You lean against the bar and are tempted to meet your fuck-friends at the door, but unfortunately duty calls.
"Hey Kri'kan," Liana starts, already a clue for trouble. She never uses your full first name unless Ms. Rav'na'ishh is in, "Boss wants to see you, and I don't like the look she has on her face."
"What look exactly?"
"Like a snake with a mouse."
"Oh boy," you comment, the boss is probably up to something at best borderline legal- but a chance to show up an enemy or something really profitable.
"I'll go see what she wants."
They way to Ms. Rav'na'ishh's office on the top floor of the building always feels hot and stuffy, but being part-reptile you always thought it just was what felt the most comfortable to her. Her office always seems poorly lit to your eyes, but large and very posh as well.
"Kri'kan? I ssee you got my messsage," she says, lengthening the s's like she always does when excited.
"That's why I'm here."
"Good. Then I won't wasste your time. What do you know about the Bubhosh Ogba?"
This is a story from your childhood, and not exactly a pleasant one.
"The Great Brutal, used to be that if multiple orc tribes wanted to band together against a common enemy they'd figure out who'd lead with what was basically a tournament. Hasn't been one for 200 years."
"Not officially, no. No reasson to not have them for fun though."
"What?"
"Every year for about 30 years now, hosted by the Gruntee Trugulu on a small island in the Ssouth Pacific."
The Gruntee Trugulu, or 'Children of Trugulu'- worshipers of an older war-god most orcs have long ignored. Orc supremacists, not quite on par with the Klan in terms of extremism and much smaller in number but more prone to actually doing something besides drinking and complaining. This isn't sounding very pleasant.
"This year they lifted some entry requirements, now as long as you're pure Orc you can join in- you don't have to be a believer in the cause."
Great, a PR-minded supremacist group. Still, a fighting in an Bubhosh Ogba? No small part of wants to leap at the chance of fighting in it.
"I want to enter you. I'll handle everything money related if you handle the Ssnaga Sharaz."
The Snaga Sharaz, literial translation 'Slave Women'. A less well remembered tradition of the Bubhosh Ogba. Chiefs brought at least two women to the Bubhosh, hookers were an insult- otherwise the more beautiful and exotic the better. Win a round and you get to use the loser's Snaga Sharaz however you wanted as long as you returned them with no permanent damage after the Bubhosh.
"There's another fighter sponsored by a certain individual I want to embarrasss. Beat that fighter and in my book you won. Of course, win the whole tourney and you get a sspecial prize. . ." she continues, trailing of cryptically.
"For the Bubhosh? I'll have to think about it. I know one or two women that may go for it, but I'm not going to force anyone. And I need to know the special prize."
Ms. Rav'na'ish is amused, and for once she actually caves in to your demand.
"Well, let'ss jusst ssay you'd be ssurprissed to disscover just how many women fantassize about being. . .conquered. . .by an Orcish war chief- myself included. And, since you won a Bubhish Ogba. . .well, I'll hand you a little black book and we'll see how it goesss." |