Penance: Chapter 2 - Mask

Mesh’ka huffed. She was not accustomed to lateness. You couldn’t be with so many younglings depending on you. Things had to go as they were intended and her furrowing brow indicated clearly things had begun to go awry. Inside the children could be heard singing along with the junior matron, giggling and laughing.

At this rate they will be awake long past when they are meant to be asleep!

The senior matron had told her to pay this visitor some respect and lenience, certainly. In excess if she caught her tone right. But she also said to be on guard, she was very specific about that.

”Don’t let him out your sight or leave him alone with them, you hear?” She had said once, twice, nay three times. Was she afraid of something? If so then why would she want him there to begin with...

Pfah! Mysteries are for others to solve. She had younglings to care for. That’s what mattered

“Ahem...”

She jumped, brought out of her own thoughts by the firm conformation of a newcomer’s presence. The figure of a wool robed Orc with a raised cowl stood before her. She could just make out two green eyes below that hood, and the shape of a grey bearded square jaw, and little more.

About dam time...

”you be late... but you are here, are you ready?” She more or less barked, as if speaking to one of the more troublesome boys. Firmness is what the senior matron said you need to have, firmness with a strong guiding hand.

”I am. Anything I should know before we begin?” He asked coolly, his head straightening up to get a good look at her. Mesh’ka could just make out the silhouette of his face as he raised his hands to allow a full view of his face.

”Hrm, just don’t let the one in the green pants sneeze on you, you’ll get sick.” she answered, her eyes passing over his features. A fine patchwork of old and new scars patterned his shaved head and neck, he’d seen battle, or hardship. Those steely green eyes certainly showed it.

I wonder why...

”and don’t keep them up too late, they need sleep.” She finished.

”I’ll be mindful of the time.” He answered, raising his left hand and rubbing his jaw. With a crack of his neck and the roll of his shoulders he seemed to shrink as if by some trick or actors play. With a grunt and a cough, he turned and walked through the door...

Now what is this one playing at?

”Children!  Come! Sit! Gather around old Nog’ork! This old pilgrim has stories of old! Come, come! Yes, yes...” he spoke out loud, now wispier and so different from the voice he had first used. She turned and entered the orphanage herself, watching as the Orc sat himself in a chair with what she guessed was feigned exhaustion, picking up the youngest Orcling boy he could find and planting him on his knee.

”Hrmm! You are heavy! You will grow to be a great warrior, yes, yes! Nog’ork knows this... would you like to hear a story of a little-big warrior?” The ‘elder’ smiled, the child’s eyes grew wide with interest as others gathered around, sitting on furs in a half circle all about this stranger.

”Yes!” came the answer, eager and full of glee.

This should be interesting. Though as matron said, watch him...

”Good! Then Nog’ork will tell you of little Kraang! That is a fine, fine story... mhrm...Long ago...”