Role

Chapter 1

A stagnant, putrid gas slowly rises above the muck and mire encompassing the
sickly sweet smell of rotting flesh and earthen decomposition. Slogging
through, one plodding step at a time, is a great sow orc dripping fetid puss
and blood along the way. She takes a momentary rest against the decayed
edifice of some gnarled oaken trunks and gives birth under the deep cover of
the night. The child, covered in all manner of grime and ooze is too sickly to
fulfill her desire for powerful offspring and she discards it as she would a
cake of soap if it were to wind up in her hands.

He lands in the excrement of a few pigs, within their sodding confines, with a
valiant splash. Tears do not stream from his face, in fact, he barely makes a
sound aside from the harsh nasal snorts as if wafting for food. Slowly and
slyly pulling himself along, dangling his mothers cord sloppily though the mire
and toward the milky goodness of momma sow, he instinctively presses onward.
Rooting through the squalor, he forces a way to nourishment the only way he
knows how to suckle the life-giving nutrition of mother pig.

For most races, this sight is almost unbearable to watch but to orcs, it
quickly becomes a betting game. "Which of them will last?" They jeer and swap
tales, pelts and all manor of trade goods betting if he'll last another day.
Slowly but surely, the young orc begins to exert his domination over the
piglets and procures his nourishment by force and strength. His frail body
growing stronger with the passing months, until he's strong enough to survive
on his own. Although still quite scrawny compared to many orcish youth, his
desire for size and strength are silently becoming unmatched.