, as if he had just been asked to do something ridiculous. “You don’t know Kash Morgan? He, he’s a famous warlord. Dead now, of course.” He said hastily, before continuing on with his story.

Night had fallen on the forest; and the men were growing tired. But Kash had told them to stay awake; or they would all surely perish. Two regiments of armed soldiers guarded every side of the encampment; each wielding a horn to warn of attackers. A large bonfire roared and crackled in the center of the camp; an obvious giveaway of the troupes location. Many of the troops were only simple craftsman, blacksmiths and other everyday men. However they would have to take up arms for their Captain and King, or the orcs would break to Lomedor and burn it to the ground.

Kash Morgan felt Uneasy this night; something was, or was going to go wrong. Butterflies rumbled in the Captains stomach; which was usual for most people, but not for Kash. As he suited up for battle, Kash was interrupted by one of his most trusted soldiers, Gerl.

“Gerl, what are you doin’ here?” Kash questioned, raising an eyebrow at his acquaintance, as he continued to pull on his mail chest guard.

“Sir, the East-side patrol have detected a small band of orcs and trolls, heading this way.” Gerl replied, saluting Kash while he spoke.

“Do we have enough warriors to battle them?” Kash questioned, fitting the mail over his chest.

“Of course.”

“Good, then suit them up ‘nd send them out!” He pointed towards the entrance to his tent, obviously commanding the warrior to leave. He still felt uneasy, more so now, that he knew they were coming. Usually orcs would not scare him; they were usually just another enemy worth slaying. But ever since Gorzugg had taken control of the Orc tribes, he felt uneasy.. almost scared.

Collecting his spear he left the tent, breathing in the fresh air of the outdoors. Kash looked around his camp, everything seemed calm and quiet. A chilling silence filled the camp, besides the noise of the bonfire crackling. At that moment Gerl came back, followed by a small group of armed soldiers.

“All’s that I could muster.” He said hastily, tapping his foot on the damp ground.

“That?! Gr.. fine. I will join you in a few moments.” With those ten words Gerl and his regiment headed East, ready to engage the orcs. Kash was not lying, and would be there to aid his men in a few minutes time. But first he needed to make some quick preparations. Collecting up a group of spare soldiers he headed back to his tent.

“Right, guard ‘dis tent. It has secrets even you couldn’t think of.”

“YES SIR!”

Kash swooped his body around then, his cloak following in a heroic fashion. He made his way past sleeping soldiers, tents and even miniature fires, until he reached two large watchtowers made of rock, wood and bamboo.

“He’s here!” Gerl roared, turning around and waving at the captain.

Kash Morgan quickly drew the blade he called Rauenuné from its scabbard, swinging it down upon a nearby orc. The orc screamed as the blade met its neck, severing it clean off. The body flailed over to the left, spraying blood over the Captains face and chest. Kash simply spat on the body of the fallen orc, before hastily dodging an incoming spear blow.

Gerl threw a wide-shot at an Orc with his spear, splaying wildly down the back of its head and into its hard bone. Dark blood oozed from the wound, covering the tip of the spear. Gerl ripped the silver weapon from the orc; parrying off another orc as he moved back. Not many of the orcs were left; it seemed like a small band of raiders; unless this was a trap of a kind.

“Wait, wait.. So that means.. nevermind.” A bard said, interrupting the story. “Oh for god sake.. shoosh up!”

With a free hand Gerl scooped up some dirt, sending It into a near orcs eyes. The beast flailed back against a tree, before meeting the tip of Gerls spear. “You-“ It spoke, and that was all. The first orc raiding party were now dead; a pile of corpses now formed in front of the camps watchtower. Kash could make out the silhouettes of more orcs in the far corner of his eye; but they were running scared. He could do nothing more than let out a smile and chuckle.

“Sir, the bodies?” Gerl asked, ending the temporary silence.

“Burn them, show the orcs not to do that a second time.” The captain ordered, without looking at his soldier.

“Right, good choice sir.” And with that, Gerl disappeared into the darkness of the night, following his orders.

Blood drenched the captains clothes, making him smell of rot and decay. Heading back to the camp he watched Gerl and his soldiers collect the bodies, throwing them back into the bonfire. Kash Morgan subsided back in his small tent, guarded by some of his men. Settling down in his chair he poured himself a hot water, encasing his lips over the tankard and gulping it down as quick as possible.

Only ten minutes later he heard the horns of the orcs; battle-crys alike. Gerl once again bypassed the guards and entered the tent, nurturing a wound on his left wrist.

“Sir, the orcs have breached the east side, they bring war machines, warg riders and footsoldiers! Me ‘nd my men were outnumbered, I barely escaped.. What do we do?”

“Well, naturally I would say battle.. But .. what the hell.. Prepare the main army for battle!” Kash replied, for a moment he was thinking of retreating. But he was a strong captain, and would not retreat now. Kash emerged from the tent, a smirk covering his face. He knew he would have to elude the orcs for as long as possible, or at least long enough to figure out a tactic.

“Wait, wait. So the orcs raided this, camp? And where was the camp?” The bard asked, stopping the story. “Yes, t’was the orcs who raided. And I am sure the camp was somewhere outside Lomedor, in the forests.. anyway..”

“Wait! Does he die?” A woman asked, stopping him again. “You’ll have to listen then.” Reinaka replied, coughing a few times. “Wait!”

“What lady?” Reinaka replied lazily, these people had grown annoying. “Just tell us! Tell us!” These people were obviously impatient; Reinaka could stand it no longer. “OK FINE. He dies, killed by an orc.. happy?” The crowd all stared in amazement; as if he had just said he was pregnant or something.

“But hes a mighty warrior!” The story-teller called.

“Oh shutup!” With that, Reinaka jumped down from the table, slurped down the remaining ale and walked from the inn, slamming the door hard behind him. The people all shouted and cursed; telling him to come back and finish his tale. “Fine..” Reinaka walked back into the pub, then sat down on a wooden stool near the bar. The crowd watched him as he ordered another ale; then, he continued his story, as they were so intent on hearing what happens.

“Well then, now…”

The sound of crashing porcelain filled the shapeshifters ears, stopping him from continuing his story. The door to the bar flew open, revealing the silhouette of two large figures.

“What the..”


(OOC: 400 Words Minimum, I have used 1506.)