Hoity1

Hoity Procures a Human Toe

Hoity spies the Teguk of Dol Guldur coming toward her as she bends over an unguarded pot, about to pluck a fingerbone from its murky depths. She jerks her hand away from it and appears to be admiring the pot studiously.

Jobobungka comes to a halt in front of Hoity and the pot. Looking down he peers into the pot before the orc, "What be that in the pot, uruk?"

Hoity frowns and squints at the Teguk, wringing her slimy mouth up into a hopeful smile. "Maybe a Tark toe is in this pot, which I would like to have." She jangles the little leather thong around her wrist, from which hangs a half-rotten Uruk toe.

Jobobungka cocks his head slightly, "A toe? Bah, have it. But bring me a bowl of the good stuff. I hunger" With this he turns about and moves towards a log to sit down upon.

Hoity closes her eyes tightly as she dips her finger up to the elbow in the bubbling broth, fishing desperately around for something she saw on the surface just a moment ago. Finally, when her face is rolling with sweat and her teeth seem clenched to the breaking point, she withdraws her arm and pulls out a human toe. As she begins to look for a knife with which to hollow out a hole in the bone, she remembers the Teguk's request, and picks up a clay pot, filling it with stew. As she hands it smugly to the Teguk, she says, "There you are master. Many toes in there for you as well."

Jobobungka looks into the offered pot then takes it in one hand. With the other he reaches into the pouch at his side and with draws a few coins. Tossing them to the ground by the orc he states, "This is for bringing it hot. If it would have been cold I would have had your toes."

Hoity stuffs the coins into an inner recess of her terrible little loincloth and grins vapidly, wiggling her toes. Then she turns away, turns back, salutes with the wrong arm, turns back again, and starts snooting around the campfires, looking for a knife with which to poke a hole in her new prize, so she can add it to her bracelet.

Jobobungka finishes up his pot then sets it down. Raising his hand he wipes at his mouth then gets to his feet. Letting out a loud belch he slowly staggers towards the edge of the camp.

Famlin Gets In Trouble For Punishing Hoity and Darkswathe

Famlin walks out of her tent, a look of grim determination plastered across her hidden features as she walks towards the Teguk Jobungka, her hands clenched tightly at her sides and her eyes burning angrily. She follows after the uruk-hai and speaks up before he passes the edge of the encampment. "Master Teguk," she snarls loudly, so as to be heard by the Hai. "You wished to meet with me?" she asks pulling her hood back in respect and looking up at the larger Uruk.

Jobobungka turns at the sound of the shaman. As his dark eyes fall upon the orc he raises a meety finger and with a cold low voice, "You! Yes I have words with you. What is this that you, a throw back, tossed out shaman, has taken to orderin about orcs?"

Hoity finds a tiny sharp cook's knife lying on top of a pile of innards, and bends in a crouch over her work, hollowing out a little hole in the toe bone. She bites her lip and snarls as the knife slips around in her hands, poking her in the leg. Looking back at the sound of Famlin's voice, she grasps the rope attached to the collar around her neck, and pulls it down in front of her, hiding it between her torso and her tucked up legs.

Famlin looks up at the Teguk, her eyes cold and unemotional. "Outcast I am not, master Teguk," she says contradictorially, her voice kept at a low level, obviously with some degree of difficulty. "But the actions of my brothers and sisters is not what is being discussed at the moment, you wish to know why I was ordering Uruk's around?" she asks, her fingers clenching and unclenching in her sleeves. She takes several steps to the side adnd bends down to retrieve a length of strong grass rope, which she presents to the Teguk with open hands. "I saw and heard of the lack of such supplies whilst I was studying Master, and as most officers of the army were out hunting the hated Tarks, I decided that the sleeping snaga's perhaps could be used for something better than soaking i the suns rays." she looks up at Jobungka and drop s the rope. "That is when I did order the uruks," she says, attempting to calm herself before the larger Orc.

Jobobungka looks down at the rope then swipes a mighty hand to knock it aside. Stepping forward his eyes bore into the shaman, "You have no authority. Especially that of chaining orcs together. We are at war here. With cloth meddling around with matters that they have no knowledge of, they can quickly ruin the work of many."

