Do Banga’s Pit.
So was called the gargantuan sky-facing crater found at the peak of Mount Lind, which was geographically located straight northwards from Siwanasi Forest.
It was created when Mount Lind, a dormant volcano, was awoken by the shockwaves that spread deep beneath the ground during the duel between the Ogre Warrior Gugugora and the Dwarven Prince Bongo Bongo.
Bongo Bongo was caught up in the eruption, and Gugugora ended up being the victor of their fight.
The Ogres subsequently seized this newly created crater as their territory, building fortifications and shelter, and used it to spearhead their operations.
Back then, it was called the “Lind Fortress.”
The Seven Race Federation used this newly erected fortress as a basecamp in order to launch an invasion deep into Alliance territory, winning many battles as a result.
However, the fortress eventually fell.
The individual that laid his claim to the Ogrish bastion was a stupendously skilled warrior who would later be nicknamed the “War Fiend”.
Leading a small band of Dwarven Warriors, he struck the Ogres straight on, fast, hard, and without any tricks nor cunning.
In the penultimate battle for the fortress, he faced the Ogre General in singular combat and decisively defeated him, occupying the castle.
The Dwarf who managed to capture the Ogrish fortress beating all odds…
…His name was Doradora Do Banga, the “War Fiend”.
More and more Dwarves settled within Lind Fortress, in due course building a city within its natural walls.
Eventually, the crater formally became part of Doradora Do Banga’s domain and was aptly named “Do Banga’s Pit.”
Bash and Zell were currently on the path leading to said Do Banga’s Pit.
“There it is.”
White plumes of thick smoke rose over the horizon, all coming from the peak of Mount Lind.
It seemed as if the entire mountain was a boiling cauldron, steam floating upwards from its wide mouth.
Though one might assume this was due to the settlement being located on a literal volcano, none of this billowing smog was natural.
This town was inhabited by a majority Dwarven population.
Nearly all Dwarves were blacksmith – as a hobby if not by trade, and every family had their own workshop.
The smoke floating up from the mountain was due to their forges and furnaces.
“Ah, I’ve missed this place. I used to get lost all the time in here.”
Dwarven cities were built like anthills.
These short-statured people would settle on (or rather in) hills and mountains, tunneling through the earth to build their homes.
As a result of every inhabitant hollowing out the land at their leisure, their towns usually became sprawling labyrinths and nigh unnavigable natural defensive positions.
Security through obscurity was still security, after all.
Bash had participated in several battles within Do Banga’s Pit, but all he could scrounge out from the depth of his mind were his memories of being lost.
Once, he hadn’t been able to leave for three whole nights and days. He had no way of contacting the outside world, and the allied troops had been scattered by the sporadic battles. The Orc Hero had no choice but to keep fighting on a battlefield where he didn’t even know whether his struggling comrades were still alive.
It was a rather painful memory.
“Huh?! Mister, you got lost in there?”
Zell remembered it differently.
From her point of view, Bash had always been able to return to camp without any difficulty.
“Yeah. Constantly.”
“Whoa, you always managed to come back, and you never looked like you had any trouble, mister! I always thought you knew the whole layout by heart! Like the back of your hand!”
“There’s no way that’d be true.”
Of course, Bash in no capacity knew everything about the Dwarven city’s structure.
Whenever he was lost, hungry, or in otherwise desperate straits, the Orc would break straight through the walls to escape.
No matter where or how deep he was underground, he would eventually reach the surface if he dug diagonally upwards.
Incidentally, this often led to catastrophic structural collapses, hence why the Dwarves had nicknamed Bash “The Destroyer.”
“They’ve renovated and improved it a lot recently, and they have easy-to-understand paths now!”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah! I’ve only visited once since then, but it was totally different! It was super astonishing! I was really, really surprised at how clear the residential and downtown areas were separated from each other, when just a couple of years ago it looked like a complete mess! Mister, you should really see the downtown area, it was amazing! There was this spot where they had ten whole bars, all lined up in a straight row! And they were all connected to each other! I saw Dwarves come in at one end, drink their whole way through, and come out the other! And best of all, you don’t even need a ladder to get around anymore! Hooray for urban planning!”
“How exciting. I hope they have some good booze.”
""
Orcs also enjoyed drinking, though not to the extent that Dwarves did.
Although they were a race that was said to live off exclusively of pillaging and theft, one product they made domestically was alcohol.
However, when compared with Dwarven liquor, it wasn’t much better than swamp water.
Bash, as the Orciest of all Orcs, naturally enjoyed drinking.
So much so that he went to the tavern every night to get his fix, despite his fears that the young Orcish men might ask him about his history with women.
