dmac188
04-30-2013, 11:25 PM
MB 500K
A skull-clasped thrakhide belt
Loresong:
As you sing to the belt, you become aware of an incredibly unmelodic grunting sound, accompanied by the rhythmic banging of metal striking rock. Suddenly, both grunting and banging pause, and you hear an incredible belch that lasts almost five seconds. You can almost smell the rotting odor of the huge burp. After a thoughtful pause, the banging and grunting begin again, and your mind's eye fills with the image of a hulking ogre banging away with a crude iron hammer at a length of thrak hide stretched across a rock, grunting in time with the backswings of his hammer. He halts, unwraps the thrak hide, and bends it experimentally between his greasy paws. Satisfied with its suppleness, the ogre sets about crushing a metal buckle around one end of the thrak hide to create a crude metal belt. You glimpse a gore-stained goblin skull sitting to the side before the image fades.
As the belt vibrates in response to your voice, you smell smoke, and you hear a crackling sound accompanied by a series of loud grunts and bellows. Your mind fills with the image of a colossal ogre standing before row upon row of hobgoblins, orcs, and ogres, all lit by a huge orange bonfire. The strings of teeth and claws around the huge ogre shaman's neck bounce and jitter as the shaman grunts and waves his arms, and the speech is punctuated periodically by a chorus of howling and bellowing from the appreciative audience.
Suddenly, the crowd falls reverently silent as the ogre shaman beckons to one of the ogres in the crowd. The ogre comes forward carrying a crude thrak hide belt in his hands, and he offers it respectfully to the shaman. The shaman holds the belt up so that everyone can see, then fastens it about his own pudgy middle. An absolute cacophony of grunts and howls of approval rises from the audience, and the ogre is all tusky smiles as the ogre shaman removes the belt and returns it to him. The ogre fastens the belt around his own middle and adjusts the skull clasp before going to sit down.
Another ogre gets up when beckoned, and presents his own belt, which is similarly donned and removed by the shaman to a chorus of approving howls. As a third ogre rises, a minor scuffle breaks out in the back between two bored hobgoblins, and the vision fades from your mind.
Your song draws the image of a forested mountain pass into your mind. The trees are sanguine and golden with autumn's colors, but the ugly brown color of a restlessly shifting hobgoblin can be seen behind several of the trunks, and ogres and orcs are crouched in anticipation behind great boulders. A sparkle of light comes through the trees, and the assembled humanoids fall silent as they lean forward in anticipation -- for the sparkle comes from light reflecting off the armor of a human warrior. As more and more ranks human troops come into view, the attention of the ogres turns to a fang-necklaced figure standing beside a great oak -- the ogre shaman. The colossal ogre shaman watches closely, judging the approach of the troops, before he suddenly warbles a huge war cry and waves his staff overhead.
Orcs, ogres, and hobgoblins explode from the woods like wasps exploding from a rock-struck wasp nest, and within seconds the battle is raging fiercely.
Singing to the belt returns your mind's eye to the fierce battle in the mountain pass. The human army is quite outnumbered, but the human forces are more skilled, and they fight with strict discipline. Human and humanoid corpses alike litter the ground, and the fallen leaves swim in scarlet at the points where the battle rages most fiercely. Every time the monstrous troops seem ready to fall back, the huge ogre shaman gives a wild, ululating war cry, and the ogres, orcs, and hobgoblins charge back into the fray with renewed vigor. Several ogres spread throughout the battle always echo the shaman's cry of encouragement, lifting it to the farthest edges of the battle so that all the troops may hear, and each of these ogres wears a skull-clasped thrak hide belt riding around his middle.
Realizing the situation, a plume-helmeted human knight lifts a horn to his lips and blows a clarion sequence of rising notes. Several soldiers form a tight wedge around the knight and listen to his shouted orders before fanning out to focus upon the belted ogres. Faced with two or more skilled human opponents apiece pursuing them individually, the belted ogres break and run, and the humanoid forces fall into shambles as the orcs, hobgoblins, and unmarked ogres follow the belted ogres' lead. The shaman shouts desperately to regain order, but his efforts are futile, and the plume-helmeted knight penetrates through the wall of defenders surrounding him to neatly remove the shaman's ugly head with a single swing of his waraxe.
Almost all of the belted ogres are killed just like their leader, though most of the other troops succeed in escaping. The last thing you see before the vision fades is the entrails of a disemboweled dead ogre spilling across a thrak hide belt just like the belt you hold in your hand.
