Hard rigerous mountain climbing, the prospect of killing brain-dead orcs and of course a tanker of ale at the end of the day. Could Alaric's day get any better than this? So far, everything that had happened to Alaric was good. He had decided to explore the mountainous north to see what they contained.

When he had reached halfway up the mountains, he could have sword he could have seen a green foot from behind a rock run as fast as it could away from Alaric. It was either an Orc or a Goblin bandit.

Now ask anyone, and they would probably advise going up against an Orc in a fight because (let's face it) it's just a stupid thing to do. But Alaric enjoyed the prospect of a good fight, the sound of a sword or axe swinging through the air, the rush of adrenaline which only came in a fight, the knowledge that wrong one move could cost you your head and several other limbs.

But Alaric thrived on the powerful feeling of battle, and it was because of this that he had decided to go ahead and scale the mountains. He decided to stop and admire the view from the top of the mountain. Looking down, he could see a distant city and village.

"It's a good thing I'm not afraid of height," Alaric muttered to himself.

Vestien was traviling in the north once more it was his home... or it used to be he was liked the hights and even the coldest of winters did nothing to stop him. As he rounded the corner he saw the unmistakeble sight of an orc trying to hide very unsucsesuly he drew a two handed sword and be gan to aproch very slowly then he relised the orc was the distraction their were more about but the trap haddnt been sprung yet, orcs may not be the sharpest tool in the box but they do have some cunning about them.
He changed into a wolfen form and slunk off into the rocky out crops looking for the rest of the unfortunate group.

(OOC: This is my first post as an ARPER.)
Alaric continued towards where he had seen the green foot dart off. It was a long and winding path, the sort of path which twists and turns and dis-orientates those who don't pay much attention. Alaric drew his sword, ready for the brawl which he knew was going to happen soon.

However, the path had led towards a dead end. Alaric was soon facing a large rock face which was unscalable and dangerous. Where on Imythess had that Orc gone?
Maybe he had taken the wrong turn, Alaric turned around and was about to walk back when...

"FOR GRASHNAK!!!!"

Alaric stopped dumbfounded and looked up to see a site which made him drop his jaw. At least 40 Orcs had jumped out of the rock crevases and had now surrounded Alaric. Each of those 40 Orcs was holding either one or two wicked looking swords which looked like they could do alot of damage to someone's insides.

Alaric sheathed his sword and waited.

"A sacrifice, a sacrifice to the lord Grashnak!" shouted one of the Orcs.

Soon, Alaric was being lead of into a cave by the Orcs.

'By Braxus' Axe!' Alaric thought, 'This must be a secret underground city for the Orcs.'

Vestein saw the ambush in his full wolf form it was hard for him to understand but part of him knew he would have to folow h skulked around at the back of the group darting from rock to rock. When the party reached the cave entrance the stench hit him like a well thrown brick. The smell of orcs was unmistakabled even to a human but for his nose it was unbearable he hid off the path and changed back into his human form if he wanted to help the unfortuante man he would have to folow on human feet... maybe the orcs were stuid enough to no notese him he was their size and he was wering similar armour...

After about 5 minutes of walking, the 40 Orcs and Alaric finally entered what seemed to be the inner sanctum of the city. The stench was horrible, Orcs definatley had no hygiene at all. There were flies everywhere and skulls littered the floor.

Alaric was lead into a circular type area... it looked like an arena. He was stripped of his weapon by an Orc and given nothing in return. However, Alaric could take care of himself with his bare hands.

The Orcs all looked at Alaric and then screamed... "GRASHNAK! A SACRIFICE FOR GRASHNAK!"

Then something caught Alaric's eyes. It was definatley an Orc, but it had THREE arms. Two arms were where they should have been, but one arm was underneath his left arm. He was extremley muscular and hard horns producing from his head.

This must have been Grashnak... a mutant Orc.

Alaric guessed that he would have to fight his way out of the Orc city by killing Grashnak. That suited him just fine, for something had caught Alaric's eye again. Grashnak was wearing a beautiful belt with two Boar's tusks producing from the front.

'That belt would suit me better' Alaric thought.

Grashnak took of his belt and got stared at Alaric. Alaric stared back and craked his knuckles.

...It was time to fight!

A fetid odor that made the Orcish city smell like a field of flowers in comparison, announced the latest intruder to foul city. "You smell that Ritz? We're here. A shame that they have no gaurds to greet us. I suppose I'll have my fun soon enough though.....," Vernon said to the small rat on his shoulder before he stoped and sniffed the air befouled air again. "What luck have I? There is also one who bears the lunar disease...yes inflicted. My, my, this should be inter-," Vernon said happily before being interruped by a loud mass of cheering, and chanting. "It's show time Ritz, wouldn't want to miss something interesting, would we?," Vernon laughed before Ritz scurried back into Vernon's backpack and Vernon set out after the orcs.

Vernon scrambled up a wall and maintained his pursuit upon the ceiling. This was a safety measure for when the orcs finally noticed him. He could have masked his scent and probably thus prevent them noticing him till he attacked, but Vernon found no need for or fun in it for the moment.

Before long Vernon had found what he was looking for and a little extra. The orcs were crowded around two figures, one a mutated orc who was either the head honcho or the number one bodygaurd of the head honcho and the other was a mere human. Clearly a fight was in order. Vernon decided he would atleast watch the fight a bit before interfering and handling the growing few orcs that looking up in search for the source of the smell that even they called foul.