Right, I've been inspired by Brian Clevinger's utterly, er, inspirational webcomic, 8-bit Theatre, and I've decided to try my hand at doing comedy in the Elder Scrolls setting (again). Only this time I intend to stick with it.

Like I stuck with it last time...

Oblivious

Chapter 1

The currents that make up the infernal, twisted realm of Oblivion flow stronger and faster than ever before. Deep within its darkest depths, fiends and monsters gather under the banner of their twisted patron, ready to spill forth in a tide of madness and evil that will surely destroy the entire realm. Only a band of heroes, heroes who shall face a thousand trials and emerge triumphant, can stand against this evil.

Four warriors of doughty and virtuous resolve needed, please apply at the gates of Anvil Castle before three o'clock 14th Hearthfire. Reward promised.

“Well,” Hlarras said as he read the notice. “That looks promising.”

O'Nigel nodded.

“It does, doesn't it?” he said. “I wander what they'll provide in the way of reward.”

“I don't know,” Hlarras said. “Usually it's something good. The save the kingdom from unspecified evil gig generally pays well.”

“Perhaps,” O'Nigel mused. “But we'd still need two more people before we can apply.”

“True,” Hlarrar said. The dark elf frowned. “But where are we going to find two adventurers who are willing become meatshields, sorry, companions, with us in our quest application.”

“The guilds?” O'Nigel asked. “They always seem to have a large supply of cheap and disposable manpower.”

“Now, now, O'Nigel,” Hlarras said admonishingly. “The guilds have provided Cyrodiil with some valuable and much needed heroes in times past.”

There was a silence, before the two of them burst out laughing.

Once they had recovered from their fit of hilarity, Hlarras nodded.

“Let's see what we can pick up,” he said.

#

As Dunmer and orc approached Anvil's fighter's guild building, they saw a band of four men go past. They were grizzled and scarred, coated in muscle and looking ready to fight anything.

“You reckon they're out for the Oblivion job?” Hlarras asked.

“I'm not sure,” O'Nigel said, adjusting his monocle to get a better look at the men. “Then again they look ready to complete any quest, however perilous.”

“Pah,” Hlarras said. “They're just power levellers and dungeon divers, let me tell you. I bet you they just play World of Warcraft all the time.”

“Probably all have headsets just so they can chat with their 'buddies,'” O'Nigel said. “Probably haven't got girlfriends.”

“I bet you they only paid for their ultra-powerful weapons and high weapons,” Hlarras said, seeming to lose heart slightly.

“And can breeze their way through a dungeon full of mooks,” O'Nigel said quietly. “I want to be like them.”

“I know,” Hlarras replied in a small voice.

“Let's see if we can find somebody at the fighter's guild, shall we?” O'Nigel asked. “We need to apply fast if they are.”

“Well why not just ask at the mage's guild?” Hlarras asked. “Bound to be somebody there who can help us get that job?”

“What's that about a job?” somebody asked behind them. Hlarras and O'Nigel turned to see an imperial, rearing the grubby green robes of a low ranking mage, hurry up behind them. “I need a job.”

“Really,” Hlarras said. “We're applying for a dangerous quest, you see. What can you bring to the group?”

“I can bring a knowledge of all magical schools to this group,” the man said. “I was with the guild, you see, before they chucked me out.”

“Why was that?” O'Nigel said.

“Apparently tampering with the laws of space and time in order to increase my skills in destruction magic is unethical,” the imperial replied.

“Okay,” Hlarras said. “Just a minute.”

He hurried a few paces away with O'Nigel.

“Manipulating the laws of space and time?” he asked. “Did I hear that right?”

“That's what I heard,” O'Nigel said. “That could come in useful.”

“Tell me about it,” Hlarras said. “Should he come?”

“I don't see why not then,” O'Nigel said.

“Excellent,” Hlarras said, clapping hands together and turning around. “Welcome aboard mr...”

“Antius,” the man replied. “Antius Nuntius.”

“Hlarras Laran,” Hlarras said.

“Agrad Leck O'Nigel,” O'Nigel said. “But call me O'Nigel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Antius said. “So what exactly is it that you're doing?”

“There's some quest to save Cyrodiil that we can apply for at the castle,” Hlarras explained. “But we need four people to join up.”

“Ah, the good old save the kingdom deal,” Antius said. “So who else is with you?”

