RP:No Trophy for Lauria

Cliff

Orikahn lays about 15 feet up the cliff on an alarmingly narrow ledge, cozy beneath his hide cloak. How did he get up there? How is he *comfortable?* Quell our doubts, good traveler, for the massive sabercat is content as can be, snoozing with eyes half-lidded as he watches the path below. Drowsy though he may seem, the lazy cat's eyes burn with a seething interest, glowing hungrily out from the shadow his hood. His right arm dangles, and he twirls an arrow in his fingers, spinning it one way, then the other, and back again, ticking away the moments that make up a dull day. Apparently, he's hereto fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.

Largakh tracked a wild panther, one that was wreaking havoc in the towns and villages. Having lain a path of fear from Sage to this very cliff. Soft footfalls from an unusual orc, he was lithe and quiet for an orc, but aside from his yellow eyes green skin and his height he barely looks the part. More peculiar was this orc was wielding a bow an arrow. Tuscan eyes narrow on the target at hand, a panther seething at the mouth and rather feral. Drawback on the bowstring and he holds his breath before the arrow shoots true, putting an end to the diseased animal and thus also putting it out of its misery. A few seconds pass before the six foot seven orc comes out from behind a bush and makes his way over to the once majestic animal, but to further the oddity that is Larz, he closed the panther’s eyes, pulled free the arrow and placed a tangerine near the body. This was an old elven custom, paying tribute to the goddess Lauria…. Quiet occupies the air now and it seems Larz is in some sort of prayer.

Orikahn spots the tail end of this harrowing encounter. His whiskers perk with interest, especially when Largakh makes such quick work of such a dangerous animal. What a clean shot! And what's this? When the silence falls, Orikahn's eyes initially widen in confusion and curiosity, but the obvious reality soon dawns on him. A man of faith, is he? Ears perked, Orikahn steadies himself on the cliff wall and pushes to his feet. "You there, hunter." The massive feline's voice is a deep, rich bass that easily covers the space between them. "To whom are you praying?"

Largakh heard when the feline pushed himself to his feet and intelligent yellow eyes look up and from Orikahn’s angle he can now see the soft leather jacket the half-orc wears with the patch on the left chest pocket which sets him aside in Gualon as a city guard. He’s trekked out of his territory and through Kelay to put down a rabid animal - was he even on duty? For a moment he’s concerned he just offended the feline as he just put down his kin. The surprise dwindles in his eyes - he’s caught so there is no use to try the dumb orc act on this guy, “Lauria… It was not this creatures choice to be put down this way so it should go back to nature.” He’s not one to hunt unnecessarily and this was not something he took pride in this day and he wipes the blood off his arrow on an old boar pelt after inspecting it, for the arrow smelled of the disease the majestic beast carried. He stands back up with the panther draped over his forearms, “now to bury it so no other beings get sick.” His harsh orc tone is slightly different from most and the moderate intelligence level may be offsetting to most.

Orikahn straightens out his outfit and belongings, making sure his own bow isn't going to fall off his person when he hops down, and hop down he does, taking ample, leisurely time to dangle from the ledge and drop to his feet. "Lauria? Hm." Orikahn hops on one foot toward Largakh, knocking the dust from his legs with hasty swats. As he comes closer, the half-orc can see the feline is mostly dressed in furs, arctic wolfskins if he knows them, and keeps a pretty busy kit: knife, tomahawk, medicine bag, wineskin, quiver, bow... skulls? That's right, a whole garland of humanoid sculls rattle proudly at his hip, all cleaned and strung with care. "Right, you bury it, but you take a trophy for Lauria first, don't you?"

Largakh was looking slightly up at Orikahn as Larz is quite a few inches shorter than the feline, “usually I give my trophy of pelts and bones to the orphanage in Gualon. So they have blankets, clothes... toys?” A shrug, “but not today. Hunting this creature was not something I took pride in and I have this superstition to not use anything from a diseased kill - bad luck… And as you can assume, I’ve already got plenty of that,” being a half-rc raised in Sage was tumultuous enough, but at least the ones that raised him taught of Lauria. He starts to walk to a more grassy area so he may begin to dig a grave, “I mean, if you want to make use of this creature, by all means, but it’s just not something I would recommend. I had put down many animals already that got their disease from this very being and a few children who were attacked by the diseased fell ill.” It was now his gaze drifted from one detail to the other on the large feline while he got to his knees and started to dig into the earth in between using his twin axes to cut large chunks out of the ground for speedy work of this.

