Never in her wildest dreams had Ruela thought she would see an elf with her very own eyes, but Rathian behold, right before her, an elf!
It was only in tales from monsters far and wide that had traveled through the lowlands that she heard about this mystical race. Although the stories definitely varied, one thing always remained true for each; that elves were immaculate beauties.
However, in the face of the pointy-eared creature before her, it seemed that those stories had been grossly understated. Rather opposite to how rumors, stories, and legends usually worked, with their endless embellishments.
Since elves were those of the enlightened, it was of course no surprise that they didn't meddle with monsters. But seeing one before her now, she had her attention wholly captivated. Unlike Frenn, the knuckle-head that she was, something like this elf wouldn't interest her that much, probably only rousing a slight curiosity.
Her tastes were heavily skewed in the direction of muscles and mass, the odd Chief Bob here a prime example. However, to Ruela, she wouldn't deny her lust for this elf. Snapping out of it, she realized the elf of attention had adopted an odd expression on his sculpted face, her scrutinous stare having been quite intensive.
Without any preamble, Ruela suddenly snapped out of her torpor and redirected her gaze to Bob.
"How much for this one?" She asked excitedly as she pointed to the elf, ready to give up pretty much half her fortune that she had plundered during her reign as chief just to get her hands on this man.
However, in contrast to her expectation of negotiations starting up, the atmosphere turned a whole degree tenser. It was neither Ruela nor Frenn having taking any action that caused this, but the moment Ruela had presented the offer, the faces of the entire band of red-skinned monsters in front of her had suddenly darkened.
In all of their auras, she could feel hostility and anger, which immensely surprised the great orc woman.
Had she done something wrong? She just tried to get one of the slaves off their hands, so why were they acting as such?
Surprising Ruela even further, the chief, Bob, looked hesitantly to the elf. The expression on his face was hard to read, and Ruela was wholly unable to get a grasp of the spiraling situation.
But she did notice that the glance they shared, seemed to say a lot more than a few simple words.
Exactly who was this elf to the chief? She kept wondering, but was brought out of her thoughts when the chief, Bob, took a step forward, adopting a serious expression.
"Not for sale." He plainly stated, but some anger could still be detected hidden in his voice which Ruela readily picked up on.
Had he just been unwilling to part with the slave, or was there something else going on here? Was the only thing the orcess could think about.
Being stuped by the oddness of it all, Ruela failed to see the glint of mischief in the elf's eyes at Bob's terse words.
"-Ahem... well then..." She tried to recover, coughing awkwardly.
Kicking the still completely unfazed Frenn to her side, Ruela pulled her friend out of her lustful musings. It appeared that the chief had found quite the interest in the grey orc. Even to the extent that even the muscular and menacing grey orc was looking a bit taken aback by her heated gaze.
"We've come here to inquire about what exactly your tribe is doing trespassing on our lands?" Ruela finally managed to get out once she regained the poise befitting her station.
Although Ruela didn't have any ill intentions towards this group, rather wanting to forge bridges than to burn them, she couldn't just allow this action of them disregarding her clan's authority by brazenly strolling through her territory without even a smidgeon of decorum.
To a great orc of her status, and succinctly a greenskin clan at the size that her's were, such things as respect and honor were as valuable as life. If not even more so.
Instead of giving a response though, Bob, the chief, surprisingly enough barked a name to the band of greenskins behind him.
"Darkan!" He called out with that deep voice of his.
Scurrying out from the blob of red-skinned bodies, a normal hobgoblin came out. Although he didn't have the same red skin, only sporting a slight crimson tinge to the dark green of his race, he looked to be of high status within this tribe.
Decked out in form-fitting leather and equipment, it looked like, despite his rank as a hob, he was capable in his own right.
But even so, the tier and power disparity wasn't something easily overcome. So when facing the stares of two immensely powerful great orcs and a precession of almost a thousand orcs with their dire wolf mounts, it was natural that the hobgoblin looked apprehensive and fearful, if nothing else.
