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<blockquote data-quote="Dirigible" data-source="post: 2152941" data-attributes="member: 12631"><p><strong>Karita</strong></p><p></p><p>Karita spun on the spot until the chains brought her up with a painful jerk, watching with incredulity as Lokksul pasted himself over the deck and plunged into the icy sea. For a moment, she felt only surprise; but this soon gave way to relief, and her racing heart began to reign itself in. <span style="color: orange">”Drrrink, orrrc,”</span> she spat with no little vehemence.</p><p></p><p>Crouching, trying to reduce her profile as much as possible, Karita craned her neck to survey the deck, feeling the chains bite and chafe at every movement. The sudden stillness was jarring after the raging havoc of the battle mere heartbeats ago; yet it is not complete. A human and an orc stood in acrimonious debate, for some reason not killing each other as the others did. Or should that be, why the others decided <em>to</em> kill each other?</p><p></p><p>Karita did not understand much of what had happened. Why did some things on this... oversized water bowl? (she tried to ignore the lurch her stomach gave as she thought of the seething ocean below)... kill some of the others? Why did some humans tell her stories, while others wielded whips against her skin? Why did some orcs capture her, torment her, while this one was speaking... pleasantly?</p><p></p><p>The beastwoman slapped her palms against the deck and gave a warning growl as the orc approached, flexing non-existent claws into the wood. She glared up at him, holding her ground, more confident than against Lokksul because this one looked weaker. She simply didn’t know what to make of his strange words; was he mocking her imprisonment, saying it was good?</p><p></p><p>No... that word... <span style="color: orange">“Free?”</span> Karita asked stumblingly, rolling to word in her mouth. She had heard it before, somewhere...</p><p></p><p><em>Memories of stories. Of princesses locked in towers, and handsome heroes riding to save them. To... free... them?</em></p><p></p><p><span style="color: orange">“Free?”</span> Karita mewls again, this time plaintively, cautiously holding her hands up towards the orc, and doing her best to look meek and harmless. Her three-toed feet clenched against the deck, however, ready to propel her towards him in a killing fury should he try anything.</p><p></p><p style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="color: slategray"><strong>OOC:</strong> Spot check: 11; can’t hide because of lack of cover.</span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Dirigible, post: 2152941, member: 12631"] [b]Karita[/b] Karita spun on the spot until the chains brought her up with a painful jerk, watching with incredulity as Lokksul pasted himself over the deck and plunged into the icy sea. For a moment, she felt only surprise; but this soon gave way to relief, and her racing heart began to reign itself in. [color=orange]”Drrrink, orrrc,”[/color] she spat with no little vehemence. Crouching, trying to reduce her profile as much as possible, Karita craned her neck to survey the deck, feeling the chains bite and chafe at every movement. The sudden stillness was jarring after the raging havoc of the battle mere heartbeats ago; yet it is not complete. A human and an orc stood in acrimonious debate, for some reason not killing each other as the others did. Or should that be, why the others decided [i]to[/i] kill each other? Karita did not understand much of what had happened. Why did some things on this... oversized water bowl? (she tried to ignore the lurch her stomach gave as she thought of the seething ocean below)... kill some of the others? Why did some humans tell her stories, while others wielded whips against her skin? Why did some orcs capture her, torment her, while this one was speaking... pleasantly? The beastwoman slapped her palms against the deck and gave a warning growl as the orc approached, flexing non-existent claws into the wood. She glared up at him, holding her ground, more confident than against Lokksul because this one looked weaker. She simply didn’t know what to make of his strange words; was he mocking her imprisonment, saying it was good? No... that word... [color=orange]“Free?”[/color] Karita asked stumblingly, rolling to word in her mouth. She had heard it before, somewhere... [i]Memories of stories. Of princesses locked in towers, and handsome heroes riding to save them. To... free... them?[/i] [color=orange]“Free?”[/color] Karita mewls again, this time plaintively, cautiously holding her hands up towards the orc, and doing her best to look meek and harmless. Her three-toed feet clenched against the deck, however, ready to propel her towards him in a killing fury should he try anything. [indent][color=slategray][b]OOC:[/b] Spot check: 11; can’t hide because of lack of cover.[/color][/indent] [/QUOTE]
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