The Keep

It was raining a constant, grey drizzle in Silverpine. The ground was moist, what was left of the grass was coated in mud, and sunken into the ground was a small, young, orc lady, surrounded by broken glass. Strewn beside her, there were leather bound volumes, all written in demonic, and there were clawed footsteps leading away from her. She wore very little, far too little for being in such a cold place. Her hair was done up in two tiny pig tails, her face cleared of mud by the constant dripping of the sky.

Growling deep in her chest, she rolled onto her side, trying to push herself up from the muddy ground. Her head pounded, blurring her vision, as she stumbled to her feet. Holding out her hands to try to find something to steady herself, she took shaky steps forward, stepping onto the broken vials. She moaned in pain, stumbling forward, and stopping herself on a nearby tree. She leaned her back against it, holding herself for warmth. A tiny squirrel ran across her foot, causing her to shriek in fear, as her vision slowly returned, and the pounding in her temples dulled.

She looked down at her body, confused, before taking in her surroundings. She mumbled half-words at the ground as she picked up the books. She looked at the broken vials, and picked them up, placing both in a small bag she found nearby. Inside the bag were some more vials, as well as a few additional changes of clothes, and a few roots and flowers. Confused, she found a small, flat, white stone, and a small, hoop, ring. She felt up at her ears, finding she had similar rings sticking through them.

A black worg looked at her curiously as she began muttering and sobbing. She tried to remember how she got there, failing. But more frightening to the young orc, was that she couldn't recall what had happened before that. Or before that. Or before that. She couldn't grasp at a single tangible memory. Eying the worg, she began backing away, leaving what remained of the glass, until she burst into a sprint, heading north, and hoping to find someone or something that could help her.

Finding her way to a paved road, she continued on. She came to a wooden sign, and read the word, "Brill". Following the arrow, she continued at a jogging pace until she came to the next sign, pointing her up a small hill, and into a town. She cried out, confused at the beings she saw. Looking down at her own muscular and bright green hands, she stared at their pale, rotted, sagging flesh. Turning on her heel, she ran from the town, terrified. But in her panic, her headache had returned, and her eyes once again blurred, and next thing she knew, she was on her ass, having bumped into a large horse.

The rider dismounted, offering his hand to her to help her up. Scrambling backwards, she moved away, standing on her shaky legs. "Miss, are you hurt?" the undead asked, with a slight hiss. She involuntarily let out a gasp of relief, content that he knew her language. She nodded, struggling to understand what was happening. His face looked up to her, concern on his face. His eyes were hidden by a band of leather, his skin missing patches of flesh, and his hair sticking out in a frantic pattern, but he seemed nearly kind. "Come on, I have a place near here, you can dry off, if you like."

Suddenly aware of the chill that was passing through her body, and the heavy water still dropping on her, she nodded again, following behind him as he led her through a small town, which she assumed to be Brill, before leading her up a hill, and to a small, out of the way, hut. Cautiously, she stepped inside, before eagerly running to an already lit fireplace. Stripping quickly of the little clothing she had on, she sat naked in front of the fire, rubbing her hands on her arms in an attempt to get warm.

The man coughed uncomfortably, glancing away from the orc woman, and busying himself with making some hot water in the fire. "Thank you," she mumbled softly, her voice a low and filled with warmth. He smiled a toothy smile, grinning down at her, before again averting his eye-less eyes. Curious, she stared up at him, starting to ask a question, but thinking better of it.

He sat, fixing her tea, neither of them speaking. The fire crackled, drowning out the sound of the rain tapping on the windows. She smiled, almost happily, as she lay back on the soft fur carpet, sticking her feet close to the fire. "I like this place, I think," she sighed, looking up at his back as he sweetened their teas with some of the small bottles of, what she assumed to be, herbs. With his back still on her, he asked her what she was doing running around in the wet forest with not even a cape to protect her. Frowning slightly into the fire, she shrugged, "I don't know." He looked over his shoulder, confused, before bringing the tea to her. "Well, drink this then, orc. I don't make tea for your kind often, so I hope it's to your liking." She rolled the word over her tongue, "orc..."

His face once again fell to confusion, "well.... what's your name, then?" She bit her lower lip, sitting to stare into the fire, before letting out an unhappy sigh. "I don't know."