The prospect of drinking Dwarven wine was enough to make his heart race.
“I hope you can find a wife too!”
“…Yeah.”
Though Zell was excited at potentially finding Bash’s future wife here in Do Banga’s Pit, the Orc Hero’s similarly sized other partner, Bash Jr., wasn’t of the same mind.
Instead of being stiff, straight, and at the ready, he was sulking, limp, and sad.
“Huh? You don’t look so good, mister. What’s up?”
“Hm? You noticed?”
“Of course, I did! How much time do you think we spent side-by-side? Did you forget who I am? I’m me! And I’m proud to declare that I’m the number one, best in the world at reading mister’s emotions! So, what’s up? I want you to tell me because even though it might not be a big deal, telling someone can make you feel better!”
“Umu…well, actually…”
Just as Bash was about to confess his inner turmoil.
“You!”
“Let go of me! Let go!”
The pair suddenly heard arguing right ahead of them.
As they turned to see what was going on, they saw a bridge at the end of the road, and at its center, a bunch of Dwarves and Elves were glaring at each other.
“Wow, someone’s in a bad mood…”
“It can’t be helped.”
Elves and Dwarves mixed like oil and water.
Their cultural practices and beliefs were in complete and utter opposition: the Dwarves cut down massive swathes of forested land, gathering lumber to fuel their forges, while the Elves used those same forests as their homes, living in harmony with nature.
“Is it? Doesn’t seem like they’re fighting, though.”
Yet, when Bash and Zell approached, they noticed that the situation was quite strange.
Instead of the Elves and Dwarves fighting each other, the Elves were just standing there, confusedly watching as the Dwarves squabbled between themselves.
“Listen to me! It won’t do you any good to try and achieve something by borrowing someone else’s power!”
“What do you want me to do then, huh? Should I walk in there myself and fight with my own sword?! And don’t give me that! You also hired a famous warrior, you hypocrite!”
“That’s not what I said!”
As the pair got even closer, they got a clearer look at the quarrel.
There were two Dwarven women arguing with one another.
One was grabbing the other’s arm, trying to pull her back towards the Dwarven town.
The other lady was defying her, tugging away, and stomping her feet.
“I’m saying you need to hone your blacksmithing skills further!”
“My skills?! My skills are polished enough! I’m confident I can make much better armor than you can!”
“Come back and say that after you’ve made at least a thousand swords!”
""
“Hell no! I don’t need to do any of that! I’ll show you! I’ll prove it to everyone at the Armament Festival!”
“Haaahh… stop your whining… You don’t get it, do you? I’m telling you that it’s useless. It’s impossible for you right now.”
“That’s not true! If my sister doesn’t get in my way, I’ll win this thing hands-down!”
The individual holding the other’s arm was muscular but short, with a doughy nose and a fierce, intimidating expression.
She had a broad face, a wide forehead, a large mouth, and thick hands – a typical Dwarven woman, laughing hysterically as she sat cross-legged on a chair.
“…”
Bash couldn’t help but be disappointed as he observed her.
[Dwarven women…after all…]
The reason the Orc Hero only had hopes for good alcohol in the Dwarf Nation was due to the Dwarven women’s appearance.
They were… not to his liking, to say the least.
It needs to be said that Bash’s standards weren’t high at all. He didn’t need his prospective mate to be a graceful beauty.
But look at that figure.
She looked like a walking, talking, laughing rock.
What sane Orc would lust after a rock?
Of course, so long as Bash could lose his virginity, he didn’t care who it was.
Sure, he didn’t exactly favor the looks of Dwarven women, but they certainly weren’t as bad as the Lizardmen or the Killer Bees.
But then again, Bash was a man.
If possible, he wanted his first time to be with someone he appreciated.
“Ah? Who the hell…an Orc?”
The Dwarven woman noticed the Hero, perhaps feeling his gaze, turning to face him.
She was blatantly scowling, not bothering to hide her distrust.
“I’m a traveler.”
Bash said nonchalantly.
It was difficult to tell a Dwarf’s age, but he wagered a guess that this particular individual wasn’t all that old.
Although she wore a fierce expression, the Orc Hero could barely feel any intimidation coming from her, nor were her mannerisms sharp and refined, like those of a veteran.
He concluded she wasn’t a warrior.
Although looking at her arms, it was evident that she was working out to some extent.
A young lady with a promising future, perhaps.
“You a stray Orc?”
“No, I’m not a stray. My name is Bash. I am traveling in search of something. I want to enter Dwarf Country.”
“Something, eh…?”
Dwarven woman in her natural habitat – Photo taken by an Orcish zoologist, circa 2 Anno Pax
Do Banga’s Pit.
