The Chronicles of Runic #2

Runic returns on his quest to find the dillo rustlers! Grab a donut, sit back, and have a read...

This tumerok gal, she comes up to me in Whitebay while I'm still staring at the phallic lugian lifestone, figuring that maybe those big brutes have something they are trying to compensate for. She tells me I'm pretty big for a 'hooman'. She's right too. I've met a Lugian or two that I could look square in the eye. She tells me a strapping hooman like myself might be exactly what she needs to finish a little something for her pop on the homefront. I say okay if she'll do a little something for me. And no, I don't mean that. I've got my own agenda.

Course, I can't tell a tumerok Betty from a Bob but I knew when to let a hook of good luck drag me along. I think it's the gals that have those spikes that drive the Bobs all wild. Me? I think we Humans must be the only ones that got it right. Who's to let something like that get in the way of finishing something you start, though?

So when this Tumerok asks for a hand, Betty or Bob I can't tell, I say yes. It might just be taking me in the wrong direction but I sniffed a clue here and wanted to see where it took me.

"The Gurog have been receiving big shipments from Omishan," she said, maybe just to get me to tag along. "Lots of strange things, feed, leather harnesses, things like that."

The Burun importing husbandry gear? Was a tough call to make. Could be someone was raising dillos, could be their Gurog masters were trying to liven up their nightlives.

So this Tumerok Betty asks for my help. Some moarsman thug has been muscling folks in Hakata, looking to establish himself, threatening little businesses. Must be like squeezing slime from a stone, I figure, but he does it anyways. They call him the Chief. If a fancy title like that comes from bossing around some tailors and knife-sharpeners, I must be in the wrong trade. Still, we decide to go check it out.

There ain't much to Hakata. It is mostly a collection of little shops selling their wares at discount prices, discontinued stuff, a lot of second-rate junk. When we portal into town, the locals know right where he is. Turns out he's set up shop in one of the old outposts on the ringway.

Me and the tumie gal and giant of a Tumerok fella head over to his place to see what the deal is. He's layin back in some bubbling swampy pool like moarsmen like to do. Just by looking at him you can tell he's not the fastest boots in the closet. The tumie fella and I drag him outta the pool, holding our breath at the stench. Then the Betty starts in on him like Old Scratch himself.

"You like pickin' on little old Tumeroks?" she said, socking his slimy gut once. "Did you think you could just stroll into town and everyone would shower you with money?" She socked him twice again. Pow pow. Lightning quick, that little tumie lady.

"Please," the Chief hissed. "It's the Burun. Their squeezing me outta my profits."

"Profits?" She cracked his nose with a fierce right hook.

I twisted the poor sap's fin behind his back, pulling it up until his mouth opened and no sound was coming out. "The Burun?" I said at last. "What are they up to?"

He grunted and looked at the ground with bloodied eyes. "There's a browerk Burun they call The Chief..."

"How many Chiefs are there?" I said with a snort. "What about this big Chief fella?"

"He's handling all the goods on the east side. He'll give you all the answers you want."

The tumie gal got up in his face, sneering all mean-like with a look that could send a fella right to the lifestone. "I don't wanna ever hear your name again, little Chief."

She gave him another good punch in the gut and left him balled up beside his stinky pool. None of us felt too good when we stepped away, a little woozy from the stench, maybe. Still, I had a lead and I was gonna need some help checking it out. The Burun are no one you want to go messing with by yourself. My tumie friends agreed to help, of course, since I'd give them a little muscle to start with. They weren't the types to back down from a fight, I could tell.

And we all knew we were in for a fight...

Runic will be back so don't go anywhere! Have fun with the new patch, all!

Gurog Grunts appears every Monday here on AC2 Warcry. The opinions expressed here belong to the gruntmaster himself, Theiss. If you wish to grunt about his grunts, grunt to Theiss at editor@warcry.com. Who IS this Runic fella?