Falkreath: The Stone Orc Settlement

Ying-Na grinned. "Do you need to ask? Besides, I've been meaning to test my Katashiman longbow."

Of course she would agree. She hadn't seen her daughter in years and wasn't about to miss out on an opportunity to see how much her daughter had grown.

"Of course, my dear. You think I would give up a chance to slay ogres? What sort of payment are we getting for this contract?" asks Vaelar in response, raising a brow. He isn't a fan of the Orcs' vaunted honour system, and he isn't a fan of work without pay. He also isn't a fan of being sent to do the bidding of another without knowing why.

Thinking..... seeing.... breathing....

The blind eyes of Shorbolg's lifted slowly upwards, his back raised from his meditation position. The staff, levitating in the air, slowly fell to the ground at rest, his legs folded together still as he sat up a bit more now, still hunched over. His breathing intensified for a moment, eyes glowing green with the knowledge that had been sent to him by his meditation. "And so it shall be...." He whispered out to himself, staring into the abyss his eyes delivered to him, raising his hands up to witness them, surprisingly. But not, this was much, much more different now.

It was as if the world was black, and all that was visible was himself. But his hands... they weren't of green anymore, no. He wasn't the elder Shorbolg. He was something of a different form entirely. Purple skin, with the markings of green that still remain on Shorbolg's body today, though no one can tell as his skin tone matches the marking's shade. However, his hands raised up to his own head, and from there, the vision disappeared. A mighty gasp emitted from Shorbolg, and he slowly raised himself, the staff to his hands to support him.

A hand balled to a fist soon spread open, stretching out to the fires as it intensified, as if waking up to listen to Shorbolg. ".....Bring me the Time Walker...." Were the words he spoke out anciently, standing there as if a statue, waiting for the presence of the said mage once more.

"Time Walker!!!"

"He's returned so soon!!"

"He wishes to see Shorbolg!!! MOVE!!"

A mighty clamor of praise shot from over the walls like a rain of arrows, the trolls pushing the walls away with haste, even some of the orcs were pushing as if it would speed things up. Hobbling out came a nasty looking orc, who appeared to be a mix between a goblin and an orc, raising his hands in praise in a bowl-like shape, chuckling manicly as he looked up with joyous eyes. "Come, come! Do not let anyone stop you, Time Walker!" As Professor Echoes would pass the orc by, he would shout out "May the ground quake as you pass!!" With a small stagger for emphacy as he waved to the mage.

Shorbolg looked to Echoes with a blurred vision, a glaze of his normal eyes seen etched in the stone orbs that replaced them at this time. "Time Walker..." He began, walking forth to shut the door behind them, holding his staff with both hands and leaning against it at the angle once more. "You know why I have called upon you, and what you shall do..."



His eyes searched up to Echoes', staring with a grim question released from his mouth. "...Are you willing to risk the outcome, however?" His left arm dropped to his side, a small, weak fist balled. "It is time my youth is returned, but you shall travel fairly, and you shall not return anywhere but within this hut." He stared for a moment, realizing something. "Then again, you know all of this.." He waited for a response from Professor Echoes.

A sudden hand  clutched to his chest, surprise in his face with an opened mouth. For once, he was in awe. "It was you.... I... I shouldn't be so surprised..." He looked to the shells now, crystal clear in his blurred vision. Holding onto the bowl-like shell with the remaining pieces inside of it, Shorbolg raised his head up to Echoes. As to mentally ask to keep this moment to themselves. "I thank you, again... Time Walker.." He stared for a moment, before turning around and starting towards the fire, his head going over his shoulder to see if Echoes was still there.

The walk was forever....

The Stone Plains became an absence of reality, the land stretching on for more than the miles it possessed. Each step at this point Thorok made was a mighty stance forward, all his weight going from one leg to the other, giving small breaks for each foot to continue, tears dried upon his face in many separate streams as Theev'Nok's body laid rest in his arms. His breathing was heavy, as much as he tried to stop it, and small grunts were emitted randomly, as well as strong sniffs to hold back tears.