Ruela and Frenn could only stare on in curiosity at the lone hob. It seemed that the chief wanted this, Darkan, to speak for him and the tribe, which was very unusual in greenskin society. To greenskins, it was strength and honor that spoke the loudest. Damned, be anything else.
Egging the hobgoblin on with a nod of his head, Bob seemed to alleviate the tension in the hob's body and posture as he calmed down.
"Excuse me, my manners seem to have eluded me." Darkan bowed cordially, the fear either gone or well hidden.
"My name is Darkan, the liaison of the Blood Moon Tribe," He introduced himself. "And I will speak on the behalf of my chief."
"Oh?" Ruela exclaimed with curiosity.
This was unusual, to say the least. Not only had she never encountered such an odd situation before, regarding greenskin conduct, but this hobgoblin had also started intriguing her. She had never heard of the word liaison before, but she understood the intent and meaning behind it.
Greenskin etiquette and decorum would seem very brutish to most other of the enlightened races. That being non-monsters. However, as soon as you traveled beyond the tribal and undeveloped greenskin society, moving into the clans and monster society, greenskins became extremely strict on how they conducted themselves.
Honor, dignity, and respect were everything. If a greenskin with a status like Ruela or Frenn started acting out of order, even by just a small margin of the ancient rules set by their ancestors, they would instantly be facing the entire greenskin society's cold shoulder. If not rather 'cold blade'.
There was nothing more shameful and provocative than that to a tried and true greenskin.
It was unfortunate that this Darkan was clearly born a hobgoblin and not an orc, meaning that it would be a miracle even if he achieved great orc in his lifetime. This was especially so since Ruela saw a lot of potential in him; not as a figurehead of the tribe but one who could build connections far and wide.
For a hobgoblin, he looked to be both capable and intelligent, perfect for such a job and rare amongst greenskins.
"So, Darkan. What are you and your tribe doing in our territory?" She asked with a friendly smile and gesturing to the long rolling lowlands with monuments of stone, roads, and lush emerald fields of grassy wetland.
"We must apologize for our transgressions, Chief I'zaak." Darkan apologized with another small bow. "We did not realize the extent of your territory, and I'm afraid that we're both strangers to these lands and the proper etiquette that is expected of us. We're a migrating tribe, you see; from the outskirts of the wastelands."
"I guessed that was the case." Ruela nodded. "Bearing no banner, no forward messengers, not even a signaling horn. It was quite obvious that you were foreigners to the lowlands."
"But the outskirts? How did a tribe, let alone one from the outskirts, not only travel here but also reach the level of strength that you possess? I am no stranger to what it takes to simply travel the mountain ranges or even the beast-infested lands." She asked curiously, a glint of respect starting to form in her eyes.
"I can't say that we came out unscathed," He shook his head sadly. "And the journey did more than take a few of our numbers. But we've emerged stronger than we were when entering. Our tribe has gone through a lot of growth, but we ultimately decided that we couldn't stay on the outskirts as that would inevitably bottleneck the tribe as a whole."
"Indeed, that is typically how it is for migrating tribes from the outer reaches." She grinned with appreciation. "But color me impressed, you've definitely done better than most."
"Many thanks." Darkan smiled with amiability, before pausing awkwardly. "Uh... you mentioned the lowlands - would you mind elaborating?
"Of course," Ruela said. "These lands, and far - far beyond my own territory, are the lowlands. You would mostly only find greenskin roaming these plains as this is a haven for our people."
"Fresh and fertile land, hostile and dangerous beasts keeping to pocketed areas, safe from the invasion of other races." She explained. "The only factor of strife is the other clans competing for land and resources, however, this is strictly under sanctioned greenskin law."
Explaining, Ruela drifted off in her own thoughts, not realizing that her gaze had once again fallen onto the elf casually standing in the back.
