Black Sun trudged along the road dragging an enormous crate behind him. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but he had somehow managed to get himself talked into going on an errand for his chef, Gordon, who purchased a large amount of wine from some monks in Yew.
Getting to Yew was simple enough, the trouble was getting the wine back to the house. The crate they had packed the wine in was nearly as tall as a man, and 3 times as wide. Too wide to get it to pass through a moongate, and far too heavy to hold while using any form of magical transport. So, on foot, across the continent he headed towards the house.
It wasn't long before he needed a rest, Black Sun sat down in the shade of the box and began to ponder his situation. He thought about dispatching a message bird to call on the help of his friend Alex. If he could bring his pet dragon, they could tie the crate it's back and let the dragon carry it. No, no, that wouldn't work. He didn't have a bird in his pocket, besides knowing Alex he was probably out crawling around some swamp wrestling with toads or some nonsense. He was always out on some foolish errand. He wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, which probably explains why he became a tamer anyway.
Black Sun began thumping his head against the crate trying to knock his brain into action. That's when it hit him. Not an idea, a bottle. One of the bottles of wine had fallen through a hole in the crate and directly onto his head. Right after that the idea hit. He'd just have to lighten his load! Black Sun popped the cork on the bottle and began drinking. 3 bottles later he was back on the road with renewed purpose. He even felt giddy enough to sing a little song, much to the distaste of any nearby wildlife.
Roughly 13 bottles of wine, 4 hours, and 9 rest stops later Black Sun was nearly home. He decided to take a shortcut through the forest to speed his journey. All the hard work and wine had his stomach growling, and the sooner her got home the sooner he could stuff his face. Just then he smelled something delicious. He stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air. He closed his eyes and began wandering through the brush following his nose. It wasn't long before he heard the crackling and popping of a fire, he opened his eyes to see a large pot hung above a fire pit, full to the brim with a brownish colored soup. Looking around he couldn't see anyone who looked as though they might be the owner of the mysterious pot. But not wanting it to go to waste he grabbed a spoon from next to the fire and dug in. A fully belly and a few more bottles of wine later the pot was half empty and Black Sun was laying under a tree fighting to stay awake. That's when he heard the voices. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were getting closer.
His drunken brain told him to take the fastest route out of the small camp. For some reason he decided that was up the nearest tree. Just as he reached the top of the tree half a dozen naked orc's walked into the camp. They were all dripping wet and not a single one of them smelled like any other orc Black Sun had ever encountered. They were... clean! They must have been bathing in the nearby river. The largest one of them walked over to the fire and looked into the soup pot.
"Hey, where did go our laundry water?" he asked the others, pulling a leathery loin cloth out of the pot.
"It not matter. Skins clean, wear hides and we hunt dinner." said the one Black Sun assumed was the leader.
Clinging to the branch Black Sun watched as each orc took a loin cloth from the pot and tied it about their waist. It took a minute before he realized what he was watching. The orcs had been doing their laundry while they bathed in the river. So that soup was... Black Sun's stomach protested, his face began to turn green. His hands flew up to cover his mouth before he got sick. With his hands clamped over his mouth he lost his hold on the tree and dropped like a stone. As he fell he slammed into every branch along the way, until he was near the bottom. At that point fate decided to take pity on him and one of the branches snagged his pants. Black Sun was jerked to a sudden halt, his pants tangled around a branch, he found himself hanging upside down with no pants, covered in a mixture of blood, vomit, tree sap and leaves with a stunned group of orcs looking at him.
"Hail friends. Could I trouble you for a bit of help?" he asked trying to manage a grin. The orcs all looked at one another before they converged on him. Black Sun covered his eyes and hoped for the best. Next thing he knew the world had gone dark and hazy and he was standing on the ground watching some poor man hanging from a tree being beat by a group of club wielding orcs. A feeling of relief overwhelmed him as he turned his back to the sight and began to walk away. In his path lay a fire with a large pot hanging above it.
"OooOOoOoooO... Look! Soup!" he said.
This thread needs more death!