Famlin looks at the Teguk and snarls softly. "Ahhh...the two 'snagas' who I saw fit to punish." she mutters her eyes still upon the large uruk. "I interupted a fight where weapons had been drawn," she says, her eyes narrowing. "The two snagas at the core of the fight were ones I had been aware of at the middle of another such discord." she states, her hands beginning to clench again. "I chained them togehter so as to make them learn to live with themselves with the implicit instructions that they were not to remove the collars or rope, and not to allow anyone else, who was not of greater rank than I. This of course, master Teguk, would exclude you, as it would any other officer of the eye." she growls softly.

Hoity unties her leather loop, pokes the tiny rope through the hole she's created in the toe bone, and ties it back up around her wrist, so that two toes now hang there -- one Uruk half rotten and decayed, one human half-cooked and still greasy. With a meditative glance at the angered Teguk, and behind the Shamaness' back, she grabs the rope attached to the collar around her neck, and pretends to be pulling herself around by it, mocking a slave and master simultaneously with gruesome facial expressions. Though she's careful to be quiet, her antics are sending the snaga around the cook fires into waves of suppressed tittering and snorting.

Jobobungka raises his finger to poke at the orc before him, "That is the thing. You have no rank! You are no longer protected by your brethern, you live in disgrace. The cloth you wear now means nothing to me. The chaining of two orcs together is not productive, and I will not allow anyone, and I mean anyone to let things slow or hamper my army."

Darkswathe Tries to Make Friends

Darkswathe nods down at Hoity, smiling. He says in a quiet, unnoticable voice, strange for a creature of his size, "Sorry tobe mean to you before? Sorry to hurt you and stuff. You want to be friends?" He holds out a giant clawed hand, but with his otehr hand continues to cut meat off, grabbing sticks, and shoving the meat quickly down it, then holding it over the crackling fire.

Hoity looks at Darkswathe incredulously, as if he is speaking in a foreign language. "Friends? You take your hand, put it in the fire here while I count seventeen. Then we will be "friends." If not, you stay clear."

Darkswathe grins at Hoity, nodding, still speaking in a low unnoticable voice. He pretends to be putting the meat over the fire, and does this with his other hand, but puts the empty hand into the crackling, bursting, yellow/red flames. It appears not to effect him through his tough skin, though he winces slightly, when it starts to hurt.

Hoity begins to count, slowly and sonorously, but when she reaches twelve her voice breaks... "Twelve... Twelve... Now let me think what come after twelve! I cannot think what it is! Can it be seventeen? No no... Twelve... Twelve..." Her voice trails off and she eyes Darkswathe wickedly between her squinty eyelids. Finally she throws up her hands and says, "I cannot count seventeen! What are you thinking?" Then she almost falls over from laughing and snorting.

Darkswathe continues to smile dumbly, chuckling at Hoity's joke against him, though he doesn't know it is against him. "Err well....." he says slowly. "I think...." His voice trails off then starts up again. "I will count.......errr.......13.....14" he continues going on like this, counting slowly, until he reaches 17, the pain not showing on his face.

Hoity shakes her head and rolls her eyes, turning back to the carving up of fallen Uruk. She peers down at an arm she is butchering, and notices a silver ring with a black stone in it, shoved way too tightly onto this Uruk's finger. The finger itself is puffed and bloated, as if it had been deprived of blood by this ring which was probably made for a human. Hoity begins to struggle, grunting audibly, to remove the ring, and finally just chops the finger off, letting the ring fall into her hand.

Darkswathe continues smiling, leaving his hand in the fire for about 20 more seconds, until smoke is pouring from it, and one finger is on fire. He quickly blows it out, and continues doing his work. After a while of chopping, and slicing, and cooking, he looks at Hoity, whispering, "You be friends with Darkswathe now?"

Hoity smiles with sickening and gruesome sweetness and says, "Oohhhh yes Dark. We be GOOD friends now." Her smirk turns into a leer as she chuckles to herself and rolls her eyes again, trying to sneak the ring into a fold of her loincloth without anyone noticing. "We be such good friends, I will let you do all this meat that I would enjoy to do myself." Hoity waves her arm at the pile of Uruk limbs and nods encouragingly. "See what nice friend I am? Very nice friend!"

