As per the slang thread - Slang Dialogue? - in general writing discussion, here's the start of that tale.
I'm aiming it to be a rather short piece, perhaps around 25k.
Hopefully the orcs slang/dialect will not be too problematical.
Cheers folks.
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Enough is enough
“Dat’z it. I’z sick of this.” said Dralk from beneath a thick layer of steaming gruel. Sitting up, he grabbed a cloth and began a vigorous rub down. The gruel, an overcooked sludge of mystery meat with the odd accidental root vegetable thrown in, resisted with sticky tenacity.
“Mmmpphhhh,” came a reply from beneath the broken remnants of table.
“Wally, dig out Petal will youz,” ordered Dralk, tossing the cloth away in disgust having only managed to smear the gruel into parts best left undescribed.
“They got thingy,” said Ursul, in her usual gruff throaty tone from the other side of the guard room.
“Who?” asked Dralk.
“Da noob.”
“Which one?”
“Let me check,” said Ursul. Innards hit the floor with a dull splat as a body was turned. While others would have grunted at the effort, no sound came from her. Ursul was well built in all the right places, for a warrior that is, and he crew loved her for it, but never to her face. “Doh know,” she said.
“And da other sod,” said Wally. He was an atypical orc. All mouth, muscles and scars but lumped with very little common sense, even for an orc.
“Other sod?” said Dralk. “
“This arm over here is his. I’z remember da tattoo,” said Wally, tossing the arm off the pile of wood that covered Petal.
Dralk twisted to one side as the bloody limb tumbled hand over stump his way. “Any noobs still breathin’?” called Dralk.
“Yeah,” came a deep and slow voice.
“Big Ed, youz ain’t no noob, nob yeah, but no noob,” said Dralk
“Right,” came the reply. “Forgot, soz.” Big Ed’s body slumped, a complicated motion of stringy muscles and tendons that rippled out in a horrible wave down the goblin’s rangy freakish 6-foot frame, reducing his height by a good foot.
“Noobs?”
Silence.
“Right, so only uz den, as normal. Wally, youz got Petal out?”
“Keep youz ears on,” said Wally, flinging the last few pieces aside. “Der youz go, Petal.”
“Cheers,” said Petal. The shaman, all feathers, bones and other unmentionable bits, shook himself down, held one nostril down and snorted out of the other. Gooey stuff splattered over the floor. “Dat warrior ad it in for me. Did you lot see?”
Nothing unusual there. They’d all tended at some point or another wanted to beat the shaman to a pulp.
“Nah, cause youz pot of gruel hit me instead,” said Dralk.
“I’z saw,” piped up Mogz.
They all looked around.
“Dat fighter ad it in for Petal. Truth,” continued their resident sneak.
They shared a look and a shrug.
“She’s good,” said Wally. “I’z can’t see her.”
“Up ere.”
They looked up. Mogz lay spread-eagled on top of the wooden chandelier. She was the smallest of the crew and the sneakiest. Some of them were convinced she used magic, except for Petal that is but even he tried to keep a close on her just in case.
“How’d you get up there, Mogz?” Petal quizzed, wrinkled eyes narrowed with suspicious curiosity.
“Youz know dat I’z can’t give away sneak secrets. So doh ask, right?”
“Youz finished chuntering? Den get your arse down and see if dem adventurers have gone,” ordered Dralk.
Mogz dropped to the floor, making about as much noise as a mouse doing a tap dance in fluffy slippers and disappeared down the corridor through which the adventurers had gone.
“Rest of youz, huddle up,” called Dralk.
For many orc wodges, the crew boss would have been either the hardest, the best fighter, the strongest, the brains or the sneakiest. Dralk was none of these.
Despite his lanky frame, Big Ed took a lot to knock down. Ursul could beat any of them for sheer strength. Wally could pick up anything and turn it into a deadly weapon. Petal had more brains than any orc should have and Mogz could have been a ghost for all the sound she made.