“Nobody yet,” Hlarras said.

“Usually in classical fiction the fourth member of the quest is a more pacifistic healer character,” O'Nigel said. “Usually a second mage of some sort.”

“Sometimes it can be a cleric or priest,” Antius suggested. “Maybe we could try the chapel here, seeing as we already have a mage.”

“Who we don't know is any good,” Hlarras muttered.

“What was that?” Antius asked.

“Nothing,” Hlarras replied innocuously. “So are we going to find somebody else?”

They continued their walk through Anvil's busy streets, towards the chapel.

“Hold on, aren't they all pacifists or something here?” Hlarras asked.

“It is a chapel of Dibella,” O'Nigel said. “They do have the best healers there.”

“Oh, hippies,” Hlarras said disapprovingly. “Still, they do have good healers, it's true.”

“Hold on,” Antius asked. “If they're all pacifists, why would they join a quest that would inevitably involve killing things?”

“That's a good point you have there,” Hlarras said. “And so I choose to ignore it.”

“Is he always like this?” Antius asked O'Nigel.

“Pretty much,” the orc replied. “I find it's best just to let him be.”

“Ah, right,” Antius said.

“So are we going to stand here, or are we going to find a priest?” Hlarras asked.

“Technically it's a cleric we want,” O'Nigel said. “As clerics are a combat-orientated kind of priest that often accompanies soldiers into wars to provide moral and spiritual support.”

“Although chaplains also fulfil that role sometimes,” Antius said.

“That's true,” O'Nigel said. “Of course, it could be argued that missionaries...”

“That's lovely,” Hlarras said curtly. “Especially seeing as nobody cares and this is getting us nowhere.”

“He's got you there,” Antius said.

“You were taking part in that conversation,” Hlarras growled.

He stalked away, O'Nigel and Antius following him quickly.

“You think we're going to find a cleric?” O'Nigel asked Antius.

“I don't know,” Antius asked. “Of course, it could be a chap-”

He was cut short by Hlarras screaming; “SHUT UP!!”

Chapter 2

The three men hurried towards the chapel, determined to find a cleric (or possibly chaplain, or maybe a priest). When they reached the chapel, however, they discovered something was wrong.

Their first clue was the watchman standing outside the door to the chapel.

“You don't want to go in there,” he warned. “It's not pretty, believe me.”

“What happened?” O'Nigel asked.

“Alright, look inside,” the guard said. “But don't say I didn't warn you.”

Pensively, the Hlarras pushed the door open, to be greeted by a shout of; “IT'S ALL LIES!!!”

The dark elf flinched back as a redguard stormed out. He looked angry. Very angry.

“That was the not very pretty thing?” Hlarras asked the guard.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Ricardo can get very angry during theological arguments.”

“So this is regular?” Hlarras queried, looking slightly worried.

“That's right,” the guard said. “I'm posted here every week to get things out of hand.”

“So he's a priest then?” Hlarras asked.

“More of a cleric, really,” the guard said. “Or perhaps he's a missi-GHURK!!”

“I found a cleric,” Hlarras said to Antius and O'Nigel a short while later. “It was that guy who stormed out of the chapel just now.”

“I see,” O'Nigel said. “And why is the guard over there lying a pool of blood and with a gigantic hole in his face.”

“Face hemorrhage,” Hlarras replied.

“A face hemorrhage,” O'Nigel said.

“Yes,” Hlarras said. “A face hemorrhage.”

“You do realise that's medically impossible,” Antius said.

“You get brain hemorrhages, don't you?” Hlarras replied. “So why not face hemorrhages?”

“If that's a face hemorrhage, then why is there a dagger in it?” O'Nigel asked.

“Because, er, because he panicked and grabbed his dagger to try and stem the bleeding,” Hlarras replied.

“But that's one of your daggers,” O'Nigel said. “And why would a city guard have a dagger when their equipment is a standard sword, shield and chain mail? And it makes even less sense considering you're an assassin and thus specialise in using weapons such as daggers.”

“Look, look,” Hlarras said. “Who had a face hemorrhage got stabbed in the face is not important here. Right now we need to find that cleric guy.”

“He might be a-”

“Shut up.”

#

They found the redguard sitting on one of the benches looking despondent.

“Is that him?” O'Nigel asked.

