Role

Chapter 11

Pleebert Pussgut stood, alone, outside of Tremblefist's Hut. Slightly
smirking, she shouted towards the entrance, "Pleebert can enter?". Her
outfit, much more 'shiny' than it had been in a while, had been gathered from
many corpses that she had created on her way. Weapons, her common held items,
were not in her hands - But rather an enormous, dripping, rancid smelling
sack.

"Yuh, enter!" Tremblefist barked.

Entering the hut, Pleebert drooled as she said "Me brought you dat gift me
promised". Swinging the heavy sack forward, she let the contents spill out on
the ground. Now scattered upon the floor of the hut were assorted make-shift
meats from various races and people. There were feather-mixed arial steaks,
hairy fire giant steaks, slightly blue storm giant steaks, and so on.

Tremblefist, seeing this tribute and feast, grinned widely. "Me sees you kept
yer word. From now on, you be my Butcher Girl. Seems even with enemy dead,
you not done with body, and that now be known."

Pleebert nodded contentedly, feeling smug appreciation of herself swell
through her mind. Her return to the clan had done nothing but bring good
things her way. She had reached adaptation, and now even had a title bestowed
upon her by Tremblefist himself.

These improvements, though, brought her to question certain aspects of her
life. She had slain many, bashed more, and taunted even more people. What
else was there? It wasn't that she was bored of her lifestyle, nor was it
that she didn't like what she had received. Instead, it is rather analogous
to a child getting his first bite of cake . . . .He wants more. It seemed like the
more she killed, the more she raged, the more she struck fear into the hearts
of Therans, that she only wanted more and better. She had a special place
among the Orcs, now, as Tremblefist's butcher girl. Yes, it was a great
accomplishment - But she still wanted more. She wanted a special pace among
ALL Therans. A place as a nightmare, a beast, and an idea. She wanted to be
more than just an Orc you could be wary of, she wanted to be the thought that
would cause shivers in orphans. Power, fame, wealth, and more bloodshed. She
wanted more.