No, Dralk was the boss for one reason and one reason only. He was lucky. Consider the recent skirmish. Yes, he’d been covered in gruel and yes, he’d slipped over on his backside as a result. Yet, the slip had saved him from becoming a foot shorter as an adventurer’s sword swooped through the space where his neck had been. The fact that the adventurer had snapped his sword whilst repeatedly trying to stab him as he flopped blindly around on his back like some mudfish out of water only reinforced his reputation.
For their part his crew were quite happy to have a lucky leader for the very point that despite repeated attempts to kill them, they were still all here.
Except for the noobs that is. But everyone expected the noobs to die. That was their job.
They gathered round in a circle, heads close together, arms locked over each other’s shoulders.
“Now, I’z not sure what da rest of youz think but I’z fed up with dis rubbish,” began Dralk. “Da pay ain’t worth it.”
“We get paid?” said Petal.
“Yeah,” said Dralk, “I’z looks after your share.”
“Dat’z good,” the shaman replied. “I’z hate to miss out.”
“It ain’t our fault. Dem adventurers are way above our level,” said Wally.
“Not blaming youz,” said Dralk. “I’z can’t think of a betta crew.”
A round of rights greeted this comment.
“Nah, I’z blaming da Agency. Dey’z give uz deze jobs. Dey’z need to get der act together. Too many cushy jobs for doze in da know, youz know?”
A round of knows.
“What youz sayin’? Da Agency hands out all da work. We ain’t got no other choice,” said Ursul.
“Remember dat job last year, da break in and kill all?”
Nods and grins.
“Fun job dat,” added Wally.
“Well, I’z heard some human guards talkin’ about getting away from dere guarding.”
“Dey certainly got away after youz ripped dere heads off,” pointed out Wally with a wicked chuckle.
Dralk responded with a wink. “So I’z thinkin’, we’z could do whut dey said dey’z were going to do and go…” Dralk paused for dramatic effect, “…on holiday.”
“Whut’z a holiday?” said Wally, one finger buried deep in his nose to aid his concentration.
“It’s a place youz go to when youz want to get away from dung-n-stuff.”
“Like da fleshpits?” Said Wally with a lecherous wink knowing wink at Dralk.
“Holiday is meant to have everythin’, so dere betta be fleshpits.”
“Shut youz gob,” said Ursul, poking her head out of the huddle for a quick look see. She ducked back in. “Da Agency wud have our balls if we’z left.”
Wally tittered, saying, “And youz got da biggest out of all of uz eh, Ursul?”
“Youz betta keep youz gob shut, Wally,” came back the warrioress. “Before I’z rip youz off and ram dem down youz throat.”
“Quit it, youz pair,” said Dralk. “It’s been done before. Erik’s crew.”
“Dey’z didn’t last long enough for da Agency to catch up with dem,” said Ursul. “Remember, dey end up giant toe jam.”
Dralk frowned. “Forgot dat. Dey deserved it. Anyway, dat dere fault. Dey picked da wrong route. Never read da map right.”
“Dey couldn’t read, Dralk,” said Petal. “Nor can uz.”
“Not da point,” said Dralk. “We’z just hire uz a clerk.”
“So,” replied Ursul. “We’z hire clerk to read stuff and gets him to pick dis stupid holiday?”
“Nah, he reads da stuff and we’z pick da holiday. Well?”
A round of chewed lips and creased foreheads greeted his question.
“Whut’z da worst dat could happen?”
“We’z all die?” said Ursul.
“We’z just nearly did,” said Dralk, waving his arm around the blood splattered room. “Well, da noobs did. Dere’z bits of dem everywhere.”
“Fair do,” said Ursul. “I’z in.”
“An me,” said Petal.
“Yeah,” said Wally.
They all looked at Big Ed.
“Whut?” said Big Ed.
“Youz in or not, Big Ed?”
“I’z in huddle,” said Big Ed.
“Nah, Big Ed, I’z mean… aw forget it. He’s in,” said Dralk. “Mogz will say yeah. So dat’z decided, we’z going on holiday.”
