Yes, you're getting a bit off track. The clouds are of little help either - the dreadfully ancient visage of Auntie Mildred begins to menace darkly, occurring to you from the look of one of the far clouds. Never a good sign, you know from experience. The gnomes may live. For now! Until you get more information as to methods of combating their evil and their potential drinkability! And probably after you kill some orcs! You run back through the woods, retracing your steps home, where you regroup and consider your next move. From the sound of it, the orcs over yon ridge have moved along a bit.
You briefly consider getting out of your Sunday best, given that you do not have a plan as such here. However, after weighing the alternatives, you must admit that slaying orcs in style is much more preferable to such pedestrian things as sensibility and practicality, and immediately charge over yon ridge to see where the shakedown squad has gone - they're not pestering Farmer Mackey anymore, you notice, given that he's gone back inside his little hovel. And neither do they appear to have taken any interest in Gentleman John Tully's so-called farm right next to it. You look further, putting a hand to your forehead to block out the sun's glare.
Aha! There they are, giving old Farmer Agatha their very best impression of formidable villainy. Five of them! Excellent! You start running toward them, Herbert giving off a plaintive meow as he wonders when he'll be fed. Soon, Herbert. Soon indeed!
Grabbing Herbert to speed his conveyance, you sprint toward them. One of them turns to look, then taps his companions, who seem perplexed as to why Farmer Godwinson of all people would be practicing his 100-yard dash at this time of day. As such, they are rather surprised when, in a fit of inspiration, you loose Herbert on them, motivating his flailing feline flight with a mighty "huzzah!", which you informed him beforehand to be the code word. The nearest orc does an excellent job of catching Herbert with her face, and before her surprised yelp can even be muffled by your cat's face-hugging underbelly, you have done an equally fine job of burying one of your cosmetic daggers into another orc's face to the hilt - the wonders of a well-executed charge!
As the other orcs go for their weapons, you deploy the hammer and chisel, throwing each at a different orc, yelling at them to have at thee like the unmitigated scoundrels that they are. The chisel bonks the leader in the face sharply, while the hammer embeds meatily into the skull of the orc next to him. They really ought to wear helmets, you think. Otherwise they're making it too easy on you.
In any case, you draw your trusty pitchfork and impale the orc that Herbert was distracting from behind, then swing him at the remaining two, among them the leader. It doesn't hit, but you feel like you're getting some sort of message across anyway. You elect to tell them that orcs are, in your opinion, best utilized as fertilizer. The orc on your pitchfork screams and gurgles (translating for you in whatever pagan language these orcs speak, you immediately conclude) as Herbert dislodges from her face, not eager to get blood splattered on his lovely fur.
The two remaining orcs look suitably intimidated! Intimidated enough, certainly, that they find the prospect of turning their back on you extremely unappealing as they begin to back away quickly. You smell the air. The heady scent of murdered orc goes right to your head as you look around with a blissful grin on your face. Farmer Agatha's still standing there, half-swooning from your sudden display. Why, Farmer Godwinson, she's never known you to show such...
initiative!
You inhale the aromas of violence. They tell you what needs to be done here.
[ ] These orcs are not about to kill themselves! Hop to it this instant! Be polite, be efficient!
[ ] Strike a pose, and murder the two remaining orcs with an impressive flourish without so much as moving from your spot!
[ ] Ask Agatha how she's doing in a neighborly fashion while you helpfully eradicate her orc problem!
[ ] Stare soulfully and wordlessly into Agatha's eyes as you end the two remaining orcs!
[ ] Demonstrate your well-honed farmer's physique as you utilize nothing but your bare hands to squeeze the life out of the orcs!
[ ] An even better idea on what would be an advisable way to go about the righteous execution of these two orcs in front of you!
Farmer Godwinson
- Body count: 6
- Orc-On-A-Fork
- Sunday best (not entirely bloodstained!)
- Two sharp daggers
- Four cosmetic daggers
- Two spears
- Authentic orcish war axe
- Wood axe
- Mahalee's Cure-All x3
- Saw
- Handful of chicken feed
- Shovel
- A pack of salt
- A flask of oil
- 23 copper pieces of uncertain origin
- Orcish leather travelin' boots x6
Herbert
- Complete lack of empathy
- Severe lack of initiative
Farmer Godwinson is what one would describe as a natural at his current occupation. As such, it is often not a question of whether he can kill an orc, but rather more of how many can he kill at a time and whether that is enough to secure an advantage!
Author
Topic: [SG] Realizations of Agriculture (Read 4719 times)