Coughing awkwardly, and getting a shit-eating grin from her knowing orc friend, Ruela straightened her back.
"I see..." The hobgoblin muttered with a hand on his chin, lost in thought and not realizing the lapse in concentration from the chieftain as he churned the newly gained information through his head.
Before he could say anything though, Ruela interjected with a suggestion.
"These circumstances are hardly suited for a discussion, how about your tribe join us for a feast and some rest back at my clan?" She offered.
She felt that standing out here in the evening dusk was a waste of time when they could continue their talk with warm food in their bellies and a hot place to sleep afterward.
However, instead of the reaction she wanted, Darkan suddenly got worried and apprehensive at hearing the offer. The slight glance that the liaison threw at the elf before returning a regretful and apologetic smile didn't escape the eyes of Ruela either.
"I must apologize... but I'm afraid we can't. You see... we don't kno-" Darkan tried hesitantly but was suddenly cut off by the outburst of the second chief of the two imposing orc women.
"You dare speak ill of our honor!?" Frenn bellowed with fury in her eyes.
She obviously was referring to the fact of how it seemed that the liaison declined the offer because they did not trust Ruela to uphold friendly courtesy and not betray their trust by doing something like slitting their throats as they slept.
To a true greenskin, even the thought of someone taking advantage of the invitation for hospitality was sacrilege. There wasn't really a bigger insult to a clan as a whole than questioning their integrity and honor.
"N-no - not at all, Chief Ra'zok." The terrified hobgoblin squeaked out under the sudden pressure emitted by the hot-head orc chieftain.
"Frenn - Calm down." Ruela suddenly said with a placating hand on her shoulder.
Shooting Ruela a look of surprise, Frenn failed to understand why her friend didn't even seem the slightest bit offended. And Frenn knew that this wasn't because Ruela was some soft and push-over. Compared to Frenn, how Ruela reacted to people shaming and questioning her honor, she seemed positively cordial herself.
It still gave Frenn shudders when she remembered back to the time when Ruela made a human adventurer eat his own cock, literally by cutting it off with a rusty knife and shoving it down his throat. Simply because he chose to make a mockery of her honor in a trial by combat.
Instantly calming down, Frenn alleviated the pressure that had almost forced the liaison to his knees by now.
"*Sigh* Think about it for a bit before you outburst like that." Ruela scolded. "They have other races in their group, not to mention humans. How do you think the clans are going to react if we suddenly bring them in without proof of strength and name? They don't know the culture, never having traveled beyond the tribal greenskins; we honestly can't fault them for this slight seeing as no intent to dishonor had been in their hearts."
Deflating like a balloon, Frenn suddenly felt like a major-league moron, something she thought to herself happened all too often. Once again, if it wasn't for Ruela, Frenn wouldn't know what to do with herself honestly. The only thing she knew how to do, and do damn well at, was crushing skulls and severing limbs.
"I'm very sorry Chief Ra'zok, but I truly meant no disrespect, nor dishonor. We have already rested, and as Chief I'zaak mentioned, we currently have multiple different races with us, and I'm afraid it might cause some unnecessary trouble." Darkan shook his head apologetically.
"I understand, and I acted without thought. You have my apologies." Frenn offered.
Both surprised and satisfied at the mature way her bone-head of a friend handled her words all of a sudden, Ruela nodded appreciatively.
"Then, another time, "Ruela smiled. "Clan I'zaak will be hospitable to your tribe if you ever wish to share a mug of grog, and I hope that we could maybe one day forge a strong bond between our forces."
"That goes for clan Ra'zok as well. We will welcome you all." The powerful orcess, Frenn, interjected happily just before pausing and then looking directly at Bob.
"Especially you... ∼chief∼" She cooed salaciously at Bob, who suddenly shivered involuntarily.
Everybody wasn't completely sure if the reaction was from apprehension - or desire at the offer, but the chief quickly returned to his calm demeanor before anyone could consider it further.