“Breastplate, white robes and a mace?” Hlarras said. “Got to be.”

“What about the arguments about theology?” Antius asked. “What if he's really bad tempered or something.”

“Can't win 'em all,” Hlarras replied, shrugging.

“True,” O'Nigel said. “I mean, I'm a berseker. I fly into a frothing at the mouth rage whenever I go into battle. I'd say that was bad tempered.”

“What?” Antius asked. “But you seem perfectly normal.”

“I simply don't let my job take over my life,” O'Nigel replied. “Just because I'm a berserker it doesn't mean I can't devote my spare time to the appreciation of literature, the arts, and the high pursuit of chess.”

“He plays chess?” Antius asked Hlarras.

“Very well,” the dark elf replied.

“I don't get you,” Antius said carefully.

“Welcome to my world,” Hlarras said, clapping the mage on the shoulder. “It's absolutely insane and I've desired its apocalypse for longer than I can remember.”

Antius shuffled away from the dark elf.

“So are we going to talk to that cleric guy over there?” he asked O'Nigel.

“Might as well,” the orc said. “You there!” He called out to the redguard. “Are you looking for a job and happen to be able to ignore horrific violence being enacted by people who you name as your companions?”

“What?” the redguard asked, looking baffled at O'Nigel's utterly bizarre question.

“Do you want to join our band of questing heroes?” Hlarras asked.

“Er, okay,” the redguard said slowly. “What about the horrific violence though?”

“Well there's bound to fights with monsters and stuff,” Antius said.

“Not to mention the fact that lots of people will be caught in the crossfire of our fight with evil, and there may be some random murders for goods when I'm in town,” Hlarras added. “Goods that are, in reality, utterly worthless.”

O'Nigel gave him an irritated look.

“What?” Hlarras asked. “I'm just warning the guy. It's bound to happen.”

“The depressing thing is that it will,” O'Nigel muttered. “So, you want to join our club.”

“It saves you having arguments over theological matters,” Antius chipped in.

“What exactly are you lot doing?” the redguard asked.

“There's a save the kingdom job available at the castle,” O'Nigel said. “Only it's a four man thing and traditionally a group with a wizard, a berserker and an assassin character take a cleric or healer or some sort.”

“Oh, I'm a chaplain, I'm afraid,” the redguard said. Hlarras twitched.

“Not a problem,” O'Nigel said. “Chaplains and clerics often fulfill very similar roles.”

“Look, do you want to join us, save the world and get masses of fame and riches or not?” Hlarras asked. “Easy choice.”

The redguard thought for a moment.

“Alright,” he said getting up from his bench. “Anything's better than going back to that group of enlightened fools.”

“Hold on, did you just say 'enlightened' fools?” Antius asked. “Don't you mean 'unenlightened?'”

“No, enlightened,” the redguard replied. “When are they going to realise that the gods they worship are simply convenient lies used to provide 'logical' explanations of the world and to give idiots and excuse to give the money?”

“Hold on,” Hlarras said. “You don't believe in gods?”

“Of course not,” the redguard said. “If you think about it, the entire concept is completely illogical.”

Hlarras thought about it for a moment.

“Well there goes a lifetime spent worshiping an illegal deity of murder and bloodshed,” he muttered.

“So what's your name?” Antius asked.

“Rekard,” the redguard replied. “Rekard Derkwin.”

“Right, Rekard, shall we get down to the castle?” O'Nigel said. “We need to get that job.”

The four men hurried towards the castle, ready to take the job that could change their lives and save the universe.

It had already been taken.

“Oh come on!” Hlarras yelled. “We spent all this time for nothing! Who the hell got it?”

“I don't know,” O'Nigel said. “Probably those four.”

He pointed at the four men him and Hlarras had seen earlier. One of them was talking about the quest being easy.

“What do we do then?” Antius asked.

“I say we kill them,” Hlarras said. The others gave him an odd look. “What? The job will be open again, then we can fill it.”

“Is he always like this?” Rekard asked O'Nigel.

“Pretty much,” O'Nigel said.

“Oh.”

“So how are we going to kill them?” Hlarras asked. “I say we lure them into a back alley and do it.”

“You always want to lure them into a back alley,” O'Nigel said.

“I work well with back alleys,” Hlarras replied stubbornly.

“Fine, we'll get them in a back alley,” O'Nigel sighed.

