Мафия 8. The Orcish Saga

It all began at Arandor's house. He lived in a small hut on the edge of the settlement, smelling of every possible herb. His body was found right on the floor by the entrance door, all twisted and slashed—and slashed by Arandor himself! Next to the body lay a rag doll resembling Arandor himself, occupying the same pose and drenched in some kind of wine.

Judging by the tracks left behind, both a wolf and an orc had visited the hut.

WhiteLizard did not survive the night either. He was found near Neyra Drake's house. Apparently, someone mistook him for a cutlet at night and... ahem ahem, beat him so much that he could be put in an oven—the dish would be tasty, though there is little meat in WhiteLizard. He's a bit scrawny, the "experts" concluded. Indeed, such a death cannot even be described in a story—one would want to imagine something more humane, even for an orc.

Unlike the first two losers, Hermit actually managed to wake up. His head hurt terribly, of course, and the floor in the house was covered in some symbolic nonsense, but he was alive!

Revan's head hurt about as much. At night, some brute came to him, saying he had to stay with Revan until morning. An attempt to remove the uninvited guest was quickly interrupted by a direct blow to the forehead, after which the owner of the house was neatly placed in an old armchair, and the brute indeed hung around his house until morning.

Actually, the morning sight was more of a "successful" conclusion to a long night. It all began at Hermit's house. The poor fellow's headache had just gone away when suddenly it returned—in this case for the last time, and not only his head. He turned into roughly the same kind of cutlet as WhiteLizard. However, this time the body was also charred, as if a dragon had scorched it—though I thought they were all killed off around here!
And not far from Hermit lay Neyra Drake. Her body was a quite ordinary pale-green color, although the arms and legs twisted inside out slightly spoiled the general impression. Neyra was given her doll for her final journey—in short, no need to strain over the burial—everything is in order here: one is roasted, and the second is unlikely to resist either.

It's a pity that Amko fell out of the general bloody-mystical sequence—he was simply mauled by a wolf! Though one thing is strange: how did he get into the house and not be afraid of all the filth on the walls. Apparently, it was a stupid wolf, still inexperienced.

The killings ended until morning. Also worth noting as "interesting" is a extremely dissatisfied Kash, whose forehead was adorned with a substantial bump, and a dead-drunk Drakkosha, who was slowly crawling back home. Funny, because yesterday in the tavern they were just picking Kash's bones apart...

And at night, as always, things happened. The second party ended. This time the "party" took place at Drakkosha's house—not even in the house, but in a large tent—basically, there was plenty of room to roam. However, for the hostess herself, it ended sadly, just like for Kash. The hostess was mauled, and she didn't even resist—as if under a charming gaze! Although that's all nonsense—there are definitely no sorcerers in the settlement! As for Kash, he was pierced through by something like a spear or a pitchfork, but with only one point. Well, screw him—no reason to be so arrogant!
Still, there were four people in the hut.

In connection with the nightly event, Revan drained a barrel of ale, combining pleasure with utility—commemorating the dead and curing his hangover. Lu41k simply sighed sympathetically, although in her soul, despite the results of the night's revelry, she was quite calm—maybe she didn't draw any conclusions for herself, or maybe something else—who knows these orcs!

It happened at batonkamch's place. Not far from the banquet table, a drunk Lu41k lay on the floor. She was mumbling something in an unknown language... or maybe in Orcish, but barely understandable due to her diction. "In..st..ink...ink...inquisit... may you be gobbll..goblins beat you day and niiiiight..."- mumbled Lu41k, drawing circles in a pool of blood. The blood was not hers, but batonkamch's. He died from deep wounds on his chest—someone with particular cruelty literally tore the poor fellow apart. It is unclear, however, why batonkamch's drinking buddy survived... I guess you don't beat those who are lying down.

And meanwhile, one less coward: Revan ceased to exist during the night. He was stabbed, most likely with a dagger; the body lay in some strange circle, illuminated by four candles. Not far from the body lay a crumpled piece of paper with some kind of little poem:

-Oh, how good that I was able to wake up today,- mumbled Lu41k, watching as Revan's body was carried out of the house.

-At least no one disturbed you at night,- complained Gur passing by,- some idiot kept banging on the door, and then apparently decided to keep watch at the house. Patrolled it, damn it!