Never in her wildest dreams had Ruela thought she would see an elf with her very own eyes, but Rathian behold, right before her, an elf!
It was only in tales from monsters far and wide that had traveled through the lowlands that she heard about this mystical race. Although the stories definitely varied, one thing always remained true for each; that elves were immaculate beauties.
However, in the face of the pointy-eared creature before her, it seemed that those stories had been grossly understated. Rather opposite to how rumors, stories, and legends usually worked, with their endless embellishments.
Since elves were those of the enlightened, it was of course no surprise that they didn't meddle with monsters. But seeing one before her now, she had her attention wholly captivated. Unlike Frenn, the knuckle-head that she was, something like this elf wouldn't interest her that much, probably only rousing a slight curiosity.
Her tastes were heavily skewed in the direction of muscles and mass, the odd Chief Bob here a prime example. However, to Ruela, she wouldn't deny her lust for this elf. Snapping out of it, she realized the elf of attention had adopted an odd expression on his sculpted face, her scrutinous stare having been quite intensive.
Without any preamble, Ruela suddenly snapped out of her torpor and redirected her gaze to Bob.
"How much for this one?" She asked excitedly as she pointed to the elf, ready to give up pretty much half her fortune that she had plundered during her reign as chief just to get her hands on this man.
However, in contrast to her expectation of negotiations starting up, the atmosphere turned a whole degree tenser. It was neither Ruela nor Frenn having taking any action that caused this, but the moment Ruela had presented the offer, the faces of the entire band of red-skinned monsters in front of her had suddenly darkened.
In all of their auras, she could feel hostility and anger, which immensely surprised the great orc woman.
Had she done something wrong? She just tried to get one of the slaves off their hands, so why were they acting as such?
Surprising Ruela even further, the chief, Bob, looked hesitantly to the elf. The expression on his face was hard to read, and Ruela was wholly unable to get a grasp of the spiraling situation.
But she did notice that the glance they shared, seemed to say a lot more than a few simple words.
Exactly who was this elf to the chief? She kept wondering, but was brought out of her thoughts when the chief, Bob, took a step forward, adopting a serious expression.
"Not for sale." He plainly stated, but some anger could still be detected hidden in his voice which Ruela readily picked up on.
Had he just been unwilling to part with the slave, or was there something else going on here? Was the only thing the orcess could think about.
Being stuped by the oddness of it all, Ruela failed to see the glint of mischief in the elf's eyes at Bob's terse words.
"-Ahem... well then..." She tried to recover, coughing awkwardly.
Kicking the still completely unfazed Frenn to her side, Ruela pulled her friend out of her lustful musings. It appeared that the chief had found quite the interest in the grey orc. Even to the extent that even the muscular and menacing grey orc was looking a bit taken aback by her heated gaze.
"We've come here to inquire about what exactly your tribe is doing trespassing on our lands?" Ruela finally managed to get out once she regained the poise befitting her station.
Although Ruela didn't have any ill intentions towards this group, rather wanting to forge bridges than to burn them, she couldn't just allow this action of them disregarding her clan's authority by brazenly strolling through her territory without even a smidgeon of decorum.
To a great orc of her status, and succinctly a greenskin clan at the size that her's were, such things as respect and honor were as valuable as life. If not even more so.
Instead of giving a response though, Bob, the chief, surprisingly enough barked a name to the band of greenskins behind him.
"Darkan!" He called out with that deep voice of his.
Scurrying out from the blob of red-skinned bodies, a normal hobgoblin came out. Although he didn't have the same red skin, only sporting a slight crimson tinge to the dark green of his race, he looked to be of high status within this tribe.
Decked out in form-fitting leather and equipment, it looked like, despite his rank as a hob, he was capable in his own right.
But even so, the tier and power disparity wasn't something easily overcome. So when facing the stares of two immensely powerful great orcs and a precession of almost a thousand orcs with their dire wolf mounts, it was natural that the hobgoblin looked apprehensive and fearful, if nothing else.
