A Different Kind of Contract

"A Different Kind of Contract" is a Season Four thread written on [IRL DATE].
== Summary ==
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== Full Text ==
“Judge Donz,” a soldier called, jogging up to Orskaf. “Report from the east,”
“What is its status?” Orskaf asked as he starred down at a map.
“Large portions of it have been claimed by Loki and his brother Thor, it has become a full fledged feuding area. However, there is a village that we can still obtain.”
Orskaf sighed, pushing himself into a straightened position and walking over to a side table, pouring a glass of ice water. “Its significance?” he asked. “Would it be worth traveling to?”
“I believe so Sir,” the soldier replied. “Their warriors are unique and the land is full of powerful magic that could be utilized.”
“Sold,” Orskaf grunted. “Better than sitting here on our asses waiting for the gods to organize their dual. That fortress isn’t going anywhere.” He put on his helmet. “Let’s move out,”
*****
It was an unusually sunny day for the middle of winter, and the sun was hot on the Judge’s armor. The carriages had broken down, forcing the Judge to walk with his fellow men. Of course Orskaf didn’t mind this, what had to be done had to be done. This was just work, and although Orskaf was not particularly fond with the delay, it felt good to be contracting again.
He let out a long grunt, starting to feel warm, and a little unsteady. “Sir….? Sir…?!” the garbled voice of the guard beside him became distorted as Orskaf swayed to one side, staggering slightly. “Sir are you alright?” A keening filled the man’s ears as he felt sweat drip from his chin, his helmet trapping the heat in like an oven.
This world tilted sideways, and faded to blackness.
*****
The sound of pouring water woke the man up, and he inhaled sharply, opening his eyes. “I’m sure when you were younger you could withstand the heat like a camel in the desert,” the village man placed a cool cloth on the Judge’s head. “But between your old age and you accommodation to the cold, I fear the sun has bested you today.”
Orskaf’s eyes rolled around to take in his surroundings; he glanced down, seeing that he was stripped of his armor, dressed in his regular woolen garments. He growled sitting up and grabbing the man around the throat. “Where’s my armor argh!” he snarled as pain shot through his hand.
The village man gently held Orskaf’s finger in a painful lock, setting it down and away from his throat carefully. “Your armor is in the corner, cleaned, and polished.” He explained calmly.
Orskaf jerked his arm away from the foreigner, his anger building over the pain that had been inflicted on him, but then, in a rare moment, it cooled. This man had treated him after all, and he didn’t seem to mean any disrespect by any of his words or actions. He sat up, his eyes still intense and searching. “Appreciated,” he said under his breath.
“Of course,” the man replied, bowing his head. “I have also come to understand why you are here. We are not worshipers of Odin ourselves, but we are diplomatic.”
Orskaf rubbed his face, his episode with heat exhaustion leaving him a little out of sorts and not in the mood to try and convince a bunch of rag tag villagers to join his cause. “I’ll make you see reason,” he sighed. “In the time being,” he stood up. “Tell me where a man can get a drink in a cool tavern.”
*****
The last thing Orskaf wanted to do was get back into that hot armor, so he decided he would simply put his sword around his belt, shoes on his feet, and head out for his food and drink. He would get back into his official garbs when he was ready to resume the contracting. He pushed open the wooden door or the villager’s house open with a snap, looking around. People bustled around, toting carts, carrying crops or attending to other daily activities. A group of children ran past the man, laughing as they swung sticks and attempted to catch one another. Orskaf’s lips curled. “Damn barbarians,” he muttered, stepping down onto the dirt road and making his way across the street. He walked up to the entrance of a small drinking den.
“Contract,”
Orskaf hesitated when he heard the word. Turning his head, he saw a group of men whispering in the alley way off to the side. He crept over, leaning his head so he could hear what they were talking about better.
“Have you heard? ….contract….the white cats….something’s up….powerful witch….”
Orskaf’s eyes lit up when he heard that last part. He did not know much about witches, but he knew they were powerful. Anything that was powerful was something Orskaf was either interested in utilizing…or deliberately avoiding. He approached the men. “Witches you say?” he said and then men turned around, giving him a quizzical look.
“Yeah…” one of them said. “Do you know something about it old man?”
“No…” Orskaf said, standing in front of him and looking him up and down. “But while I’m here, you may as well tell me what you know…in pointed…detail.”
Category:Season 4
Category:Orskaf Donz
Category:BOTGD
Category:Events