Another blistering day with the intense sun. Venti was right around the corner, but Ignius still had one more wave of heat left in it before it decided to move on. Fishing had been moderately successful. He'd caught a few trout, and lots of smaller fish which were thrown back into the water. Fishing was very time consuming and it wasn't the most exciting of pastimes. Time seemed to crawl and it did. For his hard work of waiting, Delanac had three average-sized fish to show for it. There was no use in complaining, so he made short work of skinning and cleaning them into fillets. Fresh fish wouldn't last long out in the sun unless you cooked them, but why settle for the run-of-the-mill fish fry when you could do so much more?

Endapano had plenty of forest to scrounge kindling from, and firewood wasn't hard to come by. Using some implements to craft a makeshift smoker, he started the fire and fanned the embers. He'd heard of cooking meat with smoke until they were done. The smoke not only gave the meat color, but imparted characteristic flavors of the wood used. But for a first-timer like him, pine and oak would have to do. The process would take hours, and he had been sitting nearby watching the heat since noon. The afternoon drifted on, and the fragrant smoke at times billowed out of the cracks of the smoker he cobbled together. Most people hardly paid him any attention, maybe a glance or two at the strange set up he had leaking smoke. 

"Hrm…how long has it been? Can't leave them in for too long or they'll become smoked jerky. Dried fish isn't exactly what I'd like to be having after hours of preparation and waiting." The orc muttered, keeping an eye on the smoker. "Then again I'd rather it be all-done, then half-done. The winds better not pick up or I'll be in a bind."

[OOC: Oh right, did I mention that Larka actually hates orcs? Mahaha ;)]

A whole island of elves, Larka was looking for one in fact, but not any of the native ones. She had hoped that maybe, if Celeste had come to these willingly than maybe she had made her way to the far North to the island of Endapano where she had heard about the elves living there. Larka couldn't do anything other than head for there and see what she could find out, maybe someone had seen her missing wife.

Sadly, they hadn't, not a single elf had heard of the woman she was looking for. The wood elves were decent folk and treated her normally, it was the high elves she was about ready to knock down a few pegs. They looked down on her, one, because she was human, and two because they assumed that her missing arm was someone how a handicap, and the fact that she was wearing elfish leather armour and wearing two swords was wrong. It had been so tempting to prove them wrong, but Larka had held herself in check and walked away each time, each time taking another drink from her flask, which was actually filled with rum and not water.

So the tall woman had decided to take a walk instead and clear her mind, oh what she's give to be able to meditate properly again. Back when she was younger she had been able to enter a trance like state and actually heal her wounds in the process, but she had lost that ability when she had taken the oath of a Reaver and drank the dragon's blood mixture that granted her the powers.

As Larka walked her nose caught a very nice scent, something was cooking, smelled like fish, which she liked, cooking on a fire. Unwittingly she started to follow the scent, otherwise ignoring those around her until she found the source of the mouth watering scent. ”Orc!” She snarled in half a second had her blade drawn and staring at the orc with all the hatred that she had in her. Larka hated orcs with every tiny part of her body and would go into insta-kill mode when she saw one. People stopped to watch but for the moment no one moved to stop Larka as she carefully started to walk towards the greenskin, they stood at the same height in fact, but while he had a lot more muscle than she did Larka was betting she was a lot faster than he was. She was also used to fighting orcs, in fact the only time in her life she had left a fight with orcs alive was because they had cut her arm off and killed her first wife and kids at their home.

Larka had survived and had made it her mission to kill every one that she saw on sight.

In her anger, what wasn't clicking was that this one in the middle of some elves and they weren't bothering him, which may mean that they knew he was peaceful for his kind. Nope, Larka didn't notice at all and the look on her grey eyes showed that she was ready to kill.

