The Long Tail of Orobos
Letter from Orobos Dishman (The introduction)
Warmest regards and intimate salutations my friends! The dawn of a new day has arisen, and it is ours to seize. Let us engorge ourselves with glory and push through the soft and supple weakness of our enemies!
Let me introduce myself. I am Orobos, the finest lover in all the seven lands. I wield steel almost as well, but the gossip of a few hundred ladies spread much farther than a thousand dead-men's tales. I look forward to reaching Ikalak to press-the-flesh in person.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman
The line of women was long. Far too long to make it to Ikalak within a few days. Orobos hoped the road between Korlok and Ikalak wasn't so choked up that it kept everyone else backed up. He needed to get to the capital, like all the Ikalakians....but duty always seemed to call.
Orobos was in a cunundrum. So many things to do.-
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman (After 'the long day' during the start of War Islands)
Orobos dunked himself into a nearby stream with abandonment. The cool water eased the tenderness he had, gained by tenderness given to others. Rising like a glistening marble sculpture, he looked queerly at the sun.
"By the long gods! It is still day? What manner of sorcery is this? Surely a thousand women are satisfied in no less than a few days and nights." he mused to himself. "Some Siren has bewitched the sun!"
Gathering his kit, and making sure he was still unseen by eager eyes, he led his horse quietly off the beaten road. He already needed to begin the dirty deeds of the sword...the strangeness of the 'long day' added additional weight to his need to escape the throngs of women gathered for him. Still dressing, he though; If even one recognizes me, her screams of glee would draw...
"ITS HIM, THE GREAT SNAKE! COME 'ERE LOVER-BOY!" a rosy voice chimed the alarm. Then a great host of supple bodies came surging forth from the trees like a stampede of estrogen.
Orobos jumped atop his horse and made a mad dash toward Ikalak, leaving his men on the road. He was lucky that many of the women in pursuit already had much difficulty walking. Those left unsated would be more difficult to evade.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman (During a RP meet and greet)
The door to the event hall flung open and banged against the wall, alerting all the patrons. A dirty and ragged man flung himself with the door and immediately flung it shut and bolted it, panting for breath. Once secured, he crept to a window and peeked out into the street.
Realizing the onlookers behind him, he gestured a finger to his lips and let out a quiet 'shhh', then returned to looking out the window. In a minutes time, a column of thousands of women of every shape, age, and caste could be seen running through the street. Obviously hunting something, the eagerness and desperation in their eyes could be seen even from afar.
Passing in their hurried search, Orobos left the window as he lost sight of the tail-end of the menagerie of women. Looking back to the shocked onlookers in the hall, he ran a hand through his hair and gave a elaborate bow.
"Apologies for such an intrusion. I am Orobos Dishman. I had hoped to join the party in better fair, but my horse gave out under me in my flight from the harpies. I'm not so familiar with marathons on foot, and am utterly exhausted."
Letting out a brief chuckle, he continued "Is there a back entrance I could take? A warm fire and a less eventful setting would do my bone(s) wonders."
Request from Orobos Dishman
Vote for the insatiable snake, the greatest lover of the seven lands, the only man capable of administering a truly great penal system!
Name: Orobos Dishman
Position desired: Judge
What your policy would be for the office: It is every nobles prerogative to accept/decline a tangle with another. Duels will be allowed. Although the use of every nobles mouth should be unrestrained, it is important to keep its use fairly clean in public. Slander and vitriol will not be allowed in public discourse. The administration of the dungeon is the highest task of a war Judge. I will make personal visits to the patrons of my dungeon.
Why you are best suited to receive the appointment: Because I know how to get what I want while at the same time giving what everyone else wants. I am no politician to be bought by gold, no priest to be encumbered by mysticism...I am the great snake...all will walk a shameful walk from the dungeon of carnal ecstasy.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman (During public dialogue, jests at Lord Typhus's height also referenced the Snake)
Quote: Of course it is impossible for the dwarf to 'rise up' to the challenge. Sir Orobos, however...
Having lost the Judge election, Orobos once again tended to the womenfolk of Ikalak. A city bloc had to be sectioned off to form an orderly line...the smell coming off the throng was both intoxicating and horrifying.
Sitting up in the bed in a quaint tavern room, Orobos proclaimed "My ears are burning..".
Four long haired heads pop immediately out of the covers, looking at each other. One looks abashed, and pleads "Sorry gov, 'ta doctor swores it wasd't communicapable".
Request from Orobos Dishman (Personal message to Xander Kabrinski (Lord of Ikalak))
A poem, as my candidacy for Lord of Ikalak:
My sweet cream brings all the girls to the field, His, they say, is quite better than thours, Verily, it is better than thours.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman (During a RP meeting between council members of the realm)
Outside the window to the meeting, a familiar sight can be seen. Orobos running down the streets of Ikalak, fleeing a great host of women. Like a lewd marathon of women, with the only man running as its leader, the scene passed into view and out without notice from those speaking.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman Orobos peeked up out of a local stream with a reed sticking out of his mouth, tilting his features to one angle. After a few blinks, he re-submerged with barely a ripple.
