Having recently evaded an orcish intruder in his home, Otto loaded up his backpack with potions and bandages, and paid a visit to the small room that held his soulstones.
Deftly running his fingers over the runes that read "healing", "anatomy" and "alchemy", with a brief stop at "hiding" and "stealth", he wondered why he had never invested in one for "running like a lunatic with all the hordes of the abyss on your tail".
Regardless, he mounted his faithful seeing-eye beetle, and set forth in search of the orcs. Perhaps he could reason with them? After all, he'd been ...well, not quite friends. Tolerated, perhaps, by the orcs of old. Even the younger ones who hung around Mo'gluk had shown enough respect to not bash his brains in on sight. Perhaps he could find out what irked these orcs, and maybe even negotiate with them.
The first orc he found sounded as if it was relieving itself in the bushes. It was most decidedly not pleased to be interrupted by a human, even one who could not see what it was doing. It attacked. There was an almighty howl as Otto's beetle's pincers reminded the orc why it is a good idea to always return your studded loincloth to the right position after a visit to the bushes, and Otto took that as an opportunity to wheel the beetle around, and attempt to flee.
The orc followed, at an amazing pace. Over hills, through towns - the guards were useless - across bridges, through moongates, in and out of buildings, through teleporter tiles - this orc was relentless!
Finally, as his beetle was frothing at the mandibles from the effort, Otto came to the magical gateway to the hidden lands, where Papua and Delucca nestle.
Screaming the words of passage, he arrived, in a mage's hut, expecting to have to keep going - but the orc did not follow. Perhaps it did not know the words? Perhaps the magic keeping the town hidden had also hidden Otto?
In any case, Otto was not looking a gift kraken in the tentacles, so he took his severely winded beetle to the stables, to recover, and flopped down in a chair at the nearest tavern.
"Orcish ale, sir? Best in the land!"
Otto would not be leaving a tip.