The gates were opened the entire time of the Chieftan's departure, the guards frozen either way, staring upon what was coming. To them, it was impossible, Theev'Nok was simply defeated! That was, until, they heard even further an impossibility: The death of Theev'Nok The Brute. Thorok marched forward, staggering up the slanted ways to meet only twenty paces away from the entryway at this point, guards gasping in horror as in both English as well Frok'Nold tongue, chanted out the horrific news.

"THEEV'NOK THE BRUTE HAS FALLEN!!"

The words echoed in Thorok's head, his eyes flexing mightily as he  continued to stomp towards the entryway, his face softening now.

----- Rictofen and Roxanne Fletcher both return to Falkreath-----


The jokes and laughter ensued their travel, Rictofen at much ease with Roxanne at his side, helping her walk the entire way, making sure she was being rejuvenated with kind jokes and a firm support on her the entire way.

That was, of course, until he saw the party. The Chieftan? What was he doi- no... No.

"No...." Was the only term that came from Rictofen's mouth, letting go of Roxanne's arm suddenly as he jogged forward, now emitting a sprint as he leapt over rocks in his path. "Ohhhh no.. .no no no... no NO NO NO!!!" He roared out, tripping as he was only four paces away from meeting Theev'Nok's body, crouching down there in a form of praise, looking up to the resting body of Theev'Nok. "THEEV'NOK!!!" He roared out in dismay, his eyes bulging from their sockets, straining to even tear in the horror that was delivered to his vision, mouth completely open at he watched them march into the walls of the tribe, Rev'Nahn staring with anger and disappointment down to Rictofen. But why?

As they neared the walls even closer, as if they couldn't hear the voices from afar, shrieks and sobs and sounds of mourning were heard from the villagers, as Thorok was now seen carrying Theev'Nok along the center path, dropping down to his knees suddenly with a grunt, laying him down there as he closed Theev'Nok's eyes, shushing him as he mourned a bit, the hammers held on tightly to by Zash'Neck and Rev'Nahn, who stood there in honor of holding his weapons, soon placing them within Theev'Nok's hands at his side, positioning him to a more comfortable rest.

"Summon a pyre...." Thorok commanded, looking to Zash'Neck, who was already sprinting off with help by the time the Chieftan's head fully turned. Rev'Nahn stood there, farthest from the group now, closest to the entryway, dismay, sorrow, anger in his veins, a right hand balled to a fist. Rictofen gathered his strength to continue into the tribe, only to be stopped by Rev'Nahn, who shoved him to a halt there, staring dead into the boy's eyes and saying: "You were supposed to kill him." Those words send chills from the mountains down his spine, eyes dilating even more, horror filling him in every ounce. Thrashnald had slain Theev'Nok...

Rev'Nahn stared to her with a boiling anger, Rictofen gasping in worry now upon what Rev'Nahn might do as he marched towards Roxanne, stopping a good couple feet away from her, arms flexed and fists balled as he stared down to her. "Is this truly how you think of us? As coins to toss your way!? As if we!-" "Rev'Nahn." Coughed out the voice of Zash'Neck, staring intently at him with his own annoyance. Confused, Rev'Nahn stared back to Zash'Neck, anger rising until the response calmed him back into a depressed state.

"Now is the time to mourn, Rev'Nahn... our brother has fallen, should we not pay respect to our beloved?" He questioned, keying at the emotional words until Rev'Nahn sighed out depressingly, marching forward with a lowered head as within reach Zash'Neck would reach his hand up to place on the taller orc's back, leading him to the front of the ceremony.

Slumping down beside Roxanne, Rictofen's hands were placed upon his own head, staring down to the ground with watering eyes. "H-He.. he's dead...." He whispered out to himself once more, disbelief filling his entire mindset.