Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
[Out of the Frying Pan] The Story of Ratchis (Concluded 10/28)
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Ratchis" data-source="post: 910454" data-attributes="member: 5004"><p>Over the next two years, we survived on our wit and skill, but there needed to be a better solution. Too many warriors began to talk openly of how we had become vermin living off the back of the gnolls. For myself, I felt more and more like a sleep walker, hating the tribe for being my prison but performing my tasks by rote, thinking it was the only world I could fit into. After much wrangling and two duels, the decision was reached to head south once more, and to find better hunting grounds beyond our orc brothers.</p><p></p><p>We avoided gnolls all the way into what was obviously the lands claimed by the other orcs tribes. A few days into the trek, a band of Gutarsh ambushed us, but they had underestimated our numbers and we drove them off, hunting down those who got away. Sights began to look unfamiliar, and the tribe celebrated the coming to the new land with a wild pig I spent an entire day tracking.</p><p></p><p>One night, I happened upon a flat plain that came out of the foothills, and on this plain were over a dozen buildings and it seemed that this was a village of some sort. Sheep grazed on the tall grass in a fenced-in area near the houses. However, I didn’t see sentries or weapon racks or even a smithy. I cursed my stupidity almost immediately, realizing that they could easily be inside any of those buildings. Then, I saw the second human I had ever seen. Obviously a small boy, he was coming out of a small shack no taller than a gnoll, and entering one of the large buildings with smoke billowing from its roof. I headed back to my tribe wondering what to tell them of my discovery. They would surely find this place on their own and then what? The joy of my discovery quickly faded to dread.</p><p></p><p>I did the practical thing and told of my discovery. I did not mention the sheep, and I emphasized the large buildings and how many soldiers could be fir into each. Most of my suggestions regarding the village were laughed at, and my stomach sank further when the chief told me he wanted me to lead him to the village so he could see it himself. The next dawn, I led the chief to the outskirts of the village. He looked at the fields and the flocks and the houses and nodded to himself, a satisfied sneer stretched across his face. </p><p></p><p>When we got back to the tribe, orders were barked. We were going to raid the village that very night. Other scouts were sent out to watch for human armies or militias that might make their way toward our target. When we arrived, I was to stay on top of the ridge and watch out for any who flee or any outside the village who might witness the assault. I almost begged the chief not to do this thing, but self-preservation won out, knowing that my words could not stop what had begun. I have no recollection of how I got back to the village that night.</p><p></p><p>I stood at my post and watched as the houses were ransacked, dozens of villagers were killed, girls and women raped. I thought at that instant my heart would burst, and I would just throw myself down to break on the rocks below. When the village was secured, even our women were brought in to carry away sheep. They took three girls no older than 13 or 14 and another five women back with them. I don’t know what would have become of me if my feigning disgust at the appearance of these human females had not gotten me out of participating in yet another brutality. None of these females had the stamina my mother possessed. They were all dead within a week.</p><p></p><p>I don’t know how I got through the month following the attack. I was despondent the whole time, but unless you didn’t do your job no one in the tribe cared how you felt or what you thought about anything. Somehow I kept doing my job well enough. Considering the huge excess of food and supplies we had, I didn’t have much to do besides make sure a human army was not around to wipe us out. If one had been, I do not know if I would have warned my people anyway. A few weeks later, the chief met with some greasy looking humans and traded many of the sheep away for a few shiny long swords and a couple of chain shirts for himself and his chosen inner circle.</p><p></p><p>We traveled further into the wilds for several months, and just when I began to wash the blood off my guilty hands, we started southward again, toward the soft, white underbelly of the human lands. I was seething; I hated their puny guts. Why did they leave themselves wide open for any to come and tear down all they build? Did they value their lives so little? If they did, why couldn’t I do the same? </p><p></p><p>I knew this was all a distraction from the fact that my tribe was the aggressor, we were the evil that skulks in the night, and I did not want to face that cold, hard fact. </p><p></p><p>The closer we came to the bounty of the south, the more distraught I became. I came upon another human settlement similar in too many ways to the first. There were armed and armored men about, but their defenses were pathetic in comparison to what the tribe could bring to bear. They also had sheep; I knew their fate and shuddered. I shivered so severely that I drew blood from my lip. Without thinking, I ran from that place. I ran and ran until I fell exhausted, and when I finally made it back to the tribe I did not mention what I had seen. A few days later, another scout brought news of the village I had visited. This time I was to go and watch key roads to make sure superior forces did not ambush us. The night before our attack I lay awake, cursing Grumpsch for letting me know the difference between right and wrong.</p><p></p><p>There is not much to tell of my day and evening watching inactive roads, while my mind’s eye saw the events that were taking place miles away over and over again. I thought about my soul on the way back to the tribe. I became convinced that Grumpsch was not the one that would judge me. There had to be a higher authority whose morality was not subjective but rather the true right and wrong. I so longed for an end to my imprisonment. I decided then I would go back to my tribe, look upon their hating faces one last time and throw myself upon my short sword.