So was called the gargantuan sky-facing crater found at the peak of Mount Lind, which was geographically located straight northwards from Siwanasi Forest.
It was created when Mount Lind, a dormant volcano, was awoken by the shockwaves that spread deep beneath the ground during the duel between the Ogre Warrior Gugugora and the Dwarven Prince Bongo Bongo.
Bongo Bongo was caught up in the eruption, and Gugugora ended up being the victor of their fight.
The Ogres subsequently seized this newly created crater as their territory, building fortifications and shelter, and used it to spearhead their operations.
Back then, it was called the “Lind Fortress.”
The Seven Race Federation used this newly erected fortress as a basecamp in order to launch an invasion deep into Alliance territory, winning many battles as a result.
However, the fortress eventually fell.
The individual that laid his claim to the Ogrish bastion was a stupendously skilled warrior who would later be nicknamed the “War Fiend”.
Leading a small band of Dwarven Warriors, he struck the Ogres straight on, fast, hard, and without any tricks nor cunning.
In the penultimate battle for the fortress, he faced the Ogre General in singular combat and decisively defeated him, occupying the castle.
The Dwarf who managed to capture the Ogrish fortress beating all odds…
…His name was Doradora Do Banga, the “War Fiend”.
More and more Dwarves settled within Lind Fortress, in due course building a city within its natural walls.
Eventually, the crater formally became part of Doradora Do Banga’s domain and was aptly named “Do Banga’s Pit.”
Bash and Zell were currently on the path leading to said Do Banga’s Pit.
“There it is.”
White plumes of thick smoke rose over the horizon, all coming from the peak of Mount Lind.
It seemed as if the entire mountain was a boiling cauldron, steam floating upwards from its wide mouth.
Though one might assume this was due to the settlement being located on a literal volcano, none of this billowing smog was natural.
This town was inhabited by a majority Dwarven population.
Nearly all Dwarves were blacksmith – as a hobby if not by trade, and every family had their own workshop.
The smoke floating up from the mountain was due to their forges and furnaces.
“Ah, I’ve missed this place. I used to get lost all the time in here.”
Dwarven cities were built like anthills.
These short-statured people would settle on (or rather in) hills and mountains, tunneling through the earth to build their homes.
As a result of every inhabitant hollowing out the land at their leisure, their towns usually became sprawling labyrinths and nigh unnavigable natural defensive positions.
Security through obscurity was still security, after all.
Bash had participated in several battles within Do Banga’s Pit, but all he could scrounge out from the depth of his mind were his memories of being lost.
Once, he hadn’t been able to leave for three whole nights and days. He had no way of contacting the outside world, and the allied troops had been scattered by the sporadic battles. The Orc Hero had no choice but to keep fighting on a battlefield where he didn’t even know whether his struggling comrades were still alive.
It was a rather painful memory.
“Huh?! Mister, you got lost in there?”
Zell remembered it differently.
From her point of view, Bash had always been able to return to camp without any difficulty.
“Yeah. Constantly.”
“Whoa, you always managed to come back, and you never looked like you had any trouble, mister! I always thought you knew the whole layout by heart! Like the back of your hand!”
“There’s no way that’d be true.”
Of course, Bash in no capacity knew everything about the Dwarven city’s structure.
Whenever he was lost, hungry, or in otherwise desperate straits, the Orc would break straight through the walls to escape.
No matter where or how deep he was underground, he would eventually reach the surface if he dug diagonally upwards.
Incidentally, this often led to catastrophic structural collapses, hence why the Dwarves had nicknamed Bash “The Destroyer.”
“They’ve renovated and improved it a lot recently, and they have easy-to-understand paths now!”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah! I’ve only visited once since then, but it was totally different! It was super astonishing! I was really, really surprised at how clear the residential and downtown areas were separated from each other, when just a couple of years ago it looked like a complete mess! Mister, you should really see the downtown area, it was amazing! There was this spot where they had ten whole bars, all lined up in a straight row! And they were all connected to each other! I saw Dwarves come in at one end, drink their whole way through, and come out the other! And best of all, you don’t even need a ladder to get around anymore! Hooray for urban planning!”
“How exciting. I hope they have some good booze.”
""
Orcs also enjoyed drinking, though not to the extent that Dwarves did.
Although they were a race that was said to live off exclusively of pillaging and theft, one product they made domestically was alcohol.
However, when compared with Dwarven liquor, it wasn’t much better than swamp water.
Bash, as the Orciest of all Orcs, naturally enjoyed drinking.
So much so that he went to the tavern every night to get his fix, despite his fears that the young Orcish men might ask him about his history with women.