“Excellent,” Hlarras said, rubbing his hands together.

The four quickly trailed the other adventurers, Hlarras climbing on top a rooftop to get a better view. Soon the adventurers were where the four wanted them to be-a long dark back alley.

“Alright,” Hlarras muttered, drawing an arrow and nocking it to his bow. “GET THEM!!”

Hehe this did make me laugh at some points, especially the the bit at the end with the 'back alleys', as well as this bit

Cheers Illydoor. I'll see if I can get some more up by the evening.

Thanks for commenting.

Made me laugh too haha. And the bit about worthless years of worshipping an illegal deity. I assume you mean Sithis? (I'm very much a DB person )

Thanks Seerauna. And in answer to your question, yes, I do mean Sithis, as Hlarras is in the employ of the Dark Brotherhood.

Chapter 3

The assault was described as the most vicious and brutal event in recent history. Crowds of the Black Horse Courier's readers were shocked to discover the horrific details, particularly when one of the victims was thrown out of a window, and when the elf had his spine pulled out of his mouth. The case's judge described it as 'sickening' and 'shocking.'

However, after a complex legal process, the four adventurers were let off, as it was decided they were acting in self defense. Instead, the four perpetrators of the assault were to be given a prison sentence as soon as they had recovered from their injuries, though shortened due to the fact that the injuries they had sustained were most likely punishment enough.

And so, after a month of recovery, Hlarras, O'Nigel, Antius and Rekard were thrown in prison. Non of them were terribly happy about it.

“Well this is just great,” Hlarras muttered. “This is absolutely bloody brilliant. We're in prison. Whoop dee-bloody-doo.”

“It isn't exactly the heroic quest you said we would undertake,” Rekard said. “I expected more along the lines of fame and glory, not rotting in a prison cell.”

“Yeah, yeah, it's rubbish,” Hlarras said. “And we all know who's fault it was!”

There was an awkward silence in the cell for a moment.

“I believe it was your idea,” O'Nigel said. “So it's your fault, really.”

“Oh yeah,” Hlarras said slowly.

“How can you forget that?” Rekard asked.

“I think the trauma of having my spine torn out of my body by way of my mouth most likely forced me to repress some memories,” Hlarras said. “You know, for the sake of my sanity.”

“Fair enough,” O'Nigel said. “But you've got nobody to blame but yourself.”

“I could try and blame it on somebody else though,” Hlarras said. “I mean, Antius was subliminally planting a message to attack those people in my head all along, I'll bet.”

There was a pause, before the others shook their heads.

“Hlarras, that was just pathetic,” O'Nigel said.

Hlarras sighed and leant against the bars.

“Hey, you, kinsman,” somebody called from across the cells. Hlarras looked around to see another dark elf in the opposite cell. “Where you from? Vvardenfel? I bet you got a wife back there.”

“No,” Hlarras replied. “I've never even been to Vvardenfel.”

“Oh really?” the elf said. “I'll bet she's lonely. You know what, I'll be out of here soon. Maybe I'll go pay a visit to her. After all, she'll miss her husband, and she'll need company. But as for you, you're going to die in here! Ha!”

As the elf broke into a fit of laughter, Hlarras turned away, looking confused.

“I don't think he's listening,” he said to the others.

There was the sound of a door closing upstairs, and the sound of armoured boots hurrying down the prisons stairs.

“Maybe it's the guards,” Antius said. “Coming to get rid of big mouth over there.”

As O'Nigel peeked out of the bars to take a look at the arrivals.

“No, they aren't guards,” he said. “Look more like soldiers.”

Three heavily armoured soldiers hurried down the stairs, accompanied by an elderly man in ornately made blue robes. O'Nigel retreated back into his cell.

“There's some old man and what looks like bodyguards,” he said. “What an earth are they doing-?”

“What are these prisoners doing down here?” one of the bodyguards, a woman, snapped as she saw the four men inside. “This cell is supposed to be off limits.”

“There must have been some kind of mix up with the watch,” another man, a redguard, suggested. “It happens all the time.”

“Alright,” the woman grumbled. “Just get this cell open. I don't want anybody following us. Stand back, prisoners.”

The prisoners shuffled back.

“Hey,” Hlarras muttered to Antius. “I reckon that if we jump them now we can take their things and walk away free men.”

