~Follow me to a place where incredible feats are routine every hour or so~
~Where enchantment runs rampant, just wild in the streets, Open Sesame, here we go!~
~Oh, Kharean niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiights, like Kharean daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays~
~They tease and excite, take off and take flight, they shock and amaaaze!~
~Oh, Kharean niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiights, like Kharean daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays~
~More often than not, are hotter than hot, in a lot of good wayyyys~
~Pack your shield, pack your sword, you won't ever get bored~
~Though get beaten or gored, you might!~
~Come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly~
~To another Kharean niiiight!~
----------------
The story of the orcish warrior maiden known as Zazi begins with humble roots, as so many great stories often do. We know not from where she came, or precisely whom she may have called family, only that she was a woman of Khare, of both orc and human blood, whose ambition and determination to survive against all odds thrust her into the midst of a conflict far greater than herself, with great consequences for the realm as we know it. I shall begin with the day she was hired, by a cantankerous merchant, to the task of pursuing the infamous magic lamp.
It was mid-afternoon on a hot and dry summer day. The previous night there had been a robbery at the warehouse of an orcish merchant named Maghurzikh Shazorku. Maghurzikh Shazorku owned a dockyard by the river, where he had collected many items of great and small value acquired in his travels. The thief came in the night, and stole only a single object: an oil lamp of brass and pewter. To look at it, one would think it worthless! ...but for its auspicious origin; for the lamp was in fact a relic of the ancient Khadajar dynasty, recovered from a long forgotten tomb of a powerful sorcerer by the name of Azhariman.
Maghurzikh Shazorku knew understood true value to the right buyer. Moreover, he understood that there was a strange and fearsome magic hidden within this humble-looking lamp. He sent out at once a request for warriors of fortune to help him recover the stolen lamp and kill the thief who had taken it. This was because Shazorku's own men were not suited to the task of searching a city like Khare for a lone thief, nor were they so expendable as to send them to such ends. Rather, Maghurzikh Shazorku relied for these things upon paid mercenaries, as paid mercenaries were easy to hire and dismiss, and did not need to know too much about the item they were sent to recover.
The orcish maiden known as Zazi was the first to answer Shazorku's call. She had worked for him in prior days to guard his warehouse and shipments, and he knew that she was reliable for such simple tasks. She also knew the city well, having lived among the street rats since she was old enough to hold a spear. Furthermore, Zazi was hungry, and in need of work; and a hungry fighter does not ask too many questions.
So it was that Zazi came upon the warehouse of Maghurzikh Shazorku. She was clad in toughened leather from nave to shoulder, and brought with her a spear that was a hand longer than herself, as due to her orcish lineage she stood nearly the equal height of any human man. Thus it was that she could act in the place of a man in martial pursuits, and having wits more human than orc, could be considered a suitable replacement for any common soldier. Zazi knocked thrice upon the warehouse door, and was answered by one of Shazorku's guards, stout and tall in his full-blooded orcish stature.
"He is waiting for you. This way", said the guard, and he gestured for Zazi to follow him inside. The warehouse, it should be noted, was a modest property compared to some other of the greatest merchants in Khare, yet it was large enough to store at least three hundred tons of dry goods, and further space for one hundred slaves. It was well secured behind a ten-foot wall, which was patrolled at all hours by at least three men on duty. Therefore, it was to Maghurzikh Shazorku's great anger to learn that someone had snuck into his warehouse in the night and taken his most valuable possession from under his nose.
"Sit!", Shazorku bellowed the moment he laid eyes upon Zazi, pointing toward a couch across the room near to him. The orcish merchant was an imposing figure, standing well above six feet, with broad shoulders and mottled green skin. His red eyes shone with fury as he had just been barking orders at his guards to take inventory of what else was missing. At the command, Zazi tensed her jaw and approached the room where the merchant was standing, but she did not sit, instead resting the butt of her spear against the floor and tucking the haft inside her elbow.
"What's this about?", she asked.
Maghurzikh responded swiftly, "The bastards stole from me... ME!!" He beat his chest for emphasis. Growling, he said to Zazi, "I don't have time to search the city for this worm. You will do it!"
Zazi stood motionless, watching the orc curiously until he remembered that she was not one of his regular employees, and her indignant stare came with the expectation of payment.
"The bounty is five hundred silver for the lamp he stole... and another two hundred for the thief's head. Three hundred if he's alive! I want to kill him myself... I want to kill him slowly...", said the orc.
Zazi nodded slowly, and glanced around the room, noting the presence of a woman she had not previously seen before when last she worked for this orc. "What lamp and what thief?", she asked.