I'm aiming it to be a rather short piece, perhaps around 25k.
Hopefully the orcs slang/dialect will not be too problematical.
Cheers folks.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enough is enough
“Dat’z it. I’z sick of this.” said Dralk from beneath a thick layer of steaming gruel. Sitting up, he grabbed a cloth and began a vigorous rub down. The gruel, an overcooked sludge of mystery meat with the odd accidental root vegetable thrown in, resisted with sticky tenacity.
“Mmmpphhhh,” came a reply from beneath the broken remnants of table.
“Wally, dig out Petal will youz,” ordered Dralk, tossing the cloth away in disgust having only managed to smear the gruel into parts best left undescribed.
“They got thingy,” said Ursul, in her usual gruff throaty tone from the other side of the guard room.
“Who?” asked Dralk.
“Da noob.”
“Which one?”
“Let me check,” said Ursul. Innards hit the floor with a dull splat as a body was turned. While others would have grunted at the effort, no sound came from her. Ursul was well built in all the right places, for a warrior that is, and he crew loved her for it, but never to her face. “Doh know,” she said.
“And da other sod,” said Wally. He was an atypical orc. All mouth, muscles and scars but lumped with very little common sense, even for an orc.
“Other sod?” said Dralk. “
“This arm over here is his. I’z remember da tattoo,” said Wally, tossing the arm off the pile of wood that covered Petal.
Dralk twisted to one side as the bloody limb tumbled hand over stump his way. “Any noobs still breathin’?” called Dralk.
“Yeah,” came a deep and slow voice.
“Big Ed, youz ain’t no noob, nob yeah, but no noob,” said Dralk
“Right,” came the reply. “Forgot, soz.” Big Ed’s body slumped, a complicated motion of stringy muscles and tendons that rippled out in a horrible wave down the goblin’s rangy freakish 6-foot frame, reducing his height by a good foot.
“Noobs?”
Silence.
“Right, so only uz den, as normal. Wally, youz got Petal out?”
“Keep youz ears on,” said Wally, flinging the last few pieces aside. “Der youz go, Petal.”
“Cheers,” said Petal. The shaman, all feathers, bones and other unmentionable bits, shook himself down, held one nostril down and snorted out of the other. Gooey stuff splattered over the floor. “Dat warrior ad it in for me. Did you lot see?”
Nothing unusual there. They’d all tended at some point or another wanted to beat the shaman to a pulp.
“Nah, cause youz pot of gruel hit me instead,” said Dralk.
“I’z saw,” piped up Mogz.
They all looked around.
“Dat fighter ad it in for Petal. Truth,” continued their resident sneak.
They shared a look and a shrug.
“She’s good,” said Wally. “I’z can’t see her.”
“Up ere.”
They looked up. Mogz lay spread-eagled on top of the wooden chandelier. She was the smallest of the crew and the sneakiest. Some of them were convinced she used magic, except for Petal that is but even he tried to keep a close on her just in case.
“How’d you get up there, Mogz?” Petal quizzed, wrinkled eyes narrowed with suspicious curiosity.
“Youz know dat I’z can’t give away sneak secrets. So doh ask, right?”
“Youz finished chuntering? Den get your arse down and see if dem adventurers have gone,” ordered Dralk.
Mogz dropped to the floor, making about as much noise as a mouse doing a tap dance in fluffy slippers and disappeared down the corridor through which the adventurers had gone.
“Rest of youz, huddle up,” called Dralk.
For many orc wodges, the crew boss would have been either the hardest, the best fighter, the strongest, the brains or the sneakiest. Dralk was none of these.
Despite his lanky frame, Big Ed took a lot to knock down. Ursul could beat any of them for sheer strength. Wally could pick up anything and turn it into a deadly weapon. Petal had more brains than any orc should have and Mogz could have been a ghost for all the sound she made.