A skull-clasped thrakhide belt
Loresong:
As you sing to the belt, you become aware of an incredibly unmelodic grunting sound, accompanied by the rhythmic banging of metal striking rock. Suddenly, both grunting and banging pause, and you hear an incredible belch that lasts almost five seconds. You can almost smell the rotting odor of the huge burp. After a thoughtful pause, the banging and grunting begin again, and your mind's eye fills with the image of a hulking ogre banging away with a crude iron hammer at a length of thrak hide stretched across a rock, grunting in time with the backswings of his hammer. He halts, unwraps the thrak hide, and bends it experimentally between his greasy paws. Satisfied with its suppleness, the ogre sets about crushing a metal buckle around one end of the thrak hide to create a crude metal belt. You glimpse a gore-stained goblin skull sitting to the side before the image fades.
As the belt vibrates in response to your voice, you smell smoke, and you hear a crackling sound accompanied by a series of loud grunts and bellows. Your mind fills with the image of a colossal ogre standing before row upon row of hobgoblins, orcs, and ogres, all lit by a huge orange bonfire. The strings of teeth and claws around the huge ogre shaman's neck bounce and jitter as the shaman grunts and waves his arms, and the speech is punctuated periodically by a chorus of howling and bellowing from the appreciative audience.
Suddenly, the crowd falls reverently silent as the ogre shaman beckons to one of the ogres in the crowd. The ogre comes forward carrying a crude thrak hide belt in his hands, and he offers it respectfully to the shaman. The shaman holds the belt up so that everyone can see, then fastens it about his own pudgy middle. An absolute cacophony of grunts and howls of approval rises from the audience, and the ogre is all tusky smiles as the ogre shaman removes the belt and returns it to him. The ogre fastens the belt around his own middle and adjusts the skull clasp before going to sit down.
Another ogre gets up when beckoned, and presents his own belt, which is similarly donned and removed by the shaman to a chorus of approving howls. As a third ogre rises, a minor scuffle breaks out in the back between two bored hobgoblins, and the vision fades from your mind.
Your song draws the image of a forested mountain pass into your mind. The trees are sanguine and golden with autumn's colors, but the ugly brown color of a restlessly shifting hobgoblin can be seen behind several of the trunks, and ogres and orcs are crouched in anticipation behind great boulders. A sparkle of light comes through the trees, and the assembled humanoids fall silent as they lean forward in anticipation -- for the sparkle comes from light reflecting off the armor of a human warrior. As more and more ranks human troops come into view, the attention of the ogres turns to a fang-necklaced figure standing beside a great oak -- the ogre shaman. The colossal ogre shaman watches closely, judging the approach of the troops, before he suddenly warbles a huge war cry and waves his staff overhead.
Orcs, ogres, and hobgoblins explode from the woods like wasps exploding from a rock-struck wasp nest, and within seconds the battle is raging fiercely.
Singing to the belt returns your mind's eye to the fierce battle in the mountain pass. The human army is quite outnumbered, but the human forces are more skilled, and they fight with strict discipline. Human and humanoid corpses alike litter the ground, and the fallen leaves swim in scarlet at the points where the battle rages most fiercely. Every time the monstrous troops seem ready to fall back, the huge ogre shaman gives a wild, ululating war cry, and the ogres, orcs, and hobgoblins charge back into the fray with renewed vigor. Several ogres spread throughout the battle always echo the shaman's cry of encouragement, lifting it to the farthest edges of the battle so that all the troops may hear, and each of these ogres wears a skull-clasped thrak hide belt riding around his middle.
Realizing the situation, a plume-helmeted human knight lifts a horn to his lips and blows a clarion sequence of rising notes. Several soldiers form a tight wedge around the knight and listen to his shouted orders before fanning out to focus upon the belted ogres. Faced with two or more skilled human opponents apiece pursuing them individually, the belted ogres break and run, and the humanoid forces fall into shambles as the orcs, hobgoblins, and unmarked ogres follow the belted ogres' lead. The shaman shouts desperately to regain order, but his efforts are futile, and the plume-helmeted knight penetrates through the wall of defenders surrounding him to neatly remove the shaman's ugly head with a single swing of his waraxe.
Almost all of the belted ogres are killed just like their leader, though most of the other troops succeed in escaping. The last thing you see before the vision fades is the entrails of a disemboweled dead ogre spilling across a thrak hide belt just like the belt you hold in your hand.