“Alright,” I said, looking at the green-skinned newcomer. “You are…?”
“Zarfu Lightbringer,” he said, leaning back in his seat.
I nodded, looking at him closely. He was built like any other orc: sinews and muscles competing for space, and with a wicked set of tusks that, oddly enough, looked good on him. His hair was shoulder-length, braided with copper wiring. He was shirtless; his left shoulder covered with swirling tattoos that extended to the chest.
“And the reason why you are here is…?”
He shrugged. “Moose said you needed an orc here.”
I looked at Moose. “Really?”
He nodded and shrugged. “Well, I thought he would be an interesting person to have around the house.”
I sighed. Already the house was crowded. First were Moose’s so-called sons, all of them running all over the place and messing the house up. Now this orc, who, I may confess to you reader, looked pretty awesome.
“Mind me asking why you are called ‘Lightbringer’?” I asked to the orc.
He smiled and raised a hand. A moment later, an orb of sparkling energy appeared. “I bring forth the lightning,” he said.
“He’s apparently a lightning mage,” Moose said. He wrapped an arm around Zarfu’s shoulders, who snarled a bit but didn’t do anything else. “Also a weatherweaver.”
“Which means?” I asked.
Zarfu clenched his fist around the orb, the energy harmlessly dissipating. “I call down the rains and the storms. However, I can make them go away if you want to.”
“Perfect for your roses,” Moose said, rubbing Zarfu’s shoulders and smiling hugely.
“Fine!” I said, rubbing my forehead in exasperation. “He can stay. I just need to find where to put him.”
Zarfu shook off Moose’s arm and stood up. He leaned over and grinned toothily. “I’m sure your bed is a good place to stay, hm?”
“No,” I said flatly.
“Really?” He extended a hand towards me, and I saw blue sparks gather around his fingers. “You can change your mind if you want.”
“Now, dude,” Moose said, gently pushing the hand down, “don’t threaten him. It’s his house after all.”
The orc’s eyes narrowed, and he pressed the other hand against Moose’s chest. With a burst of yellow energy, Moose turned into a solid fluffmonster, his fur crackling with static.
“DUDE!” Moose said, trying to pat down his fur and getting shocked in the process. “Not fair, dude! After all the work I put into inviting you here!”
Zarfu glared at me, his eyes a mix of amusement and anger. “I will deal with you later.” And he stomped out of the room.
“He does have a nice rump,” I said to Moose as I eyed the retreating figure. Then I sighed. “Looks like we have someone else to deal with. Hm.”
“Sorry-,” Moose started, but I waved aside the apology.
“No, it’s okay. We did need an orc here.” I closed my eyes in thought. “I think I’ll enjoy him here.”