Is this a sword? That is open to debate. In my eyes, yes it is a sword.
This cleaver is a brutish weapon, designed for one thing: Chopping stuff. As you can see it lacks the refined details of most of my other works. The wrapped leather handle’s there, but apart from that this sword could almost have been created by anyone.
It was created by the vile blacksmiths of the Orklin race. Vicious, green skinned, with big fangs sticking upwards. These creatures hail from the lands to the West. A desolate place of no plants and gravel. Like the Giants to the North, the Orklins lack the intellectual refinement of the humans, and rely on brute strength in combat. They are slightly smaller than most men, and hunched, but they’re pretty solid too. The blade thickens to the top, making it top heavy, though the three holes at the back of the blade help balance the weapon. The orklins don’t realise this though and put heavy silver rings through the holes, completely unbalancing it again. The meaning of these rings is unknown, but there are hushed reports from scouts that some orklins have been seen to stick their dicks in them or rub them on their fannies.
That’s right, female orklin’s are just as vicious as the men, and sometimes better warriors. Their main attacks are to pull hair and scratch. But they’re also pretty mean with the cleaver. When not using it to cut up and prepare rats for cooking stew, they use them to chop whatever meagre wood the males can bring home, to use as cutlery. They also use them to scrape dust off their floors because they haven’t invented dust pans and brushes. As a result most orkling women are filthy, usually with at least one wailing orklinling suckling sour milk from their small, flat breasts.
Woe betide any human who set’s foot over an orkling dwelling’s threshold however. There’s an old Human saying “all women hath more fury than the hells”. Well if an orkling woman found so much as one boot-shaped dusty footprint on her floor, the human would almost welcome such a maids company! One early dignitary was lucky to escape with only two arms lost after he accidentally insulted the main wife (they can have more than one wife) of chieftain Mug’gurk’lurkiblurk by spitting his rat stew on the floor (he actually liked the taste but got his customs mixed up with that of the Gorks, a vicious, blue-skinned race from the Eastern lands).
Despite from this diplomatic incident, it is a time of unsteady peace between the humans and the orklins. Trade has been good -the orklins lands have an abundance of natural gas which the human alchemists use in their hellish experiments. The humans trade back with ladles, aprons, garlic crushers and other “essential” kitchen accessories.
Will this peace last? Only time will tell 😉
P.S As promised here’s my shortlist of names for my world:
The Fore Continents
The Early Places