No, Dralk was the boss for one reason and one reason only. He was lucky. Consider the recent skirmish. Yes, he’d been covered in gruel and yes, he’d slipped over on his backside as a result. Yet, the slip had saved him from becoming a foot shorter as an adventurer’s sword swooped through the space where his neck had been. The fact that the adventurer had snapped his sword whilst repeatedly trying to stab him as he flopped blindly around on his back like some mudfish out of water only reinforced his reputation.
For their part his crew were quite happy to have a lucky leader for the very point that despite repeated attempts to kill them, they were still all here.
Except for the noobs that is. But everyone expected the noobs to die. That was their job.
They gathered round in a circle, heads close together, arms locked over each other’s shoulders.
“Now, I’z not sure what da rest of youz think but I’z fed up with dis rubbish,” began Dralk. “Da pay ain’t worth it.”
“We get paid?” said Petal.
“Yeah,” said Dralk, “I’z looks after your share.”
“Dat’z good,” the shaman replied. “I’z hate to miss out.”
“It ain’t our fault. Dem adventurers are way above our level,” said Wally.
“Not blaming youz,” said Dralk. “I’z can’t think of a betta crew.”
A round of rights greeted this comment.
“Nah, I’z blaming da Agency. Dey’z give uz deze jobs. Dey’z need to get der act together. Too many cushy jobs for doze in da know, youz know?”
A round of knows.
“What youz sayin’? Da Agency hands out all da work. We ain’t got no other choice,” said Ursul.
“Remember dat job last year, da break in and kill all?”
Nods and grins.
“Fun job dat,” added Wally.
“Well, I’z heard some human guards talkin’ about getting away from dere guarding.”
“Dey certainly got away after youz ripped dere heads off,” pointed out Wally with a wicked chuckle.
Dralk responded with a wink. “So I’z thinkin’, we’z could do whut dey said dey’z were going to do and go…” Dralk paused for dramatic effect, “…on holiday.”
“Whut’z a holiday?” said Wally, one finger buried deep in his nose to aid his concentration.
“It’s a place youz go to when youz want to get away from dung-n-stuff.”
“Like da fleshpits?” Said Wally with a lecherous wink knowing wink at Dralk.
“Holiday is meant to have everythin’, so dere betta be fleshpits.”
“Shut youz gob,” said Ursul, poking her head out of the huddle for a quick look see. She ducked back in. “Da Agency wud have our balls if we’z left.”
Wally tittered, saying, “And youz got da biggest out of all of uz eh, Ursul?”
“Youz betta keep youz gob shut, Wally,” came back the warrioress. “Before I’z rip youz off and ram dem down youz throat.”
“Quit it, youz pair,” said Dralk. “It’s been done before. Erik’s crew.”
“Dey’z didn’t last long enough for da Agency to catch up with dem,” said Ursul. “Remember, dey end up giant toe jam.”
Dralk frowned. “Forgot dat. Dey deserved it. Anyway, dat dere fault. Dey picked da wrong route. Never read da map right.”
“Dey couldn’t read, Dralk,” said Petal. “Nor can uz.”
“Not da point,” said Dralk. “We’z just hire uz a clerk.”
“So,” replied Ursul. “We’z hire clerk to read stuff and gets him to pick dis stupid holiday?”
“Nah, he reads da stuff and we’z pick da holiday. Well?”
A round of chewed lips and creased foreheads greeted his question.
“Whut’z da worst dat could happen?”
“We’z all die?” said Ursul.
“We’z just nearly did,” said Dralk, waving his arm around the blood splattered room. “Well, da noobs did. Dere’z bits of dem everywhere.”
“Fair do,” said Ursul. “I’z in.”
“An me,” said Petal.
“Yeah,” said Wally.
They all looked at Big Ed.
“Whut?” said Big Ed.
“Youz in or not, Big Ed?”
“I’z in huddle,” said Big Ed.
“Nah, Big Ed, I’z mean… aw forget it. He’s in,” said Dralk. “Mogz will say yeah. So dat’z decided, we’z going on holiday.”
I love it! Quite understandable, too. I'd hate it, if they spoke "proper" English!
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