The Orcish Heptathlon

If I remember correctly I have already told you that I am about to write a book about the origins of orcs. Here is a short excerpt that deals with orc sports in particular.

Whenever two tribes meet this does not necessarily end in hostility. Fellow tribes usually celebrate their meeting with some competitive fighting, called the Glorious Games. Competitions might vary in form but the following is an often observed version:

1. Carry the family

This is to be taken literally. The whole family has to be carried over a set distance. Whether all members cling to the strongest at once or the fastest member carries each one separately is up to the families participating. Important is that only one member is allowed to do the carrying, no part of any other body must touch the ground. Childless monogamists are disqualified by rule and tribal honour. The number of family members is not as important as the overall weight of the whole bunch, so three really fat children count as much as six skinny ones, for example.

If I may be allowed a personal note here: The last time I entered into this special competition, I carried two of my wives on my back, the youngest child clung to my leg, and another tried to balance on my head. Unfortunately it covered my eyes with its arms and I stumbled into a river instead of reaching the finishing line, being not only disqualified but also very humiliated.

read-along part 4

Before I continue with my views on the book let me confide something.
Reading about all of Mrs. Bennet's daughters put me in a strange kind of mood. I miss them, my own daughters I mean. Not that I wish to be with them (my nerves are just as strained as poor Mrs. Bennet's), but still. It's not an easy task to find a proper husband for any of them. To be honest, I had left it mostly to themselves to find one. Well, I more or less pushed two of them into the tents of my friends (the tribe's cleric and Noden). It goes like this: if they don't get out immediately that counts as marriage. At least where I come from. This whole courtship-thingy sounds very tiresome. And it's getting poor Mrs. Bennet nowhere. The husband is basically useless. I wonder if my wives regard me as such a lazy bugger. Should I have taken more responsibility to get rid of the girls? To be honest I don't want to get rid of Shonka. She'll make a great warrior one day, pretty much already is a frightful sight to behold. And she doesn't fancy male orcs anyway. Oh, hang on! Maybe that's at the root of Mr. Darcy's problems with women. He might fancy his friend more than the ladies. Would explain a lot. Let's see how the story unfolds:

Read-along part 1

Chapter One
Obviously. I flipped through the pages and realized to my utter horror that there are more chapters than I can count. And it was such a thin book...
Anyway, chapter one.
I am very much with Mrs. Bennet here. Blessed (or rather cursed) with approximately five daughters myself I can absolutely relate to her problem. That she needs to urge her husband to get rid of the girls makes me wonder about his common sense.
Other than that I am already confused with all the different names. I can hardly remember all the names of my own offspring (often enough I don't). But I find it highly disturbing that the young man who's going to live in the neighbourhood is totally oblivious to the dangers awaiting him. On the other hand, had he been warned, Mrs. Bennet wouldn't stand the slightest chance to burden him with one of her girls.
The strangest thing is this: although it is only written words I feel like I know exactly what Mrs. Bennet's voice would sound like. And this makes me feel for her husband a bit as well (NOT in a sissy way, shut up!). If her voice hurts only half as much as my wives' voices hurt in my ears, I can understand why he tries to avoid any form of conversation with her. Quietude is a blessing lost to all of us fathers.
So, if you've read this chapter of Pride & Prejudice tell me what you think. I hope you are spared the disturbing images in your mind of orcs in regency dresses. I shall never recover from that.

Like I promised (or threatened), this is a short description of my comrades:

Noden the Sorcerer
He is tiny for an orc. But he is also my son-in-law, so you better not say anything about his height. By the way, the phrase "son-in-law" just proves that the human language is entirely inadequate to explain orc matters.
Noden is quite clever and has a slightly unhealthy (i.e. unorcish) sense of fashion. I mean, he wears a shiny golden belt, braids his hair and wears a tattoo of his wife's name on his back (which is my daughter, just in case you forgot as I do occasionally).
He also has the unfortunate tendency to throw his fireballs towards his comrades, but that is a story for another day. And don't, I mean DON'T assume "fireballs" is a euphemism. It isn't. Like I said, he's tiny.