Darkswathe smiles at Hoity, almost hugging her, but holding back. He nods vigorously. "Yes.....you are great friend!" He grabs a knife, and works at a double-pace, whistling happily, and singing. "What else you want me to do, freind Hoity?" He is quite happy that Hoity is his friend, though he doesn't know that she isn't really.

Hoity Gets in Trouble With Morbardak

Darkswathe watches Hoity move away, then understands that she was being sarcastic. A slight snarl is heard, and an angry, threatening, curl-lipped expression crosses his face. He decides to have a little sarcasm himself, and turns to the Orc who has slapped him for giving him valuables. He booms, extremely loud, easily loud enough for Morbardak to hear, "Oh, that is a nice ring that you got from the body of that Uruk." he watches, as he catches sight of Hoity holding it, and then says, "I saw you take it from body! You should ask superiors first, thief!" There is a slience as a few more Orcs pipe up, "YEah, she stole it!" "I saw here too!"

Morbardak's ears perk up at the words of Darkswathe. "What?" he roars and storms towards the snaga. "I hope I misheard, for your sake, snaga? Stealing the ring of the worker of the Shamaness? Is this true?" With a sharp metalic ring, the scimitar gets brought from its sheath, shining in the moonlight.

Hoity puts her hands deep into her loincloth and her face achieves a meditative peacefulness as she searches around in there. Finally she finds what she's looking for and pulls out the ring. Dropping on one knee, she makes a ridiculously clumsy gesture that is probably meant to be graceful, and presents the ring to Morbardak, "For you, Master," she says in studiously reverent tones, "I have place this ring in my cloth to save it for you when you return. I cannot even wear such ring -- see how small? A tiny human thing, and disgust me. Take it."

A few other snaga pipe up, "She wasn't saving it......why would she sneak it then? We saw her, the gleamed at sight of the diamond!"

Darkswathe looks from Hoity to Mordardak, and visa-versa, his face neutral, not betraying any emotion. he nods, backing up the words of the nearby shouting snaga.

Hoity points to the ring, "These Snaga know nothing! It is not diamond, Master. See? The stone is dark. Stupid Snaga lie."

The same voice scream, in high-piteched voices, "Your a snaga yerself! What do you know about diamonds! Your a clumsy fool! A fool!"

Darkswathe stands, awaiting mordbardak idly, though he is still standing to attention, saluting.

Morbardak stands tall, an intimidating sight, and shouts, "For me? You try to make me appear to steal from the Shamaness? I think not? I care not what kind of stone is locked in the gold. I ordered that nothing from the bodies shall be taken. This goes beyond mere theft, this goes against orders. For that, you shall lose a finger at the least, your ring finger. This is unless the Shamaness, from which you stole, grants you leave. If she does this, you shall keep your finger, but shall have the name 'Thief' tattooed upon each of your hands."

Hoity whimpers, "But I must remove the ring, Master. I cannot put the ring on the spit! This will make Uruks choke and die if the ring is left on the meat."

Grazzt wanders closer to the shouting, at the mention of a ring he appears slightly interested, he approaches closer, the now orc arm bone in one hand, he tosses it aside, "what ring be this? I wish to see ring" he looks around at the snaga close by wondering who has the ring

Hoity rises from her deferent position and reaches up as high as she can toward the troll's hand to give him the ring.

Darkswathe continues to stand in this way, at attention, watching everyone interact. He speaks up, but is careful not to disturb Morbardak. "MAster, is there anything I can do for you master?"

Grazzt bends down using two clawed fingers to grasp the ring he looks at it for a moment bringing it close to his eye before growling and closing his hand into a fist, "This ring be useless" he says he releases his grip a crushed and mangled hunk of metal falling to the ground.

Hoity kicks the hunk of metal into the fire and adjusts some of the meat on the spit.

Morbardak looks up to Grazzt and says, "No, sir. It was useless." With a hated glance, he looks down to the snaga Hoity with a look of evil. Looking back up to the Olog-hai and says "Can I do anything for you, master?"

