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Saturday, June 16, 2007 An Oddjob and an Orcjob rev01

Sample Image of a White-Haired Fighter:
Firion from Final Fantasy Dissidia (FinalFantasy.Wikia.Com)
Closely similar to Robert Chandler the Fighter-Ranger


“Don’t judge a monster by its size and ferociousness, but by the devastation it brought.”
- Sage the Fireheart
Founder, Fireheart Hunters’ Guild
First Emperor of Arcadia

An Oddjob and an Orcjob

A boy ran in a hurry along the narrow streets of Rand, a major city in the Island Kingdom of Lore. He bumped into people and trampled mud puddles along the way, leaving people cursing and yelling behind him – some even checked their tunic to look whether the boy has stolen their purses or anything valuable.
The boy ignored all the curses and yells upon him, and ran along several blocks of gothic-styled buildings until he entered a shabby-looking tavern with a yellowish ram with the text “The Golden Ram” badly carved on a signboard hanging in front. The Golden Ram was the cheapest, shabbiest and dirtiest tavern-inn in Rand. The wine and ale there were bad, but it was always full of rowdy, strange and suspicious people with their own strange, shady businesses – gambling, brawling, having fun with tavern maidens, and even talking in low voices. Well, secret talked in loud voices can be made in here too, as it was too loud there – rest assured your talked wouldn’t be heard by anyone on the next table.
The boy looked around desperately, and once in a while ducked to avoid flying objects like wooden mugs, stones – fortunately no sharp ones, though. After a while, he finally noticed someone and walked to a group of people gambling on a corner. They were shouting with frustration on their faces or muttering things like “Damn, he won again!” and all sorts of curses. One of them – a man with silvery, unkempt hair – didn’t yell, though. Instead, he coolly extended his hands to collect the crowns (gold coins), florins (silver coins) and zennies (bronze coins) on the table and poured them all into his purse. Although he apparently was the winner, he didn’t smile. He only stared cautiously around him, readied himself as though anticipating something bad. And it happened. One of the gamblers, an ugly, fat, unshaven and badly dressed man got up, banged the table and put his one foot on the chair, screaming.
The two other gamblers were puzzled for a while, staring at him – but they instantly understood, and shouted along to support him.
“Yeah! Winning seven times already! That’s impossible!”
“Must be sumthin’ behind ‘ees hands!”
“And he ain’t even smile all the time! Mus’ be afraid he’s gonna be found out!”
“Thrash ‘im!”
“Search him! Make him return our money!”
The cool silver-haired guy raised his face. He was handsome, although his face was sallow and looked somewhat feminine, but his calm, serious and cautious behavior gave an air of someone who has endured great hardships, tragedies and traumas. He always wore a leather breastplate in front of his shirt, and was always ready with a two-handed kiliji (a curved long sword originally from Meshallah) neatly hung inside its scabbard under his shabby blue hood and robe. The boy recognized him perfectly at once, and was about to call him, but the silver-haired man noticed the boy and signaled him to keep quiet and keep away.
“Hey, won’ speak a word, eeh? No reveal your secret!?”
“Maybe you will talk after we rearrange your pretty face!”
“O’ you hungree? Wanna eat? Here, taste THIS!”
The bald man launched his knuckle sandwich towards the silver-haired man’s mouth, but the silver-haired man simply moved his head aside with great reflexes and avoided the hit altogether. He got up, and was ready for the next attack.
One thought came into the silver-haired man’s mind:
Even if I speak, these stupid brutes won’t listen – they just want to rob my winnings. Well, it’s time to show them who I really am, as Pear is already here…
To avoid revealing too much of him, the silver-haired man avoided most of the attacks using knuckles, knifes and a wooden chair, and finally counterattacked, catching the bald man’s punch and kicking him straight on his jaw, sending him flying backwards and fell crashing on the wall, knocking him out. The fat guy and the one-eyed scarface were astonished to saw this display of strength, but thinking that it was only a lucky strike they attack the silver-haired guy altogether. The scarface’s attack missed, but the fat guy successfully hit the silver-haired guy’s shoulder as he was avoiding the scarface. But the silver-haired man’s expression didn’t even change in pain, instead he ducked and sweep-kicked the fat guy’s feet, causing the fat guy to fall tumbling on the floor.
The one-eyed, badly-scarred man’s face became pale and he ran away at once.
The fat guy tried to get up although he was irritated with his friend’s cowardly behavior. But the silver-haired man didn’t waste time and instantly drew his kiliji and pointed it directly to the fat guy’s throat. Then he finally spoke.
“Get out now. I only kill monsters and bandits, unless you were one of them.”
The fat guy whimpered, “Ah, you’re a hunter?”
A tavern guest cut in.
“You’re new in town, heh? He’s a hell of a hunter, you know.”
The little boy named Pear spoke, “Mister Orcbane?”
The silver-haired man replied, “Sssh, I’ve told you many times, just call me Robert.”
“Aw, it’s easier to remember you as Orcbane, it’s so frequently said in the guild.”
“Ah, Pear, now you’ve done it.”
Robert the Orcbane then talked to the fat man with a threatening tone.
“Well, what will it be now? Still want to rob my money?”
“Your money WHAT? You must be cheated, I can tell”.
“I didn’t cheat.”
“Then how come you won seven times and only lost twice?”
“’Twas a dice game, right? Maybe you must learn about concentration*). Focus your mind and eye on the dice movements. Well, you must train them hard, because I got that kind of training once as a scout.”

(* Concentration = What Robert meant was Eagle’s Eye – the ability to notice very quickly or even the slightest movement from the objects from any distance. Besides training, one must have the talent – that was quite uncommon among humans. An Eagle’s Eye expert was usually a good scout or spy. Robert had that talent.

“Damn, you’re a soldier! Then why did you lose twice?”
“Well, that’s a natural thing. Even my concentration can’t be accurate all the time, but two out of seven, that’s good enough for me,” said Robert, patting his waist where his bulging purse was safe beneath his leather armor. “I know you guys are new in town because none of my old mates want to gamble with me again. I need to earn pocket money, you know as there is no orc to hunt…”
Suddenly Pear remembers something and cut in.
“Excuse me, Sir Orcbane, but now there is’.
“It’s Robert, Pear, Robert.”
“Yeah, Robert… Robert…”
“Wait.. you said there’s an orc-job at the guild?”
“Let’s go there! Here, Gumbold, for the food, ale and for the damage too”
Robert tossed several florins and zennies to Gumbold the tavern-innkeeper’s table, and a crown to the fat guy.
“Here’s for you. No hard feelings, mate. Treat your friends too.”
The fat guy didn’t believe his eyes and ears. He was still sitting on the floor, astonished as he saw Robert and Pear rushing out from The Golden Ram tavern-inn.

Hmm... start over from the top again with a new feel... how do you feel now?

Andry Chang
Blog Jockey (BJ Vadis)

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