((I will put all my Odelka stories in this thread. These first ones are very old.))
Heat
Part 1.
The heat was overpowering, even in the shade. Salty sweat stung her eyes. She rubbed her face against a muscled arm, then squinted through the harsh sunlight. Unfamiliar scents rode the dry air alongside the sounds of creatures she did not recognize.
It was unsettling to be alone in a world she did not know, but excitement boiled hotter than uncertainty, she was not afraid.
With her back against a massive tree she let her eyes wander across the barren landscape. There was red dirt as far as the eye could see, here and there bushels of hardy plants forced their way out from the red earth. There were a few trees, trunks thick enough that four grown orcs could stand shoulder to shoulder before it and the trunk would still show on either side of them. They were not as tall as the pines of Alterac, and in no way majestic, but they still impressed her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. She missed the sweet smell of moss, rivers and rich earth; the sound of wolves and snow. And even the cold.
It wasn’t as if Odelka wasn’t used to heat. She had spent more hours in the smithy than outside it. When she was not hunting, it was there she slept, worked and ate. The smithies were the warmest buildings to be in, night as well as day. They never let the forges grow cold. She and Pogg, whom had been learning the craft from the same master as her, were responsible for keeping the forges warm and raise the heat in the mornings. They both slept on furs on the floor that they rolled out each evening and stowed away in the morning.
Pogg was a loud man, he ate loudly, talked loudly and snored loudly. He even walked loudly. He was perhaps the most irritating man of the entire clan. Or perhaps it just seemed so because he was the one she knew the best. Despite his annoying traits she was strangely fond of him.
Once, she had been working on the filigree parts for the hilt of a dagger. Work that required concentration and precision. Slow work that, if she was not in the right mood, frustrated her. But if she was in the right mood, calmness would claim her. A peace from all things but those concerning her work. The same peace that took hold of her when she was stalking prey. It was a private peace that excluded all else, and all others.
The piece she had been working on was to be a gift for her friend, Sutha. The blade itself was clean and sharp, thick enough to survive hitting bone and thin enough to pierce flesh easily. Odelka was currently working on the uppermost part of the guard. A tiny half- finished filigree wolf crept stealthily towards the blade. It’s lower body would be worked into the wooden grip.but at the moment, the grip was not attached.
She had been holding a tiny ball of orange hot silver in her tweezers and reaching for the dousing bowl with the other when a loud crash made her jump. Her grip tightened and the tiny ball popped out of the tweezers hold to land in the collar of her vest. It burned against her neck. She stood up to brush it off, but it only rolled down under her vest. Her leather apron had been of no help. Odelka dropped both bowl and tweezer to shake the burning ball out of her vest. The bowl clacked against the floor, water and tiny pieces of silver filigree scattering in the dirt. The tiny ball rolled across her skin and fell soundlessly to the floor. Hours of work and aching shoulders was lying in the dirt. She turned and snarled at Pogg in the doorway. For a second he just looked at her stupidly. Then he took a step back and slowly closed the door.
Odelka unfastened her apron and threw it to the floor. She crouched to salvage what she could of the silverwork, grumbling and growling all the while. The ball of silver had left a trail of tiny scars all the way from her collarbone to her hip. She had experienced worse. Much worse, but that did not make the experience any better.
Heat
Part 1.
The heat was overpowering, even in the shade. Salty sweat stung her eyes. She rubbed her face against a muscled arm, then squinted through the harsh sunlight. Unfamiliar scents rode the dry air alongside the sounds of creatures she did not recognize.
It was unsettling to be alone in a world she did not know, but excitement boiled hotter than uncertainty, she was not afraid.
With her back against a massive tree she let her eyes wander across the barren landscape. There was red dirt as far as the eye could see, here and there bushels of hardy plants forced their way out from the red earth. There were a few trees, trunks thick enough that four grown orcs could stand shoulder to shoulder before it and the trunk would still show on either side of them. They were not as tall as the pines of Alterac, and in no way majestic, but they still impressed her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. She missed the sweet smell of moss, rivers and rich earth; the sound of wolves and snow. And even the cold.
It wasn’t as if Odelka wasn’t used to heat. She had spent more hours in the smithy than outside it. When she was not hunting, it was there she slept, worked and ate. The smithies were the warmest buildings to be in, night as well as day. They never let the forges grow cold. She and Pogg, whom had been learning the craft from the same master as her, were responsible for keeping the forges warm and raise the heat in the mornings. They both slept on furs on the floor that they rolled out each evening and stowed away in the morning.
Pogg was a loud man, he ate loudly, talked loudly and snored loudly. He even walked loudly. He was perhaps the most irritating man of the entire clan. Or perhaps it just seemed so because he was the one she knew the best. Despite his annoying traits she was strangely fond of him.
Once, she had been working on the filigree parts for the hilt of a dagger. Work that required concentration and precision. Slow work that, if she was not in the right mood, frustrated her. But if she was in the right mood, calmness would claim her. A peace from all things but those concerning her work. The same peace that took hold of her when she was stalking prey. It was a private peace that excluded all else, and all others.
The piece she had been working on was to be a gift for her friend, Sutha. The blade itself was clean and sharp, thick enough to survive hitting bone and thin enough to pierce flesh easily. Odelka was currently working on the uppermost part of the guard. A tiny half- finished filigree wolf crept stealthily towards the blade. It’s lower body would be worked into the wooden grip.but at the moment, the grip was not attached.
She had been holding a tiny ball of orange hot silver in her tweezers and reaching for the dousing bowl with the other when a loud crash made her jump. Her grip tightened and the tiny ball popped out of the tweezers hold to land in the collar of her vest. It burned against her neck. She stood up to brush it off, but it only rolled down under her vest. Her leather apron had been of no help. Odelka dropped both bowl and tweezer to shake the burning ball out of her vest. The bowl clacked against the floor, water and tiny pieces of silver filigree scattering in the dirt. The tiny ball rolled across her skin and fell soundlessly to the floor. Hours of work and aching shoulders was lying in the dirt. She turned and snarled at Pogg in the doorway. For a second he just looked at her stupidly. Then he took a step back and slowly closed the door.
Odelka unfastened her apron and threw it to the floor. She crouched to salvage what she could of the silverwork, grumbling and growling all the while. The ball of silver had left a trail of tiny scars all the way from her collarbone to her hip. She had experienced worse. Much worse, but that did not make the experience any better.