Ruela and Frenn could only stare on in curiosity at the lone hob. It seemed that the chief wanted this, Darkan, to speak for him and the tribe, which was very unusual in greenskin society. To greenskins, it was strength and honor that spoke the loudest. Damned, be anything else.
Egging the hobgoblin on with a nod of his head, Bob seemed to alleviate the tension in the hob's body and posture as he calmed down.
"Excuse me, my manners seem to have eluded me." Darkan bowed cordially, the fear either gone or well hidden.
"My name is Darkan, the liaison of the Blood Moon Tribe," He introduced himself. "And I will speak on the behalf of my chief."
"Oh?" Ruela exclaimed with curiosity.
This was unusual, to say the least. Not only had she never encountered such an odd situation before, regarding greenskin conduct, but this hobgoblin had also started intriguing her. She had never heard of the word liaison before, but she understood the intent and meaning behind it.
Greenskin etiquette and decorum would seem very brutish to most other of the enlightened races. That being non-monsters. However, as soon as you traveled beyond the tribal and undeveloped greenskin society, moving into the clans and monster society, greenskins became extremely strict on how they conducted themselves.
Honor, dignity, and respect were everything. If a greenskin with a status like Ruela or Frenn started acting out of order, even by just a small margin of the ancient rules set by their ancestors, they would instantly be facing the entire greenskin society's cold shoulder. If not rather 'cold blade'.
There was nothing more shameful and provocative than that to a tried and true greenskin.
It was unfortunate that this Darkan was clearly born a hobgoblin and not an orc, meaning that it would be a miracle even if he achieved great orc in his lifetime. This was especially so since Ruela saw a lot of potential in him; not as a figurehead of the tribe but one who could build connections far and wide.
For a hobgoblin, he looked to be both capable and intelligent, perfect for such a job and rare amongst greenskins.
"So, Darkan. What are you and your tribe doing in our territory?" She asked with a friendly smile and gesturing to the long rolling lowlands with monuments of stone, roads, and lush emerald fields of grassy wetland.
"We must apologize for our transgressions, Chief I'zaak." Darkan apologized with another small bow. "We did not realize the extent of your territory, and I'm afraid that we're both strangers to these lands and the proper etiquette that is expected of us. We're a migrating tribe, you see; from the outskirts of the wastelands."
"I guessed that was the case." Ruela nodded. "Bearing no banner, no forward messengers, not even a signaling horn. It was quite obvious that you were foreigners to the lowlands."
"But the outskirts? How did a tribe, let alone one from the outskirts, not only travel here but also reach the level of strength that you possess? I am no stranger to what it takes to simply travel the mountain ranges or even the beast-infested lands." She asked curiously, a glint of respect starting to form in her eyes.
"I can't say that we came out unscathed," He shook his head sadly. "And the journey did more than take a few of our numbers. But we've emerged stronger than we were when entering. Our tribe has gone through a lot of growth, but we ultimately decided that we couldn't stay on the outskirts as that would inevitably bottleneck the tribe as a whole."
"Indeed, that is typically how it is for migrating tribes from the outer reaches." She grinned with appreciation. "But color me impressed, you've definitely done better than most."
"Many thanks." Darkan smiled with amiability, before pausing awkwardly. "Uh... you mentioned the lowlands - would you mind elaborating?
"Of course," Ruela said. "These lands, and far - far beyond my own territory, are the lowlands. You would mostly only find greenskin roaming these plains as this is a haven for our people."
"Fresh and fertile land, hostile and dangerous beasts keeping to pocketed areas, safe from the invasion of other races." She explained. "The only factor of strife is the other clans competing for land and resources, however, this is strictly under sanctioned greenskin law."
Explaining, Ruela drifted off in her own thoughts, not realizing that her gaze had once again fallen onto the elf casually standing in the back.