“What?” Antius hissed. “Don't you remember the last time we tried to take on four people who massively outclassed us in every manner?”

“No, I don't actually,” Hlarras replied. “I'm trying not to because believe me, having your spine ripped out of your body via your mouth is the most excruciatingly agonising thing that can happen to a person, and I should know!”

“Wait a moment,” the old man said, before turning towards the four huddled in the corner. “I've seen you.”

“Have you?” Hlarras said.

“Indeed,” the man said. “Do you not recognise me?”

There was a pause as they thought about this.

“No, we don't,” Antius said. “If you think about it, if we did then we would have said; 'Oh my god, it's so-and-so that we know?'”

“He's right, you know,” O'Nigel said. “Who are you?”

“I am the Emperor of Tamriel, and I have seen you in my dreams,” the man said. “All of your faces are familiar to me.”

“Hippy,” Hlarras muttered.

The man glared at him before continuing.

“If that is so, then gods give me strength,” he said.

“What gods?” Reckard asked. “And anyway, what's going on here?”

“Assassins have killed my sons,” the Emperor said. “And I believe that I am next.”

“The message said that they were only attacked, sire,” the woman said.

“No, I know they are dead,” the Emperor said.

“He's cheerful, isn't he?” Hlarras asked.

Renault ignored the dark elf and walked to the wall next to the cell's alcove. She searched for a moment, before pressing down on a stone. Instead of remaining firmly in its mortar, however, the stone depressed, sliding into the wall. There was a rumbling, and a shower of dust as the wall slid down, revealing a passage of rough hewn stone beneath it.

“A secret passage,” O'Nigel murmured. “Ingenious.”

“Alright prisoners, it looks like it's your lucky day,” one of the redguards said. “Just don't try anything. I've got my eye on you.”

“Oh, because we're really going to try and deal with four armed people with just our fists,” Hlarras muttered. “That's a really good idea.”

“You didn't say that before,” Antius pointed out. “You said we should try it.”

“Shut up Antius,” Hlarras said.

“Look, shall we get going,” O'Nigel asked.

“Yeah, we should go,” Rekard suggested.

And so, the four followed the Emperor and his bodyguards into the darkness beneath the prisons.

And some more!

Chapter 4

The four prisoners followed the Emperor and his bodyguards through the old cave, a corridor of old stone that led down into a chamber built of white stone, that seemed to glimmer with inner light. It took Hlarras a moment to recognise the architecture, that of sweeping and gracefully pointed archways, as that once built by the Ayleid.

“How old is this?” he asked.

“Old as White Gold Tower,” one of the redguards answered.

“Fascinating,” O'Nigel said. “We're walking through a piece of Imperial history. Imagine that.”

“Oh, please don't get all amateur historian again,” Hlarras groaned.

“Well it's important that we preserve our history,” O'Nigel said. “No knowing where it will go if we don't.”

“The past,” Reckard said.

“Well, that's all very well and good,” O'Nigel said, as the group rounded a corner and headed down some ancient marble steps. “But it's important that we preserve history to-”

He was cut off by a yell of; “For Lord Dagon!”

Three armoured figures, red robes showing beneath the archaic looking metal, leapt down from some kind of overhang. One of them swung at O'Nigel, and the orc gave a roar of rage, grabbing the shaft of the would-be assassin's mace before swinging a punch powerful enough to shatter stone into the man's face. The man screamed and let go of the weapon, and O'Nigel used the mace to smash him in the chest, buckling the metal beneath it. The orc berserker, still bellowing with anger, landed another blow against the man, before grabbing the unfortunate person's head in one hand and shoulders in the other. His huge muscles strained as he tore the man's head free.

By then, the Emperor's bodyguards had dealt with the other two, their superior fighting skills making short work of the men.

“As I was saying,” O'Nigel said, wiping some blood off of his prison tunic. “It's important to preserve the past in order to learn from the mistakes made by our ancestors and ensure that they don't happen again.”

“What the hell did you do to him?” Antius asked.

“I tore his head off,” O'Nigel said.

“With your bare hands,” Reckard said slowly.

“You should see what he can do with a claymore,” Hlarras said. “It's not pretty, believe me.”

“Anybody hurt?” one of the redguards asked.

“We lost captain Renault,” the other one said.

The Emperor shook his head.

