Me tell stories.
Dwarven Catapult (http://vnboards.ign.com/message.asp?topic=6569787&replies=20)
In the darkening twilight the assemblage of orcs muttered, jeered, cursed at each other, like a rookery of crows, or the snarling of a pack of wolves. They were dressed in all their orcish finery, that is to say, they had clean rags on under their crusted armor.
A largish black orc walked into the clearing, his chain shirt throwing fitful sparkles under the pale moon.
"Allright all youse snotters shut yer yaps", he growled. This was about as close to a polite greeting as orcs get.
Various snufflings and gruntings were heard, as the mob focused it's limited attention on the speaker.
"You all came to see a demonstration of captured enemy technology. Well after much hard work by our boyz in the forge, we've got it workin like we want."
Several smaller orcs, wearing natty looking caps with bills, and rags stuffed into their belts push a strange wooden contraption into the clearing.
The speaker turns back to the mob, which by now, is growing restless, after such a long speech.
"There she is, da dwarven catapult." Murmers run through the crowd. Orcs delight in weapons and mayhem, but no one in the crowd had the background to understand the workings of the strange contraption. Their reaction was mixed.
"As you see this capstan is tied to the end of the.."
From the back of the crowd a voice yelled "What's it do?"
A chorus of echos and agreement rippled through the crowd, and the mob fell silent, uncomfortable with the feeling.
"Ok, we'll skip the tek boyz stuff and move to the demonstrashun." he said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
He turned to the edge of the clearing and yelled, "Bring out the ammo!"
A line of seven shackled dwarves shuffled forward miserably.
Later, over a round of foul distilate that would rot any other beings innards instantly, (but merely gave the average orc a nice inner glow) the atmosphere was decidedly jovial. Most agreed that it was one of the more spectacular demonstrations in recent memory.
"'ell it wuz better than ol Yargnash's exploding greaseballs!" Yargnash was an orcish chef that sometimes moonlighted as a weapons designer.
"Did you see the little one with the big ears?"
Boisterous laughter.
"Hah! He made it the furthest. Won me an extra gold peice off of him."
One orc, obviously the loser of the bet, said morosely,"It wadn't fair I keep tellin ya. The little bassard was flappin his arms."
Guide to Ork Cookum:
A Guide to Ork Cookum
<with apologies to Juston Wilson, the Cooking Cajun>
By Yargnash da Cook
Oooie! How y'all are? Today we'z gon show you how ta cook da leftovers.
Now y'alls know what's leftovers is right? That's right. It what leftover from when you done playin wit yo food, and before ya eats it. Now I knows some folks likes ta eat dere's raw, but sum 'o' us like da aroma and flavorful tang 'o' charred flesh.
Well now, here's what we gots for y'all today.
<Opens a cell door showing a brace of struggling hobbits, and a sullen looking Dunlandish maid>
Mmm, mmm. Don dey look yummy? Now we'z gon make sumtin real spezial for ya today! Hobbit Surprise!
Wot's dat? It ain't no surprise? Heh boy. It sho nuff is fo dem hobbits!
<Sharpens a cleaver on a grindstone>
Now com 'ere you leetle rascal.
<Snatches up a scampering Hobbit by his toehair, and whacks him on the side of the head with the flat of the cleaver>
When ya's cookin hobbit, yah got's to be real careful, cause dey's full of poisons and such.
<Slices off the hobbit's waistcoat buttons and holds one up>
Now dis 'ere reminds me of a story. Seems dere was dis greedy snotter back to da swamp we'z growed up in. Now he was a lad wif a big mouth. 'ell he could get's almost a whole hog head in there. He wuz foreva struttin about, braggin about 'ows he could eat more, faster'n ennybody else. Well one day he catches 'imself a hobbit. Well we ain't never seen one back then, bein yungins an all. And I sez to him, 'ell Bill, ain't ya gonna skin 'im? And 'ol Billzersash just smiles, and pops that entire hobbit in his mouth! Well we wuz right sore at him, thu greedy bassard, so I hauls off and kicks him in the arse. Well it saved ol' Bills life, cause right about then, he was a turnin Green. And as anyone knows, there ain't no such thing as a Green orc. Lessn he's et somethin that don't agree with him. Or well, somthin that's still argin with him anyway. Seems 'ol Bill had sucked thu waistcoat right offn dat hobbit, and a button got lodged in 'is throat. So when I kicked 'is greedy arse, thu hobbit, the waistcoat, and da button came flyin out.