Grazzt glances down around him at both the snaga as they ask questions, he looks slightly grumpy as he he grunts over at Morbardak his eyes narrowing slightly, "what you do snaga? how can you help the warlord?" he then looks over as Famlin kneels before him, "I not give out weapons, you see other snaga, snaga who in charge of garrisons"

Hoity moves on to the next spit down, away from the conversation, and then nonchalantly moves to stir a pot a bit further away, and then becomes very involved in earnestly building up a fire under a third spit.

Morbardak says, "No, sir, I guess cannot." He turns away and looks for Hoity. He spots here starting a fire several yards away. He strides confidently towards her. "Snaga, you have not escaped punishment.""

Hoity Gets in Trouble With Muzkgash

Hoity , seeing the Dog and Teguk otherwise engaged, sidles over to the treeline and begins to jab her arrow into the bushes at various intervals, making mad faces and cackling silently each time she pretends to hit a target. "That for the Tark," she says under her breath, "That for the other Tark." Her back is turned to the camp as she pursues this mindless little game, but it seems to entertain her immensely.

<Ragnarok trains Muzkgash on Spear>

Hoity 's arrow clinks on something in the bushes. She crawls in to inspect it, retreating from view, and can be heard digging around in there, possibly chipping at something with the arrow, possibly knocking her own teeth out one by one. The brush shakes with her efforts, and little grunts emerge from it.

<Ragnarok trains Muzkgash on Spear>

Hoity emerges from the bush dragging a large rock. Its lower half is covered with dirt, and its upper half is oddly shaped, sort of like a beetle with a head but no legs. It has some marks around its midsection which look like someone with an arrow in her hand might have dug it out of the ground. As Hoity pulls it, backwards, out of the brush, she stumbles a bit, and falls onto her butt, then glances around proudly, enchanted with this find.

<Ragnarok trains Muzkgash on Spear>

<OOC> Famlin sighs and shakes her head...a ROCK?
<OOC> You say, "Hoity likes rocks."
<OOC> Famlin glues some eyeballs on it and gives it back to Hoity.
<OOC> Hoity names it "Alan the Rock" and keeps it forever.
<OOC> SharLan says, "First Ugh and his sticks...now Hoity and Alan."

Ragakmog glances about and not noticing Hoity says to Muzkgash, "Aye but you lost yer charge. Where be yer crafty lil she thief? back in the bushes I supposes lazin away. Keep yer thumb on that one! I'll not have her lazzy example poisoning our lot and I'll hold oyu personaly resonsible fer her! Now git!"

Muzkgash salutes Ragakmog, uttering, "Yes master." He moves away from the Tek'rak, and over to Hoity. The Uruk's huge figure casts a long, dark shadow over the area Hoity is sitting at, and Muzkgash taps the small slave on the shoulder. His spear hangs loosely by his side, after he attached it to the strap around his wwaist. His shield he holds in his other hand. The expression on his face is one of sheer malice, and it grows even more so, as he barks to Hoity, "You! Lazy skai! Get up now!"

Hoity gives one more possessive pat to her most excellent rock, and stands at attention grudgingly, with one foot still on the rock. Her weak arms an legs flop to something like a brisk salute, and she says, "Yes Master Muskox"

Muzkgash snarls at Hoity again, shaking his head furiosuly. "No no and no!" He barks. "You call that a a salute? I want to see a proper one! Now!" He smiles, but his face is red with anger. His hand tense up around the shaft of his epar, and he raises his shield a little higher. The uge figure looks around quickly, as if expecting a tark to jump out at any minute, before locking his gaze back on Hoity.

Hoity stands now fully erect, her big eyes all tragic and dejected, and pushes herself up so that both feet are now on the rock, and she teeters there, unsteadily, fully six inches taller than she was when standing on the ground.

Muzkgash spits angrily, gritting his teeth. He almost shouts, "YOU PATHETIC SNAGA! GET OFF THAT ROCK.....NOW!" His face looks almost purple, as he stands there, seething with rage before the pathetic slave. He shudders at mere sight of the lowly creature shaking his head madly.