~Where enchantment runs rampant, just wild in the streets, Open Sesame, here we go!~
~Oh, Kharean niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiights, like Kharean daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays~
~They tease and excite, take off and take flight, they shock and amaaaze!~
~Oh, Kharean niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiights, like Kharean daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays~
~More often than not, are hotter than hot, in a lot of good wayyyys~
~Pack your shield, pack your sword, you won't ever get bored~
~Though get beaten or gored, you might!~
~Come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly~
~To another Kharean niiiight!~
----------------
The story of the orcish warrior maiden known as Zazi begins with humble roots, as so many great stories often do. We know not from where she came, or precisely whom she may have called family, only that she was a woman of Khare, of both orc and human blood, whose ambition and determination to survive against all odds thrust her into the midst of a conflict far greater than herself, with great consequences for the realm as we know it. I shall begin with the day she was hired, by a cantankerous merchant, to the task of pursuing the infamous magic lamp.
It was mid-afternoon on a hot and dry summer day. The previous night there had been a robbery at the warehouse of an orcish merchant named Maghurzikh Shazorku. Maghurzikh Shazorku owned a dockyard by the river, where he had collected many items of great and small value acquired in his travels. The thief came in the night, and stole only a single object: an oil lamp of brass and pewter. To look at it, one would think it worthless! ...but for its auspicious origin; for the lamp was in fact a relic of the ancient Khadajar dynasty, recovered from a long forgotten tomb of a powerful sorcerer by the name of Azhariman.
Maghurzikh Shazorku knew understood true value to the right buyer. Moreover, he understood that there was a strange and fearsome magic hidden within this humble-looking lamp. He sent out at once a request for warriors of fortune to help him recover the stolen lamp and kill the thief who had taken it. This was because Shazorku's own men were not suited to the task of searching a city like Khare for a lone thief, nor were they so expendable as to send them to such ends. Rather, Maghurzikh Shazorku relied for these things upon paid mercenaries, as paid mercenaries were easy to hire and dismiss, and did not need to know too much about the item they were sent to recover.
The orcish maiden known as Zazi was the first to answer Shazorku's call. She had worked for him in prior days to guard his warehouse and shipments, and he knew that she was reliable for such simple tasks. She also knew the city well, having lived among the street rats since she was old enough to hold a spear. Furthermore, Zazi was hungry, and in need of work; and a hungry fighter does not ask too many questions.
So it was that Zazi came upon the warehouse of Maghurzikh Shazorku. She was clad in toughened leather from nave to shoulder, and brought with her a spear that was a hand longer than herself, as due to her orcish lineage she stood nearly the equal height of any human man. Thus it was that she could act in the place of a man in martial pursuits, and having wits more human than orc, could be considered a suitable replacement for any common soldier. Zazi knocked thrice upon the warehouse door, and was answered by one of Shazorku's guards, stout and tall in his full-blooded orcish stature.
"He is waiting for you. This way", said the guard, and he gestured for Zazi to follow him inside. The warehouse, it should be noted, was a modest property compared to some other of the greatest merchants in Khare, yet it was large enough to store at least three hundred tons of dry goods, and further space for one hundred slaves. It was well secured behind a ten-foot wall, which was patrolled at all hours by at least three men on duty. Therefore, it was to Maghurzikh Shazorku's great anger to learn that someone had snuck into his warehouse in the night and taken his most valuable possession from under his nose.
"Sit!", Shazorku bellowed the moment he laid eyes upon Zazi, pointing toward a couch across the room near to him. The orcish merchant was an imposing figure, standing well above six feet, with broad shoulders and mottled green skin. His red eyes shone with fury as he had just been barking orders at his guards to take inventory of what else was missing. At the command, Zazi tensed her jaw and approached the room where the merchant was standing, but she did not sit, instead resting the butt of her spear against the floor and tucking the haft inside her elbow.
"What's this about?", she asked.
Maghurzikh responded swiftly, "The bastards stole from me... ME!!" He beat his chest for emphasis. Growling, he said to Zazi, "I don't have time to search the city for this worm. You will do it!"
Zazi stood motionless, watching the orc curiously until he remembered that she was not one of his regular employees, and her indignant stare came with the expectation of payment.
"The bounty is five hundred silver for the lamp he stole... and another two hundred for the thief's head. Three hundred if he's alive! I want to kill him myself... I want to kill him slowly...", said the orc.
Zazi nodded slowly, and glanced around the room, noting the presence of a woman she had not previously seen before when last she worked for this orc. "What lamp and what thief?", she asked.