Coughing awkwardly, and getting a shit-eating grin from her knowing orc friend, Ruela straightened her back.
"I see..." The hobgoblin muttered with a hand on his chin, lost in thought and not realizing the lapse in concentration from the chieftain as he churned the newly gained information through his head.
Before he could say anything though, Ruela interjected with a suggestion.
"These circumstances are hardly suited for a discussion, how about your tribe join us for a feast and some rest back at my clan?" She offered.
She felt that standing out here in the evening dusk was a waste of time when they could continue their talk with warm food in their bellies and a hot place to sleep afterward.
However, instead of the reaction she wanted, Darkan suddenly got worried and apprehensive at hearing the offer. The slight glance that the liaison threw at the elf before returning a regretful and apologetic smile didn't escape the eyes of Ruela either.
"I must apologize... but I'm afraid we can't. You see... we don't kno-" Darkan tried hesitantly but was suddenly cut off by the outburst of the second chief of the two imposing orc women.
"You dare speak ill of our honor!?" Frenn bellowed with fury in her eyes.
She obviously was referring to the fact of how it seemed that the liaison declined the offer because they did not trust Ruela to uphold friendly courtesy and not betray their trust by doing something like slitting their throats as they slept.
To a true greenskin, even the thought of someone taking advantage of the invitation for hospitality was sacrilege. There wasn't really a bigger insult to a clan as a whole than questioning their integrity and honor.
"N-no - not at all, Chief Ra'zok." The terrified hobgoblin squeaked out under the sudden pressure emitted by the hot-head orc chieftain.
"Frenn - Calm down." Ruela suddenly said with a placating hand on her shoulder.
Shooting Ruela a look of surprise, Frenn failed to understand why her friend didn't even seem the slightest bit offended. And Frenn knew that this wasn't because Ruela was some soft and push-over. Compared to Frenn, how Ruela reacted to people shaming and questioning her honor, she seemed positively cordial herself.
It still gave Frenn shudders when she remembered back to the time when Ruela made a human adventurer eat his own cock, literally by cutting it off with a rusty knife and shoving it down his throat. Simply because he chose to make a mockery of her honor in a trial by combat.
Instantly calming down, Frenn alleviated the pressure that had almost forced the liaison to his knees by now.
"*Sigh* Think about it for a bit before you outburst like that." Ruela scolded. "They have other races in their group, not to mention humans. How do you think the clans are going to react if we suddenly bring them in without proof of strength and name? They don't know the culture, never having traveled beyond the tribal greenskins; we honestly can't fault them for this slight seeing as no intent to dishonor had been in their hearts."
Deflating like a balloon, Frenn suddenly felt like a major-league moron, something she thought to herself happened all too often. Once again, if it wasn't for Ruela, Frenn wouldn't know what to do with herself honestly. The only thing she knew how to do, and do damn well at, was crushing skulls and severing limbs.
"I'm very sorry Chief Ra'zok, but I truly meant no disrespect, nor dishonor. We have already rested, and as Chief I'zaak mentioned, we currently have multiple different races with us, and I'm afraid it might cause some unnecessary trouble." Darkan shook his head apologetically.
"I understand, and I acted without thought. You have my apologies." Frenn offered.
Both surprised and satisfied at the mature way her bone-head of a friend handled her words all of a sudden, Ruela nodded appreciatively.
"Then, another time, "Ruela smiled. "Clan I'zaak will be hospitable to your tribe if you ever wish to share a mug of grog, and I hope that we could maybe one day forge a strong bond between our forces."
"That goes for clan Ra'zok as well. We will welcome you all." The powerful orcess, Frenn, interjected happily just before pausing and then looking directly at Bob.
"Especially you... ∼chief∼" She cooed salaciously at Bob, who suddenly shivered involuntarily.
Everybody wasn't completely sure if the reaction was from apprehension - or desire at the offer, but the chief quickly returned to his calm demeanor before anyone could consider it further.