Hoity Gets In Trouble With Famlin

Famlin steps out of her ruined tent, her eyes flaming and her hands clenching a huge yew bow to which a long, black arrow is knocked. She runs out and confronts a group of snaga's who sit by a fire, exchanging stories of contrived heroism and eating meat, green mold falling to the ground as they shove the pieces in their mouths. "WHO has been in the tent of the Shadow Voice!" she roars, her hood flying backwards off her head, revealing a white face, filled with anger which burns paley behind the ebony tattoo's scrawled across her features. Her eyes bulge out of their sockets manically as she looks around the clearing. Snagas, looking at the enraged form of the preistess begin trembling, speechless, and some of the more brighter run screaming into the darkness of the camp of tents. Famlin's gaze searches around the encampment, her eyes searching for familiar figures, the bow string still held tense within her hand.

Hoity steps off the rock and stands so that it is directly in front of it, and since her eyes fall down away from the angry Dog, it almost appears that she is saluting the rock. She cannot seem to lift her chin to face his gaze, or stop her raggedy knees from knocking together.

The huge Uruk's whole body tnses up, and he screams with fury, "LOOK AT ME YOU WORTHLESS SLAVE! AND STOP THOSE KNEES FROM KNOCKING!" He has to restrain himself from attacking her with the spear, gritting his teeth. He steps back, then forward again. He shoots a thick, strong hand out, and grabs the different parts of Hoity's body, as if she is a Doll, moving them around into an attention position. He moves her head up o face him, and puts her legs together so they aren't knocking, and barks, his eyes almost popping out of his head, "Now stay that way, skai!"

Famlin looks up at the dog Muzkgash and trains her bow on him, from the ground it is obvious she won't shoot him, but from where the dog stands..."Dog! Answer me now! Who has entered the tent of the ShadowVoice other than me since the departure of the inquisitor?" she roars into the stillness of the camp, her voice surging with anger, matching her face as she glares up at the dog.

Muzkgash spins around slowly, his face still irate, but not as much as before. He relaxes slightly, dropping his hand from his spear. He doesn't think an arrow would do much harm to him, as he still has 3 in him from battle. More blood oozes to the ground, as he speaks. "Master, I only just arrived from my besieged outpost, after fighting off a group of ambushing tarks. I fear that I wasn't around here when the Inquistor you speak off departed." He turns and gestures to Hoity, "Perhaps she was."

Hoity begins to untie a knot in her loincloth, fumbling with it for a minute and then producing a glob of metal. It is about the size of a grape, has no apparent shape, and has been blackened by fire to the point that its composition is unrecognizable. She holds it in her fist while she keeps her head down and stands silently glaring at her rock, her only rock, wishing to be in on her back, asleep, in a tent far away. She hears the Dog's answer to the Shamaness' question, and her brow furrows.

Famlin turns to the trembling snaga standing before the dog, her eyes narrow slightly when she sees the collar around Hoity's neck. "You snaga," she snarls, walking up to Hoity. "Who have you seen entering into the tent since Mardahk left this encampment?" she asks, her eyes boreing in to the smaller uruk, her voice sharp and furious as she spits out the words.

Hoity begins to stutter, her eyes wandering crazily from the Shamaness to the Dog and back again, showing the whites which are shot through with red, "I am cooking for the humans, and I take the orc of a hand, and I take this hand from the ring before I put it on the spit. You can choke on ring! It is not for cooking! So also the Larword of Wirkmood comes down, and take the ring from me, and crush it all up in a fire, and said it is not a good ring. But I keep the ring because it is for the Shamaness only to have." Hoity smiles ingratiatingly at the Shamaness, and offers the ring to her in a tiny trembling paw.

Muzkgash swivels his head back to face Famlin. His eyes glow unnatrually as he asks, "My master, I presume you have finished with me?" He raises his eyebrows, staring at Famlin restlessly, as he relaxes even more, releasing his grip on his spear, and lowering his shield slowly.