“She was a brave warrior,” he murmured gravely.

One of the redguards headed to a door at the far end of the room and unlocked it.

“Stay here, prisoners,” he ordered.

The other bodyguard and the Emperor hurried through the door. There was the sound of a key turning in the latch as it was closed.

Hlarras shook his head and poked one of the corpses with his foot.

“Amateurs,” he muttered. “So now what?”

“I don't know,” Rekard said. “Did they lock that cell door?”

“I don't think we could just walk out of the front door,” Antius said. “I don't think the wardens would like that.”

“How about here?” O'Nigel asked. He kicked at some loose brick in a wall. They fell away to reveal some kind of cave beyond. A couple of rats in the centre saw them and squeaked in alarm, scattering away to some place to hide.

“Well that was insanely lucky,” Hlarras remarked as he carefully stepped into the cave. “You lot get that sword off Renault. I don't think she'll need it.”

He advanced into the cave as Rekard dropped in behind him.

“Hello,” he muttered as he was a skeleton. There was a bow, made of rusted iron, clutched within the old fist, and Hlarras gently prised it out, along with a quiver with a few arrows it. Hlarras nocked an arrow to the string, which had held remarkably well for something so old, and fired off a shot. The bow was stiff and arthritic compared to his old one, but it would be better than being unarmed.

O'Nigel, followed by Antius, dropped in beside them, surveying the cave. Reckard had gone and found some armour, which he had put on over his prison clothes.

“Don't we get anything?” Antius asked.

“You can blast people with magic and O'Nigel can tear people's heads off with his bare hands,” Hlarras replied. “You don't need weapons.”

“Oh fine,” Antius said.

The four headed through an old wooden door in the cave, stopping to pick up a club from the corpse of a dead goblin.

“You reckon there are more of them down here?” Antius asked.

“Of course there are,” Hlarras said. “They're like vermin-all swarm together in one place. It turns to absolute anarchy after a while.”

“Actually, there is a theory that suggests that goblins have a society far more developed and complex than we really think,” O'Nigel said. “And it is in reality a utopian society which we should aspire to be like.”

“Wasn't that put forward by a man who thought Masser and Secunder were mad of cheese, though?” Hlarras asked.

“That's true,” O'Nigel said. “Though it would explain why they have so many holes on them. I mean, what else would cause them? Giant rocks flying around in space?”

Hlarras thought about that.

“You know, that makes a worrying amount of sense,” he said eventually.

“Look, shall we get going?” Reckard, who had strapped the club to his belt, asked. “If Goblins got in somehow there's bound to be a way out.”

“He's right,” O'Nigel said as he pushed open the door. “No point standing around.”

The next room was empty, a unlit cavern that was illuminated when Antius held his hand high and summoned a small fireball. A rat gave a squeak of alarm as it saw them, and then charged towards them, before Antius sent the fireball smashing into the unfortunate creature. It gave a squeal as it died, its scorched fur crackling with flame.

“I'm not carrying that,” Antius said.

“Don't need to,” Reckard replied. He picked up an old torch, lightning it with a small, magically generated spark. “This should do the trick.”

“It's oddly convenient that somebody has left these things lying around, isn't it?” Hlarras asked. “I mean, these tunnel probably haven't been used in years.”

“You'd be amazed how these things happen,” Antius said. “According to one of my professors back at the Arcane University, he found half a brahmin skull down the back of one of his chairs.”

“What the hell is a brahmin?” Hlarras asked.

“Exactly,” Antius said. “What he thinks happens is that there are tiny holes in the space and time, and that sometimes things that nobody would notice were gone fall through them to appear in the most unlikely of places.”

“Interesting theory, that,” Hlarras said. “Would explain a lot.”

“It would, wouldn't it?” O'Nigel said. “But it still doesn't explain how he knew what a brahmin was.”

“He thinks some of the brain's old self awareness fell through with it,” Antius said. “He had some very odd theories on space and time, he did. Probably why he found me so interesting.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Rekard asked as he pushed open a door into the next cavern. There was a shriek and yelp of fright, before there was a painful sounding crunch. “Don't worry,” Rekard called. “Just a goblin. Anyway, what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Antius said cryptically. “Now come on, let's get out of here.”

O'Nigel the intelligent Orc is a great character .

Cheers Illy. I quite liked the idea myself (which is why I added it in).