[OOC: Looks like today's going to be one of those days for Delanac, isn't it? :P]

Watching fish smoke was about as bad as watching paint dry, though in this case the paint would be done well before the fish. Delanac yawned and stretched his arms before continuing his rather boring vigil over the smoking barrel. About to nod off, he heard an unfamiliar voice full of spite and seething anger. "Orc!" Being from Yovaesh, he learned quickly that outside of the artisan guilds on the island people didn't take too kindly to folk like him in most places. It didn't matter how well-bred or learned you were. As soon as they saw his swarthy skin and stocky build, they either screamed in terror or in rage. Most decent folk would at least apologize or look the other way when he mentioned his hometown, but not everyone. He even received condescending and unfriendly looks from elves every now and again. Mostly the older folk, thankfully. There was bad blood between elves and orcs, as long as people could remember. But just because some pillagers and tribes went head-to-head didn't mean every orc was related.

"Flippin' 'ell mun!" He shouted narrowly evading a stab from a nasty weapon which would've went clean through his shoulder. There was no mistake–this woman was out for blood. Looking around he saw the distinct lack of law enforcement, which either meant apathy or self-preservation. He was betting on the latter, as it was clear why no guards were stepping in. Nothing personal, just a natural response when a stranger filled with bloodlust comes out swinging. She was wickedly fast, and utterly terrifying. It was like hate was radiating off of her. He was kept on his toes, and managed to grab his shield to block another fatal blow. When the blade bit into the tourmaline and metal he felt the shield shudder with the impact. It bore an awful gash on the metalwork, but it was doing its job.

Ducking, bobbing, weaving, dodging, twisting, and turning every which way his gaze happened to fall on his makeshift barrel smoker for a split second to see a gaping hole in the wall. Out of fear of being murdered in cold blood and the dawning realization that his smoking trout would be ruined, Delanac shouted: "THE FISH–Oh gods why?!!" Screaming in terror and dismay he kept running from the armed woman hell-bent on gutting him like the trout he caught this morning. "What do you want from me?!" He yelled. To be fair, at this point Delanac wasn't expecting an answer.

[OOC: Yup :P Oh, idea!]
Larka'a anger blinded her somewhat with her sword work, he kept dodging around her attacks and finally grabbed a shield and using it to block her sword. Though did leave a good gash in the metal work which made her grin, enjoying the idea breaking past his shield and into his chest. In all of this, in the back her mind, Larka did notice that he hadn't fought back, part of her thought because he was too scared to, but that didn't seem like normal orc behaviour. He had grabbed a shield, not a sword or other weapon, when he was able to and was defending himself and backing away, never making an attempt at retaliation.When he yelled back what she wanted from him Larka did answer him, though not in the way he was probably hoping. ”Your head!” Larka bellowed back as she twisted her wrist and her sword suddenly came apart into about a dozen segments connected by metal cables and as she started to get the weapon moving again it was acting more like a whip than a sword. A whip that gave her a greater reach and was made out of razor sharp blades, it was a perfect weapon for a woman with one arm. Light and it gave her the range to keep enemies back, or, in this case, try and reel them in for a killing blow since it only took a split second for the sword to snap back to normal again.What Larka was also not seeing were the two heavily armoured elf knights behind her, attracted by the noise and some of the people. The orc hadn't been bothering anyone, and this crazy human started to attack him, apparently only because he was an orc. Larka swung her weapon back but one of the elves managed to get a short sword breaker style sword out and catch the Larka, so when Larka pulled back to swing at the orc she was unable.Looking back to she saw the elf fighting with her for control of the sword. He was stronger and was dragging Larka back and his partner started to come forward to grab her directly. Larka suddenly released the sword, putting the other elf off balance, and caught the one coming at her off guard when she did a bicycle kick at his face. Her height, weight and the speed she was able to pick up in that short distance allowed her to get a good force built up as she rammed the bottom of her booted foot into his helmeted face. The elf went down hard and with a clatter of armour and Larka turned her attention to the one that was now in possession of her sword.She went to draw the rapier she was also wearing at her side when he did some fancy hand motion and threw a spell at her. Larka felt the tingle before the paralyzing spell hit her and she cried out as her body convulsed for a moment and she went down hard to the ground. He quickly went over while his buddy started to get up with a sore face, and removed the rapier from Larka's belt, the whole time her eyes still showed anger and she was fighting against the spell since he was channelling it into her to keep her down.With the human secured the elf looked to the orc. ”Orc, she attacked you first, what do you want us to do?” He said, giving the orc the chance to decide what should be done.[OOC: And now Larka's having a bad day :P]