Famlin looks up at the dog with a snarl. "Depart from my presence maggot," she snarls turning back to the small uruk before her. "I know not what this is that you clench so tightly within thy hand worm," she roars at the snaga. "But if you do not answer me I will set my gutting knife to your wrist and open it that way and see for myself, do you understand." Famlin's hands shake vioently and one suddenly dips beneath her cloak.

Hoity droops miserably, fidgets, pouts, fusses, and shifts her weight about. Then she brightens noticeably, but tries to hide her sudden idea, "Master," she says, "I am telling you this: The snaga Darkswathe is bringing bodies out from the tent of the Shamaness, and he and I am butchering them for the cook. He hands me out this hand of uruk, and on this hand is some shiny ring. So I am remove the ring quick before put the hand into the burn for spitting!" She smiles in satisfaction, as if her obligation to report the truth has been met.

Famlin looks at the snaga, her eyes focusing between the snaga's eyes. "You lie snaga, I can tell this without even stooping to the power of the eye," she snarls, droping her bow and reaching out to hold the small uruk by the neck. "Tell me NOW how you came by this ring, I understand through your words that it was taken from my tent, and that this was after my apprentices were slaughtered." She roars angrily, "I do not care for this trinket," her free hand slapping away the charred hunk of metal. "Tell me who took the scrolls and I shall spare thee," she hisses, pressing her face up close to Hoity's.

Hoity nods eagerly, presenting a fully cooperative visage to the Shamaness. "It is Darkswathe! He take the bodies from the tent to bring them over to the cook for eating." Hoity looks around the camp meditatively, "Now where is that Snaga? He can tell about the rolls I am sure. I did not see any rolls when he brought the things over to the camp." Hoity nods sagely, kicking a little bit with her toe against the rock, clasping her empty hands together and only sending one wandering eye to see what became of the crushed ring.

Ragakmog rubs his ear by lifting his shoulder's hump up ot it. The scratch itched he speaks loudly to get Famlin's attention, "Shamaness, you have been warned. Your powers are removed. Torture this snaga all you like. Make her lifea livign hell. But kill her not or your life is forfiet with hers. That is my decree in this matter. Now carry on and track yer knowledges as ye shall." His voice is calm and even.

SharLan soaks in Ragakmogs words with an intregued face, storing it for future knowledge as he always does.

Famlin looks at Ragakmog in irritation. "This snaga means nothing, but I would not kill her as she is valuable to the eye as I have seen within my dreams she will be powerful," the shamaness mutters, her eyes dancing to SharLan and a smile creeping across her lips as she adresses the dog seer. "These scrolls would interest you I think dog," she snarls eniticingly, they reveal who the ONE is in great detail I believe." She grins and turns back to the snaga and shakes her by the scruff. "Yet someone has taken them, and this snaga is the only witness. So SPEAK snaga, and tell me not of foodstuffs or tell me to consult with the dead," she snaps. "I wish to know who the thief is and I will know this NOW!"

SharLan blinks once...twice at the Shamaness' words. Curious they are indeed, but a nagging doubt gnaws at the back of his mind as to whether she speaks the truth or not. Still, not a muscle flinches in his body, even his pouch is unusually silent today.

Hoity 's broad forehead wrinkles in what appears to be sincere consternation now, as she genuinely thinks hard about the night in question. She pushes her lips out and squints her eyes almost shut, squeezing her face into a mass of wrinkles. "Master," she says, "There was only one other Uruk to tell a story about that night, for Darkswathe and I have only to do with foods and body. I say that Darkswathe was bringing item from the tent over to that Dog over there, who is Morbardak. He was there, he told us to do this thing. Maybe is in his pocket that the scrolls are?" Hoity's face mutates into an accusing grimace, as she glares at Morbardak, and points at him with one scrawny finger.

Ragakmog Nods to Famlin in agreement, 'I acknowledge that a snaga is worthless, and this one may amount to more as yo uahve said, but consider it a test placed afore you to show restraint and earn some respect back fro mthe millitary.' leaning tooSharlan he whispers, "... ... make ... ... ... to see ... ... ... ... she ... ...."

Famlin nods and drops the snaga. "I will follow up on this lead snaga, may it prove beneficial to my search...for your sake." She turns angrily and strides back towards her tent, scooping her bow up as she passes.