The following story (384 words) takes place in the setting of a pen-and-paper roleplaying game I'm currently playing, a world of sword and sorcery at the beginning of an industrial revolution.
Anya Greenhanded had seen the orcs the previous evening. She'd watched them out of sight, prepared to grab whatever she could carry and run, but they'd passed by and gone on their way. Or so she thought. Now here was this lone orc returning up the track. Anya walked to the fenceline, keeping a firm grip on her hayfork.
"Afternoon," she said, warily, but not aggressively. The orc smiled. Or perhaps it was a snarl. Or a grimace.
"Good afternoon, farmer!" Its voice was smoother than she'd expected. Cultured. It sounded almost like one of the merchants from the city. "I hope I find you well?"
Anya grunted noncommittally.
"My name is Mork Randalar. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"Greenhanded. What can I do for you, Mork the orc?"
The orc's smile froze for an instant. Its true nature showing through?
"You may have seen my friends and I passing nearby last night? About sunset, it would have been? No matter. We observed your farm as we passed. Your cattle, particularly. And I couldn't help but notice one with a pure white face. A very fine cow, if you don't mind my saying."
Anya looked across at the paddock. There was a cow that fit the description, standing a little apart from the others. Probably the only reason the orc had singled it out. But why? Did it want to buy a cow? Not likely. Everyone knew orcs had no money.
The orc followed her gaze. "Ah, yes! That is the very one! Quite admirable!"
She shrugged. "I s'pose."
"It must make you quite the envy of your neighbours?"
The orc tilted its head. Almost like a confused puppy. It seemed to expect something of her.
"Yep," she said. "Sure is a good cow. Was there anything else you wanted or did you just come here for some idle chat about cattle? Because I've got work to do."
The orc frowned. "No. Nothing. Well, good day."
And with that it turned and walked back the way it had come.
Later that afternoon as the orcs explored the Greenhanded farm (its owner and her employees having put up only the briefest of resistance), Mork remarked to Kurd "I don't know why she didn't just give us the cow. Humans are very strange."
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