Delanac's face made a grimace as he received a reply to his question. She was one of those headhunters. Just his luck. He was sure sooner or later he would get pushed into a corner where he couldn't back away anymore, when the local guards finally stepped in. The woman still put up a fight, clearly not happy she was being interrupted and gave one of the two a good beating before they used magic to paralyze her. "Thank the gods…" He muttered as she finally was made still for a moment. The guards then asked him what he wanted to do seeing he was attacked without provocation. Still wary of the currently-paralyzed woman, he said slowly. "Well…you could keep her in a cell for a couple a days 'til she cools down." That should give him enough time to leave and be on his way to avoid another run-in.

Normally when somebody was angry at him he'd try to talk with them, but seeing how mad this woman was he wasn't to keen on the idea. Best to leave things as they were, and avoid this one. When a person was this mad, it'd take more than just a talk to get them to give up on it. He sighed, looking at the shattered remains of his smoker barrel. "There goes my three hours of fishing…the smoker's completely knackered too." Reaching inside he found the fillets, still not fully done. He'd just have to pan-fry them now or they'd go to waste. The barrel and set up was thoroughly ruined, so the most he could do would be to scrap what wasn't usable and keep the rest. Scratching the back of his head he began cleaning up the mess, still keeping a close eye on the one-armed woman who still wanted his head on a platter.

[OOC: And now that I know what causes a post to look like my past one, I won't do that again :P Sorry for the giant paragraph before!]

Larka stared daggers at the orc as he spoke to lock her up for a few days while she cooled off. Like that would happen! The two elf guards nodded to the orc as they went to collect Larka from the ground, one of them grabbed her arm and hauled her up to her feet, though he had to hang on since she was unable to move her legs. She was heavier than she seemed, and taller than to the elf to boot, so he was having a balancing issue. The one that Larka had stuck picked up her swords before they started to cry and cart her away.

”Need to watch your temper there, lass, no need to be killing randomly, no matter how much you don't like his kind.” The elf dragging her said as he looked to her and Larka spat in his face. He hadn't expected it and was surprised and let her go to wipe it off, in that time he lost concentration on his spell for a moment and Larka's anger gave her the mental strength needed to shatter the spell totally.

The elf realized his mistake too late as Larka's fist caught him in the back of the neck forcing him to look down as her knee came up to meet his face. He went down out cold with a bloody nose as his partner turned to help at the noise, dropping Larka's gear before he was able to draw his own weapon. Larka was on him before he could. She leaped at him, getting her knees in his chest and hand around his head and pulled back, dragging him down with her. She landed on her back but all his weight and the force of the drop went into his chest and took the wind from him even through his armour. He didn't fall, managing to keep himself up right while he wheezed to get his breath back as Larka was on her feet already. She ran at him and making to run past pulled his helm off and took a hold of his hair as she jumped up again and pulled his hair down. Lark landed with a thud on her butt, which did hurt her a little, but he, again, landed on his face into the ground.

When next Larka stood she had the rapier sheathed and her normal blade back into her hands as she turned and went after the orc again. But instead of going right up to try and kill him, she yelled at him, stopping well out her sword's reach from him. ”Fight me! Draw you weapon and FIGHT ME!” She yelled at the end, shaking with her anger as she watched him and waited. She wanted a fight, she had decided that she didn't want to just gut him like a fish with no fight. No, she wanted a fight so that she could savour it as he wore him down and gave him a death by a thousand cuts.

