To Clem

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IamLEAM1983
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To Clem

Post by IamLEAM1983 »

How's Orc culture doing, in this version of the Hopeverse?
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IamLEAM1983
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Post by IamLEAM1983 »

"To put it mightily feckin' short, we're still bollocksed up by Belial's hanger-ons, to the point where a lot of us actually take pride in having some Hellborne whingers around in the back of our heads. The more control you have, the higher you can go in your average rungs of civil society. 'Course, the planes merging means we're now pretty bloody sure there's a smattering of us that went so far off the deep end they actually came out the other side all nice, civil and scary-like... We've taken to watching for any Blooded kin that's got a thing for sunglasses at night or with a daytime fixation on the old Ray-Bans.

Give a Pitspawn a Ph. D., a lesson in socially acceptable behavior and a lecturing professor's salary along with an orc's strength, and you're up for one dangerous combo - bloke's deadly in the sitting room, lethal if cornered and smart as a dunny rat. Education might've turned our old warbands into developed cultures over the centuries, but it's turned brainless berserkers into Grade-A psychopaths, too.

Concerns aside, we're mostly the same - 'cept we keep our bonded weapons at home. Once the bond takes, each clan's smith breaks up the weapon's blade and reforges part of it into a ring or a pendant - anything that's subtle-like and mostly wearable. It's why the first pass is always a little oversized; the smithy knows he's gonna shave a couple grams of metal off of each piece for that side project.

Let's see, hm... Language is still the same; Demonic script we've co-opted, neutered and diversified over generations, with our early Slavic roots now being pretty feckin' muddy. Khal'azad borrows from everything between Near-Eastern dialects and Celtic pidgins; we swear pretty much like drunk Russian cavemen and get lyrical and shite like the Irish, Orcadians and Welsh, when the going gets good. We've got sixteen words for sixteen kinds of inebriation, and our own word for kinsman also means moron. The first of us were feckin' mongos for even thinking of dealing with Belial, and we've been dragging that stupidity like a dead albatross since the Bronze Age. It, uh, kind of colored the idiom some.

We're still mistrusted, we're still toasted up the wazoo whenever one of the blood manages anything beyond post-secondary education, we get all the menial work whenever it isn't passed off to some snoozing Bugbears, and you shitheads always give us that deer-in-the-headlights look whenever one of us gets smarter than your average cop or lecturer. Grandpap of mine, Cedric Billings, majored in Medicine and Curative Magic in 1932; healed a buncha GIs and some goons of Her Majesty's when he wasn't choppin' Jerry heads off with his trench shovel.

Britain figured it didn't owe him shrackh since he was a Pigface. Clan gave him the old Warlord's Pyre back on Skye - story goes we had relatives from all the way over in Kazakhstan, some two or three Clan branches away."
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