The prospect of drinking Dwarven wine was enough to make his heart race.
“I hope you can find a wife too!”
“…Yeah.”
Though Zell was excited at potentially finding Bash’s future wife here in Do Banga’s Pit, the Orc Hero’s similarly sized other partner, Bash Jr., wasn’t of the same mind.
Instead of being stiff, straight, and at the ready, he was sulking, limp, and sad.
“Huh? You don’t look so good, mister. What’s up?”
“Hm? You noticed?”
“Of course, I did! How much time do you think we spent side-by-side? Did you forget who I am? I’m me! And I’m proud to declare that I’m the number one, best in the world at reading mister’s emotions! So, what’s up? I want you to tell me because even though it might not be a big deal, telling someone can make you feel better!”
“Umu…well, actually…”
Just as Bash was about to confess his inner turmoil.
“You!”
“Let go of me! Let go!”
The pair suddenly heard arguing right ahead of them.
As they turned to see what was going on, they saw a bridge at the end of the road, and at its center, a bunch of Dwarves and Elves were glaring at each other.
“Wow, someone’s in a bad mood…”
“It can’t be helped.”
Elves and Dwarves mixed like oil and water.
Their cultural practices and beliefs were in complete and utter opposition: the Dwarves cut down massive swathes of forested land, gathering lumber to fuel their forges, while the Elves used those same forests as their homes, living in harmony with nature.
“Is it? Doesn’t seem like they’re fighting, though.”
Yet, when Bash and Zell approached, they noticed that the situation was quite strange.
Instead of the Elves and Dwarves fighting each other, the Elves were just standing there, confusedly watching as the Dwarves squabbled between themselves.
“Listen to me! It won’t do you any good to try and achieve something by borrowing someone else’s power!”
“What do you want me to do then, huh? Should I walk in there myself and fight with my own sword?! And don’t give me that! You also hired a famous warrior, you hypocrite!”
“That’s not what I said!”
As the pair got even closer, they got a clearer look at the quarrel.
There were two Dwarven women arguing with one another.
One was grabbing the other’s arm, trying to pull her back towards the Dwarven town.
The other lady was defying her, tugging away, and stomping her feet.
“I’m saying you need to hone your blacksmithing skills further!”
“My skills?! My skills are polished enough! I’m confident I can make much better armor than you can!”
“Come back and say that after you’ve made at least a thousand swords!”
""
“Hell no! I don’t need to do any of that! I’ll show you! I’ll prove it to everyone at the Armament Festival!”
“Haaahh… stop your whining… You don’t get it, do you? I’m telling you that it’s useless. It’s impossible for you right now.”
“That’s not true! If my sister doesn’t get in my way, I’ll win this thing hands-down!”
The individual holding the other’s arm was muscular but short, with a doughy nose and a fierce, intimidating expression.
She had a broad face, a wide forehead, a large mouth, and thick hands – a typical Dwarven woman, laughing hysterically as she sat cross-legged on a chair.
“…”
Bash couldn’t help but be disappointed as he observed her.
[Dwarven women…after all…]
The reason the Orc Hero only had hopes for good alcohol in the Dwarf Nation was due to the Dwarven women’s appearance.
They were… not to his liking, to say the least.
It needs to be said that Bash’s standards weren’t high at all. He didn’t need his prospective mate to be a graceful beauty.
But look at that figure.
She looked like a walking, talking, laughing rock.
What sane Orc would lust after a rock?
Of course, so long as Bash could lose his virginity, he didn’t care who it was.
Sure, he didn’t exactly favor the looks of Dwarven women, but they certainly weren’t as bad as the Lizardmen or the Killer Bees.
But then again, Bash was a man.
If possible, he wanted his first time to be with someone he appreciated.
“Ah? Who the hell…an Orc?”
The Dwarven woman noticed the Hero, perhaps feeling his gaze, turning to face him.
She was blatantly scowling, not bothering to hide her distrust.
“I’m a traveler.”
Bash said nonchalantly.
It was difficult to tell a Dwarf’s age, but he wagered a guess that this particular individual wasn’t all that old.
Although she wore a fierce expression, the Orc Hero could barely feel any intimidation coming from her, nor were her mannerisms sharp and refined, like those of a veteran.
He concluded she wasn’t a warrior.
Although looking at her arms, it was evident that she was working out to some extent.
A young lady with a promising future, perhaps.
“You a stray Orc?”
“No, I’m not a stray. My name is Bash. I am traveling in search of something. I want to enter Dwarf Country.”
“Something, eh…?”
Dwarven woman in her natural habitat – Photo taken by an Orcish zoologist, circa 2 Anno Pax
