The bleating of sheep is heard deep in the forests surrounding Tryan Gully. An elderly orc woman picks up a young lamb up with one hand, keeping the other on her crook.
"Tåpelig lam. Du må ikke spise disse soppene." She looks up from her ward when she hears someone approaching. Her tusks raise with her smile when she sees who it is. "O Kefka. Trenger du noe fra meg?" A young man and a slime wave to the orc shepherdess.
"God morgen Zarguth. Ja, jeg vil snakke med deg. In common please. I don't know all the words for certain topics." The slime hops off the man's head and approaches the sheep. The ewes sniff him curiously while the rams simply watch. They don't see him as a threat. Zarguth leans her crook against a large tree. "Your accent is improving. If you grew a beard you might pass for an Orkustkan to younger orcs." She sets the lamb down near the rest of her flock. "What is it you want to talk about? Does kjaeresten din need more oil?" Kefka shook his head.
"No, she's not visiting Orkutsk any time soon. Even if she was, it's warmer there now so it'd be less of a problem. I want to discuss relations between the northern orcs and Argonia." The smile faded from Zarguth's face.
"Charmles may be dead, but the new government never apologized to us or acknowledged what the previous one did. It was nearly six years after the war before I came here. Charmles was dead for three of those. Not a damn peep of remorse from those haughty bastards. New faces, same noble bullshit." Her eyes burned with fury. Kefka looked at her calmly.
"Exactly, that what I'm here to discuss. During my last trip to the bazaar in Argonia, I was approached by a man named Erig. He's the current head of the Argonian Foreign Relations Committee. He wishes to have Throk give a demonstration and history lesson on orc food and culture at an upcoming bazaar." Zarguth scoffed at the name of the committee as her eyes became red.
"Fæn altså. Of course they take the thumbs out of their asses once one of us gets famous. We only catch their eye now because we can be a propaganda tool. I assume this Erig was swiftly beaten to death by Little Throky? Orcs will not be exploited by..." Kefka puts his hand up.
"I agree with your initial thoughts, as they mirrored my own at the time. I stated as much during the meeting. Throk has not met with him yet, but we will in a few weeks. I need you to calm down before we continue this conversation." Zarguth sat on the ground and began petting one of her sheep. The others soon gathered around her. "Beklager for det. That was very rude of me. Please continue."
Kefka took a sigh of relief. Few things were more terrifying in Tryan Gully than an angry Zarguth. "Tusen Takk. Anyway, when I met with Erig, I was of a similar mindset to yours right now. I stated my concerns in a confrontational way. This is where my monk friend comes in. He was there speaking with the prince about a similar situation with the people of Godbird Isle in an international music showcase. He put both our views into perspective and planted the seed of a compromise in the minds of Erig and the prince of Argonia. Erig has since drafted a proposal that both Throk and I think is on the right path." Zarguth looks up from her sheep.
"Where do I come in here? It seems like a problem you and Throk intend to handle yourselves."
"We may need your help convincing our people to send a group there." Heavy footsteps approach the group as Throk appears from the thicket. Oddr scampers by happily. "I haven't made anything traditionally orcish in decades. I can't just whip up some random crap and say it's my culture. That'd go against what we'd be trying to do here." Howard approaches Oddr. The wolf pup pounces on the slime playfully before rolling off him. Zarguth grabs her crook.
"How many times must I tell you to not bring Oddr near my sheep? I don't care if he's well trained, sauene vet det ikke." She slowly stands up with the help of her crook. "I suppose you have a sound idea. I would certainly hope I wasn't forgotten after all I did for them. I'll consider it if du trenge meg, på en betingelse. I need to meet with this Erig person and the king, alone. I need to hear their plans for myself. Having either of you there would influence how they speak since they want you working with them. They'll be more honest with a neutral agent alone." Kefka looked Zarguth directly in the eyes.
"The woman who broke a commander's sword over her knee in front of him and led the army in one of the most one-sided victories in the history of post-rhapthorne warfare? Between that and how you looked ready to strangle me when I mentioned them, I don't think you're capable of being a neutral agent. I can maybe convince Erig to speak with you if I'm there, but there is no chance they're letting a government official be alone anywhere with a former enemy general."
The elderly orc stared daggers at the two before a smirk grew on her face. "Heh, I guess Vali told you about what I did. I guess I never was bare en søt gammel dame til deg." She leans on a nearby tree. "I'll do it if you need me. If only to see how Gurajek has held up after all these years. Seeing Vali and Suvi will be nice too." Kefka looks away.
"Suvi and Gurajek are dead. Vali is still alive though." Zarguth drops her crook and grabs Kefka by the collar, eyes welling up with tears of fury.
"Don't you dare lie to me! Gurajek I can accept, but there's no chance in hell my best friend is dead and I didn't know about it!" Kefka's eyes began welling with tears.
"Why would I ******** lie about my grandmother? I didn't know until years later because I was stopping a cult from bringing Rhapthorne back. I never got to say goodbye to her either damn it! Missing her funeral is one of my biggest regrets in life. I still cry whenever I see or even think about her grave." Throk stepped in to push Zarguth away from Kefka.
"Ingen vold mellom venner." Zarguth looked at her hands.
"I might be the last orc alive who was at that battle. I can't believe this." Kefka fixed his collar and blinked back tears before looking to Zarguth.
"That's not true. Yes, most of them are elders now, but there's about 30 or so orcs that were there still alive." Zarguth picked up her crook and sniffled.
"Now I have to do it. They would want me to help bring peace. Gurajek always preferred making food to war. I guess that's where little Throky gets it from." She looked to the sky. "Det er en fryktelig dag for regn." A tear ran down her cheek, eventually falling off her tusk. Throk placed a hand on Zarguth's shoulder.
"Jeg er alltid her for deg. Gråte hvis du trenge." He turns to Kefka. "Same applies to you kid. Go on to work. I'll take care of this." Kefka returned Howard to his perch on top of his head.
"Beklager du må finn det ut på denne måten." He says to Zarguth before leaving.
kefkadragon Community Member 
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