<Tosses the button aside and whacks the wakened hobbit in the head again>
Da little boogar got away, we wuz laffin so hard at Bill. And dat's 'ow come you 'ere folks talkin 'bout green orcs. Eatin unskinned hobbits will do it every time.
Now, yah see, da best way ta cook 'obbits is roastin. Raw hobbits, well just look at what happen ta ol' Bill. When ya's skinnin da hobbit, take special care … Hold still ya leetle rascal … to gets all da buttons off.
<Whacks the hobbit in the head with the side of the cleaver again>
…………………………….
Well now, hear we are. 2 hours and 15 minutes at 400'F , and this plump leetle rascal is ready for the table.
<Places a roasted hobbit on the table. The apple in his mouth has been glazed with caramel.>
Well now, I'm just gonna pull my chair up to da table heah. Comfy dear?
<Grins at the sullen Dunlandish maid who is trussed in a chair at the table>
Yah know, dis remind me of a story. When I wuz a wee brat, my ol pap usta sit me on his knee, and tell me all kinds of things about da world. Stories 'bout them fruity Elves, and how da Dwarfs wuz made outta rocks, casue d'ere heads is so hard. An he tol me a story 'bout wee leetle folks whut lived in holes in da ground. He sez dey wuz always so hard to catcht, because dey was so sneaky, you could walk right by one, in broad moonlight, and ya wouldn't sees 'im.
Well, one day me ol' Pap, and a some of 'is ladz wuz out lookin for grub, cause they wuz mighty hungry, an hain't had nuttin ta eat fer days. And dey come up on a bunch 'o' hobbit holes. And would'n you know it, the lads sez, "Garn- Ain't no need ta mess wif dese here grubbers. Can't ne'er get 'em outta d'ere holes when theyz in 'em."
Well my ol Pap had him an idea. He goes and picks some 'o' dem mushrooms growin nearby, and he sets 'em out in front 'o' dat hole. Well now, he seyz to hisself. We'll just see how long it takes 'em to smell dat.
And he waits, and waits. My 'ol pap wuz a patient ork. He could sits still for almost 5 minutes at a time, but it only took a second 'er two, and he seen a leetle head poke out o' de hole. So he whops it wif his stick, and puts it in a bag. Then anudder came out, and annuder. Soon enough he had a bag full, and was hollerin back to his ladz to bring him some more sacks.
Well, wouldn yah know it, they wuz out of sacks, and all they had waz a big ol' boot, that some troll spawn had dropped. They had been draggin it back, because they wuz so hungry they were gonna boil da leather and eat it. But dey filled up that troll boot with hobbits. To da brim.
Well wouldn't yah know it, dat 'ol troll came back a lookin fer his boot. And when he sees it he comes over and sez " 'ere now, whatr you fellas doin wit me boot?"
Well 'ol Pap was a smart 'un. He says, are you sure dis is your boot? And da 'ol troll sez yes dat be me boot, it matches da uddern on me udder foot.
Well Pap sez to da troll, I don't believe it's yours, I don't even think it'd fit you. Much too small.
Well da 'ol troll sez it does too fit, and he jammed 'is ol foot in da boot, and let's out a squeak. "dere's somptin in 'ere he yells!"
Well Pap sez, hey wait a minnit, where'd my bag o snakes go? An de 'ol troll lets out a hollar, and slings dat boot off his foot, hollerin "I'm bit, I'm bit! Get it off!" And 'ol pap runs over an clubs da hobbit dat's gnawin on da trolls toe.
Well, dat ol Troll wuz convinced he wuz snakebit, and he wuz a thrashin about and rollin around something feirce. And 'ol pap says Ssssshhhh. Quiet.
And da troll looks at 'im and sez, why, I'm snake bit! What's a matta?
And Pap points at da Row 'o' hobbit holes and sez, once dey get a taste fer ya, they always come back for more.
Well that wuz it fer da troll, he lit out running with one boot on. Pap and his lad dragged dat sack 'o' hobbit, and the one they'd pulled off the troll all the way back to da cook pot.
They et pretty good fer a while, but they never did look in da troll's boot to see what happened to da rest of dem hobbits.
<Takes a big swig of ork Likker and grins>
Well now, y'all join us here again next week. We'z gonna make you up sumptin deelicious. A real treat. Dunlandish Shishkabobs.
<Loud thud as the Dunlandish maid keels over>