</p><p></p><p><strong>to be continued. . . </strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ratchis, post: 910454, member: 5004"] Over the next two years, we survived on our wit and skill, but there needed to be a better solution. Too many warriors began to talk openly of how we had become vermin living off the back of the gnolls. For myself, I felt more and more like a sleep walker, hating the tribe for being my prison but performing my tasks by rote, thinking it was the only world I could fit into. After much wrangling and two duels, the decision was reached to head south once more, and to find better hunting grounds beyond our orc brothers. We avoided gnolls all the way into what was obviously the lands claimed by the other orcs tribes. A few days into the trek, a band of Gutarsh ambushed us, but they had underestimated our numbers and we drove them off, hunting down those who got away. Sights began to look unfamiliar, and the tribe celebrated the coming to the new land with a wild pig I spent an entire day tracking. One night, I happened upon a flat plain that came out of the foothills, and on this plain were over a dozen buildings and it seemed that this was a village of some sort. Sheep grazed on the tall grass in a fenced-in area near the houses. However, I didn’t see sentries or weapon racks or even a smithy. I cursed my stupidity almost immediately, realizing that they could easily be inside any of those buildings. Then, I saw the second human I had ever seen. Obviously a small boy, he was coming out of a small shack no taller than a gnoll, and entering one of the large buildings with smoke billowing from its roof. I headed back to my tribe wondering what to tell them of my discovery. They would surely find this place on their own and then what? The joy of my discovery quickly faded to dread. I did the practical thing and told of my discovery. I did not mention the sheep, and I emphasized the large buildings and how many soldiers could be fir into each. Most of my suggestions regarding the village were laughed at, and my stomach sank further when the chief told me he wanted me to lead him to the village so he could see it himself. The next dawn, I led the chief to the outskirts of the village. He looked at the fields and the flocks and the houses and nodded to himself, a satisfied sneer stretched across his face. When we got back to the tribe, orders were barked. We were going to raid the village that very night. Other scouts were sent out to watch for human armies or militias that might make their way toward our target. When we arrived, I was to stay on top of the ridge and watch out for any who flee or any outside the village who might witness the assault. I almost begged the chief not to do this thing, but self-preservation won out, knowing that my words could not stop what had begun. I have no recollection of how I got back to the village that night. I stood at my post and watched as the houses were ransacked, dozens of villagers were killed, girls and women raped. I thought at that instant my heart would burst, and I would just throw myself down to break on the rocks below. When the village was secured, even our women were brought in to carry away sheep. They took three girls no older than 13 or 14 and another five women back with them. I don’t know what would have become of me if my feigning disgust at the appearance of these human females had not gotten me out of participating in yet another brutality. None of these females had the stamina my mother possessed. They were all dead within a week. I don’t know how I got through the month following the attack. I was despondent the whole time, but unless you didn’t do your job no one in the tribe cared how you felt or what you thought about anything. Somehow I kept doing my job well enough. Considering the huge excess of food and supplies we had, I didn’t have much to do besides make sure a human army was not around to wipe us out. If one had been, I do not know if I would have warned my people anyway. A few weeks later, the chief met with some greasy looking humans and traded many of the sheep away for a few shiny long swords and a couple of chain shirts for himself and his chosen inner circle. We traveled further into the wilds for several months, and just when I began to wash the blood off my guilty hands, we started southward again, toward the soft, white underbelly of the human lands. I was seething; I hated their puny guts. Why did they leave themselves wide open for any to come and tear down all they build? Did they value their lives so little? If they did, why couldn’t I do the same? I knew this was all a distraction from the fact that my tribe was the aggressor, we were the evil that skulks in the night, and I did not want to face that cold, hard fact. The closer we came to the bounty of the south, the more distraught I became. I came upon another human settlement similar in too many ways to the first. There were armed and armored men about, but their defenses were pathetic in comparison to what the tribe could bring to bear. They also had sheep; I knew their fate and shuddered. I shivered so severely that I drew blood from my lip. Without thinking, I ran from that place. I ran and ran until I fell exhausted, and when I finally made it back to the tribe I did not mention what I had seen. A few days later, another scout brought news of the village I had visited. This time I was to go and watch key roads to make sure superior forces did not ambush us. The night before our attack I lay awake, cursing Grumpsch for letting me know the difference between right and wrong. There is not much to tell of my day and evening watching inactive roads, while my mind’s eye saw the events that were taking place miles away over and over again. I thought about my soul on the way back to the tribe. I became convinced that Grumpsch was not the one that would judge me. There had to be a higher authority whose morality was not subjective but rather the true right and wrong. I so longed for an end to my imprisonment. I decided then I would go back to my tribe, look upon their hating faces one last time and throw myself upon my short sword. [b]to be continued. . . [/b] [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
[Out of the Frying Pan] The Story of Ratchis (Concluded 10/28)
Top