Oriakhn doesn't offer to help and instead sets his knuckles on his hips, watching idly by as Largakh digs. "Of course, it's spoiled then. Too bad, too bad." He eyes the mighty, fallen panther over. "Quite a takedown," Orikahn remarks. He clears his throat, raises his brows, "you know," he turns one palm up, then closes his fingers to point up at a distant mountaintop, "I do a bit of hunting myself. Were there more of these, out uhm, in, uhm." The cat swishes his bushy tail and scratches his whiskers. "Where do you come from, again?"

Largakh doesn’t mind the lack of help - he’s used to it actually and once he digs deep enough he tests it out. Up to his thigh should be good enough and he gently places the creature in the grave, “thanks.” He starts to push the dirt back over the hole now with the dead animal when Orikahn seems to start to say something and earns a glance from the half-orc, “hm?” Then he is changing the subject, all the same to Larz, “well… I grew up in Sage, but now I live in Gualon as they are more accepting of what I am.” The task is finally done and he rubs his hands off on the scrap of boar pelt, offering a handshake to the feline, “name is Larz. A Gualon City guard, where is it you hunt?” He asked in genuine curiosity, “I’ve been restricted to here and Sage for I don’t want the hunt to spoil by the time I get back to the orphanage.” So this man hunts for food that doesn’t even go to himself and in turn the orphans also get clothes and blankets?

Orikahn uses his foot to nudge a bit of dirt into the hole, watching the soil and gravel tumble down with distant amusement. Only gradually does he realize that Larz is introducing himself. "Kall me Kahn," the feline takes the offered hand and gives a distracted shake. "You're down in the swamp then. That's hard going. Tough living down there." A glimmer of respect enters Kahn's eyes, and he takes a moment to study this green-skinned stranger. "Orphanage. Orphans. You're feeding orphans." Kahn's brow furrows. "And then... they serve you? Yes? It's a good plan. One I would have never thought of. I hunt up in Frostmaw and try not to stray too far from my lodge. I know too well," Kahn releases Largakh's hand to give his own chest a somber thump, "the tether of hearth and home. A lucky thing that we've crossed paths here, at the ends of each our own leashes." A self depreciating snort rattles out from the cat's nose.

Largakh grins in a sort of crooked fashion, “good meeting you, Kahn.” A nod at his mention of the sinking city, “that it is, but I don’t mind it.” His next words get a slight head tilt from Larz, still grinning, “in a way. I also teach some of them with the bow and arrow. A lot of them go without ever getting adopted and I make sure they know some basic survival skills.” He let out a start to a chuckle at Orikahn’s joke, “quite right, but these days with the plague in Sage, I’ve been doing a lot of traveling for my elderly grandparents,” not that they need him to, but he’s overprotective of them. “I’ve got to get to frostmaw soon for some ingredients indigenous up there, where is a good hunting spot?” He picks his long bow back up and secures the bow and string across his torso, then he picks up his twin throwing axes to latch them back to the holdster.

Orikahn is mulling over this orphanage idea when Largakh mentions hunting spots. He startles out of his contemplation. "Hmm? Oh! There, well..." He orients himself to the cardinal directions and points appropriately as he talks. "All the hunting land is out WEST of the city. Not too far west, though, be careful. Dead spirits and evil ruins out past the woods. Terrible ghouls." Kahn lifts the edge of his vest a bit and tries to part the fur over his ribs a bit. "There's a scar there..." It's difficult to tell. "Hm. Anyway, I got bit, and it was terrible. Hmm." Kahn straightens out his outfit. "What was I saying? The hunting grounds. Just send for me when you get into town, if you wish, and I'll show you myself." The sabercat nods resolutely, as though the matter's already settled. "Have a good hunt, show you the tundra. Good juju. Hmph."

Largakh looks thoughtful, “yeah?” A glance to the scar the feline points out and a wince, “I will keep that in mind.” A nod, “I only get to hunt once a week on one of my days off, which was supposed to be today.” Another crooked grin as he scratches the back of his head, “I’ll be happy to stop by Frostmaw in a week and be shown around the good hunt of Frostmaw.” A half bow to Orikahn and if the feline didn’t have any other questions or offers for the orc he would wave and say, “I’ll be seeing you.”

Orikahn considers stalking after the half-orc to see where he's going, but some prudent voice (a *conscience?*) advises against. Instead, the feline mirrors the wave. "Well met, Larz. I'll see you on top of the mountain, and soon I hope. Good shot with that panther." With a stretch and a yawn and a roll of his shoulders, Orikahn soon climbs back up to his sunny ledge and resumes half-dozing. He'll unlikely meet anything else as interesting today. "Orphans. I wonder if he even has cubs of his own."