[OOC: I've had that happen twice to me before! Turns out BBCode lumps it all together when you copy/paste.]

Delanac felt sweat break out on the back of his neck when she broke free, which wasn't too much of a surprise seeing how badly she gave the two armored guards a beating. The woman–still mad, demanded him to fight her. Normally he'd be upset enough to argue, but seeing how much damage was done to his work he didn't have any fight left in him. Looking up at her while still crouched over the shattered barrel, he took a deep breath. Putting his head in his hands, he let out a long groan as he pulled his hands down his face. The look of utter defeat and despair was in his eyes as he slowly stood up. 

"Thanks to this mess here, I've got no fight to give. Look, if you're so itching to give me a shank in the ribs–ye might as well done it already." He wrung his hands then pointed at the ruined smoker. "I just lost 'bout six hours of me life in the span of fifteen minutes: three hours just for a poor measly catch of fish, and three an' a half for a batch of partway-smoked fillets. Would've been nine to ten hours, if there wasn't for this new hole in it." Pulling out a partially translucent, orange-tinged piece of meat he sighed again and dropped it back into the broken smoker. "The process of smoking's supposed to take at least twelve, add on to that how long it takes to catch, clean, and cut the things. Here I was thinkin' I'd have a taste before sundown. Proper knackered, it is. Can't even use it for anything now. Now I'll just have to start all over–bright and early again tomorrow morning." 

The thought of having to repeat that grueling, time consuming process was enough to give him a pained look like a farmer who had seen a herd of deer trample a batch of seedlings underfoot. Giving up on attempting to salvage the ruined smoked trout, he sat down and put his head in his hands. "It's over, it's all over. Knickers…should've just fried it with egg and oil. Six hours and not even a bite to show for it." Sure experimenting with new recipes would involve some failures, but not having eaten anything since breakfast after so much anticipation was a great disappointment.

[OOC:  If you copy/paste from word one paragraph at a time it works :)]

Larka watched as the orc looked at her while he crouched over something, but instead of drawing a weapon he placed his face in his hands let out a long groan.  He slowly stood and he looked defeated already.  Why?!  Why was he not drawing a weapon to defend himself?  He started to talk instead and Larka only stared at him as he listened, what was he talking about?  He looked in the direction he was pointing but didn't know what it was he was pointing at, she could see some ruined thing on the ground.  She must have kicked it stepped on it when she attacked him.

His little rant of what she had done, six hours wasted, he was smoking fish?!  Larka had a look of utter confusion on her face as he spoke, this was not what she had expected from the orc, or wanted.  "What are you talking about?!"  Larka questioned sounding very confused as she stepped forward once.  "I attack you, try and kill you and all you're worried about is you damned fish?"  She continued throwing her hand up in the air as she watched him, she still wanted to kill him, bu the urge, and her anger, were fading with her confusion about what was going on.  She still had her sword in her hand her as she spoke, flailing it a little as she spoke.  "So, you spent all that time on catching the fish, cleaning them, making the smoker, and I ruined it and instead of fighting me you look like you're about to have a cry instead."  The hell kind of land was this place?!  Larka had seen a lot in her life, but this was on a whole new level of weird for her.

So he wasn't going to fight, in fact he looked more like he was almost ignoring her now as he spoke to himself.  Her anger now fizzled Larka sheathed her sword and walked over to him.  But, instead of doing anything against him she eyed what was left of the smoker and went to kick it again.  Why?  For spite, and it made her feeling a little better.  "Fine, I won't kill you this time, since you won't fight me, but at least I can ruin your damn day."  Larka grumbled before she turned and started to walk away from this place before the guards got up, or more showed up.  She figured she'd give them a few days to cool down and forget about her before she came back to this area.

She took the canteen from its place hanging on her backpack and took a gulp of the rum, that felt a little better.