Editing Midnight RPG - Chapter 22.411

'''''"Let me tell you young masters, the tale of the times that come about in the city on the lower coast of the Pellurian.  It's a tale telling of the troubled town. <br> <br> The harbor bell rang with grim solemnity in the Stone Docks. The early morning mist swirled inquisitively about the last of the fishing boats heading for the open sea. A group of burly men stood in glowering silence on the pier, awaiting the arrival of the Carrion Wind out of Highwall. The creaking of ropes and rhythmic slapping of water on timber were the first signs of its approach, followed shortly by the appearance of the hulking black mass of the three-masted troop carrier. As the ship passed the seawall, the men on the docks erupted into a flurry of activity, preparing to bring the ship into berth. At the seawall, the cloud of gulls that had been following the ship wheeled suddenly and dispersed into the mist-shrouded horizon. Their strange behavior served only to highlight the absence of birds on the dockside.  <br>  <br> As soon as the laborers tied off the ship, the planks were thrown roughly down and the dark shapes crowding the gangway resolved themselves into the brutish forms of orcs clad in black chain and carrying the large jagged blades of their kind. With a roar, the towering beasts charged down the boards and onto the quayside, snarling and howling at the terrified onlookers. There was a hollow ring to this fearsome bluster, and as the orcs moved swiftly away from the water’s edge, several cast nervous glances at it and the creaking vessel that had carried them for a week across the wide Pelluria. Following after his troops, a much larger member of the species stopped in the gangway, sneering at the sprawling human city rising above him. There was no trace of fear in the oruk’s manner, but his temper was as foul as his troops’. When a young lad stumbled under the weight of his load, dropping a crate that promptly fell into the water and sunk quickly from sight, the commander found an object on which to vent his irritation. The sickening sound of metal parting flesh and shattering bone reverberated around the dock. Silence rushed into the frozen tableau that followed, but the oruk merely grinned at the grim-faced humans and spat on his victim’s body."''''' <br>  <br> ''Move on, ya laggards, before I start givin’ you some!''  '''''The oruk bellowed to his orcs as he kicked the headless corpse into the water lapping at the quayside.'''''  <br>  <br> '''''"Legate Idis sipped from a gem-encrusted chalice wrought of gold. The fine wine was a piquant accompaniment to the screams of the oruk dangling in chains before him. This last had been particularly shrill and drawn out; the cold smile of the mistress of mercies told him that the show had at last come to an end. Idis was impressed with his endurance. The savage had survived a week under the mistress’s tender ministrations. Ah! Fine wine and such sweet entertainment, he thought. Of course, he hadn’t needed to torture the oruk; the populace would have been appeased by a simple execution. But then, one must take one’s pleasures as one can."'''''  <br>  <br> ''Orf, take this…''  <br> '''''Idis idly waved his hand towards the mass of raw, bleeding flesh that had been Commander Turrz,'''''  <br> ''...thing away. Hang it from the Weirhold Gate. Let his carcass serve as warning to the others that the status quo will not be threatened.''  <br> '''''Yawning, the legate left the subterranean room, his black robes dragging in the pooling blood upon the floor, leaving a glistening streak in his wake.'''''