Near the bank were his men, gesturing that their commander was gone. The large crowd of women were all irate, and continually looked towards the stream as if they could sense him. What had become a large marathon in Ikalak had become a forced march/route by the Band of the White Snake from an army onto itself of pure estrogen.
Swimming cautiously under the water in torn and ragged regalia, Orobos mused to himself. I'm certainly in it without a paddle. I don't have my cloak, can't hide my face, and there are too many to slip by. Now that word was out that the great Snake marched with Ikalak, the roads were not safe for a man of his affliction. When he would not stop to form ordely lines of satiation, they became ravenous beasts...seeking only to make two backs. As always, I'm f'd. He would just have to let them march without him. His captain could cloak himself, and no one would really know the difference. It wasn't like he had met anyone really.
Peeking one more time, he saw the women had begun fanning out to search the stream. Slipping back down under the water, he swam away from the hungry women. His men couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
Letter from Orobos Dishman (Upon the change of Allegiance of Korlock)
Salutations and warm offerings; I am Orobos, the insatiable snake, the finest lover of the seven lands. Once a knight of Ikalak, my liege has had the foresight to abandon the realm that abandoned itself, and find better bedfellows who might put their mouths to better use!
Although much of my time in Ikalak was spent running from hordes of farmers daughters, disgruntled housewives, and miscellaneous groupies...the nobles of Ikalak never acknowledged me. I suppose they never could get a good grip on the snake, and simply let their limp bickering distract them from trying. Because of this, Sandalak has penetrated deep into the very guts of their city. I applaud your vigor!
I look forward to pressing the flesh in person once I arrive at the capital.
Roleplay from Orobos Dishman (The curse revealed)
Wandering the streets of his new capital, Orobos kept his face concealed by his cloak. He had bid his captain Luitpold to gather recruits and repairs, but wandered alone as to avoid attention. He was cursed, and only the hood of his cloak could guard him. The less conspicuous the less likely of a carnal riot, he mused in his head.
He could see the feminine passersby sniff the air, grow anxious from his passing. The name of the insatiable snake had not traveled this far south, but that did not matter. The very air around him stirred in women a kind of longing. Through his travels, he had learned that many animals found mates through musk and scent....but it was his face that had been cursed. A curse that would evoke pity from King Midas.
By all the gods, I should not have bedded that witch. Long ago, he had been nothing more than a street urchin who could woo a lady if he scrubbed himself clean enough. Then he came across a wandering women who dealt in trinkets and novelties. He didn't think they were magical, but probably worth a pretty copper. The lass was pretty enough and he had seduced her. It was a common grief that he used, robbing widows and maidens as he snuck out after a 'lively' night. The witch hadn't slept as soundly as his other marks, though. The arcane words spouted from her mouth had scared him less then than the broad knife she had pulled as he ran like a thief in the night.
That morning he learned that the knife wasn't her real weapon. At first, it was great fun. Women flocked to him. He didn't even have to use a wink or a smile like he used to, just seeing his face would gather a crowd of female suitors. In no time, he had a new name and had a title granted to him by a noble widow. The world presented itself to him....and that was the curse.
As time went on, the women became more aggressive (and more numerous). Armies onto themselves had chased him from town to town in a march of skirts and lipstick, trying to bed him whether he desired it or not. It seemed, another part of the curse, was that he could not refuse. Desire consumed him once their desire was on him. Even stamina and vigor cursed him...at least in the aftereffects of soreness and chaffing.
He turned a corner and bumped into a drunkard. As he fell to the ground, his hood flew backward and he looked upward. It was too late, female eyes were drawn to his face and a dozen women began to descend upon him. Getting to his feet and barreling down the streets, his face remained exposed. A dozen became a score. After a few blocks it had become many, many scores. He hoped that his men could meet him on the road...and that the women of Sandalak weren't known for feats of foot.
Request from Orobos Dishman (Campaigning for judge)
Vote for the Insatiable Snake for Loremaster!
Orobos has the best command of the penal system imaginable...ask any farmer's daughter! That is, if they aren't still out of breath! Fairness is the utmost prerequisite for a Judge, a non-bias administration of an even hand, a firm grip, yet a gentle touch...all the things required of a dungeon master (and any lover worth his salt).
Oh, but you say, how would he have the time? Between marching and wooing and bedding, how could any man be up for such a task? No fret, Orobos is always up for the task. With a little decor, a torture chamber can be an enticing vacation spot for any Ikkie/Tassie noblewoman! A rack is something to be enjoyed, not something to inflict punishment!